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mostlymarvelsstuff · 5 days ago

Text

Fish Tale

Summary: Reader has formed an unusual relationship with a mermaid that saved her life a few months before. This relationship evolves further when a friend of that mermaid watches them have their fun, and even further evolves when a group of sailors find the mermaids

Warnings: fantasy typical violence (fights with fists, knives & swords), light angst (reader gets hurt but lives), Reader has a penis, smut (vaginal penetration, brief handjob, oral, fingering)

Authors note: I'm sorry its so late 😭 hope you guys still enjoy it!

Word count: 8353

WandaNat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist Halloween 2024 Masterlist

Waves gently roll up on the sand as you walk along the shoreline. Up ahead, among the rocks, you can just barely make out the shine of red tresses in the moonlight, and it brings a smile to your face. You make your way further down the beach, heading right for the rock pile. As you get a bit closer the individual turns and smiles at you

“You're late” she scolds, but her voice softens, “I was starting to get worried”

“I”m sorry, my love. The crew insisted I go with them to the pub tonight and wouldn't take no for an answer”

“It’s okay, I’m just glad you're here now” she says, patting the sand beside her, “Sit with me?”

“It would be my pleasure” you reply, already starting to work your boots off

You sit down beside her in the damp sand and let the waves wash over your lower legs. Beside you her tail swishes playfully in the shallow water, and you take a moment to appreciate the way her dark scales shine. It reminds you of a starlit sky, inky black with small specks that shimmer

“The night I rescued you was like this” she comments, bringing you out of your thoughts, “Calm and peaceful after the storm that had hit the day before”

“It was. And I’m still so grateful that you found me. I wouldn’t be here if not for you.”

“I’m glad I found you too, I’ve never known a human like you” she admits, bringing her hand to rest on yours

“You've never known a human at all” you tease

“Personally, no. But I’ve come across enough to know what they think of my kind and I know how they treat us. You aren’t like that though, you're different.”

“Well, I never saw any point in hating or fearing your kind. Even before you rescued me” you admit

“That's why you're special” she says, squeezing your hand affectionately, “You don’t hate what you don’t understand”

“Well, you're special too since you don’t either. I’m sure there's plenty of your kind that would despise me”

“There are.” She nods, “It's why I always have us meet here, they’d never risk being in this cove”

“Which is funny because most of my kind wouldn’t be here either. The average townsperson doesn’t even know this cove is here. And most sailors are too afraid it's haunted by the pirates that were killed and buried here a century ago.”

“Lucky us” she comments, letting her hand move from yours on the sand to cup your cheek

“Lucky us indeed” you agree, leaning closer to her, “I’ve missed you”

“I’ve missed you too, so much” she says, pulling you in for a kiss

You shift in the sand to be closer to her as your tongue slides into her mouth, and her hands grasp the back of your shirt tightly. She lets out a moan as your hand caresses the scales of her tail and pulls you even closer

“I need you, dorogoy(darling)”

A jolt of arousal goes through you at her admission and you can feel your pants beginning to get tighter at your crotch. You shift slightly to alleviate the pressure, which she notices, and she eagerly starts to palm your bulge. You let out a soft moan at the action but quickly move her hand aside to undo your trousers. She watches you strip and chuckles when you stumble, but all humor is forgotten once you're completely bare in front of her.

You straddle her tail and brush her long hair behind her back, exposing her neck gills and breasts to both your eyes and the night air. She shivers slightly, but also bites her lip in anticipation as she watches you eye her like a hungry seal

“You're so beautiful”

She moans as you grab her tits, and her tail shifts beneath you as she attempts to seek more pleasure. You chuckle at her eagerness but relent, letting go of one of her plump mounds to grab your cock and guide it to her slit. There's already a decent amount of her arousal leaking out from it and onto her scales which helps you to slide inside her with ease. You both let out moans at the feeling of your tip spreading her open, and she lets out another as you slip further in

“God, you feel so good” you murmur as you lower yourself further down, making her lean back and rest snuggly in the sand

She wraps her arms around your neck to pull you even closer, “So do you…fuck”

You smirk at that and begin to thrust your hips. Her hold on you tightens as you find a rhythm and you're almost certain you can feel her nails breaking the skin on your shoulder blades, but you hardly care. Your only focus right now is bringing her pleasure while getting yours as well

You brace your hands in the sand beside her as you quicken your pace and start to trail kisses across her chest as she pants, “Yes…yes…right there!”

“Fuck yes” you hum in agreement, feeling yourself beginning to throb as her walls flutter around you, “I’m gonna cum”

You admission makes a deep moan leave her before she's able to respond, “Me too, cum with me, please”

With a few more thrusts you're bringing her over the edge, and you follow swiftly behind. You continue to fuck her through both your orgasms, though your pace is slower now, to prolong the feeling and only stop when she whimpers and pushes on your shoulder gently

You still inside of her and lean down for a kiss. It's full of passion and longing on both ends, and you can practically feel her begging the universe for morning to never come, so the two of you can spend forever like this. Together, intertwined in passion in the still warm sands on the shore. But you unfortunately know that wish will never come to be

She breaks the kiss and looks at you with such care that your heart could burst, “I love you”

“I love you too, Tasha”

She tries to not let her emotions show, but the shine of unshed tears doesn’t go unnoticed, “I wish it could always be like this. Just the two of us, together and not confined to the secrecy of nights”

“I know” you murmur, resting your forehead against hers as you shift an arm closer to her to offer comfort, “I wish that too, so badly”

Her hands cup your face, “Will you hold me?”

You nod and shift away from her, pulling your now softened member free of her as you situate yourself. You both take a moment to appreciate the way your seed spills from her before you move to lay in the sand beside her. Your arms wrap around her waist and you pull her flush against you. She wraps her arms around you as well and nuzzles her face against your neck.

The two of you stay like that, wordlessly embracing each other as your hands softly map out the muscles of her back while hers keep you as close as possible until you both fall into a peaceful sleep

You're awoken hours later by the sound of gulls nearby and when you open your eyes you can just barely see the sun beginning to rise over the horizon. Your gaze then falls on the still sleeping mermaid in your hold and you can’t help but smile. She's so beautiful and looks so at peace like this. You wish you could hold her like this whenever either of you saw fit or wanted it, not just as she slept. But longing for the impossible will do you no good, so instead you shuffle closer and press a gentle kiss to her neck just above her gills.

The corners of her mouth twitch ever so slightly, “Good morning”

“Good morning, my love” you reply, letting your fingers run through her hair

“Do we still have some time together?”

You glance back to the sunrise, “A bit”

“Good” she hums, wrapping her tail around your legs, “Don’t want to say goodbye yet”

“I never want to” you admit

She smiles at you sadly, “Neither do I”

You lean forward and connect your lips to hers, momentarily taking both your minds off your impending departure as you both pour your love for the other out into the kiss. After a few minutes of making out you reluctantly pull away, but she pulls you back in for more

Finally you manage to break the kiss, “Tasha, I have to go”

“Stay?” she asks, looking at you with such longing that your chest aches, “Just a bit longer?”

“You know I wish I could” you reply, cupping her face and brushing away a stray tear, “But I can’t. I’m sorry my love”

Though disappointed she understands, “When will I see you again?”

“Two days from now” you answer as you sit up. You grab your discarded clothes and shake the sand out before beginning to put your shirt back on, “It's not a long wait, but I will still miss you”

“I’ll miss you too”

You lean back down for another kiss before you stand and start putting your undergarments and pants on. As you do so she slides down the shoreline a bit and gets her tail in the water. She lets the cool water wash away all signs of your night together as she uses her hands to knock as much sand from her hair as possible. Her gaze falls back on you once your boots are back on and you give her your best smile

“Go ahead home, my love. I don’t want to leave until I’m sure your safe”

She smiles at you though it doesn't reach her eyes and she slides further into the water. Once she's deep enough for your liking she turns back around, “Be careful moya lyubov'(my love), I’ll see you soon”

“I will be, and I’ll see you soon”

You watch her reluctantly go under the water and you're able to track her shallow movements for a bit until she goes out past where any man would dare swim. It's only then that you turn and start to head back up the beach. You enter the treeline and follow your slightly worn path back to the main road, which you then follow to town. Thankfully it was early enough that most folk would still be asleep, and those that weren’t were either too hungover to care about your disheveled appearance or were fellow sailors themselves and knew better than to ask where one of their own found themselves after a night of drinks.

Eventually you make it back to your small house and are greeted outside by the ornery stray that you let crash at your place. You chuckle at his scraggly meow and reach down to pet him. He purrs and flops down in front of you

“Silly cat. Come on, it's breakfast time”

He hops up and scurries to your front door where he yowls and scratches at the wood. He bolts inside as soon as you open the door and runs right to your small table. He jumps up on it and yowls some more, clearly impatient with you. You chuckle and toss him a fish you'd grabbed on your way through town. He happily licks and munches on it as you head back outside to collect some water from your well. Once back inside you head to your room with the small bin of water and strip yourself.

You use a sponge and the basin of water to clean yourself up and get rid of all the remaining sand and grime from your body. After you deem yourself clean enough you get changed and head back into the other room. All that's left on your table are the bones of the fish and the cat now sits in your windowsill all stretched out

“I’ll see you later boy.” you tell him, scratching his chin before heading out the door and back to the docks

Finally it's two days later and Natasha can hardly contain her excitement. She thought she was being discreet enough, but apparently she hadn’t been because her best friend, fellow mermaid Wanda, is inquiring about her mood

“What's got you so happy today?”

“Am I not normally happy?” Nat deflects, but it doesn’t deter her friends curiosity

Wanda rolls her eyes, “You are, but tonight seems different. It's like you're anticipating something”

Nat just shrugs, “Can’t I just be in a good mood?”

“You can, I’m sorry” Wanda says, deciding it's best to drop the matter. Though she definitely knows her best friend is up to something.

Hours later this is confirmed when she notices the redhead slip away from their pod. She knows she should give her friend privacy, but she also knows Nat is hiding something and she's far too curious to just let that slide. She discreetly follows behind at a distance, making sure she's far enough behind to not be spotted but also close enough that she wouldn’t lose the redhead.

Eventually they’re in shallow water by the shoreline, and when Nat slides herself up on the beach Wanda takes cover behind some rocks nearby. She hopes that with only her head above the water she will blend in with them in the cover of darkness. She watches as a human appears and starts to make their way down the beach towards her friend. Her heart hammers in her chest as panic fills her, she can see that Nat also notices the human so why doesn’t she hide? Why does she sit there like an open target?

Natasha can hardly contain herself when she finally sees you approaching her, if she had legs she knows she’d be running to you. Instead she sits and waits with a big smile on her face as you hurriedly advance. As soon as you're within arms reach she holds out her arms to you and you let out a chuckle. You eagerly oblige however and quickly kneel in the sand to engulf her in your embrace

“Missed you” she mumbles against your neck as she practically melts into your hold

You card your fingers through her still damp locks, “Missed you too. I always do”

She pulls back a bit in order to give you a kiss, which you happily reciprocate before sitting down fully in the sand. Nat doesn’t move far though and keeps her arms firmly around you, but you don’t mind. You're just as happy to hold her as she is

As the two of you embrace, Wanda nearly has a meltdown. What in the world was Natasha doing sneaking off to meet a human? What in the world was she doing kissing a human? This wasn't just out of character for the older mermaid but was quite dangerous as well. It just didn’t make sense. There were plenty of suitable members of their pod and plenty in it that liked the redhead, so she couldn't fathom why she’d chose to be with a disgusting and terrible creature like humans.

She knows this is a private moment between her best friend and her apparent lover, but knowing what humans are capable of, knowing what they’ve taken from her, she just can’t find it in herself to leave. She probably wouldn’t be much help if something happened, mind you, but she’d rather be here just in case rather than leave Natasha at the mercy of a potential threat.

Back on shore you continue to hold Natasha, whose hands travel down to your own to toy with your fingers. However as she does so her eyes follow and she notices an injury to your forearm. Her brows furrow in concern as one of her palms soothes your inflamed flesh

“What happened?”

“Rope burn” you answer, “A rigging line near me snapped. Thankfully this was all that happened”

She pretends to understand fully, but she gets the gist, “You’re okay then?”

“Yeah, I'll be healed up in no time”

She continues to gently caress your skin there for a bit, trying to distract herself from the nagging thoughts at the back of her head about how she wouldn’t know if you were badly hurt until you missed showing up for a nighttime rendezvous. You can sense a bit of her inner turmoil and pull her closer, hoping that the current closeness to you will drown out the negativity

The two of you spend the next couple hours in various cuddled positions while talking about everything and nothing. You were both truly content to just get this time together, it wasn’t rare per say, but it was always hard for both of you to be without each other throughout the day. And even harder to spend a few days and nights apart from each other entirely. Normally that meant Nat and you would spend the night together on the beach, but she knew her best friend had been suspicious today and didn’t want to risk it

“I should go” she says, quickly continuing once she notices your hurt and confused expression, “Wanda caught on thay I was excited for something today, I just don’t want to risk her being nosey and waking early or perhaps not even be sleeping yet”

You nod in understanding, “Okay. I’ll see you here tomorrow, right?”

“Of course” she assures, leaning in for a kiss

After you break apart you reluctantly let her go and watch her slide into the water, “I love you”

“I love you too” she replies with a sad smile before submerging

As you stood and walked back up the beach you had no idea that a confrontation was occurring just below the waves. As soon as Nat had started to depart Wanda had dove under and waited, this was a conversation that definitely could’t occur back at their pod.

“Wanda, what-”

“Don’t” she interrupts, “Natasha, what the hell are you thinking?! A human?! Really?!”

“She's different” she stresses

But Wanda isn’t having it, “She's a human!”

“She isn’t afraid of us, she doesn’t find us disgusting, she isn’t cruel or violent” she explains, “She is nothing but kind, generous and loving”

Wanda still looks displeased and crosses her arms, “She's still a human. What would happen if the rest of the pod found out, or your parents?”

Natashas eyes widened, “You can’t tell them, please Wanda.”

“I’m just trying to keep you safe” she stresses

“I am safe!” Nat assures, “Y/n would never hurt me, not ever. She loves me, just as I love her”

“And what about her friends or just her townspeople, do they share that sentiment?”

“You know they don’t” she scoffs

“Then you aren’t safe”

“Wanda, please” she begs, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and I’ve never been treated the way she treats me. Can’t you just be happy for me and let me have this? Please?”

Wanda bites her tongue, keeping the snide comment about not being able to fully be with this human anyway so why did it matter to herself, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I know, and I love how fiercely protective you are, but I promise you, Y/n is different. And she would do anything to keep me safe” The younger mermaid huffs, clearly not convinced, “I’m seeing her again tomorrow, come with me”

“What?”

“Come with me, come meet her” Nat explains, “You’ll see what she's really like and maybe you’ll understand. But even if you still don’t you can at least be at ease knowing I’m in good hands with her”

“I don’t know Nat…” she sighs

“Please, just do this. And if you still have bad feelings about it after meeting her then….then you can tell my parents.”

“You really mean that?” she questions, finding hard to even entertain the idea of enjoying a humans company

“I do” she confirms

“Okay. I’ll come with you tomorrow”

Nat lets out a sigh of relief, “Thank you”

“Mhm, now come on. Let's get back before someone notices our absence and we have to explain”

The next night comes quicker than Natasha had anticipated, probably due to how nervous she is. She wants to believe that Wanda will be able to get over her deep hatred for the entire human race once she gets to know you and maybe eventually she can even become friendly with you. But she's aware of just how much the other woman has lost at the hands of humans and would understand if that never happened. Really she just needs Wanda to like you, and considering how easily she liked you, she's hopeful, but still nervous.

“Are you ready to have your midnight rendezvous with your lover?”

Nat tries to hide the fact that her best friends teasing has made her blush, “Quiet, someone might hear you”

Despite her disapproval Wanda chuckles, “Come on, lets go”

The two swim in a comfortable silence until they near the shoreline, “Let me go up first and explain whats going on?”

Wanda nods, “Sure, I wouldn’t want to scare your human away.”

Nat glares at her before she swims up and slides onto the beach. She only has to wait a few minutes before you arrive. You eagerly greet her like you normally do, with a hug and a kiss, which she eagerly indulges you in. But then you notice her looking at you rather seriously

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing wrong, at least, I hope so” she starts out, “My friend Wanda- ”

“Your best friend”

Nat smiles and feels her heart flutter, just the fact that you always remembered the small things about her made her feel so cared for, “Yes, well, she followed me here last night. She saw us together.”

Your face pales, “I image she isn’t happy”

“She isn’t happy about it, but she's willing to meet you. To try and understand us.” she explains, “She's waiting for me to grab her, I just wanted you to know”

“Okay, yeah. Go ahead”

She quickly slides back into the water and shortly emerges with a brunette mermaid in tow. She looks a bit grumpy but she's just as beautiful. You smile warmly at her in the hopes to ease the tension between you both. She slides up on the beach beside Natasha.

“Hi Wanda, it's nice to meet you, Natashas talked a lot about you.” you greet, “I’m Y/n”

Wanda nods in your direction, “I unfortunately can’t say the same”

Nat blushes a bit in embarrassment, “I just knew how you’d react”

Is quiet for a moment before Wanda regards you, “How did you two meet?”

“She saved my life” you admit, “I was out on my old fishing vessel and there was a sudden storm, the ship took major damage and I fell overboard. I was adrift at sea on some debris for a few hours. Once the storm passed she found me. She thought I was dead at first until she got closer, and she was surprised by my calm reaction to her. We spent some time just staring at each other and talking before she took me to shore”

Wanda gives her friend a side glance, “That's all it took?”

She shrugs, “She didn’t respond to me like most humans do and was kind. I wasn’t just going to leave her out there. The elements would have killed her quickly, or the sharks would have. That felt cruel”

Wanda realizes she differs from Natasha greatly here, because she would have just left you there to die. In her eyes, after losing both parents and her brother to their cruel ways, all humans deserve to die. It didn’t matter if they were in trouble or if they seemed nice. A human was a human.

“So you two just started seeing each other after that?”

“Kinda” Nat says, “We were both pretty enamored with each other and agreed to start meeting up at this beach on occasion.”

“Eventually on occasion became every free moment we both had, and we realized we felt something for each other.” you explain

“Something we couldn’t deny” Nat continues

Wanda observes the way you both look at each other, and she recognizes the love that's so obviously there. She used to see it all the time in her parents, and if she was finally being honest with herself it's also the same way she herself looked at Natasha

“Promise me that you’ll take care of her? That you won’t hurt her?” Wanda asks, staring at you intently

“I promise. Natasha means the world to me, I could never harm her”

Nat grabs ahold of your hand and the brunette nods, “You better mean that, or else”

You chuckle slightly and look at Nat, “You were right, she did give me the talk”

The three of you spend the rest of the night talking, and you and Wanda get to know each other a bit. She isn’t incredibly open about anything, but she's far more talkative than Natasha had anticipated her to be. She's happy about that though, and she thinks you’ll be good for Wanda. Carrying around so much hate and bitterness for your entire species was slowly driving her down a dark path, and truthfully she was worried at times that she’d lose the brunette to it. But this was a good start in the opposite direction.

After a few more hours pass they decide they should head back, and you bid them both farewell. Your goodbye with Nat was of course longer and more intimate, which Wanda teased you both about before they slipped into the sea and headed home.

It didn’t take long after that for a new routine to occur. Now instead of only Natasha visiting you at night, Wanda did too. Not every time, as she still wanted to give you and Nat your time together as a couple, but she did occasionally tag along. It was nice, for both you and her. It gave you a mermaid other than that to learn things about and from, and it made you feel more at ease knowing Nat had a good friend. And it helped Wanda see that there is some good out there in humans. It might not be common but it did exist, and knowing you better also helped her trust you with her best friend's care.

And Natasha was more than happy to see the two of you getting along. Other than her family, you and Wanda were the most important people in her life so for you to be becoming friends made her incredibly happy. She had always hoped the two of you would be able to get close, she just hadn't known how it would come to be. Thankfully, Wanda had taken care of that part by following her curiosity. Something both you and Nat still teased her for.

But one night, to everyone's surprise, about three months after you and Wanda had solidified your friendship another change happened. It started out as any normal night with Natsha would. She came alone this time, or so she thought, and waited for you on the beach as she usually would. You greeted her like usual, holding her close and giving her a few kisses. But it was clear rather quickly that she wanted and needed more than that tonight. She eagerly pulled you closer, kissed you deeper and palmed your bulge.

You groaned against her lips and pressed yourself further into her touch, “Tasha”

“I’m right here, detka(baby)” she assures in a hushed tone as she continues her movements.

After a few more strokes she undoes your pants and slips your now hardened member free. You let out a subconscious sigh of relief as you're freed from the confines of your pants, and when her hand wraps around you again you throb. She smirks at you and your expression of enjoyment before she lowers herself. She wraps her lips around your tip and teases it with her tongue

“Oh god, Tasha” you moan as you bring your hand up to tangle in her still damp hair

She hums around you and takes you deeper into her mouth, eliciting sounds of pleasure from you as she begins to bob her head. Between her tongues movements, the feeling of her mouth around you, and the sounds she makes as she chokes on your cock, you know you won’t last terribly long

What both of you failed to realize however was that at some point Wanda had changed her mind about joining Natasha on the beach tonight. When the redhead had first asked about it she had declined but she was bored tonight and decided no harm could come from heading up a bit late. She hadn’t anticipated that the two of you would be involved in such an act, let alone right out in the open

She knows she shouldn’t be watching, this was a very personal and intimate act, but she finds herself unable to look away. She’d be lying if she claimed to have never had any more than friendly feelings for her best friend, and as she got to know you she found those same feelings emerging. She never intended to say anything as she valued her friendships with both of you too much to risk ruining them in any way. But maybe there was no harm in merely watching. At least that's what she told herself

Back on the beach you're getting close to release, and Natasha knows it based on the way you throb in her mouth. She doubles down on her efforts and with a few more bobs of her head she finds herself swallowing your load. She releases you with a soft pop and looks up to find you trying to catch your breath. But when you open your eyes, your shocked to see Wanda out in the water. Nat feels the way you stiffen and immediately turns to see whats wrong and she's shocked to see Wanda as well.

But her eyes briefly meet yours and she smirks as she looks back out to the brunette, “Well, are you just going to wade there all night?”

Wanda's cheeks heat up as she realizes she's been caught, and she decides to come forward. She joins you both on the beach, “I’m sorry, I hadn’t meant to intrude”

“If you wanted to see, or to join, all you had to do was ask Wans” the redhead admits

Wanda is taken back by this, and searches her best friend's face for any sign of teasing or insincerity, but she finds none. She looks at you then and sees nothing but a soft and welcoming expression

“You think Y/n and I havent noticed how close you’ve been getting with us? You think we haven’t been feeling and wanting some of the same things?”

Wanda just stares, too shocked by the admittance to say anything, so you speak up, “We have noticed Wanda, and we want you too”

“You do?”

Nat smiles and cups her face, “We do”

And that's how Wanda finds herself on her back in the sand with Nat groping at her tits and sucking marks against her neck while your fingers stretch her open. She whimpers as you curl them just right and her tail thrashes lightly in an adorable manner

“You're doing so good for us” you coo as you continue to pump your fingers, causing her walls to clench down around you

She moans again at Nat smirks against her collarbone, “Thats it Wans, just like that. Just let go”

She moans your names as she comes undone, clutching at the redhead while wrapping her tail around you to keep you both close as you continue to help her through her orgasm. Eventually you pull your fingers free and offer them to Nat, whole eagerly cleans them

You look down at Wanda with a smirk, “We’re going to have so much fun with you, sweetheart”

A few months have gone by since then, and Wanda has easily fit into your dynamic. You're a bit more at ease now too, knowing that in your absences they at least have each other. But god do you miss them terribly when away. Thankfully your crew would be taking some much needed time off, and you intended to spend every night of that time on the beach with the two of them. You knew they were as excited as you were.

Your just on your way to the market to procure supper for the night when one of your crewmates, the youngest of them actually runs up to you as if his pants were ablaze

“Y/n! Come on, you gotta come with me!” he shouts as he starts to pull you away from the hustle and bustle of the market. You have no choice but to follow

“What's all the fuss about Charlie?” you ask as the younger man hurries you along

“Phil and the guys caught something, and you have to see it to believe it!”

Your stomach twists as he suddenly turns onto the rather hidden path that you usually take to the cove. But you try to quench your anxieties. You normally met them at night afterall and it was still early morning, surely they wouldn’t be here yet. Phil probably nabbed a big hammerhead, you know they frequented the old wreck nearby.

“Charlie! Down here!” you hear Stu call out as you both break through the tree line and step onto the beach.

He's pointing at a net that Erik is attempting to drag further out of the water. A task that is much harder than it should be due to the intense flopping of the nets contents. Charlie quickly bolts down the beach to help him and as you get closer you can finally make out what's thrashing around in the green and brown netting. And that's when your heart drops into your stomach. It's just as you feared, the occupants of the net are indeed your two beloved mermaids, and they're beyond terrified. Natasha does a good job at seeming stoic, but you've learned to read her well. And Wanda doesn’t even try to hide it as she clutches onto the redhead. But after everything humans have done to her family, you don't’ blame her

“Kogda ya osvobozhus', ya pererezhu tebe vse glotki!(when I am free, I will cut all your throats!)” she snears

“Keep your spells to yourself sea witch, or I’ll carve out your tongue right here!” Phil threatens as he kicks her red tail. That's when he notices your arrival, “Ah, Y/n!”

“Phil.” you curtly greet, trying not to let any venom from the rage you currently feel slip into your words as you feel two pairs of green eyes land on you.

“Look at what I managed to capture!” he says all excited, “Can you believe it!”

“Such rare creatures” Erik says, “To find two of them, we are lucky!”

“Yeah, and all of it's bad. They're such disgusting things” Stu adds, and you have to fight back the urge to correct him with your fist

“They're monsters. Killers” Charlie adds, “One of these things took my father to the grave, if given the chance, they'd take us to our graves too.”

“Dorogoy(darling), please” Natasha calls out, breaking your heart

You know it seems like you're not going to do anything to help them, as all you've done is stand and stare, but in reality you've been planning how to take out all four men on your own since you laid eyes on her and Wanda.

“It can speak like we do” Erik states in awe

Stu looks absolutely mortified, “I say we gut them right here. Bring only their corpses back to town. They don’t need to be alive to be seen as more than fables.”

“Y/n! Please!” Wanda begs, tears streaming down her face

That's when the chaos momentarily calms, and all men turn to you. You're already braced to fight, as there's no way in hell you’d let them slaughter the women you loved.

“It knows your name” Phil states as he eyes you suspiciously

“She. She knows my name” you correct, “Actually they both do, and I know theirs”

Now Stu is looking at you too, “What?”

Instead of answering you throw a punch at Erik. He hadn’t seen it coming and so it takes him off balance and he falls to his hands and knees in the sand and Charlie scrambles away from your other side

“What the fuck are you doing!?” Phil shouts as he reaches down to help Erik up

“I’m not going to let you kill them”

“Why the fuck not?!” Stu questions as he pulls out his knife and points it towards the net, “These things aren’t natural!”

You pull your knife out too, “I swear if you hurt either of them, I’ll gut you like you threatened to do to them”

Phil opens his mouth, likely in an attempt to calm everyone down and figure out just what is going on in your head, but Erik doesn’t give him a chance. As soon as he's on his feet again he's charging at you. You dodge his punch and land one of your own to his gut, avoiding using the hand that held the blade. He lets out an oomph as he stumbles away from you and Charlie rushes you next. He's a spry boy and is able to get a few hits in before you get your own in, but he doesn’t fall or stumble like Erik had. Instead he pulls his own knife from his boot

“I don’t want to hurt you” you stress, “I’m just protecting them”

“Yeah? And who protected my father? They deserve whatever fate happens upon them!”

It's clear he's lost to his rage and you nod solemnly, “Then so do you”

Erik tries to intervene by lunging at you, but you quickly sidestep and get him in a chokehold with your free arm while your other points your knife at Charlie. As you grapple with the two of them, Phil and Stu grab the net and start to pull the women further away from you and towards the treeline. They're putting up too much of a fight however and so the men don’t get far. This pisses them off and they decide to separate the two. You're too busy to notice until Nat lets out a yell

“Get your hands off her!”

You glance over to see Stu grabing a fistfull of Wandas hair as he attempts to pull her away from the older mermaid. You can see that Nats held back from doing anything to stop it by Phil holding his cutlass up to her sternum. Rage fills you and you no longer care about harming an unarmed man. You thrust your blade into Eriks chest and he lets out a strangled gasp. You pull the blade free and shove him aside, reading yourself for Charlie. The young boy's gaze falls upon his older friend who now gasps for air and clutches at his white shirt that quickly spreads with blood as he mindlessly stumbles away from you.

Charlie wipes a few of his tears as he looks back at you with a sneer, “I’ll kill you for that”

“You’ll try”

He runs at you with his knife raised, unintentionally leaving himself open for you. Your free hand grabs his wrist to stop his blade as yours punctures his sternum. His eyes widen and his chin quivers as a drop of blood drips down his chin

“I’m sorry kid. You’ll be with your father soon.” You doubt the words are any comfort to him, but it makes you feel a bit better as you wrench your knife free of his body

You quickly turn on your heel to see that Stu has fully removed Wanda from the net and still has her by the hair. His back is to you though, and Phil is struggling to wrap the net back around Natasha, and so you have an advantage.

You go running towards them and tackle the man. His knife slips from his hand as does your knife from yours, and the three of you tumble down to the sand. He lets go of the younger mermaids hair to twist himself around and the two of you struggle for control of the other

“Wanda, go!” you shout as you shove the man's face into the sand, “Get to the water!”

“But Natasha!” she stresses, turning to look at the other woman only to see the other man now coming towards her

“I’ll get her!” you promise

“Go!” Nat adds, “Now!”

Wanda listens and turns over on her belly and starts to slide herself towards the water. Just as she gets out of reach Stu elbows you in the face, it's hard enough that you can feel blood start to drip as your face meets the sand. Stu grunts as his hands wrap around your throat

“I swear if you hurt that boy, I’ll-”

His threat is cut out as your vision starts to go black and your ears start to ring. But you're still with it enough to see Phil go to move past you both, heading to grab Wanda. You can’t let that happen so you kick out with your legs. Thankfully one of them hits Phil in his knee and he stumbles in the opposite direction. It's enough of a distraction that Stus' grip on you lightens and you use that to your advantage.

You feel around in the sand until you find a nice sizable rock and you swing your arm powerfully. The rock hit Stu hard and he falls over in a heap. You wiggle free from under him just in time to see Wanda slip into the water, and you let out a sigh of relief. Phils gaze goes to you then to Stu, whose blood is soaking into the sand beneath his head

“What have you done?”

“What I had to” you answer

“You killed your own crewmates!” he shouts, grabbing his cutlass

You stand and grab yours “I’d do it again if it meant keeping them safe”

As your sword clashes with his Natasha looks out to the water. She can’t help but smile when she sees how far out Wanda is, but when she hears the sound of your sword meeting his, her heart sinks. You've done everything you can to keep her and Wanda safe, you've killed your own friends for them. But your weakened after so much, and she's worried you may yet get injured

Despite her worry she can't just sit here, so she starts to wiggle some more, hoping that the net will have mercy and release her. But then she sees it, your knife glinting in the sand within reach. She shimmies over and reaches out, carefully grabbing the blade and pulling it towards her until the handle is close enough. She wastes no time and starts slicing away at the nets that hold her

You've managed to slice Phils leg but he's also managed to slice your arm. The two of you had always been the best with the sword, hence why you were the only on the fishing vessels crew that carried them, but this worked against you now.

“I’m going to take great pleasure in killing you in front of them”

You barely manage to parry his blade in time and you stumble backwards a bit. This seems to amuse him and thinking he has the upper hand he begins to circle you. You mirror his movements and work on catching your breath as he tries to intimidate you. He lunges, but it's more show than it is fight and you manage to slice his hand. He shouts in pain as he drops his sword and he looks at you with pure dred as you lunge.

“Don’t-” but your blade goes right through his heart, stopping whatever he might say

You let it stay lodged there and move to help Nat, who you can see has worked herself partially free, “You okay?”

Relief washes over her features, “Yes, are you?”

“I’ll be fine, small wounds that will heal” you tell her, kneeling down to pull her tail free from the net, “There we go.”

But just then Nat sees movement behind you. She doesn’t have time to warn you however and suddenly there's a pain in your side, “Y/n!”

“I told you I’d kill you if you hurt that boy” You can feel the blood drip from Stus head and onto you as he twists his blade into your ribs

“Ahgh!” you gasp as the pain sets in and you can feel the air leaving your lungs as he pulls the knife free

You fall and try to scramble away from him, and just as he goes to grab you again he lets out a scream. You look up to see your knife, which Nat had still been holding, is now lodged in his chest. You smile, damn proud of her, but just as his body hits the sand, yours does too

“No!” she shouts, sliding over to your side. She places a hand under your head as the other puts pressure on the wound, “Dorogoy(darling)?”

“Nice throw” you grunt as her face comes into view. You hate that you're the cause of the tears in her beautiful eyes, “Don’t cry”

“This is my fault” she whimpers, “This is all my fault. If I had stayed away like Wanda said we should”

“Hey, hey, don’t do that” you tell her, “Don’t blame yourself”

You're now aware of another presence on your other side and glance over to see Wanda. The brunette looks just as upset as the redhead that's holding you and your heart crumbles further

“Milaya(sweetheart), you saved us”

You relax into her hand as she cups your cheek, “Id do anything for the two of you”

A cough tears its way through you then, and to their horror blood comes up and drips from the corner of your mouth

“No, no please” Nat begs, pressing harder on your side

You let out a hiss in pain, “It's okay…”

“No! No it isn't!” Nat stresses, “I’m not ready to let you go”

“I’m not either” Wanda adds

Nat quickly looks to the brunette, “Can you heal her?”

“I- I don’t know. Agatha only just taught me healing magic” she explains

“You've got to try, otherwise…”

Wanda nods, “I’ll try my best”

She puts her hand over Nats on your wound and lets the redhead pull away so that she is the one now putting pressure on you, and she does her best to focus on closing up the stab. But to her frustration nothing happens. She keeps her hand in place however and keeps trying, willing everything in her to just focus and heal you but still nothing happens

A wave of anger overtakes her and she can’t help but lash out at the universe, “Enough has been taken from me, I will not lose her! She belongs with us!”

A sudden rush of red energy surges out of her and into you, taking all three of you by surprise. Nat had seen Wanda's magic before but it had been small red sparks or a small flame like wave, nothing as large as this. And it certainly never made the brunette lean over in apparent exhaustion like she is now currently doing

“You okay?” Natasha asks, reaching out to steady her. She nods in confirmation

Natasha's attention moves back to you then, and for a moment she fears the worst. Though your wound appears to be closed now your eyes are now too and you lay completely motionless, it doesn’t even look like you're breathing. She feels her own breath catch in her throat as she lays a hand on your chest

“Y/n?” she calls out, barely above a whisper as she gently shakes you

Your eyes snap open and you take a deep breath, “Holy shit”

You try to sit up and the redhead moves to help you. Its then that she notices a change in you, something new and very familiar to her but foreign to you is now along your neck

“It worked?” Wanda asked in disbelief

“It more than worked” Nat replies, a few tears building in her eyes, “Look”

Wanda looks to where Nat is pointing to see that you now have a pair of gills, just like theirs. Somehow in her anger fueled magical outburst she had not only made sure to keep you alive but had also made you more like them

“What's wrong?”

They both shake their heads but its only Wanda that finds her words, “You can come home with us”

“What?” you ask again, even more confused now, “What do you mean?”

Nat grabs one of your hands and brings it to your neck and your eyes widen in realization, “See, we don’t have to be apart anymore. You can come home with us”

“That sounds perfect” you admit, smiling at both women softly

“You aren’t mad then?” Wanda asks, worried you’d be upset that she made such a massive change

You shake your head, “Of course I’m not. This is great, if we can actually be together now that is. I’m not sure how accepting your kind will be of my legs”

Both women smile at you and Nat cups your face, “You’ll be a little different than everyone else, but you’ll be with us. That's all I care about. If anyone makes a fuss about your differences, Wanda and I will deal with them”

“Damn right we will”

You laugh, “Let's go home then”

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @when-wolves-howl @danveration @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories@imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastorm @zoomdeathknight @aeroae @sashawalker2

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #wandanat x y/n #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wanda x natasha #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel #fanfic

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deadhands69 · 2 months ago

Text

Tomura Shigaraki helps after you get hit with a sex quirk

MDNI

Shigaraki x gn/afab reader

This is pt 2, here's pt 1

Warnings/content/etc: unestablished relationship, swearing, implied virgin Shiggy (but not a total loser in this srry), fingering, brief oral (male receiving), missionary.

Before you know it, you’re back at the league headquarters. Shigaraki continues to keep you semi-upright, getting you into the building. Passing through the bar, Kirogiri asks if you need medical assistance. Shigaraki immediately yells “No Giri, it’s fine. I’ve got it” while you try not to laugh. With continued help, you make your way through the hall and into his bedroom. He leads you to his bed and you do your best to ignore him kicking a bag of trash under the desk.

He sits on the bed beside you, reaching under his pillow. Pulling out drawing gloves, he slides his pinkies into each of them before securing the wrists.

“Not the sexiest but it’s so if I accidentally touch you I don’t-”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.” you reply smiling, genuinely glad for his concern.

He turns to you, holding his hands awkwardly in front of him “okay um..” He glances around.

“So how do you…” he trailed off.

“Have sex?” “Ughh. I know what sex is y/n, I’m not an idiot.” He shifts uncomfortably before itching the skin under his jaw.

As you expected: he doesn’t seem to have any experience in this. You can’t really judge him for it, it’s not like you’re getting laid nonstop yourself. Plus, he’s willing to help when no one else is, he’s attractive, and his cluelessness is kind of endearing. On the other hand, his insecurities can make him irritable but maybe it won’t be too bad.

“No, how do you want to start? I have an idea of what people would usually do but I also know this is just supposed to be a means to an end.” He stares down at his hands, chewing the skin of his bottom lip.

Was this just a means to an end for him? You initially thought he was just being nice and didn’t care about sex. But he seems to somewhat care and under his usual confidence he looks a little sad about (what you would assume to be) his first time being with someone using him to avoid slipping into insanity. You’d probably find that a little depressing too. What is he looking for in this? Realizing that you’ve been staring at him too long, you decide to just ask.

“So, my brain is foggy. But if I’m understanding this: you’re asking about comfort levels? What are you comfortable with?”

“You can do anything to me.” he responds shamelessly and a little too fast.

“Okay. Noted.” Wanting to not lose time, you move yourself closer to him.

Opting to place a hand on his shoulder, making some connection between the two of you. This works for you: verbal conversation becoming more difficult to keep track of as your body pulls you towards him. The way he is looking at you while biting his bottom lip makes it nearly impossible to think of anything else. On top of that, you are in Tomura Shigaraki’s bed.

You are really in Tomura Shigaraki’s bed.

Holy shit.

He doesn’t seem to hate the small touch between you so you move even closer. Bringing your left hand up to his cheek, you lightly brush a few clumps of hair from his face.

You lean-in, gravitating towards his mouth.

It’s terrifying, even if he said he’s okay with what you want to do, you’ve still never seen him indicate much interest in physical touch prior to this.

Moving closer.

You hope he actually meant it.

A little closer.

You also hope ‘anything’ includes kissing.

Pressing tentatively, your lips connect with his. You feel him stiffen slightly before rubbing his lips into yours. The soft ridges of his scars lightly dancing over your skin. Slowly, you continue to kiss him - struggling to hold back but afraid to move too fast. He pulls back.

“Uhm” glancing down “is it okay if I touch you with my hands?”

He looks into your eyes and you wonder if he’s touched anyone with his hands (in this way, at least. You’ve definitely seen him touch people with his hands.)

“Yeah”

“..you’re sure?” he double checks looking confused at your first answer.

“I know what I said yes to” you smile and move your own hand into his.

“Okay, cool” he smiles and turns fully towards you. When was the last time you saw him smile? Your heartbeat quickens, deepening the ache in your gut making you groan.

“Hey, uhm” awkward start but you continue “this pace is nice and all but I..”

His eyes widen in understanding. “Oh. Yeah, got it!” In a surge of confidence you’re used to seeing when he takes charge of a mission, he presses you back onto his bed. Climbing on top of you, he brings his lips back to yours - fumbling slightly.

Where was that a minute ago?

The kiss deepens. Parting your lips, you’re met with a mouthful of his tongue. Inexperienced, but his confidence is still hot. You guide him, sliding your tongue gracefully around his.

Being close to him isn't so bad. Like usual, he's confident yet hesitant. Not overly praising but at least not rude to you. Despite his messy style, he smells okay too. Kind of like wet leaves in fall.

Reaching your hands down, you grab the bottom of his hoodie and pull it off, taking his shirt with it. He motions to do the same. You lean forward, allowing him to slide yours over your head. Your shirt gets stuck so you help and pull it the rest of the way off your arms. Happy you didn’t wear a bra, that’s something he can figure out another day.

He gasps slightly. Oh yeah, boobs.

Pausing, he looks up “and you’re sure it’s okay if I touch you everywhere?”

“Definitely, I want to feel your hands on me.”

It’s clear by now, his confidence doesn’t extend to his hands in this situation. Reaching for his gloved fingers, you place yours over his and pull them down to your hips. The feeling of his skin on yours sends light tingles through your body, quickening your breathing. Adding more pressure, you drag his hands up your stomach, over your ribs, and onto your chest. You slide your hands up his arms, feeling every scar along the way. He takes a moment to adjust before grabbing handfuls, grazing your nipple making you moan and lean into his touch.

Seeing him shirtless in front of you, he’s a lot more ripped than you thought he’d be. His skin looks soft with scratches and scars here and there adding texture. You wish he’d lean forward more, you really need to touch him.

He haphazardly rolls your nipples between his fingers, lightly before pinching harder. He brings his head down to rest on your chest briefly before replacing his left hand with his mouth. First licking, then alternating between sucking and biting. He swirls his tongue around you, making you gasp. He notices and does this more between quick bites and kisses.

Fast learner.

You exhale loudly, pulling him closer to you. Dragging your hands up his back, you grip the muscles over his shoulder blades. With your legs wrapping around his back, you pull him closer again. He moans and you feel him hard against you. You continue pressing him into your hips and letting him go to grind him back into you. Your breath quickening with his. The heat you felt all night becomes unbearable. With a low moan, you pull your shorts down your thighs. He sits up, pulling them off for you before removing his own pants.

Through his tight boxer briefs you can see the outline of him, tip peeking out the top of the elastic. It’s…definitely not small. Holy shit.

Your head spins slightly and you realize you've been staring for too long.

“Everything okay?” he asks. “Yeah. Everything's great.” you say, pulling him back to your side.

He kisses you for a moment before rubbing his hand over your panties, three fingers pressing down with his pinky instinctively pulled back. Getting carried away, you reach for his bulge, sliding your hand firmly over him.

“Wait.” he groans, moving your hand to his hip “in a bit, it's uh too distracting.”

He resumes moving his hands, sliding his hand under the fabric. You feel his middle finger slide down your slit then press hard back up, rubbing over your clit, making you moan loudly in his ear. He repeats this for a while before slipping back down and pressing his finger in. His finger quells the empty feeling you'd had all night. It feels amazing. You bite his shoulder, breathing hard into him. He begins sliding his middle finger in and out while his thumb comes up to press into your clit. The heat continues to build.

His movements start a bit sloppy, but he has the right idea. He's done his research, he's just unpracticed. Now he’s playing you like a new video game.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“Y-yeah” you half scream in his ear.

The corner of his mouth raises slightly and he adds another finger before picking up the tempo. You feel the pressure aching in your gut release, sending shock waves of pleasure all the way to your toes.

“Shig-” he presses his free hand over your lips.

“Tom-ura.” he corrects you between breaths.

You grip him harder, fingernails adding more scratches down his back. Burying your face in his neck you ride the waves pulsing through your body.

“Fuck” he moans into your ear “always wanted to do this.” His heavy lidded eyes watch yours as you moan and press into his hand.

When your orgasm begins to lull, you feel him slip out and you begin to catch your breath. You weren't back to normal yet, but you could feel your quirk again which is progress.

“Huh” he brings his hand closer to his face, inspecting his cum covered fingers. “That’s a fun reward.” He smiles at what his typically destructive hands created before licking his fingers.

You laugh and he brings his attention back to you.

Wanting to return the favor, you shimmy further down the bed and free him from his boxers. You drag your lips over the leaking tip while your hands work their way down his shaft, both your hands and mouth fitting easily over him at the same time.

“This is - amazing” he breathes, “but I think we should - you still need to - if - if you're ready.” He breaks off pulling himself back slightly to catch his breath.

Oh. Yeah. Right.

You remind yourself why you're in this situation in the first place. A “means to an end” as he put it.

You pause for a moment, taking in the surprise of him putting your well being ahead of his pleasure. This shouldn't have come as too much of a shock, he's always put you and the other league members first. You just didn't expect it in this context.

You make a mental note to give him a blow job as a thank you later, if he's okay with you touching him after this. Maybe he is just helping you but you still want to make it somewhat nice for him, he deserves that at least.

He presses his thumb inside your mouth, guiding you back down to the bed. You bite him lightly, making his eyes light up before he pulls back.

Tipping your hips up, you slide your now drenched underwear off, tossing them on the floor where he just threw his. You press back into the mattress before he moves over you and drops his elbow next to your shoulder.

Bringing his hips back, he lines himself up. In spite of how over-aroused you feel, you're still a bit nervous.

“you ready?” he asks.

“yeah” you smile, “you?”

“definitely.”

He bumps his tip into you, missing a few times before pulling himself up to your clit and pressing himself between your lips to slide down and in. His hips thrust forward, a little too fast for his size.

“eek” you squeak, scrunching your face slightly.

He freezes for a moment.

“Fuck. Uh…” he pulls back a bit, giving you time to adjust.

“just stay here for a second” you whisper in his ear, bringing your hands to his hips to keep him there.

You catch your breath and the burning stretch begins to feel more like a tickle. You slide your hands up his waist, feeling every muscle and scar on the way up. Bringing them around his back, you nod at him to continue.

His scarlet eyes watch you carefully for any signs of pain as he slowly pulls away and presses back in again. This continues a bit before he begins picking up speed and settling into a more consistent rhythm. You pull his hair from between your faces. Concentrating, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Wishing you could keep staring at him forever, you also want to feel him closer. You kiss the birthmark on his jaw before moving his mouth to yours.

He picks up the pace, bringing your breath to the top of your lungs. Your walls squeeze around him, sucking him further into you. You moan into his mouth while he moans back at you, continuing messy kisses.

You pull your legs up and wrap them around his back as tight as you can, bringing him as close to you as possible. He takes the hint and slides his hands under your ass, grabbing and pressing you up to him. He's so deep you can feel him throbbing into your cervix, sending pulses of heat into you with every movement.

The pressure aching in your gut rises to an all time high then drops suddenly, your satisfaction shooting through your body as you grip his hair with one hand and back with the other.

“Tomura” your scream comes out louder than expected, but you don't care if anyone can hear.

You feel yourself flutter around him. Every pulse drawing you tighter and subsequently, making you feel more full.

He's not far behind, breath catching in his throat before he presses in deeper, his sensitive tip gushing to fill you with cum as you quiver around him. “Oh fuck, y/n” he exhales into your neck before relaxing into you.

He rolls off and doesn't immediately kick you out which you take as a good sign. He sees the fact that you haven't run out the door as an okay to put an arm around you. Laying your head on his chest, you let out a massive sigh of relief. The dizziness and ache have passed, leaving you feeling more calm than you have in a long time. You decide to stay here for a while, waiting for the inevitable moment he asks you to leave but instead, he brings you closer. He wants to enjoy being able to touch someone for as long as possible. His breathing slowing with yours.

“I honestly thought there was a chance you'd pick a psych ward over me, y/n. You didn't really seem like the type to care about sex.” He continues in a less serious voice “I guess it’s good to know, with overwhelming horniness, the threat of insanity, and after I saved your ass, even I can be fuckable to you.”

“Are you kidding?” you laugh, “you’re always fuckable to me.”

Tomura takes a moment to process what he's just heard. Then he smiles and looks into your eyes “wanna go again?”

m.list

tags: @beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin @dija200

#my hero academia smut #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x smut #my hero academia imagine #shigaraki tomura x reader

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yangkitties · 9 months ago

Text

giving them flowers ✩ skz

pairing: ot8 x gn!reader || word count: 1.7k genre: 100% fluff 🫶 || warnings: none, vaguely proofread 😁 synopsis: skz when you give them flowers out of the blue! note: i am so sorry for taking so long with this post, i js got so caught up in so many things 😭 anyways i hope y'all enjoy it <3<3 also abby i hope you're happy its finally out, now plz get out of my walls 😘

Chan:

cries a little for sure

the ‘for me? rlly? rlly? rlly?’ kinda guy

kisses you so much like for real

takes the BEST care of the flowers, they survive for a whole two weeks somehow

even dries and presses them after they wilt and frames them <3

Disbelief washed over Chan’s face, his brain slowly processing what had just happened. He slowly drunk in the fact that you had brought him a bouquet of flowers, just because you could.

He watched silently as you presented the flowers to him him. Gingerly taking them from your hands, he observes in awe at the multitude of colours.

‘Are these really for me?’ He looks up at you with glossy eyes, head tilting to the side. You can only giggle, adoring his cute habits. You lean in to place a chaste kiss on his forehead, your actions speaking more than an essay of reassuring words ever could have.

‘I was walking back home and the bouquet reminded me of you. I had to get it, it would be a crime if I didn’t.’

The simple action warmed Chan’s heart, love and affection coursing through his veins. He hugged you suddenly, nuzzling his head into your neck. You smiled into his hair, enjoying the contact.

‘I love you, so dearly.’

Minho

dying and crying and wailing on the inside

he’s so damn grateful, he rlly can’t believe someone loves him like this

will not admit it, but tears up like 100%

‘thank you baby, but you’re prettier’ manages to pull an uno reverse and fluster you 😁

looks at them fondly from the couch

Usually when you picked him up from the airport, Minho could spot your face right from the get go. But today, all he could see was a large bouquet of colourful flowers, accompanied by a sign that read ‘Lee Minho’. As he approached the sign, the flowers shifted to the side to reveal Minho’s favourite view, your smiling face.

Giggling, he engulfs you in a tight hug.

’So who are these for, baby?’ He examines the bouquet, observing the bright hues.

’They’re for you silly!’ You hand him the bouquet and take his back pack from him. He stands agape, shock drawn over his sharp features.

‘Me.. me??’ His stuttering sends you into a fit of giggles, enjoying the rare moment where you got to see your boyfriend flustered.

Quickly regaining composure, he pulls you to his side, whispering in your ear, ’The flowers are pretty sweetheart, but they’re not as pretty as you.’ You gently slap his chest, hiding away into his jacket.

‘Oh, shut up.’

Changbin:

almost dies in a giggling fit

hugs them so tight the stems almost snap off T-T

appreciates it more than he can even tell

picks one out and puts it behind you ears :)

brags about it to the rest of them what an amazing partner you are

The shock etched on Changbin’s face when you reveal a bouquet to him sends you into a small fit of giggles. Accepting the flowers delicately, he marvels at the colours and types of flowers.

He smiles, pulling you into a hug. He squeezes, tighter and tighter, afraid his love for you might explode out of him. He whispers, softly against your ear,

‘I love them so much. So so so much.’ He hugs you tighter, and suddenly, snap. The sharp crunch of the stem of one of the flowers breaking cuts through the confession, startling the both of you.

‘Oh no… oh man.’ You cautiously examine the bouquet, worried it might fall apart. Changbin quickly identifies the broken flower, carefully picking it out of the bouquet.

‘Don’t worry baby, now I can do this.’ He deftly tucks the flower behind your ear, brushing away the hair on your face. He admires your face quietly, enjoying the fact that your cheeks are almost as pink as the flower.

Hyunjin

bawls. a lot. like uncontrollably 👍 bros a bit emosh if you will

babbles a million thank yous while kissing you

paints them so he can keep them forever!!

like chan he dries and presses them and makes a pretty craft work with it:)

makes you a better bouquet in return

When you sent flowers over to Hyunjin’s apartment, you really hoped he’d enjoy them. You knew how much he loved them, and when you saw the most delightfully beautiful bouquet of flowers, you knew you had to buy it for him.

When you received a photo of the bouquet with the text ‘they’re perfect’, you knew your job was done.

What you didn’t expect when you returned to the apartment was a painting of the exact bouquet you had given him. In the short time you were away, Hyunjin had managed to set the flowers in a vase and capture their exact likeness on a new canvas.

‘It’s the prettiest bouquet I’ve ever seen. I just think its beauty should be appreciated forever.’ He smiles simply as he walks over to you, long hands circling your waist.

He places a chaste kiss against your ear before whispering,

‘And so should yours.’

Jisung

jumping with joy !!

he’s twirling around the room really, he loves them so damn much

also brags to the members, definitely the happiest of them all

almost kills them within the first two days but miraculously keeps them alive for a whole week

smiles until his face hurts every time he sees them 🥰

The pure joy on Jisung’s face was enough to compensate for all the struggles you had to deal with to get a bouquet of flowers for him.

You watched him as he twirled around the room, practically bouncing off the walls in happiness. The little pink tulips bounced along with him as he ran to you.

‘THANK YOUUU!!! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!’ He screeches into your ears, giving you a soul crushing hug.

But it’s worth it. The near deafness, cracked ribs, and painfully happy grin on your face, becomes insignificant when you watch the gleaming smile on his face as he prances around the room, bursting with bliss.

Felix

So cute and lovely about it, thanking you continuously !!

Takes like. 1 million pictures.

Giggles like a school girl because the note says ‘sunshines for my sunshine’

Gets you a bouquet of your favourite flowers that very evening

Now it’s a competition and you keep getting each other bouquets… until the house starts attracting bees so you have to give them all away ☹️

When you heard about Felix bagging another modelling gig, you knew the perfect congratulatory gift would be a bouquet of white lilies. And as expected he loved them. He took about a million photos and gave you a million more kisses.

But what you didn’t expect was that when you got your big promotion, he would gift you with a bouquet of white tulips. Eventually, this started happening back and forth, each of you getting more and more extravagant bouquets for the other. It soon evolved into a symbol of affection and pride, the both of you showering each other in bouquets.

Sometimes it would be for actual reasons, and other times it was just because you wanted to. Staring at the umpteenth bouquet of the month, you swear your house had no more vases for it.

‘Lixxie… baby I think we’re all out of vases…’ You exclaim as he laughs, shocked at your behaviour.

‘Well, I just thinks we love each other so much more than what we can handle.’ He smiles at you, radiant as always.

Seungmin

dies. like. he really thinks he’s died and gone to heaven when he sees the bouquet

so quiet you think he doesn’t like them, but is quick to reassure you

bros like so damn speechless until you begin to start apologising and suddenly he can’t shut up

literally will not stop rambling about how grateful he is for them and how much he loves you until you kiss him

his ears are as red as the roses man he’s so down bad <3

When you showed up at the restaurant with flowers for him, Seungmin knew he would do nothing short of everything to keep you his.

With your dazzling smile, and honey sweet voice, you told him that the flowers for him, and in that moment his brain short circuited. A spiral of thoughts danced around his head, almost as chaotic as the butterflies in his stomach. The keyword was almost, because he was pretty sure the butterflies in his stomach had done cocaine.

He watched your smile morph into a frown, lips curling downwards.

‘Oh… do you not like them? Oh my god wait, are you allergic? Oh, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!!’ You frantically tried to remove the bouquet from beside him, afraid of triggering an allergic reaction. Your actions were quickly halted by Seungmin’s slider fingers around your wrist, eyes wide.

‘NO! No, no I mean no. I love them. SO much… I just. I love them so much I don’t know what to say.’ He smiles softly before taking your hands in his, holding them gently.

‘I love them, but I definitely don’t love them more than I love you.’

Jeongin

becomes a tomato !

bros FLABBERGASTED! giggles and kicks his feet and my god is he blushing

kisses your cheeks a lot he just loves them very much :D

almost accidentally undoes the bouquet while arranging it, thank god you’re there to help him-

now he expects one bouquet per week or he WILL pout and whine 😁👍

When Jeongin opens the door after hearing the bell, he expects to see your smiling figure, wearing a stolen hoodie and a bright smile.

Instead, he’s greeted with the sight of the most wonderful bouquet of flowers, a burst of almost every colour in the rainbow. Purples and yellows accompanied by splashes of pink and red greet him, as he gapes in shock, awestricken at the sight before him.

‘Hi Innie! Are you gonna let me in or am I going to have to stay here the whole day?’ Your voice piques from behind the flowers.

‘Oh god, yes, come in.. baby, are these.. for me?’ He questions awkwardly, shuffling around to let you in. He takes the flowers from you as you reach up to kiss his cheeks.

‘Well yes silly, who else am I going to get flowers for?’ You laugh at his stunned face, ears almost as red as the flowers in the bouquet.

You carefully take the flowers back from him, looking for a vase to place them in. You adore the way he follows you like a lost puppy, smiling fondly at the bouquet in your hands.

©️ yangkitties 2024 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost

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missnxthingg · 2 months ago

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 - 𝐹𝑂𝑈𝑅

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Single Mom!Reader (Best friends to lovers) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando and Y/N have always been the best of friends, always there for each other through thick and thin. After years of sharing the paddock and building their own silly little family, both of them just can't hold their feelings inside anymore, even though they're are both afraid it would ruin their friendship. So who'll take the first step? 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 6.1 K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - A few swearing and self depreciating behaviour, but this is a very very cute chapter as well! 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - We're almost done with the series 😭 only two more chapters to go. But I got so attached to it, I'm not ready to say goodbye

smau version | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

“Shh, keep your voice down”, Y/N said to Lando as they were about to open the door to her house. It was late night at London, and she was pretty sure Olivia was already put to bed by her mother, as usually. But she was surprised when they entered the house, finding her daughter almost tripping on her feet and sliding on the wooden floors with her socks, rushing to the front door.

“Uncle Lando!”, she shouted, jumping into his arms. “You won!”, she cheered, making him smile with how excited she was to see him. Lando buried his face in her hair, taking in all the glory of having Olivia so proud of him.

“I won! Did you see that I dedicated my win to you?”

“Yes, I did”, she smiled, resting her tiny hands on each of his cheeks and squishing them. Lando had the biggest and most genuine smile plastered on his face, one that he has reserved only for Ollie.

Y/N’s mother appeared right behind them with a tired smile. Apparently, the little one has been giving her grandmother a hard time since Lando crossed the finish line in Miami. By now, it’s been more than 24 hours since it happened, and Ollie was still all hyped about the win.

“She has been non-stop since yesterday. It was hard to put her to sleep last night, and today hasn’t been much easier”, her grandmother said, approaching the trio and pressing a kiss on top of her daughter’s head. “But it was cute to see her this excited about something. She really is your biggest fan, Lando”.

“Oh, I know it”, he assured. “She’s my lucky charm too”, he brushed the tip of their noses together, feeling happy to be reunited with his little girl.

“No kisses for mummy?”, Y/N complained, and Lando helped Ollie get closer to her mother. The little girl pressed a kiss to her mum’s cheek, but wasn’t really interest on giving me much attention. Her tiny arms quickly wrapped around Lando’s neck as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Fine, he’s the star of the moment, anyway”.

“I’ll take care of her. Try tiring her down”, he said. “Thank you so much for taking care of her, Mrs L/N”.

“Anytime, grand prix champion”, she smiled at Lando, who also earned a big kiss from her as well, making him blush with the gesture. Getting praise for Y/N’s mother, the woman who raised the love of his life, was better than any trophy. “And congratulations on your win. Hope you partied a lot yesterday”.

“We even missed our flight”, Lando laughed, looking back at Y/N, who tried her best to hide the embarrassment she was feeling at the moment. They only got to London so late because, in the heat of the moment, they forgot to set their alarms, waking up only at 1pm, missing not only their flight, but also the hotel’s breakfast and lunch.

“Sorry”, she scrunched her nose at her mother, who laughed at her reaction, shrugging the excuses off, knowing her daughter needed to live a little from time to time. Lando quickly entered the living room, ready to try tiring Olivia down in order for them to go to bed. Y/N’s mother read her daughter's expression and simply knew something had changed. It was the way they were glowing that gave it away.

“Did you finally confess your feelings for him?”, she whispered, being very direct about her question. Y/N’s eyes widened, and her entire face felt like it was on fire.

“Mum! Oh my God, shut up”, Y/N said, but her mother smiled maliciously, already knowing what that reaction meant.

“Just so you know, I think Lando’s perfect for you. And if something did happen between you, well... you have my full support”.

Y/N’s mother has known for a long time that her daughter is in love with her best friend. And Lando was such a good man for both of her girls. If there was someone she trusted to take care of them, it was him. So, secretly, she has been praying for them to finally admit their feelings for once.

“I’ll catch you up with everything another time. I still have things to figure out”, Y/N assured. “Thank you so much for taking care of Ollie once again. I love you”.

“Love you too, darling. I’ll see you before you head to Italy next week”.

Once they were left alone, Y/N finally entered her house properly, finding Lando sitting in the darkness of her living room, being only lit up by the television light. Olivia was sitting on his lap, her head peacefully resting over his chest as they whispered and talked with each other. He was running his hand through her hair as she told him every detail of her weekend. Then, Y/N noticed what her daughter was wearing: her butterfly pyjama trousers and her McLaren shirt with a big NORRIS 4 printed on the back. What a sight it was to admire.

She leaned against the frame of the living room’s door, silently observing the scene unfold in front of her, trying to go unnoticed by her daughter. Olivia slowly grew tired under Lando’s touch and closed her eyes, falling into deep sleep in the safeness of his hold. Once she was finally convinced the little girl had fallen asleep, Y/N took a seat next to her best friend and cuddle onto his arm too. He pressed a kiss on the crown of her head and relaxed under her touch, feeling finally complete to be reunited with both of his favourite girls.

“She loves you so much”, Y/N also caressed her daughter's hair and admired her tiny carbon copy sleep so peacefully. “She didn’t even care about me, only her favourite uncle and his win”.

“Jealous?”, he joked, making Y/N giggle.

“A little. But I understand her. It’s hard not to love you”, Y/N flirted, making his smile wider.

“I love you too”, he pressed a single and quick kiss to her lips, before turning his attention back to Olivia. She shifted on his lap, but snored in her sleep, too deep in dreamland to wake up.

“I don’t want to put her to bed”, Lando confessed. “I want to stay with her all night. I missed her so much”.

“She can sleep with us tonight”, Y/N assured, making him smile with the suggestion. He thought back to their night in Australia, when he got to end the day with both of his girls at the same time, and how happy that made him. Getting to experience this again, specially after last night, just hits different.

“Okay, let’s go then. I know we’re both tired from the flight”.

Ollie peacefully slept in her mother’s bed as Lando and Y/N took a quick shower after the flight, wanting to get to bed freshly after washing the tiredness away. They showered together, without any second intention behind it, just to save some time. And it felt so natural and intimate for them, like they had been doing it for years. It’s crazy how things simply work when they are together.

Quickly, they were back into bed, cuddled together with Ollie in the middle. Lando kept running his hands through his goddaughter’s hair, finding it so cute to see how serene she looks when she’s sleeping.

“The way you look at her…”, Y/N commented, with the biggest smile on her face.

“She’s everything to me”, Lando assured, his eyes never leaving Olivia. “I remember the first time I ever held her in the arms, and she sighed a little in her sleep, reacting to my touch. I felt so happy to have her there with me, after so many months anticipating her arrival. That moment, I vowed that I would do everything in my power to protect and make her happy until the day that I die”.

“You make her the happiest”, Y/N said. “You’re the closest thing to a dad she has ever had in her life. And I’m glad that you are. Because having someone like you, loving her so much like this and making sure she’s happy, protect, safe… She deserves it all and more”.

“I never thought it was fair that Olivia’s father was never even interested in meeting her, because she's the best little girl in the world. And he doesn’t know what he’s missing. She’s the most funny and intelligent kid to ever be born. The entire joy and brightness in the world. If I were him, I would regret missing out on all of this”.

“I think she’s better off without him as well”.

“I think so too, don't get me wrong”, he justified. “It's just… I wanted her to have a happy, complete family, as I do. I vowed to do anything for her because she deserves a mum and dad that loves her with her whole heart. Such a pure and loving kid doesn’t deserve to feel like something is missing”.

“You never made her feel that way”, Y/N reassured Lando, now with her eyes brimming with tears. “She feels so loved and full because of you”.

“No, baby, it’s all because of you”, he smiled, brushing his thumb on Y/N’s cheek. “You did the best job as a mum. I was just here to help out and give her all the love she can get. But you… well, you were the one to raise Ollie, to turn her into the most amazing little girl in the world. I am so proud of you”.

“You’re going to make me cry”, Y/N confessed, already wiping tears from her eyes.

“It’s okay, I’m crying too”, he giggled, his eyes brimming with tears after the words he said. “I love you both, so much. You save me every day”.

“We love you too, Lando”.

Not long after that, he fell into deep sleep, which Y/N noticed because he started with his signature snoring a few minutes later. But she remained wide awake through the whole night, finally having time to process everything that had happened in the past 24 hours. Now looking at Lando, sleeping with his arms draped around Olivia and touching the skin of her arm, she thought life couldn’t get more perfect than that.

Last night in Miami had been everything she wished for. And she was glad it continued the next morning, when they were properly sober, but Lando was still willingly kissing her and showering her with all the love he could give. But what did that mean for them? Were they a couple from now on?

Y/N fell asleep without an answer. And she didn’t really have an answer for weeks after that, because they didn’t talk about it ever again. Lando still kissed her behind closed doors, and she was even considering maybe asking McLaren to stop booking her a hotel room, because she basically ended up sleeping with him anyway. He continued saying he loved her every moment he could and was now spending more time in her place than his own after the races.

To be fair, she didn’t blame him for the lack of communication between them. After Miami, McLaren skyrocketed into the championship, getting closer and closer to properly fighting Red Bull for the win; yet, Lando still couldn’t take another win. He almost did in Imola, but in Monaco he didn’t even get to step on the podium. Then he got stuck in P2 in Canada and lost his pole position to Verstappen in Spain. The long strike of ‘almosts’ were consuming Lando, and Y/N didn’t want to put their relationship into discussion to make him more stressed.

The triple header was especially hard for Lando, because all the tension from the season, combined with all the travels, intense routines and different time zones, were making him sick. Their first night in Barcelona, she spent almost completely awake by his coughing through the night. On Sunday, after he lost his pole position to Max Verstappen on the first corner, he started burning in fever, making her change her flight from London to Monaco, where she could take proper care of him before Austria.

It didn’t help at all that he did not finish the race in the Red Bull Ring after another collision with Max. Lando blamed himself too much when things go wrong, and it was taking a toll on him. And that night, Y/N saw something that only happens on very rare occasions, behind closed doors: him crying.

“Oh, baby, don’t be so hard on yourself”, Y/N held his face between her hands and whipped off the tears that were streaming from his eyes. He sobbed a little, feeling a little better to have her there with him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I just want you”, he sobbed, pulling her for a hug. Lando buried his face on her belly and cried under her touch, because he felt protected. With Y/N, he could be vulnerable.

“It could be good for you to talk about it”, she tried, running her hands through his curls. “You can just talk, and I won't reply, if you want”.

“Yeah, that would be cool”, he said. “I don't want you trying to come with excuses of why I'm not a loser”.

“Oh, my love”, she lowered herself to his eye level and cleaned his tears with her thumbs. “Don’t say that”.

“Y/N…”, he started, reminding her of the agreement they made a few seconds ago. She nodded in agreement, pressing a kiss on his cheek, encouraging him to talk.

“I fucking suck”, he complained. “I know McLaren is doing great and that I'm not meeting everyone’s expectations right now. I wasted my pole in Spain and today, I didn't finish the fucking race. And I'm so tired, of all the travelling and being away from home. I miss my mum and dad. I miss my siblings. I miss Olivia more than anything in the world. I just want to go home”.

“We'll be home tomorrow”, she assured him. “And Ollie will be waiting for you so we can go golfing, and your parents are coming to London to spend time with us. Your family will always get your back”.

“I know”, he smiled weakly. “I love you so much. And thank you for just listening. I'm sick and tired of people wanting to have a say in my life”.

“You just needed to vent”, she sat next to him and pulled him into a side hug. “And you know that I'm always here to listen, because I love you more”.

“I think that's impossible, beautiful”, he cracked a genuine giggle, pulling her for a kiss, wanting nothing more than to just feel her for a second.

“Let's go get things ready to go home”, she tugged his shirt, pulling him out of their bed. “Oscar and the team are waiting for us to fly home”.

Lando wished he was absolutely happy to be back home. But he was exhausted, and the entire week he spent in London, he stayed buried inside home, needing this time to recharge his energies and move onto the next race. His entire family came visiting after Y/N asked them to come in hopes to make him feel better.

It did help. Adam came almost every day for lunch and kept Lando distracted most of the time. But Olivia always kept him occupied, being his biggest fan and dragging him around the house to play with her. Cisca often came as well, and even prepared a special dinner to cheer him up, thinking maybe her son would find comfort in her food.

But no one helped him as much as Olivia did. After school in the morning, she’d spend the entire afternoon at home now that she had someone to look after her. So while Y/N was away working at the MTC, Lando would stay at home having fun with her goddaughter. But even the moments with his favourite little girl weren’t doing much to light up the mood.

One night that week, Y/N was cooking them dinner while Ollie was watching a movie in the living room. Lando arrived frustrated after a quick meeting with the team, shedding some shy tears when he came inside the house. When he found the little girl in the living room, he simply curled into Ollie’s hold and didn’t let go off her for the rest of the night.

She most definitely noticed that her uncle wasn’t his happy and bubbly self. So Olivia found her simple way to make him feel a little better by rolling her tiny fingers through his curls. Lando had been resting his head over her lap and relaxed her touch.

“Why are you so sad, uncle Lan?”, Ollie asked, making him look up at her through his lashes. Lando got a hold on one of her hands and held it gently, rubbing circles on its back. “Is it because of the crash?”

“Yeah”, he admitted, not wanting to explain how bigger this whole thing was to him. It was more than the crash, but Ollie wouldn’t understand that. “But I'll be okay. Just need to be with you and mummy for a second”.

“Don't be sad. Mummy and I love you”, she lowered her head to give him a kiss and it made his heart warm, and he cracked the first big and genuine smile the whole weekend.

“I love you too. Both of you, baby girl”, he assured, having a quick glance at Y/N, that was under his view on the kitchen. Everything would be okay, as long as they had his girls.

Silverstone came quickly after those few days home. Even though he always loved his home race, along with the energy of the fans, it was stamped on his face how much he needed a break. All Lando could think about was summer break and how much he wanted to make this one special.

Even though he was having probably one of the worst weekends of his life, all he could think about was Y/N. The past few months next to her have been more than amazing, beyond his biggest wishes. She was the only constant in his life lately, and Lando wanted for it to be that way until his last breath. It’s been too long since they got together, and he still didn’t make things official.

Lando didn’t want to make their turning point as a couple something as simple and ordinary as a quick talk during the day. He wanted to make it special, and he has been planning on a way to make it happen for a long time. All Y/N had to do is agree.

“What do you think about spending some time in Spain during the break?”, he asked Y/N, as they were getting ready for the press conference in Silverstone. She was taking care of his curls, as usual, in his driver's room, and arched her eyebrows at his suggestion. “You, me and Olivia. A family holiday”.

“It would be nice”, Y/N smiled. “But remember, my break isn't as long as yours. I still have work to do”.

“But you do have a week off, and we can enjoy that”, he suggested. “I feel like we could all use some recharging somewhere nice and hot. I was thinking Mallorca”.

“Carlos used to say it was a nice summer destination”, she said, running her hands through his curls. “Then you'll go back to Monaco?”

“I was thinking about staying here. Not in your house, if you don't want to, but in England”.

“If you don't stay in my house, I'll be offended”, she joked, making him giggle.

“Then I'll stay right here with you”, he bumped her nose with his finger and smiled. “Mallorca then. I'll book us a hotel”.

“Perfect”.

Lando had a lot of summer breaks around the world, partying in the best clubs in Europe and having the time of his life with his friends and girls. But nothing ever beat how good it felt to have a time off with his family, watching Ollie playing on the sand while getting tanned next to Y/N on a calm beach, away from mayhem and any cameras that would ruin their privacy.

“Can you put sunscreen on my back?”, Y/N pulled Lando out of his thoughts, extending him the tube of sunscreen. He promptly nodded and stood up, ready to help her.

He gently applied the product on her skin, feeling its warmth on his hands, making him smile. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him, making him blush under her glance.

“I love you. Have I told you that today?”

“No, not today”, he said, and she leaned to give him a quick peck. “I love you too”.

“Your face is getting red. Let me put some sunscreen on your face”.

Y/N dabbed a few dots of sunscreen on Lando's face and before she could spread it, Olivia rushed to them and jumped over his lap.

“Come play with me, uncle Lan”.

“Let mommy just put some sunscreen on my face, baby”, he said.

“Do you want to do it, love?”, Y/N asked, and Ollie nodded excitedly, using her little fingers to carefully spread the dots on his face. “Good job, Ollie”.

“My girls, always taking such good care of me”, Lando cheered. “I love you so much”.

“I love you, uncle Lan”, Olivia hugged him and pressed lots of kisses on his cheek. “Come play with me”.

“Let's go, my love”.

Lando held Olivia's tiny hand and they walked together towards the shore, where she was building her sandcastle. Y/N stayed behind and took some pictures of them playing together. He helped his goddaughter put sand inside the beach bucket and then decorate it with more sand. Ollie listened carefully to his tips and followed his steps to work together as they giggled with their job. Y/N joined them shortly after, taking some pictures from up close, just to have that moment registered forever.

“Do you like it, momma?”, Olivia asked, pointing to their creation.

“Very much, baby. You did a good job”, Y/N praised, pressing herself on Lando's side and earning a long kiss on her temple. “Can I join you?”

“Always”, Lando said, giving her a shovel to join their work.

Lando and Y/N tired Olivia down to the point where she fell asleep in the longue chair, covered with a towel, as the sun setted on the ocean. The couple sat a little bit further, with their feet dipped inside the water, as they watched the day ending together. She rested her head on his shoulder and he pressed kisses on top of her head, feeling a peace he hasn't felt in a really long time.

"This is the most perfect summer break ever", he admitted. "I don't know why we had never done it before”.

"No, but we did. Remember when we took Ollie to Brighton with your brother?”

"Yeah, but it wasn't a proper vacation, to a nice beach and a nice hotel”, he said. "I'm just glad to be here with you today. It means the world to me”.

"We're glad to be here too. Ollie is having the best time” she kissed his cheek, making him open the biggest smile. "Don't you miss partying in clubs, golfing with your friends and everything?”

"I miss golfing, but not so much partying", he said. "I would rather be here with my family than with people who couldn't care less about me".

Lando took advantage of their alone time, with no kids and no prying eyes, to kiss her. He gently held her chen and pulled her closer, locking their lips together and savouring the softness in her touch in the calmness of the beach.

"You know, I wow, thinking about the moment we met in the past few days", Lando started, breaking their kiss. “You looked just as lost as me at the MTC, scared to be stepping into unknown waters, just like me. But you cracked a laugh when I made you a joke".

"It made me relax. I was so tense on my first week in McLaren”, she remembered.

"It was so easy for us to become friends. I don't even remember a day I went on without talking to you”, he laughed. "I adored you so much that I never wanted to be away from you. Not for a second at least”.

"Well, the first time I was on track was because you begged Zak to bring me along", she giggled. "Even though I was just the social media kid”.

"I wanted you there for me in Silverstone, because it was pointless to be with my entire family, but not be with my favourite person in the world”.

“I was your favourite person back then?”

“You've always been”, he smiled brightly. “I think back to all the moments we've shared in the past few years and realize that you have always been the happiest part of them all”.

“Even through rough times?”

“Especially through rough times”, Lando admitted. “You've taken care of me like no one ever did. You taught me how to feel safe, how to be vulnerable. How to feel and show love. You are the most important person in my life, Y/N. You're home, even when I'm far away from home. And you've given me a family that makes me feel so happy”.

“You know I do all of this because I love you”.

“I love you too”, he replied. “And that's why I think we're ready to take the next step, even though we were taking things slow”

Lando promptly got up from his place and went to search for his wallet inside Y/N's purse. He had sneaked a ring inside it earlier, and was now kneeling in front of her, holding the jewellery with a tiny pink rock on top of it.

“A promise ring?”, she chuckled. “I feel like a teenager again”.

“I thought that an engagement ring would be too far gone”, Lando giggled. “But this is a promise that I will love you for eternity. And this is me asking you to be my girlfriend, officially this time. With the cute coupley photos on Instagram, openly holding hands in the paddock and sharing a house, maybe”.

Y/N was speechless with his words, and Lando started to worry when she didn't say anything. He could see the panic on her face.

“You don't want to be my girlfriend?”, he frowned.

“Of course I do, Lando. I want to be your girlfriend more than anything in the world”, she delicately held his face between her hands and sighed. “It's just… I've been thinking a lot about us lately, and I realized that if we're going to give this a try, you have to know that Olivia will always be a part of the equation”.

“What do you mean by that?”

“It means that if you agree to jump into this relationship, I need you to be aware that Ollie will always come as a part of the package”, she said. “I can’t jump into a relationship, make her get attached to a boyfriend of mine, only to have him run away from our lives because he's not ready for the fatherly commitments”.

Lando nodded in understatement, and let her continue talking. “I know you love Olivia, and I have no doubt that you'll always be there for her when she needs it. But you need to understand that she will always come first. And I am not asking you to step into the father position, but I need to know that you're aware of this compromise and that you're okay with it”.

“Of course I'm okay with it. And I am ready for this responsibility”, he said, but Y/N shook her head, opening a sympathetic smile.

“Lan, I want you to think about these words, okay?”, she said. “I want you to reflect how these responsibilities will affect your life if we continue this, alright? And just know that I won't be mad if you decide that this isn't something you can do. I will always love you. But I need to take care of Olivia before anything. I can’t afford to have someone walking out of her life again”.

Lando took a deep breath, trying to assimilate the words she had just said. When it dawned on him, he felt proud of Y/N for putting Olivia before her own happiness. He would've done the same in her position.

“I promise to think about it with my whole heart”, he assured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Because I love you and I love Ollie, and I want this to work out”.

“I know you will, and I know you do”, she leaned up and pecked his lips, smiling in the process. “You don't need to rush. Let's just continue with the way things are right now”.

And so they did, for the rest of the trip. And then again for the week they spent together in England. While Y/N worked for their return to Formula 1 from summer break, Lando took care of Olivia through her school break. He always planned ways to keep her entertained for the day, took care of her basic needs such as food, and showered her with all the love and attention he could give.

One day, when he had planned a golf day with his friends, Ollie woke up sick and burning in fever. Y/N was ready to call work to take care of her, but Lando cancelled his plans to stay home with his goddaughter.

“I promise to take good care of her while you're away”, he said, pressing a kiss on top of Y/N's head.

“But you were looking forward to this day with Max and the boys”.

“Yeah, but she's more important”, he smiled with the corner of his mouth. “I'll make sure she's okay and call you if it gets worse. Then, if you think it's necessary, we can take her to the hospital at night”.

“Alright”, she sighed. “Thank you so much. I promise to try being as quick as possible at work”.

“Don’t worry about it. She's in good hands”, Lando assured, taking a hold on her hand, making sure she was comforted enough to leave her daughter with him. She opened a small and sad smile, squeezing his hand twice before getting back to dressing up for work.

“I know she is”, she said, entering her bedroom, where Olivia was lying under the covers, concentrated on her favourite cartoon. Lando slipped into the blankets and enveloped her in a comforting hug. Ollie sighed as she rested her head on his belly and closed her fingers on his shirt, locking him closer to her.

Out the corner of her eyes, Y/N watched Lando run her hands through her daughter’s hair, who quickly fell asleep under his touch, as she changed her clothes to work. She quickly did a light makeup to leave the house and gathered everything she needed to drive to the MTC for the day. Then, once she was done, she sat next to Lando in bed, and he softly smiled at her.

“You’re making me want to still call-off work and stay cuddled with you all day”, she giggled. “But unfortunately, your image is a lotta work. So I have a few meetings to discuss your next media duties”

“Be kind to me and don’t get me in any boring media duties”, he asked. “And we’ll be here for when you get back. Now, kiss kiss, mama”.

Lando pouted, making Y/N giggle before kissing him gently on the lips. She finally relaxed under his touch, feeling like things were finally under control this morning. Of course, seeing Olivia ill always made her heart ache, but he would take good care of her.

Just the fact that he decided to sacrifice his entertainment, a day with his friends, made Y/N see him under different eyes. Maybe he really was thinking about what they talked about in Mallorca. And maybe he was already seeing the responsibilities that have talked about and was taking them.

Olivia always comes first.

“I’m taking the McLaren, by the way”, she winked at him as she exited the room, carrying her big Louis Vuitton bag, that had been a gift from her last year’s birthday from him, to which had already become a signature for busy work days. It would look perfect with his McLaren Artura, parked on the garage.

“Suit yourself. Just be careful or Zak will kill us both”, he asked, watching her walk away to get her day started.

Lando made sure to always have an eye on Olivia through the entire day. He kept her hydrated and fed as he checked on her temperature occasionally. Also, he showered her with all the love he could give, because with how little active she has been all day, it broke her heart to see her so bad. And by the time Y/N arrived home, Ollie’s fever was long gone and she was already feeling better.

“Thank you so much for taking care of her. It means a lot to me that you did”, Y/N’s lips curved into a small smile as she ran her fingers through his curls.

“I’ll always be here for her. You know that”, he assured. “Now that she’s passed out in bed, I bought us dinner. Italian take out, your favourite. And made sure to get you some wine, because it must’ve been a stressful day”.

“Tell me about it”, Y/N laughed. “I actually save your ass from a very boring interview with a magazine. So you have a lot to thank me for”.

“My hero”, he wrapped his arms around her and guided her to the kitchen, where he served her with a good glass of wine. Then he served their food and they got to share their meal together.

“How was your day?”, she asked and he shrugged.

“It was alright. Definitely would much rather have played around the house with Ollie for the entire day. It hurts so much to see her so powerless. But I gave everything in me to make sure she was alright”, he said.

“I don’t have words to thank you for today”.

“You don’t have to thank me for anything”, he assured. “I was thinking about what we’ve talked in Mallorca, about the commitment and having your entire life change for a kid. And I think I’m ready for this, you know? Today I understood when you said that Ollie comes first, and that she’s a priority”.

“Are you sure, Lan? You don’t actually have to decide now”.

“But I’m decided”, he prompted. “I love her so much, Y/N. And I want to be there for her every day. I know I’ve always been here somehow, but I’m ready to be her father, if you want me to. I don’t want to step too far into your lives, but I want to be in this position. I think I’ve always wanted to, actually”.

Y/N dropped her glass of wine and got up from the table, jumping into his arms and giving him the biggest kiss. Lando smiled between the kiss and deepened it just a few seconds later, pulling her into his lap and living that moment at its fullest.

“I love you so much”, she said, her eyes brimming with tears. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and everything I ever wished for me and Ollie”.

“I love you too”, he replied. “And our family is the most important thing in my life. I’ll make sure you both always feel loved and protected under any cost”.

Later that night, when both of them went to bed, Y/N knew that things would finally be different for them. They wouldn’t have to hide this relationship from anyone, and they could finally be able to live their love freely. She couldn’t wait to shout to the world that Lando Norris was the love of her life, and that they were bound to be together forever.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 . 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris series #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfiction #ln4 #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x reader #lando norris fluff

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chosok-amo · 11 months ago

Note

You wanted request, what about megumi reacting to Jealous reader ? Or maybe jealous megumi?🤪

WITH THIS TREASURE I SUMMON: MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

you and megumi are in situationship, nothing more, nothing less. but he knows how you used to have a crush on yuta okkotsu, but he doesn't know that you don't anymore. so when he sees you wearing yuta's sweater he almost summons mahoraga if you don't take off the sweater.

content warning: fluff! jealous! megumi

“i had a thought.”

“oh no.”

“i swear it's a good one this time,” he pleaded.

the short hair girl, nobara kugisaki, rolled her eyes and raised her hand to the pink-haired boy, “you want me to hammer your head, yuji?” the boy only sighs in defeat as his shoulder slumps. “you suck, kugisaki,” he howled. you let out a little laugh and shook your head slowly at the behaviour of your two classmates. the never-ending bickering of them never not amused you.

you walk to megumi, your other classmates with a plate of meat in your hands. he is standing there, grilling some meat alone. “hi,” you whisper to him and kiss his cheeks when you stand beside him. he quickly looks around afraid to find someone who's looking at what you've just done. “y/n,” he whispered in warning. you just giggle at him and give his lips a peck— not caring about the way his cheeks turn crimson red and his eyes open wide. you also don't care if anyone sees you.

“what?” you ask, giving him a quick glance. he keeps silent and continues to look at you. you rolled your eyes and let out a sigh. “i can kiss you whenever i want, nobody's watching anyway,” you tell him. you and megumi are friends, you can say that, or maybe you can't. both of you are way too romantic to be called friends but less to be called a couple— a situationship, maybe that's the right word.

when he came back after the mission, megumi never came to his room first, always looking for you and spending the night in your dorm room. holding and kissing you like his life depends on it. when in public, megumi is a private person, he doesn't talk much, he's calm and collected. he doesn't show his feelings when it's unnecessary. but when he's with you, he's like an open book and talks too much, even more than you. you could spend a whole day only listening to him talking, telling you a story about when he was little, even when first he meets gojo and is adopted by the brush-look-alike man.

and you are always grateful for that. you feel special with the way he treated you, the way his green eyes always twitch with love whenever you come to vision, the way his lips tremble with how hard he tries to hide his smile when you walk your way to him and everyone's around. you hope that was enough but of course being a human who's hungry with desire, you want your relationship with megumi to have a name— boyfriend and girlfriend.

you want him to be yours, badly. you want to have the right to be jealous when some girl is hitting on him when you go outside. it makes you feel suffocated to the point you feel like you can explode any second. you feel like you—

“y/n?”

you flutter your eyes before snapping your neck to the side to find megumi looking at you with narrowed eyes. “you alright?” he asked, worried. you cleared your throat and nodded, “yeah, sorry,” you smiled at him. he looked at you for a few seconds before nodding his head. “no problem, baby,” he softly said.

that day, you spend your evening having fun with your friends and your teachers. talking about a lot of things and laughing. thanks to your rich teacher, you can sleep peacefully and happily with a stomach full of expensive meat and expensive food you cannot afford with just student expenses alone. blessing gojo satoru's soul for having this barbeque party and feeding you and your friends. he is indeed acts like a father rather than a teacher sometimes.

time moves fast and the air gets more chilling every hour. right now you're sitting with yuta okkotsu, your senior alone, having a drink. he's a special grade curse, handsome, soft-spoken as well as soft-hearted person, that's why you used to have a crush on him. the first time you saw him was the day he fought with suguru geto. and that was instantly love at first sight. seeing how strong and cool he was fighting with the long-haired guy makes your heart beat faster than usual. and since then, everyone knows you're having a crush on him, and you're not planning to not make it obvious.

you sometimes send the boy flying kisses and laughing after seeing him become flustered and blushing. flirting with him from time to time until it becomes a habit— until you realize you're not having a crush on him anymore. you just love the way he's quickly looking away when he caught you already looking at him when he's become red like a steam crab when you hug him or playfully kiss his cheeks, you just love teasing him and making him stutter. it's adorable.

and megumi doesn't know that. he believes that your crush on the second-year special-grade sorcerer is unfaded. that's one of the reasons why he doesn't girlfriend you yet— afraid that the feelings aren't mutual and he doesn't want to get hurt. but seeing you sitting there, touching yuta's shoulder from time to time as you share a laugh at whatever you both were talking about pissed him off. “what's a good thing about him any way other than being a special grade sorcerer? he's a womanizer,” he ranted under his breath. doesn't realize yuji looking at him with his eyebrows lifted. he follows where megumi eyes stare at where you were.

“you know yourself that he's more than a special grade sorcerer, if you like y/n that much why don't you tell her?”

“yeah I know, but— what?”

surprised, megumi snapped his neck so fast that yuji was afraid he was gonna break it. his green eyes widened as he looked at the pink-haired boy. “did I say that out loud?” he asked, to which yuji responded with a nod. “why don't you tell her? I'm sure she likes you too, wait— are you jealous, fushiguro?” megumi's face became red in embarrassment and became an understatement as he looked away from his best friend. yuji snickers and grabs the boy's face by the chin— forcing him to look at you as he tightly closes his eyes. he rolls his eyes in annoyance when he finally opens his eyes and the sight of you getting too friendly with yuta meets his vision.

“no way— you're actually jealous,” he laughed.

and yuji spends the rest of the hour making fun of megumi but also giving him advice and moral support. forcing the spike-haired boy to confess his feelings to you and become girlfriend and boyfriend already. of course megumi try not to pay any mind to what sukuna's vessel rambling about, it's yuji after all. he's the worst anyone could get any advice from after gojo.

after the talk with yuji, megumi sits by himself in the garden in gojo's backyard. loss in his deep thought to realize you are already walking toward him, smiling. “fushiguro~” you sang happily and sat on his lap sideway with one arm wrapped around his neck— lips forming the biggest smile the boy has ever seen. “what do you want? go back to your yuta,” again, megumi rolls his eyes. you jut your lips as you look at him. “so mean,” you jived.

“you look upset, what's wrong?

“do you have fun talking to him? you must be, you've been spending an awful lot of time with him and wearing his sweater,” his snarky remark makes you want to kiss him to death. but right now you try to enjoy the show and play innocent. “what are you trying to say megumi?” you ask him. he looks at you for a moment while holding your hand before looking away.

“just go hang out with yuta, you've gotten good at that.”

“are you perhaps.. jealous, megumi?”

he scoffs and glances at you again before saying, “me? jealous of him? bless his delusional heart,” he sassed. you fit a giggle and cup his right cheek. his green narrowed eyes looking at you unpleasant and pouting his lips, without him realizing. “you're so cute when you're jealous,” you mumble and give him a little peck on the lips. “you know you're the only one I love,” you tell him, this time you're the one who's not realizing. and after that, for a few seconds both of you just looked at each other, too shocked to say something. “what did you just say?” megumi whispered, eyes open wide.

“what?”

you look away and get off of his lap. before you get a chance to run away megumi already grabs your hoodie— giving you no chance to run. he pulled the hoodie up lightly, forcing you to get close to him. “you love me?” he asked, this time you could see he was trying to keep his lip from smiling. you clear your throat and pull the hoodie from megumi's fist before facing him. “isn't that obvious? i— i thought you knew,” you mumble. suddenly feeling the shyness hug your body as megumi pierces his eyes at you intensely.

“what about yuta?”

“what about him? oh— I just realized I never liked him that much.” you shrugged your shoulder unbothered. “cool,” megumi whispered. he pulls you closer before locking his fingers behind your waist, hugging you. “let's do that—” you place both your hands on his chest while looking up at him. you lift your eyebrows and indicate that you don't understand what he is referring to. “that thing, boyfriend and girlfriend thing.” he smiles, his cheeks turn red, body suddenly feels hot, waiting for your answer.

you nodded, “okay.” smiling back at him.

without waiting for another second he crashed his lips to yours, locking them gently and smiling between the kisses. he pulls you closer as you wrap your arm around his neck. after a minute he pulled away and took a full fist of the hoodie that you're wearing. “take off this hoodie and use mine.” you stay silent for a moment before shaking your head and turning away. “nah,” you disagree. you heard gaps from behind you, “what do you mean nah?!” you turned around, “i'm cold, and yuta has the comfiest hoodie,” you told him.

“take off the hoodie y/n.”

“nah, what are you gonna do about it?” you put both hands on the hips and stick your tongue out to him. megumi clenched his fist and poses like his about to summon mahoraga. “with this treasure I summon—”

“the fuck— fine,” you run to him to hit his shoulder.

“you're so annoying,” you grumble and pull him to go back inside. megumi just gives you his sheepish smile and lets you drag him.

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro imagine #megumi fushiguro smut #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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cobaltperun · 5 days ago

Note

Hi, I was just wondering if you could do a bottom Tara x top g!p female reader fic?!

where Tara and reader are dating but when sam finds out she forbids reader to come over to their apartment the only time they see each is in college. So T and R are texting 24/7 and one evening things get a little spicy like they start sexting ig sending stuff too each other (if you get what I mean) then Tara decides to sneak out because she's missing reader (vice versa) and goes to reader's apartment and they do it for the first time also could it be soft smut and some aftercare maybe. It's just T and R being gay af!

You don't have to do this btw thanks either way!Bye have a good day/night :)

Rule Breakers

SMUT! Bottom Tara Carpenter x Top G!P Female Reader

Masterlist

Word count: 4.9k

“You are what?!” the scream Sam let out echoed through the apartment making absolutely everyone present, you and Tara included, flinch. This was not the reaction you hoped for, though Tara did warn you it would probably be like this. You had no idea how bad it would get.

“We are dating,” Tara repeated and you could tell by the way she reached out and grabbed your hand that she desperately needed to feel your touch to calm down. How could Sam not see that? See beyond the fact that she herself didn’t know you?

“Absolutely not! Tara you met her what? A month ago?” Sam was not accepting this at all. You could see the fury in her eyes as she looked at you as if you immediately threatened to hurt her sister. You knew what the reason was and you definitely couldn't blame her for it. But it still hurt to see she didn't trust Tara's judgment. Tara was an adult. She went through even more than Sam did and she just wanted to live her life, which included falling in love and dating, and you hoped one day moving in with you so you could build your future together.

Yeah. You were whipped.

“Four months, actually,” Tara rolled her eyes. The two of you met in college on the first day. You sat next to each other and immediately got along and fast forward three months, some time after she had opened up to you about how she was attacked and nearly killed by one of her closest friends, she just asked you out and you accepted it. You definitely developed a crush on her a lot sooner than that, and while that wasn't important at the moment you really believed Tara knew that all along. She just had a way of knowing just how you felt about her, in her own words, you were an open book in her eyes.

“That's not nearly long enough,” Sam pointed the finger at you, the fury in her eyes not fading even slightly.

“Hey, Sam wait!” Tara tried to stop her sister, but it was too late.

“Out right now. If I ever see you close to Tara things will not end well for you,” you had no doubts about just how serious Sam was and you saw Tara’s jaw dropping.

“What the fuck Sam?!” Tara screamed at her sister and quickly turned to you as you got up. “No this isn't what I want!” she jumped to her feet after you and stepped in front of you. “Hey, just listen to me, this isn't what I want,” it hurt you to see her like this, in pain and afraid, and her eyes already filling with tears.

For the first time since you came to the apartment you glared at Sam.

“Come on Sam give it girl a chance,” Chad tried to get her to see reason but a single glare shut him down.

“I will not risk Tara's safety,” Sam would not listen, in fact, she stood up as if to show you the way out. You swallowed the lump in your throat as Tara grabbed onto your hand to keep you from leaving, tears were falling down her face.

“I don't want this, please,” her hands trembled as she said that and for a moment you stopped glaring at Sam.

Your eyes softened and you gently brushed the tears off Tara’s face. “I know you,” whispered and leaned down to kiss her, Sam be damned. Tara relaxed into the kiss, realizing you weren’t going to leave her, and she kissed your back and poured all of her love into that one single kiss. When you separated you turned to Sam returning her glare without flinching for a single moment.

Sam was intimidating there was no doubt about it, but this was a lot more important. “You can try all you want, Sam, you will not scare me away. Got it? Drop the protective big sister bullshit because no one gets to make my girlfriend cry. Not even you,” the temperature in the room dropped when you said that and you could tell everyone just got on the verge of running away and you could not blame them.

Sam looked even more furious, she looked ready to spit fire and rain hell upon you, but you stood your ground. And to make your defiance even more clear you stepped around Tara and faced her sister head on with nothing blocking her path.

Sam remained silent for now, just glaring at you and you nodded, feeling like this ended about as well as it could. “Glad that's clear, I’ll see you later Sam,” you made your point clear, there was no reason to stick around because hanging out with Tara at this point, in this situation and in their apartment wouldn’t do any good for anyone, you and Tara especially.

~X~

She absolutely won the lottery. She would never try to even purchase a ticket because all her luck was just spent on getting the most amazing, badass girlfriends she could ever hope for. Did the way you talked back to Sam make her wet? Yes, yes it did.

Would she have gone to her room to handle that if everyone else still wasn’t at the apartment? Yes, she would have.

Would she do it tonight? Absolutely.

~X~

After what happened last week you and Tara kept seeing each other only at college, and that, more often than not, led to both of you just ditching the classes and getting coffee and croissants from a local bakery you both loved to visit. You did not expect that single decision to haunt you for the rest of the week. You both thought you were just that slick about it as you skipped several classes over the past week just so you spend time together and act like an actual couple instead of two people hiding from the world.

The world in this case being Tara's sister.

If Tara started failing classes because of her absence, well, that would be entirely on Sam.

~X~

Tara should have seen the trouble coming from a mile away. She just had too much fun today, walking with you in the park, grabbing breakfast, you even managed to catch a movie, and it was actually a good one! And to make things even better Tara couldn't keep her hand away from your own, constantly holding it as you went from one place to another.

And then the world just turned against her. She opened the doors and saw Sam expecting her with a stern look on her face, and arms crossed, sitting at the table in the kitchen.

She was in so much trouble.

“You were with her, weren't you?” well she couldn't exactly confess, so she would at least try to deny it. What were the chances that Sam had an actual proof Tara skipped classes with you?

“We were catching up on some lesson we missed, so classes got extended,” Tara lied a bit easier than she thought she would, but she figured the habits she picked up on while she was living with her mother were difficult to get rid of.

“Do not lie to me, Tara!” she flinched at Sam’s shout. “I went to pick you up and you weren't there. And when I asked your classmates if you even came to the classes, they told me neither of you showed up today!” Tara was caught pretty much red-handed and Sam knew it.

Tara sighed and sat down across the table. “You can't expect me to break up with her, Sam. I love her!” she was getting frustrated by Sam's behavior. Why couldn't her sister just let her go, just let her live her own life.

“Tara, you don't love her, you don't even know her properly! She could be dangerous,” this paranoia had to stop, because Sam saw everyone that tried to approach Tara as an enemy, as someone Tara needed protection from.

“Sam do you hear yourself?” Tara couldn’t deal with it anymore. “We are living with Quinn and she keeps bringing random guys to the apartment! Any one of them could be as psycho that just gets up one night and kills all three of us. You don't know those guys, yet you let Quinn bring them along!” Terra pointed out, exasperated by Sam not being able to see logic in her words, more importantly she was furious because Sam wouldn't trust her judgment.

She knew you. She had complete trust in you. And she got betrayed in a worse way than Sam did, after all while Richie was Sam’s boyfriend, Amber has been Tara’s friend for over a decade by that point.

“That isn't how Ghostface works and you know that,” Sam argued back. Ghostface this, Ghostface that. Tara was getting sick of it.

How could Sam not see it? “Ghostface isn't the only psycho, Sam! I can't live my life fearing that anyone I meet is going to turn out to be a psychotic killer. I want to live Sam, I fell in love and I want to enjoy that! I want to be with Y/N!” she desperately hoped Sam would just for once listen to her.

Yet Sam acted like a broken record. “We don't know her,” and Tara knew it wouldn’t matter how long you spent trying to get Sam’s trust. Sam would never know you ‘well enough’, Sam wouldn’t even try to get to know you.

“So what? I'm just supposed to fall in love with Chad? Because who else is left?” Tara demanded, but she might as well be talking in an entirely different language.

“This conversation is over, you’re grounded for a week,” Sam stood up and stormed into her room, leaving utterly flabbergasted Tara alone.

What a great way to spend the week off from classes.

~X~

Five days, that’s how long this torture’s been going on and Tara felt like she was about to lose her mind. And she was supposed to last an entire week?! The remaining two days felt like they would never end because each day seemed to drag out more than the previous one, even witconstant texting between the two of you. She turned in her bed for what felt like the hundredth time and her bed showed it. Messy twisted blanket, crumpled sheets, her head resting only on the corner of her pillow as she once again got on her back and stared at the ceiling. Sam was being unfair. Mindy had Anika, her and Sam were living with Quinn, who they didn’t know beforehand, and Tara was sure Sam had something going on with that Danny guy, and Chad was also occasionally flirting with girls! She was the only one who couldn’t have what she wanted.

Her phone buzzed and she immediately scrambled out of the blankets to take it. Curse her battery for needing to be charged! Tara quickly unlocked her phone and saw the message was from you.

Y/N: You need to see this!

Underneath it she saw the cutest Instagram reel of a puppy surrounded by ducklings.

Tara: 😍😍😍 They are so cute!

Your answer was immediate.

Y/N: Not as cute as certain someone, but it’ll have to do 😉

Tara fell back on her bed, a ridiculously wide smile already making its way to her face. Fuck, she missed you so much. ‘Yeah? Certain someone?’ she replied and her breath hitched when you sent her a selfie wearing a very soft looking shirt and grinning at her, and all of that could be manageable, if only Tara’s eyes didn’t immediately go to your lips and she realized it’s been way too long since she got to kiss you. She needed to feel your lips on her own, on her neck, on… fuck, what if you went lower. She bit her lower lip, studying your face, imagining your smiles, the way you looked at her.

Y/N: Tara? Baby? You’ve left me on seen for five minutes

That message temporarily snapped her out of her daydreaming. Or would it be nightdreaming? She never really thought of the logic behind the word. And she was desperately trying to ignore the desire gradually, scratch that, rapidly building inside of her.

Tara: I miss you

She finally replied and glanced back at your selfie as you typed the response.

Y/N: I kiss you too

Y/N (edited): I miss you too

Tara burst out laughing and quickly covered her mouth. ‘I saw it! Can’t take it back!’ she replied only to barely hold her laughter back when you just replied with ‘Shit.’ She smiled fondly, taking pity on you.

Tara: I want to kiss you too, so, so bad. I keep thinking about it and other things all the time

There, she confessed, knowing you were still prone to getting embarrassed and all shy about how affectionate Tara could get. Randomly kissing your cheek or hugging you when she knew you least expected was easily her favorite thing to do. The clear embarrassment on your face and the hitched breath, and especially the way you would freeze for a moment kept Tara entertained.

You had your own ways to mess with her, though she suspected you weren’t doing it on purpose. You would just go ahead and pull her chair out for her to sit, or bring her favorite coffee along when you would meet up and it was really messing her up to feel so cared for after years of neglect. It was yet another reason why she was so mad at Sam because she feared she wouldn’t be able to forgive her sister if Sam’s suspicious nature chased you away.

Y/N: Other things?

Hook, line, and sinker.

Tara opened her camera and switched to video. She winked at it and then turned it lower, to her waist, making sure to capture every detail as she unbuttoned her jeans and just brushed her fingers over the zipper, taunting you. She slowly panned the camera up her body while trailing the path with her hand. “Other things,” she was well aware of the sliver of her skin the camera caught when she pushed her shirt up. “Very specific things,” she whispered as seductively as she could, which, well, she didn’t have experience with seducing people, but she knew she’d get the desired effect with you as her hand brushing between her breasts moved the shirt in a way that emphasized her cleavage. And then she returned the camera to her face to show you she was lightly biting the corner of her lower lip.

She didn’t hesitate one moment before sending it.

You saw the message immediately, yet you didn’t respond, and Tara may have been stuck between getting nervous and completely confident in her charms. Minutes later she finally saw you typing.

Y/N: Tara

She could hear the exasperation in your message, yet she just sent ‘Yes, Baby? 🥺’

Y/N: Look at you acting all innocent

Yeah, she knew she was being rather mischievous. Even more so when she just replied with: ‘But I am all innocent’ she waited a moment, imagining you rolling your eyes and not immediately noticing the word play.

Tara: All innocent and inexperienced, just waiting for you to touch me

She put her phone under her shirt and took a photo, making sure there was just enough light to tease the details of her bra and sent it to you.

Your reply made her squeeze her thighs together. You sent her another photo, this time of you in front of a mirror, your hand covering the bulge in your pants and Tara caught herself wondering, and not for the first time, how big you were.

“Don’t tease me,” she sent you a voice message, whining as she cupped her breast, as her mind created the images of you taking her, fucking her. Instead of a message you actually called her and she resisted cursing because she was about to unzip her jeans and slip her hand inside. “Hey,” she whispered, trying to figure out if she could still do it.

“I’m teasing? Do you have any idea what you did to me?” your voice sounded strained an she knew you were in just as much of a dilemma as she was, only you seemed to be stronger than her, because if she didn’t do something about the lust she felt she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep.

“I know,” she admitted, biting back a moan as she slipped her hand into her jeans and teased her pussy over her panties. Fuck, she was already wet. “Y/N,” if only you were here with her, touching her, fucking her. “Are you hard?”

“What do you think?” you replied and she knew the answer. “I haven’t seen you in five days and the first thing you send me is that fucking video,” oh, you were cursing. She really got to you and you were definitely getting to her as she pushed her panties aside and slid her fingers through her wet folds.

“You started it,” Tara tried to defend herself.

“It was an innocent selfie!” you exclaimed just as she brushed the tip of her finger over her clit.

“Fuck, if we don’t stop neither of us will be innocent by tomorrow morning,” she moaned into the pillow, stuck between the urge to make herself cum and just sneak out and go to you.

“Shit, maybe we shouldn’t stop,” she could hear the faint sound of you stroking your cock and probably would have wondered if you could hear her too, but more importantly she made her decision.

“I’ll be there in ten,” she absolutely despised herself for pulling her hand out of her jeans and ending the call, but she would quickly get rid of that feeling, she just needed to get to you first.

~X~

You met in front of your apartment with Tara immediately jumping into your arms and kissing you, and you found yourself being pushed against the wall next to your doors as she deepened the kiss. “Fuck, finally,” she groaned, pressing her body against yours. “Y/N,” she moaned your name, and you felt her grinding against you, not even waiting to get inside.

The effort it took to actually slow down and take her to your bedroom should be studied, but you couldn’t let your first time be rough and quick. No, Tara deserved a lot more than that. “Easy, Tara, let’s just go inside,” you barely put your hand over your mouth to quiet the moan when she nibbled on your neck.

“I need you,” she whined, but allowed you to pull her into the apartment and toward the bedroom.

“I know, I know, I need you too,” you confessed, uncomfortably hard, and it only got worse when Tara pushed you onto the bed and straddled your lap. “But we can take as much time as we want, just take it slow and enjoy our first time instead of rushing through it.”

She felt it when she jumped into your arms, and now that she was straddling your lap. This was what she wanted for so long, yet now that she was looking at you the words you spoke echoed through her mind. Yeah, she would really enjoy that, just taking things slow for once. Slow and steady.

She leaned down, kissing you softly as she brushed her fingers over the fabric of your shirt, reaching up to your shoulders and squeezing lightly when you wrapped your arms around her. “You sure you’ll be able to hold back,” she asked when she pulled back, you were very hard after all.

You ran your fingers through her hair and looked her in the eyes. “I’m not holding anything back,” you promised and kissed her again. Your lips felt so soft, and Tara moaned, she truly missed this feeling. You slid your hand down to her neck and Tara let out a shuddering sigh as she lifted her head up and made it easier for you to kiss her neck. This was good, this was familiar. Making out with you always left her needy and this time wasn’t an exception as she felt the heat pooling in her core. “Y-Y/N,” she whimpered when you bit her neck slightly, just the way she liked it and Tara slowly began grinding on you. “Just like that,” she whispered as you dragged your tongue up her neck, soothing the burning skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” you were mesmerized by her, captivated by her beauty. Her breathy moans felt like the most beautiful melody ever created and you were the one causing them. You pulled her shirt up just enough to slip your hands underneath it. You felt the slight shiver of her body as she squirmed a bit at your touch.

“Your hands are a bit cold,” she giggled as your fingertips brushed along her sides. “Y/N, that tickles,” she smacked you slightly on the shoulder and saw the grin on your face. “Goofball,” she kissed you quickly.

“Sorry,” you muttered, only half-serious as Tara sat up and slowly, in the most tormenting, teasing way possible, took her shirt and bra off. “Fuck,” she looked gorgeous and there was no way your eyes weren’t giving your thoughts away because you couldn’t get them off her body.

Tara smiled at that, she’s shown you her scars before, so she wasn’t worried about your reaction, but this? She was definitely getting an ego boost from this reaction, and the way your cock twitched against her pussy. “You want me, Y/N? Take me,” she said it. “Do anything you want with me,” and in return she’d do anything she wanted with you and there were plenty of things she wanted, so many in fact she knew you couldn’t do it all tonight.

You cleared your throat and nodded as you sat up yourself and then flipped the two of you around so you were on top of Tara. You looked her in the eyes as you leaned down and, while cupping her breast, licked her already hard nipple. Tara took your own shirt and bra off and watched you as you sucked on her breast while she ran her fingers through your hair, encouraging you to keep going. Her other hand found your breasts and she brushed her thumb against your nipple.

Your tangled bodies moved together. Every touch of your hands left her skin burning, left her body more desperate for your touch, every single brush of your fingers drove her mad with desire. And she still didn’t take her jeans or panties off. Your hand went lower until your fingers tugged at her jeans, teasing her and making her moan. “Need you,” she whispered and felt you nodding as your unzipped her jeans and pulled them down.

“You’re soaking wet,” you grunted as you slowly rubbed her pussy over her panties. Tara dared to believe you could slip your cock inside her without any troubles with how wet she was if only you weren’t so big. You pulled your hand out of her jeans, making her immediately whine.

“Y/N, don’t tease me, please,” she begged, but luckily you just took a moment to take her jeans and panties off and strip the rest of your clothes as well.

“That’s your specialty,” you got back on top of her and pushed two fingers inside her pussy, and if she wasn’t as aroused as she was she would probably be embarrassed at how easily your fingers slipped in. Your fingers felt so good inside her as you continued kissing and caressing her body and Tara lay there, a moaning mess before your cock was even inside her. She reached down and wrapped her hand around your cock, there was precum leaking out of it as she rubbed the tip with her thumb. “Don’t, I won’t last if you do that,” you bit her shoulder a bit rougher than you intended. “I want to cum when I’m inside you,” you said while bringing her close to her orgasm.

“Me too then. Put it in me, I’m ready,” she spread her legs for you and kissed you as you blindly reached for the drawer next to your bed and grabbed the condom on top of it. If she didn’t quite literally tell you you would be having sex she would have teased you, but as it was she just wanted you to put it on and fuck her.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” you asked as you lined your cock up with the entrance to her pussy. And oh, she was ready, soaking wet, she probably wouldn’t even feel any pain. Tara nodded and kissed you once more as she hugged you tightly. She felt the tip of your cock sliding into her pussy and moaned, breaking the kiss and leaning her head back on your pillow.

“Y- Ah! Y/N!” she cried out your name, her fingertips digging into the back of your head, her back arching as you wrapped one arm around her and used the other to hold onto her hip.

“You’re taking me so well, Tara,” you whispered in her ear and finally, finally, she took all of you. She was close before, but now, feeling this full, she knew she was right on the edge.

You knew you couldn’t last for long like this. Tara’s warm, wet pussy engulfed you and you tried to focus on something else, to prolong this, but there was no way you could do that, so, you moved your hand from her hip to her clit and began rubbing as you slowly began thrusting into her, hoping you could get her to cum before you did. You would hold back until she cums, you promised that to yourself.

“I’m so close,” Tara moaned. “Look at me,” she pleaded, and you immediately complied as you looked into each other’s eyes, your bodies moving in the perfect sync as she began meeting your thrusts. Her orgasm kept building up, slow and steady, like your entire lovemaking was tonight, and with each thrust she could see you were getting close as well. “Y/N,” she moaned your name, no longer conscious of how much time you spent like that. She just knew that at one point she came, loud and hard, as your sweat covered bodies pressed together and she felt you cumming as well with a moan of your own.

She was absolutely spent. Satisfied with this being her first time. There would be other nights or days for longer lovemaking with multiple orgasms. In her head, and she truly hoped, in yours too, this was perfect.

Tara held onto you, feeling happier than she’s been in a long time. The blissful feeling consuming her entirely as you pulled your cock out and she glanced down at the filled condom. Maybe it was just her orgasm affecting her brain but she couldn’t help but think how one day, when you’re both ready, you’ll be cumming deep inside her. “Baby, Y/N,” she hummed as you caught your breath on top of her and she gently scratched the back of your head.

You lowered your head a bit and kissed her shoulder. “You were incredible,” you whispered, peppering her shoulder and the side of her neck with soft butterfly kisses. “Tara,” you whispered her name like it was your own, personal salvation. “I love you so much,” it wasn’t the first time you said those words, but it felt so good to hear them.

“I love you too, Y/N,” she tilted your chin up and kissed you on the lips, just as soft as everything tonight was. “I never thought sex would feel this good,” she admitted. There was no pain, no holding back, it consumed her entirely and all she could feel was your love for her as you took her innocence.

You chuckled. “Tell me about it,” you rolled onto your back and pulled Tara on top of you so you could rest while still holding her.

Tara had other ideas, turning both of you so you were lying on the side. “There, that’s better,” she whispered and leaned in, closing the distance between you. You would need to get up soon, clean up, take care of the mess you made, but she could bask in your warmth for a bit longer. Especially when you began rubbing her back, soothing her, keeping her feeling good. “I love how gentle and loving you were,” she whispered as she snuggled up to you, aware that, while she did absolutely enjoy the gentle sex she wasn’t opposed to getting a bit rougher sooner or later. She wanted to feel it all with you, to try everything and anything you were both comfortable with.

“It felt right,” you hummed, focusing on holding her and occasionally kissing wherever you could reach at the moment. While Tara showered you with love through words, you preferred touch, and it worked for both of you perfectly. Tara who was starved for touch, you who were starved for words of affirmation, I was a match made in heaven in her mind.

You stayed like that for some time, easily fifteen minutes, if not closer to twenty. Just cuddling and loving one another before you finally went to clean up, not leaving the shared shower until all the hot water had run out.

A/N: Well... Sam may have been a tiny bit over the top/out of character for the sake of the plot 🤣🤣

#perunrequests #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter #scream #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader #g!p reader #bottom tara carpenter #top reader

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f1boistrash · 5 months ago

Text

nowhere else i'd rather be | l.s

a/n: here is more of logan x verstappen!reader. i've also got another part in the works which i'm excited to start

summary: you comfort logan after the news broke that he wouldn't be racing in the australian grand prix

<- previous part

You were in the Red Bull garage when the news was announced. You had heard the rumors after Alex's crash in free practice one but you didn't think they would actually do it or at least you hoped they wouldn't. Williams had given Alex Logan's car for the rest of the weekend and you were angry.

You quietly left before anyone noticed, making your way to Logan's room for the weekend. No one batted an eye, too focused on getting the car ready for free practice two so you were able to sneak in. You found his room easily, the layout similar to Red Bulls garage, and knocked on the door. You heard some movement inside but no one came to open the door.

"Logan? It's me, Y/N." You tried again. You didn't want to just barge in but you also wanted to see him, to make sure he was okay. Well as okay as anyone can be in this situation.

"The doors open." You heard him mumble and you quickly slipped inside.

The sight before you broke your heart. Logan was sat on his couch, his head in his hands. He looked defeated. You sat down next to him, immediately wrapping your arms around him. It was like a dam broke inside as tears started falling. You held him tightly, your way of letting him know you weren't going anywhere. It took everything for you to not go in James' office and give him a piece of your mind for treating Logan like this.

It was a few minutes before Logan sat up, moving out of your arms. He brushed his hand over his face as if he was trying to hide the fact he was crying. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, too embarrassed to look at you.

"You don't need to apologize, Logan. What they did was shit. You have every right to be upset." You told him, placing your hand over his. "I don't ever wanna hear you apologize for your feelings, okay?"

"Thanks, Y/N." Logan thanked you, sending you what was probably the first genuine smile of the day. "You being here means a lot."

"There's no where else I'd rather be." You admitted, heat rising to your cheeks at your admission. Before you could hide, afraid you made the situation weird, Logan cupped your cheek and leaned forward. Neither of you had a chance to make a move before your phone went off, interrupting the moment. You cursed silently at your brother for choosing now to text you. "I should probably get going or Max will send out a search party."

"Yeah, I should probably show my face in the garage." Logan groaned. He didn't want to but knew he had to keep up appearances for the team.

"I'll text you later." You promised him as he walked you to the door. You hugged Logan goodbye and left but not before you bumped into Alex. "Hey Alex."

"Hey Y/N." He called after you. Alex then turned to Logan giving him a knowing smirk.

"We're just friends." Logan said, trying to convince himself more than anything because there was no way he could have a crush on a fellow drivers sister. Alex grinned at his teammate, not believing him one bit.

-x-

Logan was nervous. More nervous than he was before he got into his car on race days. He had no reason to though because you were just friends. That's what he kept telling himself, afraid of embarrassing himself in front of you. You had texted earlier that you were coming over to his hotel room, bringing food with you, and since then Logan was on edge. It felt like a date but you hadn't said anything to suggest it was.

A knock on the door broke him out of his thoughts. He opened the door and there you were, takeout bags in each hand and a grin on your face. It was enough for the nervousness Logan had to melt away. "I heard about this place from Oscar and he reckons its the best food in Melbourne. So if its bad we can just blame him." You said as you walked into his room. "And I know it may be breaking our diet but we can just do an extra lap of the track tomorrow." You rambled on, taking the boxes out of the bag. When Logan didn't say anything you looked up, seeing him softly smiling at you making you self conscious. "I'm overstepping, aren't I? I am so sorry. You probably want to be by yourself now after today. I'll leave you alone now."

"Please don't." Logan pleaded, interrupting your spiraling thoughts. He gently grabbed your hand to stop you from leaving his room. "I enjoy your company. In fact you're making this whole weekend bearable." Logan pulled you close, his nose brushing yours. "So please don't leave." He mumbled against your lips before kissing you. You melted into his kiss, forgetting any worries you had.

#logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #f1 imagine #f1

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walpu · 8 months ago

Note

walp

hear me out on this

Aventurine's bodyguard (reader), but they are used as leverage against Aven during the 2.1 Trailblaze Quest, if Aven tries to leave the Dreamscape or reveals anything of Sunday's scheme, Sunday murders Reader and makes it seem like a freak accident 😀😀

Sunday when I catch you Sunday

I liked this request the moment I saw it so I rushed to do it as soon as I got enough time to work on it 😭

you being used against Aventurine as his weak spot during the 2.1 trailblaze quest

notes - gn!reader, 2.1 spoilers, angst but nothing bad happens to you, hopeful at the end, sunday is most likely ooc since it's written before 2.2, no beta

Sunday doesn't make a direct threat. It's a very subtle hint, a small warning. Yet it's obvious enough for Aventurine to understand the meaning behind Sunday's words immediately. How can he not when it concerns you?

There's a visible anger on his face when he glares at Sunday.

"You wouldn't dare, you wing-headed bastard. Do you think the IPC is stupid enough to believe that the death of my personal bodyguard tgat accompany me everywhere is a coincidence? Do you think I'll let it slide?!"

Oh, he's seething. Such raw emotions, such obvious worry, such obvious fear. Sunday knew he would get him good but that? Truly intriguing.

But how can he not feel that way? How can he play it cool, cover his fear and shield himself with short on-line answers?

This time he can't hide how much his hands are shaking.

Sunday is quick to remind Aventurine that in his current pitiful state, 17 hours to live and all, he hardly can do anything.

He also graciously reminds Aven that nothing will happen to you as long as he does his part.

Aventurine is such a mess after that conversation. Ratio tries to calm him down a bit by rationalizing the situation. Surely Sunday is bluffing. The Family, no matter how questionable they seem, are not murderers. Plus, surely Aventurine knows his own bodyguard well enough to know that you're not easy to kill. Many has tried and yet here you are, still alive and well.

But how can Aventurine just brush it off when it's you who may be in danger?

That what he was afraid of the whole time. That he'll lose you like he has lost everyone else. That your blood will be on his hands.

He asks Ratio to look after you and to escort you to safety if something happens. The promise doesn't calm him down but Ratio is a reliable and smart person. So he chooses to trust him, no matter how hard it is. After all, Aven doesn't have much choice.

When the two of you reunite, you can immediately see that he's shaken. He tries to hide his pitiful state from you, not wanting you to know that his time is running out. He wants to warn you instead, to tell you that you may be in danger. But he knows you won't take it seriously and instead would insist on taking care of him and protecting him.

He comes up with some lies (aeons, he hates lying to you of all people) and asks you to start your own investigation. To go back to the real world and to team up with Topaz and Jade.

It takes some time to convince you but eventually you reluctantly agree. He sees how much you hate leaving him like this and it's both heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.

Aven is an even bigger mess now than he was in the game. He tries to tell himself that you're okay, that Ratio will accompany you to the real world and Topaz will look after you once you're there.

But how can he be sure? How? His "future" self asks him this mockingly, pointing out that you're smart, that you'll immediately understand that he has deliberately sent you away to keep you from something.

No matter how msny times he tells this "future self" to shut up, he knows he's right. So he can only pray that he'll be able to deal with the Family before you get yourself in danger.

Image you showing up during the final act just to see him threatening to detonate the Stellaron. Him trying to continue the "show" despite the ache in his heart. You, knowing he's bluffing but being unable to stop this insanity.

After the events of 2.1, he seeks you out as soon as he returns to the real world. He needs to know that you're alive, that you're safe. Even if you're angry with him now, even if you may not forgive him (of course you will he's just insecure like that), he needs to know you're fine.

So imagine his relief when you (safe, unarmed, alive) embrace him and hold him tightly, so overwhelmingly happy he's back.

image his reaction to finding out that you're alive and well and sunday has presumably kicked the bucket 💀

#hsr #honkai star rail #reader insert #aventurine #walp's writing #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine

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surielstea · 6 months ago

Text

Lunch Break

Based on this request.

Pairing: Modern!Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel surprises reader at work with food and a clingy attitude.

Warnings: Az being handsy with reader | cursing

2.5k words

I was in the middle of scheduling a meeting on my boss's calendar when the loud ringing of the phone made me jump.

I quickly picked up the phone and tucked it beneath my ear then continued my typing before I lost my train of thought.

“Velaris enterprises, how can I assist you?” I say with a polite tone.

“It’s Feyre, can you tell Rhys to pick up his phone?” A familiar female voice sounds on the other side of the line. A smile curves my lips.

“Hi Fey, I’ll transfer you to him right now,” I say to the woman with a light tone.

“Thank you,” She sings as I redirect the call to my boss who seemed too busy to pick up his wife’s call.

The line ends and I hang up the phone and then return my attention to my desktop, I had only one more report due until I was letting myself take my lunch break, reclining in my chair with a huff as I continue to type, manicured nails clicking along the keys at a fast pace. In the middle of my sentence, the phone rings again and I pick it up blindly, keeping my eyes on my screen.

“Feyre I could knock down his door but I doubt he’ll answer—” I begin but I am cut off by the other line.

“It’s me.” Is all I heard and my spine straightened at the baritone voice that was so very familiar.

“What’d I tell you about calling my work phone?” I say slightly hushed, afraid my coworkers will notice me being off task.

“You weren’t answering your texts,” He defends, his tone playful, making me suppress a smile.

“What’s so important you couldn’t wait until my break?” I ask, the amused tone in my voice unavoidable as I mindlessly doodle on a blank sticky note, unable to multitask when talking to him.

“I brought you lunch, come downstairs,” He replied and a smile tugged at my lips.

“Right now?” I mumble into the phone with a soft sigh.

“Yeah, c’mon gorgeous it’s going to get cold,” He urged and this time I let myself smile.

“Alright, I’ll be down in five just need to finish something up real quick,” I say, and before he can protest I hang the phone up.

I rush to finish my report, doing it in three minutes instead of five, and feeling slightly accomplished with myself as I close the tab.

I stand from my chair, brush my short skirt down, and round my desk to approach the door to my Boss’s office. I knock lightly before creaking open the door, only to spot Rhysand on the phone with his wife presumably, feet propped up on his desk casually as he did anything but work.

“I’m taking my break,” I whisper and he nods, giving me a wave of my hand. I close his office door and pivot in my high heel.

I walk down the aisle of cubicles with a small skip in my step, excited to see my boyfriend, and also the food he brought for me.

“Taking your break already?” A man named Matthew had asked, leaning back in his chair and peering up at me.

“Yeah, I didn’t get the chance to eat anything this morning,” I reply politely, passing by him.

“You should come out with me and some of the other guys after work tonight, we’re going to the bar off Ninth Street,” He gestures westward and my brows raise a fraction.

“Sounds fun, I might have plans but I’ll let you know,” I say with a gentle smile and he nods, then turns back to his desk.

“Have a nice lunch,” He lowly whistles as I continue my path toward the elevators.

Mathew and his friends had always been so kind to me, I hadn’t really known why, they knew I was with Azriel, which meant they knew they had no chance. And they didn’t seem like the type to respect women, especially not secretaries. So it was best to let them down easy and politely decline their offers or at least give them false hope.

I clicked the button of the lift that would take me down to the lobby, the ride was long from the top floor, giving me the chance to wonder what kind of foot Azriel had brought for me since he hadn’t mentioned it.

I bounced on my heels impatiently until the elevator dinged and the doors parted. I smile and walk out, tucking my arms behind my back to contain my excitement. Gods, I felt like a teenage girl meeting her first boyfriend in the hallway.

“Hi, Mrs. Levvy,” I wave to the older woman who sat at the check-in desk in the building.

“Leaving, dearie?” She asks with a soft smile that I return.

“I’ll be back, just going to pick up lunch,” I say and she nods, pushing her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose.

The automatic doors open and I immediately spot my boyfriend leaning against his black bike, arms crossed over his chest as the sun beams down onto him. His eyes lock with mine and a dimpled smile takes over his features as I approach him, taking in the way his compression shirt hugs his large arms or the way his tattoos run up the side of his neck.

“Hey, gorgeous,” He greets, hands coming to my waist as I stand between his legs.

“Hi, handsome,” I return, wrapping my arms around the nape of his neck and pressing a soft peck to his lips then pulling away a moment later. “What’d you bring me?” I ask, pinching my bottom lip between my teeth. He turned to his side, his helmet and a paper bag propped onto the seat of his bike. He grabs the bag and hands it to me. I peer inside and am immediately met with a familiar savory scent. I look up at him with a beaming grin. “My favorite?” I ask and he nods.

“For my favorite girl,” He hums, hands lowering to my hips.

“Thanks, Az,” I sling my arms around him and hug him tightly. He returns it, his head nuzzling into the crook of my neck. He stays like that, not wanting to move away until inevitably I pull back.

“What’s the occasion?” I say, placing the bag beside his helmet, I still had ten minutes left to my break, and I was determined to spend every last second with him.

He shrugs. “I didn’t get to make you breakfast before you left this morning,” He said and I smiled at the memory, how he sleepily clambered from bed only to coerce me back to the mattress with his deep voice and lazy kisses. It hadn’t lasted long before my alarm went off for the umpteenth time and we both knew I had to leave if I didn’t want to be late.

“That’s sweet of you to leave work for me,” I smile down at the bag and then back up to him, one of my hands intertwining into his hair.

“The shop was slow today, I only had a few appointments until I decided to close early,” He excuses and I tilt my head up at him.

“Still, means a whole lot,” I murmur, leaning into his chest as his hands snake down until finding purchase at the curve of my ass. “Az,” I warn.

“What? This skirt is so short and I’m only a man,” He defends and I roll my eyes.

“Keep it in your pants,” I scoff.

“Afraid I can’t, gorgeous,” He shakes his head. “What about all the other men in that office? They shouldn’t be staring at what’s mine,” He practically whines and I look at him in both disbelief and amusement.

“I assure you, they know I’m yours,” I put him at ease, my hands coming to his jaw.

“Now you know how I feel when you wear these slutty shirts,” I say, tugging at the hem of his compression shirt. He smiles because he knows exactly what I’m talking about. The bastard was highly aware of what he was doing to me.

“Guilty,” He smirks, his hands gripping my ass and I squeal, an uncontrollable grin coming to my features, I was going to retort only to be cut off by the alarm from my phone, that familiar ringing that only meant separation for us. Azriel audibly groans as I quickly silence my alarm, my smile fading away.

“I’m sorry, babe I’ll see you at home okay?” I say and he pulls me impossibly closer, stuffing his face back into my neck.

“Don’t go,” He practically whines and I run my hand through his hair reassuringly.

“You know I’d stay if I could,” I sigh and he tears from my neck in favor of looking me in the eyes.

“Come back home, I’ll take the rest of the day off and we could spend it together,” He pleads, the male awfully clingy despite his usual cold demeanor.

“Az, I can’t my boss—” I start.

“Who? Rhys?” He cuts me off and I frown up at him, then give him a dip of my head as a nod.

“Let me talk to him,” He urges. “I promise you’ll get the rest of the day, paid,” He says and I look at him pointedly, not believing him one bit.

“And how are you going to do that?” I retort.

“He owes me,” He shrugs.

“For what—” I start but he grabs my hand and pulls me towards the entrance of the building.

“C’mon, I want to be home already,” He says as I intertwine our hands.

Mrs. Levvy looks up through her glasses at the two of us with an arched brow. “You can sign her out, she’ll be leaving soon,” Azriel says, dragging me towards the elevators. I apologize for his behavior as the doors close on me but she only waves me off with a chuckle.

“Why are you so needy today?” I say, poking his abdomen as the lift takes us to the top floor.

“Can’t help it when you’re dressed like this,” He replies, arms slinging over my shoulders and hugging me from behind.

“So possessive,” I murmur as the doors slide open and I leave his grasp. I walk down the line of cubicles, heads turning as Azriel walks behind me with his hands stuffed into his pockets casually. “I’ll tell him you’re here,” I whisper in the quiet office, dialing on the phone but when I glance up at the brunette I spot him opening the door to Rhysand’s office. Panic rises in my chest and I pale, rushing to stop him.

I enter the room and wedge between Azriel’s frame and the door. Rhys looks at me expectantly. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know what he’s thinking,” I smack my hand against my boyfriend’s chest before gesturing him out of the office. My boss only chuckled.

“Relax, if you think this is the first time Azriel’s barged in on me you’re sorely mistaken,” Rhys says with a coy smile.

“Gather your things, baby,” Azriel says with an outmatched confidence. I stare up at him in bewilderment and he only jerks his head as a gesture to my desk and I glare in warning, silently telling him that I’ll kill him if he gets me fired.

Reluctantly, I leave the office and go back to my desk, the door closing behind me. Anticipation rolls into a mass of anxiety. To distract myself I do as Azriel said, collecting my items and putting them into my purse, slinging it over my shoulder, and by the time I was ready to leave Az had exited the office with a soft smile on his lips.

I look at him expectantly. “You ready?” He asks and my jaw nearly drops.

“Wait, how did you?” I say with creased brows, looking at the closed office door and then at him quizzically. He shrugs innocently.

“When you’ve known someone since you were eight years old it’s easy to convince them,” He explains and I narrow my eyes on him.

“You blackmailed him, didn’t you?” I accuse and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“I did, yeah,” He grabs my hand and guides me back towards the elevators.

I smiled up at him amused, before halting in my steps when I heard my name called.

I look to the culprit, spotting Mathew with raised brows. “I assume you found plans?” The man asked and I feigned a frown.

“I did, I’m sorry maybe next time,” I tilt my head sympathetically, the way one might pity an animal. My boyfriend’s hands snake around my waist protectively and I nearly roll my eyes at his theatrics.

“Maybe,” Azriel restates, emphasizing the low chance of it.

“Right, next time,” Mathew nods, and the male behind me tugs at my waist, urging me along.

“Have a good rest of your day, Mat.” I give him a small wave.

“You too,” He nods and I pivot on my heel, Azriel glaring daggers at anyone who stared for a moment too long.

Once we were back in the elevator, alone, he dropped the menacing act in favor of his original clingy one. “So are you going to tell me what you blackmailed Rhys with?” I tease and his brows raise.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous, but there are some things I can’t speak of, even to you,” He sighs and I giggle, knowing it must be bad if he didn’t have it in himself to tell me. I dropped it, knowing I wouldn’t be able to get it out of him if I tried.

The doors opened and we both exited. “I need to sign out,” I say to Mrs. Levvy, approaching her desk. She waves her hand dismissively.

“I already did, dearie,” She says and my brows raise, looking to Azriel who only had a cocky smile on his face.

“Then have a good rest of your day I suppose,” I say, backing away towards the doors.

“You have fun you two,” She waves and I return it before Azriel has me outside.

When we get back to his bike he opens the hatch at the front, the compartment holding my helmet. He hands me the light pink item and I smile, putting the helmet over my head and securing it tightly, flicking down the visor.

“You’re so cute,” He admires.

“Shut up,” I say, my words muffled through the helmet and mount the bike.

“You’re not driving,” He looks at me pointedly and I grasp the handles, looking up at him cheekily.

“Why not?” I arch my back playfully and his eyes trace down the crescent shape of my body, then back to my covered eyes.

“No,” He declares before grabbing my waist and taking me off the bike, placing me back onto my feet as I pout up at him. He straddles the bike and puts his helmet on. I huff and get on behind him, my arms wrapping around his torso reflexively. “Ready, gorgeous?” He turns his head to look back at me.

I nod, pressing the side of my helmet to his back, squeezing around him tightly, beyond excited to be going home for the rest of the day instead of heading back to work.

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bunni-v1 · 1 year ago

Note

hii,

Can i request che‘nya, neige and rollo finding out you‘re a girl please?

(Just if u weite for em)

Freaking love ur serie 😍

Side Characters Find Out You’re A Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

TW: Rollo

Info: Che’nya, Niege, and Rollo x Reader

🍓Thank you! I'm glad people enjoyed this series so much, it was very fun to write. This is the last part I'm afraid, but I hope it is a fitting goodbye to what has been a very long-running series now lol. Excited to move on to other things!

Tags: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck @squidsailing

Che’nya

-Oooooo, Che’nya knows something is up the moment he (creepily) stalks you and the others from the garden.

-His sniffer isn’t as good as Leona’s — he’s just a tomcat, after all — but he can smell that something about you isn’t right.

-Plus, he’s a master of bending the truth, he can see through your lie a mile away.

-Still, he has no reason to bother you about it — he doesn’t even know you.

-He just thinks you’re a little funny that you’d hide something as pointless as this.

-Doesn’t really have confirmation on it until he asks Cater at the tea party.

-Then he later asks Trey who is like ‘Yeahhhhh…’

-Again, he doesn’t really know you, but he does think you’re cute and stuff.

-He sees your around when he sneaks on campus, and he was happy to bump into you at the VDC.

-(He scored your number there, lets go Che’nya).

-Nah, you two don’t really get to interact until Noble Bell College.

-He’s excited to see you again, and really chats you up this time (everyone there thinks its weird, he literally has no reason to talk to you).

-You’re alone with him and Niege and Grim when he drops the bombshell of “A pretty girl like you should be wearing a dress, right?”

-You don’t know if Trey or Cater or even Riddle told him, but you were gonna deck them across the face the second you found out.

-Still, despite him outing you to Niege, he’s really only mildly annoying about it.

-He teases you and picks on you about it, but he’s more like an annoying older brother than a creep.

-He will hang it over your head though, because they way you get all huffy is funny and cute to him.

Neige

-Other than Che’nya— Neige really doesn’t suspect much.

-I mean, look at him and Vil. Feminine men is not his biggest concern.

-He respects you and your pronouns and he’s a real big sweetheart.

-He is… drawn to you, just a little.

-You’re different from the other students, and you managed to make friend with Vil, so excuse him for being a little curious.

-Despie Vil being vehemently against it, you and him exchange numbers and start talking casually.

-It’s pretty normal stuff, and it’s not like you’re talking every day, but you consider each other friends at the very least.

-You’re both very excited to see each other again at Nobel Bell College.

-Neige feels bad that you’re sort of forced to go and babysit, but he gets to see you again!

-You bump into him and Che’nya at the fesitval, and Neige is… notably weirded out by Che’nya’s overt friendliness with you.

-“He’s never this nice with people he doesn’t know — never. It’s so weird.” He tells you.

-You brush off his concerns, and you live to pay for it too.

-You and Neige were just chilling, talking, and hanging out for the first time in person and Che’nya walked over and joined the conversation.

-All is good until he drops the one-liner of a century, leaving both you and Neige in shock.

-You because how did he find out, Neige because oh my god you’re a woman.

-He feels even WORSE for you now.

-I mean, being the only woman at NRC has gotta be awful.

-He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, bless his soul.

-He just shrugs it off and also offers his room as sanctuary on the weekends if you need it.

-He does agree with Che’nya, though, you would look very pretty in a nice flowing ballgown!

Rollo

-Bless this little freaks soul. He is about as sheltered as Malleus and about ten times more evil.

-He, somehow, knows something about you is different from the get-go. Not just your inability for magic, no something more.

-Naturally, he is drawn to you, and evermore curious about you and your life at NRC.

-He, being observant, takes note that you are treated slightly differently by your fellow classmates.

-They are generally more respectful and courteous toward you — gentlemanly in some cases.

-It only makes his interest in you grow. What is it that is so special about you?

-Then he overhears a conversation with Niege and Che’nya, and it all makes so much sense!

-You are a woman, of course you are. No wonder you were so captivating.

-Rollo holds this card close to his chest — he needs not reveal his secrets.

-Malleus is fond of you — as are the other magicians here. That could be useful.

-This information could aid him in his ultimate plan — and he could be your savior from the beasts you live amongst.

-He reveals that he knows your gender in front of everyone at the festival, and takes you captive as his own.

-He is so diluted in thinking that he is your saving grace, and that what he is doing is so right and justified that he can’t hear you curing him out over his own thoughts.

-Obviously, you get saved by your friends and all is well, but now a whole lot of people who shouldn’t know you are a woman do, and Crowley has to do a LOT of PR work lol.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁#che'nya x reader #che'nya twst #rollo flamm #rollo flamme x reader #neige leblanche #neige x reader

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pedroscurls · 14 days ago

Text

in every lifetime (pt. 5)

summary: you invite logan back up to your apartment to dry off and he ends up spending the night... the beginning of something new for the both of you. pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader tags / warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), smut (18+, mdni) - missionary, unprotected p in v, no use of y/n, logan finally gets a happy ending that he deserves. word count: 3.3k a/n: i'm so sorry for the delay... part of me didn't want to write it because it means that this story is complete, but thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's read this story, who's left comments, and liked it! this story holds a special place to my heart and the first ever logan fic i've ever written so it means a lot. i hope you all enjoyed this story as much as i did writing it. also - i know the song is so 90s, but i just kept imagining the reader and logan having a very sensual night while this song is playing... anyway, enjoy the last and final part! 💛💙 song: i knew i loved you by savage garden prev. part

Finally.

Logan practically melts into you, arms snaking around your frame so gently. Your grip around him tightens and he can feel your tears trickle down your cheeks, meeting your joined lips. It’s a gentle kiss, soft and slow, and there’s an unspoken fear; you’re both afraid that this is just a fleeting moment, that one of you is going to pull away and realize that this isn’t what you want after all. That the fear and pain of losing each other in your own universes are just too much to bear.

But when you both do decide to pull away, rain pattering down on the both of you, the look on each other’s face is one of relief.

“Hey bub,” Logan whispers, lips gently brushing against yours.

You stare up at him, the look of complete vulnerability in his expression. He’s no longer hiding from you– the walls that he surrounded himself long gone as he stares at you. This Logan won’t ever be the same as the one you lost, but the one standing in front of you gives you hope for a future that you only ever dreamed of having with him. You’re sure that in every universe out there, your love for Logan is just as strong as the one in this universe.

“Spend the night?” you ask quietly, hesitantly.

“Are you– Are you sure?” Logan knows what you’re implying and despite the subtle excitement that flickers in his eyes, he knows that he doesn’t want to push this… doesn’t want to push you.

And just like in his universe, you catch on to his hesitation. Can see the look of uncertainty in his eyes. You can see him thinking. Gently, you bring a hand up to his cheek, brushing the pad of your thumb across it before you lift it further to stroke his wet hair back and away from his face.

“I’m sure.”

“But Laura–”

“Not home tonight.”

Logan lets out a shaky breath. He’s been alive for almost two hundred years and here you are, making him nervous. “Okay, bub. I’ll spend the night.”

You catch him by surprise by leaning up to press your lips against his that he almost stumbles back, but his arms tighten around you further and he leans back in and purses his lips against yours. Slowly, you move your lips with his and Logan can feel the excitement begin to build in the pit of his stomach.

“We should head inside,” he mumbles into the kiss, pulling away briefly to rest his forehead against yours. “I don’t want you getting sick. We’ve been standing in the cold rain…”

You nod and then release your hold on him to bring him back inside your apartment. Once inside, you shut the door and lock it behind you. Standing in the hallway, you’re both dripping wet and you walk towards your thermostat to turn up the heat.

“I’ve got some old clothes of Logan’s if you don’t mind,” you say quietly, biting your lower lip. “Is that weird?”

Logan shakes his head. He walks over to you, the sound of his wet boots making quiet squeaky sounds against your hardwood floors. “I don’t mind, but…” he begins. “Will you?”

You shrug your shoulders. You don’t know how you’d react to seeing your Logan’s clothes on some other version of him. “Only one way to find out, right?”

“I just…” Logan sighs. “I want you to be comfortable and I don’t mind taking this slow, baby.”

Baby.

You shut your eyes and wrap your arms around him, face burying into his chest. You let out a shaky breath and feel his arms wrap around you, enveloping you in his warm embrace. Logan had always been your personal heater, his body always running hot, and this version is no different.

Logan places a soft kiss on the crown of your head and slowly pulls away to look down at you. “We should really get you out of these wet clothes.”

“We both should get out of these wet clothes. Come on.” You lead him further down the hallway and into your bedroom, leaving a wet trail on your floors. Once inside, Logan bends down to remove his boots and socks, setting it near the door as he catches you lifting the end of your crewneck over your head. He sees a sliver of your skin and immediately peels his gaze away from you, turning around to face the wall.

“Logan, what are you doing?” you let out a quiet giggle and it takes everything in him not to just turn around. The sound of your laughter had always made him feel so happy, especially when he was the one making you laugh. “You can turn around. It’s okay.”

Clearing his throat, he turns around and looks at you. You’re now standing in just a towel, a pool of your wet clothes around your ankles. But the sight of your smile makes his heart skip a beat. The way it meets your eyes, a flicker of contentment in your features… and it’s all because of him.

“I’m going to rinse off,” you tell him. “I’ll go and use Laura’s bathroom down the hall. You can use mine.” You walk towards your closet and grab a few change of clothes, in addition to an extra towel. You bite your lower lip, keeping one hand to hold the towel up against your body. You hand him the clothes and towel, leaning up to gently peck his lips. “Then I’ll grab our wet clothes and put it in the washer.”

As you’re walking away and out of your bedroom, Logan gently reaches out for your free hand. He turns you around and pulls you against him, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. He growls against you– the fact that you’re only using a towel to cover yourself causes an excitement to rush over him.

Logan feels your lips move against his, urging him to continue the kiss. He releases his hold on your hand and instead moves his hand to your lower back. For a brief moment, you move your own hands to his wet hair, having long forgotten the towel that you’re holding up as it slips.

“Bub,” Logan whispers, slowly pulling away as he feels you gently bite down on his lower lip. He growls at that and then glances down to see just enough of your bare front before you wrap the towel back around yourself. He clears his throat and feels his length stir beneath his jeans – it’s uncomfortable and tight, especially since he’s completely soaked from the rain.

“I’m going,” you reply quietly. “I’m going.” You turn around and walk out of your bedroom, glancing over your shoulder to catch his gaze and you smile. “You should get going too, baby.”

Baby.

Logan grins at that and nods, turning on his heel and walking to your bathroom.

—

By the time you're showering, you’re dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized white t-shirt that reach your mid-thighs. You’re in the laundry room, putting yours and Logan’s clothes in the washer when you feel his strong arms wrap around you from behind.

You shut your eyes and lean back against his chest, hands coming down to rest over his. You tilt your head upwards and feel his lips brush against the side of your neck, the feel of his facial hair tickling you. You let out a quiet giggle and Logan smiles against you, holding you firmly against him. The tension in the air thickens and you open your eyes to press the start button on the washer. Once the machine starts, Logan turns you around and stares deeply into your eyes.

Your gaze lowers to see what he’s wearing, biting your lower lip. He’s wearing only a pair of boxers and he’s shirtless. Of fucking course. Your eyes deviate even further as you gently reach out to touch the muscles at his abdomen and move them up his strong chest and to his shoulders.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” you answer, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise as you obviously ogle him.

“Do you– Are you–” you clear your throat. “Sorry. Are you thirsty? Do you want water?”

Logan shakes his head. “Just want you, bub.”

You nod and then take his hand, leading him back to your bedroom. You’ve already cleaned up the wet mess you both left and your entire apartment is warm enough that you’ve already turned the heater off, but the tension makes you feel hotter than normal. Logan’s touch sends an electrifying shock through your body and once inside, you’re about to push on his chest to have him sit on the bed but he catches you by surprise when he scoops you into his arms and gently lays you down on your bed.

He climbs in after you and gets underneath the sheets with you, instantly pulling you into his arms. Logan can feel the tension in the air, can practically smell your arousal, but he makes no comment. He wants you to set the pace, wants you to decide what you want, wants you to choose what to do next.

You turn on your side and rest your head on his shoulder, moving a hand to rest on his bare chest. “Logan, I–” you stop yourself, biting your lower lip.

He turns to look down at you, hand cupping your cheek. He had always been so gentle with you. Those same hands had caused so much pain, so much hurt, but with you… Logan’s always been a different man. You had awoken something inside of him that he never knew existed and when he lost you in his universe, that part of him died with you.

But getting the chance to be with you again, even if it’s a different version of you, makes him hopeful for the future. Makes him hopeful that he can finally be happy. With you. Always with you.

“I’m here,” he whispers. “I’m here.”

You let a small smile line your lips and you turn to lie on your back, bringing him to hover above you. Logan rests his hands at either side of your head, settling himself between your legs as he looks down at you. He can hear the quiet pitter patter of the rain hit your window, the small lamp on your nightstands providing just the right amount of light to illuminate you. Your hair splays against your pillow and you’re looking up at him with the same look you always had. Even in his universe.

In your eyes, he can do no wrong.

In your eyes, you see someone more than just the wolverine.

In your eyes, you see someone worth loving.

“I promise,” Logan whispers quietly. “I promise I’m going to always keep you safe, no matter what.”

“I know, Logan,” you say softly. “You have a good heart. Always have.”

Tears sting his eyes and he leans down to peck your lips, careful not to crush you. “I don’t deserve you…”

“Yes, you do,” you reply. Your hands move to his arms, fingertips brushing against the chiseled muscles. “Everyone deserves to be happy, to be loved… Even you, Logan. Especially you.”

Logan feels his heart swell at your words, can feel the emotion taking over him as he remembers his dream earlier that night. His world’s version of you had said the same thing and while he isn’t even sure it was ever real, hearing those words come from you makes his heart race.

He doesn’t know what he ever did in his life to ever deserve someone like you because he’s sure that he doesn’t deserve it.

But you… The way you’re looking at him makes him feel worthy of this happiness, of your love.

“After everything you’ve been through, why?” Logan asks honestly. “Why do you still have such a positive outlook on life? On this life?”

You bite your lower lip and move your hands to run through his hair, seeing his eyes flutter shut as he purrs quietly. “It’s not easy,” you admit. “There are days where I can’t wait for it all to end… but Laura still needs me. There are people out there who still need me…” you move one hand to wipe at your eyes, feeling tears begin to fall from your face again. “And because I promised him.”

“You’ve always been the strongest,” Logan whispers, placing a light kiss on your forehead. “The bravest,” another kiss on the tip of your nose. “And the kindest person I’ve ever met,” he finishes, leaning in to press his lips firmly against yours.

You gasp against his lips and instantly move your lips with his own. The kiss deepens further, ignited by passion and a sudden sense of urgency. One of Logan’s hands remains on the mattress, keeping himself propped up as the other moves down to your side and leg, hooking it around his hip as he presses his lower half firmly against yours.

You feel his hand move up and down the side of your bare leg, causing shivers to run through your body as you slowly roll your hips upwards to create some friction… Until you feel his hardened length press against your throbbing heat.

It has been way too long and your panties are already soaked at the realization of what’s about to happen next. Logan pulls away from your lips to press firm kisses along your jawline and down the side of your neck, teeth darting out to graze your skin. His low growl against you reverberates through his entire being and he pulls away from you briefly to look down at you.

You’re breathing heavily, eyes darkened with desire, but you’re still looking at him like he’s the only man that ever mattered.

“Is this okay?” he asks. “I don’t want to do something you’re going to regret and I’m fine if nothing happens, but I just– I needed to ask before this goes any further.”

You bite your lower lip. “In your universe, were you a gentleman?” you tease. “I just assumed all versions of you liked to be in control and–”

Logan growls again and moves his hand underneath your shirt, finding his way to your bare breast as he runs his thumb across your peaked nipple. “Should have known,” he grins. “Once a smartass, always a smartass.”

You whimper quietly, letting out a quiet laugh that only excites Logan even further. “You like it.”

“Oh, baby, I always have.”

Then, he leans down again and presses his lips more firmly against yours. His hand kneads your breast into the pit of his palm and he can hear you whimper against his lips, can feel your body begin to squirm, can smell your arousal even more prominently now.

“Logan,” you moan quietly, pulling away from the kiss. “Yes, I want this. I want you.”

It was all Logan needed to grip your shirt in two hands, ripping it open. You gasp loudly, your front now fully exposed for him. He looks down at you and clears his throat as he leans down to wrap his lips around your nipple, flicking his tongue repeatedly against you.

He feels your hands move down to the waistband of the boxers, urging it down his legs and he pulls back to lean on his knees. He gently takes your hands and kisses your knuckles before he pushes down his boxers past his legs, slowly kicking them off to the side as he looks down at himself.

Extremely hard. Leaking. Throbbing.

Logan needs you.

He sees your eyes gaze down at him and sees the way you bite your lower lip at the sight. Then, you reach down to hook your thumbs into your panties as you begin to lower it down your legs. Logan helps you, pulling them away from you as your arousal now hits his senses at full force. He looks down between your legs, reaching down to run the length of his finger across your sex and sees your wetness glisten across his digit.

You whimper and lift your hips, yearning for more as you try to reach down to wrap your own hand around his length. Logan stops you and hovers above you, forearm propped near your head as his other hand reaches down to grasp his manhood. He runs the tip across the length of your sex before he slowly slides into you.

You’ve always been tight, but always felt like you were made for him. Your walls stretch to give way to him as he slowly continues to slide further into your depths. Your hands move to his shoulders, fingertips digging into his skin and he groans at the sensation. He feels your legs tighten around his hips, the heel of your feet digging into his lower back to urge him to push further into you.

“Logan,” you moan, feeling his free hand cup your cheek as his eyes remain open to stare down at you. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, hands now linking at the nape of his neck as Logan’s hands move to either side of you when he fully slides into the hilt. He groans, dipping his head to rest his forehead against yours as he stares into your eyes.

You let out a loud groan at the feel of his manhood filling you completely as your walls slowly give way to his girth. Slowly, Logan rolls his hips and pulls back enough before he pushes back into you. He leans in and press his lips against yours, his hips continuing its slow and deep strokes as your walls remain tight around his length.

You whimper against his lips, mouth widening at the sensation of his deep thrusts. You know you won’t be able to last long, the feeling of his manhood sliding along your walls, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust in, and the hair at his base brushing against your clit all bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Logan lowers himself enough so that his chest rests against yours as his arms wrap around your waist. He slowly picks up the pace, his skin beginning to slap against yours as it echoes off the walls of your bedroom and mixes in with the sounds of your moans and the rain from outside.

When he feels your body begin to tremble, your walls begin to tighten even further around him, Logan quickens his thrusts. You’re both panting heavily, foreheads resting against each other, bodies pressed firmly against one another. It’s so passionate, so intense, so long overdue.

“Logan!” you exclaim, arms tightening around his shoulders as you hold onto him when you reach your high. Logan delivers a few more thrusts before he releases inside of you, growling lowly against you. Usually, Logan likes to make sure you come at least two or three times before he comes, but he couldn’t help himself.

He needed you.

Just as badly as you needed him.

—

Afterwards, Logan helps you clean yourself up, using a wet and warm towel to wipe his sticky release from between your legs. He pulls you into his arms after setting the towel aside, feeling you snuggle into his chest. He looks down at you, your eyes falling shut as you drape an arm around him as well.

He lets out a sigh of relief and brings a hand to gently brush your hair away from your face. He leans down and presses a soft kiss on your forehead, hand lower to rest on your lower back.

“In every lifetime,” he whispers.

You open your eyes and smile, looking up at him.

“In every lifetime, Logan.”

taglist: @its-in-the-woods @mynatureworld @wadewnstonwilson @squishyfruitloop @maybedisaster

@kellyxo1 @m1cky-y-y @flowersforbucky @namikyento

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lis-likes-fics · 9 months ago

Text

Poison

Pairings: Coriolanus Snow x district!Reader Word Count: 13.3k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, technically dubcon, swearing, post-ballad, mentions of killing and death, violence, technically prostitution, oral (m and f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, sadistic tendencies, p in v sex, unprotected sex, coriolanus snow is NOT a good person. A/N: I started this a bit ago but writer's block hits hard. Reader did not remember who the enemy was...but she also kinda did. ANYWAy, I wrote this based around a song from Hazbin Hotel called Poison. All credit for the song goes to Sam Haft and Andrew Underberg. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

PART ONE: The Deal

The knocks which echo off the walls of your house are loud, firm, assertive. You jump at the sound, watching the door like it would fly off its hinges. For far too long, you stare at the door, debating whether or not you should open it.

Who could it be? You don't get many visitors… You don't get visitors.

You stand slowly, the hairs along your arms and the back of your neck on edge. You swear that you can feel your hands shaking. You hold your breath just so you can actually hear what's going on around you.

Another firm knock is given, and you snap out of your haze.

Your feet carry you across the length of the living room. Your fingers brush the cold knob of the door, and you hesitate before pulling it open, just enough to peek through the crack to see who could possibly be visiting you.

Your eyes widen and you fight the urge to step back, both of pure shock and a modicum of fear. “Mr. Snow.”

The sight of Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow at your door was not one you ever thought you'd see. There are two Peacekeepers behind him, holding their guns tight in offense against you.

You clear your throat, looking upon his expensive suit, his white-blonde hair, the single rose in his breast pocket. You force yourself to look him in the eye, afraid to antagonize him and risk any violence, before remembering who he was. He wouldn't get violent, but you would pay for it if you angered him.

He smiles when you finally meet his gaze, but he doesn't bother to tilt his chin down to level it. “Hello,” he greets politely.

You straighten your posture slightly, opening the door a bit more out of obligation more than a desire to welcome him in. Seeing that he is the man who designed the Games that put you through hell, you would rather keep him out.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, keeping your voice as non-confrontational as possible. “Sir.”

He shrugs, pulling his hands from the pocket of his jacket and holding them behind his back. He almost seems taller this way.

“Checking up on our latest Victor,” he smiles. He motions toward your living room, “May I come in?”

You don't have much of a choice now. With a sigh, you take a reluctant step to the side and grant his invitation. When he takes his first step forward and the Peacekeepers begin to move, he stops immediately and holds up a hand. They stand firmly in their place. Snow turns back to you, smiles, and then walks inside.

He takes the time to examine the place before he ever speaks, and you close the door behind him to shut the grunts out. Snow clasps his hands behind his back once more and glances around the room like it's speaking to him. He nods slowly, humming to himself.

“How are you?” he finally asks after you've both spent far too long in uncomfortable silence. “How is the life of a champion suiting you?”

You try not to scoff, bowing your head and crossing your arms over your chest, making yourself as small as you feel.

“Well enough, I guess,” you mumble.

He glances over his shoulder at you. “You guess?” he wonders, raising a curious brow.

You clench your jaw once, “Mr. Snow respectfully, why are you here?”

He shrugs. “As I said…checking on our Victor.”

You hum. “And you do this with all your Victors?”

The corner of his lip kicks, barely perceptible if you aren't paying attention. But you are. It would cost you a lot not to pay attention.

“That's the routine,” he says. His eyes wander around the room once more, falling back on you with a cold expression. His eyes are like frost, and you shudder at the sight of them. He tilts his head.

“You don't seem quite happy with your turnout,” he suggests, his eyes narrowing slightly in a questioning manner. You feel like your blood has just run cold. The anxiety seeps into your skin. “Why is that?”

You clench your jaw nervously, clearing your throat as you shrug. You tear your eyes away from him for just a moment and force yourself to look back immediately after.

Your voice is small and your attempt at lying fails because of it. “Why wouldn't I be happy?” you ask. “I have…” You glance around, trying to find something to point out before you seem too suspicious—uselessly, you already know you've been caught red-handed. “I have...a new house and—and prize money. And fans, apparently.”

You try not to be too disgusted by that—fans gained with the useless slaughter of children. A few months you've been out of that arena. And you still see the faces of all those children in your head wherever you go, the sounds of regret and their deaths deafened by the screaming cheers of the mindless crowd that celebrated you for it.

“I'm…” you take a breath, “all set.”

He doesn't believe you. Why would he?

“Yet you've barely moved in,” he points out, making a small circle in the place where he stands. He holds his arms out, as if to emphasize his point. “No pictures, little to no personal belongings. This house looks exactly as it did when you first moved in.”

You furrow your brows, tilting your head slightly. “You know what it looked like?” you question, a gentle and hopefully empty challenge.

He raises a brow. “I was the one who approved everything here. For your comfort, of course.”

Ah.

“No one lives here with you?” he wonders.

You shake your head tentatively. “No one to live with.”

His brows raise slightly. “No family? Friends?”

You clear your throat and shake your head once more.

He hums. “A little lonely, don't you think?”

You shrug, your arms crossing tighter over your chest as you turn slightly away. “I'm used to being alone.”

His eyes scan you up and down. “That's quite sad.”

You swallow thickly. “Doesn't matter to me.”

“Here you are all alone in your little District 7,” he says. The way he looks at you, his predatory gaze, it makes you feel so small. But his voice is soft, not as mocking as it should sound compared to his diction. “No friends, no family, and no care about the way it all is.”

You want him to leave, leave you alone to your loneliness, your quiet misery. If he is just going to stand there and call you an outcast, you don't see any reason that he should stay.

“Yeah. Your point?” You don't mean to sound so hostile but you couldn't help it.

He seems to smirk. “How would you like to change that?”

You could have gotten whiplash. You blink rapidly, licking your lip as you try to figure out if you heard him correctly. “What?” you ask.

“How would you like to change that?” So you had heard him right. “Be a little less lonely, You'd have money, friends, all of your needs would be taken care of.”

You don't trust him. Why should you? Why would Coriolanus Snow offer you all of this? Comfort and stability, a life of luxury?

At what cost?

“And you're offering this to me, why?” Attempting a little boldness, you uncross your arms and straighten your spine a bit. “What did I do? I mean…” you scoff, “I won, sure, but only by the skin of my teeth. And I'm sure you don't go around offering this to all your other Victors. What's so special about me, huh?”

There's a long silence where he just…stares at you. His face is completely unreadable, devoid of any type of emotion as he watches your face too closely.

Then a smile begins to curl his lips and he tilts his chin up just a slight. “You're right,” he says simply. Then his eyes look you up and down. “Truth is, I lied.”

You don't like the change in demeanor. It's a different kind of superiority than the one he displayed before. “I figured as much,” you reply, trying not to lose your confidence, though your voice does become a little quieter. “So what do you want? Why are you here?”

He tilts his head and steps toward you. You take an instinctive step back. “You're special,” he says. You scoff but he just shakes his head. “I can feel it. I wasn't lying about my offer. I came to give you more than…” he looks around and sighs, “an empty house with no pictures on the walls. As I said…all your needs would be taken care of.” The smallest shrug raises his shoulders. “With a price.”

There it is.

Again, you scoff. You cross your arms and roll your eyes and plop down on the couch. “Have I not paid enough?”

He walks toward you, and suddenly you regret putting yourself in such a physically vulnerable situation. “You're right,” he hums. “You have. I'm not asking much. Truth is…all I need is an assistant.”

You furrow your brow. “And you're choosing someone from District instead of Capitol?”

He takes a slow breath in, shrugging. “You suit my interests. Capitol does not.”

“So I have to, what, follow you around? Take orders from you?” You lick your lip. “And I get what exactly?”

He takes his hands from his pockets. “Shelter, money, a sprinkle of fame. Anything you could ever need or want.” He stops a moment, thinking to himself with a light hum. “You'd have to sign a contract, of course.”

You sigh, a million thoughts rushing through your head as you actually consider his offer. This is the man who literally designed your hell. He is one of the very people who forced you to fight for survival, to kill for it. For months, you've lived with nightmares full of slaughter and regret.

But for years, you've lived with isolation and solitude. He would give you everything. Shelter, money, a sprinkle of fame. A chance to start over, a chance to be a little less lonely.

But you are all too aware of the chance that this could all blow up in your face. This is Coriolanus Snow. He's not to be trusted, surely.

“And if I say no?”

He stands still for a moment, so still you wonder if he'd frozen in time. You have to urge yourself to hold his gaze. You can't seem afraid of him, you just can't.

Finally, Snow lets out a long sigh. He steps close, before turning and sitting next to you on the couch. He leans back, getting comfortable as he crosses his legs and sets his hands in his lap.

“Then you stay here,” he says plainly, shrugging before letting his gaze wander around the living room of this hollow home. “In this big…empty house.”

This big empty house. Your grand solitude.

Knowing the things you know now, you wish you could say that you would go back and change your decision. You wish you could say you'd go back and choose your loneliness over the dark nights you'd sucked yourself into.

You made a deal with the Devil. And you know that if you had the choice…you'd do it again.

I'm not above a love to cash in…

PART TWO: Paradise

A week later, you found yourself standing in the Capitol, in Coriolanus Snow’s office, with a contract and a pen in front of you. You scanned over the words, took a deep breath, picked up the pen, and signed your name on the dotted line at the bottom.

Snow gave you a large smile and sent an escort to show you to your new living quarters. In his house. Down the hall from his room.

And for the next couple of weeks, you've been to two separate welcome parties, two other Capitol parties, and six meetings as Snow’s new assistant. You've handled messages, documents, scheduling, and a variety of appointed tasks that have put you in positions so far above so many Capitol members, you briefly wonder if you've signed into a scam.

At first, there was…resistance among the people. There were insults that you were an animal, a bottom feeder, a whore, a parasite. But every person who had dared to insult you had gone missing the next day. No one made any questions, or remarks, after so many people mysteriously disappeared.

And, soon, you got comfortable. Because Snow held up his end of the bargain. You were comfortable, wealthy, made some friends who had taken a moment to get used to you (you suspect they're trying to be nice to you to earn favor from Snow, but at least you aren't being insulted anymore). You don't go hungry every night, you always have fresh clothes. Sure, your schedule was a bit stressful, but that was an adjustment that could be made. Asking for more would be selfish—and insane, what more could you want?

You were, on the levels that counted…happy, content.

In just a few weeks, you had settled in like you belonged. Well…maybe not to that extent, but the work became easy and the needless parties were much appreciated.

When someone knocks on your door, you're pulling your robe over your body as you walk over to answer it. One of the servants stands on the other side, looking tired from the day's work.

“Yes, Charlotta?”

“Mr. Snow has requested your presence in his study, ma'am,” she says.

You glance behind you at the clock in your room. “Now? It's so late.” You hum, “Alright, thank you. Go to bed. You must be exhausted.”

She nods thankfully and turns away. You're quick to pull your slippers on, pulling your robe tight around your nightgown before rushing down the hall. You don't want to be late to him.

You reach his door down the hall, taking in a breath and raising your fist. Your knuckles meet the door four times.

“Come in,” His muffled reply comes.

You turn the knob, opening the door. Peaking into the room, you slowly walk inside, standing by the door. “You called?” you speak gently.

Snow is slouched over his desk, his pen scrawling away at a file of papers in front of him. “I did,” he nods. There's a moment of silence between you as he finishes up the last part of his work.

He sets his pen down and sits up, his back straight as he sets his clasped hand over his lap and turns his full attention to you. “I have an urgent matter I need you to take care of.”

You close the door behind you, establishing some privacy. It must be important if he's asking you this late. He probably needs you to run some important documents to someone, or schedule another meeting with one of the ambassadors that came to one of his meetings today.

“Yes, sir?” you ask.

“Come here,” he says, making a come hither movement with his fingers. Clasping your hands behind your back, you walk toward his desk and stop in front of him. He clarifies, “Behind the desk.”

You tilt your head, your brows furrowing as you hesitate. You begin to take your first step, pause, and then make your way behind the desk.

He turns his chair as you come to stand in front of him, your hands held tightly in front of you. He sits there, staring up at you as his eyes rake over your body.

You shift from foot to foot, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about the way he's looking at you. And again…silence.

“Get on your knees.”

All the heat escapes your body at the same time. A chill rushes up your spine. And once the initial shock has dissipated, a fire spreads across your flesh and you're burning up. You feel like your hands have begun shaking, so you shift them behind your back.

You have to find your voice again, clearing your throat timidly. “Sir?” you nearly stutter, clearing your throat again.

He shakes his head, amused by the timid look on your face. “I didn't stutter.”

You don't move, shocked to stillness. Snow sighs, standing to his feet and moving in front of you. He holds his chin up, looking down his nose at you to emphasize his superiority. You shrink underneath him.

“You're my assistant. You signed a contract,” he explains. “I take care of your needs, you take care of mine. No matter the request.”

You really should have read the fine print.

“Right now,” he continues, raising a hand to brush his knuckles over your cheek. Your eyes flutter lightly at the contact, holding your breath, afraid to breathe wrong and upset him. “My needs are for you to get on your knees and put your pretty mouth to good use. Then I'll do the same for you.”

Another shudder rushes through your spine. He pretends not to notice, but his smirk does deepen. Your lips part as you try to speak, unsure of what you'll say. “I…”

He drops his hand, lifting a brow expectantly. “Is there a problem?”

You clear your throat one more time, shaking your head and glancing away from his eyes, his intense, cutting blue eyes. “No, sir.”

He smiles. “Good.”

You glance up at him. His hand reaches up and grasps your chin. In the next moment, he's pulling you in as his lips crash down against yours. It's a possessive kiss, deep and devouring—controlling.

You have no choice but to kiss him back, letting your hands fall at your sides and lifting them up to his arms. You don't know where you're supposed to put them.

Just as you're leaning into the kiss, he pulls away from you and takes a step back. His lips, still parted and smiling, are wicked. He lowers himself into his seat, his legs wide open and his hands clasped in front of him. “As you were.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Taking an unsteady step forward, you slowly kneel to the floor. You hold your breath, avoiding his gaze as your shaky hands reach for his belt.

You undo it, pulling open his button and unzipping his pants. Exhaling, you nervously dip your hand into his pants and feel the warmth of his length against the pad of your fingers. You shudder, braving him as you pull him out of his pants.

And he doesn't disappoint.

Your eyes widen and you don't feel like it's real as you hold him in one hand. He's long with a nice enough girth that he will stretch you a bit. You curse under your breath, licking your lips as you glance up at Snow.

He smiles, watching you closely. Suddenly you feel naked. “What are you waiting for?” he asks, not cruelly.

You tear your gaze away from him, looking back down at the pink tip of his cock. You let your lips part and let your tongue fall to the edge of your lip…

The soft red light of Coryo’s lamp glows dimly on your skin as his strong hand cards through your hair, balling into a fist to grip your locks at his own need. Your moans stutter deep in your throat where his cock sits, the tears spring to your eyes.

His tongue plunges inside of you, licking the honey from your folds as you arch your back and moan his name. Your fingers tangle in his hair, and he groans into you at the sting of his scalp from your insistent grasp.

His lips press kisses to your back as you white-knuckle the headboard of his bed. His fingers dig into your hips, creating crescents in your flesh that crater your skin. He fucks you in long, hard strokes of his cock. His teeth are bared like a beast, his hair falls over his forehead, his groans are rough with lust.

The crashing of waves drowns you, explosions are set off deep within your body. His liquor fills your mouth, your throat, your belly. It's warm and sating, and he pulls you close to make sure you never stray from his hold.

And through the night, his arms never leave your body, his claws never leave your flesh…

It wasn't hard to get cocky after that. The Capitol was lavish, and it had a way of turning people to bathe in the lap of luxury. You slowly began to learn what kind of position you truly held here, and after months of being high-seated in the Capitol, you had begun to sink into your role.

Snow is the Head Gamemaker, you are his assistant. Everyone had to listen to you if they wanted to make it back home safe to their families. With a whisper in your boss’ ear, you could ensure no one ever spoke badly about you again.

Not that you have exercised that power yet, but you could. And Snow was happy to oblige.

After that first night in his room, your lips around his cock, his hand tangled in your hair, the pleasure didn't end. No, it's normal to find yourself tangled in his sheets, to find your head buried between his thighs (or vice versa), to have his name falling from your lips like you were praying to the gods that men had killed years and years ago.

You've become addicted to the taste of Snow, the smell of Snow, the feeling of Snow. It's an easy thing to overdose on.

Should you have been more careful?

Yes. Yes, you should have.

But Snow is an easy thing to get high on.

Katri spots you through the luscious crowd of one of the Capitol’s many needless parties with ease. Surrounded by nobles and benefactors, you brought your flute of champagne to your lips with a smile. A giggle erupts from your throat at one of the party-goers’ jokes—one that you didn't find particularly funny, but you've gotten really good at pretending.

Katri walks up to you, a tray of champagne in hand as she does. “Ma'am?” You turn toward her, smiling and grabbing a fresh flute from her tray with thanks. She clears her throat, “Mr. Snow has requested your presence.”

You hum gratefully. “Alright, I'll be there in a moment.”

You begin to turn around again but she insists. “He says it's urgent. He wants you immediately.”

Ah, then he's pent up. You wave a hand dismissively, sticking to your response. “Well, tell Coryo I'm busy. I'll be there in a moment.” She gives you a hesitant look, and you smile. “He doesn't have to worry his pretty little head about it. Okay?”

She scoffs lightly, turning away. “Whatever you say.”

The anxiety in the air around her is palpable with the fact that she would have to return this news to Snow. She finds him in the same place she left him, surrounded by diplomats with his own—now empty—flute of champagne.

As she approaches him, he smiles politely. “Where is my little assistant?” he asks.

Katri clears her throat as she switches his glass out for a fresh one. “She said she'll be here in a moment.”

The shift in his attitude is so slight, it's easy to miss. But she notices the slight clench of his jaw, the faintest clutch of his fingers. “Did she now?” he questions, his head tilting a bit to the side.

She nods slowly, switching her tray to her other hand. “Her exact words were…” She clears her throat once more, not wanting to recite your words back to him. You must have been out of your mind. “ ‘Tell Coryo I'm busy. I'll be there in a moment.’ ”

He seems to know there's more to it because he bids her to continue. Her eyes glance away from him as she does. “She said, ‘He doesn't have to worry his pretty little head about it.’”

She can tell there's something else he wants to say but chooses not to as his smile becomes tight. “Thank you,” he says simply, politely.

She nods. “Yes, sir.” She walks away.

PART THREE: Reality

You smile a bit when you feel Coryo’s hand land on the side of your arm, grazing up the length of it to reach your shoulder. You look up at him, immediately noticing the stiffness of his grin.

I shoulda guessed that this would happen…

“Coryo,” you greet with a smile. He nods toward the people surrounding you, greeting them politely. He doesn't look at you, just begins to lead you away from them as he ducks his head nearer to your ear.

“My office.” His words are firm, with no room to refuse.

Still, like a fool, you say, “In a moment please? I–”

His smile does not falter, but his voice is a demand as he speaks through his teeth. His grip on your shoulder becomes tight. “Now.”

You clear your throat, your smile still intact but not as professionally kept as his own. You nod once, “Yes, sir.”

He walks away, but not in the direction of his office. You watch him leave, clearing your throat discreetly and dismissing yourself from those who try to speak to you. You go straight to his office, not daring to refuse him again.

When you're there, you find yourself pacing the length of the room uneasily, waiting for him to join you. But he doesn't join you, not immediately. He makes you wait, he makes you stir. You stew in your own anxieties, cursing yourself for being so stupid as to tell him to wait.

Him.

Coriolanus Snow.

He interrupts your thoughts ten minutes later—you know, you counted—opening the door and shutting it gently behind him. He doesn't meet your gaze as he walks past you dismissively. He rounds his desk, pulling open a drawer that holds his personal scotch.

In silence, he pours himself a glass. In silence, he takes a sip. In silence, he savors the taste on his tongue and refuses to look your way for even a second.

You bow your head as you wait for him to say something, anything.

And when he does speak, you suddenly wish he hadn't.

“You're ‘busy’?” he questions.

“Sir?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

He smiles, turning to finally look at you. “ ‘Tell Coryo I'm busy. He doesn't have to worry his pretty little head about it.’ ” He licks his bottom lip, scoffing as he shakes his head at your audacity. “You let those words come out of your mouth?”

You clear your throat as quietly as possible. “I…didn't think it was a big deal… I was on my way.”

He stares at you, unblinking. Then he takes another sip of his drink and sets it down again. He walks from behind his desk, rounding to the front and leaning against it.

“Do you think you're special or something?” He furrows his brow, as though he's confused. You want to sink into the floor, to let the world swallow you whole, to disappear. “What, because I fuck you, you can talk to me any way you want?”

He puts venom behind the word, enough force to ensure you felt it. You swallow thickly, wanting to step away but knowing that if you did that, you would only make matters worse.

“Look at me,” he demands. And immediately, you obey.

You speak quickly, trying to fix your mistake before it can get worse. “Coryo, I'm sorry. I–”

“You're not special,” he cuts you off, advancing toward you. He grabs your wrist, pulling it up sharp and pulling you close to his face, inches away. You can feel his breath on your cheeks. “I own you. You belong to me.” His voice is low, dangerous.

But you've still got some pride left over. And that would be your downfall…

“I don't ‘belong’ to an–”

“You're mine!” he exclaims, though he doesn't shout. There's force behind his words, and his voice raises to a more stern, more possessive growl as he shoves you back. You stumble to the floor, grunting from the pain that shoots up your arm from landing on your elbow. You look up at him, your eyes wide with fear.

I shoulda known it when I looked in your red hot eyes…

“That's what it says in your contract, or do you not remember?” He takes a step closer, standing over you. His voice is low and dangerous, but he has no use for yelling anymore as he speaks to you. “You take care of all my needs—no protests, no complaints. Those words say that you do whatever I want, whenever I want it, however I want it. And if you complain, I take away everything you know, drop you back in your sad little district, and put your name back in the raffle one hundred times over.”

You should have known it from the beginning. A deal so good had to come with a hell of a lot of strings. From the very beginning, he had been lying to you with the idea of a shiny new life.

Spewing all your red hot lies…

He stares at you, his jaw clenched, his breath slowing to a gentler seethe. He lifts his chin, collecting himself as he takes a steadying breath. He kneels in front of you, resting his elbow on his knee.

His voice is a whisper. “You belong to me.” His tone is final, definite. “If I say speak, you say?”

Your breath trembles with a mix of anger and fear as you look up at him, tears threatening to well in your eyes but refusing to breach the surface and give him the satisfaction. Your lips part, though you hardly give yourself space to speak.

“Yes, Coryo.”

“If I say jump, you say?”

“Yes, Coryo.”

His hand wraps around your throat, pulling you forward enough so that your faces are once again only inches apart. “And if I say open your mouth, you get on your knees and drop your jaw.”

You stare at him, your gaze so close to blurring as you sigh, choked up from his suddenly poor treatment of you. “Yes, Coryo.”

The smallest smirk creeps over his lips and threatens the rest of your already weak composure. He pulls you in and his lips press hungrily against yours. It's all teeth and tongue, biting your bottom lip and licking the top of your mouth. You want to resist, but you can't. His touch, however wrong, however killing, is addictive.

When he pulls away from your lips, you nearly seek him out, releasing a breath like he'd filled your lungs with smoke. Your skin picks with red hot spite at the tiny moan that slips through your lips.

He holds your throat a little tighter, not enough to stop your breath but enough to make the tips of your ears tingle. Enough to make the heat in your core grow.

“I own you,” he whispers. “You belong to me. Do I make myself clear?”

Your lips part and shallow breaths pass pathetically through them before you finally respond, a whisper of your own. “Yes, Coryo.”

“I can't hear you.”

“Yes…Coryo.”

His grip loosens. “Good.”

He lets you go, standing to his full height once more as you take in a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as your hand flies to your throat.

You watch his hands find his belt, undoing it with deft hands. “Now open your mouth,” he commands.

You swallow thickly, slowly adjusting yourself to sit on your knees. You glance away as you drop your jaw and stick your tongue out over your teeth.

“Look me in the eyes.”

You do, immediately. His blue eyes, hiding so many lies behind them that they brim with color. “Good girl.”

Your jaw ticks as you raise your hands to pull his cock from his pants, already hard from the power he holds over you.

What's the worst part of this hell? I can only blame myself.

You wrap your lips around the tip, laving your tongue against the head before slipping it underneath him. Stroking the rest of you, you take special care in providing his pleasure as you let your lips suckle around him.

Up and down his length, you go, giving him your hot, wet mouth as he likes it—as he needs it. His hand tangles in your hair and grips it tight, guiding you just a bit to take him deeper down your throat. And you do. You take him as far as he'll go, keeping the gag awaiting at bay as you swallow around him.

I know you're poison. You're feeding me poison.

And when you think you've gone far enough, he holds you down and shoves the rest of him farther inside. Your lungs are tight, they burn with the lack of air. But you just hold onto his thighs and hope he grants you enough mercy for breath.

And when he pulls out enough for you to snatch that merciful breath, you can taste his precum on your tongue. And you waste no time in taking him again, up and down and up and down. Just like he likes it—just like he needs it.

He curses under his breath, holding you tighter as his desperation grows and grows. “Fuck, just like that,” he huffs, fighting to keep his eyes open as your tongue caresses the vein along the bottom of his cock.

His lips part, his eyes shut. He shoves you farther down on his cock as your good work pushes him over the edge. The warmth fills your mouth, down your throat in generous amounts of pent up stress. And you drink it up. Every drop. Like liquor.

Addicted to this feeling I can't help but swallow up…

You catch your breath as he collects himself once more, his chest heavy with the lust simmering down in his belly. He tucks himself away, back into his pants. And as he watches you, you lick your lips free of his poison.

He smiles wickedly, cupping your chin in his hand. “Good girl,” he praises again. You stare at him and say nothing else. He inhales, exhales, and straightens his back. “Come. We have a party to re-attend.”

You stand on unsteady feet, wiping your face clean just to ensure you aren't going back to the party with Snow’s cum on your lips.

He pulls his arm around your waist and leads you back.

At the first sight of you and Snow, the vultures swarm. “We were beginning to think you weren't coming back down,” one of them jokes.

Snow smiles, “Of course not. I just had some business to take care of. Isn't that right?” He turns to you expectantly.

You let your smile widen across your lips as you nod. “Yes, Coryo,” you say.

You can see the wicked beast glint happily in his eyes. Pleased, he turns away from you again to look at his hand, realizing it lacks the champagne flutes each of his guests hold in their hands. He smiles at you once more.

“Would you mind getting drinks for me and my guests?” he requests.

You avoid the clench of your jaw that you long to grant him, instead deciding to pull your smile into a wider grin and nod.

“Yes, Coryo.”

“Thank you,” he grins. He lifts a crooked finger to the underside of your chin, tapping it lightly. “And cheer up… It's a party.”

You give him a tight smile and walk away in the direction of the kitchens, which is currently bustling with people making another batch of the well-loved appetizers and refilling more glasses for the guests.

You pass by the champagne entirely to get to the, quite large, liquor cabinet. You pour yourself a hefty glass of scotch and gulp it down, braving the burn of your throat as you finish it with a sigh.

You replace the scotch, claim a tray, and walk out with the requested beverages. You hand them to Snow and his guest, a glorified waitress.

Taking your own flute, you hand the tray to a passing server and let the effects of the scotch sink into your bones.

You wouldn't call the rest of the night a blur, especially because you are completely aware of what was happening as you continued to mingle with the guests. You kept a hold of your wobbling tongue, and you remained civil and polite. Snow could tell there was something off—and of course he knew what it was—but you hadn't embarrassed him yet, so he let it slide.

And that night, when the guests took their leave and the party came to a close, you met Snow in his bedroom once more so he could more thoroughly remind you of who you belonged to.

And like the addict you are, you happily obliged.

PART FOUR: Lap Dog

You made sure not to forget your place again.

Weeks turned to months, months turned to years, and you were still seated at Snow's right hand as he climbed the ladder, dragging you along through the journey. You did everything for him, anything for him. That was your job. Whatever he asks of you is considered done as soon as the request passes his lips. Whatever he wants, whenever he wants, however he wants. No matter what.

You sold your soul to the Devil, and you were addicted to the madness of your deal.

“I need you to give this to Snow.”

You're stopped in the middle of the hall by some woman with a stack of files in her arms. She's got a smug face, and you immediately don't like her as she grabs the file at the top of her stack and thrusts it out toward you.

You sigh, taking it as you begin to flip it open. “What is it?”

She pinches the top corner closed, shaking her head. “It's not your business to know, is it?”

You scoff, smiling as you tilt your chin up. The same way Snow does when he wants to stress his rank over another person's head. “Actually,” you wave her hand away from you, “as President Snow's assistant, it is my job to know anything and everything about what goes to and from his desk.” You take a step toward her, looking down on her just as he would. “So I ask again, what is it?”

There's a long pause as she stares at you, her eyes dark with the hatred and prejudice that bleeds from her gaze. Capitol taking orders from District? It's unheard of…

You would think, since you've been here so long, that they'd learn that you rank higher than they ever will. They don't have to like you, but whether they like it or not, they have to listen to you.

It wasn't hard to become cocky, but cocky was something you learned. This woman, whoever she was, was born with it. And that was a plague that would be the end of her.

She huffs quietly. “It's the request he made for some documents.” Your brow furrows slightly. A mistake. Now she believes she knows something you don't. Now she believes she has the upper hand. Her tone betrays her. “Something about the Games’ Victors.”

You don't know what this is. You've heard nothing of the sort.

But she keeps saying “something”. You want specifics. Does she not have it? “You don't know?”

“Of course I know,” she lays a delicate hand over her delicate chest. For a moment, you wonder if she's ever had to do any kind of work (you know she hasn't). She wouldn't last a second…

“And I'd elaborate,” she continues, pulling you from your thoughts, “but I, quite frankly, don't want to tell you, and you probably couldn't read it to figure it out for yourself.” Your jaw tenses at her unfounded insult. You don't respond. “I mean, that's why you want me to explain it to you, isn't it?”

I got so good at being untrue.

You sigh forcefully, a long, deep sigh to try and control yourself. “Excuse me?” Does she truly dare to challenge you in such a way?

“You heard me,” she replies, unblinking.

Clearly, she thinks you're an idiot. A stupid, incompetent idiot. You want to take her words and shove them back down her throat. You want to grab her by the hair and drag her around like the dog she seems to think you are.

But you can't. You must remain civil, so the only way you can try to hurt her is through your words.

You don't need trouble with Snow for embarrassing him…

“Ah,” you scoff, lifting your chin again to keep your superiority. “So you're stupid?”

The blatant insult has her clutching her pearls. Obviously, she wasn't expecting that kind of bluntness from you.

You smirk at her reaction, no longer collected. You have the upper hand once more.

“You really think it's a good idea to talk to me like that? Me? President Snow's second hand?” You don't love playing that card, but it's a play that will almost always work for you.

No one would dare object to President Snow.

She hums, trying to seem unphased. “You're right,” she says, “I probably shouldn’t speak to Coriolanus Snow’s little pup like that.” Her face contorts into one of mocking sorrow, her lip jutting out and her brows furrowing. “She might get sad and go tell her master on me.”

Little pup. Little pup.

Flashes of late nights spent in Coryo’s room, nights where his stress gets the better of him and he decides to take it out on you, nights where he spanks you and calls you names and takes you hard and rough, cross behind your eyes. “My dumb little girl, my pathetic little whore, my pitiful little pup.”

And you would let him, you would encourage him. You would moan and writhe and bend to his will. And your fists tighten at the memory. They clench with rage and regret and the desire to be more than an animal.

You aren't an animal, you are a human fucking being.

I got so good at telling you what you wanna hear. I disassociate, disappear.

Baring your teeth and losing composure, you huff. You're seething as you speak. “I am not his pup.”

She chuckles, finally striking a nerve as she lifts her brows. “Aren't you? His little lap dog.” She puts emphasis on each word, ensuring the ‘G’ hurts. She walks toward you, but you don't move. You stand your ground. You aren't scared of her.

You're going to fucking kill her.

Foolishly, she continues on. “You think just because you won the Games and he decided to take pity on you, that gives you any real power?”

You scoff. Pity. He doesn't know the meaning of the word.

“You're his whore,” she spits. It doesn't anger you because it's true, it angers you because no one even knows about that part of your deal, and she's accusing you of being a whore because of who you are.

Her face is inches from yours, her voice trying to be lower, though it's so naturally snooty that it's hard to reach that threatening level. She sounds like a child. And her sneer makes you want to treat her like one.

“You're a fucking slut. Just a little District animal who got lucky.”

Your anger flares. You grit your teeth. You lower your voice, successfully, and nearly growl.

“You wanna say that again?”

She smirks wickedly. “You are a whore.”

You walk toward her. She's standing so close that she is forced to step back with the stutter of her heels scraping the floor.

“You forget,” your lips turn in a venomous smile, fueled by rage and violent tendencies you're trying your best to hold back, “I fucking won the Games. I killed tributes with my bare hands, and you want to challenge me?”

And you see the flash of fear behind her eyes at the reminder, though she tries to hide it. But you know fear. You've felt it slice your flesh, you've used it to slice other's flesh. You know the biting and the tearing and the clawing of fear, and you can see it clear in her eyes even as she tries so hard to hide it.

Being afraid is the smartest thing she's done since she decided to open her mouth.

“You aren't going to do anything,” she says, as a defense more than an accusation, a reassurance for herself more than a taunt for you. “You'll just tuck tail and run to master–”

You're done being civil. You're done rolling over and showing your belly. You're done bowing your head and taking orders.

If they are going to treat you like an animal, you'll behave like one.

And she meets the blunt end of your rage with a fist to the face. Stacks of files smack loudly in a pile on the floor. You clip her cheek with the ring on your finger, and you huff at the pleasure that comes with defending yourself.

Her face whips to the side. It's a full body reaction. She staggers, crying out as her hand flies to her face, unable to take the heat of your violence. She looks back at you, her eyes wide with fear, too much to have room for anger.

You don't give her the chance to make room for it either. You punch her again on the same side, this time letting your fist connect with her brow. And when she stumbles again, you shove her back so she falls to the floor.

The sounds of her pain are loud and evident. But the bliss you gain from them is only so perfect because she deserves it.

And as you straddle her body, you can smell her fear just as well as you can see it. You can taste it like the blood she tastes on her tongue as you hit her again, and again, and again.

“What is going on here?”

You're off of her in an instant—and it's no scramble. You maneuver off of her with ease and scoop up your files once more, straightening your spine as you stand back and join Snow's side with one hand behind your back, bloodied knuckles and all. You sniff, the rueful look on your face taking a moment to dissipate as you replace it with civility.

You are a human being.

You don't look at Coryo’s face. You know it's covered with anger and disappointment. It's worse if he's stone cold. You can salvage this…

The woman rolls over onto her side, holding her nose delicately as she struggles to her feet. Tiny gasps and painful moans slip from her lips. She got what she deserves.

“Sorry, sir,” you say, obviously lying.

Suddenly, you feel like you should have punched her one more time. Because she begins to laugh. It's a bubbling laugh that you're sure is hurting her.

You can't do anything now. Not while Snow is here.

She shakes her head, licking her split lip and wincing through her laugh. Snow finds that more offensive than your empty apology, more offensive than even your savage display of violence.

“What's your name?” he demands.

She straightens up just a bit more. She also doesn't seem to understand the situation because she has a snarky grin on her face that says that she believes she's coming out of here on top. But those odds are not in her favor.

“Ellyn Halper,” she says.

“Ms. Halper.” He watches her, looking her up and down, his eyes strict and cold. He makes her squirm, even as she looks confidently at him. “You're fired.”

The news hits her like a train. She steps back, faltering, the horror crossing her face. “What?” She scoffs, glancing between the two of you as she shakes her head. “She attacked me!”

“And she wouldn't have attacked someone unprovoked,” he raises a brow. You try not to smile at him taking your side—and it's easy, because they talk about you like a misbehaved pet. “She must have had good reason. Clean out your desk and get out of my sight.”

She lingers, disbelief painting her features and mixing with her anger. When she doesn't move, Snow tilts his chin down and glares.

“Now.”

It's here that her rage outweighs her sense. She loses it. “You're going to protect this animal over Capitol?” she yells, pointing at you.

Still riding the high of your violence, you bare your teeth. “I'm not–”

“Quiet,” Snow snaps.

You shut your mouth.

Ellyn shakes her head, her lips twitching. She looks straight at you, sighing. She steps forward, stopped by Snow's warning hand. She leans in, “You're a disgrace.”

Snow can't have such blatant disrespect.

“Pack your bags, Ms. Halper,” he says. “I'm sending you to the districts.” Her horror is palpable. “We'll see who the animal is. I'm sure they would love to get their hands on Capitol.”

Snow doesn't give her any more attention. He turns and walks away, your impending punishment terrifying as you listen to his steps. You huff gently at her, slowly allowing your lips to split into your triumphant grin.

Snow calls your name. Your lips fall. You turn.

“Lap dog,” she spits.

Your jaw ticks. You turn again, and watch her step back. Your lips part, but before any sound can actually breach your lips, Snow calls your name again, firmer this time.

You huff, harder this time, and leave. You try to wipe the sight of that terrible smile on her bloodied face from your memory.

“What was that?”

He's pissed. His jaw ticks as he sets his hands on his hips.

But there's enough anger to go around.

Smacking the files on the desk, just as loudly as before as you jut your finger out towards them in accusation, you counter, “What is this?”

He dismisses you carelessly. “That's my business. Not yours.”

Before he can speak again, you cut him off, speaking quickly and concisely. “In my contract, it says I take care of your needs. It also says that I am your secretary and personal assistant. I handle your accounts, your documents, everything—so that means this is my business.” Stepping close to his desk, you lean forward toward him and lower your voice. “What is this about?”

Instead of answering you, he straightens his back and lifts his chin. With an amused scoff, he smirks lightly. “You actually read your contract.”

You don't appreciate his taunts. You read the full extent of your contract years ago, and you make sure to reread it every month to ensure you've memorized every detail. If he's got you on a tight leash, you need to know how much room you actually have to move.

“Coriolanus,” you huff. You wish you could say you won't say it again, but he'd make you repeat a million times if he felt like it. And you would have to obey. “What is it about?”

He's silent as he thinks to himself, contemplating. How does he answer your question without giving you the power and the luxury of a response?

But it's easy for him to remember that he will always have the power. He will always have the upper hand.

He breathes in, and you watch his lips curve. “The Victors.”

“I heard that,” you say. “What about them?”

His smile grows. The mischief and cunning lights up in his eyes. He places his hands in his pockets, rounding his desk as he leans back on it, crossing his ankles as he does. “This deal between you and I works pretty well, I'd say.”

You clench your jaw, unhappy with where this conversation is leading. You shake your head, “And?”

“And,” he shrugs, “there are and will be plenty more victors out there fit to do the same.”

You lose some of your bravado, your anger and confidence replaced by hesitant disbelief. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Sometimes you forget that Snow was, in truth, an evil man. Between your nights of passion and unnecessary gifts, it's easy to forget about the monster underneath his façade of fancy suits and beautiful roses.

He circles your body, like predator to prey…as always.

“I make sure people stay interested in the Games. And people like to keep up with our Victors,” he turns toward you suddenly. “I mean, they seem to take plenty of interest in you.”

You shake your head, your voice weak, “Coryo.”

He ignores you, continuing on. “These Victors are interesting. And some are considered to be quite…attractive in some senses.” He stops in front of you, smiling evilly. “A contract here and a signature there–”

“Coryo,” you try again, your voice trembling this time.

“–and these rich cats can have a Victor all to themselves.”

“Coriolanus.”

He stops, watching you expectantly as you try to wrap your head around his vile proposal.

They didn't deserve this. These Victors have already been through so much and he wants to add more grief and misery to their lives?

You were already lost the moment he stepped foot in your house, the moment you signed that contract, the moment you fell to your knees in his office and had your first taste of him. There was no hope for you now.

He'd gotten you addicted a long time ago…

“These are people,” you all but beg, clasping your hands together in hopes of persuading him away from his sadistic plans, “they're human beings. They aren't animals for you to sell.”

He makes a face, smiling wide as he leans in. “They are animals.” You expected this response, but it still hurts for him to say it so indisputably. “And they're for me to do whatever I want with.”

You clench your teeth and watch him turn away again, reclaiming the file and dropping it into a drawer he pulls open. “And besides, they won't be sold indefinitely.” He looks up at you with that sly grin of his. “The Capitol should be able to have their fill…”

You scoff. “Oh, so they're not just your slaves, they're your prostitutes.” You can't believe him, though you know you should.

He’d done it to you. What was stopping him from doing it to the rest?

Hopefully, you.

“They're my pets,” he counters. He leans forward onto his desk. And he's so tall, that he manages to lean in so much that he can see each little fleck of your irises as you stare unblinkingly at him. “Just like you.”

You nod, pursing your lips. “Okay, then I'm your pet.” You lean in as well, this time. You lean in so close that he has no choice but to shift away from you. “Not them.” You lick your lip and round the desk, wanting so desperately for him to hear your voice for once.

You plead, because it's the only thing you can do. Your voice is quiet, desperate, weak. Just the way he likes it.

“Let them go. You do enough to them, they don't deserve this.”

He doesn't hear you. He doesn't care.

“They deserve whatever I decide.”

Your jaw tenses, your thoughts scrambling to figure out a solution. Any solution. You just need to persuade him, to change his mind. This doesn't need to happen.

But his eyes are so cold, so stoney, so lying. There's no sympathy there and there will never be sympathy there. So you try to sway him in the way you know best.

You drop to your knees, skilled and shaky hands grasping his belt as you begin to undo it quickly. “What are you doing?”

The metal clinks as you work at it, pulling it free from the first loop as you begin to take the latch from its adjusted position. “Changing your mind,” you answer plainly. As you loosen the belt, tugging on it to remove it from the loops of his pants. “This is what you want, isn't it? You're just trying to rile me up to get me to do what you want. I'll do it–”

“Get the fuck off me.”

He pushes you away, shoving you onto the floor like you're nothing. And to him, you are. Nothing.

He doesn't seem angry, just annoyed at your audacity… And then he seems amused. His face lifts and he begins to smile. His smile turns to a chuckle, and he shakes his head as he looks down at you, purely amused by your attempt at persuasion.

“Oh, I get it,” he laughs, walking toward you to properly tower over your meek body. “You think that because I fuck you that I actually care about what you want.” He pronounces the F to hurt, punching it while also saying it with such disregard that it truly shows how little it means to him… Nothing.

He kneels down, resting his arm on his knee and watching you with those taunting eyes. “This isn't about you,” he whispers. Though his voice is soft, it cuts like a knife. Your hands tremble as they lift you up.

He spews his poison without restraint. “You are an animal. And yes, you are my lap dog.”

He feigns sympathy and remorse that he isn't capable of. “You think I swooped in earlier and punished that stupid girl because she talked down to you? I punished her because you're mine, and if I let someone get away with disrespecting my things, no one will respect me.”

He spews all his hatred, and you take it all. “I couldn't care less that she called you an animal or a whore or whatever the fuck else because you are.” It's a slap in the face each time as his voice becomes more and more hateful. “You're my pet, and you're my whore. You belong to me.”

So far beyond difficult to resist another gulp.

You stare at him, your face fallen as you seem to learn your lesson for the thousandth time. You're nothing to him. You're just property, and you mean nothing.

He smirks, standing to his full height once more as you remain tossed to the floor. You stare at him, your fight diminished.

“Speak.”

Like a dog.

“Yes, Coryo.”

Obedient.

“Smile.”

It looks like a sneer.

“Yes, Coryo.”

Well-trained.

Your lips part as you open your mouth, dropping your jaw as you've been doing for years.

And though that satisfies him beyond all belief, that satisfaction is all he needs. “Close your mouth.”

Nothing.

“Yes, Coryo.”

Your monotonous tone falls silent as you await his next command, a dog waiting for orders from her master.

He bends down, grasping the front of your shirt in his fist and pulling close. His face is inches from his. You don't fight him, you don't resist in any way. You let him move you as he pleases, staring blankly at him.

He looks about the length of your face. His smile is wholly evil. “Don't forget what you are.”

Quiet, broken, weak is your voice. Just the way he likes it.

“Yes, Coryo.”

He hums, letting you go. “Good girl.”

PART SIX: Addiction

You hear the footsteps coming down the hall and ignore them all the same. Flipping the next page in your book, you sigh gently and pull your legs closer toward you. Just a couple more sentences is all you ask…

Your door opens without a knock, and you aren't surprised. This is his home, you are his pet. Why ask permission for something which belongs to him?

You force yourself to meet Coryo’s gaze, the exhaustion in your eyes clear. He's in the same clothes as before, though his hair is more relaxed and his shirt is looser, the top few buttons undone to let his chest peek from its hiding spot. With one last sigh, you close your book.

You slip off the bed, easing down to your knees. Letting your hands rest in your lap, you allow your jaw to drop open wide, ready to receive him as you push your tongue out over your bottom teeth.

He smirks lightly, his chuckle even lighter. “Down girl.” You close your mouth.

“How do you want me?”

He sighs gently, closing the door behind him and slowly walking inside. “Believe it or not,” he says, his voice gentle, “I'm not here for me, I'm here for you.”

You raise a brow, unimpressed and suspicious. “Why?”

Your attitude amuses him. He shrugs, taking a seat at the edge of your bed and looking down at you. It doesn't feel as condescending as it usually does. “Making up.”

Foolish hope sparks in your chest, but you don't let it show. “So you're not going through with it.”

“No, I am.” He hums, “But I can't have my pet neglected, now can I?”

You sigh, turning away from him. You don't know why you asked.

He pats the spot next to him. “Get back on the bed, my flower.”

You look down at your hands as you rub at your pinky. “Yes, Coryo.”

As you sit up, taking the spot next to him, he tuts gently. “Now, now. No need for that tonight,” he says, closing the gap between the both of you.

You look up at him, your attitude fully present still. “Yes, Coryo.”

He sighs. Coryo sets a hand on your knee, turning toward you. “You're upset,” he says. You scoff. “That's understandable. I upset you.”

You want to say something snarky, but you're on thin ice from today, and you don't need to make it thinner. You turn away, but he catches your gaze as he takes your chin with his crooked finger and turns you to face him again.

And you hate yourself for feeling cared for.

“Let me make it up to you.”

You hate the way you nearly melt. “You can make it up to me by letting them go.”

He hums, shrugging. “Or I can eat you out.” You feel like you might shake at the idea. When you don't speak, he raises his brows. “Unless you just want me to leave…”

He's manipulating you. You know he is. He's been doing it since the beginning. You'd think you had some sort of defense against him at this point, but he's had years of practice in bending you to his will, in getting you hooked on him.

He knows. He knows what you are.

You're feeding me poison.

And you give in. Because you've never been strong against him, not even for a moment. You give in because you're so addicted to him that you'd die without the taste of him on your tongue…

With a long sigh, you lay back against your pillows and spread your legs. His smile spread across his face in such a wicked way, self-satisfied and fully amused.

He sets a hand on your knee and shifts himself to kneel in front of you. He slowly pulls your panties down your legs and pushes your nightgown away, teasing you and increasing your still-there frustrations.

Yes, you've lost the ability to resist this man and his sexual prowess, but that doesn't mean you want to draw this out. It's shameful enough…

He knows this. That's why he does it.

His lips press to the inside of your knee, then further down your thigh, and then right back up. You huff silently, annoyed with his antics.

He gives you a disarming smile. “Come now, my flower,” he tuts. “I may be spoiling you but that doesn't mean we don't still have our manners.”

You lay your head back, sighing as you let your eyes shut. You lick your bottom lip. “Please, Coryo.”

He hums. “I am sure you can do far better than that.”

Maybe you should cry. Maybe if you cry, he'll think you're ugly and leave you to live back in your lonely home at Seven. He'll think you're too worthless to go back into the Games. You could sober up the hard way… He'll leave you be.

But you know Coriolanus, which means you know that would never happen. He'd tsk, tsk, tsk and tell you how perfect you look crying. He'd hold you down and fuck you and tell you to be a good girl and keep crying for him. And you would. You know would.

Besides, if he did cast you out, he would just choose someone else to take your place. Then he would do this to them.

Better you than someone else.

You look up at him, screwing your face into a self-pitying expression. Your voice is small and meek when you open your mouth.

“Please, Coryo,” you whisper, “I'm yours.”

Just the way he likes it.

Pleased, he presses another kiss to the inside of your thigh, and then lets the flat of his tongue lick along the seam of your pussy. A whimper slips from your lips at the feeling, and you let yourself fade into the pleasure.

You forget that this man is your captor, your master. You forget that he's the reason for your nightmares. You forget that he's dark, cruel, sadistic, that he does not truly care for you.

You lose yourself in the fantasy that he is a loving man who only wants to see you happy.

“Coryo,” you moan as he suckles eagerly at your clit, a man starved of his sweet wine. Coryo. Not Coriolanus. Not Snow. Your Coryo. Your gentle, loving Coryo. The man who held you when he wasn't forcing you to your knees and bidding you to be his good girl.

His fingers stroke inside of you, two long fingers curling with you as his tongue flicks at your clit. The stretch of his fingers is welcome, and you look down at his head nestled between your thighs. You whine at the feeling of his tongue, hungry and searching.

His dull nails dig into the flesh of your thigh. As his tongue delves inside of you with his lips suckling around you, you feel his nose press deliciously against the sensitive bundle of nerves, which aches for release.

Circling his head, your legs wrap around him and squeeze, the tension tightening in your belly as he works eagerly at your pleasure. You're helpless to him as sounds rise from your throat like a gentle hum. Again, you whisper his name, lost to the feeling of him. He grunts into you, your body warm with the vibration, with the warmth of his mouth, with the warmth of his hands on your thighs.

“Coryo,” you whimper as you feel your pleasure rising within you, tingling in your legs and in your toes. Your open-mouthed breaths make your throat dry, but it’s hard to focus on that when each breath you take fills your chest with more and more desire. “I’m so close,” you gasp. “Please, can I cum?”

Instead of answering, he just sucks harder on your clit, prying your thighs further apart as he licks you up. As that coil tightens in your belly, your legs tremble and almost fight against his grip keeping them apart. You grind your hips up to meet his face, he holds you down.

You know how he likes it—the grinding, the moaning, the pleading, the strength. And when the pleasure crashes down on you, your clit pulsing against each lick of his tongue as he continues to work you, you shut your eyes and let out the breathy moans he loves so much. Your chest is full of warmth.

I’m choking on this feeling I can’t help but swallow up.

“C-Coryo,” you mutter, the sensitivity becoming too much as your legs continue to tremble. You arch away from him, but he holds you tight and pulls you closer. He forces your legs apart still, not quite finished as he continues to suckle around your sensitive bud.

You gasp when he finally pulls away, satisfied with the taste of you. “What a good girl you are,” he murmurs, smiling almost wickedly—though you replace it with one full of love and care. One can only dream.

He crawls up your body, stalking like a predator as he leans in, his face inches from yours. You bring your hands up to his cheeks and pull him down to meet your lips, kissing him with all the passion you can muster. He cares, he cares, he cares.

He cares as he traces his tongue along the seam of your lips. He cares as he smooths his hand along your soft thigh. He cares as he brings your leg up against his side and grinds his hips against you. He cares as he digs his dull nails into your flesh like the claws of a lion. He cares as he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip like the fangs of a wolf.

He definitely cares as he brings a strong hand to your hair and tangles his fingers there with every intention of tugging you back to see your face. You whimper lightly, sinking into it and pretending the burn of your scalp is just the heat of your desire.

I made my choice and every night I’m wasted like there’s no tomorrow.

“You’re so pretty,” he smiles, and you fully understand the unspoken “like this” that follows his words but you choose to ignore it.

He kisses you again, this primal, devouring kiss you gladly mistake for ardor. He takes the bottom of your nightgown in his hand and pulls it up and over your head. You let him take it off of you. You let him strip you bare as his greedy hands smooth along the length of your body. Tentatively, not fully committed (you would be perfectly content with his lips on yours, kissing him forever under the illusion of simple intimacy), you pull at his belt. He undoes it and pulls it off entirely. You think he’ll toss it away, but it doesn’t.

“Open your mouth.”

Obediently, you do. He wraps the belt around your head, fitting it in your mouth as he loops it behind and pulls it tight. You nearly wince at the feeling, but he’s done worse. He unbuttons his pants, leaning down as he presses his lips to your neck. He kisses and sucks and nips at your throat, and you both let out deep moans that rumble in your chest when he presses inside of you.

You lean your head back, giving him more space to paint your neck in his claim. The taste of leather is strong on your tongue. Each breath you take is full of the earthy scent of his belt. You set your hands on his waist as he braces his fists on either side of your head. His thrusts are deep and rough. You feel his hips as he moves, his slender waist fits perfectly between your legs.

Your moans are muffled by his belt. As you dig your heels into his back, encouraging each thrust as he gives them, he grunts at the way you tighten around his cock. His hips snap into you with a greed that makes you crazy, that drives him wild. Taken by the pleasure, he grabbed the belt behind your head and pulled it in a way that made you look up at him.

His lips are plump from kissing you so roughly, his hair is loose and falling in delicate locks across his forehead, his breath fans gently across your own face. He looks pretty like this. Even with the predatory gaze in his eyes, he looks pretty. You want to kiss him but you don’t. You can’t.

He breath stutters in his throat after a particular thrust, and your eyes flutter shut as you moan at the feeling. He continues to fuck into you, like it’s the last time. There’s nothing gentle about it, nothing sweet or nice or careful. He fucks you to his own need, but knows you well enough that it would fill you with so much pleasure that it doesn’t matter if he does it for him.

And he knows you well enough that the lack of care he has in his thrusts fills you with so much longing that he doesn’t need physical pain to be sadistic.

He pulls out of you suddenly, his breath coming out in hot puffs as he leans back on his haunches. “Turn around,” he orders, though his voice is quieter—there’s no real need to bark with you.

Anyway you want me, baby, that’s the way you got me.

You do as you’re told, ignoring the discomfort in the loss of him inside of you as you sit up and move as quickly as you can with the sluggish nature of your desire for him mixing with your depletion. As soon as you’ve turned around, he doesn’t care to give you time to adjust to the new position before he’s grabbing the belt again, wrapping it around his fist, and taking your hip in his other hand as he shoves his cock into you once again.

You go to hang your head, the feeling too great, but you’re stopped by his grip of the belt. Setting the quickened pace at the beginning, he fucks into you fast and rough. The sound of his skin smacking against yours fills the room. A light sheen of sweat coats your body as the heat fills you inside and out. His name is muffled on your lips, but his grunts are clear in the air.

His hand on your waist circles around as he presses his fingers to your still-sensitive clit. He rubs fast circles against it, building you up, up, up. You can’t help but whine, you can’t help but feed his hunger as he fills you with pleasure. Your legs tremble, and with his skill, it isn’t long until he hurls you into your second orgasm.

You throw your head back and moan, the sound rough with your desperation. But he doesn’t stop. He isn’t finished. He fucks your sensitive cunt. His eyes flutter at the tightening of your cunt.

You feel so weak, tired from the exertion but not fully satisfied until you’ve given him all that he needs. You’ve been with this man for years and the conditioning settled in a long time ago.

I’ll be yours.

So, yes, he keeps going and keeps going and keeps going. He takes you on your back, he takes you on your hands and knees, he takes you against the wall (front and back), he takes you in his lap, and he never stops each time until you’ve come apart in his hands. Pent up with so much stress and spurred on by the fatigue in your eyes, he lasts through it all.

You don’t know how long you’ve been going by this point. All you know is the rhythm of his hips thrusting in and out and in and out as he pushes you down into the bed with your ass pulled up against his hips and your face buried in a pillow. His hands push against your back, keeping you down still. You can hear his breath, heavy with his own nearing exertion. His thrusts are beginning to lose their rhythm, becoming more and more desperate with his nearing release.

You can hardly keep your eyes open. All your breaths have been reduced to shallow whimpers, and as his finger presses against your clit again, a mewl slips from your throat as it pleads for relief and release alike. You hear him begin to curse under his breath, his thrusts rougher though not as steady. And he presses you further still as he moves closer, seeking his relief as it gets so close, he can taste it.

And, because you know him just as well as he knows you, you tip him over the edge as you let your lips part. Your voice is small and meek and whiny, a needy little cry that he hears because he craves it. “Coryo.”

“Oh, fuck,” he growls.

He fucks you hard in the first few seconds that he spills into you, his cum hot and plentiful as he moves himself farther against you as if he could go deeper still. And as his fingers flick at your clit, you accompany his needy moan with your own as you cum as well. You’re blinded by the feeling, left mewling as your eyes well with tired tears. It’s almost uncomfortable and you wince slightly when he presses a little too deep into you.

Coryo lingers there, his breath evening into a steadier rhythm as he eases off of you. You take in a full breath as he pulls out of you, closing your eyes and going limp against the sheets. Your body is so heavy, full of the exhaustion that has haunted you for years, exhaustion that comes with belonging to Coriolanus Snow. You wish you could slow down, take a breath, but whatever Snow wants, Snow gets.

My story’s gonna end with me dead from your poison.

Coryo runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh. He picks your nightgown up from the floor and wipes the both of you clean with the smallest modicum of care. You feel his knuckles brush against your shoulder and you shiver as he lets it graze gently along your spine. He stops it at the dip of your back.

Coryo turns off your bedside lamp, crawling into the bed as he shifts behind you, a gentle hand falling to your side as he pulls you into his body. And you actually find comfort in his arms as he pulls you closely to his body. His head rests in the crook of your neck, your body is pulled flush against his. His warmth seeps into your skin and you let your eyes flutter shut as he pulls the covers over your bodies.

And for a moment, everything is perfect. For a moment, you trick yourself into believing that this man can be capable of love.

But you feel his arms tightening around you until your lungs are so tight that it’s nearly impossible to breathe. You feel his nails, eager and greedy, digging into your flesh, and you wince at the terrible sting of them. He pulls you closer, not just seeking your warmth, but seeking full control and possession over something that already belongs to him. You silence your whimper.

I’m drowning in poison. I keep fillin’ my glass but it’s always hollow, full of poison.

When you can get past the pain of his embrace, you manage to lull yourself to sleep. You rest in his clutch and indulge in the false security of his empty arms.

But your rest is short-lived. Because halfway through the night, he wakes. Coryo opens his eyes and loosens his hold on you. You rouse from your own sleep but you stay perfectly still with closed eyes and steady breath. He lets go of you completely, getting out of the bed and leaving the room with silent steps. He has work to do.

I’m sick of the poison.

Once the door is closed, you’re left cold and alone. You curl up in on yourself, turning your head into the pillow as you feel the dam break. And like an idiot, you cry into your pillow. Your chest stutters with all the pain and weariness and hopelessness you carry with you through the day, through the night. You let it out, but it never seems to fade. And as the fatigue takes over once more, you let it take you into a sleepless kind of sleep where your nightmare of holding love in your hands plays in your mind over and over and over again.

Wish I had something to live for tomorrow.

Coriolanus Snow taglist: @the-nerdy-goddess Tag yourself here...

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader smut #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #fanfic #fanfiction

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anachronismstellar · 13 days ago

Note

DOES SQH SLEEP WITH WITH A MONK PEAK LORD???

IT'S CALLED SQH GOTTA GET THEM ALL, MY FRIEND, OF COURSE HE DOES

Sorry it took me so long, had to do a bit of research that turned out to be a lot of research BUT HERE YOU GO

I got the name Gao Qinggao from the amazing 00janeblonde and their FAQ of their fic here

Heads up for me bullshiting a lot of things Airplane style lol

Also bondage and praise kink?

I hope y'all like it!

---------

Ku Xing Peak wasn't one of the most prestigious among its siblings, far from it. If one compared it to the beauty of Qing Jing, the forests of the Scholary Mountain would be greener than emeralds. Or if one searched for riches and luxury, they would have better luck going to Xian Shu Peak, Qi Qingqi sparing no coin to accommodate her disciples.

But if they were allowed to take pride in something, it would be their talismans. From the most basic trick like heating water to the most intricate barriers and bindings, their work had been a reference throughout the cultivation world. If there was a talisman, they would have been involved in either its creation or its improvement.

So imagine what a surprise it was to see the An Ding Peak Lord using talismans Gao Qinggao had never seen before.

First, he thought it was an artifact. Shang-Shixiong was close friends with higher peaks, thus being able to pull favors and acquire relics he would never dream to see. The problem with that theory is that he had seen his own surprised mirrored on Shen Qingqiu's and Zhangmen-Shixiong faces as Shang Qinghua took a folded paper from his sleeve and pressed it into the table. It grew in size until it occupied the entire top of it with a huge map, detailed descriptions of the regions, and topography showing next to the main locations. It would be difficult, and it would take a lot of effort, but this effect could be done with a mixture of talismans after modifying certain radicals.

What made him pause was that, during their talk Mu-Shixiong asked about a specific place and Shang-Shixiong just put his both hands over it, dragging them away from each other making the map focus more and more until they could see the vegetation and when they were finished Shang-Shixiong dragged his hands again but closer, making the map to go back to it's original level of detail.

That would be mixing two types of talismans that shouldn't work together, you can't have one without nullifying the other and-

Gao Qinggao was intrigued.

The technique was interesting, yes, but it wasn't his area of expertise. He had always been a more practical person, focusing his studies on suppression of energy and Qi restoration. Meaning, he could just brush it off and send one of his disciples to ask about it later.

But the fact that he could just ask and understand was a compelling argument.

"Shixiong used a very unique technique today at the meeting. I had never seen someone use talismans to make images show up like that," he approached the other when he had finally left Shen Qingqiu's side. "This one is very interested in learning how Shang-Shixiong did that."

"Oh er," Shang Qinghua blinked, fiddling with the folded paper on his hand before hiding it away. "This little thing? Uh. I don't know if- Uh, I don't know the technique, I just found it- yea! I found it in ah. Oh I don't remember but-"

"Oh?" He wouldn't deny he was a bit disappointed, but not surprised. "Do you mind if I borrow it for research? I've never seen talismans interacting like that, I know some disciples that would be delighted to see it as well."

Shang-Shixiong started to fidget, picking on his sleeve where the paper had been hidden, looking everywhere, but Gao Qinggao.

"I'd love to, really, but this is kinda vital for my peak? I'm afraid I can't lend it. It has got all the trading information and our suppliers, I can't risk it."

"I understand. Would Shixiong allow one of my disciples to go to An Ding to examine it then?"

"I'm afraid the information is too sensitive to be examined by someone outside Lord ranking and-"

Ah. He almost heard the sound of a coin dropping.

He was a bit younger than the others, coming to his position by an urgency of appointing someone to fill his master's place. Not to say he wasn't competent, far from it, but he was aware that his situation and age made the other peak lords underestimate him, or dismiss his opinion when the topic diverted from talismans.

Another disadvantage of his age: he hadn't had the time to mellow down; to reign his fury as expected from a monk. He was no Liu Qingge, of course, but with enough pressure...

"This one apologies for bothering Shang-Shixiong." He spit through clenched teeth, making a point of leaving without a bow, his breathing so labored that one could hear it all the way from the demon realm.

How dared Shang Qinghua hide this knowledge from him?! From his peak?! And what was the point of hiding it anyway? Wouldn't be wise to share it so they could improve it?

Maybe Shang Qinghua was using something forbidden. But there were layers upon layers of protective arrays in the meeting room. The smallest fizzle of demon energy would set off the alarms.

So there must be another reason for Shang-Shixiong to not let him at least look at the desing. Could it be- No.

Did Shang Qinghua think he couldn't learn it?

Ooooh, that just made him more furious.

It might be difficult, but now that Gao Qinggao knew it was possible, he would be able to replicate somehow. His Head disciple could handle the next weeks by themselves, he would grab all the books and parchments they had about redimensioning images, also the ones they had about crystal mirrors and how they were made.

Then he would rub it off Shang Qinghua's face. And maybe spend two weeks in inertia to balance all the spite and anger he was feeling.

---------

It didn't work.

Gao Qinggao laid on his private quarters with piles of papers around him, some crumbled up, others torn into pieces. Blessed be the Heavens that he had never minded being under inertia for long periods of time, because he couldn't remember the last time he ate.

Every single attempt he had made, failed.

Not for his lack of knowledge, he could see where the logic behind it, but it was if the structure kept dancing in front of him, fluttering away like a bird as soon as he reached to grasp it.

Where in all realms had Shang Qinghua found this technique?! Maybe in the Demon Realm? But none of the books that they collected from there had anything like it.

To put it mildly, he was furious.

He was starting to consider that Shang Qinghua was the one who wrote it, and his handwriting was so atrocious he created something without intention. The problem with this is that one, he hadn't seen the talisman close enough to see if it was Shang-Shixiong's handwriting. Second, it was impossible for him to have created it accidentally, the amount of contradictions and spells that had to be put on the paper, on top of using the right ink for it...

He just needed to look at it. Just to look to have a direction to where to start.

He put everything away and stood up, dusting his clothes, calling for a bath even though it was the middle of the night.

He was going to An Ding.

----

"You are a good person, and you will be an amazing Lord, Gao Qinggao," his old master said while passing the Peak Lord robes to him, the soft brown and gray so plain one wouldn't recognize him as a high cultivator outside the Peaks. "Just promise me you will work on your temper."

And he had promised, with heavy heart and aware that would be an ever losing task. He had done his best over the years and had made progress.

But not enough it seemed.

"I have all night, Shidi, and we know I'm more patient than you."

Gao Qinggao ignored the voice across the room, testing the bindings around his wrist as he controlled his breathing. When he had flew to An Ding and tried to sneak inside Shang-Shixiong's house, he wasn't exactly thinking. All he could remember was his blood boiling, eyes seeing red while his mind kept going on and on and on that he was doing this for the good of the Sect, that Shang-Shixiong was the one in the wrong for keeping secrets, that he was just going to look that's all.

He failed to consider that a man with secrets like Shang Qinghua wouldn't survive this long if he weren't good at keeping other people away.

"Shidi," Shang Qinghua gave him a tired sigh that Qinggao ignored to focus on more important things such as at least getting his hands free. "If Shidi doesn't talk to me, I have no way to help you."

He kept his mouth shut. To be honest he didn't even know what to say. He had no plan, he just wanted to take a look at the map! Frustration burned his face red, showing up in blotches that went all the way up his shaved head.

"Very well, Shidi. Let's do it your way then."

He glanced at Shang Qinghua, but a second later the other peak lord left his line of sight. There was the sound of a chair dragging through the floor, then callous fingers grabbed both of his wrists, the thumb pressing against his pulse.

It was as if Shang Qinghua had dropped snow water down his spine, the array drawn on the ground shinning for a second or two before the was released. He felt his body sag, his quick reflexes barely saving him from falling on his face.

"Now, Shidi, this is a very simple array, one that you know very well, I believe," Shang Qinghua dragged the chair again, this time sitting in front of Gao Qinggao, elbows on his thighs, the low light playing shadows on his face, turning his expression somber.

Gao Qinggao couldn't help but shiver, dread tickling down his neck and chest, realizing that he might have entered the tiger's den. And once more, he was hit with a mix of feelings towards the other man. He couldn't help the anger bubbling under his skin, forcing him to slam the barrier with his open hand, all in vain. But at the same time-

At the same time.

His mouth felt dryer than a desert. He exposed like an open wound as Shang Qinghua stared at him up and down and then up again, the usual bubbly and warm expression nowhere to be seen. No, that face he had seen only a handful of times, either when the Sect Leader was about to do something stupid to protect Shen Qingqiu, or when the peak lords were not behaving during peak meetings.

To be under the entire focus of it felt as if the rest of the world grew quieter, a little darker, the lights clinging to Shang Qinghua as if he were glowing with unreleased power.

"A simple truth array, but I bound you to it, so you may not leave." Shang Qinghua's low voice reverberated in the tiny room, their faces separated only by the shimmery wall. "As you have decided to be difficult, I have decided it was time for you to be a bit more truthful."

"How dare you demand truths when you are the one holding back secrets!" He couldn't help but shout, unable to hold back in face of such hypocrisy.

Like clouds parting after heavy rain, Shang Qinghua’s face relaxed, his whole posture softening up to his usual friendly self. He groaned, his deep sleepy voice waking up something in Gao Qinggao's belly, making him blush for another reason entirely.

"Oh Gao-shidi," he kept his voice down, followed by a chuckle. "Is this still about the map?"

His amusement only fanned the ember of his anger, making it burn brighter. How dare Shang Qinghua mock him? How dare he laugh at him like a cruel demon trapping Gao Qinggao and treating him like a play thing?

"Of course it is! You denied my single request for you while raining gifts to all the other lords! I'm tired of bland favoritism, my peak and I might live a frugal life, but aren't we also requested to share our precious knowledge?!"

He had been so worked up he didn't realize the moment Shang Qinghua shifted his feet, ready to pounce, releasing the array but grabbing Gao Qinggao hands once more, twisting his arms to bind them against his chest.

"You're a feisty one, I've forgotten that," he commented as he slowly lowered Qinggao on the floor, making him kneel, the sound of paper followed by the dry sensation of it on his legs making him flinch. He struggled for a few moments, giving up as soon as Shang Qinghua gave him another chuckle.

He was truly trapped.

"Tell me shidi, what is upsetting you? The fact that you were denied something you took for granted as yours or the fact that you haven't been praised for your contributions to the Sect?"

He was rendered speechless, the fire in his belly almost an inferno, his breath picking up but not in anger. He couldn't hold back a gasp, shame and desire clashed upon him as he felt stripped naked by how easily Shang-Shixiong had seen him.

"Is that it then? Praise?" Shang Qinghua started to walk around him, humming as he touched the back of his robes, fixing the sleeve that had slipped down his shoulder, inked fingers brushing over his clavicle. "Gao-shidi has been so good for us. So kind to share his talents."

He felt paralyzed, hands closed in a tight fist, desperate to cover his face, to hide his shame, unable to move. He was pinned down by burning brown eyes, the light reflecting on them, turning them into gold. It had been years, so many years since he had felt so stricken by desire. And to be hit full force with his sultry voice was- was unexpected, that's all!

"This Shixiong apologies for denying your request. You've been one of the most valuable resources for our Sect, you should be told how good you have been."

"W-What?"

"You're such a good craftsman, Gao-shidi, your talismans are without flaws. I can release you and show you a few of my own."

He didn't mean for the low soft "Please" to leave his mouth, not even sure anymore of what he was asking for. Yes he desperatly wanted to see the talismans, but he was also desperate to feel Shang-Shixiong touch him, somewhere, anywhere, just to do something, take responsibility for setting off this fire on him!

"... Unless you prefer to stay like that?" Shang Qinghua's asked as he touched Gao Qinggao's cheek, brushing his fingers along his jaw so he could tilt Qinggao's face up. "Bound by talismans you can't break?"

"Oh heavens-" he moaned, truly moaned as he closed his eyes, wishing for any Gods that might hear him to swallow him whole when he noticed the damp spot on his pants.

"It's okay shidi," Shang Qinghua's hands went down his neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of his shoulders, sliding under his robes. "We can work on your patience as we go."

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

do I feel slightly blasphemous for writing this? Yes

Do I believe that this is what Airplane would have wanted? Abso-fucking-lutely

And as we can see I'm upping my rating as we go fjsbskdnskfm not full explicit but maybe,,,,,,,,,,,, who knows

Thank you so much for the ask and for giving this a read!! :D

Here is the masterpost of this insane AU asdhfiusdh

6/12 peak lords, Wine Peak here I gooooo!

#scum villian self saving system #svsss #sqh 12/12 achievement #sqh gotta catch them all #shang qinghua #Gao Qinggao #how many times did I blush while writing this? yes #LISTEN I WAS NOT EXPECTING THE PRAISE KINK EITHER #oh heavens #ANYWAY

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murdockparker · 8 months ago

Text

Our Cottage

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: A first anniversary is nearly as important and memorable as the wedding day—if only she had remembered it. Or, at the very least, hoped her husband also forgot. Knowing her husband? Unlikely.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: fluffy fluff!! cheesy as cheese gets I'm afraid, mentions and illusions of sex but no smut (sorry babes maybe next time)

A/N: Another self indulgent fic for me myself and I. You're welcome to read it if you want I guess—I have nothing else to say about it

The room was too fragrant.

Maybe it was her sensitive sense of smell that had awoken her, but something about the near ten bouquets that adorned her bedchambers led her to believe that both could be true.

“What in the world?”

“Good morning, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, knocking unceremoniously on the door. “I do hate to intrude on your beauty sleep, but I was instructed to beat the drapes and I’m afraid this is the last room I have left to do.”

“No, no,” (Y/N) groaned, sitting up in bed, “I bet it’s time for me to rise anyway. Can’t sleep the day away.”

“You’re much more forgiving than Mr. Bridgerton,” Mrs. Crabtree smiled, entering further into the bedchambers. “As much as I miss the young master’s presence here at the estate, if he found out that I awoke you early,” she laughed quietly, “I reckon the mister and I would be packing our bags before nightfall.”

“Oh please,” (Y/N) peeled the covers off of her body, stretching her legs, “Benedict loves you both dearly—”

“But he loves you more,” the woman points, making good work of taking the drapes off the wall. “Why, do you think Mr. Bridgerton would purchase the same amount of flowers for me?”

She looks closer at the bouquets—all full of a different variety of blooms. Most filled with her favorites, but a handful were a collection of his favorites as well. “Why did Benedict purchase all of these flowers, anyway? It seems excessive…”

Mrs. Crabtree’s smile seemed secretive at first, fading in realization after looking Mrs. Bridgerton in the eyes. “Oh, my dear, you’re serious.”

“Benedict is usually known for romantic gestures,” (Y/N) said indifferently, “I do not recall a time he did something quite like this, though.”

“Well, I can recall a time Mr. Crabtree and I had to clean up a shocking amount of paint and a few precarious handprints across his study…”

She wished she was still in bed, wanting nothing more than to pull the covers over her bright red face. It was one of the many nights of their honeymoon—Benedict had the bright idea to try and paint with their bodies instead of brushes. She thought he had the decency to clean it all up in the morning. She thought, anyhow.

“I-I’m sorry you had to clean up such a mess,” (Y/N) said, praying the apology could transcend lifetimes. “I will be sure to let Benedict know he needs to be more careful with his oils.”

“Oh, your love keeps me young, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “But as I was saying—do you really not realize why your husband had purchased so many flowers?”

“Not a clue.”

“Perhaps it isn’t my place,” Mrs. Crabtree said slowly. “But you and the master have been married for a year now.”

“Yes, yes,” (Y/N) waved. “Nearly year of marital bliss—”

“A year ago, today.”

“Today is… surely not…”

Noticing a perfectly placed card in the bouquet on her nightstand, she grabbed it and quickly sped over the looping font.

Dearest,

I hope these blooms find you well, I instructed the Crabtrees to be extra careful in their delivery this morn. As exquisite as the flowers may be, and I insisted on their exquisiteness, they could never hold a candle to you. Light of my life and song of my heart, how pleasantly perfect the last year has been.

Happy anniversary, my love.

Yours forever,

Their anniversary. Their first anniversary, and she had completely forgotten about it.

“Mr. Bridgerton is still visiting Kent until this evening,” Mrs. Crabtree explained, as if the young missus didn’t know. “I’m sure that provides ample time to prepare something for his arrival, at the very least twelve hours give or take.”

“How could I have forgotten?” (Y/N) was beside herself, forgetting her anniversary? Her first anniversary? Surely it wasn’t an omen of some kind. She was holding onto his note rather tightly. “What kind of a wife am I?”

“Not a terrible one,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “Why, I recall forgetting quite a few of my anniversaries as well.”

“Not your first one though, correct?”

“Well, no—”

“We need to go to town,” (Y/N) said determinedly, flinging her closet open, eyes scanning over every sensible dress she owned. “I need to figure out a way to top whatever spectacle my husband has planned for this evening.”

“I’ll call for a carriage,” Mrs. Crabtree sighed, knowing full well that the drapes will not get finished this afternoon.

“If we were in London, why, I’d have hundreds of choices on what to get Benedict,” (Y/N) said, skimming through the few booths at the market. Life out in the country was agreeable, favorable even, but it was moments like these that she truly missed the convenience of living in such a populated place. “I just do not see how I am to make a gift with anything here.”

“Perhaps, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, carrying a basket full of fresh fruit and veg—taking every opportunity of the market while they’re out, “perhaps you should try gifting something from the heart?”

“What to wives usually get their husbands for the first anniversary?” (Y/N) asked absentmindedly, fingers running over a healthy pile of apples.

“I find that most women in your place have the pleasure of gifting news of an heir right around or before the year mark,” Mrs. Crabtree said, a hint of a smile dancing on her lips. “I don’t suppose you can surprise Mr. Bridgerton with such news?”

Her face went red. “No. Decidedly not.”

“Shame,” Mrs. Crabtree clicked, “I was rather hoping to be doting on a babe sometime soon…”

“What did you give Mr. Crabtree for your anniversary?” (Y/N) tried to change the subject, ignoring the perfect thought of a little baby with Benedict’s eyes. Perhaps they would have her nose? Her smile?

“Well,” the older woman’s face lit up, “our Henry was the best kind of gift—for me or Mr. Crabtree. I wish I could be more help in that regard, dear.”

Defeated, (Y/N) threw a handful of apples into her basket. The apples weren’t even all that good this time of year. Perhaps she could convince Mrs. Crabtree to bake a pie. Either way, a snack for the horses and their hard work this morning.

“Please forgive me for speaking out of turn, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree spoke quietly, “but your husband loves you dearly, I am quite sure he would be most content with any gift you give him.”

“Oh I am sure he would be well suited to accept anything I made or purchased,” (Y/N) agreed. “I rather think I could sneeze on a piece of parchment and he’d write to the National Gallery to induct it into their collection.”

“He would,” Mrs. Crabtree agreed, holding back a laugh.

“Why did I marry such a thoughtful man?” (Y/N) groaned, fist clenching tighter on her basket. “I am destined to be in this predicament every year until the day I perish, aren’t I?”

“To be in a happy marriage, ma’am?”

“To have to deal with my inadequacy for gifts,” she corrected. “We are but a competitive match, after all. Chess is a blood sport with us,” (Y/N) laughed, recalling the last time they had played the game. They both were of the same mind, irritating as it were, it was as if they were playing themselves. It usually ended well regardless, with one under the other in the bedroom. “He probably has been planning something since we were wed, I’m sure. How do I ever top such a thing?”

“Might I suggest the baby narrative again?”

“Mrs. Crabtree, I know you mean it in jest, but it really sounds like my only option at this point.”

“I cannot help my need to see perfect little Bridgerton babies around the estate,” Mrs. Crabtree said cleverly. “But I also know when that day comes and you and Mr. Bridgerton do end up having children, it will be the most welcome of presents. Just, not this year, hm?”

“No,” she sighed, “not this year.”

“Very well,” Mrs. Crabtree nodded. “Perhaps we should head back to the estate?”

“I suppose,” (Y/N) sighed again, kicking a stray rock off of the path. “No use in sulking at the market when I can sulk in the comfort of my own home and await my perfect husband’s arrival with his perfect present.”

“Chin up, dear,” Mrs. Crabtree laughed, putting the baskets away in the carriage. “It’s endearing that you care so deeply about Mr. Bridgerton's gift. I’m sure whatever you land on will be just perfect.” A tease of sarcasm, a tease at her young missus.

“You’ve made your point,” (Y/N) grumbled, hopping into the cab. “Perhaps I should just accept defeat.”

“Oh, well now that won’t do,” Mrs. Crabtree admonished playfully, closing the door behind her. The carriage begun moving home. “You yourself said you were a competitive match, and I for one would like to see Mr. Bridgerton bested. All men need to be reminded that the wife is the true head of the house from time to time.”

(Y/N) snorted. How she cared so deeply for the staff here in the country, the Crabtrees were always a breath of fresh air. “He’s well aware.”

“Remind him anyway,” Mrs. Crabtree said absentmindedly.

As if struck by lightning, Mrs. Bridgerton knew exactly what she could gift her husband.

Benedict was exhausted. His family’s bad timing is never lost on him, needing his immediate attention at Aubrey Hall for one reason or another. His mother’s correspondence begged him to come urgently, a matter only meant to be discussed in person rather through letters. With a heavy heart he left his wife behind, knowing he’d only be gone for a handful of days anyway, even if he would be missing the majority of their anniversary day.

Benedict grinned wickedly. They still had plenty of the night, however.

When he originally had purchased My Cottage, he never expected to share the less-than-humble estate with anyone else, but like it was meant to be—and he had a very good reason to believe it was—(Y/N) made it her own and took to the country as well as he thought. She had even made fast friends with the Crabtrees, who, by all regards, Benedict thought of as family.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” Mr. Crabtree greeted, nodding to the young master exiting the carriage. Anthony had sent for him with a family transport—knowing Benedict would not want to leave (Y/N) without—all the more reason for his brother to agree to come to Aubrey Hall. “Welcome home, sir.”

“Crabtree,” Benedict nodded back, jumping down to the dirt path.

“How was your family, sir?”

“Dreadful,” Benedict groaned. “Made even more taxing by the two entire days of travel there and back. Do they not realize how far Wiltshire is to Kent?”

“I am sure the viscount is well aware,” Mr. Crabtree said, treading lightly. “I am also sure that they would not have called upon you for a small matter, either.”

“No,” Benedict sighed, rolling his shoulders. The trip had been a long one, his muscles ached. “It was a good reason for my visit, but it still pained me to be from my wife for so very long, especially today.”

“Ah, well, your missus has not been herself since you left,” Mr. Crabtree said. “I am quite sure that seeing you will be a happy reunion indeed.”

“Please ensure that you and your missus find your lodgings in the cabin, this eve,” Benedict said, as if the thought just occurred to him. Asking his staff to stay at the cabin by the pond became a regular occurance, especially after his marriage. “It is my anniversary, after all.”

Mr. Crabtree smiled. “Already done, sir.”

“Excellent,” Benedict said, trying his best not to grin from ear to ear. “Have a good night.”

“You as well, sir.”

Benedict knew that dinner would be waiting for him inside, Mrs. Crabtree probably having already made his favorites. After his day of travel, he was ravenous—more for food in this very moment than anything else, but he would settle for his wife, too.

“Darling,” Benedict called out, removing his boots by the front entryway. “Your fantastic husband has returned!”

Silence.

“Darling?” He called again, only to be met with the ticking of the grand clock in the foyer. “Playing hard to get, it seems…”

A shimmering of light caught his eye. Candlelight was emitting from his study, his studio, flickering from the crack under the door.

Odd.

“(Y/N)…?”

He opened the door cautiously, only to find his wife hunched over an easel. She had a streak of blue paint on her right cheek, a smidge of green right across the bridge of her nose. Benedict couldn’t recall the last time he saw something so endearing.

“Oh! Benedict!” (Y/N) said, nearly jumping five feet into the air. “You’re home!”

“I am,” he laughed, shutting the door to the study. “What’re you doing in here?”

“Cooking,” she deadpanned, posing with a hand on her hip, painters pallet in the other. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“After all my begging to get you to pick up a brush, you decide to do it whilst I’m away?” He pressed his hand to his chest. “I cannot decide if I am touched or hurt.”

“It was meant to be a surprise!” (Y/N) laughed, setting the pallet down. “A gift for you.”

“A gift?” Benedict mused, walking closer to his wife. “And what did I do to deserve such a gift?”

“You married me,” she said simply, wiping her hands of any wet paint. They were still covered in a kaleidoscope of colors, but all dried down and hardly worth the effort to clean at the present moment. “A year ago today, I gather.”

“Oh yes,” Benedict said knowingly. “That is today, isn’t it?” His wife grinned up at him, looking more beautiful than the day he met her, a day he could have sworn was burned into his mind forever.

“So I’ve been told,” (Y/N) said. “I hate to admit, but I started on this later that I would have liked, only working on it for the last eight hours—”

“You didn’t happen to forget our anniversary, did you?” Benedict crossed his arms, his voice teasing.

“Of course not!” She lied, keeping her voice even. “You are just an impossible person to make a gift for, that is all.”

“Ah,” Benedict clicked. He did not believe her, but forgave her all in the same breath. “I see.”

“So it is not yet finished—”

“May I see it?”

“No, not yet,” (Y/N) said, turning the easel away quickly. He couldn’t have possibly seen what it was from where he was standing, anyway.

“What if…” Benedict crossed the room, carefully opening the closet in the wall. “We showed them together?” He pulled a similar sized canvas from the contents of the closet, covered in a plain white sheet. Of course he painted her something, it seemed only right. She married an artist, after all.

“Yours is going to be much better than mine,” (Y/N) said, nearly melting into the floor. “I will feel inadequate comparing our work.”

“Nonsense,” Benedict scoffed, walking back towards his wife. “They were both made with the same amount of love, I’m sure of it.”

“Perhaps…”

“Come on,” he said, nudging her arm with the corner of his canvas lovingly. “On the count of three?”

She nodded. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

She spun the easel around just as Benedict removed the cover from the canvas in his hand.

Laughter filled the room.

“Oh my darling, I could kiss you,” Benedict said, voice full of love, his eyes not straying from her canvas for a moment. “Granted, I have wanted nothing more than to kiss you since I arrived—”

“Out of everything we could have painted,” (Y/N) giggled, brushing hair out of her face. “We picked the same subject?”

On both canvases laid a landscape rendition of My Cottage, one obviously more well-done than the other. Benedict’s gave a sense of perfect imperfection, something worth hanging in a gallery or museum. (Y/N)’s, while being done by the hand of a novice in only a handful of hours, gave it the sense of home, the shared feeling the couple had every day at their estate.

“We share the same mind,” Benedict surmised, setting his work on a neighboring easel, putting both side-by-side. “What a stunning collaboration on our end.”

“You jest,” (Y/N) pushed Benedict playfully. “Yours is far superior to mine. A toddler could have done better work.”

“Nonsense!” Benedict said, pulling his wife into his side, kissing her temple. “You obviously put such care into it, no matter how lopsided the left side of our home may be—”

“Benedict—”

“It’s brilliant, my love,” Benedict sang, turning (Y/N) to look directly at him. “I couldn’t have asked for a better gift.”

“Truly?”

“Well, I fear I am still waiting on my welcome kiss…” Benedict sighed.

“Needy, needy man,” (Y/N) bubbled, rocking on her toes to reach her husband’s face, all but happy to oblige.

After a total of four days apart, the kiss was one that was worth waiting for. Saccharine sweet and slow, it was welcoming, it was home. Much like their first kiss, Benedict idly wondered if (Y/N)’s lips were always meant to be captured in his own—as if they were quite literally made for each other.

“Oh dear,” (Y/N) giggled, pulling away from her husband’s embrace, thumb rubbing soothing circles on his jaw. He needed to shave.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Paint,” she said, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “Entirely my fault. I’m not even sure how I got it on my face to begin with…”

“Hardly the first time,” Benedict quipped, leaning back in to kiss her once more.

“Do you really like it?” (Y/N) asked, resting her head on his shoulder—their attention somehow turned back to the canvases. “Or are you lying to me?”

“I would never lie to you,” Benedict said. She believed him. “But, I do suppose a few more hours would boast well to the quality…”

Another playful slap to his arm.

“Where are we to hang yours?” Her hand grazed his masterpiece. He must have finished it ages ago, hiding it away for just the right moment. “The entryway gets too much sun—”

“What about our bedchambers?” He offered.

“No, I want our guests to admire your work of Our Cottage,” she hummed, focusing her attention to the beautiful wreath he lovingly added to the front door. She loved adorning their door with fresh flowers, a detail he surely could have overlooked, but still included anyway. “Perhaps in the drawing room?”

“Our Cottage…” Benedict mumbled happily. “I think it’s high time we changed the name to that, don’t you agree? Seeing as it is no longer ‘my’ anything, not with you here.”

“Considering it still is not a cottage in the slightest, I have a few disagreements on that alone,” she teased. Their estate was nearly the furthest thing from a cottage, nearly a small mansion. “But yes… Our Cottage seems fitting.”

“And where will we hang your masterpiece?” Benedict pulled her tighter into his side. “Shall we hang them side-by-side? Allow our guests to see just how talented the Bridgertons can be?”

“Oh I am quite alright with stowing this away until forever,” (Y/N) laughed. “No guest needs to see this poor attempt when the true artistry falls onto you.”

“Poppycock!” Benedict dismissed. “My wife worked very hard on this, I refuse to just ‘stow it away’.”

“Well, then where do you suggest we hang it?” She said, trying not to smile, his praise flooding her senses from her head to her toes.

“I may have a few ideas…”

The wondrous scent of flowers filled their home once more, something that happened more and more frequently in the summer months, when flowers of all sorts were in season. Benedict made sure he outdid himself from last year, adorning each room in their home with at least two bouquets each, rather than just a load in their bedchambers. His reasoning? They only get the once to celebrate their second anniversary, might as well make it special.

“Should we move this one?” (Y/N) asked, holding a rather large assortment in her hand. “I would hate for her to be overwhelmed by the scent…”

“Darling, she’s fine,” Benedict said, grabbing the bouquet from his wife. “But, if you insist, I shall make an exception on this room.”

“She’s a baby,” (Y/N) giggled, watching her husband clumsily run across the hall to place the bouquet in their bedchambers. “I do not think she has the capacity to admire such a thing yet.”

“We want our daughter to be well versed, do we not?” Benedict said, returning to the nursery. “Best we start her on the language of flowers as soon as we can. An educated lady is a respected lady.”

“You’re impossible,” (Y/N) grinned.

“So I’ve been told.”

“God, she’s so perfect,” she said, looking over the crib with a look one could only describe as lovestruck. “How did we manage to make such a beautiful thing?”

“You did most of the work,” Benedict said, suddenly beside her. “I only showed up the once, if I recall.”

“Oh hush,” (Y/N) leaned up against him, feeling the warmth of his body touching her own. “A perfect anniversary present.”

“She’s been quite the gift the last few months, I’ll give you that,” Benedict hummed, his fingers lazily rubbing shapes on the top of her arm. “But I’m afraid that title still falls to the gift from last year.”

Framed perfectly atop the crib of their precious baby girl was the rendition of their home, the one (Y/N) had worked so hard on a year prior. While it had looked a bit more polished after Benedict offered his wife some very well needed advice, it was still lopsided and patchy, but very much full of love. He had hung it two weeks later, after it had completely dried and framed, causing his wife to sob tears of joy on the placement.

Their daughter was born only nine months after.

“Our Cottage,” she sighed happily.

“Our Cottage,” Benedict kissed her temple, looking down at his daughter and back at his beautiful wife. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #hi i love b.b and no one can stop me #if anyone wants some wine with a side of this CHEESE come and see me

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