#also i don’t mind that a man initiated us meeting!! i see it more like a man doing a favour/something good for us yk? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cleo-fox · 11 months ago

Text

Conquer

Part 2 of 5

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: The king intends to take a bride. You just never thought it would be you. (Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Chapter Summary: It’s no surprise that Loki has a gift for talking dirty and you wish that it didn’t work as well as it does. You wish that—for example—it were a little more challenging for him to talk you into letting him get you off in the limo on your way to a gala event hosted by the Swedish government.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

Chapter Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, dirty talk, praise kink, edging, teasing, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, orgasm delay, semi-public sex, light Dom/sub. (see series masterlist for series warnings)

A/N: I realize that the GIF I'm using for this chapter is TVA!Loki, but the attitude is very much in keeping with this chapter, so I decided to forgo accuracy in favor of thirst. Also, you may be thinking "Part 2 of 5? I thought this was going to be 3 chapters!" Me too. Welcome to what it's like being in my brain: even I don't know what's going on here.

The wedding night isn’t the end of the sex, of course.

The immediate, sharp need for your first coupling is gone, but there’s a dull and persistent ache that keeps you coming back to his bed every night (and several times during the day). Loki is equally ravenous, if not more so.

While you’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re going to fuck him, you still don’t like being the one to initiate sex. It sounds silly, but it feels like admitting to a vulnerability that you’re not prepared to acknowledge, let alone act on.

The problem is that your sex drive has skyrocketed since the wedding.

You’ve heard about this happening—the saying soulbonds are meant to be consummated, but some are more thorough than others didn’t come out of nowhere. You just didn’t think it would be a problem for you, especially once you found out who your soulmate was.

You were wrong about this, of course—you are constantly horny. Your mind is a cineplex of perversion, constantly playing memories of the times that he has fucked you, ways he might fuck you next, his hands, his lips, his tongue, his annoyingly perfect cock. It makes you want to run your brain through the washing machine, like a couple of Tide pods and an extra rinse cycle might fix this.

But the part that drives you crazy is that he always seems to know when you’re in these moods and he always manages to claim the upper hand. It is—like so many things with Loki—profoundly irritating.

It’s all physical—your conversations are limited to the mundane or the utterly filthy. It’s no surprise that Loki has a gift for talking dirty and you wish that it didn’t work as well as it does. You wish that—for example—it were a little more challenging for him to talk you into letting him get you off in the limo on your way to a gala event hosted by the Swedish government.

You can feel his gaze caressing your body as you walk down the stairs to meet him. Your dress is gold and glittery, and hugs your curves while the slit sneaks just high enough that you know the fashion blogs will call it daring. You keep your eyes on your feet and your hand on the railing as you navigate the stairs in your heels. Normally, Loki would comment on that—something about how you needed proper education in comportment, you were a queen, queens don’t stare at their feet, people expected elegance, blah, blah, blah. Tonight, though, he’s silent as he takes you in, which you know means that he’s particularly enchanted by how you look. For a brief moment, you allow yourself to feel sexy and confident, to enjoy the fact that the most powerful man on the planet has been rendered speechless by how you look.

Are you ridiculously horny? Sure, but you’ve got it under control. You can hold out for an evening and you’re pretty sure Loki hasn’t figured it out. If he had, he almost certainly would have said something inappropriate when he offered you his arm. He’s probably going to be distracted by the gala anyway. Why had you ever doubted yourself?

When the two of you get into the limo, you remember why.

The moment the door shuts behind you, Loki is pulling you close, his hands cupping your breasts and then sliding down to your thighs while his lips latch on to the spot where your neck and shoulder meet.

“What are you doing?” you ask, as though his intentions are in any way unclear.

“You need to come. I can smell you.” He’s hiking up the fabric of your dress.

Well. So much for him not noticing.

Your cunt clenches. “We’re in public.”

“Those windows are tinted and the partition is up.” His breath is warm on your neck as the fabric of your dress pools around your waist.

“I can still wait.”

“Oh, I don’t think you can.” His fingers slip between your legs (when did you spread your legs for him?), gently grazing the gusset of your underwear, which you know is embarrassingly wet. “Soaked already,” he breathes, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. “You need to come.”

“I-I c-can—I can wait until—oh fuck.”

He pushes the fabric of your underwear aside and lightly teases your clit with the tip of his finger.

“You can’t,” he rasps, lightly nipping at your earlobe. “You’re such a greedy, needy little thing. Your cunt is insatiable.”

He presses his first three fingers together and rubs your clit in a big, broad circle that makes your back arch.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your hands flexing against the seat. “Fuck, just like that.”

“I thought you said you could wait?” he says with that mocking lilt to his voice, the one that makes you simultaneously want to punch him in the face and also ride him hard and fast and a little rough.

“Shut up,” you grit out.

He laughs low in your ear. “Oh, you don’t mean that, I know you love it when I talk you through it.”

You hate that he’s right.

“You love hearing about how tight and wet you are, how hard I am for you.” He drops his voice lower. “How hard I’m going to fuck you.”

You can’t help the quiet moan that falls from your lips.

“Yes, you love it when I talk to you like this,” he purrs. “And I love hearing what an utterly filthy, wicked girl you are.”

You whimper, despite your best efforts to keep quiet.

“Oh, I like that little noise,” he says, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Let me hear you.”

“I hate you so much.”

You’ve said this to him before and like all the other times, he simply laughs. “Hate me all you like, darling, but you and I both know that you love what I do to you.”

You bite your lip and try to focus on the pleasure that’s rising in your hips.

“Has anyone ever made you come as hard as I do?” he muses, like he’s just making casual conversation. “From the way that you scream and beg for it, I imagine that there haven’t been very many that were capable. Your cunt has quite clearly been neglected.”

You’re going to ignore what he’s saying. That’s what you’re going to do. There’s no reason to listen to any of what he’s saying.

“The truth is that you need me, don’t you?” he says, nipping at your ear. “You need me because I know exactly what to do to sate your needy little cunt. I know exactly how to make you scream.”

You hate how close you are, hate how the impending rush of your orgasm has basically rendered you speechless, save for a few incoherent whimpers.

He brings his lips close to your ear, lowering his voice to a growl. “What would those pitiful Midgardians say if they knew their queen was such a needy little slut?”

Instead of delivering a stern rebuke, you come hard. Incredibly hard—it is arguably one of the most intense orgasms he’s given you yet, blazing through your body with a ferocity that leaves you shaking in its wake.

And he notices.

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” he purrs as he rubs you through the aftershocks. “I felt how hard you came, how utterly desperate you are for me to fuck you.”

“Loki, please,” you breathe.

He tugs at your underwear. “Take this off.”

Your first instinct is to challenge him, but the fabric is now uncomfortably damp and you desperately need him to fuck you, so you lift your hips and slide your underwear down and off your legs without any complaint. He takes it from you and sticks it in his pocket.

You expect to hear the clink of his belt buckle followed by his silky smooth voice ordering you to sink down on his unfairly perfect cock. Even though you’ve just come, you want more. You always do with him.

(You decide not to think too much about that last part).

Instead, though, he smooths his hair and settles back into his seat, looking out the window. After a moment, you clear your throat expectantly.

He glances at you, utterly casual. “What is it?”

Your eyes narrow. He’s playing dumb and you both know it.

“You made me take off my underwear,” you say, biting back a sharper reply.

“I did.”

“So…fuck me.”

He gives an amused little chuckle that makes your palm itch to slap him. “Darling, we’re in public, that would be unseemly.”

You roll your eyes before you can stop yourself. “You’re full of it.”

His gaze turns smoldering and stern. “And if you want to be full of my cock later tonight, you’ll change your attitude.”

You’re not sure if it’s the absence of underwear that makes you feel more aroused than usual or if he’s awakened some latent perversion you were previously unaware of. Possibly, it’s both.

Your breath hitches and he smiles like he knows he has the upper hand.

“Do you want that?” he says. “Do you want me to fill your tight little cunt with my big cock?”

You’re so far gone that you find yourself nodding before the thought of being contrary can even cross your mind.

“Well, then,” he says, flicking an invisible speck of dust from his tuxedo jacket, “you’re going to have to earn it.”

You huff out an irritated sigh and yank the skirt of your dress back down. “You’re an ass,” you say with a scowl.

“And you’re going to do exactly as I tell you or you won’t be coming at all.”

You stare at him, lips parted in the start of a complaint.

“And however much your pretty cunt is aching right now, I imagine it will be twice as worse tomorrow with no release,” he says. “If I’m feeling generous, of course. I could always make you wait longer.”

You close your mouth, biting back the urge to scowl.

He smirks. “That’s my good girl.”

Your cunt throbs. By the end of the night, your thighs will surely be sticky with your own arousal.

“This is unfair,” you grumble, crossing your arms and sitting back in your seat.

“Behave,” he says as you approach a rather impressive set of gates. “We’re almost there.”

A flick of his wrist sends seidr racing along your skin, smoothing your hair, straightening your dress, and fixing the smudge of lipstick at the corner of your mouth.

Your underwear remains in his pocket.

You have a feeling it’s going to be a long evening.

The Minister for Finance is giving a presentation. You’re not entirely sure that you would have been able to follow it under normal circumstances, but certainly not with Loki’s hand up your dress.

The two of you are seated at your own table—it’s one of the more stupid formalities he insists on, though you suppose it’s advantageous in this instance. His actions are obscured by the table and tablecloth and probably a little magic, but your heart is still racing with the thrill of it. His movements have been slow and deliberate, and the result is that he’s effectively been edging you for the duration of this forty-five minute presentation.

It feels incredible; it’s agony. You love it; you hate it.

“You’re being a very good girl,” Loki murmurs to you at one point and that alone nearly sends you over the edge.

“You’re a jackass,” you whisper back to him.

He chuckles. “If you want me to let you come once we get home, I’d suggest changing your tone, my love.”

You resist the urge to scowl, but only barely. “You made me come in the limo over here because you said I couldn’t wait,” you point out. “What happened to that philosophy?”

“It was supplanted by a desire to see what happens when I tease you for several hours.” A wicked smile curls at his lips. “Besides, I love how tight and desperate your cunt feels when I make you beg for me.”

You always come hardest when he makes you beg for him. You’d never admit it, though.

“I’d think you’d be more concerned about getting caught,” you say. “What do you think that would do to your image?”

“Oh, I think it would do wonders for my image,” he says. “Attentively tending to my wife’s needs despite potential social embarrassment? It’s rather feminist of me, don’t you think?”

“Okay, first of all, that is not what femini—” Your voice cuts out as he rolls his finger in a particularly devastating circle.

“What was that, my love?” he asks, voice thick with faux concern, his true intent easily betrayed by his shit eating grin. “You seem distracted.”

You’re not entirely sure if you’re tensing your muscles in anticipation of an orgasm or in an effort to stave it off. “You’re awful.”

His voice drops. “But I’m making you feel so very good, aren’t I?”

You take a deep breath, trying to soothe the tightening knot in your belly, even as your body is begging you to rush toward it.

“Aren’t I?” His tone turns stern and you hear the implied order loud and clear.

“Yes,” you bite out.

“Yes what?”

You swallow. You’re starting to get close, closer than he’s let you get so far. “Yes, you’re making me feel good.”

He smirks. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?”

You nod, taking another deep breath through your nose. Keep it together.

“I could let you come,” he muses. “Everyone’s watching the presentation. You could be quiet, couldn’t you?” His pace increases just slightly, enough for you to start to feel the tempting, shimmery tendrils of release. “Do you want that, lovely?”

It’s not a good idea, but you nod anyway.

“I had no idea you were so filthy.” His fingers are massaging your clit more firmly and you bite back a gasp because you know it won’t be long. You’re trying to keep a straight face, but you’re struggling. You are so deliciously close.

“Are you going to come for me?” he asks quietly. He knows the answer.

You nod, not trusting your voice.

But just as you’re about to start to tip over the edge, Loki’s hand retreats and the building pressure in your hips diminishes back to that steady, throbbing ache just as the Minister for Finance concludes his presentation.

Loki is smirking like he expected this. “Ah. Unfortunate timing.”

You may kill him.

“You did that on purpose, you ass,” you hiss at him.

“Oh, you’ll thank me for it later,” he says, his voice dropping low.

You scowl at him, though you suspect he’s probably right.

You get a slight reprieve during dinner, but only in the sense that Loki’s hand is no longer up your dress. Your aching arousal remains, coating the inside of your thighs. Your heartbeat seems to be pulsing in your clit, the muscles of your cunt aching as they clench repeatedly around nothing.

While his hand is no longer up your dress, Loki continues to be as unhelpful as possible.

“Shall I let you unravel on my tongue?” he murmurs to you during the main course. “Or do you need my cock first?”

“I think you need to stop talking,” you say as evenly as you can muster.

“Whatever for?” he asks with the sort of feigned innocence that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Surely you’re not concerned that I’m going to make you come simply by telling you what I want to do to you.”

You take a slow sip of your water.

“Or perhaps that idea appeals to you?” he asks, dropping his voice even lower. “Do you want me to make you come in front of all of these people?”

There’s something about the idea that’s admittedly appealing in a taboo sort of way, though you aren’t quite sure you actually want to pursue it or if you’re just so desperate that even objectively bad ideas sound good.

“Truly, I doubt you could keep quiet,” he says. “You and I both know how much you like to scream for me and I’ve been teasing you for what, three hours now? But perhaps that’s what you want. You were about to come for me earlier. Perhaps you want them all to know what a needy little sl—ah, Stefan! So good to see you again.”

Loki has seamlessly directed his attention to the Swedish official who has approached your table. His ability to be charming and personable is irritating, particularly when he’s often been uttering absolute filth to you mere seconds before. Meanwhile, your brain has completely short circuited—your thoughts stopped being anywhere near coherent when he started touching you under the table during that presentation and your cunt is pulsing. You manage a polite smile and a pleasantly vague expression that you hope hides the fact that all you can think about is Loki throwing you down on the table and fucking you until you can’t walk straight and you’ve screamed yourself hoarse.

“You conducted yourself quite well,” Loki says softly once the man leaves. “I’d never have guessed that you’re hiding such a needy, sloppy cunt under that dress.”

You take a deep breath. “What’s to stop me from slipping off somewhere and taking care of things myself?”

His eyes flash a little dangerously and you hate how much it thrills you. “If you do that, I’ll see to it that you don’t come for a week. At least.”

You are irritated with him, certainly, but you are far more irritated with yourself for being even remotely aroused by his words.

“You’re insufferable,” you hiss instead.

Loki smirks and leans in to whisper in your ear. “We’ll see how you feel a few hours from now when I’m buried in your tight cunt.” His breath ghosts over your ear and it takes everything in you not to shiver. “I suspect I’ll find you much more agreeable. You always are when you need to be fucked.” His voice drops even lower. “And I know how much you need it.”

Your legs are shaking and you wonder how you’re going to make it through the rest of the evening.

You almost come during the concert.

It was probably easier for them to set up the orchestra on the same stage as the presentation, but it means that you’re still sitting at the same table as before, which gives Loki more than enough cover to continue touching you. His hand is creeping back up your dress before the oboe even plays the tuning note and while he’s still going slowly, it’s been four and a half hours and your body is aching for release in a way you have rarely felt.

His fingertip skates across your clit just a little too quickly and firmly and suddenly, you’re poised right on the edge. One more stroke of his fingers, just one more slight movement and you’ll come.

It’s a split second decision, so quick you can scarcely think twice about it. You desperately want to come, but even though you almost let it happen earlier, you know that a stifled public orgasm isn’t really what you want. You want him to hear you scream—you don’t want to hold back.

And you want to be good for him. You want him to reward you for being good, you want to be his good girl—

You shake your head to dismiss that thought and grab his wrist in a silent warning. Quickly, he moves his hand away, sliding it to your knee. Your cunt shudders and aches, the pulsing throb of your arousal even stronger than before.

He brushes his lips against your ear. “Oh, very good, darling. You’ll be rewarded for that.”

“You could reward me now and take me home,” you say pointedly, though it would probably be more effective if your voice wasn’t so shaky.

He chuckles, draping his arm around your shoulders. Every so often, you’ve seen a candid photo of the two of you in People or one of the other celebrity magazines and you’re always taken aback by how normal you look. You imagine that it would be the same if someone were to take a photo right now—you’d look like just another couple cuddling and canoodling instead of…whatever it is you actually are. Soulmates who hate each other but fuck like it’s their job and the rent is due? There’s no easy way to classify your relationship, which you suppose is for the best: this is not the sort of thing that should be common enough to have its own word.

“We still have quite a bit to go.” He brings his index finger—the same one that had just been up your dress—up to his lips and closes his eyes like he’s tasting something divine. “Norns, I can taste how desperate you are.”

You cross your legs in the hope that it will alleviate the pulsing ache between your thighs (it doesn’t). “You’re not helping.”

“Of course I’m not,” he says. “I told you, I want you begging for me by the end of the night.”

“How have I not already exceeded that threshold?”

He smirks. “I like to be thorough.”

Five minutes later, his hand is back between your thighs.

“Let’s try that again,” he murmurs. “Do you think you’ll be able to resist a second time?”

Somehow, you do—and two more times after that. By the end of the concert, your heart is pounding, your legs feel like rubber, your cunt is dripping, and you’d easily sell your soul for an orgasm.

“You’re doing so well, darling,” says Loki. He’s been full of praise and filthy promises and you can’t decide if that makes it better or worse.

“Can we please go home?”

He chuckles. “Of course not, that would be rude.”

“I have a hard time believing you’re concerned about rudeness, considering where your hands have been this evening,” you say with a pointed look.

“You wound me.” He stands and offers you his hand. You take it grudgingly, your legs wobbling slightly. “Now. Come help me charm the Minister for Defense. I need him to be much more cooperative about sharing intelligence.”

The only good thing about schmoozing with Swedish officials is that Loki can’t have his hand up your dress while doing so. Even so, he still finds ways to be constantly touching you—a hand on your lower back, your elbow, your shoulder, your waist. These things shouldn’t be erotic, but he somehow manages to make them so. Every brush of his fingers against your bare skin is agony: you are burning for him.

You watch the clock tick through another hour and a half while trying not to let anyone on to the fact that you’re keen to leave. Time feels like it’s dragging—even when the event officially ends, it still takes another thirty-seven minutes for you to say your farewells and make your way out to the front where your limo is waiting.

Your legs are shaking as Loki helps you into the limo. He slides into the seat next to you and you find yourself leaning into him, unable to resist any longer.

The door shuts.

“Loki—” you start to say.

“When we get home,” he says promptly.

“You can’t possibly—”

“Oh, I can.” He pulls you into his lap. “I’ve been hard for you all evening,” he purrs in your ear, settling you so that the thick column of his cock presses hard against your ass. “Do you know how many times I nearly dragged you off to some empty room to take you up against the wall?” He brings his mouth down against your neck, teeth pressing against your skin just hard enough to almost hurt. You tilt your head to the side to give him better access, guiding his hands to your spread thighs.

“Do you know why I didn’t?” he murmurs against your skin.

“Because you make terrible choices?” you say before you can think it through.

His low laugh rumbles deliciously against your throat. “No.” His hands slip underneath the hem of your dress, fingertips skating along the tender skin of your inner thigh. Your hips roll forward almost unconsciously, your breath hitching.

“I didn’t because I know that you need to scream for me,” he says. “Just as much as I need to hear you.” His fingertip grazes your slit. “And you know that we can’t do that properly in the car.” His finger strokes your clit and you moan. “Poor thing,” he murmurs, tracing a slow circle over the sensitive skin. “I don’t think that I’ve ever made you this wet.”

“Loki—”

“I’m not giving you permission to come yet,” he murmurs, adding just a little more pressure. “I need you to be good for just a little longer.”

You let out a whine that you’re not at all proud of as he moves his hand away to gently massage your inner thighs. “Loki, please.”

“Be good.” His voice promises pleasure and punishment and everything in between and you feel drunk with desire.

“I’ve been so good,” you say, bringing his hand back to your cunt. “Please just let me come.”

“When we get home.”

“Just once. Please.”

He chuckles and brings his lips up to your ear. “You know that I’m going to take care of you,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “You know I always take care of your needy cunt. I always make you come. You just need to wait a little longer.”

“I need to come now.”

“Think about how good it’s going to feel if you wait just a little longer.”

“It would feel good now.”

“It will feel even better in our bed.” He rolls his fingers in a slow circle on your clit. “You know it will.”

You whimper, rolling your hips with his hand.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this desperate,” he says. “I’m rather partial to it.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you grumble.

“Oh, I’d advise you watch your tone, darling,” he says low in your ear, sliding a finger inside you, his thumb taking up the rhythm on your clit. “I don’t want to deny you, but I may have to if you keep being so pert.”

As if to make a point, he slides another finger inside of you and you find yourself once again on the edge. You grab his wrist, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you try to hold back the rising tide within you.

“Oh, good fucking girl,” he growls and the pride in his voice makes your cunt clench hard on his retreating fingers. “You want to come so badly, but you’re being so good waiting for my permission.”

“God, this had better be worth it,” you say as you wait for the pulsing ache between your thighs to recede.

“It will be,” he murmurs against your neck. “You know it will be.” He shifts you in his lap so you face him and guides your hand to his cock. “Do you feel how hard you’ve made me? I’m aching for you.”

You rub his shaft, working your way up to catch the tab of his zipper between your fingers. He looks at you, eyes hungry, a smirk curling at his lips.

Slowly, you pull down the zipper.

“Oh you wicked thing,” he purrs, a low groan escaping him as you wrap your hand around his shaft and slowly begin stroking him. He’s rock hard and throbbing, and your hand quickly grows slick with his precome.

You lean in, brushing your lips against his ear. “I want you to fuck me,” you say, flicking your tongue against his earlobe.

He chuckles. “Are you trying to flip the tables on me, darling?”

You’re a little miffed that he figured that out so quickly. “Would that be so bad if I was?”

He laughs again. “You’re adorable.” He slides a hand along your inner thigh and back under your dress. “But I think we both know who’s really in charge here.”

Even the possibility of his hand touching your cunt has your breath quickening and your hand faltering in its rhythm on his cock.

You’re not about to admit defeat, though.

“Don’t you want to fuck me?” you say, trying to keep the quaver out of your voice. You give his cock a few long, indulgent strokes. “We’re nearly there already. All I’d need to do is move a little closer.”

He chuckles, his hand sliding up to lightly tease your folds. “I would have made you warm my cock the whole ride back,” he says casually, like he’s commenting on the weather, “but I don’t think you could have done it without coming. You’re too sensitive.”

Your lips part like you have something to say, but all rational thought and the entirety of the English language has fled your brain and even more arousal is pooling between your legs.

Loki smirks like he knows all of this and he briefly strokes you from your entrance to your clit before withdrawing. “Ah, we’re nearly home,” he says, moving your hand away and patting your thigh before tucking himself back into his trousers. “Let’s make ourselves presentable, shall we?”

You climb off his lap and straighten your dress, but don’t even bother trying to fix your hair or makeup. You stumble out of the car a minute later, hoping that you don’t look like you’ve spent the entire evening poised on the brink of orgasm.

Loki, of course, is annoyingly put together. He wraps an arm around your waist and leads you forward.

“Oh, the things I’m going to do to you when we get to our rooms,” he says under his breath as you make your way into the foyer.

“That had better be a promise,” you say.

“I thought we established that I’m the one who gives you orders—”

“We established nothing—”

One of his advisors—Sigurd, the same one who spoke to you in the hotel when he found you—is approaching Loki at a brisk clip.

“Your majesty—”

Loki barely takes his eyes off of you. “Later,” he says, waving a hand in Sigurd’s direction.

“Sire, it’s urgent.”

Your heart sinks. Loki stops and turns to Sigurd, eyes sharp, mouth pulled into a firm line. “It had better be.”

Despite the intensity of Loki’s expression, Sigurd looks unbothered and remarkably calm. “We received new intelligence on the matter you inquired about earlier, your majesty.”

Loki’s expression darkens and you realize with a sinking sensation that he has to go deal with whatever this is. “A moment,” he says to Sigurd before turning to you.

He lowers his voice so that only you can hear him. “Go to our rooms,” he murmurs. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You nod and he leans in, brushing his lips against your temple. “Be good for me.”

A thrill runs through you.

By the time you get back to your rooms, though, you’re a little annoyed. He’s been teasing you for hours and when you finally get home, he suddenly has another work thing?

It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so frustrating.

Though admittedly, he did look pretty surprised and annoyed by Sigurd’s sudden appearance. It’s probably not fair to blame him for that.

Probably.

You take your time getting undressed, mainly in the hope that it will somehow hasten his return or trick you into thinking time is passing quickly. Not that you’re looking forward to him returning for any reason other than sex. You still hate him—you just really need him to fuck you. That’s all it is.

You hesitate for a long time over the collection of silk nightgowns in your wardrobe. Should you put something on? Should you just wait naked on the bed? A silky green number catches your eye. He’d probably like that. He’s pretty predictable when it comes to that sort of thing—put on his colors and he goes feral. With any luck you won’t be wearing it for very long, but you might as well do what you can to facilitate that outcome.

You contemplate underwear and decide there’s little point, given that tonight’s set is still tucked into his pocket.

You situate yourself in the middle of your bed and try not to think about your throbbing cunt. It would be so easy to get yourself off, but you know that it won’t be as good.

You need him.

You try to ignore the thought. It’s just physical. That’s all it is. You’re on edge from being teased all evening. It doesn’t mean anything.

You wait.

It’s late when you finally hear the door click open, followed by the tap of his dress shoes on the floor.

You sit up in bed, your eyes roving greedily over him. His suit jacket is gone and his tie is draped around his neck, shirtsleeves rolled up. You are loath to admit it, but it’s incredibly hot.

Before you can even get any words out, he’s striding across the room, eyes hungrier than you’ve ever seen them. His clothes disappear the second he hits the bed, followed swiftly by your nightgown. Seconds later, he’s on top of you, mouth seeking yours, cock pressing insistently against your stomach. Your hands are just as greedy, skimming up his back and combing through his hair.

“Have you been good for me?” he murmurs as he nudges your thighs apart.

“Yes.”

“Did you touch yourself?” he asks, his voice stern.

“No,” you say.

He knows you’re not lying and the hungry smile he gives you almost makes it all feel worth it. “Good girl,” he growls. “Do you want me to fuck you now?”

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he drags his cock through your slickness. “Please.”

He chuckles as he lines himself up at your entrance. “I know, darling, I’m going to take such good care of you.”

Your cunt is so slick and sensitive from his hours of teasing that just the act of him sliding inside of you feels like you’ve reached your own personal nirvana.

“Oh, fuck.” Your voice comes out in a whimper and your legs tighten around his waist to hold him in place because he feels so overwhelmingly good.

Loki lets out a low groan as he eases inside you, catching his lower lip between his teeth as his brow furrows. “Perfect.” He leans in to kiss you as he starts to move. His first thrust is slow but even so, it draws a whimper from your throat. He’s always felt good, but this is transcendent.

“Oh god, please don’t stop,” you gasp.

“I won’t, my love.” His voice is tender as he moves with an aching, slow precision. “Not until you’ve had your fill.”

For the first time this evening, you let down your guard. Every time he’s touched you tonight—even before the gala in the limo—you’ve had to hold back to some degree. You haven’t been able to give into it, to let yourself be completely unbound and unguarded. But now when he’s moving inside of you, you have the freedom to just be and feel and it’s exquisite. Every thrust of his hips, every reverent caress of his hands, every sigh or groan is an opportunity to discover a new kind of heaven.

“You were magnificent tonight,” he murmurs, sliding his hand between your bodies to rub your clit. “Even with my fingers playing with your pretty cunt under the table, you looked every inch a queen. My queen.”

He’s never talked to you like this before and it makes your body sing. You arch, rolling your hips with him as the building wave inside you rises impossibly high, as though every orgasm you almost had this evening is starting to arrive all at once. The tension in your hips is equally fantastic and unbearable, a supernova of sensation that may destroy and remake you all at once.

“Filthy girl, I can tell you’re getting close,” he purrs, tilting his hips so he hits the spot that makes you tremble. “You act so prim and proper in public, but it takes so very little to turn you into my perfect little slut when I get you alone.”

You are approaching the peak, the whirling center of the storm building inside you. “Loki—please, I can’t, I’m gonna—”

“That’s it, darling. Soak my cock like a good girl.”

You always come the hardest when he’s inside you and this is no exception. The pressure in your hips is suddenly and spectacularly ablaze with a shimmering euphoria that draws a raw and primal moan deep from inside your chest. You are a fountain of sparks, all the tension and desire of the evening finally reaching its apex. You have yearned for this all night and the resulting blaze is spectacular.

His pace is still slow, but Loki’s eyes are wild and you get the sense that his composure is hanging by a thread. Though his eyes occasionally flutter shut as your cunt convulses around him, his gaze is locked on you in a kind of wonder.

“Do you have any idea how good you feel when you come on my cock?” he rasps.

Even in the throes of utter bliss, you need to hear his voice. “Tell me.”

“I would create entire worlds and walk through the fires of their destruction just to feel you come.”

You shudder out a sigh. “More.”

He picks up his pace just slightly. “I would flatten mountains and raise valleys and reverse the currents.”

“More.”

He’s hitting that aching spot inside you again and the rolling tremors of the aftershocks are starting to coalesce into another building wave. You moan and his hand moves back to your clit, slick fingers pressing and rolling in just the way you need.

His eyes shine, bright with lust as his hips and fingers work diligently to unravel you again. “I would take down the stars and bring the heavens to the earth…”

His words are making you dizzy and his movements are coaxing the pressure inside of you into a cyclone that you know is going to take you down.

“Loki, please.” These are the only words you know because your entire world is him moving inside of you, inevitable as the sunrise, the architect of the heavenly destruction and renewal that is building and building in your hips.

He shifts so his weight is entirely on his elbows, bringing his lips up against your ear so you don’t miss a single word. “I would lay my crown at your feet and forsake my name…just to feel you come on my cock.”

The coil in your hips snaps and unfurls into a starry, sparkling oblivion that has you crying out his name over and over like he’s your ending and beginning, the center of your universe. Your eyes are shut against the onslaught of intense sensation, but you can feel him reaching the blissful height he’d been speaking of. He groans and slurs out a few incoherent oaths before succumbing to you and filling your pulsing cunt with his hot release.

His mouth is on yours and he’s kissing you like he means it as he slows to a halt. You lie together for a long moment, hearts beating wildly against each other.

This felt different than other times. There was an intensity there that had nothing to do with the sex. You don’t know what that means, other than it’s definitely not any kind of feelings for him. It must be something else. You’re certain it’s something else.

“I didn’t realize I’d be called away upon our return.”

You’re so distracted by your thoughts that the sound of his voice startles you slightly.

“Oh, um, yeah, I figured…it seemed unexpected,” you say.

He lifts his head to look at you, green eyes intent. “Trust that there are very few things that could have pulled me away from you in that moment.”

He’s being sincere. It’s not what you expect and that scares you a little, though you can’t quite articulate why. The idea that he would care whether you thought he’d intentionally extended your wait hadn’t even occurred to you. You don’t really know this side of him.

“So, it wasn’t like…making a proclamation designating June National Peanut Butter Month.” You know you’re deflecting, but you don’t know what else to do.

He frowns. “That can’t possibly be a real thing.”

You shrug. “It might be. Lots of governments do stuff like that. Maybe you should consider it.”

His smile is slight, but brief as he stretches and slowly eases out of you. “I will leave that to others.”

There’s a beat of quiet and you suddenly find yourself desperate to fill the silence. “What did they need to talk to you about?”

He looks at you sharply and you wonder if this was the wrong thing to say. Loath as you are to admit it, this conversation has fostered a flicker of warmth between you, a fact you only notice now because of its sudden absence.

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he says as he rolls off of you. It’s not unkind, but it’s also not warm, and the discussion is clearly closed.

Part of you mourns the loss of that little spark of closeness, but a larger, louder part is intent on pretending it never existed in the first place.

“Suit yourself.”

You’re annoyed and you roll off the bed and go about your evening routine with a little more clattering and stomping than is strictly necessary. There’s a lump in your throat that you don’t understand and you’re full of feelings you can’t define. You eventually settle on the bed with your back facing him, glaring at the wall like he can see you.

But then he reaches for you in the darkness, his arms winding around your waist, nose nuzzling against the nape of your neck as he pulls you to his chest. And instead of reading him the riot act, you let him hold you and let yourself relax into his embrace, fingers twining around his. You sleep better like this, you tell yourself. That’s the only reason you’re allowing it. It’s nothing to do with him.

You’ve told yourself that every night since your wedding and every night, it gets a little more difficult to believe.

Next chapter

#loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki laufeyson smut #loki x female reader smut #loki fanfiction #conquer

669 notes · View notes

spiriteddreams · 1 year ago

Text

thinking about sassy and teasing boxer!wrio... f!reader, slightly cheesy flirting (as you can imagine)

thinking about boxer!wrio, a frequent at the gym that your father, former lawyer neuvillette, owns. you decide to spend some more time with your father to help run the gym when you meet wriothesely, the sassy, uncrowned champion of the boxing ring.

initially he takes no care that you’re around, he figures you’re just someone neuvillette ended up hiring to help out around the place part time. you’re interesting, he’ll give you that, with the way you walk around far too comfortably as if you know the place like the back of your hand. and you talk to neuvillette with such familiarity, dare he say informality, that he can’t help but wonder who you are. and the moment he discovers that you’re his neuvillette’s daughter, suddenly he’s even more intrigued. and he can’t help but start talking to you more, about school and work and everything in between. he tries to get you to call him “your grace,” the nickname he’s garnered after climbing up the ranks but each time, you roll your eyes and tell him off. it only spurs him further.

but conversation continues with each time you meet and he tells you about what he’s what to outside of the ring, while slowly taking note of all the little things you say and your mannerisms when you’re grinning up at him from behind the front desk or when you’re watching him and some of the others train in the ring. and after awhile, he can’t help but start to like you, not just because you’re pretty, but also because you don’t take his shit. and even when you do, you throw it back right in his face.

“take your words to the ring, i have no intention of humoring you, wriothesley,” you sigh behind the front desk computer, which hides an open notebook full of notes and annotations. he loves the way his name sounds from your lips, drawing out each syllable as if trying to taste it. you say his name with exasperation and slight annoyance, but he can still catch that hint of amusement in your tone.

his flirty approaches might have initially been met with a flustered look on your face, but not you don’t even bat an eye at his sly comments. neuvillette however, shoots wrio a glare everytime he starts to say something he thinks could be flirtatious.

boxer!wrio, who comes in one early morning to help bring in some new equipment for the gym. and you’re sitting with your father at the front, drinking water and chatting when wrio walks in, shirtless, muscles on full display, sweaty and oh so gorgeous and you can’t help but choke on your drink, so clearly staring at the view.

“put on a shirt young man!” neuvilette’s thundering voice echoes throughout the room.

and much to his dismay, wrio is feeling particularly dangerous that day and says, “but i think she’s quite enjoying the view.” you feel your face warm as your father glares at you before turning back to give wrio a piece of his mind, already telling him off as he follows the boxer towards the back room where he can place down the boxes and then be chewed out by your father. but wrio thinks it’ll all be worth it because your expression was priceless.

he's used to people ogling him when he's training or fighting in the ring, whether or not he has a shirt on. but he can't help but sneak a look whenever you're around, trying to catch your wandering eyes to see if you're eyeing him too. and when he does catch you, he straightens up, tilts his head and throws you an arrogant smile.

"see something you like, princess?" he calls out boldly. other customers either look away or chuckle at the now familiar sight and sound of wrio's teasing. the times when neuvillette is there, he snaps at the boxer sharply then turns to you, eyes twitching with annoyance as he tells you to get back to work. you know he means well, and you know wrio only does it to rile up your father. and to flirt, you suppose.

boxer!wrio, who, one afternoon on his way out, makes sure to stop by the front desk to linger around you. it just so happens that you’re getting ready to leave for the day. fresh from a rinse with hair dripping wet and wolfish grin plastered across his face, wrio leans over the front desk, cocky as ever and asks if you’d like to grab a bite with him. he catches sight of the way your eyes narrow and quickly flicker over to where your father stands on the other side of the gym, working with another customer. for a second he thinks you might bail, but much to his delight your shoulders loosen and you smile at him and say, “where are we off to, your grace?”

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 a/n: i have SO many more boxer!wrio thoughts to share hehe

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #genshin impact wriothesley #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

581 notes · View notes

satoruhour · 2 years ago

Note

racer jjk are so good 😩 i wonder if u can make a part two where is explain how the boys (gojo, geto, nanami, toji) and the reader first met. THANK YOUUU

a/n: thx baby glad u liked them 😉 here you go! also mb if this is lacklustre guys 🧍‍♀i didn’t wanna write smut bc it’d be too similar ig. fun little post! pls still support me 🥹 (nanami’s is a bit suggestive!) / pt.1 here

✶ GOJO

you actually meet his ass when he almost crashes into u and while making a difficult drift turn before swerving at the sight of you. plus surprise … you’re the police chief’s daughter. gojo at this point is still using a jacked up camaro, so it’s a wonder he’s able to still speed so well away from officers. but it’s not like he was running away from any crime, he just so happened to stumble across an interrogation of a fellow classmate initiated by the police chief’s son (your younger, cop worshipper brother). it was hardly an interrogation tho, more of a bully circle. gojos an cocky man but hes not entirely closed off from things happening around him. when theres people being wrongfully treated he steps in, but he’s pushing the limit a little running away from your brother and his police chief dad. especially when he’s got ties with the racing scene lol. bro doesnt exactly care tho, cause he knew the modifications he made to his engine he’s sure to get away lmaoooo.

there’s a rush of adrenaline that matches the exact moments when the first gear change happens and his foot presses down hard on the break, feeling the familiar sensation of the steering wheel under his fingers as he turns it to the right. nothing like a successful run of a difficult drift route, even more so with an annoying fucking kid chasing him. he was miles behind too, and gojo has to laugh out to himself in the driver’s seat before he yelps out at the shadow on the street.

“damn street lights. don’t even want to spend a few thousand to fix it,” he scoffs, thinking the figure would’ve apologised and ran away, but he’s a little pumped to see you, a relative of the very kid he was running away from. “don’t wanna chase me with daddy over there?”

you notice he’s nodding his head toward the incessant siren, your hotheaded father and your insufferable brother, two of them who butt heads all the time but still manage to get along. you couldn’t care less though, because of their arrogant, conceited behaviour; you vowed never to be like that. your father failed to raise you how he wanted you to turn out: dyed hair at sixteen, a stick ’n poke a year later, colluding with the “wrong” people (they were harmless, he just didn’t like them).

so he turned to your brother, corrupting his mind, and since then, you’ve been a ghost in the house, happy to even be ignored by the conservative kin that find people who are different a ’hassle’. with a story like this, gojo isn’t exactly clueless to your situation so he reaches over and opens the door to the passenger seat in a silent offer.

what’s a little salt in the wound, right?

gojo giggles when you slip in like he knew you would and you simply shrug, knowing this would seal the deal. you know you’re right when you hear furious honks from the police car which is quickly approaching, but watching gojo evade police on the news made you confident he’d outrun them every. single. time. “ooh, doesn’t sound good, princess. i’ll pick you up if you get kicked out of the house.”

it was such a dirty, rude comment that you would’ve slapped him but instead you just burst out laughing, weird noises and all before you’re patting the hand on his stick shift, “drive, hotshot.”

all you can do is roll your eyes with a smile, not missing the exhilarated smile and blush on his cheeks. you already feel at home in the 1969 camaro he’s driving, seeing the exact same car later that night when you’re waiting on the sidewalk with a bulk of your things.

“so much for being daddy’s girl.” gojo smiles, a little sickeningly that you want to punch him (you hear it’s like that from his friends and you find it to be true), but you accept the ride anyway, with a promise he’d get something more later.

✶ GETO

the first time you see him is before a race, having stumbled into the bustling underground of cars and the peak of 2000s fashion because you’re still navigating japan even after six months on an exchange program. it’s difficult when they have different parking lots for every monument building, which all look the same, mind you. it was like a puzzle for your poor mind, especially since there was tons of undocumented alleys in the area you were in. u immediately get hit by the smell of petrol and smoke and conversation and it’s like woah…. stepping entirely into a new world sort of??? even with his fame suguru stays humble tho, keeping gojo ans nanami close to him while keeping his distance from fangirls and stuff. shit gets messy !!!!

gojo nudges geto so hard he almost falls if not for his mazda behind him, and he’s ready to shoot a glare towards satoru but then he looks past the annoying man and into the crowd to find you, doe eyed and looking all around the place like a deer caught in headlights. you’re all dressed up in a cute get-up, hair framing your face so cutely he has half a mind to talk to you. plus, it’s clear you don’t belong here, and there isn’t anything wrong with that but the people here sometimes tend to be a tad bit… stuck-up.

there’s already a few in the crowd giving you weird looks and others giggling, clearly put off by the confused glances you exchange between your phone and the area. geto is prepared to head your way, but his resolve hardens when he sees todo and his gang start to approach the poor person who can only freeze in place.

geto pushes off his car immediately, completely disregarding whatever comment gojo was making while nanami watches silently. todo’s already asked you a question, and when you don’t answer, everyone knows the next thing he’ll do is to humiliate you, but not before geto interferes.

“she’s mine, aoi.” shoving him away, todo only scoffs and spits on the floor beside you because he can’t do anything except leave the place before anything escalates. it’s a clear rule, too, that anyone’s partner or significant other is off-limits, unless you want to propose a race to win them over — but even so it’s not that simple.

the murmurs only heighten when geto asks if you’re okay, a palm on your back to lead you away from the action of everything. thankfully, his mazda and the other two men are stationed at the corner, and the crowd’s attention slowly pulls away from you and onto the revving engines of the two competing cars.

“you okay?” geto looks down, shielding the bright car park lights and peeking a glance at where you were meant to go. it’s a quaint cafe in the basement of a building near shibuya square — a place which could be accessed by the parking lot, but it looks like you took an early turn and ended up in this one instead.

all you could muster up was a nod, mind going a hundred miles per hour just like those cars that were going to race; you’re more focused on his brown eyes that hold yours too well, though, dark and hypnotising that he has to repeat his question.

“yeah. for the most part, i guess. tha—” you mumble, but before you can bow and thank the man who’s already making a mark on your mind with his imposing stature, his friend chimes in.

“don’t mind aoi, he’s just intense like that.” you look past geto to see the white-haired racer who sports a bright grin, and to his side, a blonde, bored-looking guy who’s around the same age. “where you headed?”

geto waves a hand at them and cuts in as you answer, “i’ll take you. don’t mind those two idiots.” his sudden offer has your heart jumping just a bit; a mean brooding guy looking for a little cafe who’s holding a cinnamoroll event at the moment? what a sight to behold.

you’re all prepared to go when gojo tosses the keys to his mazda, and you’re thinking that maybe it really was further than expected but the man is soon leaning down to whisper into your ear.

“but before you go, want to watch me race?” geto grins, noticing that you’re at a loss for words again. you do that a lot, huh. it wouldn’t hurt to show off a little to get you absolutely speechless.

“i’ll treat you to whatever you want in that cute cafe, too.”

✶ NANAMI

ok the small drabble i wrote was sorta how they met but yes basically that!!!! nanami comes in at first (but you’re not doing much, just hanging around in the back), panicking cause he’s got an important race tmr (he just doesn’t gojo to win over whether he would have to borrow one of gojo’s dodge chargers) and hes like ? hes wondering what’s wrong with his dodge and when your dad mentions how he may need to order the parts his world falls apart fr 😭. and then he ends up borrowing it from gojo LMFAOOO. since you guys roughly know their meeting (nanami’s return to the shop after your father fixes the car and then eating you out wheeew) ill highlight life with nanami after that whole shebang!

you like to recall the first time you’ve met nanami, hardly a meeting, really, because you didn’t even see his face, but you hear his voice. a deep timbre with a seriousness to it that tells you that he could’ve fixed his own car if he tried and maybe just lacked the parts. however, you’re appalled when your father comes home later that night and tells you it was a dodge charger they were dealing with, a 1968 release that was no doubt passed down in his generation.

so when you’re peeking out of the supply room the second time nanami returns, you’re not surprised by his blonde hair, possibly a descendant of european blood, but had been born and raised in japan. it wasn’t uncommon, but it felt like he was such a specific ethnicity with the features he had. you’re right when you’re out with nanami a few weeks later, learning his grandfather was danish, smiling as he talked about his family.

it was by chance that he got into the racing scene, getting acquainted with gojo briefly because he was always infuriating in class — but then the both of them began to grow out of high school and entered university, introducing nanami to both geto, gojo’s best friend and to racing. it had made an impression on his heart immediately, reluctantly asking to ride in gojo’s car as they sped through the night and then trying his hand at it later.

“so geto-san was the one who taught you how to drift?” you ask from the passenger seat, a calm atmosphere surrounding the two of you as nanami takes you out for a casual drive along the freeway, bringing you to his favourite place to drift ever since he’s trained there. it was a clean ascent once he reaches the mountain, jogging over to open the door for you before sticking out a hand.

“thank you… kento,” you feel his hand tighten around yours, bringing you around to the front before leaning on the front of the car with you, the jangle of the bracelet he’s got you making noises when he pulls you into his side. it’s been a month with him, yet he already feels so committed, albeit stoic.

but you realise, in the midst of it, you’re the only one who can manage to pry a smile out of him, the lines on his face fading away when he picks you up from your dad’s shop. the loud engine is always an indicator, greeting him at the door of the garage as your father sends you off with a grin, leaning into the driver’s seat to press a peck through the window.

“when you say my name like that,” nanami mumbles, appreciating the scene with his lips in your hair; and while nanami is all soft and gentle with you, sometimes his carnal instincts get the best of him and he says the filthiest things, unprompted, “it makes me want to eat you out on the hood of my car again.”

you roll your eyes with a smile, because you’ve already done it twice: one in the shop and another in a secluded car park, but you know nanami hasn’t glutted his appetite for you yet, and he makes sure you know he never will.

✶ TOJI

the drabble previously mentioned how you were a little older megumi — through tutoring megumi, you met toji. it was a chance encounter sort of, u put up an ad at the end of your second year of uni since the winter break was a little longer than usual, so you decided to earn a bit of pocket money thru tutoring in the one subject you were most comfortable in: humanities. the syllabus in schools nowadays has become harder too, even going as far as to research papers and then scoff in disgust at the intensity of the questions lol … it’s routine in the school system to do that, gearing up for the questions you might be asked when u first get an enquiry call on the line. you hang up with a time and address and when u reach megumi opens the door, but toji emerges from his man cave (garage. hes obsessed w/ his corvette) later and jesus christ hes (almost) six foot of pure dilf that youre considering sidling up to him instead LMAO. esp with how the house looked, it wouldnt be so bad being a old man’s bitch

the doorbell you rang reverberates throughout the house, albeit a bit muffled, but the door opens quickly and you’re met with a black spiky-haired kid, who looks a few years younger than you. but megumi didn’t really need an introduction, because you’re pointing it out to him once inside.

“aren’t you the kid that got suspended for beating up gang members?” sometimes his seniors never knew when to shut up. to this, megumi just sighs.

“yep, that’s me. i told you my name over the phone but,” he extends a hand, “i’m fushiguro megumi.”

you hum and take his hand, introducing yourself as well before a thud makes you snap your head to the noise, where a larger and taller man emerges from the door that connects the living room to the garage. he has features similar to megumi’s and he’s currently clutching his toe, stubbing it on the cabinet on his way out and cursing his head off.

it isn’t difficult to match name to face for him as well, remembering a report you did on the increasingly popular racing scene starting up again. don’t ask — it was a pretty open assignment and you didn’t hesitate to write about the culture back then, something you always wished you lived in.

now, you’re not too taken aback by casually stumbling across fushiguro toji’s home, but more of how he managed to maintain his physique for so many years. if there’s anything your research told you, he was more on the lanky side in his twenties, the right side of his mouth clear from the scar while dominating the drifting scene back in the 80s.

“who’re you, kid?” a little annoyed at the name but you open your mouth to introduce yourself, and toji nods, although confused. it seems like he’s not too involved in megumi’s grades, because when you tell him megumi himself had called you over a bad grade in literature and social studies, his expression drops into an ‘o’.

“ah, i would’ve taught him myself but…” you knew he dropped out of high school before, living a crap life trying to pay off debts his father had left him and turning to racing and winning bets to make a living out of it. it was scary how this information was so accessible to you via one of his interviews, but you can tell he’s put it long before him, choosing to focus on raising megumi and maintaining his corvette.

“make yourself at home, alright, doll?” doll. you stutter out an affirmative reply.

though when he said that, you hadn’t imagined wandering into the same door he had came out of before. he was probably checking on the condition of his car, knees protruding out of the corvette’s side as he rolls out on the creeper at the sound of someone approaching. you didn’t wish to do this, truly, but when some kids from megumi’s school had attempted to play a prank by picking toji’s lock to get back at megumi, the latter had discovered them after coming out the side door.

needless to say, megumi still holds up his reputation, chasing them down for more than three blocks (it was seven) before proceeding to, you assume, beat them up. you imagine it’s routine for toji at this point, but you still want to at least let him know.

“he’s off again?” toji sits up after hearing your explanation, using the wrench to scratch his temple. sure, he’s only like twenty years older than you — it certainly doesn’t stop you from checking out how his muscles bulge against his compression shirt, or the grey sweatpants he’d got on that you told yourself not to peep at. “don’t mind the kid, i’ll lecture him when he returns later.”

he sighs and grumbles under his breath, expecting you to leave, and when you don’t he just raises an eyebrow, a silent prompt for you to explain what else you needed. you only pointed to the hood.

“uh… toji-san, if you’re keen on getting back into racing,” toji fully stands up to his height, curious on what you have to say, but also wondering how much balls you had to talk about racing in front of him, “you should really change your 283 cubic-inch V8 to a 327. i, uh, heard the specifications on the new engine has better fuel delivery and horsepower.”

toji relaxes when you actually know your crap, not wanting to deal with another annoying fan begging him to get back into racing, although you’re not entirely off the hook. “and why should i listen to you, hm, doll?”

he stands there, unimpressed, but you didn’t research cars like a madman for nothing. it was a rabbit hole you had commended yourself for diving into, too, because you always had wanted to start, just, how? and that changed when you finally had the opportunity to delve into the complicated world of cars with the help of your friend’s dad who was a mechanic. “um… you really don’t. just giving some pointers, or at least, recommendations that go well with your ’66 corvette.”

oh my god? you know the exact year his chevrolet was released too?

the ex-racer only nods slowly, keeping it in mind for the next time he has the time to switch to an updated engine, but he didn’t expect help to come from your hands the next time, working under the hood like a professional while still leaving the heavy lifting to him. you had fun each time in the garage, exchanging intel and geeking about cars while you both open up to each other — all under the guise of tutoring his son.

since then, toji has taken his corvette out to meet you more than he takes it out for errands, meeting you with a promise that he would take care of your university fees. but none of the time spent with you would’ve warned him that you two would be changing his next engine, too, except that maybe, you were finally his girl.

why does toji’s always end up the longest bye. also this is the only req i’ve gotten, i swear i don’t bite guys. ♡ thirsts and drabble requests are open!

1K notes · View notes

torikuna · 7 months ago

Text

𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗻!𝗦𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗮𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱

warnings: mdni, profanity, angst but also fluff lil bit lol, petname (doll), modern!sukuna x fem!reader (he’s around 25-26 yo, reader in early 20s)

your first meeting wasn’t very nice, but memorable. you were in a hurry to run errands, but suddenly you crashed into someone’s back and fell to the ground. you looked up and see a tall man in front of you, looking at you with cold crimson eyes over his shoulder, his hands in his pockets. in response to your apology, he called you a “pathetic, stupid bitch”

after that, you crossed paths a couple of times and somehow found a common language at Sukuna’s initiative. he probably said that you’re a “debtor” now because he forgave you lol

your relationship progressed slowly because it took Sukuna some time to understand and acknowledge his feelings

ofc he won't do that. you’re close to him because “i’m still not tired of you” (his words)

he is a harsh, rude, manipulative, immoral, selfish narcissist

but these qualities partially disappear in him when it comes to you

he always walks around with a frown, cold and emotionless expression on his face, but inside he’ll worry about you

tsundere. ᐢ ̥_ ̫ _ ̥ᐢ…

is something bothering you? he’ll try to comfort you by stroking your head or holding you in his lap with his arms tightly around your waist. but he won’t be able to find the right words, so he’ll just solve all your problems himself

but sometimes he can say something like “brat, calm down, your tears are annoying me.” and leaves you alone

he’s very unpredictable and you’ll have to get used to it.

more about his caring side. he should always be aware of your well-being. are you feeling sick? tell him. are you hurt? tell him. he’ll do anything to make you feel better ᡴꪫ‎

he’s doing this not because he loves you, but because “don’t die, brat, i’ve a grandiose plans on you”

he likes it when your attention is completely focused on him, so he likes to spend time with you

usually you spend dates in restaurants. “get ready, i’ll pick you up at 8pm” and he’ll ask you to wear your sexiest dress so he can show you off

what if someone bothers you? "i’ll destroy the whole world for you." he’ll kill anyone who disrespects you. does this bother you? no, you love it.

actually, i don’t think he’s very jealous and argues with you about this, rather he has boundaries of what is permitted

his eyes are always on you, anywhere, so this “pathetic fucking trash” (men) doesn’t go beyond these boundaries

“did i give permission to touch her?” /he killed him/ㅠㅠ

when he's in a bad mood he'll just take you in that sexy dress to show everyone who you belong to

he’ll fuck you all night, leaving marks on your skin while you beg him to forgive you. your hands are pinned to the bed above your head etc

“you sorry? heh, five minutes ago you didn’t look like you were sorry”, “you’re only mine.. sigh that guy can’t fuck you the way i do. only i can touch you”, “i know you like it.. sigh you needy, dirty doll, just cum for me”

he’s possessive.

the next day it’ll hurt to walk ଘ(|lI.‸.)

he resolves other conflicts with you diplomatically, but sometimes he can be quite rude and impulsive

but this rarely happens, because after this he feels guilty. yes, he knows what guilt is, but he’ll never apologize :)

in general he rarely snaps at you, mostly his attitude is special, he treats you like a princess

while he hates everyone around, you can calmly come up to him at any time and hug him and he won’t mind

and also he protects you from curses, men and rude ppl around you

btw, when at night he pulls you closer to him, hugging you tightly while your head lies on his chest and you feel his heavy and even breathing, it’s not because he likes it, but because you need to be protected (that’s what he calls it)

people around you don't understand how you can date him, he can kill you at any moment. everyone is afraid of him

but not you.

he’s secretly grateful to you for your attitude towards him. you were never afraid of him, you always treated him with understanding and kindness

you’re the one who will show him what love is, you’ll teach him this. it’s “i don't believe in love” and “i’ll show you what love can be” trope <з

he himself doesn’t know what attracted him to you, but he knows for sure that you’re the only person who evokes a storm of emotions in him, making his heart beat uncomfortably fast, awakening feelings unfamiliar to him

and he finds it interesting. he finds you interesting.

#꒰ঌᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ໒꒱tkuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #anime

145 notes · View notes

johnkahner · 1 year ago

Note

How about, Bi Han truly loves reader, but breaks readers heart for an arranged marriage that will give him power… reader finds love again with another (you choose) and Bi- han regrets his decisions…

Love an angst, sorry if it is too much

AN: This kinda hurt to write lol, but I got it done. The angst man. I gotta love it and hate it. Hope you guys enjoy! I chose Kenshi, but it was hard to figure out who to pick. Not proof read.

Notes: Gender-Neutral! Reader, Angst, Regretful! Bi-Han

Bi-Han thought he made the right decision, putting his clan first instead of his heart. He needed to acquire more power for Lin Kuei. Right now the two of you were sitting down drinking some tea. Bi-Han said he had something important to say about the relationship. You were thinking he was going to propose to you, but what he says shatters your heart.

“I decided to agree to an arranged marriage. This is for the greater good for the Lin Kuei.”

Tears were rolling down your face. Too shocked you look at him, and he doesn’t show you any emotion. Quickly standing up, you ran off in a hurry. Not wanting to spend anymore time with the man that just broke your heart for more power for his stupid clan.

Bi-Han just watches you run off. He did the right thing, right? Surely he did, only time will tell.

As you run, you bump into Lord Liu Kang. He looks concerned about you. You tell him about Bi-Han’s actions, and that makes him frown.

“You are more than welcomed to join me when I return to the Wu Shi Academy.”

You greatly accept his offer, and you quickly head off to pack your stuff up. Not long after that you are now at the academy. You meet with the champions staying there that are training. You make eye contact with Kenshi, and something just clicks. You see Johnny give him a pat on the back and whisper something in his ear. Kenshi walks over to you.

“If you don’t mind, can I help you with carrying your luggage? It, uh, looks really heavy.”

He rubs the back of his neck, and you chuckle at him.

“Of course. You’re quite the gentleman.”

He helps you with your luggage, and over time the two of you blossom a friendship during his and the other champion’s training. Also, during this time you avoid Bi-Han like he is the plague. Though you still talk with Kuai Liang and Tomas, they are sympathetic to how you feel and they don’t talk about Bi-Han or the Lin Keui.

From a distance Bi-Han watches you. Whenever he sees you talk with Kenshi something within him hurts. That smile used to be the one you showed him. That laugh was used when he acted cold and distant from you. That look in your eyes used to be how you looked lovingly at him.

What happens next really hurts him. He sees Kenshi and you going off alone somewhere, but as he silently follows and hides from the two of you. He sees you initiate a makeout session with Kenshi.

Bi-Han feels his own heart become more cold, and feels as if it would break at any moment. He begins to regret wanting more power for his clan because he lost the one thing that truly made him happy, you. Now you are in the arms of another man.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat imagine #bi han x reader #sub zero x reader #bi han #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi

530 notes · View notes

umbramoons · 6 months ago

Text

TECH MOMENTS PT. 5

The Bad Batch S1 E1: Aftermath

This one's a doozy, my friends! Enjoy 100+ bullet points and 50+ pics of our favorite clone genius!

- Running through the droids, putting an explosive on everyone he can get his hands on. ❤

- “Hey, clanker! Catch!” (This was the moment I realized that I like him. My brain did a double take, like: "Wait he's attractive.") ❤

- Kicking a droid for no reason ❤

- Walking off the battlefield like it wasn’t even hard.

- I love the little distracted wave he gives General Billaba. Everything about him is just so endearing to me.

- His voice is a little more deep and raspy than usual while he’s talking about the war ending. Gosh, I’m down so bad for this man.

- He’s the only one who doesn’t have a blaster drawn when they first approach Caleb.

- Tech is one of the ones sent to talk to the regs about what’s going on. Echo makes sense since he’s technically still a reg, too, but why Tech? Because he’s the least likely to cause a problem.

- He’s also the first one to run to talk to the regs. Taking initiative once again.

- Tech: “The regs have been ordered to execute the Jedi.”

Hunter: “What? Which Jedi?”

Tech: “All of them.” The disbelief in his voice is subtle but there.

- This is a glow-up, people (a small one since he was already pretty, but still)! Tech is gorgeous, and no one can tell me otherwise. ❤

- I love his tiny smile when he finishes explaining how long they’ve been gone.

- The disappointed look on his face when Wrecker doesn’t understand his explanation of how long they’ve been away from Kamino.

- He has the smallest smile on his face when he hears that General Grevious has been defeated.

- “Just like I said.”

- He looks so done when Wrecker punches him.

- When the clones pass by with the body of a Jedi, it’s Tech Hunter shares a look with.

- “Excuse me, trooper, what division are you from?” *gets shoved aside* “Oh. Well, they seem the same to me.” ❤

- He immediately starts working on something once he gets back to their barracks.

- All the formulas and calculations on his bunk wall… a result of his sleepless nights, I’m sure.

- I love the curious look he gives Crosshair when he says they didn’t complete every objective.

- “And my exceptional mind.” I love him an unhealthy amount.

- “My guess is we are immune to the effects of the programming.” *looks at Crosshair* “Though I can’t be one hundred percent certain of it.” He looks so. Kriffing. GORGEOUS.

- “You are more machine than man. Percentage-wise, at least.” His little reassurance to Echo at the end.

- Hunter: “This is one meeting I don’t want to miss.”

Tech: “First time for everything.”

- The way he’s just looking at his datapad throughout the meeting.

- Stepping out of line to ask Hunter what’s wrong. First of all, noticing something’s up with him. And second, it takes some serious courage to break formation like that during such an important briefing while all your superiors can clearly see you.

- “Still don’t think the regs are programmed?”

- Crosshair: “Republic, Empire, what’s the difference?”

Tech: “The systematic termination of the Jedi is a big one for me.” ❤

- “Adolescent human female. Origins... uncertain.”

- Tech’s mouth quirks up in a tiny smile when Omega says she was wondering when they’d come back. He already likes her.

- His look of surprise when he realizes Omega knows his name.

- The way he stares after Omega in wonder. ❤

- There’s this split second (right after Hunter says "everyone's talking about it) where it looks like he’s looking directly into the camera, and it’s just like, “Well hello there, sir.”

- “Hopefully not mental. Clearly, we’d never pass that.” It's okay, I'm not neurotypical either, babe.

- Leaning around Hunter to see Omega.

- “You want to sit with us? That’s never happened before.”

- He can’t stop grinning at Omega after she says she likes him and his team for not fitting in. ❤

- I love the way his expression shifts when Hunter asks where Omega’s family is. Like, "that's actually a really good point."

- The way his face instantly drops when the regs make a jab at them. At Omega. He’s used to being pushed around, but he’s not pleased to see this precious girl being mocked.

- I love the way he’s all squared up in the background of this fight.

- Calling out a warning to Echo and then running over to the clone who knocks him out. It doesn’t show it, but Tech definitely threw a punch at the guy for hurting his best friend. ❤

- “We’re more deviant than we are defective.”

- “Then we are not being reprimanded?” He’s so used to getting in trouble.

- His eye roll when Wrecker charges into battle without thinking. I thank God every day that we can always see his eyes with those goggles. ❤

- He’s not at all phased by passing through live rounds to get to Wrecker. He’d gladly walk through fire for the people he loves.

- “Wrecker, are you alright?”

- That little head shake when Hunter signals a plan to him. Like he doesn’t think it will work, but he knows they have no other option.

- Wrecker: “Aw, I hate hand signals!”

Tech: “Perhaps if you memorized them?”

Wrecker: “Why don’t you memorize them?”

Tech: “I have.”

- They’re in the middle of a battle, but he’s sitting against those barriers so casually.

- The way he stops Wrecker from crushing the droid.

- Reprogramming the droid, then choosing to ride on its shoulders like a legend. (Note that it looks like he’s the only one to specifically get an impressed reaction out of Tarkin with his performance in this simulation) ❤

- Can I also just say how impressive that was? He completely reprogrammed a hostile droid to follow his commands while under heavy fire. In less than a minute. What a man, what a legend.

- “Wrecker. Look alive.” I feel like he has the capacity to lead, he just doesn’t want to.

- Reaches out to Wrecker (who calls him buddy). “I’m -” *flops down* “not going anywhere.” ❤

- I love the way he takes a deep breath and straightens his posture for a second after Echo and Wrecker help him up.

- “There’s a fundamental difference between taking fire in battle and being used as target practice.” I love how upset he is about this. Also, he’s also backing up Wrecker’s feelings with his own here.

- None of the others make eye contact with Tarkin when he’s examining them. Tech does and practically glares at him. ❤

- I love his expression shift when Tarkin says the insurgents are Separatists. I can’t place the expression, but I love it. It’s almost like “Come on, I thought the war was over. Oh well.”

- I love his little disappointed look when Echo says he can’t crack the files. And then how he immediately offers to help.

- “That’s not going near my rack. I refuse to sleep by a projectile again.” AGAIN?!

- Tech comes right behind Hunter to exit the ship (and then leads them for a significant portion of their walk). Possibly symbolizing his position within the squad.

- Echo: “What was that?”

Tech: “You don’t want to know.” 😑

- “Easy, Wrecker. Your programming’s kicking in.” I legit laughed out loud at this when I first watched the show. ❤

- His datapad lighting up his eyes makes him look so beautiful.

- Hunter always relies on him.

- The way he instantly senses that something’s wrong when he can’t see any droids in the camp.

- “There aren’t any droids, Wrecker.” You can tell that he’s starting to get a little agitated about this situation.

- Defending both sides when others choose one.

- Tech is the first one to ease up and stand down. Almost the second he hears Hunter start talking, like he knew he was going to tell them to back off. (And his eyes look stunning in that shot when he does. They immediately soften and become non-threatening.) You can just tell how much he and Hunter respect and trust each other. ❤

- He looks so pretty in this warm light of the camp. Who am I kidding, he looks good in every lighting.

- Geeking out over Saw. (And Saw is absolutely staring him down as he does. Like, they’re having a staring contest until he’s handed a weapon to examine. I don’t like that foreshadowing.)

- I also love the look on his face when Cross says “Is that a request?” I just always love his expressions.

- The way he leans forward with the tiniest hint of concern when Saw tells them to look at the insurgents they were sent to destroy. Anyone who says Tech is emotionless hasn’t been paying attention to him at all.

- His offended look when Saw said he thought he was the smart one.

- He is absolutely GORGEOUS in that shot where Crosshair says that the war is over. He’s literally flawless, and he’s perfect.

- “At least with the Republic, we knew where we stood. Tarkin and this Empire are a whole different story.”

- He literally jerks back in surprise when Cross says that Hunter isn’t fit to lead their squad.

- The concerned and confused look on his face when Hunter brings up Omega.

- “I would not discount Omega’s insight. A state of heightened awareness is not unusual for an enhanced clone such as herself.” Standing up for Omega before he knows her that well. ❤

- “When Nala Se spoke of five clones, Tarkin assumed that meant us, but Echo’s a reg. The fifth is Omega.”

- “Well, I thought it was obvious.” Leans against the doorframe like he couldn’t care less. ❤

- That glare when Crosshair suggests leaving Omega on Kamino.

- His little breath before saying “this is unusual” just makes him feel so alive to me.

- I love how he’s constantly glancing over and making eye contact with Crosshair. These two were so close.

- HIS BLACKS. TECH IN HIS BLACKS. Hallelujah for this scene. We wouldn’t be nearly as familiar with everyone's body types without it. Gorgeous man. Everyone likes to talk about Hunter's tiny waist, but Tech's is just as snatched.

- “Well, the mission wasn’t a total failure.” Of course he’s the first one to notice Omega. ❤

- His face is so warm and happy when he sees Omega. And then he immediately shifts to unamused at Crosshair’s complaint. ❤

- He shoots another tiny smile Omega’s way when Hunter says they were looking for her.

- “I never thought you disobeying orders was a problem.” Facts, love.

- Crosshair never directs his anger at Tech. It’s always at the others. Even if Tech does say something he doesn’t like, he doesn’t get mad until someone else expounds upon it, and then he snaps at them. Cross clearly has a favorite here.

- Cross starts shaking his head with clear distress and frustration when Wrecker says that they disobey orders all the time, and you can see that Tech notices it. He tilts his head and frowns a little bit. ❤

- The concerned look he and Echo exchange when Crosshair starts to confront Hunter again.

- He looks freaked out when the guards hit Hunter.

- Reaching out for Crosshair when they take him away. That broke my heart when I first noticed it. ❤

- The way he bounces his leg when he’s thinking hard. ❤

- “I’ve got it! Why didn’t I think of it before?”

- He talks with his hands. ❤

- Covering his mouth when Wrecker talks too loud.

- Running his fingers over the wall to see where the weak point is. ❤

- The confusion and worry on his face when Wrecker says it still didn’t work. Gorgeous, gorgeous.

- The way he glances over at Hunter (or probably the guards) before going over to help Wrecker. Ugh, he’s literally perfect.

- “Oh, yes it did.” ❤

- Bending a metal panel with his bare hands like it’s nothing. My man is strong! I love how he doesn’t follow the trope of the nerdy character being weak.

- Wrecker: “I’ll never fit through that!”

Tech shakes his head. “Astute as always, Wrecker.”

- I love the way he rolls his eyes and facepalms when Wrecker blows their cover.

- Grabbing a blaster and stunning the last conscious guard. He shoots twice, just to be sure, and carries the blaster. He’s such a boss.

- Turning to confirm the guards aren’t dead (or going to follow them) before leaving the brig.

- Tech looks so cute when he tells Wrecker to hold still.

- I love how Tech serves as the unofficial medic (with Echo’s help, of course).

- Omega: “I guess I got lucky.”

Tech: “She's not the only one.” *gestures to Wrecker without looking up* ❤

- "What's the plan, Hunter?"

- Omega: “What about your friends? Could any of them help us?”

Tech: “That would be a short list.”

- The way he leans in and smiles so brightly when Omega asks that question.

- His smile when Hunter tells him to plot a course for J-19. ❤

- I love the way he shakes his head with clear affection when Wrecker cheers this time.

#tech moments #tech tuesday #the bad batch #tbb #sw the bad batch #star wars tbb #bad batch #tbb tech #star wars #sw tbb #tech bad batch #tech tbb #bad batch tech

89 notes · View notes

jsluvtzu · 1 year ago

Text

strawberry kisses (pt. 1)

park jihyo x fem!reader

summary: sweet reminders of who you belong to

cw: smut!!! men dni, cheating-ish?, jihyo’s realll jealous and realllll possessive, choking, marking

wc: 2.9k

a/n: i got this idea while listening to mina’s bridge in first time 😭 everybody say thank you jihyo for putting that pen to work!

the lively restaurant was filled with laughter and half-sober words all around you.

your girlfriend brought you along with her to a dinner with her biker friends: nayeon, momo, and sana.

jihyo had always been a motorcycle enthusiast — she and her friends would constantly go on late night rides together at times that no normal person would be awake.

but recently, things at work had been so hectic that her bike was instead left to collect dust in your garage.

hectic enough to the point where you two hadn’t fucked in three weeks.

any time you wanted to initiate anything intimate with her it was always “i’m too tired”, or, “maybe tomorrow”.

obviously, this meant you were beyond horny.

you were desperate for any form of relief — even just a simple thigh ride while jihyo typed away on her laptop would have sufficed.

but, meeting after meeting, file after file, the work was never ending for jihyo.

your girlfriend’s career had officially stolen her away from you.

until you decided to drag her up from the deep ocean of stress she was drowning in that night.

—

“come onnn, y/n! stop being so lame, ‘js take the damn shot,” nayeon slurred, hoping to encourage you to be on the same level of drunk as her.

“one more shot won’t hurt you, y/n..” sana’s sweet voice joined nayeon’s drunken one in peer pressuring you.

you sighed out dramatically and scoffed at the way you were so easily influenced around them, “alrightt, alright. i’ll do it.”

cheers erupted from the both of them who excitedly poured peach soju in your empty shot glass, spilling a quarter of the bottle in the process.

as you downed your now fourth shot of alcohol, you glanced to your right to see jihyo and momo engaged in some business talk.

momo was like jihyo’s advisor, always giving her pointers and tips about how to manage her substandard employees.

even at a dinner party she can’t seem to get her mind off of work, you thought — slightly disappointed, but also worried.

you shook your head and brought yourself back to your distractions for the night, tipsily conversing with jihyo’s drunk friends about what it would feel like to wake up as a man one day.

while nayeon and sana were debating with each other, the screeching of a scooted back chair caught your attention, your girlfriend suddenly getting up and leaving out the door.

slightly confused, your eyes followed her out into the window in front of the restaurant, only to see her on a phone call with her hand pressed to her forehead.

another fucking work call. you were somewhat angry at this point, and — who keeps rubbing on your thigh?

“you’re soooo fuckin’ pretty, y/n.. ‘wouldn’t even know what to do with all this.” nayeon snuck her way unnecessarily closer to you while you were focused on fighting your girlfriend in your head.

her hand trailed up your exposed thigh from the short black skirt you wore, rubbing at your soft flesh as she mumbled intoxicated things in your ear.

you turned your head down a bit to see nayeon resting her head on your shoulder, nibbling at your bare skin.

“nayeon.. what are you-”

“ ‘s okay, pretty, ‘s ‘js me.” nayeon interrupted as she kissed her way up to your neck.

you shifted yourself away from her touch, uncomfortable at her advances.

momo and sana scolded nayeon from across the table, “stop it before jihyo sees. and you know what she would do to you.” momo was currently the soberest one at the table, attempting to knock some sense into her friend.

“mmm don’t be ridiculous, she’s too busy with her dumb company to pay attention to us..”

nayeon inhaled the sweet vanilla perfume that jihyo loved on you, “god you smell good. ‘could eat you up right here..” she whispered the last part lowly, almost seductively.

it was hard for you to control yourself as the shots you took earlier were getting to you, and it wasn’t exactly a lie that you’d always found nayeon attractive.

but nayeon was right. jihyo was too busy to pay attention, so maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to make her pay attention for once.

sana and momo were eventually too occupied flirting with each other to see the smile forming on your face when you had your plan in mind.

from the angle the table was at, your seat was in perfect view for jihyo to see nayeon all over you.

whoever jihyo was arguing with over the phone, they had her pacing the sidewalk and getting visibly frustrated, gesturing her hands in the air to emphasize her words with venom laced behind them.

she faced you through the glass pane at the perfect moment when nayeon tucked your hair behind your ear and leaned in for a kiss.

you made direct eye contact with jihyo as you felt nayeon kiss you on the corner of your mouth, letting her messily peck at your lip gloss coated lips.

the way your girlfriend’s furrowed brows relaxed and her soft eyes turned dark only encouraged you to infuriate her even more.

and from the way it sounded, jihyo swung the door open with enough force to break it clean off the hinges.

her footsteps were heavy and intentional.

you slightly winced when jihyo grabbed your arm and forcefully yanked you out of nayeon’s grip.

“mm- the ‘fuck? heyyy.. jiii..hyo..?.. shit.” nayeon said, squinting through her drowsy eyes to make out your girlfriend’s hovering figure. she almost fell completely forward when you were pulled away as she was reliant on your body there to hold her up.

“y/n has to use the bathroom.”

“no i don-“

before you could even finish your sentence, you were already halfway on your way to the ladies’ room.

you were sure that jihyo’s grip on your bicep was strong enough to leave bruises later. not that you were complaining anyways.

she picked the furthest stall at the end of the room to cram the two of you in, pushing you in first and slamming the lock shut behind her.

immediately, you felt how cold her hands were from being outside as she wrapped her fingers around your throat in a tight enough squeeze to give you a rush.

your backside made contact with the flimsy wall, making a loud bang as she pinned you between it and her.

her leg was slotted perfectly between yours and you couldn’t resist the urge to lightly grind your clothed core against her denim covered thigh.

“thought you could get away with your little act huh? ‘tryna make me fuckin’ jealous or somethin’?” the increasingly tight grasp on your neck made your vision go blurry, “greedy slut just needs to be put in her place doesn’t she?”

you attempted to answer her, but you could only give her a lousy groan in response.

jihyo was eyeing you up and down with nothing but pure lust in her eyes.

weeks of not being able to taste you, touch you, feel you — jihyo was just as sexually frustrated as you were.

there was a moment of tension when her hands loosened and she carefully watched as you caught your breath, lips parted and eyelids half-open.

you broke the moment soon enough as you crashed your lips onto hers, moaning into the now sloppily paced make out session.

whines escaped your lips when jihyo pressed her thigh closer to your aching core, making your jaw drop even wider.

she took that opportunity to force her tongue into your mouth, claiming her territory and exploring you fully.

you stabilized yourself with your hands at her shoulders, her muscles insanely defined even through the thick leather jacket she had on.

your girlfriend broke the kiss with your bottom lip between her teeth, pulling away with a pop sound.

it wasn’t long until her lips found their way back to your skin, attacking your jaw and neck.

when you felt her sucking at your soft flesh in a pulsing rhythm, you remembered that you were still very much in public.

“w-wait- jihyo.. we still mmph- have to go out there-”

she laughed against your skin, biting at a new spot on your throat and soothing it with her tongue — the chemical taste of your expensive perfume teasing her tastebuds.

“am i supposed to care? you had no problem eating nayeon’s face in front of everybody,” her hand trailing up to unbutton your cropped cardigan, “more specifically, in front of me.” your collarbones now exposed and tempting her, “it’s only fair baby.”

jihyo left deep red hickeys on damn near every empty patch of skin on your neck — half of your chest and collarbones littered with bite marks and bruises.

she kissed over her last mark on you for now and leaned back to admire her work.

to her, it was better than any other project she had ever worked on.

“that’s good enough, love. let’s go, i’m not done with you.”

jihyo opened the stall door and walked out, running her fingers through her curled hair and leaving you to fix yourself on your own.

seeing yourself in the mirror was definitely a sight.

your hair was disheveled, clothes were out of place, lips were swollen, and the marks. god, the fucking marks she left on you should not have made you feel the way you did.

you were just relieved that nobody came in for the past 10 minutes as you hooked the last button of your baby blue sweater through its hole.

walking back out into the dining hall felt incredibly embarrassing knowing what you currently looked like — you tried sweeping your hair over your neck to cover up as best as you could.

jihyo was already getting your things together to leave when you got back to the table, ignoring the fact that nayeon’s eyes couldn’t leave your flushed face.

sana laughed in disbelief, “you guys are fucking nasty.”

you avoided prolonged eye contact with all three of them while saying your goodbyes and followed behind your still angry girlfriend.

her bike was parked alongside the curb next to the rest of theirs, but a special pink heart that she let you paint on the small windshield distinguished it from anyone else’s.

the wind kept blowing your hair from its designated spot and revealed your pretty marks to the people that passed by.

jihyo saw you hugging yourself as she set her bike up, taking off her leather jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

mumbling out a low thank you, you slid your arms through the sleeves and threw your leg over the seat, sitting directly and comfortably behind your girlfriend.

“helmet.” jihyo passed you a matching helmet that you two got for your anniversary last year over her shoulder.

you slid your head into its snug shell and adjusted it as jihyo revved her bike a couple times to warm it up.

wrapping your arms around her waist, you placed your feet up on the footrests and turned your head to the side, leaning down to rest it against her back.

the ride home felt like minutes thanks to jihyo’s aggressive speeding and weaving through crowded lanes.

you clung onto her for dear life when she would make sharp turns around a tight corner and gas it, a clear sign that you were in for a long night.

when you finally made it home, jihyo flipped the kickstand out with her foot and pulled her helmet off, her dark hair flowing out all at once.

you did the same, placing your helmet on the left handlebar and following her through your garage door.

jihyo headed upstairs without even looking back at you — she knew you wouldn’t be far behind.

when you reached the open door of your shared bedroom, you saw your girlfriend already shuffling through her nightstand, pulling out a pink silk tie that she only used when she intended on fucking you absolutely stupid.

“clothes off. you know what to do.” her tone sending chills down your spine as you stood frozen in place.

“no.” you said firmly — your heart beating out of your ribcage.

a deep sigh filled the room as she snapped her head in your direction, “no?”

jihyo walked towards you slowly, like a predator stalking her prey — her muscles flexing on full display with the black tank top she had on.

your breathing was sharp and uncontrolled, your fists clenched to keep yourself together.

you flinched when she raised her hand, landing it gently on your cheek and caressing your smooth skin with her thumb.

“sweet thing..” she mumbled, “but you don’t get to be a brat tonight.”

her hand suddenly left your cheek and found itself grabbing a fistful of your hair, forcing a yelp out of you as she dragged you over to your shared bed.

jihyo slammed you face first into the soft comforter, holding your head down with her hand tangled in between your messy locks.

“you’ve been pretty bold lately.” you squirmed under her and tried to get up, but your efforts proved pointless when jihyo forced you back down as she straddled your lower back.

she practically ripped her jacket off of you as she grabbed your hands together and began wrapping the silk tie around your wrists.

“first you kiss some other bitch in front of me..” your squeals unaffecting her, “now you wanna talk back?” her skilled knot tying skills leaving your wrists locked with no escape, “seems like my sweet girl forgot who she really is.”

your skirt rode up your ass during your pathetic attempt at fighting back, accidentally revealing a prominent damp spot left in your panties.

“oh, you fucking like this.” jihyo scoffed, groping your thighs and slapping your ass a couple times.

small moans left you unwillingly, your horniness completely blinding you from what your original plan was.

“please..” you whined, slightly lifting your ass up for her in hopes that she would understand your signal.

“hm? now you’re begging for me?” she laughed darkly, “you’re nothin’ but a pretty fuckin’ slut.”

jihyo hooked her fingers through your panties and slid them down your legs, throwing them off to the side.

your legs were hanging off the bed in such a perfect position for jihyo to just take you right there.

she bent down and kissed your ass roughly, practically inhaling your flesh into her mouth.

you felt her sink her teeth into your lower thigh, making you wince at the sharp pain.

the same marks she left on your upper half were now tattooed across your lower — purple bruises appearing evenly on each one of your cheeks.

“fuck, just fuck me please. ‘need you so bad-”

you had no idea when she strapped the harness across her hips — too lost in the pleasure of her mouth on your skin, but when you looked over your shoulder, she stood there — pants off, strap on.

without any warning, she slid the full length of her silicone cock inside your poor pussy, not even allowing you any time to adjust.

she held your wrists together with one hand as she mercilessly pounded your tight hole.

the way you clenched around her strap left your pussy aching as you cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain.

“ngh- wait! ji- stop.. ‘hurts too much..” you stuttered, desperately grabbing at her forearm, digging your nails into her skin.

the squelching sounds that echoed against the walls drowned out the chorus of moans that you and jihyo made.

your wrists were going numb from how tight the silk was wrapped around them, her hold on you preventing you from moving out of her grip.

“yeah? you wanna act like a slut? i’ll fuckin’ treat you like one.” jihyo groaned out in between heavy breaths, “ ‘js take it like the bitch you are.” she was using this opportunity to take out her built up stress on you.

she flipped your skirt up against your back, letting the flowy fabric wave erratically every time she thrusted into you.

in your fit of mewls and fucked out moans, you felt yourself getting close — your walls clenching around her strap, making it difficult for her to fuck you at the same speed.

“my bitch. tell me who you fucking belong to.” she growled.

your brain was beyond the point of functioning, coherent words impossible to form.

“y-you- mmph only you, fuck- ‘m all yours.”

the sound of your skin clapping against each other threw both of you over the edge, your struggled screams partially muffled as you pressed your head further into the sheets.

“only i can fuckin’ have you like this.”

jihyo fucked you through your orgasm as your back arched acrobatically, coming around her strap and soaking her lap with your juices.

you shakily cried out frantic begs and pleads as your legs went limp against the bed.

your girlfriend bucked her hips slowly a few more times to let you catch your breath, her ringtone suddenly blaring on the nightstand.

jihyo tsked at being bothered at such an inconvenient time, pulling out of you and reaching for her phone.

you whined at the emptiness, simultaneously slipping into a slightly drunken coma.

“you g’na answer that?” you asked breathlessly, expecting her to put her job first per usual as she you watched her stare at her screen, contemplating.

she shook her head and threw her phone back onto the wooden nightstand, “no. i have better things you to do.”

#twice imagines #twice x reader #twice smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #jihyo imagines #jihyo x reader #jihyo smut #park jihyo

740 notes · View notes

thewritetofreespeech · 1 month ago

Note

Hello, can I ask for something a little specific? I know in that time period , there wasn't any kind of vibrating toy (if you know what I mean 😉) , since it's fiction, maybe a new technology can be appearing or something else. Could I request loving sweet fem girlfriend using a vibrator on Gerhard for the first time and he goes completely desparate, never having experienced something alike.

I really loved the story you wrote where we can see Gerhard being noticeable more comfortable and relax because of her and the boys notice. ❤️ Could this happen in the same universe (if that makes sense)?

[work in question for part i]

After the meeting, Gerhard returned home with his son into his wife’s loving embrace. [Y/N] greeting Angelico enthusiastically, who raced into her arms before being sent off to his nannies for a bath and some supper, then gave Gerhard a soft kiss. “How goes the progress today dear?”

“Not well.” Gerhard replied in disgruntlement. “For commoners, they seem remarkably capable and well informed on the running of the city & upper-class inner workings.”

“Perhaps that is your downfall here, my dear,” Gerhard arched a brow at his wife’s comment as she paused for a clear dramatic effect, “assuming that the common people are that much less than.”

The nobleman sighed and nodded in sullen defeat. “Perhaps you are right.” He still thought that nobility was of the highest calling one could hope for, and it had its clear advantages on education & breeding. But perhaps looking down so far on the common man was making him overlook clues. “What’s that you have there?”

“Oh! This?” [Y/N] seemed to realize she was still holding something and pulled the elaborately wrapped box from her side to in front of her. “It just arrived in this evening’s post. It’s from Sonya.” Gerhard grumbled at the name but accepted the card to read when offered. “A belated wedding present is what she says.”

Lady Sonya Ashkin was a debauched person and menace to high society, but also a good friend of his wife. She had fled the country some years ago with her portion of the estate after the late Lord Ashkin died, and been doing God knows what with God knows who; sending back the occasional postcards to let people know she was still alive in whatever remote corner she had pitched her tent too. Gerhard was relieved when she missed their wedding, but found renewed trepidations in whatever this gift of hers could be. “What is it?”

“I’m not quite sure.” [Y/N] seemed equally confused when they opened it. Looking into the box to find small, ornate looking spheres. Almost like a box of decorative eggs at Easter. “The note says that they are a ‘marital aid’ but I’m not sure how they—oh!” [Y/N] picked up one of the spheres and, after a gentle squeeze of her fingers, it began vibrating.

Flustered his wife fussed with the contraption to turn it off and fumbled to get it back in the packaging before snapping the lid shut. “That…That was ummm….” Both of their faces were red now. Neither of them might have been overly experienced in sex or sexual pleasure, but it seemed that they both knew what Sonya’s little gift was intended for.

“Ludicrous woman.”

“Don’t say that about her.” [Y/N] scolded. Although her face was still quite heated from her friend’s little stunt. “I’m sure she was just trying to be supportive.”

“Implying that we need support in this area?” Gerhard clipped at his wife.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean that either….” [Y/N] moved the lid to put it on properly and straightened herself a little, now that the initial shock and embarrassment were over. “I’ll just get rid of them and we won’t speak of it again.”

“Well, wait a moment…” His wife looked at him with a curious expression. Gerhard coughed once to clear his throat and his mind, unable to believe what he was about to say. “I mean…it would be rude of us not to at least try them once.” He told her. “She went to all that trouble.”

His wife was always very patient with him. Through their courting and now marriage, intimacy had been hard for Gerhard. He didn’t really know what he liked. What he needed. But, [Y/N] was willing to listen and be supportive of his desires. Which was why he felt confident to use the toys. Even if they did feel a little funny. “What’s it like?”

“I…I don’t know…” Gerhard told her in the dark as the ornate spheres brushed against the base of his penis.

It wasn’t something he could really describe. It felt like the vibrations were going all the way through up to his belly. Down to his balls. Even further down to his toes to make them curl. It was indescribable but also not unpleasant.

[Y/N] moved the sphere up over his shaft and towards the tip of his cock. The feeling was too intense, so he flinched. His wife immediately adjusted it and moved it back down. When it came to the spot between his balls and his backside, Gerhard fell back against the mattress with a deep moan. Seeing stars. “I..! I’m going to cum!”

His release was quick and efficient. His whole body shaking like those spheres as he came all over their bed. When he settled, Gerhard opened his eyes and saw his wife looking oddly perturbed. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I like these anymore.” She tossed the little egg on the bed with a pout, and Gerhard was confused. She seemed so interested in them a moment ago. “You’ve never done that because of me before…”

Gerhard chuckled. Amused by her jealousy. What a silly woman. If she only knew how much he pined for her. How much he desired her.

The nobleman sat up and pulled his wife in for a kiss. “You’re usually too wrapped up in your own pleasure to notice. It clouds your mind.” His hand slipped down between them to her sex. Finding it incredibly wet despite her sour puss pout. “Let me show you.”

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#delico's nursery fanfiction #delico's nursery fanfic #delico's nursery x reader #delico's nursery imagine #delico's nursery scenario #delico nursery scenario #delico nursery imagine #gerhard fra #gerhard fra x reader #gerhard fra scenario #gerhard fra imagine #scenarios #imagine #delico's nursery #delico nursery #delico nursery smut

27 notes · View notes

maritotoy · 1 year ago

Text

MAUGA X Support/Medic Reader ((Part. 1))

NOTE: Believe it or not, I never realize how long I've written this one.

This narrative tracks Mauga's obsession with Y/N as it grows to the point where he is prepared to kill everyone who stands in his way. With this in mind, Mauga's commitment would gradually grow. He would start out softly and then this need on you would get stronger.

It all began when your talents were initially utilised for recruitment. You were a terrific help, willing to assist your teammates in whatever way they needed.

Your main issue was that you could never truly let them handle things on their own. As a result, it became increasingly difficult to care for yourself.

They promised you riches if you helped them fight back against their threat. There were only so many ways to profit from rival worlds, after all. You were aware that you were going into a whole new universe when you agreed, but you also felt that you had no choice but to accept them.

Ultimately, you didn't wish to pass away, did you?

It was stated to you when you first joined TALON Organization, that you should concentrate only on the battlefield. Up until you met Baptiste, an exceptional combat medic, it was great with you. Your shared enthusiasm for curing illness is what unites the two of you. It turned into a shared passion. As you try to acquire experience in several areas, like medical supplies, you both hope to discover some more useful abilities, like healing or even a unique kind of combat capability.

But you can hardly ever get to Baptiste, he's constantly at the top. Both a combat mercenary and medic. You're always looking for ways to sharpen your skills.

Even after meeting him again at your base and on missions, you are still determined to improve your ability to deal with any possible emergencies. Not until later do you find out what happens when a member of your unit gets injured.

Baptiste surged in, carrying an imposing stature and a solid, muscular frame. His voice sounded desperate, asking, "I'm sorry if I came to you! I know you are busy, but I need help with my friend, please, Y/N!" The urgency was so obvious that there wasn't much resistance. Even if he was a doctor himself, it must have seemed urgent enough.

Besides... You were in the right place to help.

You rushed over to his side and helped him stabilize his huge friend. "What happened, Bap? Are you hurt?" He didn't reply, but his eyes told you all you needed to know.

You fix your sight on his pal. He does not appear to be hurt or seriously damage. However, the man's body is completely soaked, which looks very suspicious to you. "Is he alright, Bap? I don't see anything wrong." He shook his head and gave a sigh.

"We were attacked. Mauga and I found the source of the enemy attack and got separated."

"How long has it been since then?"

"Four hours, maybe five."

"Do you have any idea of what may have caused the damage?"

"I'm not sure. However, I had already discovered him unconscious but unharmed on the ground. It should not take long for him to awaken.." You glance at the unconscious man again before you say, "Let me take a look at him." He nodded and stepped aside.

"Mauga could never be wounded by shots like that. Despite his size, he could easily absorb one hit thanks to his physique." He explains.

You crouch down and check on his comrade. He seems fine to you. There's nothing unusual about him, other than the fact that he's a bit too heavy.

You knew Mauga.

And with such.

You just don't know how to engage with him.

On a conversation? Yes. Your profession is your duty.

You don’t really get along with those who rely solely on themselves as an advantage, even though you respect their abilities.

The feeling is mutual. Every time someone gets hurt because of something beyond their control, you are there to help them.

Because that's your job as a medic.

You both have quite a difference in interests, though. You can't stand the fact that he’s so reckless, you can't understand why he doesn't think more carefully before he acts. As soon as he sees blood, it's always the most important thing.

Mauga stands tall, towering over his opponents with an impressive height of 7'5 ft tall. (My headcanon)

Mauga is a formidable opponent on the front lines thanks to his strong, muscular physique. His broad shoulders and thick neck gives off an air of strength and power, and his body is well-built, demonstrating his strength and capacity to deal severe damage to rivals.

Did I mention he has two hearts?

Unlike you, Mauga is a ruthless and cunning individual, driven by his own motivations. He never lets anyone interfere with his goals, whether or not they involve you. While he might act with reckless disregard sometimes, he is also able to calculate the best course of action.

Not anyone knows this. But you knew nontheless with Baptiste.

You may be underestimating him in some way, or you may have witnessed the genuine thing, up close and personal, but he always brags about his achievements without hesitation or shame. His fighting style turns wild and unpredictable when he fights. If Mauga doesn't want to win, he will take his time, before using ChaCha and Gunny, his chainguns, to grab the victory, and he won't give up until he achieves his objective.

He definitely is careless, isn't he?

"He's breathing just fine, Baptiste. I would say he is in perfect health, aside from the injuries, I can't detect any signs of any damage injuries either." You said as you stood up. Baptiste sighs relief. "I'll leave him to you doctor. Don't worry, I trust that you have everything under control." He says this to you while nodding in satisfaction.

This gesture of his is a way of gratitude towards the medic's work.

"I will be back later," he says as he leaves to make a round to prepare for battle.

While Baptiste was gone, you sat next to the downed mercenary soldier and begin to observe him. In the midst of his unconsciousness, he seems to be in a good state. There was no sign of discomfort or pain. His pulses are fast but steady, knowing that Mauga have two hearts, one that allowed him to replace his damaged, organic heart with a cybernetic one. That way, his heart will beat twice as fast. You can easily tell that Mauga is in his natural state.

Your eyes began to feel heavy after observing him for some time. You weren't sure if it's due to fatigue from watching him, or simply exhaustion from your duties as a medic.

Before you knew it, you fell asleep.

When you awoke, you find yourself staring back into the face of Maugaloa Malosi, whose lips formed into those flashing, same pasted smile as usual. “Ah, Doctor. How nice to see you again.”

You quickly wake up, sitting straight up on the chair. “M-Mauga!" You exclaimed, alarmed. "H-How is you- I mean are you feeling alright?”

He grinned at you. “I am feeling rather fine.” You let out a long, sigh of relief. However, you didn't anticipate that this would happen frequently. “I see..." You replied.

Silence takes over for a while. Mauga stared at you intensely before taking a step forward. “Your Y/N, correct? Baptiste little assistant. I've heard much about you, but never expect that I would get to get treated from you.”

You flinched slightly at his words 'assistant' and the word 'little', but you remained calm. “I'm glad that you feel better now. You should rest and recover. If you still need them..."

“I appreciate the concern,” he says as he reaches towards your shoulder. You instinctively raise your hands in preparation of blocking. This caught him off guard, causing him to pause in his movements, then booms laughing.

“My apologies, Teuila. I thought that you might have forgotten what I do here,” he said in that familiar, friendly tone.

“If I recall correctly, I haven't given you permission to touch me.” This comment caught him off guard as he chuckles deeply.

He stares at your hand for a while longer. You're beginning to become worried. After a brief silence, he reaches forward and lightly holds onto your wrist.

“That’s a very sensitive spot…” He whispers gently. Your heartbeat begins to accelerate. “And your pulse is fast. Is this normal?” he asks. “Yes,” you respond in a soft voice.

“Then why are you afraid? You know I'm not going to hurt you...” He grinned. His sharp teeth glinted menacingly in the dim light. "Surely you've already made a friend? You also gave him a lot of attention than you do with me. Or have you grown to dislike me?"

"...I... I beg your pardon-" your speech is interrupted by Baptiste with a tired expression.

"Hey... Sorry that I took so long. I went to gather supplies. Mission was a success." He sighed in relief as he approached you.

"Mauga, I'm glad your awake bud." Baptiste sighs in relief and smiles at Mauga. Mauga returned the gesture before looking back at you.

He still has that huge grin plastered across his features while his eyes darted towards yours. "You're crazy out there Mauga. Do you really think that you can defeat the enemies single handedly?" Baptiste says with a chuckle. “You know me Baptiste, I never do things without planning them out.” He grinned, revealing that row of dazzlingly white teeth. “I still don't understand how you've been knocked down so easily. It's hard to believe that you can be beaten like that.” Baptiste gives a half smirk, half frown.

You listen to their conversation, and you try to make sense of it. Mauga laughs at the situation, as if it's all so obvious. "C'mon, Baptiste, we have bigger problems than me right now. The mission is a success because we finally found the enemy camp. But it was a close call, and we needed your medical expertise to treat the wounded," Mauga explains to Baptiste while looking directly into his eyes with a sly smile. "I carried your massive ass in this camp with support of your weight alone. You ought to be pleased to have a subordinate with such skill." Baptiste smirks. He was referring to you. Mauga laughs at his friend's criticism, displaying his amusement at the circumstances.

"So yeah. It was pretty rough, but we managed to secure the objective! Isn't that great news?"

It's not really a surprise to you.

Mauga does tend to put himself in danger, especially when he's in an unfamiliar place.

This guy is completely reckless, which is why you can't believe that he managed to survive so many battles without falling apart or breaking down.

"Your a loose-canon, but I hope ended well..." you say calmly, hoping that you sound convincing enough.

"I can assure that I have the highest respect and admiration for your abilities as a medic. I would never doubt your skills, even if I hadn't personally experience how skilled you are in dealing with wounds." Mauga comments, he sounds sincere as ever.

Baptiste grins again. "That's a big ego of yours, my friend. You should consider giving a few compliments to the people who did more than you."

"I would love to, my friend, but there's nothing wrong with being modest about our accomplishments."

"Alright," Baptiste said, sounding annoyed.

--------

After several hours, days, months of treating your patients at base. You cannot help but wonder seeing Mauga quite often, whether that is purely because of duty or something else. Although it is difficult to tell what he's thinking, there are moments where you notice the way that he is constantly staring at you. Like he's trying to figure out something about you:

studying your appearance, facial expressions, mannerisms. Sometimes he gets lost in his thoughts, sometimes he appears to be lost in his own world, occasionally, you could catch him smirking knowingly, or even smiling to himself. These small gestures usually only occur during times when it's with you with him. Sometimes, the man is just too cheerful, or too energetic in general.

You could hardly handle the stress of handling all these patients in the infirmary on your own. You're starting to miss having Baptiste around to keep him occupied while you go through patients. You sighed loudly not until Mauga appears behind you

You found him with wounds on his chest and torso. You turn to look at him, "What happened?"

"Nothing serious..." He grins, showing his sharpened teeth.

"Just a minor injury, eh?" You raise an eyebrow at the mercenary, crossing your arms over your chest. Mauga simply shrugs as he sits on a table.

There was another period of silence between you two, and the atmosphere seemed to tense up considerably. This time, it's you who breaks the silence. "I'm sorry that you got injured. I don't know how I should react seeing someone else getting hurt so casually. You could have died out there. And that's not the worst thing that can happen," you said sarcastically and sternly.

He chuckles. "Oh really? Tell me more." He leans closer to your face, gazing deeply into your eyes. "Ah. So that's how it is."

You glare at him angrily, but he ignores you as you continue working. "Are you seriously going to mock me for worrying about you?"

"Not at all," he replied, with a hint of sarcasm. "But there is one thing that concerns me."

"What? You're going to insult me too, aren't you?" Mauga laughs while Y/N tends his injury.

The felt of your touch sends shivers throughout his entire body. He tries hard to suppress the sudden urge to grab her hand and hold on tightly. It's becoming harder to control these urges though. He shakes his head rapidly as he pulls away from you. He looks at you with narrowed eyes. "I'm not mocking you, you know?"

Your gaze flicks briefly to his. "Hm."

There was a short silence between you two, until you began to clean a cut on one of his legs. You noticed his gaze follow every movement of your fingers. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I'd prefer that you didn't ask questions so frequently, Teuila."

"Teuila?" You face him. "You know, I never asked you of this... But why do you call me that?" He lets out a deep chuckle and replies. "Because you look like Teuila. It fits well, doesn't it?" He flashes you a warm smile before turning his head away again.

You shrugged of his answer, continuing your work without saying anything further, although you were extremely curious. "Teuila... What does that word mean?" There's a brief moment of silence in between the two of you once you finished cleaning up the blood staining his leg. A faint smile plays across his lips again. "I thought you were better than that."

"And you think that you're better than me?"

"Yeah," he replies smugly.

"Then... You've obviously underestimated me, don't you?" You give him a challenging smirk. He returns the smile with a smirk of his own, but he then turns serious again. His eyes narrow. "Let me enlighten you. That name means 'flower'. Do you understand what kind of flower it means?"

You gave him a blank stare. He continues to smirk, waiting for you to understand his meaning. Eventually, you sigh, putting your hands on your hips. "Do I look like I care to know?" You scoff, rolling your eyes lightly.

Mauga laughs. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter what you think of it..."

There was silence between you two for a few seconds, and you looked away with furrowed brows.

You finish patching up the mercenary, placing some bandages around him and securing them securely. "Now that I finished helping you, you're dismissed." You professionaly said after you made sure that everything was covered properly. Mauga laughs at this. "Really? Now? Just like that?" He asks mockingly.

"Yes Mauga, I don't have any other duties besides tending to your wounds. I've been doing that for quite some time now," you responded coldly.

Mauga raises an eyebrow at this. "You know, if you start beginning to care about those wounds, you might find yourself losing them. If you want me to leave your clinic quickly, then you'll have to earn my trust first, which requires some work."

You sigh heavily. Of course Mauga will insist on making things difficult for you. "I am no doctor Mauga, I cannot cure your injuries." You sarcasticly said.

"Oh I know that. But you're still willing to take the risk." He chuckled.

"You wouldn't had to waste precious time coming here in order to talk shit."

Mauga laughs at you again, grinning like a cat that ate the canary. "I wouldn't waste too much time coming here either, but I also wouldn't be able to enjoy it quite as much because you'll be gone by then," he says confidently. "Besides, you're not exactly known for your patience." You roll your eyes, turning back to the table in front of you.

"You know I've always wondered what it feels like to be your patient," Mauga mused. "To be the one receiving the attention of the most skilled medic in your battalion."

"You must be joking," you replied, you know what he meant, not wanting to think that you would ever become his patient.

"No. You know me... " He grins. You groaned. "Don't' make such assumptions, we don't know each other all that well yet."

"Yet..."

You glared at him as he laughed. "Whatever. It seems like there's no stopping you, is there? We haven't even officially met yet, and already you're acting as if you have a good relationship with me." You sighed exasperatedly, massaging the area of your forehead in irritation.

"Listen, Mauga. My job is simple, I care for my patients and treat them well. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Oh yeah? Well, maybe I'm different," he said cockily.

"How? Are you not afraid of dying?"

"No... No I'm not... I've done so much more reckless things than death." His expression suddenly shifted to an emotionless one. For a moment, it felt almost as if he wasn't looking at you anymore. Then he chuckled softly, giving you a playful wink. "But I'm no saint."

"It must be hard to admit being human." You shook your head slightly.

"Sometimes." His grin returned to his features.

You couldn't help but stare directly into his eyes for a little longer, taking in how dark they actually are.

Mauga shows a huge plastered face. His still wearing his dumb smile.

You blinked at him.

He blinked back.

You rolled your eyes. "Stop smiling so much." He continued to laugh, as you turned away from him again. Mauga stood up and stretched lazily, "I have something to attend to, I'll be seeing you later," Mauga teasingly said as he made his way towards the door. He opens it, but he glances back.

A small smirk forms on his lips.

You watch him disappear outside the door, closing it behind him with a click. Once the door closes you let out a heavy sigh, resting your back against the wall behind you. Your heart is racing a mile, a minute, both at the prospect of having finally been alone with Mauga again, and the strange feeling within you after you spent several hours alone with him.

This feeling...

It's definitely not normal.

End of part 1

Part 2- ???

#mauga #maugaloa malosi #mauga overwatch #overwatch mauga #overwatch #mauga x reader #ow mauga #mauga ho'okano #overwatch x reader

309 notes · View notes

rhey-007 · 1 year ago

Text

The Family Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x reader x Pierre Gasly

Summary: Agreeing to do Charles a favor turns into hell when you meet his family for the first time and proceed to spend Christmas with them as his fake girlfriend.

(Based on "The Family Stone")

A/N: It's a LONG one just so y'know. I recently saw "The Family Stone" for the first time (LOVED IT, you have to watch it, I think I cried like 5 times lol) and an idea for this fic just randomly popped up in my brain shortly after. I've been writing this for past 2 weeks and finished it just yesterday. I hope you'll like it :)) I also wish everyone happy Christmas or whatever you're celebrating! 🎄🎉

Warnings/Tags: female reader, vegetarian reader, Atheist reader, toxic family, orphan reader - basically reader is op 😅, family fluff, toxic Pascale, mentions of sex

Wordcount: 9465

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🎄˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You never thought you’d ever find yourself pretending to be Charles' girlfriend. Yet there you were, getting out of his car seeing his whole family curiously looking at you through the window. You’ve known the Monegasque for a few years already and befriended him almost immediately but never met his family. That’s why you were the first person who came to his mind when his mother mentioned bringing a girl over for Christmas. His family was tormenting him about a partner for too long, so to make them calm down he asked you for this favor, even offering you money which you didn’t accept.

The house Charles rented in Austria was quite big, big enough to accommodate the 9 of you. It was made out of wood, with a forest near by and a great view at the mountains. It literally took your breath away. Although you felt a little uneasy feeling six pairs of eyes as the two of you made your way to the door.

“Don’t let them walk over you... They might be a little... Possessive and overprotective of me...”

The man explained ringing the doorbell and soothing your back with a smile. You had to admit you felt a little nervous. Heck REALLY nervous. You've heard so many things about them on your way there, some positive and some negative. Well... Mostly negative, but just because Charles wanted you to get ready for the chaos.

“Charlie!”

His mother appeared in the door a few seconds after, hugging her precious baby tightly and shooting you a glare.

“Hi mom, this is Y/N. I told you she’ll join us”

Charles disclosed before you greeted his mother with a firm handshake. You walked inside, the man instantly helping you with your coat, then introduced you to the rest.

“Y/N those are my brothers Lorenzo and Arthur. This beauty is Carla, Arthur’s one and only. And last but not least - Carlos and his girlfriend Rebecca, family close friends. Guys this is Y/N”

You smiled cutely at the 5 and hugged them gently before Charles and Arthur left to get your suitcases and Carla showed you the room you would stay in.

“Is everything alright?”

The girl asked soon, noticing you playing with your fingers uneasily. You shook your head with a soft smile. You couldn’t tell her you expected to sleep in a different room than Charles, could you? You both would feel uncomfortable as you were just friends in reality, but maybe in this skit you had to commit to the role a little bit more.

In meanwhile Arthur initiated a conversation with his older brother about you, who didn’t really like it.

“Really? This is her?”

The younger one asked taking out your bag from the trunk.

“What do you mean?”

Charles huffed slowly getting angry. From his whole family Arthur always seemed the most tolerant, but what he was about to hear changed Charles’ opinion completely.

“Come on man! Can’t you see it?! She’s just a bimbo falling for you money!”

“What did you just say?”

The older growled gripping Arthur’s collar and pulling close to himself. The vain on his forehead was about to pop and his face was all red as his gaze pierced through his brother. No one could say such gross things about you, especially not in his presence.

“Don’t you dare disrespect her like that”

He hissed letting his brother go and walking back inside with your bag. After they brought them upstairs, Charles dismissed Carla and Arthur before closing the door and sighing heavily.

“Charles?...”

You said quietly, sitting on his bed and playing with the hem of your beige golf sweater. He turned around to you and sat down beside. His hand rested on your thigh soothing it gently while he looked at you with an asking expression.

“So uh... I-I was hoping for a room for my own... I-I don’t know like a guest room or something... If that’s not a problem of course...”

Bitting your lip softly you looked down and felt the man’s hand stop. Was he disappointed? Yes. Did he expect that? Also yes. He exhaled gripping your limb.

“I can sleep on the floor, it’s not a pro-”

“What! No! It’s your room. I should be the one sleeping on the floor if there’s no free one! ”

You cut him off and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently.

“I can ask mom. I’m sure we’ll find something free. Now come on, let’s go eat something”

You followed the man downstairs to the dining room where Pascale and Rebecca set the table. When you eagerly offered your help the older woman completely ignored you, she didn’t even know you well enough to draw conclusions but apparently she already drew them on the porch. You wondered why though. Were you dressed improperly? If you could even call a beige sweater and black jeans an improper outfit... Maybe it was your makeup that alienated her from you. But you only wore mascara, some soft blush and lip oil...

Maybe it was Charles. Too perfect to have and don’t have a second half. Or maybe it was just Pascale hoping he would bring home someone she knew, someone she hooked him up with. You had no idea but had to know to improve your image in the older woman’s eyes and play the role of her child’s girlfriend better.

Once the table was ready, everyone sat down and said a brief pray – even though you weren’t Chistian you respected their beliefs and joined in the little act. By the time everyone started to eat you noticed your portion was just the same as everyone else’s – meatballs in tomato sauce with delicious puree and caesar salad - although you made sure Charles informed his mother you were vegetarian. You decided not to inform her by the dinner table, instead wanting to talk about it later in the kitchen alone but the blonde initiated the conversation herself when she noticed you pushing the meat aside.

“Is something wrong?”

She asked to which you didn’t respond at first, too occupied by staring at the plate. Charles’ poke got you out of trance and made look at his mother.

“Oh! Uh... N-No, everything’s alright. Why?”

“You didn’t touch the meatballs...”

The woman furrowed her eyebrows while you shrunk in your seat.

“Well uh... I-I don’t eat meat-”

Pascale burst out laughing not letting you finish your sentence, her kids following with faint chuckles, except of Charles.

“Mom, I told you million times...”

“But I didn’t thought you were serious! That’s just ridiculous! How can you live without eating meat? No wonder you look so weak”

You looked back down at your plate, not wanting to argue with her. Her words and laugh hurt you a tad, but Charles warned you she might be critical.

“Look at me when I talk to you-”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you miss but that’s who I am and you’re not gonna change that. I’m sure the meat is tasty, just as the rest, but I won’t eat it nonetheless”

You snaped not being able to hold yourself back anymore. No woman should disrespect another woman. Your words brought a smile to Charles’ lips, he was proud of you for stepping up for yourself as you never really did that, always being a shy mouse.

“I'm also not Christian but respect your beliefs and joined in your pray. So it would only be fair if you respected my eating habits- Or what I should rather call eating disorder because I am in fact deathly allergic to meat”

Pascale scoffed as if she was offended by your statement.

“That's an absurd-“

“Mom can we talk? “

Charles cut in, pointing his head towards the kitchen as he stood up. The woman rolled her eyes and followed after her son.

“Who the hell did you brought!? A vegetarian. Not a Christian. Tell me she's also a man! Or maybe she is a widow, huh? Oh Charlie, Charlie... You could do way better... “

Pascale grabbed Charles’ arms and was about to shook him when he shrugged her hands off and took a step back.

“Don't. Don't touch me. I told you she's a vegetarian. I told you so many times but of course you didn't listen. Why do you have such a problem!? You don't even know her yet! You always told me you'll respect whoever I bring home, even a man, yet you deny your words now!”

“I just want the best for my little boy... “

“I'm not your little boy anymore! I'm a grown ass man and I'll date whoever I want. Either you like them or not. So deal with it! “

Charles hissed before leaving the kitchen and joining you back in the dining room. He huffed angrily, flopping down beside you and continuing to eat without a word. An uncomfortable silence fell since he left that lasted until the end of the meal.

You felt responsible for ruining the moods of Leclerc's, especially their mother, but what else were you supposed to do? You couldn’t let anyone disrespect you like that and laugh into your face for your beliefs. After the dinner you locked yourself up in Charles' room.

“Well... That went great... “

You sighed flopping down onto his bed and whining loudly.

“Yeah... Amazing... “

The Monegasque nodded sitting down beside you.

“I'm sorry... I should have said I'm just not hungry. Maybe she would’ve let it go earlier then”

You said turning to your side and looking up at him. Smiling down at you, he brushed your hair away from your face and gazed a little too long before responding.

“It's okay... She would have to find out sooner or later... I'm sorry too. Didn’t expect she would be so possessive already... “

Charles layed down and turned his head to you, his hand grabbing yours and squeezing it gently. If he knew his mother would be THAT critical he wouldn’t have taken you with him. He cared for you too much to want to see you hurt, but his mom was too impossible to foresee even for him to predict that. He just wished that after that week you would still like to be friends with him... Maybe even more if the situation settles down and everyone calms down.

“Go take a shower and relax a little... I'll go find some mattress and set everything up... It'll be better for you to stay here. We don’t want another fight do we? “

You chuckled a little shaking your head and got up. Although you still preffered to sleep in another room, you didn’t want another quarrel with Pascale.

“This is gonna be an interesting week... “

You said before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving Charles alone with his thoughts. How was he going to convince his family and friends to like you, when the head of his family already hated you? He had no idea but had to come up with something soon, or else the Christmas would be ruined.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🎄˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Next day an excited and loud array of voices woke you up. You grumbled turning your back to the door and looking down at the floor where Charles previously slept. The mattress he layed on now cold with sheets neatly displayed on top, which meant he must have left quite a long time ago. You got up hearing the man in question call you and rubbed your eyes softly while leaving the room. Stumbling down the stairs your eyes felt heavy and with one too long blink you found yourself falling down, someone catching you quickly before you hit the floor.

“Are you okay?”

A male voice said, hot breath fanning your face and a smell of fresh mint, cedarwood and cinnamon hit your nostrils. When you opened your eyes you noticed it wasn’t Charles who caught you, the Monegasque standing beside you and the stranger holding your arm firmly.

“I-I’m okay... I just woke up and uh... I-I'm sorry...”

You mumbled pulling away from the handsome man that held you, now able to take a better look at him. He was almost as tall as Charles, had blue hipnotizing eyes, full pink lips and a gorgeous smile.

“Y/N this is Pierre, another friend of the family”

Charles introduced you to one another as you shook your hands. You had to admit the man was really handsome, even more than your ‘boyfriend’, making your eyes unable to tear away from him. Pierre smirked noticing you stare at which you blushed softly and looked away sheepishly. If he had to be honest, if not Charles he would’ve try to pick you up right there and then. You were a really beautiful gal, your ginger hair looked so smooth the only thing he wanted was to play with them the whole day, your green eyes shined like if you had stars in them and the soft freckles across your face complimented them so well.

“Look who woke up... Our sleeping beauty...”

Pascale scoffed seeing the three of you walk into the kitchen.

“Welcome Pierre”

She cooed giving the man a tight hug and a kiss to his cheek. You figured he was like a son to her, actually her favourite child as you later found out.

“Long time no see ma. How have you been? You happy with Charlie’s new girlfriend?”

He teased looking at you at which you just rolled your eyes pouring yourself a cup of warm coffee and ignoring the older woman’s response.

“Oh her? Please... He could’ve done waaay better!”

“What, why? Y/N’s a really beautiful girl and I bet she’s smart too”

The French tried to defend you but it was useless.

“She’s vegetarian. Says she’s deathly allergic to meat but I feel like that’s just a lie... And she’s not Christian. Sooner or later she’ll make my little boy convert!”

She whispered to Pierre, loud enough for you to hear.

“That’s it? Oh good thing she’s not a man!”

He joked with a loud laugh before stepping away and joining everyone by the table. You enjoyed your dark liquid sitting by Charles, his arm wrapped around your waist squeezing it from time to time as he conversed with his siblings, Carlos and Pierre. You observed the group carefully, sometimes looking at Pascale.

From what you’ve caught Carlos and Rebecca seemed the most unproblematic, which didn’t mean they didn’t talk about you behind your back, Lorenzo was the quiet one, not really joining in the conversation prefering to read his book and eat in peace, while Pierre, Charles and Arthur were the triplets of chaos with Carla and Pascale being their tamers.

You didn’t fit in with that family at all, always feeling their judging stares on yourself especially with Charles glued to your side. But there was one gaze except of his that felt different. Pierre didn’t judge your every step, his eyes were full of either admiration or sympathy whenever you looked at him, always ready to help if you needed it.

Leclerc also noticed his best friend’s weird interest in you but as much as you didn’t care he did. He felt jealous seeing him watch you with heartful eyes, touch you whenever he had a chance, constantly talk to you, and you only knew each other for a day! Charles’ gut wrenched at those moments, wanting to tear the man apart.

But why did he care so much? You were just friends after all. But he didn’t consider you just a friend. You were more, his whole world, a person he couldn’t live without. He knew that since you’ve met, trying to find a perfect moment to confess his feelings, wanting to do this on Christmas Eve.

That was also another reason why he asked you to pretend his girlfriend in front of his family. But with Pierre on his way... It would be hard. Especially if you felt too comfortable with the French man and told him the truth, then he wouldn’t hold back anymore and wrap you around his finger immediately and Charles couldn’t let that happen.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🎄˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

After yet another unpleasant dinner you left to pick a Christmas tree and finish up buying presents. It was a little tradition of Leclerc’s to pick the tree all together and you felt glad they wanted you to join them, at least Charles and Pierre did. You strode through the main square holding Charles’ hand and admiring the Christmas market.

Pierre walked by your other side, getting envious every time the Monegasque pressed a kiss to either part of your body or pulled you slightly away from him. He wished he could be the one to bring you to that beautiful place on a date, to have you all for himself, for you to be his... But you weren’t and instead Pierre had to pretend he was happy for you and his best friend and it was really hard at times.

“Come on kids! Faster! The queue is already forming!”

Pascale shouted from a few meters away as she turned around and saw your group getting distracted by the various stalls.

“Queue for what?”

You’ve asked the boys, confusion clearly painted on your face.

“Santa”

They responded in unison rushing you over to the rest.

“Santa? Aren’t you too old?”

“Naaah. We’re gonna get a family picture with him. It’s another of our traditions”

Pierre cleared out with a huge smile. As you waited the two men told you about and showed you every picture from previous years, making fun of little Arthur always crying sitting on Santa’s lap.

Tears slowly started to fill your eyes at the cute stories, but you’ve managed to blink them away quickly so neither men noticed them. You wished you could’ve had such a childhood, full of fun, family and love but you guessed it wasn’t meant to be. At least now you could have some fun, even though the majority of the family hated you.

When your turn came you positioned yourself freely, you stood on the right in front of the boys almost right next to Santa, but Pascale felt like something was wrong and started to rearrange everyone. Eventually Carlos, Rebecca and Lorenzo landed on the left, Arthur and Carla sat on the old man’s laps – just as always, she took your place in front of her two favourites and you stood next to Charles almost getting cut out of the picture.

Nonetheless the photo came out great and you were happy you received one of the copies. After meeting Santa you went to pick the tree and then everyone scattered to buy presents. Charles left with Pierre, the Spaniard with his girlfriend, Pascale with the youngest and you were left with Lorenzo.

“So uh... I-I guess we’re the only ones left...”

You muttered and the man nodded. You stood in the middle of the square in complete silence until he spoke up.

“Listen uh... I asked Charlie to leave us cause I wanted to talk with you. I hope you’re not mad...”

Lorenzo looked down and started to play with his finger nervously. You started to think of all the things he could want to talk with you about but what you were about to hear shocked you.

“Oh um... As long as you won’t offend me like the rest of your family does I won’t”

“I won’t. I promise. But- Can we go to a café?”

You agreed with a quiet sigh then followed the man. He brough you to a simple but full of Christmas atmosphere café and after you ordered some mulled wine and cookies he started.

“I wanted to talk about Charles...”

“What about him?”

The man hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling it.

“I’ve talked with him about you... I wanted to know what plans he has for the future and if he sees you there with him. He said he loves you so much that he would try his best to persuade mom to give him our grandma’s engagement ring after the holidays... I shouldn’t tell you this but I just need to know... Do you want to have a future with Charles or are you, what Arthur calls you, just a bimbo falling for his money?...”

Your face went pale at the information. You hoped Charles said it just for your skit to be more convincing but the way Lorenzo said it, all serious and without any emotions on his face, started to worry you. Trying to gather your thoughts your eyes closed and palms turned into tight fists, something you always did when thinking hard.

“Hey relax... I-It's just a question... I didn’t mean to stress you out...”

The oldest Leclerc grabbed your hands and rubbed his thumbs along them. It actually helped you relax and think of a suitable answer.

“I don’t get me wrong... I love your brother with my whole hear. I really do. But I can’t tell you if I’d say yes to his proposal. I usually don’t think about the future, just living in the moment y’know?”

Lorenzo nodded understandingly. It seemed like you’ve managed to convince him it was true, but started to feel bad for constantly lying to them, especially since Lori seemed like a really nice guy. You’ve chatted for some time when eventually he apologized for his actions.

“I also wanted to apologise for my behavior... I usually don’t act like that but as you might have noticed out mother's influence is too heavy. Nonetheless I know I did wrong offending you like the others and I'm sorry once again. Seeing my brother so happy while with you made me understand that he actually loves you and that you aren’t as bad as mom is painting you... I hope you'll be able to forgive me one day... “

You smiled softly at the man and his genuine apology. You were really glad that at least one of them apologized to you and couldn’t be mad at him.

“It's okay I forgive you”

While you conversed, Pierre and Charles run around the square looking for a perfect gift for you.

“Oh man... Couldn’t you buy something in Monaco?!”

The Frenchman sighed as they entered yet another store. This time it was a jeweler full of gorgeous sets and classy watches.

“You know well I had no time. Besides, I don’t even know what she likes. I specifically insisted on entering the market from this alley so I could see if her eyes would shine after she notices something-”

“But they didn’t. How can you not know what she likes!? She’s your girlfriend!”

“I’m not sure, okay? I want it to be something unique”

Pierre nodded and soon they started to look for something that would match your vibe. Finally the Frenchman chose a gentle, soft pink butterfly set he noticed you look at as you passed the store, later surprised Charles didn’t notice it too, while the Monegasque opted for something more bold – a silver necklace with an emerald and matching earrings. Now they just had to choose which one Charles was going to buy.

“The green matches her eyes and hair”

“But it’s too heavy for her. The butterflies perfectly match her gentle aura”

“But they’re so small and light you wouldn’t see them on her fair skin...”

Eventually Charles bought what he choose himself. Little did he know that the next day Pierre came back to buy you the set he picked. He was a 100% sure you would like his present way more than Charles’.

Was it weird he bought such an expensive gift for his best friend’s girlfriend? Maybe, but he couldn’t care less. It was the only way for him to please you. He also bought a bottle of vanilla latte perfumes as the smell reminded him of you.

If he could, he would’ve showered you in presents, luxurious gowns from the most expensive boutiques of the world, crown jewels, multiple cars... But you weren’t his, not yet.

The man felt the weird dynamic between you and Charles, it seemed like he was the only one who noticed it. Maybe you two were acting like the sweetest couple ever, madly in love with each other, but you weren’t going to fool him.

He noticed how awkward you could be whenever Charles kissed you and you never kissed on the lips, he was also the only one giving kisses, your lips never touched any part of his skin. Neither did you remember some of the most important things about the Monegasque even though he had no problem remembering yours. Pierre knew there was something going on and he was about to find out soon.

When the boys found you and Lorenzo the four of you met up with the rest in one of the main square's restaurant. You expected something expensive and exclusive as Charles usually insisted on eating out in such restaurants but walking into the premise, a warm, family atmosphere hit you.

You actually enjoyed this little change and the comfortable place itself. You took a place by a long table, Pascale and Charles on either end like the heads of the family, even though it was Lorenzo who was the oldest brother. Through time you've noticed that the quietest Leclerc was often ignored or left out, so you weren’t surprised when Charles took what should’ve been Lori's place.

While you awaited your meals, a little boy around 4 years old run up to your table with a basket of cutlery and a piece of paper with a pen on top. He handed the basket to Charles then pointed at the paper and pen. The man chuckled and signed the paper then gave it to the boy after ruffling his hair. You smiled brightly at their little encounter. When the boy was about to run away a waitress, probably his mother, stopped him and turned him around.

“Honey what do we say? “

They made their way back to your table and the little boy quickly thanked Charles before running off.

“I'm sorry, he's a little shy”

The woman explained bringing your group the food you ordered. She was tall and beautiful, had long blonde hair, ocean blue eyes, seemed around your age and clearly caught Charles' eye. It wasn’t like he immediately fell in lover with her, but he did find her attractive. She was a perfect match for him in Pascale’s eyes and she couldn’t care less that she had a kid already.

Throughout the whole dinner Pascale talked the young woman and her son up, inviting them to eat with you which the blonde had to deny due to her being at work but let her little boy join you. Soon Leo opened up and turned out to be a bubble of joy. He sat on Charles' lap eventually moving to yours when Leclerc had to use the bathroom. That’s when Pascale asked.

“So Y/N. Are you thinking of having kids with Charles? “

You choked on your drink hearing the question. Putting the glass away you coughed a little before responding.

“Well uh... I-I don't want to have kids... I'm not really a fan of them... And I'm sure pregnancy is a beautiful thing but it just scares me too much... “

The blonde laughed. She always laughed into your face when you talked about your beliefs and you slowly couldn’t stand it.

“Oh you're funny. Charles wants to have a lot of kids so it's not like you have a choice. You'll change your mind when he gets you pregnant “

“I'm sure you would love that”

You mumbled under your nose sarcastically knowing well she'd rather die than let her son have kids with you.

“It's her body and her choice mom. If she doesn’t want to have kids I'm not gonna maker her”

Charles said as he overheard a bit of your conversation. His hand squeezed your arm reassuringly. He would never make you do something you didn’t want to.

“Then you should change her for a new model! I want to have grandkids! Leo's mom is a really nice woman. Perfect for you and already has a kid so it wouldn’t be a problem for her to have more “

“Mom”

Charles sighed heavily rubbing his forehead, his hand moving to your lap and soothing it. He felt how tense and angry you were even though you didn’t show it.

“What? I'm just saying the truth-“

“You're just ruining the atmosphere. Y/N is a perfect girl for our Charlie and you should not care if she's a vegetarian, an atheist, a red head, doesn’t want to have kids, etc. etc. What matters is that she loves him and he feels happy with her”

Lorenzo stepped in getting annoyed by his mother. He had enough of her critical opinions about you as you really weren’t that bad.

“And you, Brutus, against me? “

Pascale gasped at her oldest talking back for the first time.

“Yes. I have enough of you talking bad about Y/N. We all have, as it is the only topic you seem to care about. It’s Christmas we should act like a normal, happy family we are and be glad that Charles joined us at all and not criticize his girlfriend”

“Lori's right... You went too far... “

Pierre added quietly. The rest of the dinner Pascale was quiet. She felt sad after her kids words but didn’t feel bad after hers.

Back at home the boys apologized for being so harsh and made up with their mother, but it wasn’t like she was going to be nicer to you.

“I'm sorry for today... “

Charles mumbled handing you a cup of hot cocoa with some vodka and joining you on the couch. You snuggled next to him and thanked for the liquid, then said after taking a sip.

“It's okay I understand it... She would never like me... Good think it's going to end soon... “

You whispered the last sentence loud enough for only Charles to hear, even though you were the only ones awake. Or so you thought. Leclerc wasn’t the only one that heard you. A few seconds earlier Pierre made his way down stairs to have some water and he overheard your short conversation. At first his heart ached as he noticed you two on the couch, getting jealous it wasn’t him instead of Charles, but then the knot loosened after what you've said.

“It's going to end soon”

He started to slowly connect the dots which were a good omen for him. On the other hand, Charles felt sad. He didn’t want this to end, never. The man hoped that he'd manage to make you fall in love with him in those 2 days, although you didn’t seem to change your thoughts about him yet. He had to try harder. That night you fell asleep in his arms, he took you to your shared room and layed with you on the bed. He was shocked but at the same time glad that you didn’t wake up and make him sleep on the floor.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🎄˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Waking up to finding yourself on top of Charles wasn’t the best experience. You didn’t remember much from the previous night and started to worry that something happened between you two.

For the rest of the day you tried to ignore him as best as you could, which made Pascale happy. She hoped that after your previous day's conversation, you had a talk or maybe even a quarrel with her son that slowly led to your breakup. It was difficult though. It was the Christmas Eve after all and everyone had some chores to do, sometimes landing you with him to do something or just constantly passing him by.

You didn’t intend on blowing up by the Christmas table but this time Pascale started to offend your family. A family that died in a car accident when you were little, the view of firefighters putting out the burning crashed car as you sat int the ambulance and watched everything engraved in your brain, hunting you almost each night. That was another reason why you agreed to Charles’ request. You wanted to finally spend Christmas with a family in a pleasant atmosphere. But it wasn’t given to you...

“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! “

You shot up from your place and shouted on top of your lungs at the blonde.

“IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU'RE SUCH AN ALIEN! “

“I'M AN ALIEN?! LOOK AT YOURSELF! I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING TO YOU BUT YOU KEEP ACTING LIKE A BITCH! ALL OF YOU DO! I REGRET AGREEING TO EVEN COME HERE! NOT MENTIONING SPENDING ALMOST THE WHOLE WEEK WITH YOU! FUCK IT I'M GOING HOME TOMORROW. I PREFER TO SPEND THE CHRISTMAS ALONE THAN WITH YOU! “

“GREAT! LEAVE AND NEVER EVER COME BACK YOU SLUT! “

You left the dining room in tears, quickly put on your coat and run out of the house. Pierre rushed after you while Charles and Lorenzo started to fight with their mother.

Pierre hopped into his car and quickly drove up to you. He softly honked at you a few times while calling your name.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

You shouted after stopping, mascara mixed with tears falling down your cheeks, hair disheveled and body trembling as you wore only your thigh length, red, sequin dress under the coat.

“Come in, please... You're freezing... “

After a few minutes of convincing, you got into the car and Pierre drove away.

“Where are you taking me?... “

You asked quietly, from time to time sniffling.

“Somewhere we can chill out in”

He explained squeezing your covered thigh. After you entered the vehicle he immediately took off his jacket and put it on your legs then planted his palm on your limb to assure you everything was going to be alright. Pierre parked his car in front of a bar then helped you out and inside. You ordered some drinks and filled one of the booths before chugging one after another. That's what you needed, to get drunk and forget about everything.

“Your family is hell... How do you even stand them!? “

You mumbled out with a hiccup. Your head was propped on your hand with the elbow on the table, you looked terrible, a wreck of a woman, but to Pierre you've looked more beautiful than ever. He was more than happy to have this little moment with you, even if it was supposed to end soon with you passing out. A thing he didn’t knew was that you had a really strong head and you were just a little tipsy after 3 drinks and 2 beers.

“I don’t know either... They're usually not that bad... I don’t know what happened this time”

“I happened. You can’t deny it... They just hate me for nothing and I can’t stand it anymore! “

Your free hand hit the table almost spilling your 3rd beer.

“Yeah I've noticed”

The man chuckled while you huffed unamused, your brows furrowing.

“It's funny to you? “

You hissed at which he shook his head.

“Maybe a little... “

Pierre admitted making you hit his head with a beer cap. He laughed once again this time getting one out of you too. Soon you got really comfortable with him and did what Charles feared the most.

“You know... There's something I want to tell you... “

“I'm listening”

“I'm... I'm not actually Charles’ girlfriend... We're just best friends and he asked me to come with him so you would stop asking him about a second half... Guess that didn’t turn out as he wished it would... “

You sighed melting into the couch. The man was silent for a while before he stood up and sat next to you.

“Then... You won’t be mad if I do this?... “

Looking up at him confused you felt his palm capture your chin and his finger brush along your bottom lip while gazing lovingly and deeply into your eyes. Before you could say something he connected your lips in a soft kiss, giving you time to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead straddling his lap and deepening the kiss. It might have been because of the alcohol, or just because of your mutual attraction that you soon found yourself naked in the back of his car, getting marked and taken great care of. It felt bad but oh so good... By midnight you came back home and continued your sinful ministrations in his bedroom.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🎄˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Waking up on the first day of Christmas by his side you finally felt like you belonged there, belonged to the family, belonged to him. You weren’t scared, weirded out nor uncomfortable, not like with Charles. You felt as if Pierre was the one thing that was missing in your life.

“Morning... “

Soon you could hear him mumble. You looked up with a soft smile and placed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Will you drive me back home?... I'm not sure I'll be able to look Charles in the eyes after yesterday... “

You sighed resting your chin on top of his chest and played with it's hair. Pierre raised his eyebrow at you, a slightly sad expression forming on his face.

“You didn’t... Enjoy it?”

He whispered at which you shook your head.

“No, no. I enjoyed it, I really did but... I don’t know... It felt a bit wrong... “

You looked away with a sigh thinking of Charles’ reaction if he found out what you two were up to the previous night. He would've been furious with both of you most probably starting a fight and setting the house on fire and neither of you would like that.

“Stay... Just for the breakfast... And I'll drive you home in the afternoon. You still have presents to give us don’t you? “

Pierre started to rub your back and draw patterns on it, trying to calm you down and make relaxed once again.

“I'm sure you wouldn’t like them... Besides Charles can give them to you-”

“But I want to receive it from you. Not from Charles. Not from Lorenzo. From you. Please... Stay... For me... “

Looking into his eyes you saw the sparkles and hearts once again, your heart melting at the sight. You exhaled and agreed reluctantly. That family was going to be the end of you... You were about to get up and start getting dressed when Lorenzo knocked on the door and walked in right after.

“Pierre where's Y/N-“

You hid your bare chest from his view and pulled away from Pierre but was unable to say anything when Lorenzo quickly left and shut the door.

“Fuck. We're fucked. Oh my god that was a bad idea”

You rumbled while getting dressed in the speed of light. When you shot out of Gasly's room you bumped into Leclerc, patiently waiting for you to leave.

“Lori I-“

“Shhh... It's not your fault. You let him fool yourself, but it’s no wonder considering the situation you’re in. I don’t blame you and won’t tell anyone. Now, go make yourself presentable. We don’t want mom to see you like this do we? “

The man placed a kiss on top of your head before rushing you away. You were really confused with his reaction but glad as fuck that he didn’t immediately run to Charles to tell him. After you walked away, Lorenzo stormed into Pierre's room.

“WHAT THE FUCK MAN?! “

Lorenzo tried to throw a punch straight to Gasly's face but due to being way weaker, the Frenchman easily stopped him pinning him down on the bed.

“Calm down and shut up”

He hissed before releasing Leclerc.

“Are you crazy?! She's Charlie’s girlfriend! He's your bestfriend! Your family! “

Pierre rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He knew well that what you did was wrong but he didn’t feel bad. Quite the contrary. He felt like on cloud 9 after spending the night with you. Not only because you had sex but because you could finally be alone. Just the two of you. No Pascale. No Charles. Just Y/N and Pierre.

In meanwhile you passed Pascale on the corridor. Of course she wasn’t happy to see you in the morning, but thankfully didn’t pay attention to your tired and disheveled state. Neither did the woman notice you leave Pierre’s room earlier.

“What are you still doing here? “

Turning around on your heel you took a deep breath and started.

“I decided to stay until tomorrow morning. Just for Charles. And I sincerely apologize for my yesterdays manners. I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that but your own actions aren’t the best either. I’m sorry once again “

The woman looked you up and down in complete silence before walking away without a word. The only thing she could admit she liked about you was that you were able to apologize and admit your mistakes, not like herself.

“Where were you?”

Charles asked as you quietly entered your shared room, hoping you wouldn’t wake him up but he was up all night.

“I’ve tried to reach you and Pierre the whole night. Where. Were. You. “

The man got up from the bed and slowly walked up to you, caging you between the door and himself.

“Pierre took me to a bar... We’ve spent there the whole night and came back like 2 hours ago... “

You gulped looking up at the man. Good thing you went to the bathroom and corrected your appearance before going in there or you would've been in way more trouble. Charles sighed, his hands capturing yours and squeezing them gently.

“I was looking for you everywhere... You don’t even know how worried I was... I know you were angry but you could’ve at least let me know you’re alright... Or make Pierre call me... “

One of his hands brushed your cheek as his eyes averted between yours and your pink lips. Charles wanted to kiss you so bad but figured you could be still mad and decided otherwise. Plus he was still furious at Pierre taking you somewhere without his knowledge, and if you blew up he would blow up too. Then knowing your both’s tempers the whole house would be on fire with Pascale and Arthur constantly adding gasoline.

“I know... I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to worry you, it’s just that... I couldn’t stand it anymore... I want to go home...”

A single tear fell down your cheek which Charles quickly kissed away. He hated to see you in that state, but what he hated even more was that he was the one who caused it. If he hadn’t asked you for that favor, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. He was a shitty bestfriend.

“I love her okay? I just... I just can’t help it... “

Pierre blurted out making Lorenzo shut up and look at him in disbelief. He couldn’t believe in the Frenchman.

“You- WHAT?! “

The Monegasque threw himself at Pierre, a fight unraveling between the two, destroying almost the whole room before they flew out of it through the door, landing on the floor with a loud thump. The noise caught everyone’s attention, saving you from the too uncomfortable conversation with Charles.

“Oh my god boys!”

Pascale tried to push them away from each other before getting shooed over by Carlos and Arthur, so she wouldn’t accidentally get hurt, who stopped the fight. Lorenzo wriggled in his younger brother’s arms angrily, blood running down his nose while Pierre already calmed down a little and touched his black eye gently.

“What have you done!?”

Pascale shouted at you with anger in her eyes. Sure the fight was about you but it’s not like you caused it... Maybe not entirely but still.

“Why do you already accuse me?! I wasn’t even there! I was with Charles!”

The middle Leclerc nodded confirmingly while his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you close in a protective manner. Pierre wanted to vomit at the sight, blood boiled in his vains and he was ready to start another fight this time with Charles but knew better than that. The man just wanted the Christmas to be over so he could finally take you out somewhere and spend some time with you in a normal, nice atmosphere. Without Charles, without Lorenzo, without his family. Just you and him. Together.

“But I’m sure it’s your fault! My boys aren’t my boys anymore since you’ve showed up here! You’ve ruined them! “

You were ready to throw a punch at her and you would’ve done that if not her whole family watching you. Instead you just kept rushing Lorenzo to the bathroom to help him with his nose and talk about the fight.

“I did not expect this from you...”

You huffed angrily, sitting him down on a stool in front of you.

“This is a house of fucking madmen...”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry... But when Pierre disrespected my little brother like that I just couldn’t hold it in anymore...”

The man sighed looking up at you with those big, brown puppy eyes of his. You softly shook your head before proceeding to wipe the blood away from underneath his nose.

“I think... I need to tell you something. You just... Need to stay calm okay?”

“I don’t like where this is going...”

“I know you love your brother with your whole heart and think I’m the best lady he could have but... This is all a lie... We’re not together... We’re just best friends... He asked me to join you because he had enough of constant questions about the other half and hoped bringing me with himself would solve it... But it didn’t. Instead making even more chaos...”

You said on one breath then watched Lori’s face for any signs of his reaction. The man was quiet for a longer time before finally speaking.

“Oh... That's... That’s a pity... And... And I started to get so happy you would be my sister in law... I’m sorry that’s- that’s just stupid”

The Monegasque stood up and was about to leave when you grabbed his shoulders and sat him back down. You embraced him in a warm hug and gave a gentle kiss to his head.

“I may not be your sister in law but you can always count on me. No matter what. You’re like a brother I’ve never had, Lori”

“Stop it or I’m gonna cry...”

He hid his face in the crook of your neck while hugging you back. He felt sad that you and Charles weren’t actually together and was sorry for his brother due to his apparent attraction to you and your obliviousness.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🎄˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

“This morning started just incredibly...”

Pascale sighed as she sat down in her armchair in the living room. The whole group already after breakfast now waiting for Lorenzo, who was still with you, to join them so they could unpack their presents. The atmosphere was dense, you could cut it with a knife, yet you still decided to give them your presents first to have it over already. You walked down the stairs with Lorenzo, both holding a few bags, then entered the quiet living room. Taking a deep breath you started your monologue while the Monegasque handed out your gifts.

“I know you have enough of me already, so you can do whatever you want with those. Sell them. Throw them away. Heck even burn them! I don’t care. I just wanted to say sorry that I ruined your Christmas and hopefully next year everything would be way better. Without me of course. Coming here I was hoping for an enjoyable, family Christmas – one that I haven’t had since I was five, when my parents died. But it turned out how it turned out and honestly... In contrast to what I’ve said yesterday – I don’t regret joining you. I am just crazy and this was fun. You can open those now”

With that said you let them open the gifts. Each one of them received a different, knitted by you, Christmas sweater. You once saw a really old family photo at Charles’, one where his father was still alive and Arthur was just a little baby. Everyone was dressed in sweaters like those, with huge smiles on their faces and you hoped to recreate that moment before you came there.

You’ve tried your best to freshen out their designs while keeping the overall vibe of each piece, spending a lot of time on making them without Charles’ knowledge. Now you couldn’t care less.

But seeing their reactions, especially Pascale’s, made your heart break in half. The older woman started to cry, the rest following after. Some just sniffling like Pierre or Charles, too manly to show any emotions. Some cried their eyes out like Arthur and the older woman, which shocked you a lot. You looked confused between them before Carlos spoke up.

“Herve used to make such sweaters for us every Christmas... Then took million photos of us wearing them, proud of his opus... We haven’t worn such sweaters for Christmas every since his death... Thank you Y/N... It’s the best gif we could’ve ever receive”

The man got up hugging you tightly, Rebecca and Lorenzo following shortly after.

“It even looks like my first one...”

Arthur blurted out, almost choking on his tears as he looked down at the piece then back at you.

“Thank you...”

“I... I had no idea...”

You mumbled out. Your heart melted at the view and you were more than pleased that they loved them.

“I’m sorry...”

Soon you heard Pascale whisper through tears. You smiled softly and crouched down in front of her embracing her in a warm hug. The woman didn’t say anything instead hiding her face in your shoulder. You held her like that for a longer time, not saying a word not wanting to startle her, as the whole family watched with huge smiles. When she pulled away you wiped her tears away and helped her put on the sweater.

“It’s beautiful... Thank you...”

The older woman said quietly, while looking down. She was too ashamed to look into your eyes. After receiving your gift she finally understood that you tried your best to fit into their family, not trying to impose your views on them which she accused you of.

She understood her behaviour towards you was horrible and undeserved as you didn’t do anything bad to her nor her son. Quite the contrary. You seemed to make Charles even more happier than he was.

The death of her husband and constant thought of loosing her children too changed her so much she didn’t even realise she started to be toxic. And it wasn’t only to you. Earlier she was critical of every previous girlfriend that any of her sons brought home, but she was just terrible to you and nothing could justify her doings. But your heart was too big to not forgive her after her apology. You felt it was sincere and even shed a tear before hugging her once again.

After you had your little moment with Pascale, Charles got up and announced.

“Well... I guess I should say sorry too. To all of you. For lying straight into your faces... We’re actually not together with Y/N. I just wanted you to fuck off from my love life, that’s why I brought her... I’m sorry once again... “

The whole family forgave him immediately, actually being a little sad it all was a lie as they saw the fire in Charles’ eyes whenever he looked at you.

“Tell her...”

Lorenzo tried to persuade his younger brother quietly, earning a confused look from you and Pascale.

“Tell me what?”

You asked soon, too impatient to wait. You watched the man make his way over to you and sit down beside you on the floor. He captured your hands in his and gave each a sweet kiss before confessing his love.

“I love you Y/N L/N. I always did... Since we’ve met I knew you were the one for me... I can’t live without you. Without your smile. Without your laugh. Those beautiful green eyes... I just- Will you be my girlfirend? This time for real?...”

Feeling uneasy with what you’ve just heard and all the eyes watching you, you looked at Pierre hoping he’d help you. He was hurt and scared you would say yes, making your eyes water.

“No you can’t- You can’t be in love with me... That’s a joke right? Please tell me it’s a joke”

Shaking your head you felt tears spill down your cheeks and an awkward chuckle escaped your lips. It was all too much for one day.

“It’s not like I haven’t been humiliated enough...”

You stood up from your place and was about to leave when Charles caught your hand and stopped you.

“Y/N I’m serious”

“Serious!? Nothing in this house- this family, is serious! You all hate me for stupidest things ever and you dare to say you’re serious!?”

You hissed, emotions steering inside of you, slowly spilling out.

“We don’t hate you...”

Arthur said but you knew better.

“OH REALLY?! And you of all people say that. Y/N this... Y/N that... A bimbo. A heathen. A leafhead! That’s what you all think of me... You think I’m not good enough for your Lord Perceval... And I don’t want to be! I’m an alien who ruined your Christmas and then slept with Pierre!”

You shouted out without realising what you’ve just said.

“What?”

Charles confused question made you comprehend your words and cover your mouth with your hands in shock. The room felt silent, only the faint sound of clock ticking could be heard until the middle Leclerc launched himself at Gasly.

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

“Not again!”

Pierre shouted as they dropped out the door, this time the front ones, onto the cold and wet snow. The other men tried to get them away from one another, each failing getting hurt in proces.

“You motherfucker how could you! You’re my best friend and you fucked the girl you knew well I love!”

Soon Leclerc straddled Pierre, palms tightly wrapped around his neck trying to choke him. You’ve never seen Charles so mad, which only confirmed his words that he indeed loved you. Otherwise he wouldn’t try to kill his bestie. Finally, after the 7 of you managed to pull them away you wanted to sink into the ground and die.

“You hate me now, don’t you?”

You asked quietly, entering the room you previously shared with Charles. The Monegasque sat on the bed and gazed at something way before you came there, not moving an inch even after you sat down next to him.

“I'm sorry-“

“I should’ve told you a long time ago... “

“But it my answer would've been no different... I love you Charles, but as a brother and nothing will change that. I'm sorry... “

The man layed down and placed his head on your legs as you started to play with his hair. You've talked for a long time eventually understanding each other's feelings and that nothing would come out of it.

With time and your help, Charles has managed to move on from you. Exactly a year later, you met at the same house once again, this time in a slightly changed composition.

Charles burst in with Leo in his arms and Kate following shortly after. They greeted everyone before finally walking up to you and Pierre.

“We have a little surprise... “

You bit your lip out of excitement while Pierre lifted up his last year's sweater from tour belly revealing a baby bump.

“We think of naming him Perceval”

The Frenchman teased as Leclerc gazed at you in disbelief and excitement.

“Oh you have to call him Charles or Charlie. You owe me that! “

He joked with a loud chuckled, secretly hoping you actually would do that.

"I thought you didn't want to have kids"

Kate asked. You gazed up at Pierre with a loving look them averted your eyes back to Charles and his new girlfriend.

"I think I'm ready"

You never thought that agreeing to help your best friend would change your life 360 degrees. Yet there you were, just a year later, finally accepted in the family, carrying it's another member. You couldn’t have wished for better holidays...

159 notes · View notes