#and I can't have just one part shaded so then I shaded everything else
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loafysainz · 3 days ago
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the parent trap (remake) | CS 55
cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader
warn: 100% fiction & remake
chap 1, chap 2, chap 3, chap 4, chap 5, chap, 6, chap 7
PART 6 MEETING MOM
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As the summer camp buses lined up, Mr. Hamilton stood on the main lawn, a megaphone in hand, his voice cutting through the chatter of children reluctant to leave.
“Okay, everyone, I hope you packed everything! Don’t forget anything, and we’ll see you next summer!” he called, hugging children who clung to him in farewell.
Amidst the emotional goodbyes, a pair of boys stood under the shade of an old oak tree, whispering fervently.
“They’re staring at us too much, Matheo. Do you think they know?” Mattia adjusted the collar of his shirt nervously, shifting from foot to foot.
Matheo, ever the confident one, rolled his eyes. “No way. Stop being so weird, or they’ll suspect something. Do you remember the plan?”
Mattia hesitated before nodding. “Yes, but… maybe repeat it? Just in case?”
Matheo sighed, exasperated. “You’re hopeless. Fine. I’ll go home to Mom, and you’ll go to Dad. We’ll ask them why they split and figure out how to fix it. Got it?”
Mattia nodded fervently, clutching his suitcase. “Got it. This is for the greater good.”
“Mattia Y/LN! Your car is ready!” Mr. Hamilton’s voice boomed, making both boys jump.
Mattia grinned and gave Matheo a quick hug. “Good luck with Mom. And remember, don’t mess this up!”
Matheo smiled nervously, his hands trembling slightly as he adjusted his suitcase. “You too. Tell Dad… I said hi, okay?”
“I will.” Mattia smirked, ruffling his brother’s hair and let him jogging off toward the car.
****
London was breathtaking. Matheo pressed his nose against the car window, taking in the winding streets, the azure sky, and the amazing architecture of London. His heart raced as they approached the house—a beautiful, modest villa with ivy climbing the walls.
When the car stopped, he hesitated for a moment before stepping out. A wave of unfamiliar scents hit him—fresh sea air, blooming flowers, and something else... coffee? He clutched his suitcase and stepped inside, greeted by the cozy interior and a handmade sign that read, "Welcome Home, Mattia."
He smiled despite himself. As he wandered further, the smell of coffee grew stronger. Following it, he found a man sitting in an armchair, newspaper in hand.
“Grandpa?” Matheo ventured.
The man lowered the paper, revealing sharp blue eyes and a graying mustache. “Mattia! Is that you? My favorite little gentleman?”
Matheo grinned. “It’s me, Grandpa.”
Grandpa stood, pulling him into a tight hug. “My god, you’ve grown! But what’s this?” He leaned back, eyeing Matheo curiously. “Are you smelling me?”
Matheo nodded earnestly, "I’m memorizing it.” His grandpa chuckle a little and say "You’re as peculiar as ever.”
Before Matheo could reply, a soft voice floated down the staircase. “Mattia? My baby?”
Matheo froze. His heart thudded as he turned toward the sound. There she was Y/N—his mother, descending the stairs, her arms outstretched.
“Mom!” Matheo cried, running to her. She swept him into a hug, kissing the top of his head as he buried his face in her shoulder.
"I can't believe it's you," Matheo tried to say through his sobs.
"And I can't believe it's you, baby. Tell me, who was the person who dared to cut your beautiful hair?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she ruffling her son soft hair.
"He was a friend from camp, is it bad?"
"No, of course not. It suits you very well"
Then Y/N noticed Matheo's hair color. "What? A dyed hair too?"
Matheo tried not to get nervous so he grimaced
"Does it bother you?"
"As long as you don't turn into a bad kid, it's all good. Is there another surprise you have to tell me, baby? A piercing? A tattoo?"
Matheo cried more at his mother's sincere concern, he needed this, he had longed for it so much. Y/N worriedly watched as his son shed more tears.
"What happen baby? are you feeling hurt or something?"
"No, it's not that. It's just that I missed you too much."
"I missed you so much too. It felt like an eternity the time you weren't by my side."
She cupped his face, her smile softening. “Welcome home, my little man. You’re finally here.”
Matheo clung to her again, his heart swelling with a mix of relief and joy. For the first time in months, he felt like he was exactly where he belonged.
****
His mother pulled back, her hands on his shoulders, and smiled warmly. "Come now, tell me everything! Did you like everyone at camp? Was it fun?"
Before Matheo could answer, Martin, the ever-dutiful butler, appeared at the door with a small, unexpected guest.
"Excuse me, madam," Martin said, holding up a small, scruffy real madrid tightly. "It seems we have a plush in the suitcase."
Matheo's eyes widened in panic. Madi?! His real madrid plushie, he snatched the plushie from Martin's hands. "Oh! Uh, that belongs to my... friend," he stammered. "The one I told you about from camp. I have no idea how it got into the suitcase."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, amused. "Well, since it’s not ours, shall we dispose of it?"
"No!" Matheo blurted, clutching the stuffed real madrid tightly. He cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. "I mean, no. I’ll mail it to him. He loves this thing a lot. Like, he can’t live without it. Especially not in, say, a foreign country."
"Very well," his mom said with a smile, clearly not buying his story but letting it slide. "Martin, that’ll be all. Thank you."
As Martin left, Matheo exhaled, holding Madi close.
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pearl-kite · 7 days ago
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Will probably never draw those tattoos again (thank you duplicate layer 🙏), but I rewarded myself with pseudo-blacklight.
Anyway, I'm calling this done, I only started it in August ( ̄y▽, ̄)╭
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dramaticals · 1 year ago
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following instructions
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pairing: theodore nott x gryffindor reader
summary: enemies with benefits with theo where they're constantly insulting each other but they still can't get enough. smut. au where characters at hogwarts are aged up to be 19+. mdni. / requested by anonymous.
author's note: co-wrote this with lily (@softeliza) <3 we honestly wrote this as a theo x hermione, but swapped hermione for reader
✧ read part two: following instructions (headcanons) ✧
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Theo's judging eyes watch as you dice the sopophorous bean before tossing it into your cauldron, your gaze shifting between your opened textbook and your cauldron. A bead of sweat drips from your forehead. You were meticulously following the directions, and yet something still didn't seem right about your potion.
Theo scoffs, shaking his head. What an idiot, he thinks.
"You're supposed to crush it." Theo says, demonstrating pointedly with a silver dagger and popping the squashed bean into his own cauldron. The cauldron bubbles, and the liquid shifts a shade darker.
"You're supposed to follow the instructions, which clearly say to cut it," you say through gritted teeth.
Potions was the one class Theo never followed the directions for, and yet he always seemed to be doing significantly better than you. You hated that.
"You know," you add with a huff, annoyance laced in your words. "Just because you don't respect the rules any other time doesn't mean you shouldn't follow a simple recipe."
There was something about pissing you off that gave Theo the right amount of joy to get him through the day. Hearing you huff at his words was like finding a jelly slug in a mountain of acid pops. It was glorious.
"Do you believe everything you read?" Theo asks mockingly, his eyes unmoving from the cauldron in front of him. He doesn't know why he was helping you—this was meant to be a competition for the coveted felix felicis. Maybe it was because Theo knew you weren't going to listen to him anyway. "Besides, I respect the rules." Theo says, but even he can't keep a straight face at his claim, his lips tugging into a smirk.
"I believe everything I read in a textbook," you say, your eyes narrowing and your mouth falling open in shock. Was he serious? "You know, that book of words that literally outlines how to make the potion? How else would you know how to brew it?" You hope he doesn't notice the genuine curiosity in your question. You actually wanted to know how Theo knew what to do all the time. It was so infuriating.
"Natural intelligence and charm." Theo says coolly.
In actuality, Theo had managed to find a textbook filled with inscriptions, correcting the printed text with tips and tricks on how to brew a potion every time. But he wasn't going to tell you that. Theo would gladly and happily let you believe he was gifted.
Theo peeks at your cauldron and has to hold a snort back. It looked just about ready to implode.
"This is a simple recipe, huh?" Theo muses. "Is that why your potion looks and smells like absolute shit?"
"Maybe I just thought I'd throw you a scrap with this one. I mean, we both know you're in desperate need of some luck, especially on the Quidditch pitch. If anyone needs this win, it's you."
"Oh, so you watch me on the pitch, do you?" Theo says with a smug grin.
You roll your eyes. Curse him.
Theo stirs counterclockwise a few times and then once again clockwise. The potion bubbles again. This time, it shifts into its final colour form. Bingo.
Theo, with an expression beaming with pride, calls over Professor Slughorn to inspect the potion. You zero in on Theo's cauldron and let out a small sigh. You didn't need confirmation from Slughorn to know that Theo did it. That bloody asshole did it.
Slughorn tosses a single leaf into the cauldron. The leaf disintegrates, and Slughorn clasps his hands together and announces, "We have a winner! Class dismissed!"
As Theo receives congratulations from all around, you begin to tidy your workspace, empty your cauldron, and pack your things. Anger boils in your stomach. As much as you tried to avert your gaze from Theo, your eyes are drawn to the tiny vile Slughorn passes to Theo. With a triumphant smirk thrown your way, he tucks the potion into his pocket before cleaning his workspace.
"Try to use it for something other than trying to sleep with girls," you quip, clutching your books to your chest. The confident, holier-than-thou persona slips over you like a glove. It was a default shield whenever you felt threatened, especially academically. And Theo was often on the receiving end of it all. "I mean, I'm sure you could use some luck in that department, but I doubt that's what Zygmunt Budge had in mind."
"I'm doing quite well in that department, actually." Theo says. With looks and an attitude like his, girls were flocking to him like nifflers to gold. "Much like potions, really. They all just come to me."
Theo awaits your signature glare and snarky remark, but he was simply met with a silent shove to his shoulder as you headed to the door. His brows furrow, disappointed in the lack of repartee, before Theo's walking after you. He falls into step with you, following you through the dimly lit corridors of the dungeon.
"What's the rush, little lion? Can't stomach losing?"
"I'm not in a rush; I just don't want to be around you. Don't you have some dingy hole to crawl back into?" You fume, your grip on your textbooks tightens, and your pace quickens.
"You wound me." Theo simpers, clutching his chest in mock-hurt.
Being in Theo's presence was getting you more and more riled up. You felt like you were minutes away from becoming a human version of a Filibuster Firework. Theo loved when you got like this. He can't quite pinpoint the exact moment he realized why he liked seeing you so worked up, but he's quickly reminded by the staggered breathing and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.
Theo continues to stroll alongside you, an air of arrogance in each step he takes. You quickly realize you have no idea where you're headed. The echoing of both your steps, coupled with the hovering nuisance on your side, makes you let out a sharp, frustrated exhale. You turn to Theo, glaring daggers into his stormy eyes.
"Can you just go? You're so—ugh." You growl, unable to find the proper words.
Theo's brows perk upward. There's something familiar about the expression you give him. He'd seen it before. Last time he'd seen it, the two of you ended up christening the boy's change room after a Quidditch match—Slytherin should beat Gryffindor more often.
Before you can articulate your frustrations, Theo grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into a vacant classroom. The feeling of his fingers around your wrist sends a jolt of warmth straight through your body. Theo pins you against the door, your books falling to the floor with a sharp thud. He skillfully locks the door with a slight flick of his wand before muttering the muffliato charm and putting his wand away. Darkened eyes meet your gaze, a mixture of amusement and want in his eyes.
"I'm so what?" Theo demands. His hand caresses your cheek before roughly wrapping around the base of your throat. "Use your words."
Your mind goes hazy, as if you've been confunded, the moment you feel his hand on your throat. You'd never admit how much you loved when Theo did that.
With a shaky breath, you meet his intense gaze to say, "Infuriating."
The way you reacted to Theo's touch was unlike any other girl he had the pleasure of fucking at Hogwarts. You were just so obvious, and Theo had no shame in admitting that he found it all extremely arousing. Of course, your mouth would claim otherwise, but Theo always had a plan to occupy your pretty little mouth.
You bite down on your lip, stifling the whimper begging to escape. Your breathing is in sync with each other, and the sexual tension makes the air around you thick.
"Are you going to fix it? Or are you just going to stand there like an idiot?" You tempt, leaning up slightly, just to see if he'll close the gap between your lips and his.
"I don't know," Theo responds, keeping a fair distance—only enough for your lips to brush lightly against his. To keep you wanting. Theo leans into your neck, ghosting breathy, teasing kisses up until he's milimeters away from your ear. "Are you going to say please?"
"You've got to be kidding," you huff, shooting a glare at Theo as you try to keep your breathing steady.
You weren't exactly experienced, at least not like Theo. You had a few moments with others, but no one had ever gotten you to feel as good as Theo did. It enraged you that Theo knew how good he made you feel, but you also took pleasure in knowing that you must be riling him up just as equally because Theo always seemed to come crawling back.
You bring your free hand up, tangling your fingers in his lush, brown locks, before tugging his head back a bit so he could look at you. He groans at this. It was one of many acts that really got Theo going, and it just so happened to be where your hands gravitated to the most.
"Please," you say, the tiniest of smirks on your lips.
Anticipation runs through your veins. You didn't need to say anything else. By the way he was looking at you, his lustful eyes boring into your gaze, Theo knew you needed him right now.
"Good girl," he muses with a cocky grin.
The first time Theo had praised you like that, while laced with ridicule, it had elicited a whimper that had him reeling. Today was no different.
Theo moves his hand from your throat and down to your waist, expertly pulling you away from the door and onto the desks behind him. Theo wastes no time and captures your lips with his. One hand finds your thigh, teasing up your bare skin and under your skirt. Your hands find and tug at his belt. Theo unbuckles it and tosses it aside.
"Let's see if you can keep it up." Theo says hotly against your lips.
It was in your nature to be good. But with Theo, there was that bubbling voice inside you that beckoned you to misbehave—to get under his skin. To be bad, all so he could teach you a lesson. Which is why, as Theo plants nippy, wet kisses down your neck, you can't help the words that blurt out of your mouth.
"Let's see if you can make me shake, like—what was that bloke's name..." You trail off, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt for another kiss and wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him close.
There was no other guy, of course, but you wanted him to think otherwise. The mischievous glint in your eyes changes to amusement as Theo's eyes darken. His fingers drag possessively across the insides of your thighs. It was hard for Theo to imagine you with someone else. You two weren't exclusive by any means, but the way you'd whimper and dig your nails into his back had him feeling territorial.
"Shake?" Theo asks against your lips. There was a tinge of something in his tone, and, deep down, you wanted it to be jealousy. "I'll fucking make you shake."
Feverish kisses move down your neck, eliciting a whine out of you, his free hands taking residence on the base of your throat. He plants open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive spots along your neck, sucking softly on the skin, surely leaving a mark everyone would be able to see. Theo pulls back to admire his work. He's pleased. You, on the other hand, were equal parts excited and annoyed. Excited because the sensation made the blood rush to your cheeks and to your core, and annoyed because you had to explain the markings to your friends.
"Theo," you hiss. "You know better."
Theo doesn't listen, obviously. Instead, he moves down your body until he's crouched and face-to-cunt. Slender fingers reach under your skirt, hook onto your panties, and slide the garment off. In an instant, Theo's between your legs, lapping his tongue relentlessly over your clit.
"Oh my god," you gasp, one hand grasping onto the edge of the desk, your back arching instinctively to bring yourself closer to his tongue. Your free hand finds his hair again, your hips rolling to meet his movements.
Theo's smirks into your core, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels you roll onto his mouth. Strong hands position themselves on either leg, urging you to spread your legs wider. You try to obey his silent requests, but it's not enough. Impatience hits him hard, and he's repositioning your legs so they're slung over his shoulders, a firm hand pushing your hips down onto the wooden desk. The new position allowed him to be flush against you, his tongue circling your entrance and lapping up any arousal.
"Theo," you moan, louder than normal.
You could tell he was pissed. It'd always been your goal, especially in intimate settings, but Theo had never been like this. He buries his face between your legs, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue works on your opening. He dips a finger in and withdraws it out of you slowly, contrasting his unyielding tongue. Your eyes flutter shut with pleasure.
"More," you choke out. "Please, give me more."
Your moans were fueling the already raging fire in him. Fuck, he needed to hear more of that. Theo uses his free hand to hold you steady, his tongue and lips unrelenting. He adds another digit inside of you, curling his fingers against your spot. Theo wanted to make you cum now more than ever. He wanted you to remember that even if you were fucking someone else, he was the only one who could make you unravel like this.
"Sit fucking still then," he growled against your slit, stormy eyes shooting up to look at you.
You fight hard to listen to him, desperately trying not to squirm. Theo was cruel enough to stop and leave you high and dry, so it was in your best interest to do as instructed. You dig your nails into the edge of the desk in an attempt to keep your focus on something other than the pleasure growing inside of you.
"Th-Theo," you gasp. "I—"
You're close, and you know what Theo wants—what he always wants. Theo wanted you to ask for permission, and with the image of someone else messing with you fresh in his mind, Theo needed to know he had that control over you now more than ever. Breathy pants fill the room, and you fear you can't hold it back any longer.
"Fuck, please. Can I please..." You moan, throwing your head back against the desk.
"Please what?" Theo says roughly against you. If Theo's cock wasn't already erect, it would be now. Your moans and gasps of pleasure were truly something that needed to be studied. Who knew these delightfully ragged breaths could come out of someone so irritatingly uptight? "Words, Y/L/N."
The fog of pleasure Theo has you in has made it impossible for you to do the one thing you pride yourself on: following the instructions. Typically, Theo would remove himself and make you beg for contact. Today, though, his actions were ceaseless. Despite your strong will to be good, your body wouldn't cooperate.
"Oh my god," you whimper, your back arching as an intense orgasm washes over you. Your body jerks—no, shakes—and your moans are broken up by desperate gasps as wave after wave hits you.
Theo curses under his breath. As pissed as he was that you didn't ask, Theo graciously allows you to release on his tongue, lapping up your sweet fluids. He'd reprimand you later. As you come down from your high, your body collapses onto the desk. You've never felt anything like that before.
Theo stands and slides his fingers out of you slowly. His darkened, lustful eyes are trained on yours. As much as he enjoyed the view, Theo wasn't happy.
"Don't," you breathe. "I know—I should have... I know."
"So much for following instructions," Theo says, disregarding your words. He licks your arousal off his fingers casually, and the sight makes you shift and clench your thighs together. He was the hottest irritant you've ever seen.
"Fuck off," you say with an exasperated huff. You prop yourself up by your elbows, slowly moving into a sitting position. "You didn't exactly help the situation."
So maybe Theo was being a bit of a prick. Not like he could help it—you squirming and moaning for him like that triggered something primal in him. Theo didn't want to stop; he wanted to make you scream for him. Still, it really shouldn't have been hard to ask.
By the way Theo was looking at you, you could tell it would take more than a crass brush-off to wipe the icy glare and pouted lips from his expression. Delicate fingers grip onto Theo's shirt, tugging him closer to you. You ghost your lips against his, meeting his steely gaze. "Will you let me make it up to you?"
You don't wait for a response. Instead, you nip at his bottom lip before pulling him in for a slow, deep kiss. Despite his annoyance, Theo kisses back, placing a strong hand behind your neck to keep you in place. The kiss is full of passion, anger, and need.
You maneuver yourself off the desk, unbreaking the hot kiss, as you reposition so that Theo's the one against the desk. He acknowledges you taking charge, and he allows it because, quite frankly, whenever you did take charge, Theo found it extremely intoxicating.
Only now do you break the kiss, peering up at Theo as your hands fumble with his pants. He kicks them off just as you remove your own top, making a point of leaving your bra intact. Theo's breath catches. God, he wanted to bury his face between the valley of your breasts.
"So?" You ask again, a devilish smirk on your lips, your fingers making progress on unbuttoning his collared shirt. "Will you?"
"Go on, then." Theo says. It's not lost on him how much leniency he gives you—not just in this moment. Any other girl who disobeyed his instructions would have been tossed aside so he could move on to the next. But with you, as vexing as you were, you also very much intrigued him.
At his permission, you lightly push him back so he's sitting on the desk, giving him a much comfortable position to watch as you slowly unhook your bra, letting the garment fall to the floor. You can sense his probing eyes on you, and you can't help the sly smile that appears as you straddle him, one leg on each side of him.
Theo's hands find your waist immediately, slowly sliding up your sides, to your bare back, and then to your front. He squeezes your breasts, eliciting a breathy moan from you. Your skin was soft under his rough hands.
"And I thought you were going to let that ego of yours make a horrible choice for the both of us." You tease.
Theo's too enamoured with this new position (and view) to respond to your jests. One hand rests firmly on your jaw as he pulls you in for a kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. Meanwhile, your hand moves to stroke his length, feeling Theo grow even harder at your touch.
"Shit," Theo groans.
"Someone's missed me," you whisper against his lips. Your thumb teases the tip of his cock, evoking a slight twitch out of him.
"God, shut up."
Theo wanted nothing more than to wipe—no, fuck—that smug expression on your face. And he's just about ready to take matters into his own hands, but you beat him to it.
Still wet from your previous orgasm, you were beyond ready to have Theo inside you. You lift yourself up slightly, guiding him to your entrance. He bites back a groan, his hands gripping your waist. You lock gazes as you slowly lower yourself onto him, your mouth falling open in a glorious 'o' shape as you take all of him into you.
While this wasn't the first time you had Theodore Nott resting deeply in your cunt, you took a moment to adjust.
"Are you going to move, or what?" Theo growls impatiently, bucking his hips and roughly nipping at the soft skin on your neck.
His impatience makes you smirk.
"Hey," you say, with a wry smile. You snake your fingers up to his hair, tugging his head back slightly to give you room to trail a path of kisses along his neck. You were going to prolong this and make you both ache for more. You didn't want to be the only one who was a moaning mess today. "If I'm making it up to you, then it's my rules."
"You know I don't give a shit about rules."
"Too bad."
This makes Theo's jaw clench. Before he can utter another quip, you're rolling your hips, feeling him embedded inside you. The movement feels good, but you know it's not enough for either of you just yet.
"God, I'm thankful your ego isn't the only thing that's big," you moan against his ear.
This makes Theo's jaw clench. You hear a string of curse words in another language, something you've noticed Theo does in moments where his brain had short-circuited. Enough sense, it seems, is knocked back into him as you can understand the breathless words, "And you take me so fucking well."
Theo's lips find the top of your chest, kissing down feverishly. His tongue flicks expertly against your right nipple as his hand moves to grip your bare ass from under your skirt. You arch into him, letting out a sharp gasp at the dual sensation. Despite his sentiment about rules, Theo lets you control the pace. He holds back the strong desire to thrust upwards into you, to fuck you hard.
"Oh, Theo," you whine as you continue to roll your hips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and lift yourself up, almost completely off his dick. Ghosting your lips against his, you push yourself back down—hard—feeling him go even deeper. You repeat these movements, your moans growing louder.
Theo can't stop the thoughts of how gorgeous you looked from clouding his mind. You weren't bad to look at normally, but seeing you fuck yourself with his cock had to be one of the wonders of the world. Only if that were a reality, Theo's not sure he could stand anyone else ogling you like this.
"Yes, that... that feels good." Theo groans, his cock throbbing from your movements.
You press your forehead against his, your eyes locking with his as you continue. One of the things Theo liked most about this little arrangement was your unnerving ability to keep eye contact—there was nothing more sexy than seeing the woman you were pleasuring crumble. Eyes can tell you everything.
"I'm trying to—" you breathe, rocking yourself against him. The movement wasn't nearly fast enough, but the way you were moving had him reaching depths you didn't know were attainable. "—to be good."
"Are you?" Theo asks between pants, squeezing your ass roughly. He leans into your lips. "Can you be a good girl for me now?"
You give him a small nod, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Your breath is quavering as you try to speak; your eyes re-lock onto his. "Am I not being good for you?"
This makes him chuckle darkly. Theo wasn't an idiot. He knew you practically yearned for his words of praise. The knowledge was something he took advantage of from time to time, withholding and dangling his praise in front of you just to see how far you'd go to make him say it.
To prove to Theo you were being good, you push yourself down onto him roughly, a whimper escaping your lips. You increase your speed, unable to hold out anymore, fucking yourself hard, deep, and fast on his cock.
"Fuck." Theo swears, and he can't help himself now. Hands keep you in place as he fucks up into you, cock hitting your spot repeatedly and mercilessly. He relishes the feeling of your wet core around him. Your clit presses against his pelvis at each thrust.
You took pleasure (literally and figuratively) in Theo's natural ability in knowing. He knew what to say, how to touch you so you were melting, and when to take back control. His hands digging into your hips told you everything you needed to know: Theo was going to fuck you senseless.
"I want to be good," you pant, your nails digging into his back, grasping for a release.
"Then you know what I want to hear."
He holds you flush against him, arms wrapping around you as he continues to thrust. He can feel his own pleasure grow. Your head falls onto his shoulder as you feel it building up in your stomach again. This time, you weren't going to wait until it was too late.
"Theo, please," you practically beg. Theo was the only person who'd ever make you feel like this, and you were past the point of caring whether he knew it too. "Can I cum, please? For you."
"Yes," Theo hisses. He was close too. "Cum for me. Now."
Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, your head falling back as you drag your nails into his skin. Theo continues to thrust up sharply, chasing the high for the both of you. You clench around his length, the sensation mixed with your moans pushing Theo over the edge.
"That's my good girl."
Theo's praise for you was not lost in the chorus of breathy moans and grunts of pleasure. His addition of the word 'my' made you shake even more as another wave of pleasure washes over you.
"Oh, God, yes, Theo."
His hand moves to the back of your neck desperately, guiding you into him for a passionate kiss as he spills into you with a moan.
Ragged breaths fill the room. There was always a moment of limbo after every encounter—a moment where the two of you stayed entangled and nestled with each other, savouring the proximity and stealing last, sweet kisses. You knew the moment you got up, the two of you would go back to despising each other again, until next time.
"So?" Theo asks after a moment, expectant of an answer, as if you could read his mind. "That dumb git you mentioned earlier. Was he better than me?"
His question makes you smirk, and you have to bite it back so as not to show how content you were that he had lingered on that thought.
"You don't want me to answer that," you say, giving him a small pat on the shoulder before getting up. You slip back into your clothes and adjust your hair.
The answer should have been obvious to Theo, but you weren't giving him the satisfaction of admitting it because it did nothing for your reality. This was as far as this would go. Theodore Nott was a pretentious asshole who just so happened to be a good fuck. There was never going to be more than that.
"You definitely exceeded expectations today, Theo," you say, gathering your books from the floor. "But you didn't do anything worth an outstanding."
With a swift flick of your wand, you unlock the door and leave Theo in the vacant classroom, already fantasizing about next time.
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mcrveilles · 2 months ago
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just this once // ln4
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still overwhelmed, still can't believe this this is getting to much attention 😭 ❤️🫶 THANK YOU FOR YOUR FEEDBACK AND YOUR RESPONSES I LOVE EVERY BIT OF IT
also why are my WORDS LIMITED???? I want to write MORE wtf tumblr
word count: 3.7k with some extras in the form of social media posts warnings: casual intimacy themes, secrecy, conflicts of loyalty, romantic tension and suggestive content includes: friends to lovers, fluff, best friends little sister, brothers best friend summary: after things cooled down for a little while, you have to face lando and your feelings once again... this time with consequences.
tag list: @sltwins @sarx164 @hadesnumber1daughter @fullmugwolffish @willowsnook @sageskiesf1 @f1fantasys @cmleitora @rawr-123s-stuff @leclercdream @chezmardybum @landossainz @cloud-55 @sillyfreakfanparty @harrysdimple05 @mwuaferrari @milkysoop
PART FOUR/2 previous part - next part
The sun dips low over the sky, painting it in shades of amber and rose as you finish getting ready. You’ve been pacing your hotel room for the last twenty minutes, debating whether you should even go to this dinner. Max made it sound casual, just friends and some of Lando’s crew, but the way your stomach twists tells you it’s anything but simple.
Since Monaco, things with Lando have been... complicated. He stayed over after Qualifying, the two of you wrapped in an unspoken agreement to keep things platonic. But nothing about the way he looked at you, the way his presence filled your space, felt friendly. Then there was the race—his P4 finish—and the small get-together afterward, where you both acted like nothing had happened. Since then, his schedule’s relentless pace kept you apart, exchanging only a few texts that danced around anything real. Just keeping in touch.
And now, this dinner.
You change into your favorite outfit, something understated but flattering, and force yourself to take a deep breath. It’s just a dinner. You’re friends, you tell yourself.
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yourusername London, United Kingdom
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The restaurant hums with life as you step inside, trailing Max and Pietra. Warm light glints off polished wood and delicate glassware, and the buzz of conversation wraps around you like a soft blanket. You glance at the private room Max mentioned earlier, feeling your pulse quicken. You know who’s waiting there.
When you walk in, the first person you see is him. He’s tipped back in his chair at the head of the table, laughing at something someone said, his grin so easy and familiar it makes your chest ache. Then his eyes land on you, and for a moment, everything else in the room seems to blur.
“About time,” he says, standing up in one smooth motion. His voice is light, teasing, but there’s something in his gaze that sends a spark down your spine. He greets Max with an effortless handshake-hug, Pietra with a peck on the cheek, and then his attention falls to you.
“Stranger,” he says. “Lando,” you reply, keeping your voice even as you raise an eyebrow. His grin tilts, just a little lopsided, and the look in his eyes feels like a challenge.
The dinner is exactly what you expected—good food, great wine, and laughter that fills the space like it’s been waiting for all of you to show up. Max, seated on your right, is in big-brother mode, making sure you try everything and nudging your glass whenever it’s even close to empty. Across from you, Pietra chats animatedly with one of Lando’s friends, and you smile along, but your attention keeps drifting. Lando is at the far end of the table, surrounded by people who hang onto his every word. He’s effortlessly charismatic, telling some story you can’t quite hear, but that has everyone laughing. Except every now and then, his eyes meet yours, just for a second. It’s like he’s checking in, or maybe daring you to look away first.
You don’t.
When he gets up to refill his drink, he passes behind you, his hand brushing lightly over your shoulder. The touch is so brief, so casual, that no one else notices. But it sends a shiver through you anyway. “Having fun?” he murmurs, his voice low and private, meant just for you. “Loads,” you reply, trying to sound unimpressed even as heat rises to your cheeks.
His chuckle is soft, almost affectionate, before he moves away. You tell yourself to focus, to ignore the way your heart is beating just a little too fast.
Later, the table splits into smaller conversations, and somehow, Lando ends up next to you. Max is too busy laughing at something Pietra said to notice when Lando leans in, his shoulder brushing yours. “This is torture,” he says under his breath, his knee knocking lightly against yours under the table. Your throat goes dry. “What is?” “You. Wearing this dress.” His voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes you hold your breath.
You don’t know how to respond, and for a moment, you just sit there, the noise of the room fading into the background. Then Max glances over, and Lando straightens, all easy charm again. “What are you two whispering about?” Max asks, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Lando doesn’t miss a beat. “Just telling your sister she has terrible taste in wine.”
“Hey!” you protest, and the table laughs. Max shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He drinks that sparkling stuff like it’s water.” The conversation moves on, and you pretend everything is normal, even as Lando’s knee stays pressed against yours under the table. And you don’t move away.
As the laughter around the table flows easily, your own chuckle gets caught in your throat when Lando leans back in his chair, stretching casually, but you don’t miss the way his knee once again brushes against yours under the table. It’s subtle, almost as if he’s testing to see how long he can get away with it without anyone noticing. Your pulse quickens, and you do your best to focus on Pietra, who’s telling an animated story about a mishap at her last work event.
But Lando is… distracting. His words replay in your head on an endless loop—”this is torture”—and you swear you can still feel the ghost of his knee against yours under the table. It’s maddening, really. The ease with which he teases you under Max’s nose, how effortlessly he switches back to joking with the group like he didn’t just upend your entire sense of composure.
You glance his way and catch him smirking, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. His focus shifts back to his drink, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression—playful yet deliberate—that makes it impossible to ignore him. You try to shake it off. You tell yourself that it’s just Lando being Lando: cheeky, teasing, good at making people feel... something. Just like always. Except this doesn’t feel like always, and that’s the problem. You’re trying to focus on the ongoing conversation. Something about summer plans, maybe? You’re not even sure anymore. Lando is leaning back in his chair again now, one arm draped lazily over the back of his seat, looking every bit like someone who hasn’t a care in the world. But he keeps glancing at you when he thinks no one else will notice.
“Alright,” Max announces suddenly, clapping his hands together as if he’s about to make a grand proclamation. “Drinks back at mine?” There’s a chorus of agreement around the table as chairs start scraping against the floor and people gather their things. You hesitate, glancing at your phone like you might have an excuse to slip away. But before you can concoct some half-hearted reason to head back to the hotel, Pietra loops an arm through yours, effectively trapping you. “You’re coming, right?” although she forms it as a question, you know it’s really not.
“I wouldn’t want to miss out,” you reply lightly, smiling at Pietra. Who, satisfied with your response, let’s go of you to join Max again. Your stomach twists again when you see Lando standing by the door, your coat in his hands, waiting like he has all the time in the world. His curls are a little messy, his grin lazy, yet sharp as his eyes meet yours in the dim light. It’s as if he can sense your hesitation and is daring you to pull away. “Come on, stranger,” he says softly, leaning just close enough that his voice feels like it’s wrapping around you. “Can’t bail now.” You narrow your eyes at him, trying to ignore the way your heart jumps at the way he towers ever so slightly over you. “I didn’t say I was bailing.” “No?” His gaze drops briefly to your phone in your hand, then flicks back up to catch yours. “Good,” he says, his voice dipping lower, quieter. “Because I wasn’t going to let you.”
It’s infuriating how easily he gets under your skin. With a huff of mock-annoyance—because genuine annoyance is impossible when he’s looking at you like that—you slide your arms into the coat he’s still holding and step away before the spark between you burns any brighter.
The group spills out into the cool night air, laughter echoing down the cobblestone street as everyone makes their way toward Max’s flat. Pietra loops her arm through yours again, chatting about some new café she wants to try tomorrow for breakfast. The walk to Max’s place is short, but it feels like an eternity with Lando so close behind you in the group. Every step feels charged, like there’s an invisible string stretched taut between the two of you. You try not to think about what he said earlier—or how his knee pressed against yours, or how warm his hand had been on your shoulder at dinner—but it’s useless. He’s inescapable, even when he isn’t touching you.
When you finally reach Max's apartment, everyone else appears calm and carefree. However, you have come to the realization that you can no longer let Lando do this to you. You don’t know if he isn’t aware of the drama it would cause if Max found out or if he just doesn’t care about the consequences—you however do care about the consequences. While never openly spoken about, you know how your brother would feel about this. He’d hate it. Lando is his best friend and you are his little sister. Two things that, frankly, shouldn’t mingle so close. So you make the decision to talk to Lando tonight.
It’s not like you don’t care or that you don’t feel things when you’re around him, but is acting on it really worth the pain it could and would cause?
Eventually everyone is spread across the living room, laughing and reminiscing, the buzz of good drinks and great music keeping the energy alive. You’re perched on the arm of the couch, balancing your drink as Pietra chats animatedly beside you. Across the room, Lando lounges in a chair, looking infuriatingly relaxed, his attention shifting to you every few minutes. It’s subtle, the way his gaze lingers just a fraction too long, but you feel it—like a spark skittering across your skin. You pretend not to notice, focusing on Pietra's story about her disastrous attempt at paddleboarding last summer. But when Lando catches your eye mid-sentence, raising his brow in a silent tease, your stomach flips.
Max comes in from the kitchen, holding a fresh beer, his presence immediately commanding attention. “Alright, whose idea was it to leave me in charge of snacks?” he announces. “I could barely find some crisps, let alone figure out this sweets situation.”
Pietra groans. “Max, it’s literally all in the cupboard. You just have to put it in some bowls.”
“But that’s where you put them!” Max protests, plopping down beside Pietra. His knee bumps yours, but his focus is on his girlfriend, who shakes her head fondly. Lando seizes the moment to move closer, taking the newly vacated spot on the couch next to you. “You okay there?” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear. “Perfectly fine,” you shoot back, matching his tone with a pointed glare. But your attempt at indifference falters when his knee brushes yours—deliberately, you’re sure. “You’re really gonna keep your distance tonight, are you?” he asks, his voice light but carrying that edge of challenge that makes your heart race. “I am sitting next to you,” you counter, swirling your drink for effect. “You’re just mad I’m busy talking to everyone else tonight.” He chuckles softly, the sound brushing against your skin like velvet. “Give it time.”
Before you can respond, Max’s voice cuts through the room. “What are you two whispering about now?” His tone is joking, but there’s a hint of suspicion there that makes you stiffen. “Just telling your sister she needs to get some updated LN4 merch for the weekend,” Lando says smoothly, leaning back like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Excuse me?” you retort, feigning outrage. “That stuff is expensive, genius.” The group erupts into laughter, and Max shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Of course, it is. You should stick to the Quadrant merch anyhow.”
"Hey now," Lando protests with a grin, "I'm hurt, Max. Thought we were friends." The conversation shifts, but you can't shake the tension thrumming beneath your skin. Lando's presence beside you is electric, and you're acutely aware of every subtle movement he makes. You try to focus on the others, laughing at the right moments and nodding along, but your mind keeps drifting back to the man next to you. While Lando's quick thinking may have diffused the situation, it only reinforces your resolve to talk to him. You need to set things straight before they spiral out of control.
As the night wears on, you find yourself growing more and more restless. You've been careful to mingle with everyone, pointedly avoiding extended conversations with Lando. But his presence is a constant, hovering at the edge of your awareness. You catch his eye across the room more than once, and each time, that familiar spark ignites in your chest.
Finally, as the party begins to wind down, you see your chance. Lando slips out onto the balcony, and after a moment's hesitation, you follow. The cool night air is a relief after the warmth of the apartment, and for a moment, you just stand there, letting it wash over you. "Thought you might follow me out here," Lando says softly, not turning around. He's leaning against the railing, his profile illuminated by the city lights below. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Lando, we need to talk."
He turns to face you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "I was wondering when you'd say that," he says softly, a hint of resignation in his voice. You step closer, careful to keep some distance between you. The city sprawls below, a tapestry of twinkling lights and distant sounds, but your focus narrows to the man in front of you. The air feels thick with unspoken words and simmering tension.
"This... whatever this is," you begin, gesturing vaguely between the two of you, "it needs to stop." Lando's brow furrows, a flash of hurt crossing his features before he schools his expression. "What exactly are you referring to?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "The touches. The looks. The... the way you've been pushing boundaries tonight. It's not fair, Lando." Your words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Lando's jaw clenches, a muscle twitching as he processes what you've said. For a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the city below and the muffled laughter from inside.
"Not fair?" Lando repeats, his voice low but charged with emotion. "What's not fair is pretending there's nothing between us." He takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours in the dim light. "Do you really want to ignore this? To act like we don't feel anything when we're around each other?" You bite your lip, trying to ignore the way your heart races at his proximity. "Lando, it's not that simple. Max is your best friend, and he's my brother. We can't just—"
"Can't what?" he interrupts, his voice rising slightly. "Can't be honest about how we feel? Can't take a chance on something that could be amazing?"—"Shh!" you hiss, glancing nervously at the sliding glass door. "Keep your voice down. Do you want everyone to hear?" Lando runs a hand through his curls, frustration evident in every line of his body. "Maybe I do," he says, though he lowers his voice. "Maybe I'm tired of sneaking around, of pretending I don't want to be near you every second we're in the same room."
His words send a shiver down your spine, and you struggle to maintain your composure. "It's not just about us," you argue, your voice rising slightly. "What about Max? He's your best friend, Lando. How do you think he'd react?" Lando's eyes flash with a mix of frustration and determination. "I care about Max, you know I do. But I'm not going to let fear of his reaction dictate my life. Or my feelings." You glance nervously towards the sliding glass door, worried that your raised voices might carry inside. The last thing you need is for someone to come investigate. "Please, keep your voice down," you hiss, even as your own emotions threaten to overwhelm you. "No," Lando says, his tone firm but not unkind. "I'm tired of keeping quiet about this. About us." He takes another step closer, close enough that you can smell his cologne, a mixture of citrus and something woody that makes your head spin. His proximity is intoxicating, and you find yourself swaying towards him almost unconsciously.
"Lando," you breathe, your resolve weakening with every passing second. The city lights dance in his eyes, casting shadows across his face that only enhance his features. You can see the determination there, the longing, and it mirrors the ache in your own chest. But he's not listening. His eyes are locked on yours, dark and intense in the city lights. "I can't keep pretending," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Can you?" And before you can answer, before you can even think, he closes the distance between you.
His lips crash against yours, urgent and desperate. For a heartbeat, you're frozen, caught between shock and desire. Then, as if a dam has broken, you're kissing him back with equal fervor. Your hands find their way to his curls, fingers tangling in the soft strands as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The world narrows to this moment—the taste of him, the warmth of his body, the way your heart threatens to burst from your chest.
It's everything you've been trying to deny, everything you've been afraid to want, distilled into a single, burning instant.
But reality crashes back in like a bucket of ice water, and you jerk away, your eyes wide with panic, breathing hard, your lips tingling and your mind reeling. "We can't," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Lando, we can't do this." Even as every fiber of your being screams to pull him close again. Lando's eyes are wide, his chest heaving as he stares at you, looking as stunned as you feel.
Before he can respond, the sound of the balcony door sliding open makes you both freeze. You take a hasty step back, your heart pounding so loudly you're sure everyone can hear it. Max steps out onto the balcony, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene before him. You and Lando are standing suspiciously close, both of you looking flushed and slightly disheveled. The air between you crackles with tension, and for a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the city below.
"What's going on out here?" Max asks, his tone light but laced with suspicion. His gaze flicks between you and Lando, searching for answers in your expressions. Lando, ever quick on his feet, lets out a low whistle and gestures broadly at the cityscape. "Just admiring the view, mate," he says, his voice only slightly strained. "Can't beat a night like this, can you?" You nod enthusiastically, perhaps a bit too eagerly. "It's gorgeous," you agree, willing your racing heart to slow. "I was just telling Lando how I could stay out here all night."
Max leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. The look he gives you is one you've known since childhood—the one that says he's not quite buying what you're selling. "Really?" he drawls. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like you two were having a pretty intense conversation."
You feel your face flush as Max's gaze bores into you, his expression a mixture of concern and growing suspicion. The air on the balcony suddenly feels thick, charged with an uncomfortable tension that even the cool night breeze can't dispel. The city lights twinkle innocently behind you, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat. Lando shifts beside you, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, a reminder of what just transpired.
"Max," Lando starts, his voice steady despite the circumstances. But Max holds up a hand, silencing him. "Max," Lando repeats, forcing a laugh that sounds hollow even to your ears. "Mate. We were just..."—"No," Max says, his tone sharp. "I want to hear it from my sister." His gaze locks onto you, and suddenly you feel like you're fifteen again, caught sneaking out to a party. Except this is so much worse.
You take a deep breath, willing your voice not to shake. "Max, it's not—"
"Don't," he interrupts, his eyes flashing. "Don't lie to me. I've seen the way you two have been acting all night. The whispers, the looks. And now I find you out here, alone, looking like..." He gestures vaguely at your disheveled appearance. Your stomach drops as you realize the jig is up. Max's eyes narrow as he looks between you and Lando, taking in your flushed faces, the slight dishevelment of Lando's curls where your fingers had been moments ago.
The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken truths. You can hear the muffled sounds of the party inside, laughter and music that seems to belong to another world entirely. A cool breeze ruffles your hair, carrying with it the scent of the city and the faintest trace of Lando's cologne.
"How long?" Max asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "How long has this been going on?" You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Lando steps forward, his shoulder brushing yours in a gesture that feels both protective and defiant. "Max," he begins, his voice steady despite the tension thrumming through his body. "It's not what you think."
"Oh really?" Max's laugh is bitter, cutting through the night air like a knife. "Because what I think is that my best friend and my sister have been sneaking around behind my back. Am I wrong?"
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sun-kissy · 10 days ago
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espresso | j.p
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james potter x sunshine!reader
summary: james sees you at a cafe, and is enamoured by your brightness. you pay for his drink, and he can't help falling in love.
cw: fluff
James Potter could count the number of times he’d been told he was bright with both hands – what a ray of sunshine he was, how he lit up the room with his smile – and he still wouldn’t have enough fingers. 
But one look at you made him question every such compliment he’d been given. If he was sunshine, you were the whole goddamn sun. 
So close, yet so far; you stood just a few feet in front of him in the queue to the café counter. And he was lying if he said he wasn’t already enamoured.
James thought the word pretty must’ve been made to describe you, all soft curves, sweet smiles, daisies in your braid and little white dress. You were laughing brightly, phone clutched to your ear. He felt a small pang of envy for not being the one to elicit it. 
But he felt lucky to even be able to see you like this — in all your beauty and light and gentleness. It wasn’t even winter, and he’d gotten so close to warmth. What a great day.
You step forward for your turn, and James shamelessly gazes at you. He sees you beam at the barista and order your drink, before jerking your thumb backwards. He steps forward curiously.
“... yeah, I’d like to pay for the person behind me, if that’s okay,” you smile and nod. 
His heart does a little somersault in his chest, and he feels the affection pool like honey in his throat. So you didn’t just look the part, you really were sweetness personified.
James steps up to order next, clearing his throat. You’re stood beside him, patiently waiting for your drink as you type away on your phone. Maybe this is his chance.
He clears his throat and looks at the barista. “Hi.” Loud. Too loud. “Um… I’d like to get an espresso, please.”
“Okay, anything else? Your drink’s been paid for by the person in front of you.”
“Oh, wow,” he tries to look surprised, nervous fingers going to rub the nape of his neck. “Wow, that’s… that’s really nice. Um, I’d like to pay for the person behind me too,” he says slightly louder than he would’ve. 
You hear, just like James wanted you to, and turn to give him a small smile. He feels like doing a victory lap around the block.
That’s until a confused Sirius pokes his head out from behind James, giving him a strange look. “Prongs, weren’t you gonna pay for me anyway?”
James internally smacks his palm to his forehead. Instead, he turns to glare at Sirius, hoping it conveys everything he wants it to. Sirius just blinks.
He sighs and turns back to the barista embarrassedly, hoping you hadn’t noticed.
He’s about to open his mouth to wave it off when he hears you giggle, and swivels to look at you. It’s like everything in him instantly softens, seeing the sparkle in your eyes and the bashful way you press your hand to your mouth. You’re looking at him like he just said something really funny. He thinks maybe he’d be the butt of every joke if it meant getting to see that smile.
James mindlessly pays for his drink before eagerly stepping towards you. His heart feels like it’s going to start doing jumping jacks, or maybe he might, to get rid of this insane amount of anxiety. “Hi.” He hopes he doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels.
“Hi,” you smile sweetly, slurping on your drink.
“You owe me one,” he blurts out.
“Huh?”
God, now he’s really messed up. “No, no, I meant –” he runs his hand through his hair, “– I owe you one. For, you know, the coffee?”
“Oh,” you laugh softly, easing up a little. He releases the breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “No, you don’t. That was the whole point of it.”
“Let me take you out.”
He almost lets out a squeak after having said that, immediately pressing his palm to his mouth like he’d just revealed a national secret. What was wrong with him? He watches your reaction carefully.
You smile, and turn the loveliest shade of pink he’s ever seen. “You don’t even know me.”
“I want to know you.”
His tongue seemed to be speaking of its own accord. Maybe he’d give it a tongue-lashing later, but for now, he’d let it get him a date.
You consider him for a while, smile widening slightly. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” he exhales with a grin, running his fingers through his curls again. “Okay, sunshine. I’m James.”
You blush at the term of endearment. “Hi, James. I’m Y/n.”
“Hi,” he mumbles. “Hi, Y/n.”
You both stare shyly at each other for a moment, like you’re taking the other in. Getting to know them, even though you weren’t, really. Maybe that’s how it had always been; the sun knew of its sunshine even though it couldn’t see the rays itself.
You clear your throat bashfully. “I have to go.”
“Oh, um – okay, wait –” James scrambles in his pocket for his phone before holding it out to you. “Your number?”
Your face lights up as you take it and type your number in. You hand it back to him. “Does tomorrow work?”
He nods enthusiastically. “Yup, tomorrow works. Same place?”
“Same place.”
“Okay, then,” he exhales, unable to stop the smile on his lips. “Bye, sunshine.”
“Bye,” you grin shyly and wave, pressing your straw to your lips as you turn around to leave.
A daisy falls out of your hair, landing softly on the wooden tiles. James picks it up and tucks it into the shirt pocket next to his heart.
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schattenhonig · 9 months ago
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The A in LGBTQIA+ doesn't stand for aspec because they're not repressed!
(please read the disclaimer at the end of this post)
Ummm, excuse me? Would you mind telling me what your definition of repression is, then?
Because I feel repressed when a doctor asks me about my sex life, and if I say I have none, it gets marked down as a symptom without being asked if I suffer from it.
I feel repressed when my gyn tells me I can't get a hysterectomy yet despite losing so much blood on every period that I need to take iron supplements all the time, because I could change my mind about not wanting children (which is a whole other post, I know, but it's most likely linked to sex).
I feel repressed if I can't use dating apps or platforms because my sexuality doesn't even exist there, and the one time I tried, I got called names because I didn't want to meet for because it was clear where this date would go, despite my explicit "what I'm looking for".
I feel repressed when I think about how recently a paragraph was finally abolished in my country that considered sex a vital part of a marriage, basically entitling the spouses to having sex with their partner (both gender neutral, because entitling people to having sex with somebody else by law is wrong. It's basically a rape permission).
I feel repressed when I can't watch any film or show without it being about love and/or sex, no matter if it fits the narrative and furthers the plot.
I feel repressed when I plot my own stories and automatically put a romantic couple in there as main characters, even though I have no idea why this would be important for the plot. Not even my own stories, my own thoughts are mine.
I felt repressed when I was asked accusingly in a relationship if I wasn't missing something before I even knew asexuality as a spectrum was a thing, and having to lie about this being a side effect of my medication instead of genuinely not feeling attracted to someone in this way.
I feel repressed when I can't tell people I'm not sexually attracted to them because they will take this personally no matter how well I explain myself.
I feel repressed when everywhere I look there's advertising relying on naked skin, suggestive posing and objectification. Why are expensive cars still presented by women considered beautiful and tempting? It's not like that's necessary to convince people of spending so much money on a thing that gets you from A to B. Couches with women in smart dresses and high heels. That's not what a normal person looks like on a couch. But the worst is a truck in the town where I live: it's from a small fruit and vegetable stand, so whenever I see it, it comes from the warehouse, delivering groceries. On it is a woman clad in very little, presenting fruit. I'm sorry, but why? Does a misogynistic picture convince you of the necessity to avoid scurvy?
I feel repressed when I tell people and get the answer "you just haven't found the right person yet", because there are two possible assumptions from that point: I'm either not trying hard enough (so it's basically my own fault) or something about me is not right, appalling even (which circles back to I'm not trying hard enough or frames me as a victim of my genetics, upbringing or circumstances to be pitied).
Do not tell me how I feel. Do not try to tell me everything is fine and I shouldn't complain or ask for acknowledgement if everywhere I look, I'm reminded of how odd, how weird and how not normal I am. How much it inconveniences you to even acknowledge my existence, let alone respect any of my traits, views and choices.
And while I can only write from my own asexual point of view, I wrote this with all kinds of flavours of aspec in mind, so I'm explicitly including aromantics, aroace people and every shade of the spectrum in this. Not all my examples may apply to you, but I hope you can find something to relate to.
ETA: please feel free to add your own experiences of repression!
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shutupheathersorryheatherr · 3 months ago
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"Forever"
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✰—-summery: seungmin has been realizing that he wants a forever with you. Honestly in whatever way you’ll have him. And maybe little domestic things like kisses on cheeks, lacing fingers a shared lived in home and a big ass ring on your finger, but now so overcome with love, he’s coming to realize he also wants to breed you. He knows no kids are on the radar for now… but a guy can have a fantasy right? And a guy can dream right?
✰--- approx: 30 min read
✰--- A/n i really have noting to say. I’m gonna continue my smutober series in the coming couple weeks yall trust 🙏🏼I have a few more smut fics that I’ll be getting to over the next couple weeks so think of it as an expansion of my lil smutober;)
✰— warnings/info: kissing, smut with sort of a plot ig, cursing, fluffy lovey dovey, tooth rotting fluff basically, breeding kink, raw fucking (do as I say not as I do wrap before u tap yall) ummm sex dream? As always bad spelling. Think that’s it
~this is simply a piece of fiction. My imagination onto “paper.” This is in no way is mean to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone.~
if you don’t have an age indicator saying you’re not a minor in your blog then I will be blocking you! So minors dni!!
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Seungmin can't count how many times hes fallen in love with you. from every time you laugh to the way you smoothed our your shirt that one time and have never done it since but for some reason hes been thinking about for two months.
hes a guy of repetition. he likes having a routine, he loves that youre a part of it. and for him, thinking about you is always a part of it. but so much so that he sometimes finds himself daydreaming and distracted, he should be embarrassed, having to ask people to repeat themselves because "oh wow y/n likes that shade of green that they're wearing" but he really doesn't care. but at the same time you make him work that much harder. make him want to do better to either make you proud or impress you like some eighth grader he doesn't know.
he loves his job, he really does, but all he wants to do sometimes is come home to you. it makes him not only work faster sometimes but harder. maybe because he wants to be good enough and worthy for you and your love or maybe just because you bring that side out of him more than it already is. whatever it is he knows you just make him better. and its cheesy and mushy but you really do complete him
his arm looks better when you hold it, his pictures feel empty when youre not beside him, and you feel the same way too-- the bed always is unreasonably cold when he isn't behind you holding you close to his heart. or when hes not inside you, lets be honest.
he laughs at the members when they tease him about you having "girlfriend privileges". and tells him he doesn't see it. but at first he really didnt. now he sees it so well he hears it. he prides himself in making you happy, being the best boyfriend he can. thats one of the things you love about him he takes everything on with a passion, devoted to his goals.
sure he still pokes fun at you and is a lovely little menes but lets be real he lovey dovy with you a lot of the times too! and you get away with so much more with a lovesick puppy look on his face than anyone else. he wouldn't go all aspiring poet and say youve changed him but youve just... brought out another side of him. and as much as he gives you hard time you both know he loves it.
and you secretly love it when he says ew when you kiss him then he tackles you peppering your face with them a mintute later
the slight obsession with you is borderline concerning he thinks at this point-- once someone flirted with him at a bakery and the only thing he could think about was how they were standing in front of that dessert he knew you liked and he politely just asked them to move cause "I think Im gonna buy that for my parter I want to take a closer look". needless to say the person got the message.
though he didn't even fully realize they were flirting with him until he told you the story of how "a week ago when I was at that bakery someone was talking to me but I wasn't paying attention cause they were standing in front of the cold case." he though they were, with the over the top smiles and that little giggle. but sadly he was easily distracted by the thought of how "yn would like this"
The downside to how much he thinks of you is that at some point during the day if he isn't careful hes gonna get half hard. he feels like some pre pubescent boy that can't control himself and he hates it. nevertheless, the girlfriend privileges continue-- with the playful banter between you two and how much you tease him. not many other people could get away with poking seungmin in the cheek and saying "poke" for a full minute without him saying something.
in fact, hes smiling.
and not that youre complaining one bit when sees you after a long day and pounces on you, trying to rip your clothes off. but make no mistake, as stated before hes soft for you. well, mentally at least, cause most of the time he can't seem to control his boner around you. but all this overwhelming feelings of love has to go somewhere... right?
and it just so happens to be expressed and poured out so wonderfully in bed. you think you noticed it before he did, but there has been a pattern with him as of late--
it all started with a team a out you. noting too out of the ordinary. you started on top of him, as he helped you bounced on his cock, so hard and leaking for you. somehow you needed up beneath him after you came, but seungmin wasn't done yet, still pumping into you, somehow deeper than before trying to reach spots he never breached. "damn I love you so much. mhm, gonna fill you up" he breaths out in his dream. your eyes rolled into the back of your head in pleasure, "you gonna put a baby in me? please?" you moan, cupping his cheek and holding his hand in such a sweet and domestic way that it should offset the way he was filling you up with his cum, slipping out of you then plugging your pretty hole with his fingers, thrusting anything that leaked out back in. gotta make sure it takes right? make sure you get nice a round a swollen in a few months
but it didnt, the look of pure love you gave him as he was babbling about breeding you? fuck that really got to him. dream you wanted this too? dream you loved and trusted him so much and wanted forever with him just as he did with you? So when he woke up, still hard and cum leaving a dark stain on his boxers. he didnt know what to do. usually he'd know the answer or honestly go to you to help him. but this was... different, uncharted territory. sure there was always the thought of something like this in the back of his mind but it was never this strong. let alone had he ever had a dream about it.
He turns to the clock, 3:43 sharp and after tossing and turning, flipping his pillow over three times and realizing it felt better on the first side he still can’t fall asleep. He lets his eyes graze over your sleeping still figure, you’re faced away from him body covered by the blanket. But the curves and dips of your are still visible. It’s dark but he feels like he can still see you so clearly. He could probably feel every bit of your too over that thin little blanket. If you could even call it that I mean it wasn’t really doing much to warm you he was sure. That’s when he pulled you close by your middle, pressing your back up to is chest, his fingers dipping under your shirt like it always does when you two cuddle (though when you’re awake it sometimes slides higher than others) god your skin was cold.
He subconsciously moved you closer moving his hips flush with your ass. Though in hindsight that might’ve not been the best idea. Seeing as he was now fully hard from his dream and your body settling into his wasn’t doing him any good. “Min?” Did you really have to call him that right now? But against his better judgement since it very much was 3 am in the morning right now, he stayed glued next to you. “Min?” For once he fumbles, “yeah?” “I know you’re awake.” He bends his neck down to peck the top of your head “doesn’t mean you have to—“ “thank you, I was a little cold” you interrupt him while turning your body around to face him, hooking a leg over his”
well if you didn’t know before now you do. He thinks. “I was already half awake don’t worry,” he sighs “I figured” you smile at the fact that by now he knows all your little ins and outs all your little quirks. “You we’re kinda loud” you chuckle, and before he gets a chance to respond you’re reaching over him to turn on the light, it’s something so mundane so normal but somehow he’s still enamored by you. And with the way you’re basically on top of him, titties in his face he’s not getting soft anytime soon. “I think you’re hearing things.” He playfully scoffs “I think I should schedule you an ear appointment. My grandma knows a good one, maybe you can get matching hearing aids” you chuckle “and I think you still have a hard on”
that shut him up quick enough. you smile to yourself, you swear the man was all bark no bite sometimes when it came to you. seungmin glances over to the clock again. "sweetheart its so late its early..." he mumbles, sliding a not so sneaky little hand up your torso. his hands finds the side of your breast, then your collar bone, then settles back down on the neckline of your sleep shirt, playing with it.
"your dream sounded interesting," you peck his cheek and he flushes as if he didnt just dream about pumping you full of cum a second ago, "what was it about?" you ask, ignoring his comment about the time. you lace your fingers with his and he brings your hand with him under the blanket, settling it on his now painfully hard feeling cock straining against his boxers without a word, just that mischievous little devils grin.
you peck his lips this time, seungmin craining his head to chase you, lips still slightly smelling of that chapstick you always put on before bed. his tasting salty like the light sheen of sweat that coats his face from his dream. though you plan on making him much hotter in the next coming minutes. he pulls you back down to his lips by the back of your neck. a gentle but firm touch that mad you go crazy. the kisses are needy, lustful, but somehow also full of pure love and passion. he doesn't quite know how to express all the good that he feels for you, he isn't sure he ever will, but whenever he kisses you like this of late, he hopes his feelings will get through to you.
and you feel the emotion he pours into it when it happens, you really do. he pulls away a little later, never tired of kissing you and hand down in-between your legs rubbing your soaking pussy. "I just" he smiles through his gasps of air, "love you so much" it was sad really, that that was all he could say but he felt something for you that words cannot express in the English language, or Korean, or any language hes come across.
his eyes look like that one begging emoji. he just... he needs you to understand. he doesn't know why he just blurted it out. but you had just made this cute little face of pleasure. pleasure he was giving you. you felt good because of him. and it had just slipped out!
you didnt realize how much you wanted him, how desperate you were until in a matter of minutes youre gasping and whining for him. "fuck, breed me, make me yours" you say, barely over a whisper into his ear, chin on his shoulder. your sleep shirt bunched up around your hips that raped around his, his arms are laced behind your back, hugging you a keeping you close chest to chest as you bounce and rock yourself on his dick. so caught up in the moment, he misses the smirk on your face when you said it, blissfully unaware that you knew full well what he was dreaming about. and how hot you found it.
he whines, "no dont say that youre gonna make me cum... not--" he breaths out when your cunt tightens around him just so, "not now--" he already had you close to cumming earlier, when he was guiding your wt heat along his leg, grinding you on him. but he wanted to take care of you first ya know? be a gentleman. but he knew he wasn't going to last long if you kept talking like that. he reaches down to your core and swollen bud, rubbing it just how you like.
"well fill me up then min." you accentuate your words with a long, languid rock of yourself on him, his leaking cock hitting just where you want him to. god you feel so full, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head thinking about how full you'd feel with all his warm seed inside you.
"no baby please dont say that either." his voice is strained, his words are lazy unlike how he usually sounds. thats hw you knew he was already close. "no please, I wanna feel so full." you pout, and his mind goes almost blank. he moves his free hand to your hip bone, guiding you as you impale yourself on his cock ever time you lift up and slam back down. though he wasn't really doing much guiding as he was mostly enjoying the soft squeeze of your skin, fingers on your plush thighs. he subconsciously nibbles at your collarbone, surely it'll leave a mark later you said you wanted him to make you his right?
"but you already have my cock in you baby. dont you feel it?" he wonders aloud, meeting your pumps up n' down with renewed vigor. "its so hard for you, god you make me so hard" you still your movements, letting him do most of the work thrusting up into your pussy, making wet squelching noises that fill the room.
"mmhm so big n' hard. cum inside me? I know you'd fill me up so good."
"oh god." that nearly sent him over the edge. you look down to where your bodies meet and his hand is rubbing you, fuck his hand looks delicious, fingers perfectly long and hand with veins popping out. "I need you to cum with me." and not long later you do. you cm hard, knees shaking and out of breath. you'd asked him to cum inside and thats what he does. you feel your insides flood with warmth. damn he must've cum a lot.
he stays inside for a moment and is about to pull out when you stop him, hand on his bicep, "keep it inside." you tell him, and this time he catches your smirk. And seungmin just laughs, kissing your neck in a manner so sweetly you almost forget about his dick inside you. “You heard my dream?” Though he already knew. “Mmhm” “I love you so much” his nose presses into your neck “I wanna spend forever with you” “aw me too min” “hm was it good for you then too?” “So you didn’t hear me moaning for you? Guess not” you tease and he scoffs. “I did. And I think the neighbors heard too. We’ll have to talk more in the morning and do some googling I guess. But thank you” “you’re thanking me now?” You laugh. “Yeah I—“ “I think it’s hot too don’t worry. That’s why I want you to stay inside. We want it to take huh baby” he shivers, running his palm up your spine.
seungmin was a reasonable guy, he knew that this was alll fantasy and having kids wasn't on your radar right now. but he still loved it. He didn’t know what it was, maybe it was just you two growing together, growing intertwined. But as of late, he’s just been wanting or maybe finally realizing just how much he loves and cares for you. how much he wants with you. seungmin hasn't really thought of it before, but maybe he wants and already cherishes those cute little things with you-- like the kisses on cheeks when one of you greet the other at the door, the waking up next to each other at dawn, and everything in-between.
and maybe one day, if you'll let him, he wants to put a big ass ring on your finger. well, some day.
and you loved it too. And him. The way he took his time with you no matter what it is no matter if he already did it a thousand times. Just like a second ago, he caressed every curve and did of your body. Constantly wanted his hands on you, kissing from your neck to your lips over and over.
“Why are you so silent? Don’t you want it too honey?” He smiles from ear to ear “ugh sweetheart you’re amazing” he mumbles before kissing your lips.
~end
thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed please leave some love like comments or a reblog if you did!
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frenchkisstheabyss · 9 months ago
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♥︎ Pairing: boyfriend!jisung x chubby!fem!reader
♥︎ A/N: If you're a chubby/thick/plus sized babe feeling not so great about yourself and you happen to love our sweet Hannie, I hope you find some comfort in this.
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boyfriend!jisung who fell for you the moment he saw you but took forever to work up the nerve to ask you out on a date because he was afraid you'd say no.
boyfriend!jisung who's an introvert that doesn't like to go out a lot but went out every weekend for a whole month just for the chance to hang out with you.
boyfriend!jisung who spontaneously confessed his feelings for you one night and turned the cutest shade of red when he found out you felt the same.
boyfriend!jisung who's hangs on every word you say so when it was time to plan your first date he knew how to make it perfect for you.
boyfriend!jisung whose friends adored you before they even met you because this man couldn't stop running his mouth to them about how amazing you were. They've literally never seen him so head over heels.
boyfriend!jisung who had you stay over his place so he could make you breakfast the next morning accompanied by flowers and a little card he handmade asking you to be his girlfriend.
boyfriend!jisung who doesn't get it at first when you say people won't believe that someone like him wants someone like you.
boyfriend!jisung who took the time to understand your feelings, reassuring you as much as you needed that it didn't matter what anyone else thought. You're the most beautiful woman in the world to him. How could he not want you?
boyfriend!jisung who praises your body every chance he gets. When you take him shopping with you he can't resist telling you how nicely that sundress suits your figure or how cute those pants make your butt look.
boyfriend!jisung who always has to sneak in a few extra minutes with you in bed in the morning so that he can cuddle and squeeze your soft body. You're the reason he's late all the time but it's worth it.
boyfriend!jisung who never makes you feel like you need to be ashamed of your squishy belly, rolls, or chin. If he catches you sulking he'll kiss every part of you until it feels loved.
boyfriend!jisung who's known for being funny but will turn into an absolute demon if anyone ever fucks with you or makes you feel bad.
boyfriend!jisung who checks in with you throughout the day to make sure that you've eaten. On your bad body image days especially he'll either cook or buy you your favorite foods to avoid you skipping meals.
boyfriend!jisung whose camera roll is filled with pictures of you two together along with a bunch of secret ones he's taken when you weren't looking. Some are from angles you'd feel make you look bigger but he's smitten with every picture of you. You'll have to fight him to delete them.
boyfriend!jisung who always lets everyone know that the two of you are together. There's never a question of how proud he is to tell the world you're his.
boyfriend!jisung who'll stop everything to be with you when things get really bad. You can cry in his arms for hours if you want. He'll always be there to comfort you.
boyfriend!jisung who lets himself be vulnerable, opening up to you about his own insecurities because he knows you'll be there to comfort him too. Of course you are.
boyfriend!jisung who may drool over how pretty you are but never takes for granted how kind, funny, creative, and intelligent you are on top of that.
boyfriend!jisung who loves you because, well, you're you.
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aviiarie · 4 months ago
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♡ — GENSHIN GIRLS AS CHAPPELL ROAN SONGS !
cws & notes. no warnings. various genshin girls x fem!reader. 750+ words. they're all sapphic in my heart. if you like this you might enjoy my good luck babe! inspired furina fic :D
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— FURINA · good luck babe!
she can't call it love. the word is on the edge of her lips, lingering on her tongue, but she never speaks it out loud. she just wants to keep things the way they are, keep you close to her without that word hanging over her head. it's nothing serious, so why bother to call it anything at all? she'll ignore the way her heart flutters and her head spins as long as it takes to keep you by her side.
but it isn't enough, is it? because you leave anyway, and she is left with the shadow of your figure chasing the corners of her memory for the rest of her life. in the years to come, she will forget your favourite colour and the way your lips tasted, but she'll always be haunted by the echo of your voice sounding in her head: 'i told you so.'
— CHIORI · red wine supernova
falling in love with you is like falling into a supernova. she was never too interested in pursuing love on her own, but with you, she just seemed to fall into it so easily. it was like you were a star, burning brighter and hotter than the sun, filling her days and nights with light. when she kisses you, she can almost feel fire spark against her lips, like your touch is enough to ignite. it's almost overwhelming, the amount of emotions that brew so quickly, but that doesn't chase away the thrill.
there's something that's so bright about you it's almost blinding. your smile sends her heart beating a mile a minute, your words make her brain fry. no one else has ever made her feel so much that it almost scares her. but if this was love then she would gladly let herself fall for you.
— NAVIA · casual
hearing you call it 'casual' kills her. she smiles and laughs it off, like it's all light-hearted, pretending you're just teasing. it's easy to pretend, to close her eyes and picture the two of you moving into the same apartment, dancing in the kitchen like a couple in a cheesy romcom. it hurts, every time you remind her not to get attached. can't you see she already has, already is? can't you see the adoration in her eyes? can't you see how much she is in love with you? nothing about you is casual, but she bit her tongue until it bled and held back her tears.
she's sick of it. after all the nights of tears she shed, after everything you've been through together, if you won't call it what it was, then she would. she doesn't care what your friends say, anything is better than calling it casual. she's done with letting herself be stifled, letting her love be wasted. she's sick of hating herself. call it casual all you want, she knows the truth and she'll make sure everyone else does too.
— YELAN · super graphic ultra modern girl
she can't deal with another cheap date with a man who doesn't care about her. what she needs someone refreshing, someone fun. she needs a girl who is as dazzling and exciting as she is, someone who can keep her on her feet and send her heart racing. no more wasting perfectly good friday nights on guys who didn't have a single interesting bone in their body, she's after something new.
and that's you. you, who arrived in her life like a firework and continued to crackle and spark ever since. she's transfixed by you, the way you move, the way you speak, the way you laugh. every part of you is mesmerizing, and she can't seem to tear her eyes away.
— KOKOMI · kaleidoscope
it's impossible to describe what you meant to her. there weren't enough words in the dictionary to explain how she felt, not enough colours in the rainbow to paint every shade of love that filtered through her vision when she looked at you. and yet now she was left with a painful monochrome, missing the one person she loved more than anything else in the world.
she's not going to make you stay. she cares about you too much for that. and she'll never fault you is you end up falling in love with someone who isn't her, but part of her does break every time she thinks of it. she doesn't know how love works, it's a mystery to the both of you. but she knows she loves you, and that has to count for something.
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© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai
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maibeenot · 5 months ago
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Last one about TUA season 4, for now.
(I talked about this in the tags of one of my RBs before but I wanted to elaborate)
I don't like how they keep trying to make Five a badass.
I find it especially frustrating as doing this constantly, bogs down any form of character development we could've had from Five.
For whatever reason, the writers seem to be allergic to acknowledging Five's biggest character flaw, his arrogance. Five always has to be right. He always has to be capable of everything and never needs any help. Despite the fact that Diego also has a very similar flaw (and is punished for it consistently), Five's seems to go completely untouched.
(A part of me thinks that the reason why they punish Diego so much more is because he comes off as the hot-headed impulsive one. While that's true, it certainly doesn't negate Five's ability to make mistakes or be incompetent)
Instead, they keep trying to invent a new flaw for Five in that; he is obsessed with the apocalypse. In reality, he's not obsessed with the apocalypse. He's obsessed with keeping his family safe. It just so happens that their most immediate threat (in his eyes) tends to be the apocalypse. (I really don't understand what they're trying to get at with this, especially considering the fact that he already has an extremely apparent flaw)
While this isn't an issue I take with season 4 specifically, it has definitely amplified this issue like crazy. Five's arrogance is vaguely addressed by his siblings in season 1, but it never seems to get him in trouble? Or at least he doesn't seem to have learned from it (except for the time-travelling thing from when he was 13, and when he bled out also in season 1)
Season 1 (and 2) handled it the best out of the four. Five never seems to ask for or accept help unless backed into a corner (telling Viktor about the apocalypse, asking Klaus to help him get the prosthetic eye). Or if he is literally incoherent or unconscious (him passing out from blood loss, him being drunk and telling Diego and Luther about what's happening).
And outside of that, Five's arrogance still had brutal consequences within this season (him not noticing Viktor's declining mental state because he was so sure about the apocalypse (but this was partially because this man tunnel-visions like crazy)).
(there are probably more instances of this with s1 & 2, i just can't think of them off the top of my head so tag them if you'd like)
Season 4 is extra mean with this. From the 'Five getting to work for the CIA at 19' to 'Five randomly figuring out what's causing the end of the world with a bunch of other Five's' while he was off moping.
And when he does make mistakes, it's not because he's actually not capable of everything and anything.
Noooo, Ben really really sneakily stole the marigold and spiked the sake. Five couldn't have possibly noticed. (and none of the other siblings for that matter)
Noooo, it's because Luther is actually super smart in figuring out that Five's boss is a Keeper (no shade to Luther btw, I like him. They just don't treat this moment as Five being a complete dumbass).
Oh no! Five (and Lila) can't figure out a way back from the metro! Never mind, another Five managed it.
Five being a homewrecker? That's him being an asshole, not incompetent so it doesn't count (lighthearted).
Five's arrogance one of his defining flaws, yet it's not really challenged. The fact that he gets away with a lot of bullshit is simply because he can! When he doesn't face failure, he doesn't find growth. He doesn't learn to stop being self-destructive just because he thinks he can do anything. He doesn't learn to reach out.
This stunt in growth is obviously not only present in Five but also everyone else. I just find his to be particularly grating since he's my favorite.
Feel free to add your thoughts to this, not just about Five's fucked up character growth but everyone else's too!
(I'll make long a ass post/video essay going into detail about all of them one of these days)
I'd love to read them :)
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f1byjessie · 1 year ago
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A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.
sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.
( lando norris x photographer!reader )
━━ part one.
INSTAGRAM.
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liked by mclaren, landonorris, and 505,281 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername a smiley lando is the best lando in my books! to celebrate the end of the 2023 season, here's a handful of my favourite photos from throughout the year!
view all 3,171 comments
mclaren What a happy lad! We can't wait to see that smile again in 2024 😁🧡
↳ yourusername you and me both! 🤝🧡
user she's got the dream job omg
↳ user IKR??? imagine just getting to follow lando around and take pictures of him all day, i'd be dead within the first hour
↳ user he'd smile at me and i'd be asking “what are we” on god 😩😩😩
↳ user is that literally all she does??? she just follows him around and takes pictures??
↳ user there’s probably a technical term for what her position is and i just don’t know it, but bc there’s so much going on around the track at any given moment, sometimes the press and other media workers are focused on something or someone else, so she’s hired on by mclaren to specifically focus on mclaren to make sure that there is content for mclaren or mclaren sponsors to use. she’s not just lando’s photographer, she also takes photos of oscar, the pit teams, and the other staff that work in the garage, but she was hired on when lando started so her portfolio is pretty full of him. hope this helps!
user didn't know i could need so much orange in my life but here we are
user LANDO NORRIS SUPREMACY
oscarpiastri i see who the favourite is 🫤
↳ yourusername you literally SAW me picking photos for your post too
↳ oscarpiastri yeah but you posted his first 🫤
user guys this is the face of the 2024 wdc winner take it in now
user i could write a 50 page thesis on the importance of these photos and what they mean to me and how the serotonin they make me release could replace my depression meds
user lad’s like a mini danny ric with how smiley he is
landonorris best photog right here folks
↳ yourusername you're only saying that bc i always get your good side
↳ landonorris i'll have you know that all sides are my good sides 🤨
↳ yourusername whatev helps you sleep at night luv 😊
In 2019, when you took on the job of being McLaren’s lead photographer, you hadn’t expected it would garner you the amount of attention it has, or that it would slingshot your career to levels of success you never could have anticipated, or that you would get a best friend out of it.
When you first met him back in those early days, you’d thought Lando Norris was an arrogant, pretentious, self-righteous prick who thought he was hot shit because he was a Formula One driver. However, he’d quickly proven you wrong when he’d admitted to you that a lot of the confidence was an act━ carefully constructed to hide his insecurities about his performance both on and off the track.
“I mean, we’re drivers, yeah?” He’d said. “But we’re also actors. We’ve got these personas that we have to uphold even out here on the paddock, and I’m always worried I’m not playing the part well enough.”
It hadn’t made a lot of sense to you then, you thought he was pulling off the persona of Total Douche remarkably well, but in Shanghai, things changed.
After the Chinese Grand Prix, things were dour. Lando had DNFed━ the first in his Formula One career━ which contrasted greatly with his previous accomplishment of P6 in Bahrain. Carlos Sainz hadn’t been doing very well, either, and it didn’t paint a very pretty picture for McLaren so early in the season. You’d thought he’d throw a hissy fit, tear Daniil Kvyat apart for his role in the crash, or at the very least throw some shade his way, but he hadn’t done any of that. He’d accepted his fate with grace, joked to the media about how boring the race had been because of what had happened, and then gone on to congratulate Carlos for at least finishing.
What was even more shocking, was that despite his disappointment and the frustration he must’ve been feeling, instead of going back to sulk in his lonesomeness or drown out his feelings with booze and loud music at some club, he’d comforted you later that evening.
The morning of the race, as you’d been getting ready in your hotel room, you’d gotten a text from an unsaved number admitting to you that they’d been taking part in a months-long affair with your boyfriend but had been previously unaware that he was already taken and therefore wanted to let you know to clear their conscience. You’d managed to hold yourself together then━ mostly because you’d already done your makeup and, quite frankly, didn’t have the time to sob it all off and then attempt to salvage it━ but as the day drew to a close and the adrenaline of the race and its excitement wore off, and with nothing else to keep you distracted, you were struggling to keep yourself composed.
Lando had somehow noticed in that weirdly perceptive way of his that something was off, and he’d sat with you, asked what was wrong, and listened when you━ through tears━ explained the situation to him.
“He sounds like a total fucking muppet,” he’d commented after you’d said your piece, and he’d done it with such a deadpanned expression that it had startled a genuine laugh out of you. Because yeah, you’re (now ex) boyfriend had been a muppet.
After that━ and after all the rom-com and ice cream binging you’d both done in his hotel room afterward much to the chagrin of Lando’s nutritionist and the displeasure of his PR officer━ you’d rescinded your initial judgment of him. He was significantly less dickish than you’d originally thought, and it let you finally understand what he’d meant when he’d talked about putting on a persona.
The cocky, know-it-all prick that Lando pretended to be half the time was all just an act to hide his overly self-critical nature fueled by his insecurities.
By the end of the season, he’d gained a little confidence of his own and had subsequently toned down the assholery when he no longer needed to “fake it til he makes it,” and you were calling him your friend.
It’s 2023 now, and he’s since been upgraded to best friend status━ a role he takes very seriously, and constantly reminds you of.
“I’m your best friend━” case and point, “━you have to come to Bali with me. Literally, like, what am I gonna do without you there? Do you expect me to just go by myself? What if I get lost? Or what if somehow the mafia, who have unknowingly had a hit out on me for years, track me down there and I’m kidnapped and ransomed off for billions of dollars? What will you do then?”
“You just want me to take pictures of you,” you answer, rolling your eyes only because you know he can’t see you through the phone.
He gasps in mock offense. “I cannot believe you think I value you so little! I want you to take pictures of me and be here to help me make fun of awkward tourist spray tans so I don’t feel like a total asshole for being the only one who laughs.”
You laugh at that. “Well, unfortunately laughing at bad fake tans doesn’t pay the bills.”
“But taking pictures of me does.”
“Yeah, when McLaren is paying.” You turn back to your laptop, a photo put on pause mid-edit splayed across the screen. It’s of Lando, as most of your photos tend to be despite your attempts at keeping things even between the McLaren boys. It’s the last of the images you need to send over for their 2023 sendoff, and when it’s finished you’ll officially be without work for a painstaking two months. “I’m on break too, technically, until they need promotional shit for the new season.”
He huffs, and you can almost imagine the childish pout on his face. “What are you even doing, then?”
You hesitate, not because you don’t want Lando to know about your winter plans, but because you don’t really know how he’ll react, which means it could be anything between genuine happiness for you and congratulations, or abject horror and feigned screams of anguish. He’s always been dramatic like that, but even more so now that he’s comfortable enough with you and himself to have crawled a decent way out of his shell.
Even still, he’s your best friend and it would make you a pretty shitty person if you didn’t tell him.
“Believe it or not,” you start, wringing your hands together, “but Manchester City actually hit me up with an inquiry. Asked if I’d be interested in working with them on a project documenting their training throughout the winter months. I said I would love to.”
He pauses for a good long moment, and you prepare for the screaming, but all he says is━ “Man City? You traitor. I thought Man United was our forever!”
“Be so fucking real right now, Lando Norris,” you answer, laughing as you do so. You’re relieved, at least he hasn’t gone the feigned anguish route, but you also can’t tell if he’s happy for you or hiding his true feelings behind humor like he’s prone to doing. “You know damn well you only watched them for Christiano Ronaldo and he hasn’t played with United since 2009.”
“Technically he played for them in the 2021-2022 season,” he grumbles.
“Yeah,” you deadpan, “and he was dogshit. We both agreed to pretend it never happened.”
He groans, “I can’t believe this. My day is ruined and my disappointment is immeasurable.”
“Oh, get over yourself. It’s only for the winter. I’ll be back in McLaren Papaya by February when they need me snapping shots of you and Oscar next to the new livery,” you promise.
The reality is that it’ll probably be sooner. McLaren has always been good about getting you back at HQ pretty quickly, either to get some snapshots of the beginning of Lando and Oscar’s pre-season return or to just capture some material of the engineers at work to promote their readiness. You understand why they can’t keep you around all year━ no Lando and no Oscar means no you━ and with the sheer amount of content you capture and edit for them throughout the season, they’ve got enough to last them the handful of weeks you aren’t working.
Unfortunately, you aren’t working with a driver’s salary to keep you sustained over the break and rent certainly hasn’t been getting cheaper. In past years, your bank account has been chirping with crickets when you’ve returned to work after the winter, and that was before your landlord had decided to make your life a living hell.
You have an important job, but it’s by far the most important, and sometimes sacrifices have to be made. Working in sports media taught you that early on.
“Who knows?” Lando’s voice snaps you back. “Maybe Jack Grealish with his perfect hair and perfect calves will steal you away and you’ll be in sky blue forevermore.”
You laugh, “Jack Grealish is a happily taken man, and although he does have perfect hair and perfect calves, I’m more of a Haaland girl anyway.”
He guffaws. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You’re so far gone that you already have a preferred player. Jack Grealish is England’s poster boy! Everyone loves him whether they like City or not!” He heaves a dramatic sigh. “Christ, I can already feel you slipping through my fingers. I give it a week over there at Etihad before you call me up telling me I can find a new best friend because you’ve replaced me with Phil Foden and Julian Alvarez.”
“For someone who supposedly hates Manchester City, you’re certainly well-versed in their roster.”
“Well duh, I need to know my competition,” he says, like it’s obvious.
“Ah, yes,” you snark back sarcastically. “Because you, a Formula One driver, have to be worried about the football players of Manchester City.”
“Apparently I do if you’re calling yourself a Haaland girl now!”
You burst into cackles and he’s following shortly after with chuckles of his own that eventually peter out into a comfortable silence. You are really going to miss him for the few months you aren’t working with him.
The Formula One schedule is so jam-packed across the season that it typically means you’re getting to see him every day for an hour or two at least, if not for the entirety of the time he’s at the track. You follow him and Oscar to their sponsor obligations, their interviews, and everything in between. It’s honestly rare if you’re not getting a moment to goof off and dick around with one another━ and it’s even rarer for you to not actually see one another face to face in passing at the very least.
The off-season is your least favorite time of the year for this very reason, and though it makes you feel a bit full of yourself to think so, you imagine Lando doesn’t enjoy this time of year much either for the same reason.
“I promise I won’t replace you with any of the City boys,” you say after the silence has stretched on a moment longer.
He huffs again, but you can envision the smile tugging at his lips. “I suppose even if you do, I’ll just show up to a match and steal you away again.”
“As if. Have you seen Grealish’s calves?”
INSTAGRAM.
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footballfansofficial BREAKING: Manchester City Forward Garrett Ward caught with mysterious woman revealed to be well-known Formula One photographer Y/N L/N! The two were seen sharing a romantic evening on Friday, the 5th of January, ringing in a passionate start to 2024. Garrett Ward has been with Manchester City since 2021 but was out on loan to a lesser-known Championship League team until 2023. He has just recently begun to play for his team again, but an injury early into the season has seen him benched for a majority of his time back. Y/N L/N is a photographer for Formula One racing team McLaren and has been working with them since 2019. Recently, she has been working with Manchester City to help promote a new docuseries following the men’s team’s winter training. Check the link in our bio for the full article!
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user OMG GARRETT WARD??? NOTORIOUS BACHELOR GARRETT WARD???
user who is she? like genuinely how is she relevant 🤔
↳ user no literally cuz like who even gives two shits about formula 1?
user girl works in f1 why can’t she stay there
↳ user i’m sure there are plenty of drivers who’d smash her idk why she needs to try and get footballers too like bffr 😒😒😒
user aint no way this bitch is kissing my man rn
user literally what does he even see in her??? she’s not even cute AND she’s wearing man united colors 💀💀
user Y/N L/N??? I THOUGHT SHE WAS WITH LANDO NORRIS???
↳ user LITERALLY ME TOO?? like she posts him all the time on insta so i just kinda thought they were an item or smth?? trouble in paradise maybe
user she’s fucking ugly wtf
user i wish these footballers who get with regular women would realize there are so many better girls out there that would ACTUALLY treat them well and would support them in their careers. like i bet this girl doesn’t even know anything about football. she works in f1 and that’s where she should stay bc nobody cares about that shit round here. she probably doesn’t even know the first thing about how football works, but i bet she’ll be at matches pretending like she knows what’s happening. garrett ward is gonna flush his career down the troilet for this chick bc she’s gonna convince him his busy schedule ain’t worth it and then city will be down a great forward for good, and it’ll all be her fault
user i mean she’s kinda pretty tbf
↳ user stfu she really isn’t
↳ user she gen looks like any random bitch off the street
user these comments are not it…. 😬
↳ user maybe you f1 fans just don’t know how to handle constructive criticism
↳ user is the constructive criticism in the room with us rn?? cuz all i’m seeing is bullying and hatred directed towards an innocent woman who’s only “crime” was going on a date
user ok so she can take photos?? 🙄🙄 maybe she should get a real job
↳ user she’s probably only with him so she can mooch off of him like a fucking gold digger
user AINT NO WAYYYYYY
user it’ll last a month max 😌 i’m calling it
user ayo lando come get your girl
━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette
━━ a/n: here we have it! took me a bit longer than the start of american smile did, but lando's story is officially here! (and it's a whopping 2.9k words to start us off). first and foremost, before we get started, garrett ward is 100% an oc and obviously does not play for manchester city, and this is bc i would feel absolutely horrible portraying a real person in the way that garrett will be later on. gather from that what you will haha! regardless, i hope you enjoy this first part and stick around for the rest!
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daenysthedreamersblog · 11 months ago
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ONLY ANGEL II - CHERRY
Don't you call him baby
We're not talking lately
Don't you call him what you used to call me
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part one
summary: coriolanus has at last returned to the capitol only to find you engaged to felix and he simply won't have that...and neither will you it seems
pairing: postacademy!coryo x capitol!reader
warning: MDNI!! swearing, dark themes, violence, infidelity, smut, hand-job, fingering, oral sex, orgasm denial, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spitting, mild breeding kink, v mild daddy kink, probs like a small exhibition kink, coryo probs has a cherry kink (lmao), murder, these two are sick in the head
notes: i saw a tiktok and it was a recipe video and the caption was 'baking bc murder is wrong' and i feel like reader took that personally. this took me way too long to finish and im still not in love with it but hope u find joy in it! (also let me add felix lived in the book but he did die in the movie 🤭)
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"Do you hear that, Coriolanus? It's the sound of Snow falling."
His eyes quiver as water unintentionally wells staring down at his handkerchief, next to everything else that incriminated him.
He had won, he had won, who cares how he had done it. And you had been there, smiling up at him with such pride, not a single thought besides looking at Coriolanus. He had won for you.
And now he was here unable to tear his eyes away from his mistakes.
He hears your heels clipping against the hard floor behind him, but he can't look at you, he can't face you, not yet. You can't see him like this. He needs to find a way out of this first. He wants to plead with you to listen, beg you to stay by his side. You know he wants to too, he can feel it in the air, your shame towards him. You huff out a laugh, the sound ringing out like distant wedding bells in his head, then you're walking away from him without a single word your heels hitting the floor harshly with every step you take until he's left in silence.
Alone.
-
He watches the districts blur past him sitting wearily on the train dragging him away from his home, dragging him away from you. He runs a hand through his buzzed hair, the only solace in the whole ordeal, at least he didn't have his curls to be cursed by the memory of your hands in them. He knows he'll never see you again, even if he returns you'll want nothing to do with him. He glances at Sejanus across from him, the small smile on the Plinth boy's face, and his nails dig into his palm.
"President Coriolanus Snow." You had whispered up at him. Now he was just a useless ordinary peacekeeper sent to die out in the districts while you laid in Felix Ravinstill's bed.
He glares out the window. No he won't have that, not one bit. He'll find a way home to you, find a way to make you proud of him again no matter if he has to obliterate all of District 12 to do it. He'd burn it all down, burn the world down too while he's at it...for you.
One year later
He stares at you the whole entire party, watches you nurse your drink so delicately the color of it staining your lips marroon. You're wearing a similar shade satin dress, the cowl neckline draped across your breast, every curve hugged exquisitely, and your ass... Coriolanus was hard the minute his eyes found you, and it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
You never look his way once.
This party was for him, because of him. Because attending University, working under Gaul had thrown The Hunger Games to new heights, him to new heights. Everyone was celebrating another successful game, celebrating his hard work.
You wouldn't look at him.
His work wasn't done of course, he still needed to ascend further to rightfully take the Presidency. He could do it, especially with this newly found wealth and respect. He was back where he belonged; on top.
And you wouldn't look at him.
He knew it had everything to do with that giant rock on your left hand, your fiancé's nasty arm around your waist. He sneered into his own drink, Mrs. Ravinstill. It sounded horrid.
You never sought him out once he had returned to the Capitol after his...punishment. Never came to find him once your fiancé came home from University informing you Coriolanus Snow had at last returned. He knew he'd never see you there; you never intended on going, content on marrying the President. He figured as much, knew it was too far fetched to imagine opening his front door to find you there begging him to take you back. You would never beg.
He needed to speak to you, demand why you chose Felix over him, why you wouldn't come see him in his newly remodeled pent house. He needed to fuck you, be inside you, taste your sweet spit again. Nothing else had gotten him through those horrible months in 12, but the thought of getting back home to you.
And you wouldn't fucking look at him.
He knew you were deliberately ignoring him, another game you liked to play the only thing missing was that hard candy dripping from your lips. A cat playing with her food, but he was different now, a snake rather than a mouse and he had not lied and schemed and clawed his way back for you to pick Felix Ravinstill over him. He watched you peel off heading towards the bathroom, and he took his chance stalking after you. You were fixing your lipgloss when he barged in. You didn't even flinch, only glanced at him through the mirror.
Your smirked as you fixed the corner of your mouth. "Hi Coryo," His cock twitched at the old nickname.
"Marry me." He cut to the chase and you raised an eyebrow at him. He had the money now, the respect, soon the presidency, everything you had wanted him to get, he had gotten. Sure it had taken an unconventional route, but the destination would be all the same. He dug into his pocket, pulled out the red velvet box, and opened it revealing a huge diamond ring, bigger than Felix's. It was the first thing he bought when the Plinth's wealth soon became his. You eyed it and then turned back to fixing your makeup.
"No." You scoffed.
He snapped the box close and tucked it away. "Marry me." You shake your head at him smirking to yourself as you put your lip gloss away. He walks up behind you keeping some distance between the two of you, he needs to touch you but he pauses his fingers itching forward to grab onto your skin. "You never came to see me." He remembers waiting at the train station, to see you one last time. He never got to explain what had happened, how he did it all for you. He even knew if it came down to it he would have disgraced himself by begging you to wait for him, he knew if he did you would only stray from him more. But you never showed up, and soon he was being carted off to District 12.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Your hand tapped against the sink ceramic clinking with the sound of your ring, he should have known better than to expect an answer, "He proposed after graduation, at my party, you were supposed to attend." You met his gaze in the mirror as he towered behind you, the explanation plainly on your face; you had been ashamed of him. "I thought you were better than that." You didn't care that he cheated, you only cared that he got caught.
He takes a step forward as you slowly turn to face him your foot plants between the two of his, knee caressing his thigh fraying his nerves under warm skin. "I am." He can't help it, his knuckle strokes your cheek. "Thought you were my angel...forgive me."
You push up lightly breathing up at him; it was your version of forgiveness. "Do you like my lipgloss?" You ask the sweet fruity scent of it swirling up towards him, he knows what it would taste like.
"Cherry."
"I wore it for you." You add as you toy with his shirt moving even closer until he feels your breath on his mouth.
His bottom lip brushes against yours, breast pressing into his chest, his clothes feel too tight, "Are you gunna let me taste it?" You're too close, his body too hot, his hard cock digging into your flesh as you slip a hand between bodies to run a palm along it; absolution for his sins.
"Should I?" You ask into his open mouth and he finds his hand on your collarbone. He doesn't know why you do this to him, place yourself on the small string just out of reach for him, and it takes everything in him to not choke the air out of you for doing it, for teasing him constantly after going so long with your silence. He should leave you to rot, but he can't. He simply...can't. Your cherry venom had snuck into him, ran through his blood, thickened his arteries, and your fangs were holding on too tight.
"Everything I did was for you."
You raise an eyebrow, "You still got found out." You jutted your bottom lip out your whisper hot against his teeth, he could smell the cherry wine on your breath "Left me all alone."
He grits his teeth, wants to explain he had no control over any of it, but you didn't care. "I'm back now." His hands grab onto your waist enjoying the feel of your body under his palms once more his lips grazing against yours, "I killed anyone who was ever going to keep me from you."
"Not everyone."
Felix.
"I'll kill him too."
You snarled against his mouth, "Good."
He smashed your mouths together, and you opened right up for him. You tasted of cherry, as sweet as before as he sucked the wine from your lips, licking it off your tongue. He thought of nothing but you his whole time out in that pest filled district, he fell asleep dreaming of your mouth, your breasts, your sweet cunt waiting drenched for him back home. You bit down on his bottom lip and tugged backwards before glancing up at him.
Your hands were so far down his pants, running down the length of him, gathering precum and smearing it across to slide a soft hand around the shaft. He groans into your mouth as you grip harder, move faster. "Did you miss me Coryo?" You coo against his face. "Missed my hand, my pussy, wrapped around you so tight." You squeeze, nails grazing as you swirled around his cock. "Did you think of me often? Think of me while you had to cum down a dirty drain?"
He squeezes his eyes tight, "Yes." He pants, and he hates that it was always true. He doesn't like this, doesn't like how you're pulling this power play over him, but your fucking hand was pumping him for all his worth, and he can't find himself to care.
"I'm still your little slut Coryo." Your fingers graze his balls, tongue licking along his teeth. "Are you still mine?"
"Yes." He grunts out not able to stop the cum shooting hard into your hand all on the inside of his pants.
You grin up at him, "Someones quick off the mark."
He wants to slap you, slap that smile off your lips but instead he watches you pull your hand out to lick the cum off of it. He shoves you backwards, shoving your legs apart running a hand up your thigh meeting your bare wet pussy. His eyes flickered around your face, you knew tonight would have been his last straw, you knew he couldn't stay away any longer. He runs a knuckle through your wet folds power surging through him as he pushes two fingers inside of you.
He bites back the groan as his hand sinks into you relishing in the noise as he curls it up inside of you, savoring the moan clawing up your throat. You attach your lips to his as he begins to thrust in and out you pressing up against that soft spot that has you mewling down his throat. He presses a palm to your clit, "Coryo." You whimper out and he's moving his hand faster, fucking you with it vigorously feeling your hips tilt to meet his thrust.
Your walls spasm around his hand. He pulls off your mouth sucking down your neck, teeth digging into skin. "That's it, cum for me angel." His thumb shifts rubbing into your clit pleasure tightening your legs against his own as they try to part further, pushing his fingers deeper. He shoves down the front of your dress exposing your breast for him to knead into his palm, dipping down wrapping his mouth along your nipple rolling it around his tongue, nipping at it gently as your hands run through his hair. "Did you miss me too?"
"No."
He looks at you, takes in your smug expression and all he wants to do is slam your head back so hard the mirror cracks. "You're a fucking liar." He growls out at you, hand covering your face as he thrust hard and deep. "You touched yourself every night thinking of me." He pounds his hand into you harder your back hitting against the mirror, you're getting wetter by it, turned on by his violence the wanton moans spilling past your lips, "Thought about me fucking you since you learned I came back for you."
You let out a breathy laugh, "Fine...I missed you a little." You were never one to show your hand, so he takes what you give him.
He grabs your face between his fingers squeezing, "Don't ever fucking lie to me again."
"I promise." You moaned.
He's holding under you with one hand slamming into you the sick sound of it echoing around the bathroom, "Scream my name when you cum." He leans down close to your ear. "I want you fiancé to hear what a fucking whore you are for me."
And gods you do. You scream his glorious name out into the open air clamping down around him, cumming against his hand letting him draw slow circles around your clit until you whine for him to stop. He pulls his hand out of you and quickly sucks his fingers, swirling around his digits to drink up your nectar sweet pleasure licking up your sweat along your neck.
"Did he touch you?" He nips at your chin.
You chuckled, "I told you before I'm waiting for marriage."
"Such an angel." He kisses your open mouth.
"Your angel."
Coriolanus has his arms wrapped around your body supporting you against the sink. "You didn't come see me." He listens to your heart hammering in your chest as you catch your breath.
You run your hand through his shorter hair. "I miss your curls Coryo."
"Answer me." He finally demands staring down at you.
You sighed, "Felix wouldn't let me." You pouted trying to twist your fingers around his shorter hair but it was harder so you gave up, "So I kept my distance, watching you climb like the man I knew you always were, waiting for you." Your hands snaked around his neck smiling up at him eyes darkening, "Waiting for you to finally come take whats yours."
He searched your eyes, "Want me to steal you away in the night from that idiot of a fiancee?"
"It isn't stealing if it always belonged to you."
His eyes flicker around your face, the reassuring ownership written there. He kisses your lips one more time before stepping back watching as you straighten out your dress once again having to fix your makeup and hair. "Marry me." He asks standing behind you in the mirror.
"No." You turn your body towards him. "I can't." You take a step forward hands resting on his stomach, "What are we going to do about that?"
He wraps his hand around yours, "Whatever it takes."
You don't even hide it as you exit together, not even as you head back into the party side by side. You know as well as him that you looked better next to Coriolanus, you belonged next to him. Your arm is tucked into Coriolanus's as the pair of you approach your soon-to-be husband who's eyes flare in alarm at the sight."Where'd you go?" He asks already taking in the mark on your neck, the flushed cheeks. He wants to grab you, lock you away, but he wouldn't dare move as you had attached yourself with Coriolanus.
Coriolanus looks down your body wondering if Felix can smell his cum sticky against your fingers as you speak. "I ran into Coriolanus." You motion to him as his eyes find Felix's angry ones.
"Coriolanus." He grits out. He knew, the poor bastard knew and he wouldn't say a thing, not in public anyways.
He smirks, "Felix."
You place your ringed hand on his chest, "Coriolanus was just telling me how wonderful it has been working with Dr. Gaul." You lied fingers splaying over his muscled chest white clumps clinging to your skin.
And only because Coriolanus enjoys pissing off Felix Ravinstill he places his hand over yours stroking a finger down your wrist. "You should stop by some day, if your free." He knows you always are, he knows Felix isn't. "I haven't seen you outside classes Felix, it will be nice for all of us to catch up."
Felix opened his mouth the decline sitting there, the bottled up cuckholding rage oozing off of him, but you smiled, dripping with fake sweetness. "Oh that would be lovely, nice distraction from wedding planning." He knew you weren't doing any of that. "How sweet of you Coriolanus." You looked up at you fiancée with those big eyes anyone would fall for.
Felix swallowed, biting out the submission. "How sweet indeed."
What a weak, spineless fool.
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There's a knock on his door.
He watches it for a moment before standing up to unlock it.
"Hi Coryo," You lean against his doorframe smiling up at him. He always imagined you coming here, showing up, begging him, but that wasn't your style. "Gunna let me in?" He moves to the side to allow you to walk inside his home. "This is truly gorgeous." You praised him walking through his newly refurbished home. You had never seen if before, but he was glad for it, the after was more...fitting to the lifestyle Coriolanus wanted to give you.
He wanted to ask what you were doing here, but he knew what you wanted, could smell your arousal like a feral animal. "Does Felix know you're here?" He asked locking the door behind him.
You smirk still taking in the room before turning to look at him. "I hope he does."
Would you tell him? Why you kept lying to the poor man, why you didn't just leave him? Were you waiting for Coriolanus to make the first move in this game you had set up? He moves until he's standing in front of you, glancing down at you, "I got you something."
You gazed up at him under batting eyelashes, "How kind of you."
Coriolanus went into his old room picking up the present and walking back out to you. He holds out the pretty box for you watching as your fingers traced the box along it. "Figured since you can't get anymore from your Daddy, it would only seem fitting for me to fund my favorite habit of yours."
You pull the bow loose letting it fall around your feet before pushing the lid up to reveal the glass jar inside full of cherry suckers. "Oh Coryo," The smile flickered onto your lips as you stuck your hand inside to pull one loose. He watched you unwrap it, watched you push it into your mouth. "Mhm," You moaned body heat radiating off you as you stepped closer your hand palming his cock through his pants. "Taste almost as good as you."
"Dirty girl." He gritted out as you shoved your hand below his waistband soft fingers wrapping around him. He can't look away from your face as your tongue rolls along the red ball, as you stroke his hard length. "Get on your knees."
You pop off the sucker. "Is this my second gift?"
"Do you deserve a second gift?" He ask hand stroking down your cheek.
"I do Coryo, I've been such a good girl while you were gone." You breath against his lips.
He tugs the sucker loose and shoves it into his own mouth missing the taste of it mixed with your sweet saliva. He sets the box back down as you climb down onto the floor in front of him pulling him out of his pants. You lick the tip, swirling your tongue around him before pushing him in further until he hits the back of your throat, and even then you try to keep forcing him deeper.
His hand is in your hair as he lets your hand pump the rest of him that wont fit inside your hot mouth, tongue flat against the base as he ruts against you. You gaze up at him, tears welling involuntarily as he hits the back of your throat over and over again, and you smile every-time. "Missed sucking my cock that much angel?" You nod, a moan vibrating down his dick. His other hand comes around your face feeling the spilling over spit run down your chin as you sloppily bob your mouth up and down him. He remembers having to finish into a his hand all that time away imagining this, you greedily sucking his cock. He tries to force your head to move slower, to enjoy the feel of your warm mouth wrapped around him, but he struggles as your grip tightened around him, your other hand coming up to cup his balls.
He hisses, fucking your mouth faster, letting you take what he was giving you. He wants himself stuck between your teeth as much as the sweet sugar you consumed. You want it too as you suck in your cheeks sucking him harder. "You want my cum baby girl?"
You come off him for a second mouth wide, tongue outstretched to graze the underside of him, "Always Coryo." It goes straight to his head...and his cock.
His thighs tighten and he is shoving himself back into your mouth, holding you tight against him to spill down your throat as cherry filled saliva slips down his own. "Swallow all of it." He doesn't need to tell you twice as you keep sucking and licking up his twitching cock keeping every last drop inside your mouth to slip down your throat. And even when you come off him you lick the tip clean smirking up at him.
"Even better than I remember." You tell him as he helps you to your feet. His hands come around your face as he kisses you savoring the cum and cherry sugar in your mouth. He licks it off the roof of your mouth, sucks the juice off your tongue before he pulls away letting you press a soft lasting kiss to his lips.
"What are you waiting for?" He whispers fingers tracing your puffy lips. He wants to spill his guts, describe how you roiled inside of them. You only smile up at him like you knew he would carve it all out for you, he would, and it makes him want to strangle you. "Leave him."
You reach up pulling your sucker free from his lips and pushing it back through your own. "I wish it was that easy." Your sigh was answer enough, there was no way to move forward with Felix's ring around your finger.
His hand lands at the base of your neck anger filling him. "I should leave you." He hisses out tired of watching you be with another man when you belonged with him, belonged to him.
"You wanna leave me?" His fingers dig into your jaw as a smug smile plastered onto your lips he wants to slap it off your face, he wants to fuck you unforgivably to regain his power you thought you had stolen when he was sent away, "I fucking dare you."
You know he never could, and he hates you for it, "You want me to murder all of Panem to prove myself to you?"
"Would you?"
Candy scented breaths ease out of you, no fear on your soft features, and he knows his answer immediately. Yes. He would, he'd do a lot worst to keep you looking at him.
"No... Not all." Just one more, is what you don't say. He drops his hand watching as you go to the door. You put one hand on the knob as you threw a wicked grin over your shoulder cherry sucker pushed into your cheek, "Bye Coryo."
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It's no surprise after that night you began showing up to 'visit' Felix during his studies at The University. He sees you walking up the set of small stairs, a classy black tweed minidress hugging your body, the white little ribbon bouncing in your hair, candy between your teeth as you walked towards the hall littered with men.
He wished he could grab you, kiss you, fuck you in front of everyone so they know who you belonged to, who got to go home to you every night, who got to hear your pretty little moans. He wanted them to be envious of him, not that idiot Felix. It wasn't fair, and frankly it wasn't right.
You state you're there for Felix, but you never go in the direction his classes are, and you certainly never come when he's free of them. Your eyes fixate on Coriolanus, "Hi Coryo." Your voice slides down his spine like sugared ice as you stop in front of him.
"Can't stay away hmm?" He smirks down at you.
"From you?" You raise an eyebrow toying with the stick of your sucker the pout in your bottom lip. "Never. It was so hard this last year..."
His hand comes around toying with the ribbon in your hair. He tugs it lightly watching your head lean back at the movement. "Always such a slut." Because only you would be so brash about your desire for him, you truly only come here so he can fuck you in the bathroom. The ribbon slides out and into his palm, the collection of them all still stuffed away in his old peacekeeper box. He remembers gripping them between his knuckles when he had to fuck his fist in that disgusting barrack. Your tongue darts out for him, swirling around the tip of your candy, licking up the length of it. "Want my cock in your cunt that badly huh?"
"Come over for dinner," You purr up at him as a hand strokes down his shirt. "Felix works late tonight with his uncle."
He shakes his head at you as you roll the ball across your bottom lip, "Filthy fucking girl, want me to come fuck you while your fiancée is away."
You drag your tongue up the center, "You can fuck me while he's home too."
"You would let me." He watches you nod, "Let me fuck you right here against this wall too?" You gaze up at him not needing to answer, he knows you'd let him. He leans down to whisper in your ear, "Such a fucking whore, well then go on, pull your dress up. I know you're not wearing anything under it." He watches as your eyes darken, fingers actually going to the hem of your dress, and he fights the urge to shove his hand so far between your legs.
Felix calls your name and he finds his hand around your wrist holding you to his side, "Yes darling?"
You watch your fiancée walk towards the two of you worry laced on his face while Coriolanus mouth presses to the shell of your ear, "Stop calling him darling."
He pulls the sucker from your mouth to shove into his own as you smirk sidelong at him, Felix stopping in front of you. "You shouldn't have come." Felix says hand going to your waist, trying to pull you away, peering around the filled hallway, but you stay planted next to Coriolanus. Coriolanus fights the urge to burn his hands where they touch you.
Your eyes glance up to Coriolanus for a fleeting second. "I wanted to see you." He knows your words aren't meant for your fiancée
"It's a busy time. I have to get going." He eyes you, eyes Coriolanus with your sucker in his mouth. "I'll see you at home later."
Home. Coriolanus hates that, that wasn't your home, simply a prison preventing you from living with him. "Okay." You say, but make no effort to move. In fact you lean into Coriolanus's hand as it lands on the small of your back.
"Go home." Felix tries to sound demanding summoning all his strength to keep his eyes on you instead of Coriolanus.
Your smile is sinful, finding delight in whatever dominance Felix had forced himself into. "We were just catching up, you understand don't you." You don't even mention the invitation you had offered, the door you would leave open for him to come inside.
Felix's hand grips your arm yanking you towards him. "We talked about this." Felix tried to say it quietly as if Coriolanus wouldn't hear him, grinding his foot into the floor like a stubborn child. There was no hiding your wandering eye, no hiding how Coriolanus was always on the receiving end of it. Felix was now figuring out how to grow some balls to say something about it, but you didn't care. You never would.
You step forward placing the hand he held on his chest and he knows you wish you could plunge you painted claws through his sternum to rip out his heart. You pat his chest instead looking over your shoulder at Coriolanus, "Bye Coryo." You leave them standing there hips swaying as you walk away.
"Stealing the Plinth fortune wasn't enough for you?" Felix grits out eyes on your ribbon in Coriolanus's hand, your candy between his teeth.
Coriolanus's fingers toy with it watching you leave as he repeated what you told him, "It isn't stealing if it always belonged to you."
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He arrived early. He knows the door is unlocked but he is still a gentleman so he knocks on the door to your and Felix's future forever home. He knew you had moved in together after the engagement, had gathered as much when he went to your old home and found it empty. You open the door wide and the air knocks out of his chest. He'll never get over you, he knew that then carted away on that train to 12, he knows that now with the blood staining his hands.
He knows you'd lick it off.
"Hi Coryo." You smile allowing him into your home closing the door behind the two of you. You lock it; he cherished the sound.
He held out the bouquet of white roses he brought, "For you."
You lean forward inhaling as you gaze up at him under dark eyelashes. He often heard Felix bragging about working with his uncle, how beneficial it was, how the position simply suits him. Well Felix could brag all he wanted, it would never do him any good.
Coriolanus looks around taking in your decorated home, the pictures of you and Felix lining the walls. They were hideous, "Where did you mother ever go off to?"
"She was so distraught after Daddy died." You frown, the perfect sadness sketched on your face, as you took the flowers setting them in a pretty vase at the center of the table. "She was overcome with grief."
Your father had died suddenly....unexpectedly.
What a tragic accident.
He remembers your fake tears, he especially remembered comforting you at the small lunch-in your mother had after the funeral, comforting you by fucking you in your parent's bed while guest downstairs mourned your father.
He was hard just thinking about it, thinking about licking those sweet crocodile tears away as he plunged himself into your hot cunt. He wanted to do it again, take you in you martial bed simply to prove a point, to prove the same point he had back then. That you belonged to him.
You sighed turning to look at him leaning back against your large dining table. "I reached out to Dr. Gaul and she was more than happy to help me." He took slow steps towards you your eyes following him until he towered over you. "She found a nice facility to...take care of her."
His hand came up snaking around your neck, thumb stroking your jaw. "You're a piece of work you know that?"
"You play your games," The well hidden wickedness flashes behind your eyes, the woven in manipulation surrounding all you touched. "I play mine."
You let his other hand grab onto your waist. "There are worse games to play."
He leans down to kiss you, your mouth so soft and warm against his, he feels you open, tongue sliding along his. He pulls your body against his, breast pushed onto his chest as his hands hold you tight. He's sick of letting you go. "Do you still want a man angel?"
"I want you," You breath into his open mouth and the hand on your hip slips between your legs.
He groans out at the feel of you, grinding his cock against your body fingers running up your drenched pussy. He wants it all, wants that sweet addiction only you can give him, and it still would never be enough to satiate him. He laid you back, spreading you open like his own personal feast and digs into your cunt.
Your moan reverberates through him as his tongue licks up your center passing over your clit in teasing strokes, nails digging into his scalp. He wants Felix to walk in, to see how Coriolanus could make his put together fiancée come so undone in his own home. And how he'll never get the chance to even try. But he wants to be inside you, so he hopes your stupid soon-to-be husband would stay away a little while longer. You sigh his name, the sound like a psalm, and he thinks he'd still fuck you even if Felix walked in right now.
Coriolanus glides his tongue along your clit two fingers pushing into you as your back arches for him. Then he moves faster, curling his fingers against that soft spot. He knows your close already, knew your body like the back of his hand, he can tell by the tightness in your legs, the pants of air you force out, so he keeps fucking you with his hand, keeps his tongue pressed against your throbbing clit.
He pulls away before you cum.
"Coryo." You whine eyes wild and offended.
Coriolanus simply smirks, "That's for not coming to see me."
His fingers begin moving again, his mouth wrapping around your clit and you relax taking it in, feeling the pleasure he was giving you. Your fingers curl, legs trying to stay spread but they're shaking too much as he brings you closer and closer again. You're right there, he can feel your walls trying to clamp down around him, feel you pushing down against his face to keep him there.
He pulls away again.
"Coriolanus!" You cry out.
He laughs watching you glare down at him. "And that's for being a fucking brat all the time."
You can't retort, can't argue as he spits down on your already soaked cunt, dipping down into you again your eyes squeezing shut the deep groan coming from your throat. He would make you suffer more, but the taste of you always sends him into a frenzy and he can't help but become drunk off your pleasure. His tongue moves side to side in quick motions as his fingers thrust in and out, curled up along your g-spot. It's too much already, too intense from failed orgasms. Every breath is a mewling whimper as you thrust your hips back downward into his face to chase your climax.
He'll play nice with you, as long as you remember who was in power.
"Who's your Daddy now angel?" He smirks against you before wrapping his mouth around your clit.
You scream his name as you come hard against his face, rivers of pleasure dripping down his chin, onto the table and floor. He keeps moving his tongue slowly against you drinking in everything not caring that it's overstimulating as you keep spasming around him, not caring as teeth graze against your clit. His tongue dips inside of you gently thrusting in and out and you're clawing at him for more, and he would, he would fuck you with his tongue, make you cum over and over again just like this, but you tug on his hair.
"Coryo," He loves the break in your voice as you whine for pleasure, how sweet it sounds coming from your devilish tongue. "Fuck me."
Anything for you.
He pulls away and stands up flipping you over, unbuckling his pants. He strokes a hand down your pretty hair, running over the angel cake softness of your bare skin, his hand lands on your hip. He's inside you before you can breath walls enveloping his cock, its so wet he slides in so fucking deep. His hand twist in your hair yanking it back to arch your back as he quickly starts fucking you viciously. You claw at the table moaning into the open air. "You like that hmm?" He drives himself in hard wrapping his hand around your body, slithering it up to your neck. "Like when I fuck you like the whore you are?" You did and you were, just for him. Only ever for him. He squeezes your throat a little enjoy the little gasp you give him before he limits your air supply. He's high off it, high off you, of the power you allow him to take.
You reach a hand back holding onto him as he fucks you brutally, abusing your cervix with every hard hit of his cock, your a mess because of it. He knows you're close again as he lets go listening to you gulp down more air throwing you over your peak and he adores the feeling of you clamping down around him as you do, crying out for him over and over again. He doesn't take long to finally spill himself into you with a hard tug on your hair to push himself deeper, to make sure every drop stays inside. "I hope I get you pregnant." He leans down to kiss the side of your neck.
You lean into his touch as his cock twitches one last time. Neither of you move as he drags his lips over your shoulder gently sinking his teeth in to taste your sweat. He pulls out and tucks himself away allowing you the space to turn around and face him. You just smile and shake your head playfully at him as if you didn't want the same thing.
"Here," Coriolanus digs into his pocket pulling out a small vial. You eye the cloudy liquid knowing what it was; poison. "Just a few drops into his food or water." Your smile drips in sweetness as you take it. "Not tonight, it's too suspicious." He runs a finger through your hair. "Whenever you want to come home to me."
You kiss him as you pocket the vial.
The door opens a few seconds later. "Coriolanus." Felix pauses eyes flitting between the two of you taking in the damning sight.
"Oh Felix look at the beautiful flowers Coryo has brought us." You motion to the fresh vase you had set up at the center of the table.
"What are you doing here?" Felix swallows ignoring you.
You waved him away, "Oh I figured you would be happy to be having dinner with an old friend."
"How long have you been here?" Alone. But he won't ask that.
"A while." He smirks back.
Felix, wising up, finally looks down your body at the fresh trail of cum sliding down your thigh. His eyes hold fear to a situation he has no idea how to control. "I made pie." You disappear into the kitchen leaving the two of them alone to stare at one another. Coriolanus doesn't say anything, simply walks around the table to sit at the head of it, where he belonged. Felix sits across from him when you return as you began to set the food put, finally placing a sweet scented desert near the center. "Cherry...your favorite." Coriolanus finds his palm splayed against your waist, you glance at him as you straightened it, "Darling."
You move taking the seat to the right of Coriolanus foot rubbing up against his. "My favorite is apple." Felix corrects you, hand wrapped around a butter knife.
"Oops." Your smile is saccharine as you blink innocently.
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After a tense dinner in which you deferred every veiled accusation shot your way, he knew Felix was far too aware to let it keep happening under his nose. It was only fair he allow the two of you to come see where Dr. Gaul and him worked, to prove his companionship to an old friend, to make up for his impropriety with said friend's future wife.
He never said the two of you had to come at the same time.
He knows the minute you walk through the lab doors, your hair half lightly pulled back with a pretty ribbon, wearing one of your tight skirts and white mock turtle neck, cherry candy in your mouth he would have no more of this arrangement.
No more, no more fiancée, no more hiding his claim on you. No more. He doesn't care if he has to kill all of Panem to keep you, he'll do it gladly. He'd force your hand to use the poison tonight.
You kiss his cheek the scent of you, the sugary taste, pulsed around him, heightening his senses, hardening his cock. You tuck your hand in his arm letting him walk with you. You took everything in like this was a sick version of an art gallery. He showed you around knowing you were only vaguely interested in the various creations held inside their tanks, talked about future plans for future games. He followed next to you, watching you peer into the cages of those muttations, tapping on the glass to watch them squirm. You belonged next to him, you knew that now more than ever. You looked so much better with him than you ever did with that pathetic excuse of a fiancée.
You pointed to the cages filled with black birds.
"Jabberjays." He followed you as you walked towards them. "They can memorize and repeat conversations."
You poked your finger through the bar, awe in your eyes. "This was how you did it." He stared at you as you glanced back at him realizing you knew he had incriminated Sejanus, how he had sent the poor boy to the hanging tree to get back here. In the place he once felt guilt sat validation, the lust in your eyes proving what he had done was right.
"How did you..." He should have suspected you knew, you were too close to the top to not know, too woven into the group of elites, but it still surprised him.
You only smiled as you watched one flare its wings out in alarm as your finger inched closer to it. "I went to Dr. Gaul a month after you left." Your lip pulled back in disgust, "Disgraced myself by begging her to let you return."
Heat ran through him, pounded in his blood as you glanced over at him, "Show me." He needed to see it, hear you say the words you said then.
You pulled your hand away from the birds turning to face him. You took his hands, then slowly you lowered yourself to the floor onto your knees raising your palms in supplication. "Please," You bowed your head. "Please let him come home to me." You never begged for anything, but you had begged for him. He keeps his eyes on you as you slowly looked up at him, his hand comes under your chin. It must have worked. He was set to be sent to District 2, but things had changed and he had come back. You climbed to your feet hands still holding his, "She said she always planned on letting you return, but you need to learn a lesson first." He knew you agreed with her, "And then one day she called me in, played the recording for me, said you were on your way back." Your body pressed into his, his hard cock aching at the friction, your whisper a caress onto his lips. "I came so hard that night imagining it, came so hard knowing my Coryo was clawing his way back to me."
He wants to ask why you didn't come running into his arms when he stepped off the platform, but it made sense why you didn't. You had wanted to see what he would do next, if he would submit to his woes, grovel in his defeat, or would he climb, would he take what was so rightfully his.
"And what would you have done if she hadn't let me return?" He asked needing to know, needing to know you burned for him the same.
Your eyes honed in on his face, "Anything."
"My sweet villain." He strokes a thumb down your cheek. "My darling angel."
"All for you."
He kisses you softly, delicately letting his mouth slide across yours tasting the sweetness you offered like a drug. Your tongue slips through, spit exchanged in unison, swallowing each other, fingers curling around his neck as you pulled him to you.
"Stop." Felix voice cuts across the room. "Enough." You take too long to peel your mouth away from Coriolanus, too long to slyly look at your fiancé. "You're leaving with me. Now."
"She doesn't want to go anywhere with you." Coriolanus sneered.
"Look," Felix sighed, "I have let this go on for far longer than it should have, I knew you didn't want to marry me and you wanted to rebel against that, I figured you'd grow out of this phase once we left the Academy." Your eye twitched, "Enough now, you're going to leave with me, and you'll end this affair before you embarrass us both."
You don't move.
Felix takes a single step forward out of frustration. "Do you even know what I've been protecting you against? He's a murderer, did you know that? He killed a tribute in the games, killed Sejanus too." Well at least he didn't know about Highbottom, or your father. "He'll kill you too, if it came down to it, if you got in his way."
"Right now Felix," Coriolanus glares. "You're the only one in my way."
Something like fear flares for a second as he takes another step forward. "He's using you! I read all his letters he tried to write you asking you to make someone bring him back here." He wants to feel upset you never received his soft hearted words, but maybe it was for the best you never saw that side of him. He glances at your face, a mask of cool indifference, but your eyes quivered for a single moment in wake of the lost news you would never have, and resentment fills your features. You finally began moving forward towards Felix, his demeanor began to relax as you listened but your steps fell silently violent. "I figured if he was sent to 12 he would be far enough away from you, we could finally be happy."
You stilled, "You."
"I had to!" He exclaimed, "He would have never stopped coming after you! I had to tell Highbottom he cheated, had to get him away from you." Everything. It was all Felix's fault, all of it was his fault. Coriolanus's eyes flared wide with unadulterated rage, he wanted to murder Felix with his bare hands, he wanted to tie him down and force him to watch as Coriolanus took you over and over again while he could do nothing but finish in his own pants because that was the type of scum Felix was. but he clenched his jaw, no he didn't want Felix to see you, he didn't want Felix to hear only what Coriolanus could hear, that was a better punishment, to never know what it was like to truly have you, and later tonight he would die with you standing over him.
"You disgust me."
"I was trying to protect you." Felix urged again as his hands came around you. "H-He's a monster."
"I made sure of it." Your smile was laced with venom as your hands wrapped around his forearms. "You always lacked a spine Felix Ravinstill, I knew that the minute your sweaty adolescent hand grabbed mine you were nothing but a weak little boy who had everything handed to him." You sighed, disappointed. "And I wanted a man."
His eyes flickered around your face, behind him water lapped from the wake the eels made in the small circular pool. "He's a liar and a cheat. He will never amount to anything more than that."
"Neither will you." You glanced over at Coriolanus. "Yes." You finally said a weight seeming to move off his chest, "I will marry you."
Felix scoffed hiding the shake of his breath, "You can't be serious. We're already engaged you would be a fool to call this off now. You're a woman with no education, no family, you'll be ruined."
"I am not a woman, I am a god." You took one step back fingers still grazing his forearms and from afar it would have looked affectionate, "I was born to marry the President of Panem, and you know what they say..." You stood in front of him and something in Felix's eyes shifted with realization.
"Snow lands on top."
You pushed watching as his body fell backwards towards the open pool. He was too far away to fall fully in so his back hit cement roughly, something cracking in his spine as one wrapped around his shoulder yanking him the rest of the way in his screams echoing around the room. You stood there watching as they swallowed his body deeper and deeper until he was nothing, then you tugged that ugly ring off your finger tossing it in after him.
He moved around the pool, avoiding the puddles of water made when his body had hit the water, until he's standing in front of you. He admires you for one second, one second to take in the calm look on your face in the wake of murder, the glow that seemed to settle around you as eels swam around your dead fiancée. Then he's moving, connecting your mouth, tongues melding with each other as he sealed his lips around yours finding heaven in your honeyed spit. He was crushing your against him as you twisted your hands into his shirt, pulling it out of his pants as he pushed the hem of your skirt up, needy, insatiable.
"You're a monster." He tells you the very thing he knew himself to be, kissing down your neck.
"And you love me for it." He does, but he'd never let you know that, never give you that kind of power over him.
The two of you are on the ground as he cups your ass, rolling your hip against his hard cock fighting with his pants. He can feel your arousal seeping down to his skin as you unbutton his pants, freeing him from restraint. You stroke him once, twice, three times before you lift up and sink down on-top of him. You slide down excruciatingly slow, letting him stretch and fill every inch of you. He watches your head fall back, your throat bob as the moan breaks loose, until your hips are flush against his.
He's reaching a hand out to go under your shirt and cup your breast as you take a shaky breath. Then you are moving, rolling your hips along him hand gripping at his chest.
"Look at you." He can't help it falling from his lips as he watches you ride him, watches you slide up and down his cock, kneading the flesh of your breast. "My angel."
You were an angel, God's favorite angel.
You would go by a different name now too.
"Mrs. Snow."
You moaned louder as his other hand found your clit between bodies rubbing circles into it as you fucked him faster chasing your own high. He digs his hand into your bra rolling your nipple between his fingers, thrusting his hips up to meet your own hitting the deepest parts of you. Your foot plants on the ground and you tilt forward, nails digging into his shoulders. He knows your close as your sweet breath pants into his face, as your lean down and swallow his mouth with your own whining down his throat.
"Cum for me." He nips at your bottom lip. "Come on, be a good girl and cum on my cock."
He feels you clamp down around him, crying out his name as your orgasm washes over you still moving up and down his hard length in a lazy motion riding yourself out on him. He grips your hips and flips you over pushing your leg up to his shoulder spreading your other knee out to open you up.
He pounds into your wet cunt the lewd slapping sound overtaking the small wake of waves in the pool beside you. You grip his arms as he forces your body against his, thrusting roughly into you as you fall apart within his hands. You claw down his chest, completely lost in the pleasure he was giving you, and his hand finds your throat and you love how harsh he could be with you. You had both changed in your time apart, or maybe there was no point in hiding the darkness after everything you'd done for each other.
"No more games." He hisses out with each brutal snap of his hips. "You're mine now." He hooks his fingers in your bottom jaw opening it wide, and then he spits down your throat. "Fucking say it." He lets his fingers slide off as you leave your lips parted for him to spit into your mouth again moaning for it, for him.
"Yours." You nod fervently lapping up his saliva, arching your back, "I'm yours Coryo." A second orgasm hits you, squeezing around him too tightly. He slams into you one last time before cumming deep, fucking all of it into you letting your legs fall numbly around him. "It was all for you anyways." You whisper once he stills letting him brush stray hair away from your glistening flushed face. "The games...I only played them for you."
He leans down, "Well I guess that makes you a victor too." He kisses you gently feeling your arms wrap around his neck. After a few minutes, he pulls out of you tucking himself back in his pants and helping you to your feet.
You glance down at the calming waters no ounce of remorse there for not taking the quieter route of poison. He thinks a violent end was more fitting too, for all that Felix had put the two of you through. You wave your hand around, "You need to delete the footage." You're moving bending down towards one of the puddles. "Before anyone sees, we'll say he tripped or whatever." You flash a wicked grin, "Another accident darling."
You stick your hand into one of the puddles and splash it onto your face. You stand up and start screaming. "Help! Please!" You wail running towards the door. "Please he fell in! He's dying!" He was dead the second he fell in but you don't let on to that. You shoot him a look, "Go."
He's stands there in awe of you, but what else is new.
Then he's moving heading to the computer to edit the footage of you murdering your fiancée to be with Coriolanus Snow.
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You move in a week later after all the funerals and arrangements were made. You came in the cover of darkness keeping a low profile regarding your new life; he didn't blame you for wanting to, best to let the dust settle to avoid looking suspicious.
He watches you in his bed, dawn's sunlight peeking through curtains as you sprawl out under rumpled sheets. You're beautiful, like a fallen angel from the heavens dropped onto his mattress just for him.
His hand runs down your spine feeling the sleepy groan rumble up your back as you turn to look at him. "My whole life all I've ever wanted was to wake up next to you." It's too soft he knows, he'll blame the lack of sleep due to fucking you through the night. He kisses your naked shoulder, fingers tracing the golden necklace that held a small 'C' on it, "I almost lost you."
"You almost did." You agree knowing you had almost turned your back on him, let him slip away to wallow in his mistakes.
"Never again," He mutters into your skin.
"I'll take that ring now." You purred into his ear.
He sits up digging into his bedside table fetching out the ring box, and opening it up for you. He plucks it out to slid onto your finger perfectly, watching you admire it with a certain sweetness he only could associate with you. "Mrs. Snow." He caresses your cheek, "First Lady of Panem."
You smile up at him, "I like the sound of that, Mr. President."
THE END
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endnotes: omg hi thank you all so much for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed reading!!! i truly believe all the nice comments on part one gave me performance anxiety about this so hoping it meets everyones standards 😭😭
taglist: @ryswritingrecord , @aoi-targaryen , @urfavnoirette , @sleepysongbirdsings
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winterarmyy · 2 years ago
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Behind The Facades | Part I
An unrequited pining over a certain super soldier.
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Summary: In which Y/N is pining over Bucky while she watch him wrap his arms around someone else.
Navigation: Part I || Part II || Part III (end)
Words: 1.2k++
Pairings: avenger!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: angst. just pure angst and pain.
P/S: i'm feeling melancholy all of the sudden, therefore this idea was born. It's a very short one but I hope you enjoy!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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"Never let your true feelings show." was one and if not the most important lesson Y/N learned from where she was trained before becoming an agent under the avengers program.
It was so deeply etched within her very being, that the habit had became as natural as breathing the air into her lungs.
"Keep that mask on, and no one will be able ever break you." They said.
So, she did exactly that.
She giggled when Bucky told her about how he managed to make a fool of himself when he attempted to flirt a girl that he had fallen for at that bar he regularly went to.
He really shouldn't read those random top 10 pickuplines articles on Google anymore.
Tears were threaten to fall, as her shoulders shook in silent laughter, "Really, Barnes? I thought you were the ladies man back in the 40's"
"Exactly. 'Were' . Now, I am clearly not. Urghh, I can't believe I let that birdbrain convince me that these 'pickuplines' would do the trick."
Despite his gruff annoyance towards Sam, she could see a tinge of red shade on Bucky's cheek; probably feel embarrassed from what happened.
Gulping down whatever drink he had in his glass Bucky huffed, "Honestly, I don't think any sane person would even consider to approach me, let alone date me." His sharp gaze wavered into something more vulnerable.
Though he didn't mention anything about his history but when he shifted his view to the metal of his left hand, Y/N knew what he meant.
Y/N gaze softens, "I'm here with you. Am I not?" Her nails dug into the skin of her thighs as she held back from wanting to touch him, kiss him, hold him; to whisper sweet nothings in his ears in hopes that it would shut whatever doubts he has of himself even for just a moment.
There was a swift glaze over Bucky's eyes. As if he realized something but his words seems to deny his revelation, "I said 'sane person', Y/N."
Y/N gasped with an exaggerated perplex on her expression, "Sargent James Buchanan Barnes..." she purposely called him by his title, hoping it will remind him that he should have the reputation of a respectful man, "... are you accusing me of losing my sanity?"
Bucky shrugs with a face of pure innocence, "In this tower? We all are. But, especially you." a playful smirk tugged the corner of his lips as he waited to witness her reaction.
She stifled a laugh when she heard a knock on her door and then greeted by what looked like a mountain flower, and in between them was Bucky.
He had impulsively bought almost half a dozen bouquet of flowers because he couldn't decided which one of them is pretty enough for his date.
He shyly laughed it off when she told him "You could've face-timed me at the shop instead of ended up buying this much of flowers, Buck."
"God, you're right, doll. Why didn't I thought of that?" He frowned as he sighed.
"Because you're old and forgetful, that's why." Y/N teased as she leaned to the door frame, arms folded across her chest.
Bucky rolled his eyes before sending a glare towards her, "You're not going to stop mentioning my age in everything, are you?" he grumbled.
He might not know it but Y/N managed to noticed a tiny pout on his lips; something only, as they said, Steve can notice. That slight difference on his lowers lips; a very minimal protrude, barely noticable.
But secretly, she can see it too. And it was something she wished she could brag about, something she could tell the world; how lucky she was to be able to notice those little things about him.
She chuckled with an answer, "Never."
Another grumble escaped from Bucky somewhere behind the bouquets, before he presented a particular set towards Y/N, "Anyway, this is for you." He acts reluctant but she knew he was always sincere with actions.
Her eyes skimmed through the gorgeous arrangement of daisies; her favourite.
For a mere second, she let her heart flutter and a genuine smile bloomed on her lips; however the truth was not supposed to surface.
If Bucky was not blinded by the bouquet, he would've seen how the joyous glint her eyes faded even if her smile was still intact.
"Bribery is an act against the law, you do know that right, Sargent?" Nevertheless, her hands reached out to take the gift.
Bucky chuckled in response, "Yes, ma'am. I do."
She smiled when Bucky's love-struck gaze shines when he told her about his first kiss with that lucky lady, during one of those midnight coffee trips she share with him at the pantry.
He should've seen how beautiful he looked that night; free of worries and caught in pure joy.
"It was..." Bucky sighed in content; he was so happy he lost his words. As he tried to find the right description of the kiss, she could see his gaze softens.
Y/N knew he was recalling the kiss, but she couldn't help but to fall for him all over again; not that it's not a recurring event everyday but she really did felt as if her heart stopped for more than necessary.
'He's so happy.' She thought to herself. 'Then, I should be happy for him too'
So she did exactly how it supposed to be done.
"Mirror their feelings; that way your true feelings will never show."
Y/N did exactly that.
That one habit that had lead Y/N to countless of undercover missions.
The same missions that left Y/N with one of the highest rate of successful inflitration, unharmed.
And yet, the facade she wore seemed to failed her this time.
Why didn't work?
Why does it hurts?
The longer she kept the mask on, the more it burns from within.
"Keep that mask on, and no one will be able ever break you."
Then, why does her heart aches as if it was falling apart?
Y/N could feel how weak her knees were becoming, she had to lean on counter tops for support. The slow ballad filling the living room, leaking to the pantry from where she stood and watched.
Oh, she loved this song.
She wrapped her shivering hands around the warm cup of coffee that she made as she watched the couple danced. And the longer her longing gaze linger on Bucky, the blurrier her vision get.
"Y/N..." Natasha softly grazed the side of Y/N's arm. How could she not notice Natasha coming in. Must have been her widow effect.
"You're breaking, honey." Natasha was meaning to imply about Y/N's heart but she was so set on hiding her feelings she thought Natasha meant differently, "I know." She replied as she sipped on the warm drink.
Her facades are breaking.
Her hazy vision remained on the, now shadows of the dancing couple, "I will put up a new one." She didn't even notice how her own voice cracked.
Tears overflowed from the corner of her eyes, "Just let this one crumble." Her lips trembled as she told the truth, "Cause I don't think I can fix this."
Part II >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: I'm thinking to have more of this couple; should i do it? Any thoughts?
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sweetbillwriting · 5 months ago
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In The Dead of Night
NINE
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Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)
Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie, especially because I haven't seen the movie.
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.
Notes: I have STILL not seen the movie because it hasn't premiered here yet!
“I just think about him a lot. I'm sorry, I don't have the right to do that; I haven't even met him; I just believe I would have really liked him…”
I sat opposite Lotti by her little table with Eric's photo albums in front of us. Sneakily, I had put back the photos I've stolen because I didn't need them anymore.
I shouldn't have been there; I was lying to her in the most awful way, but I also went behind Eric's back to find out things he didn't want to tell me. I had the answers right there, and my curiosity took over.
“You know, I think he would have liked you too. You have a curiosity he would have liked. You feel comfortable with yourself, but with optimism and creativity. He would have liked that,” Lotti said with a smile. She had a good day today and talked about Eric with a smile. I smiled back at her by her words, but the warmth in my chest was from the memory of hearing Eric say “I love you” to me. He had said it that morning on the phone. I would go to him later that night; he worked late that Saturday, so I didn't have a reason to go to him that early, but I had a key to his apartment, so I didn't need to wait for him.
“Can't you tell me more about him? Why do you think he started to take drugs?”
Lotti looked out through the window and smiled sadly. It felt like she had a need to talk about everything, and I was right; my simple question made her tell me stories I never thought I would hear.
×××
Lotti looked at the little boy in the playroom, through the plexiglas. He wore a striped long-sleeved shirt in green shades and red sweatpants. The clothes were a bit big and looked well-used, probably from other kids social services had rescued from dysfunctional homes. He was two years old but lacked the chubby cheeks other two-year-olds would have but also was disinterested in the toys surrounding him. A white rabbit stuffy lay just in front of him, but he didn't give it a look; he just looked around. A young social worker sat by his side and looked at him with wonder. He looked like a doll with his big green eyes, and he sat just as still with his small hands resting on his thighs.
“He can't stand up yet or crawl, so that's probably why he doesn't play,” said the social worker next to Lotti and her husband Eric. They nodded a little even if something else felt wrong.
“Why can't he do that? Does he have a disability?” Eric asked the social worker and looked at baby Eric again. He hadn't moved an inch.
“No, no. He's healthy. Just a little underweight and some rashes. Ehm… We believe he hasn't left the crib very often. Most of his time had probably been spent alone in the bed-”
“What? Has his mother left him in the crib?�� Lotti looked between the social worker and the boy, upset.
"Yes, but that is nothing that will shape him. He's so young, so that's nothing you’ll need to worry about.”
The social worker said it with assurance, even if there wasn't any research on the subject in the 90s.
Lotti nodded but felt a lump in her throat.
"His mother is sentenced to six months in prison for drug trafficking, but we believe she needs help with the boy after that too. She must make changes to be able to get him back.”
Lotti was sure. She didn't need to know any more. She wouldn't leave that boy to his destiny. They had room for one more child in their home, and Eric, her husband, earned enough money as a seller in the technology field. It was a business growing every day, and his salary went up with it. He looked at Lotti with a calming smile. He knew his wife had already made a decision, and he felt the same. They could give the boy the security he never had. He looked at the papers, seeing the boy’s name, the surname they shared. It felt like a sign. He wasn't the religious type, but Eric was a family name, a name passed on with love and respect.
The social secretary opened the door to the room baby Eric was in, and the married couple saw him look towards it with a fast movement. They walked in slowly to him, afraid that their presence would scare him, but he sat the same way and looked at them with big eyes. Carefully, Eric lifted up the boy in his arms, and Lotti moved close to them. His eyes shifted from side to side, looking at them. He looked sad but with a calm curiosity.
“Hey Eric, hey sweetie…” said Lotti. He looked at her the same way, but his eyes gave away so many emotions. Lotti dragged a finger over her cheek, wiping away a tear. For her, it was impossible to think that the boy's mom didn't want to take care of him; he had an aura—a much stronger aura than other kids his age had. It was just something with him. Lotti looked at her husband, who had pulled the boy closer to his chest. Both could feel it in their bones, and they could see in the other's eyes they felt the same thing. This boy was theirs. This boy was theirs, and they would do everything in their power for him to only be theirs and save him from his mother and all the darkness.
×××
Little Eric stood on a chair by the sink next to Lotti. He was quite short for his four years but had a personality bigger than other boys his age, and so lovable Lotti could see how others envied her. He stood and washed the dishes with her and laughed while playing with the bubbles. He always wanted to be close to them, always wanting to help.
“You're so good at this, Eric!” Said Lotti with a laugh when he gave her a completely clean glass. Eric laughed again so she could see the deep dimple in his cheek. She kissed it hard and dragged her fingers through his messy hair. In just a few hours, he would go to his biological mother and then come back to them as a shell again. He never told them what happened at his mother's, and that was what made it harder for them to do something. There was no proof the bruises on his little body were from something else than rough playing, but Lotti knew her boy so well, his games well, and it wasn't bruises from the playground.
Lotti woke up from her thoughts when she heard her other son in the living room. He was playing video games and made sound effects for the game. Eric looked towards the living room, and when Lotti did it too, he waved with his little hand, showing that he wanted them to look at what Robin was doing. He always wanted skin-to-skin contact, so Lotti pulled him up on her hip and carried him out to the living room. Robin gave them a bit of an irritated look but wiped it away when his mom dragged her fingers through his hair.
“Are you winning?”
“Yes!” He screamed proudly, and Lotti giggled at him. She looked at Eric, who didn't seem to find the game amusing, and instead looked out from the living room's big window.
“It's sunny…” he said with a small voice. Lotti often got the feeling he didn't dare to use his full voice, and he almost whispered when he talked.
“Do you want to go out? Should we go out and draw a little?”
Eric nodded and dragged his hand over her neck. He was soon five years old but felt both younger and older at the same time.
They moved out to the back of the house, in the early spring sun. She could see Robin through the window and, at the same time, make the last few hours of Eric's time there the best she could. He sat in her lap, drawing whales and colorful birds. He was great at it and could disappear into it completely, but not today. She knew he knew what would happen soon. How they would put him in the car and drive him to the social service office, where his biological mom would get him. She knew he would cry in panic and how the social worker would need to pull him away from her neck. She knew Linda would look smug when she left with their son, not because he wanted her more, just that she was his mom, whatever they said. She didn't need Eric's love; she just wanted to win.
Lotti knew she would cry the rest of the day and think about what Eric did at his mom's place. She wondered in what state he would come home in. Eric hugged her hand hard in his and looked up at her with his big soulful eyes. They were shining with tears.
“I love you, mommy…”
It was a plea, a cry for help, but she couldn't do anything. She took a deep breath so she wouldn't start crying and hugged his little body against hers.
“I love you too, Eric. My baby, my son... I love you most in the entire world.”
×××
It was the third meeting they have had with Eric's school that year. Becoming a teenager was not easy for him, and it revealed sides in him they hadn't noticed before.
He had been such a calm child, and after he stopped seeing his mother, he also started to feel safe and comfortable in his own skin, but instead of those sides growing in him, other things took over.
While some teenagers became a bit moody, he got depressed and had a hard time getting up from bed in the mornings. When he finally was in school, he couldn't concentrate and did things you should absolutely not do in a classroom. Playing with a lighter and burning things up was his favorite, painting on the walls another. Even if all his teachers saw that he was a nice boy with serious problems, they kicked him out of the classroom, and Eric found himself chain smoking and listening to music that matched his mood. He was lonely. Extremely lonely, so when the wrong sort of people stretched a hand out to him, he was quick with taking it.
“We haven't seen Eric for a week now. If it continues like this, we're forced to call social service,” said the principal and leaned against his desk. Lotti looked at her husband and sighed deeply. It was always heartbreaking to hear about how Eric slowly destroyed his life. She knew it wasn't his fault. His biological mother had probably taken substances while pregnant; he had trauma since his childhood with her, and on top of that, he had such severe panic attacks that he had cried for death.
“Eric is a lovely young man and is really appreciated as a person-”
“So why don't you help him more? The only thing you do is throw him out of the classroom! Why should he go to school when no one wants him here?” Lotti said, upset. The principal gave her husband a look, like he thought he should calm his wife down, but Eric felt the same thing and looked at the principal with an angry look.
“We must think about the other students... You haven't thought about maybe taking Eric to a doctor? To get some help with his... problems?”
Lotti looked down at her hands and sighed deeply. She knew they probably needed to do that, but pulling him away to a doctor felt awful. He didn't need that on top of everything else.
×××
Robin always came home from school alone, even if they had told him to drive his brother home. They had given him a new metallic red Mercedes, and it’d been clear that he would give Eric a ride home. Robin always said Eric wanted to go home by himself, and their parents didn't know what to think. Eric liked being alone, but it was a long way home. Lotti looked at Robin disappear to his bedroom with two girls laughing while she sat down by the window. She worried the whole day for Eric and how the medications would affect him. He was such a sweet boy, and she didn't want to destroy that with all the pills he had been prescribed.
She smiled a little when she saw him come walking. He looked like a black raincloud in his black zip hoodie, black jeans, black hair, and black eyeliner around his eyes. He carried his khaki backpack on one shoulder, full of pins from different bands and motifs made to provoke. Still, the kids on the street jump around him. Eric smiled a little while they tried to impress him with their skateboards and MP3 players. Lotti got warm in her chest. It was just something really special with him, and everyone liked him.
“Hey mom!” He shouted when he came in through the door.
"Hey, honey,” answered Lotti and walked out to the hallway to meet him. He had pulled off his hoodie and surprised her with a yellow t-shirt, a sex pistol t-shirt, and he had put his converse neatly on the shoe rack.
He gave her a hug, like he always did when he came home and Lotti took his hand. They needed to talk but were interrupted by Robin's laugh. He came down with his two girlfriends, and Lotti let go of Eric's hand to not embarrass him in front of the older girls. They giggled when they saw him, and he got red in the cheeks and ears.
“Hey Eric,” said one of the girls, and the both of them giggled. Robin rolled his eyes.
“Don't forget to come home for dinner,” said Lotti to her oldest son while her younger son stood looking down on the floor.
“Yeah, yeah!” He answered and opened the door for the girls. Just before he closed it, both Lotti and Eric heard one of the girls say, excited:
“Your brother is so fucking cute!”
Lotti looked at her youngest son, who smiled embarrassed but tried to hide it from his mother. She smiled at him, amused. It was true; he was cute, and she knew he would be more than that one day. She wished she didn't need to have the talk she needed to have with him—let him bask in the girl’s words—but instead she needed to take him to the kitchen, where his medications stood in a row.
“So this is for your ADD, this is the antidepressants, these you can take if you have anxiety, these are for the OCD…” Lotti looked at a note while pointing at the medications in front of them. Eric looked at the medications and dragged his hand over a bruise on his neck he had told his parents was from his karate training. He saw something else than his mom did while looking at the pills.
“You can have them here in the kitchen, in a cabinet-”
Eric gave her a disliking look.
“Robin's friends are always here digging around; can't I just have it in my room?” He said and continued to drag his hand over the bruise. Lotti looked at her son. He was a trustworthy young man, and she trusted him with her life.
“Okay, but you must take them every day.”
Eric nodded, taking the medications in his hands, and walked up the stairs. He would take them every day, but also take more and more for every day.
×××
“That doctor… I can't understand why he felt it was a good idea to give a fourteen-year-old so many medications… But also…” Lotti sighed and looked down at the pictures of Eric. “I can't understand how I thought it was a good idea for him to take care of it all himself. I forgot he wasn't my own flesh and blood so many times…”
I sat in silence for a while, until Lotti sighed.
“But what happened then? I guess you noticed he had taken them all?”
Lotti nodded.
“Yes, and we didn't get him any more medications. He tried to tell us he wouldn't do it again, but we weren't that stupid this time. Then I kinda... Forgot about it all?” Lotti looked shameful. “You must understand, Eric was such a lovely young man with me and others around; I kind of forgot he actually didn't feel well, or maybe I didn't want to believe so? He was just sweet all the time, so we didn't notice he fixed his own drugs instead.”
“Like what?”
“First I think it was weed, then he started with ecstasy and amphetamine... I don't really know when he started to take opiates.”
It was all so sad. They had wanted to give him everything, but his background caught up with him. He had inherited the addiction gene and was also traumatized by abuse. He didn't have a chance. His anxiety had taken over his life, and he still was fighting so hard.
I looked at Lotti while she dried her tears with her floral napkin. I wanted to tell her that the person she loves the most was alive and quite happy, but I didn't dare. I didn't know how that would affect her, and I didn't want to create fights with either Robin or Eric. It was both their choice, and I wanted to give them both respect.
“Did he take drugs all the time after that?”
Lotti looked up at me again and made a loud exhalation. It probably took all her power to talk about Eric, but she continued anyway.
“No, he had a girlfriend that got him to stop, Felice, but when the relationship started to go south, he also felt a need for drugs. And then… With Simone, everything got so much worse.” I looked at Lotti with big eyes. I could feel a stir of anger in my stomach when I thought about Simone, but also jealousy, it was hard thinking about Eric with another woman.
“She broke his heart. Eric was a sensitive boy—so sensitive, and she didn't take his mental health problems seriously. She didn't understand where his addiction came from, so she broke up with him. The next I hear...” Lotti took a break and swallowed hard. “The next…” She swallowed hard again, but the tears had gathered in her eyes and would spill over even if she did everything in her power not to cry. I took her hand in mine, and she let herself cry silently.
“He had overdosed. Heroine. My boy… My little boy…” she cried. My heart beated hard in my chest, and my throat burned like I had swallowed a match. It was awful that she believed he was dead.
“When was this?” I asked carefully.
“Soon three years ago.”
I nodded slowly. It must have been around the same time she had been through her accident, so it was easy to fool her, but that was also what made it even worse. She had also lost her husband around the same time. Why did they do this to Lotti?
×××
The full moon looked at us while we made out. Big and round, it stared at us just like in my dreams, but this time we weren't alone. We sat outside on a cold autumn night after having danced at The Pulse. Four of his friends sat and looked at us while we made out on a teeter-totter on the playground. We had run around there like two kids while his friends passed around a joint.
I had his bomber jacket on top of my own coat while he just wore an oversized t-shirt with a big picture of Courtney Love in a thin neglige. Even if he had so few clothes on, I put my cold hands on his stomach to touch his skin and muscles.
“He's just skinny!” Shouted Jackie towards us, and both me and Eric looked at him amused. Eric dragged me closer to him so he could stuff his nose in my hair and breathe in, and I dragged my hands to his naked back.
“Should we go home?” He whispered, and I nodded. I wanted him to myself now.
“Do you know she stalked you?” Shouted Jackie just as loudly as he had done before. Eric looked at him with a smirk, like it was a bad joke. I, on the other hand, gave Jackie a worried look and swallowed hard.
“Yeah, she had seen you around and begged me for your address. It wasn't a coincidence you met her outside the store.”
Eric looked at me with a confused smirk. He didn't seem to believe Jackie, and neither would I, if it hadn’t been about me.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We're going home now,” said Eric, who helped me off the teeter before he stood up himself. While doing that, his sleeve rode up, and I could see the aggressively purple bruise on his upper arm. I saw that Nick looked at it too, but I looked away when he looked at me.
“It's nice seeing you together. Seeing you with a girl. It suits you,” said Nick in a brotherly way, but there was a hint of worry there too. Eric lit up and pulled me close to him. He looked at me with big eyes.
“Yeah. It feels like a dream sometimes.” He didn't let me go with his eyes while his friends started to ‘oh and ah’ and whistle as a joke. Eric smirked at them but then lifted me up easily so I had my legs around his waist.
“Let's go home.”
×××
It was all so good between us, except when his anxiety crept on him in the night, like something heavy lay on his chest, and he couldn't get it away. I could see him touch his neck, like that was the solution. I dragged his hand away and let him lay against my chest and breathe deeply.
“Tell me. What do you think about?”
Eric laid quiet, like he expected the question to disappear if he just ignored it.
“Talk to me, please.”
“I don't know,” he said lowly. “Just shit. Old memories.”
“What kind of memories?” I wanted him to tell me about his childhood with his own words, but he was quiet again.
“It can help to talk about it.”
“I don't know what to say,” he said and shrugged his shoulders. “It's just bullshit things.” 
He was just the same as he was when he was four years old. I wondered if he had told anyone what had actually happened to him as a child. I dragged my fingers through his hair until he suddenly talked with a whisper, like he didn't dare to say it out loud.
“It was my own fault... I should have said something, but... I guess I was ashamed."
“You don't need to be ashamed; it wasn't your fault.” 
My comment could reveal I knew more than I should, but he didn't say anything about it; he just sighed deeply and laid a hand over his face. 
“Eric? You were a child; it's okay to talk about it. You don't have any responsibility for this.” 
He nodded a little but didn't remove his hand, so I moved him away from my chest and laid down so our faces were at the same height. 
I waited for him to say something, and at last he did. 
“I had the best parents... My foster parents. I love…” he swallowed hard and looked down at the sheets. “They were the best, but my biological mother... Eh fuck,” he sat up in bed and laid his hands over his face. I didn't move, hoping he would lay down when he was ready. 
“She was just fucked up.” He shrugged his shoulders like that was all. 
“Fucked up, how?” I asked and dragged my hand over his naked back. Eric put his hands on his head and dragged them back to his neck in an uncomfortable manner. 
“Eh fuck Della, I don't want to talk about this.” 
I nodded a little and pulled lightly on his forearm. 
“Okay, of course. Come now, baby, let's sleep…”  
He laid down on my chest again, and I hugged his head in my arms. I was disappointed he didn't want to tell me, and at the same time, I worried so much about him. It wasn't healthy to carry around such things in his chest without processing them. I also felt the bad conscience grow in my tummy. I knew so much about him but pretended to know nothing so he would tell me more. 
Eric fell asleep after having listened to my heart for a couple minutes; he didn't seem to notice it beating harder with anxiety. I was his girlfriend, but the only thing I did was lie. I wanted to be honest; I wanted our relationship to be true, but for that to happen, I needed to tell him I had stalked him, I had fooled his mom and brother, and I had lied to him. He would never forgive me for that. 
I pressed my cheek against the top of his head and breathed in his minty shampoo. I tried to calm myself with deep breaths, but my tears slipped down in his black hair and disappeared. I wished it could be as easy for my lies to disappear. 
 ××× 
I could see that all of my girlfriends looked at Eric with big eyes, even my sister, Desiree. 
We were out dancing at a club, celebrating Halloween, and getting tipsy on tequila shots. Eric was one of the few guys in the club that had some sort of Halloween costume. He had let me do his makeup, and we matched each other, with black tears streaming down our cheeks, and he also had my black lipstick on. He did what he wanted and didn't even think about how people would react. 
“I think you need a glass of water!” He said to me over the music and laughed at my disoriented look. “I’ll get one for you!”
Eric stood up and walked away to the bar. He towered over most people, and it made it easy for me to see where he went. I looked at my friends who also looked after him. He wore a dark gray tank top in a loose model that showed off his arms and muscular chest. He paired it with bleached jeans that sat baggy on his long legs. 
“He's hot as fuck!” Nessa said to me loudly over the music even if her boyfriend sat next to her. I giggled and laid my head against the couch. I was a bit too drunk, but I had the luxury to know I had a boyfriend who would be able to carry me home. 
“He is, but... He looks like a player! Are you sure he is a good guy?” asked Desiree and looked at me seriously. 
“He's not a player! I promise. Don't you notice how shy he is?” 
Eric had said hello to everyone but kept mostly quiet while we talked. He just nodded a little with a smile when he agreed with something. 
“Are you sure he's shy? It can just be a way to win you over,” said Nessa's boyfriend and took a sip of his beer. I gave him an irritated, pointed look.
“You think he has played shy for three months? He's shy! Even if he looks like a bad boy!” I said with a drunken giggle. Desiree shook her head amused and also giggled. We fell quiet when Eric came back, carrying a glass of water for me and a beer for himself. In my toxication, I crawled into his lap with a giggle and kissed his face several times. I was so proud to have such a hot, sweet boyfriend. I could see jealous eyes on us. Eric smirked at me but then pressed his lips against mine. 
“What's your training routine?” Paulina's boyfriend asked suddenly. I had seen him looking at Eric a lot, but I hadn't put so much thought into what it meant, but now I knew. I looked at Eric, who played with my short leather skirt with an uncomfortable expression. He was probably not so comfortable answering that because he trained a bit too much. It was sometimes many hours a day. 
“No, you don't really know, right? You just work out when you want to,” I said so he wouldn't need to answer the question. He looked at me with big eyes, then smiled. 
“Yeah, it's not scheduled, so I don't know,” said he with a shoulder shrug.
××× 
We became even more intoxicated, except Eric, who drank as much as the other guys but was completely unfazed. We were outside of the club, ready to go to the next destination, but we needed to wait on Nessa, who puked in an alley with Desiree as help. Paulina and Amanda looked between me and Eric, leaning against the building further away, closer to the alley. 
“He's super hot... Isn't that hard? I don't mean this in a bad way, but... He's a really hot guy, while you're more... Cute?” said Amanda.
I scoffed and looked at Eric, who had pulled up his tank top to show his abs for the men around him. It was silly behavior and probably nothing they would have done if they weren't drunk. 
“You mean I'm not hot enough for him?” 
“I don't mean it like that! Just that you maybe don't match?” 
I shook my head in disbelief but also wondered how she would continue the conversation, but instead both of my friends just looked at him when he laughed showing off his abs. I was so proud of him. So, so proud of that amazing human, but now I felt worried and jealous. Because of Demi's reaction to him, I had started to believe I was the only one seeing his beauty, but I was so wrong; even the guys stood and gawked at his body. I had been naive, and now I got worried some other girl was around the corner, prepared to steal my man. 
I left Paulina and Amanda without saying anything and walked up to my tall boyfriend. He was the tallest in the group. He was the fittest in the group. The hottest of them too. I wasn't the hottest of my friends; I wasn't even the tallest. 
“I'm tired,” I whined and pushed my face against his chest, acting like I was more drunk than I was. Eric looked down at me with a silly smile and put my hair behind my ear with soft fingers. 
“Do you want to go home?” He asked and lifted my chin so he could look me in the eyes. I pouted and nodded like a sour five-year-old. He played with my pouting underlip with his thumb in a teasing way and made the same face himself. 
“Then we go home, yeah?” 
I nodded but lifted my arms, and he lifted me up like it was obvious what I wanted. I could see my girlfriends look at me with some sort of envy. Maybe they just wanted their boyfriends to be more like Eric, or they wanted him. I didn't care, the only thing I knew was that I would never let him go. He was mine. 
××× 
How we ended up on the floor I couldn't remember. I could only remember what I saw right then and there. Eric had my naked leg in a tight grip, slung over his shoulder, while snapping his hips fast. His girthy cock pushed into me fast and hard and I could hear myself moaning in a pathetic way; sometimes I even mixed in his name, something I've never done with any guy before. When I looked up at him, I could see his dark gaze and open mouth. I could see a sweaty chest and abs and a v-line carved with the sharpest knife. He kissed my calf while slapping his hips against mine. He let me often lay down because I couldn't match his strength and stamina, but he didn't complain; it felt more like he fucked me even harder because he wanted to tease me.
“Can I come inside of you?” He said it between his pants, and I just nodded. He had learned he didn't need to do much to get me to come when he had transformed me into a pile of just lifeless body parts, he just pressed down with two fingers over my clit, like it was a button, and rubbed it a few times, then I came together with him. 
××× 
I really needed to start to work out again. Even if I hadn't really done any heavy lifting, I had pain in my thighs the next morning. I was happy my parents had been nice and had taken Odin for a night; in exchange, they could meet my boyfriend. I looked at my boyfriend snoring loudly with an open mouth. He always snored loudly when he had been drinking alcohol. Sometimes he even woke me up. I was nervous about bringing him to my parents. I knew he would be the best boy but I didn't know if my parents would be as well behaved. I don’t even think they had seen someone with as many tattoos as Eric. They would probably be uncomfortable but I hoped they at least would be nice. 
I laid my nose against his neck even if he was snoring and slung a leg over his hip. I just wanted to be close, and I hoped the sight of my pussy so close to his cock would make him perk up when he was awake. I smirked to myself, lost in filthy thoughts, so I didn't even hear the entrance door open. 
If I knew, I would have jumped up and closed the door to the bedroom. If I knew that Robin had taken his own key to surprise me early in the morning, I would have suggested Eric should take a run in my neighborhood. The last thing I would do was lay naked with his brother, who started to get hard in his sleep. 
I thought I heard the sound of keys but waved it away as nothing. Instead, I dug down my nose even further down in Eric's neck and let my pussy push against his hardened cock. I knew it was okay I did that; he just likes being woken up with sex.
“What the fuck?” I heard Robin say behind me in such a confused voice that I didn't even recognize his voice. I turned to the door and met his blue eyes that looked at us upset. First I couldn't move, even if he could see so much of our naked bodies, and when I started to realize what was actually happening, I moved away from Eric and covered us both up with covers. 
“Oh my god, oh my god... Robin, it wasn't meant…” I whined and put my hands over my face in shame. 
“You're fucking with him??” Said Robin, upset and waved with his arms, so he accidentally waved down a vase standing on my vanity table. It was crushed into hundreds of small pieces, but it also crushed Eric's sleep, and he looked up, confused. He sat up, exposing his whole naked torso, and it made Robin look away, like he thought the view was disgusting. Eric looked at Robin in silence than at me in confusion. 
“What, what, what is this?” He stuttered. His big green eyes were full of worry but also hurt. He already knew I had done something stupid that would break his trust in just as many pieces as the vase. 
×
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theangelsheardyou · 9 months ago
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In a dominant mood so here's how I think bsd men would act as subs
Atsushi
Would be a very obedient sub
Trusts you in every way imaginable
You know how parents tell you "well if your friend told you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?"??
Yea that's him
If you told him to do something stupid or dangerous whether in the bedroom or not he would immediately trust that you have a plan behind it (even if you actually don't, he doesn't know that)
Other than that, he's very anxious when it comes to PDA, at least at first
But once he gets used to it, and by that I mean used to the feeling of being loved, then he will slowly start warming up to and even asking for it
When it comes to sex, he can be even more bashful and awkward about it
He mostly whimpers and whines and it's not super loud, but if it does get to that point he's very self aware and scared of others hearing him, so he covers his mouth right away
I think he'd be most compatible with a more gentle top
He can't handle very heavy scenes and I can't imagine him having a very active libido
He has sex to express love and passion, not just for a quick fling that doesn't mean anything
Outside of the bedroom, he's very quiet about what goes on in there
Dazai likes to tease him about it and you love how his pale complexion turns into a pretty shade of red
Dazai
Oh this man is OBNOXIOUS
He's the type of sub that makes you wanna fuck him so hard he actually shuts the fuck up for a second
One of the brattiest of the bunch, for some reason has to turn anything and everything into a game of cat and mouse
Also one of the horniest, believe me you'll be drained DRY after like a week or so
This man's libido is UNMATCHED
He may be taller than you, smarter than you, and possibly stronger than you when it comes to his ability,
But in every other way you are in charge And some part of him always wants to challenge that
Loves to be paraded around like a showdog (but prefers the term "trophy wife")
He's a little princess and always gets what he wants
I think he'd fit best with a dom who could handle his.....special traits
He needs someone who won't get tired of him so quickly and leave, just like everyone else in his life did
But he also needs someone to put him in his place from time to time
Dealing with dazai isn't for the faint of heart, anyone who's done it before knows that
So maybe if you're strong enough, smart enough, and a little bit delusional and crazy, you could have this cute little former mafioso wrapped around your finger like a worm on a string <3
Fyodor
Tbh this one's the whole reason why I made this post in the first place😆
This one's also a little....different...from the others
And by that I mean he's worse
His brattiness doesn't come in the form of disobeying orders or having a fit in front of your friends
No, this one will purposefully pick you apart psychologically
Trying to get this man to behave will require a labyrinth of words, a battle of the minds
He needs someone who can challenge him, because if they don't, he wouldn't bother to be submissive towards them at all, they don't deserve it.
He's one half sickly and one half pride, so taking care of him isn't gonna be easy
Of course you'd have to know going in that Fyodor's self care is abysmal and as his dom you'd have to take responsibility for his health
Taking care of his pills, his diet, making sure he eats and sleeps on time, gets enough rest, drinks enough water, exercises, that's all on you from now on
But you do it cause you love him
Sometimes he'll be bratty and arrogant enough to take you for granted, and would snap at you and tell you he doesn't need someone to baby him when you just were trying to help
But after enough time, he'll realize he was wrong, and as his health depletes, he'll slowly start to inch towards you, asking for your help
You would make sure it gets to the point where he'd have to beg. Make him realize what it's truly like to not have you "distracting" him with your care and concern
And eventually, if he's put up a pathetic enough display for you, you'll hold him in your arms, warm chest comforting him as he leans his head and torso on it
You'll watch how he shivers each time he takes a breath, his eyes are glassy and staring at nothing, his hair is drowning in grease, and it's obvious he hadn't showered in days, but you don't mind
All of this means he's vulnerable, which means he's weak, which means he's malleable.
Malleable enough for you to mold into whatever you please.
Because the only person who could dominate the demon Fyodor is someone who could become the demon Fyodor.
Whether he knew it or not, you were just as sinister as he was, possibly even more.
And every breath he took was another foolish step into your web, a plan you had conducted just for him
So he can be as proud and smug as he wants, but at the end of the day,
You are in control.
Chuuya
It's kind of hard for me to decipher what kind of sub he'd be to be honest
I want to say he'd be a brat but that term doesn't seem to describe him exactly
Sure, he's got a lot of pride, so getting him to submit to you or even to simply let you take the wheel will be difficult.
He's too stuck in his old habits, too used to having to take care of everything, so being taken care of for a change will be a new feeling to him.
He's also scared to love you, scared to let himself bring another person into his heart, afraid of instead accidentally luring you to your death as he had done with so many others.
No, he's not ready to lose another person. Not again.
He's grown to see his love for others as a trap, a ploy, a misfortune. It was like a prophecy for someone's death.
But you, you were different from the rest.
You were strong. Strong enough to protect yourself, strong enough to stand your ground. In fact, you could probably even protect the gravity manipulator Chuuya Nakahara himself.
It took a long time for him to be ready. Ready to open himself up for you. But you let him take his time. You let him think things through. And despite everything, you were there.
You both sprouted a relationship neither of you thought you could do before
And the sex wasn't just sex to you two, no, it could be a distraction, a vacation, an escape, a break, an apology, you name it.
Sex would be a big part of you guys' relationship
I like to think that Chuuya is a lot hornier than he says he is, and also a lot more submissive
Learning that he was a sub was surprising for you, especially because of, well, everything about him
But that was cool for you, as you were vers, and you had to admit you loved the way he screamed and cried under you.
The look in his eyes, the blush in his cheeks, the spit dripping from the corners of his mouth, even the small wounds he had gotten from biting his lips so hard to keep in a moan was adorable
Fucking in his penthouse was great because he had red lighting in almost every room, giving it a sexy, moody vibe.
It also reminded him of his place. He may be rich, he may be a mafia executive, and he may have a couple dozen people under his command, but no matter where or what he is, he will always be a pathetic little whore for you.
You fuck him in his room to remind him his riches mean nothing. He means nothing. All he is is a slut, and he must be reminded of that.
I think he'd be best compatible with a quieter personality to counter his loud one, but I think that loud, brash personality is most present around Dazai. Though he can have a little bit of a temper from time to time, even around you
He needs someone who doesn't care about status or ranks, Port mafia executive or not, you'll fuck him like there's no tomorrow and once you're done he'll be clinging to you like a lost little dog.
Ranpo
Brat. Brat Brat Brat. NOTHING about this boy is topping.
I mean, I do see him as a switch, but in this case, he's the brattiest brat to ever brat.
Will require you give him sweets and cold drinks whenever he asks, will make you drive him places, teach him things and even fuck him when he's too lazy to do the fucking.
He'll be obnoxious all day and then look at you like he's done nothing wrong his whole life. Spoiled little shit.
He's exactly the type of sub you would fuck into submission until you hear a sorry or any sort of appropriate apology.
He likes to be fucked lying down, sometimes sitting and leaning against something, but sometimes you'll force him to sit on you and ride you up and down even though you know he hates it. You'll never hear the end of it from him, though.
He likes to be fucked while eating, too. You'll fuck him from behind with a hand out and spoonfeeding him cake, and the rapid shaking of your bodies and the table he's up against will leave traces of cake all over his chin and cheeks. He doesn't know if he wants cake or if he wants you to eat his cake. Either way, he wants and needs you bad.
I think he'd be best fit with a top who would usually just give in to all his demands and would be patient with his bratty personality, but knows when it's been taken too far. You'd be calm and gentle with him, but come nighttime, you're a beast in bed, making sure he makes up for everything he did in the office that day.
He's not the type to apologize I don't think, he'd definitely beg if it's gotten too much for him but an apology? That's asking too much. Just take the moans and cries and leave.
However, right afterwards he'd go back to his usual bratty self no matter how bad the punishment was. In couldn't have been that harsh anyway, as you could never say no to Ranpo's cute face.
Akutagawa
When I say this man is a Virgin I mean he's a VIRGIN VIRGIN.
As in as virgin as the virgin mother mary
He hadn't even had time for sex before you came along.
You taught him everything, even things about his own body that he didn't even know. Like how he doesn't like the feeling of frotting because he doesn't like how another man's dick is on his own. Or how he likes when you pump his cock slowly, especially since he's so new to the game that he couldn't handle more even if he tried. Poor boy😔
He finds it odd, the feeling of being pampered. Being provided with food everyday, a warm place to live, constant affection, he didn't know what to do with it. It was as if he was an alien studying earth and experiencing the most mundane things for the first time.
And the weirdest thing about it was, he liked it. He liked the feeling of being taken care of, being provided for and pampered, and it was odd. He wasn't sure if he even deserved such wonderful feelings.
When it comes to sex, you better believe this man's got some weird shame thing related to sex
He sees it as a filthy task that he, unfortunately, likes to partake in.
He's ashamed even bringing it up, let alone asking for it.
But once you get the memo you take action and calmly and gently take care of him
Akutagawa's been used to violence, been used to screams of pain and agony, but this? It's soft. It's sweet. It's tender. He's not used to it but part of him wants to be. He's never been so happy in his life.
He's not the type to whine and whimper so much like Atsushi, instead he'll let out a low grunt here and there and maybe throw in a moan somewhere too.
He's into the wildest things, most of which involving your ability with his. It's probably some weird psychological thing where he's associated his ability strength = worth thing to the bedroom which......isn't healthy.
But once you're done his sickly little body is spent, his already damaged lungs trying desperately to keep moving. You hold him over your shoulder, as being carried bridal style would mess with his pride. Arm wrapped around your shoulder and tugging at you inner arm, he leans into you the way he's never done for anyone before.
He feels odd now, as if he's just discovered something new. Learning and even participating in sex has left him with many questions, that hopefully you could answer.
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random-fandom1984 · 9 months ago
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Hi!! 😆
May I request TFP Yandere Soundwave x human reader?
Thank for reading this (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง✨
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Sorry if it doesn't have that much yandere as you were hoping for.
Okay, so, the only way I can see that you could've gotten his attention is either you're related to one of the three human charges – family or friend. Because of that, you don't know about the Autobots and Decepticons.
Soundwave was given the mission to find out more about the human pets, through humans that are close to them. Out of all of their family and friends, he chose you.
He only went through some of your info, and you're a friend of Miko's host parents that lives in a state up north, in Gravity Falls, Oregon (Yes, I'm making a little crossover with GF, but TFP came out 2 years before Gravity Falls existed, so Weirdmageddon hasn't happened yet, nor have the Pine Twins visited yet.)
You've met Miko a few times when you've came to visit, and it's best to say you don't like how loud, irresponsible, foolish, and doesn't understand people's boundaries. You were a rather quiet introverted person, and she was an overbearing extrovert, so you two didn't mix well.
When it was Christmas last year, they were at your family gathering, and she almost got your cousins hurt with firecrackers, who were mainly toddlers and young children. She even said, quote-unquote, that "They needed to live a little and not have helicopter parents deciding everything for them." The thing was that your aunts and uncles weren't helicopter parents, they were normal, calm, and understanding parents!
Miko was one of the main reasons why you lost faith in humanity, and you despised her with a burning passion. You even told this to her in her face, but she would say that you're just grumpy and should take a nap. As if you were a little child that didn't know better!
You work as an online artist that takes request for people who can't draw certain things like, animals, details, DND characters, Oc's etc.
As time went on, he was starting to get obsessed with learning more about you, and he knows more about you than anyone else you know in your life. Your favorite animal are birds, your favorite color is d/s/f/c (Dark Shade of Favorite Color), you hate people, don't like talking, have a pet European Starling named Jermey, after the crow in the Secret of Nimh because of his love for shiny and sparkly things, who is also the model for your watermarks on your designs, you like dying your hair, and so much more.
You were having a normal day, doing a live stream as you were taking requests from your viewers, when this one person in particular to do a city made out of metal, the people are robots that can transform, and even gave you an image that they "made" that was called Kaon. Interested, you took up this challenge.
It was safe to say that Soundwave wasn't disappointed with the end results of it; It looked magnificent. The image of his home was nostalgic of the good old days of Cybertron, when it wasn't just him and Laserbeak, when all of his children minicons were still alive.
The two of you kept in contact and became friends on the internet. You would tell each other about how your days went; you were told that he works as one of the higher ups in a company, has to deal with an annoying, loud, arrogant assistant of his boss – reminds you of a certain someone –, has a pet bird, is introverted, doesn't talk, doesn't like humanity- you're already hooked.
You turned a blind eye to things, like how he somehow knows where you live, find out about private accounts on social media, knows that you're talking to someone even when there's barely any people around, kind of seeming jealous/overprotective over text. The hardest one to do is when someone insults or steals your art, only to end up severely or lightly wounded somewhere between the next day to the end of the week, saying that a robot version of Slenderman or a metal bird that has an origami themed shape, etc.
There were a few things that caught your attention. How he uses the wrong terminology for things such as units time, parts of the body, even saying organics, fleshies, humans instead of people or others by their names. You were suspicious but brushed it off every time it happens.
At the beginning of Soundwave's his sire growing obsession, Laserbeak didn't even understand what was so great about you. But it changed when he was shot down by Autobots and landed out in the woods, you found him, and repaired him. During his stay, he made friends with Jeremy, and during repairs, you were gentle as you could be when fixing him up, your touched were light, you asked if what you were doing was alright, and he honestly thought of those human films where the mother would help their child when they get an injury. In this situation, he was your the child, and you were his the mother; he understood now.
Knowing Laserbeak's existence was the reason why it was a little hard to turn a blind eye to those that were injured.
When Laserbeak returned, he gave the information to Soundwave, and that's when Soundwave knew that you were the one to complete the family.
When the both of you actually met face-to-face is when you texted him that an ex of yours came back is so persistent on getting back together and won't leave you alone. When it was night, your ex cornered you, and was ranting on and on about how you should be grateful that he's giving you a second chance, even though you were the one to break up with him, only to end up dead on the pavement. You looked up to see Soundwave himself.
The first thought that came to mind didn't revolve around fear. No! It was 'Oh, god, he looks hot-'
So, you were taken aboard the Nemesis, you became a part of the Con Crew. 1.) Because you're close, in a way, to one of the Autobot's human pets; 2.) You hated humans just as much as they did; 3.) It's Soundwave. Megatron trusts him with any decision of his. A reason Soundwave gave, in public? A human to spy on the Autobots- Shut the fuck up random Vehicon, this is a human spy, not Makeshift. This isn't like Starscream's plan.
This happened only a day after Optimus Prime became Orion Pax. Soundwave had a feeling that something might happen, so he had you wear something that will cover up everything, mainly your head/face. He knows the archivist is smart, and if he were to revert back to Optimus, then he would recognize who you are.
Often times, some Vehicons would make comments about a human joining the ranks, or try to get rid of you, and they were met with an electric end.
It was only about a week later, after Orion became Optimus again, when they decided how they were going to get you in their base, and with the help of the newly arrived Dreadwing, they can do just that.
Part 2 coming soon...
So, basically this was a yandere x willing reader. I just hope you're satisfied.
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