#like that.... throw her into the sea with a big wave

[sturnsdarling]

'Stay the fuck away from her'

{based on this ask I left in @sturnioz inbox} fratboy!chris leaves shy!reader alone at a party for the first time and it goes south, quickly.

vibe check: fighting, violence etc, pressure to do drugs, fratboy!chris being a guard dog, fratboy!matt being a lil bruiser (i love him) a TINY bit of fluff bc I cant help myself and I'm a sucker for an asshole (fb!chris) with a soft spot (s!reader)

1.6k words

A/N: based on cas' fratboy!chris au. FUCK I love this. I had this idea after cas' lil blurb about jealous!fbchris and she told me to write it so mother gets what mother wants. another day another slay y'all lets fucking go. PART TWO HERE

love and cigs, merc

The frat house was nearly vibrating with the movement of hundreds of people, all moving, dancing, fucking and taking drugs in every millimetre of the house.

Chris and Matt were off doing their rounds with the freshers, Chris handing out his new stuff to all the sorority girls that pushed themselves against him before palming them off to Matt, who was just as uninterested in them but of course, made the moves to make the sale.

Tonight was a big night, it being the first party back after Christmas break so, the boys actually left you by yourself for the first time ever to make their rounds. Of course, Chris had instructed Nate to watch over you, but he was so faded that he could barely look after himself.

You were sat on a smelly couch in a back room, pressed in between two rival frat brothers to Chris' frat, both of them fawning over you as you sat there uncomfortably, shifting in your skin at the sensation of them peppering encouraging touches over you.

"come on, baby, one lil pill wont hurt you" one said, holding a small white pill in front of your face, your eyes nearly crossing as you stared at it.

"yeah, it'll be fun, and don't worry, we'll look after you" the other said, menacingly smirking at his frat brother

you shook your head, "I'm alright, I don't do drugs like that" you said, trying to crane your head back from them.

"theres a first time for everything, baby" one of the boys said, pressing his thumb into your chin, attempting to open your mouth as his friend moved the pill closer to your lips.

Nate was sat on the other side of the room, two girls draped over his lap as he sucked on one of their necks, palming the other ones ass.

"oh fuck" he said as he looked over to you, pressed between two frat boys as they waved a pill in front of your face.

He pushed the girls off him and they whined in a huff. He lifted his lips and pulled his phone from his pocket, opening it and calling Chris.

"Chris, dude, theres some guys here n'there all over your girl, touchin' her n'shit, one of them has a pill and kid is basically forcing it in her mouth" he said down the phone.

Chris didn't reply, only hung up the phone with a tsk sound and summoned Matt to follow him.

Within seconds, Chris was in the room, searching around the sea of bodies for you. He met Nates eyes first, who was once again sandwiched between two blondes. Nate pointed over to the other side of the room to you. The sight made Chris' blood boil, a villainous smile etched across his face, shaking his head and pressing his tongue to the side of his mouth as the thought of what he was gonna do to that kid raced through his mind. You were desperately trying to free yourself from the trap the boys had laid for you, squirming as they touched you and edged a pill closer and closer to your lips.

Chris stormed over, taking a long drag of his joint before tossing it to the floor. Just as quick as he arrived at the sofa, his hands were wrapped around one of the boys shirts, pulling him off the sofa and throwing him on the floor. Everyone gasped, moving out the way and gawking at the sight of Chris coming to stand over him.

"dude what th-" the guys questioning was cut off by Chris coming down on him and clocking him round the jaw with a swift punch.

"Chris!" You shouted, jumping off the sofa and grabbing his shoulders.

He shoved you off him and turned back to the kid underneath him, swinging down once more and cracking his jaw off his knuckles.

"y'think you're hard 'cuz you pressure girls into taking your shit pills? huh, kid? y'think you're a fuckin' gangsta?" Chris screamed as he laid into him.

The guy was borderline unconscious as you screamed Chris' name over and over again. Matt came up behind you, grabbing you by the shoulders, "go stand with Nate" Matt said, pushing you in Nates direction.

You nearly fell forward as you stumbled over to Nate, unable to tear your eyes of Chris as he continued to hit the boy beneath him, never letting up despite the boys pleads.

"yo, get the fuck off him" His frat brother shouted, coming to grab Chris by the shoulders. His movements quickly cut off by Matt, pulling him backwards and shoving him back to the sofa.

"watch ya hands, tough guy" Matt chuckled, grabbing the guy by the scruff of his shirt and nutting him, cracking his nose off his forehead. The guy recoiled, blood pouring from his nose instantly as his hands flew to his face.

Matt pushed him back as he stumbled, meeting him on the floor with a brutal clock across his jaw.

Chris got up off the guy and pulled him up with him, holding his bloodied and swollen face inches from his, "think you're a fuckin' big dog, yeah?" He turned and threw the nearly limp guy on the sofa.

The boy shook his head frantically, holding his hands up as Chris stood over him. "no, no, I don't, I don't, I didn't know she was your girl dude, m'sorry" He stuttered.

"well, now you do, so stay the fuck away from her, yeah?" he spat, moving as if he was going to hit him again.

The boy flinched and whimpered, running away, leaving his frat brother to fend for himself as Matt continued to pummel into him. He was relentless, near enough laughing as the boy lost consciousness underneath him.

"you wanna force girls into doing shit? you wanna be a tough guy n'drug girls jus' so they'll fuck you?" Matt said, pulling the guy up off the ground by his shirt, "hows it feel bein' a fuckin' loser, huh? tell me kid, hows it feel?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" the guy cried and Matt just laughed in his face.

Chris panted as he watched the guy he near enough battered run away. He turned round to Matt, placing a hand on his shoulder and tapping him.

"s'enough, Matt, y'gonna kill him" he said, pulling Matt off the bloodied and battered boy on the floor.

Chris eyes immediately searched for you, finding you tucked into Nate, scared shitless of what you had just witnessed. He walked over to you, everyone in the room still staring at him as he did.

When he reached you, he grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you round to face him, taking your face into his bloodied hands.

"did they give you anything? huh? did they do anything t'you?" His eyes searched your face for any signs of drugs or bruises.

"no" you shook your head, brows furrowed as tears welled in your eyes.

Chris sighed and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. It was weird, Chris never hugged you like this, but as if on instinct you sunk into him, wrapping your hands around his waist.

"m'so sorry I left you alone, y'not leaving my side ever again, okay?" he muttered into your hair.

You nodded into his chest, whimpering slightly at the sensation of Chris breaking the hug.

"and you-" Chris spat, pushing Nate by the shoulders, "y'were s'possed to look after, her not let sketty fuckin' sorority girls distract you, fuckin' idiot" Chris said, insulting the girls as if they weren't right there.

"chill man, it all turned out peachy" Nate chuckled, stepping backwards with his hands up in surrender.

"get the fuck out my face, dude, can't even look at you" Chris spat, turning back to face you, taking your face in his hand once more.

"y'sure you're okay, kid?" he asked, soft eyes baring into yours.

you nodded, leaning into his gentle touch, the smell of iron lingering on his hand as it caressed your face.

"you didn't need to go that hard, Chris, you could have gotten hurt" you said, bringing a soft hand up to wrap around his wrist.

Chris chuckled, soothing a thumb over your face and raising his brows. "does it look like that kid could'a hurt me?" he asked, a prideful grin spread across his face.

You returned his smile and shook your head, gripping his wrist tighter.

"besides, you're important t'me, or whatever, so, I wasn't gonna let that fuckin' loser be all over you like that"

"I'm important to you?" you cheesed

"yeah, whatever, kid, try not to pull a muscle from cheesin' so hard" he rolled his eyes with a smirk.

"thankyou, for protecting me, Chris" you said, tugging at his wrist slightly.

"always" he said simply, before pulling you into a soft and quick kiss, his mouth slotting perfectly over yours, the taste of weed and shit beer lingering on his breath.

You chased the taste, whimpering slightly as he pulled away and dropped his hand from your face. You were smiling from ear to ear as he shifted his weight between his feet.

"wipe that smile off ya face, kid, s'not happenin' again" Chris said, referring to the kiss as he wiped a wet spot off your lip with his thumb.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[julietsf1]

Push & Pull - Franco Colapinto x Reader

summary: Y/N has always kept Franco at a distance, teasing and confident that he’d never give up on her. But when he suddenly pulls away, she can’t stop thinking about him, realizing she might care more than she’s let on. Could it be that he’s been waiting for her to figure it out all along? (6k words)

Warnings: None

AN: Another one for all you hotties! If any Argentinians read this pls recommend me some things to do in Buenos Aires!! I'm visiting next month ^-^ ciao

__________________________________________

The sun hung high over the paddock, its warmth beating down on the sea of activity buzzing between the garages. I walked beside Lando, who is both my best friend in the entire world but also my worst nightmare as his PR rep. I adored him, though. Lando, as usual, was in the middle of an overly dramatic retelling of his latest training session.

But today, I wasn’t paying much attention. My focus kept drifting—not so subtly—toward someone else entirely.

“You know,” Lando said, waving his hand, helmet tucked under his arm, ���if you’re hoping for another one of Franco’s smirks, maybe just walk up and wave a banner next time. Save us both the suspense. I mean, you’ve already pulled the ‘hot dress’ stunt last week.”

I flicked my eyes to the right. There he was, standing outside the Williams home, laughing with one of his engineers, completely oblivious to my presence. Green eyes and a beaming smile that could undo me with a single glance.

Lando snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Hello? Are you even listening?”

“Huh? Yeah, something about banners or your genius or something,” I muttered, my gaze still lingering on Franco.

Lando shook his head, grinning. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Lando smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, you’ve been sneaking looks the Williams motorhome since we left the garage. Just admit it. You are definitly not staring at James Vowels over there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed, adjusting my sunglasses with forced nonchalance. “I’m just people-watching.”

“Right,” Lando said with a deadpan expression, “because there’s nothing more captivating than Franco ‘green eyes and a fluffy hair’ Colapinto.”

My lips quirked up despite myself, but before I could respond, a familiar voice cut through the paddock noise.

“Y/N! Looking for me?”

Franco’s voice carried over the chatter, as smooth and confident as ever. He strolled up with his usual big smile, and despite my best efforts, I felt my pulse quicken.

“Looking for you?” I raised an eyebrow, keeping my tone cool. “Why would I be looking for you?”

Franco grinned, leaning in just enough to make my heart skip. “Because you always do. Can’t resist me.”

Lando snorted loudly, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes at both of them. “Pretty sure I’m here for work, Franco,” I said dryly, crossing my arms. “Not to boost your ego.”

“Work?” Franco chuckled, throwing a quick glance at Lando. “Well, if that’s what it takes to finally get some one-on-one time with you, I could use a good publicist.”

I narrowed my eyes playfully. “You mean someone to clean up all the damage you do in your interviews?”

“Something like that maybe,” Franco replied, his grin widening. He leaned in slightly more, his voice lowering a bit. “But if you’re up for it, I bet we could give them something that'll really make headlines, hermosa.”

My heart skipped—he had a way of doing that. Always flirting, always smooth. I could feel Lando’s eyes practically burning holes into the side of my head, waiting for my reaction.

“Bye, Colapinto,” I teased back, tilting my head slightly. “We’re on our way to Alex. Don’t you have to focus on your practice session or something?”

Lando let out a soft, exaggerated “Ouch!” behind me.

"Point taken," Franco chuckled softly. "But don’t worry, hermosa, I’m always around when you need me."

I raised an eyebrow, holding his gaze for a moment longer before shrugging. “Of course you are.”

And just like that, I turned away, flashing a brief, teasing smile before walking straight toward Alex, who was conveniently nearby. I could practically feel Franco’s eyes on me, the way his playful mood shifted just slightly at the sight of me talking to his teammate instead of him.

Lando fell in step beside me, clearly enjoying every second of the interaction. “Wow. Just… wow. You’ve got the poor guy on the ropes, and you’re still playing it cool.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my tone casual but a little too pleased with myself.

“Oh, come on,” Lando scoffed. “He is looking at you the way I look at capri suns while you barely even looked at him when he flirted with you. And now you’re talking to Alex? Cold-blooded.”

I shot him a side glance. “I came here to arrange a damage control golf session for you, Lando. I’m not playing any games.”

“Yeah sure,” Lando said, raising an eyebrow. “You have Alex’s number; you could just text about that. I think you needed your daily dose of Franco this morning.”

I just smiled and waved it off. “It’s just a small bonus.”

“You know, you keep this up, and Franco might actually grow a spine and stop chasing you. Then what?”

“Then I’ll cross that bridge when I get there,” I replied smoothly.

Lando shook his head, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “I’m just saying, even for me, it’s confusing whether you actually want him or not. Can’t imagine what is going on in his head.”

I glanced back over my shoulder at Franco, who was now back with his engineer, though his eyes lingered in my direction for just a second too long. I turned back to Lando, my smirk still firmly in place.

..

The post-qualifying buzz was winding down, but I was just getting started. There was just something undeniably fun about watching Franco get wound up, especially when I knew exactly how to push his buttons. He hadn’t taken his eyes off me since our earlier exchange, and that gave me all the more reason to turn up the heat.

Oscar was standing near the garage, chatting with a couple of engineers, looking completely unbothered by anything that wasn’t race-related. The perfect opportunity.

With a casual smile, I sauntered over, making sure every move was within Franco’s line of sight. I could feel his gaze burning into me, that sharp, undeniable tension building the closer I got to Oscar.

“Hey, Oscar!” I called, stepping up beside him, all friendly charm and bright smiles. “Great qualifying today. P3, right?”

Oscar chuckled, completely unaware of the storm brewing a few garages down. “Yeah, just behind Lando. He hasn’t stopped reminding me.” He rolled his eyes. “But I’ll get him back tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” I said, leaning in just enough to make it look a little too friendly. “But you did great out there. Don’t let Lando’s big mouth get to you.”

Oscar smiled, clearly pleased by the compliment. “Thanks, Y/N. Means a lot.”

I could feel Franco’s attention prickling at the back of my neck, like a live wire sparking just out of sight. He wasn’t making a scene—yet—but I knew him well enough to know that the longer I kept this up, the more he’d unravel.

Oscar, bless him, remained blissfully unaware as I laughed at something he said, placing a hand lightly on his arm. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even notice the deliberate touch, but I knew Franco did. I didn’t need to look over to know that his jaw was probably clenched, his hands likely fisted at his sides, trying and failing to keep his cool.

“Really, Y/N?” Lando’s voice broke through, his tone dripping with amusement as he strolled up beside me. “Oscar? That’s your move?”

I blinked innocently at him. “What? We’re just having a nice chat.”

Lando shot me a knowing look. “Talk to him, sure. But, come on, this is hardly subtle.”

Oscar frowned, clearly confused. “Wait, what am I missing?”

Lando smirked, crossing his arms as he glanced toward Franco’s garage. “Only the fact that you’re a pawn in Y/N’s little game. Poor Franco looks like he’s about to storm over here any second now.”

Oscar blinked. “Franco? Why would—” He glanced in Franco’s direction, then back at me, the realization slowly dawning. “Oh. I see.”

I shrugged, still smiling. “Lando’s being dramatic, as usual.”

Lando snorted. “Am I? Because if looks could kill, Franco would’ve turned you both into toast about five minutes ago.”

Oscar looked between us, still processing what was happening. “You are not setting me up for some weird beef with Franco, right?”

I patted Oscar’s arm. “Don’t worry about it. You’re just an innocent bystander.”

Oscar, ever the polite one, chuckled awkwardly. “Uh, right. Well, I should probably get going. See you guys later.”

As soon as Oscar made his hasty retreat, Lando turned to me, a wicked grin on his face. “You are cruel. I mean, Franco’s been flirting with you for weeks, and now you’re just… torturing the poor guy.”

“I’m not torturing him,” I replied, though my smile betrayed my amusement. “He’s fine.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You sure about that? He’s got the look of someone who just found out his favorite show’s been canceled.”

I shot a glance toward Franco, and sure enough, he was standing just a little too still, his jaw clenched as he glared in our direction. A thrill shot through me—he was unraveling, just like I knew he would.

“He’ll get over it,” I said, my tone light but full of mischief.

Lando sighed, leaning in with a grin. “Keep this up and Franco’s going to start writing poetry. You might want to give him a break before it gets tragic.”

My smirk grew, but there was a flicker of something else beneath it��a thrill, yes, but also a dangerous kind of enjoyment. I liked knowing I had this power over him, but at the same time, I wondered just how far I could push him before he finally snapped.

“You know, one of these days, it’s gonna get messy,” Lando teased, clearly enjoying the drama. “And when it does, I hope you’re ready.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t stop the tiny pang of anticipation that flared up at Lando’s words. “I’ll be fine.”

“Famous last words,” Lando quipped, casting another glance at Franco. “Seriously though, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this wound up. You’re going to need more than a PR damage control strategy when this all blows up.”

I stole one last look at Franco, who was now pretending to be engrossed in a conversation with his engineer, though his eyes kept darting over to me. The tension between us was palpable, and for a second, I felt the heat of it settle in my chest.

“It will be fine, Lando! Stop stressing so much,” I said confidently, though his warning echoed in the back of my mind.

Lando just laughed. “If you say so. But I’m getting front-row seats when it happens.”

..

The hotel lobby was dimly lit, casting a warm glow over the elegant space. I strolled in, mentally exhausted from a day of media meetings, ready to unwind. The plush chairs and quiet ambiance promised me some much-needed relaxation.

But of course, things never went as planned when Franco was around.

I spotted him instantly, leaning casually against the reception desk, chatting with a hotel staff member. The way his eyes lit up when they landed on me was unmistakable—like I was exactly what he had been waiting for.

“Y/N,” Franco called out, his voice smooth and rich as he broke into a wide grin. He abandoned the conversation with the staff member and headed straight for me, the playful glint in his eyes making my stomach flip. “Fancy running into you here.”

“Franco,” I greeted, letting my lips curve into a small smile. “You really do seem to be everywhere these days.”

“Can you really blame me?” Franco said with a playful grin, moving closer, his presence radiating that effortless charm that always set my pulse racing, his eyes trailing up and down, taking me in. “I tend to gravitate toward the best things in life.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming,” Franco corrected with a wink. “Have you eaten yet?”

The question hung in the air for a beat, and I could see the flicker of hope in his eyes. He was practically handing me the opportunity to push him a bit again.

“No, no dinner,” I answered slowly, watching as his grin widened.

“Perfect,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “What do you say we fix that? There’s this incredible little spot nearby—quiet, cozy, great steak. I could use the company.” He paused, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping a little. “Especially your company.”

I raised an eyebrow, biting back the urge to laugh at how effortlessly flirty he always was. He was good, I had to admit that. But I wasn’t about to make it that easy for him. Where’s the fun in that?

“Oh?” I said, feigning interest, though I knew exactly how I’d respond. “That sounds tempting.”

Franco’s grin grew, and he took another step closer, his hand resting on the back of a chair near us, bringing him even more into my personal space. “Most definitely. You, me, good food, and a quiet night… what’s not to like?”

I tilted my head, letting my gaze linger on him for a moment before replying. “Mmm, I don’t know, Franco. It’s been a long day. I might just head to bed.”

Franco’s expression faltered, but only for a second. He recovered quickly, his smirk never quite leaving. “We’ll keep it simple. No grand gestures, no expectations—just good food and a little company.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “I promise I’ll behave.”

I laughed softly, the sound teasing. “You? Behave? I find that hard to believe.”

Franco’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I can be on my best behavior... if the moment calls for it.”

I gave him a slow, appraising look, letting the tension build between us. I could see the way his eyes darkened, the slight shift in his posture as he waited for my answer.

“Well,” I drawled, my voice teasing as I leaned back against the wall, “maybe another time.”

Franco’s smile fell slightly. “Another time?”

I nodded, the corners of my lips curling up as I played with him. “Yeah. I mean, you make a good offer, Franco. But I’ve got an early morning tomorrow, and I need my beauty sleep.”

Franco tried to keep his cool, but I could see the flash of disappointment in his eyes.

“Beauty sleep?” he asked, his voice still carrying that flirty tone, though it was softer now. “You don’t need any of that.”

I smirked, letting my gaze flick up and down him for a brief moment. “Loving the flattery, though.”

“So, dinner tomorrow maybe?” he asked again, hopeful.

My smile turned more teasing as I gently patted his arm. “Another time.”

Franco’s smirk faltered, and he ran a hand through his hair, his confidence slipping just slightly. “You’re killing me, Y/N.”

“Not yet,” I replied, my tone light but filled with playful challenge.

Franco chuckled, though it was clear he was a little defeated. “Fine. But you owe me one.”

“Do I?” I teased, tilting my head playfully. “Goodnight, Franco.”

He watched me go, standing there in the lobby, a little defeated but still holding onto that spark of hope I’d dangled in front of him. I didn’t look back, but I could feel his eyes on me the entire way to the elevator.

As I rode up to my room, the thrill of our back-and-forth lingered. Seeing him lose his mind over me was fun—really fun—but there was something about tonight that felt different. Hurt eyes that lingered just a bit too long. Maybe I was taking it too far.

..

The next day had been a whirlwind of post-qualifying interviews and pre-race prep, but none of it could distract me from the change in Franco’s behavior. After last night’s playful banter at the hotel, I expected him to keep up the chase. But today, something was different.

No looks, no comments, nothing.

And worst of all? He was very publicly flirting with someone else. Right in the middle of the paddock.

And not just anyone—a stunning blonde journalist with a smile too bright and a laugh that seemed to come far too easily. It wasn’t the harmless banter I was used to seeing from him. No, this was something different. He was invested, leaning in close, saying something that made the blonde practically cling to his every word.

Irritation flared in me, but I did my best to mask it.

“You’re being weird,” Lando remarked, raising his eyebrows as he caught me staring across the road of the McLaren motorhome. “Did you swallow a lemon or something?”

“I’m not being weird,” I snapped, a little too quickly, my eyes still fixed on Franco as he threw his head back, laughing at something the journalist said. “He’s… being weird.”

Lando followed my gaze, and a slow grin spread across his face. “Ah, I see. You’re not used to this, are you?”

“Used to what?” I tried to play it cool but was failing miserably.

Lando laughed. “Used to him not obsessing over your every move.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please, I really do not care.”

“I called it.” Lando smirked, leaning against the wall, clearly enjoying himself. “Looks like Franco’s finally had enough of your games.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. Sick of chasing after me? That couldn’t be it. Franco had always flirted with me, always seemed like he enjoyed our interactions as much as I did. And now? Now he was acting like I didn’t exist. Not even a glance in my direction.

I crossed my arms, trying to maintain an air of indifference, but Lando could see right through it. “He cannot be sick of me.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, darling, but it looks like he’s pretty content chatting up Blondie over there.”

I gritted my teeth. “He’s just being polite.”

“Uh-huh,” Lando said, the grin never leaving his face. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

I stole another glance toward Franco, who was now laughing again at something else the blonde said, his hand resting on the bar beside her. The ease of it, the fact that he wasn’t sparing me even a glance, gnawed at me.

Lando chuckled. “Wow. Easy there, tiger. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

“Like what?” I snapped, my frustration bubbling to the surface.

“So worked up and jealous,” Lando said with a shrug. “He’s just having a good chat with the sexy Spanish lady, and you’re over here, practically steaming.”

“I’m not jealous,” I bit out, my voice sharper than I intended.

Lando raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just calling it like I see it. I haven’t seen you this stressed since I my DM’s leaked last year. If you really care, you might want to do something about this before he completely forgets about you.”

My pulse quickened. Leave it to Lando to offer up some brutal honesty. The idea of Franco actually moving on, of him getting over me, didn’t sit right. Not at all. I had enjoyed the back-and-forth with him, the flirting, the tension. But this? No. This was not good.

“And then there’s the padel match yesterday evening,” Lando added, casually tossing out the words like a grenade.

I blinked, confused. “The what now?”

“Franco,” Lando explained, smiling a bit awkwardly now. “He went on a padel date with that journalist yesterday. It’s all over the paddock.”

My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to keep my expression neutral. “So what? He can play padel with whoever he wants.”

Lando’s grin widened. “Right. Because you’re totally not bothered by the fact that he’s off playing padel and flirting with someone else.”

“I’m most certainly not,” I shot back, my voice sharper than intended.

Lando laughed, leaning in closer as if he’d just discovered the punchline to his favorite joke. “Oh, you so are. It’s written all over your face.”

I clenched my jaw, glaring at him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, sweetie,” Lando said, clearly not buying it. “What is it that they say? You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone or something.”

My eyes flicked back to Franco, and I felt that familiar twinge of irritation. He still hadn’t looked my way. Normally, by now, he’d have come over with one of his cheeky comments, trying to make me smile. But now? He was completely engrossed in his conversation with the journalist, as if I didn’t exist.

“He’s just trying to make me jealous,” I muttered, more to myself than to Lando.

Lando snickered. “I don’t know, Y/N, maybe he’s already over you.”

The comment hit me, and for a moment, my usual confidence wavered. I felt the sting of it—not as a challenge, but as something that didn’t sit right in my chest. Franco moving on? That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Yeah, okay,” I muttered, more to myself than to Lando, my voice not as steady as I would’ve liked. I tried to brush it off, but it still lingered.

Lando noticed the shift in my tone, his smirk softening slightly. “Whoa, I was just messing around. I didn’t mean to—”

I forced a small smile, waving him off. “It’s fine. I just… wasn’t expecting that, I guess.” I paused, then shrugged. “Anyway, whatever. He’ll come around. Maybe.”

Lando looked like he was about to say something else, but I was already walking off, my thoughts swirling with what-ifs. I wasn’t sure why it bothered me so much, but I wasn’t about to dwell on it—not yet.

But the unease lingered.

..

The day hadn’t gone as expected. Franco spent the entire afternoon being... different. Detached, even. Chatting up what felt like all the girls in the paddock, from catering staff to marshals. Especially that blonde journalist. The thought made my stomach twist in a way I wasn’t used to.

I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I needed to talk about this, and who better than the girls?

As I walked into the small café where I was meeting up with Kika and Alexandra, I took a deep breath. The quiet buzz of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, but my mind was far from grounded.

Kika spotted me first, waving me over with a wide grin. “There she is! Come sit, we were just talking about you.”

I slid into the booth, trying to force a smile. “All good things, I hope?”

Alexandra gave me a soft, knowing look, but Kika, ever the lively one, was quick to dive in. “Of course! But you look stressed. Spill.”

I sighed, glancing between the two of them. “It’s... Franco.”

Kika’s eyes lit up immediately, like she’d just been handed a fresh piece of juicy gossip. “Ah, your fanboy. What did he do now?”

“It’s not what he did exactly,” I said, picking at the edge of the menu absentmindedly. “It’s more what he didn’t do.”

Alexandra leaned in slightly, her voice calm and curious. “What do you mean?”

I let out a frustrated breath. “He’s been different. Ever since last night. He asked me to dinner, I played with him a little—kept things flirty, but didn’t say yes. And now, today, he’s... ignoring me. He spent all day flirting with that blonde journalist.”

Kika raised an eyebrow, sitting back with a smirk. “So, you’re saying you miss the attention?”

“No!” I replied quickly, but the doubt in my voice betrayed me. “It’s not that. It’s just... I don’t get why he suddenly doesn’t care. He’s been chasing me for weeks.”

Alexandra gave a small smile, her eyes gentle. “Maybe he’s tired of the chase.”

I frowned, not liking the sound of that at all. “Tired of the chase?”

“Yeah,” Kika chimed in, her tone playful but pointed. “Maybe the poor guy finally got sick of working so hard. He’s been trying and trying, but you’ve been making him run in circles.”

I crossed my arms, feeling more defensive than I liked. “He knew what this was. It’s just... fun.”

Kika snorted. “Fun for who? Hard to get gets exhausting after a while, sweetie.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but Alexandra spoke first, her voice soft but firm. “Y/N, maybe it’s more than just a game to him. And from what I’m hearing, maybe it’s more to you too, but you’re not ready to admit that.”

I hesitated, the words striking closer to home than I wanted to admit. I’d always enjoyed the back-and-forth with Franco, the way he chased me, how easy it was to keep him on edge. But today? Today felt different. Seeing him flirt with someone else... it bothered me more than it should.

“You think I actually like him?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual but failing miserably.

Kika grinned, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, sweetie, you don’t just like him. You’re jealous.”

I scowled, pushing my hair back as if the action would help me regain some control. “I’m not jealous.”

“Uh-huh,” Kika teased, leaning forward. “That’s why you’ve been stewing all day.”

Alexandra, ever the caring one, placed a gentle hand on my arm. “It’s okay to admit it. Sometimes, these things sneak up on you.”

I looked between the two of them, feeling a mix of frustration and confusion. Had I really let it get this far? Was I jealous? The idea of Franco actually moving on, actually losing interest in me, made my chest tighten in a way that was entirely unfamiliar.

“What do I do?” I finally asked, my voice quieter now, the bravado gone.

Kika’s eyes sparkled with excitement, leaning in with a mischievous grin. “Alright, here’s the plan: tonight, we’re going out, and you’re going to look amazing. We’ll remind Franco exactly why he’s been chasing you all this time. By the end of the night, he won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

She paused, her grin widening. “Trust me, he’ll forget those other girls even exist.”

Alexandra smiled softly. “Or, you could just talk to him. Tell him how you feel.”

Kika waved that suggestion off. “Yeah, we’ll get to that part eventually. First, we make him sweat a little.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at Kika’s enthusiasm, but Alexandra’s words lingered. Maybe I did need to talk to him. But not yet. Not until I figured out exactly what I wanted to say—and what I wanted from him.

“Alright,” I said, a new determination settling over me. “Let’s go out tonight.”

Kika grinned like she had just won the lottery. “That’s my girl. Franco won’t know what hit him.”

The thought of seeing Franco’s reaction later sent a thrill through me, but there was something else too—something that was still unresolved, simmering just below the surface. For now, though, I was ready to play this game one last time.

..

Later that evening, the city was alive with music and lights, and I found myself standing in front of a mirror, adjusting the dress Kika had practically forced me into. It was sleek, eye-catching, and made me feel like I owned the night. I had to admit—Kika’s plan to make an impression was already working, and we hadn’t even left the hotel yet.

Kika and Alexandra stood behind me, both beaming with approval.

“Perfect,” Kika declared, crossing her arms with satisfaction. “Franco won’t know what hit him.”

Alexandra smiled softly, leaning against the wall. “You do look stunning, Y/N. But remember—don’t do this just for him. Do it because you feel good.”

I met her eyes in the mirror and gave a small nod. “Yeah, I know.” But there was no denying it—tonight, I wanted Franco to see exactly what he’d been missing. The uncertainty of the day still gnawed at me, but if nothing else, I would remind him who had the upper hand.

“Alright, ladies, let’s go,” Kika said with a dramatic flourish. “The night awaits, and so does your boy.”

I rolled my eyes at the nickname, but I couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto my face. Maybe tonight was exactly what I needed—a chance to reset and reclaim my confidence.

The club was packed, the music pulsing through the air as we stepped inside. Neon lights flashed over the crowd, and the atmosphere buzzed with energy. My heart beat in time with the rhythm, a sense of anticipation building.

It didn’t take long for me to spot Franco.

He was standing by the bar, drink in hand, surrounded by a few friends. And, of course, the blonde journalist was there too, her laughter ringing out a little too loud, her hand lingering a little too long on Franco’s arm. But she wasn’t the issue. The only one who mattered was Franco.

Kika nudged me, leaning in to whisper. “Time to work your magic.”

I smirked but kept my focus forward as we passed by the bar, brushing deliberately close to Franco. I didn’t turn to look at him—just a quick glance from the corner of my eye—but I knew he saw me.

Yet, he didn’t move. Didn’t even shift in my direction.

We ordered drinks right next to him, deliberately positioning ourselves in eyesight of Franco. I let my fingers trail across my glass, playing with the straw, while Kika and Alexandra chatted away. The music thumped around us, and the atmosphere was thick with excitement. But still, no reaction from Franco.

Finally, I allowed myself a glance over—just a flick of my eyes—but he was still talking to his group, completely ignoring me. He seemed annoyingly relaxed, easygoing, but he wasn’t focusing on anyone in particular, not even the blonde in front of him. That was a small relief, but his lack of attention toward me stung more than I’d expected.

My stomach tightened with frustration, but I wasn’t about to give up just yet. With a subtle nod to Kika and Alexandra, we moved to the dance floor. If he wasn’t going to come to me, then I’d have to make him notice.

The music vibrated through the club, and I let myself get lost in it, dancing with my friends, feeling the beat in my bones. I moved with confidence, my body swaying to the rhythm, knowing Franco had to be watching. But every now and then, when I glanced back, he was still at the bar—no smirk, no playful look, just the occasional unreadable glance in my direction.

Minutes passed, and my frustration grew. Franco didn’t bat an eye, wasn’t chasing me like he usually did. My attempts to get his attention were falling flat, and the game I’d been so sure of was slipping away.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I muttered to Kika, feeling a flicker of defeat rise in my chest.

Kika gave me a sympathetic look. “Take a breather. He’ll come around.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure I believed it. I made my way through the crowd, the thumping bass and flashing lights pressing in on me. The night wasn’t supposed to go like this. It felt like Franco was slipping out of my grasp, and the sting of that realization made my chest tighten.

As I reached the hallway leading to the bathroom, my mind raced. Had I pushed him too far? Was this it?

Just as I reached for the door, a hand wrapped gently around my wrist, pulling me back. My breath hitched, and I turned to find Franco standing close, his eyes fixed on mine with a steady intensity.

He didn’t look amused. He looked... focused.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice low but full of that teasing edge I was used to.

My heart raced, my frustration still simmering beneath the surface. “I was.”

Franco didn’t let go of my wrist. Instead, he stepped closer, his other hand resting lightly on my waist. His eyes never left mine, and the heat between us was undeniable.

“You’ve been oddly close to me and my friends all night, hermosa,” he said, his voice smooth and confident. “Staring at me through the crowd.”

I blinked, thrown by his words. “What?”

Franco’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “You really think I didn’t notice you? I’ve been watching you since you walked in.”

My pulse quickened, but I kept my tone steady. “You had a funny way of showing it.”

Franco chuckled softly, his hand tightening slightly on my waist. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I was waiting.”

“Waiting?” I repeated, my frustration now mixed with confusion.

Franco nodded, leaning in slightly, his smirk growing. “I knew you cared. All that running around trying to get my attention tonight—it was cute, really.”

My breath caught in my throat as his words sank in. This whole time, he’d been in control. He hadn’t been ignoring me—he’d been making me chase him.

“You—” I started, but Franco cut me off with a laugh.

“I wanted to see you try a little,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement. “I’ve been trying to get you for weeks, Y/N. Figured maybe if I pulled away, you’d realize what you were missing. And, well... it worked, didn’t it?”

My heart raced, my frustration melting into something else, something like relief. “Well, I hope you’re satisfied.”

Franco chuckled softly, his eyes darkening with a mix of amusement and something more. “Hmm... almost.”

Before I could respond, Franco closed the distance between us, his hand sliding from my waist to the small of my back, pulling me against him in one swift, confident movement. His other hand cupped my jaw, thumb grazing my skin as his lips met mine with a slow, teasing pressure. The kiss started soft, almost playful, his lips brushing over mine in deliberate, controlled movements, like he was savoring the moment. Then, without warning, the intensity surged, the kiss deepening as Franco pressed me closer, his lips firm and demanding against mine.

I felt the heat radiating from him, my pulse quickening as my fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, twisting it tightly as I pulled him closer. His hand tightened at my waist, fingers digging in slightly as if grounding us both in the moment. His lips moved with a passionate rhythm, his kisses deeper now, bolder, his breath mixing with mine as he tilted my head just enough to angle our kiss perfectly.

My hands slid from his chest to his shoulders, fingers brushing over the firm muscles beneath his shirt as I pressed myself fully against him. Franco’s grip on my waist shifted slightly, one hand slipping to my hip, guiding me even closer. His kisses grew more urgent, his lips parting to allow just a hint of his breath to escape before he claimed my mouth again, the heat between us spiking as the kiss intensified.

I responded in kind, my heart racing as my hands slid into his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as I pulled him deeper into the kiss. Franco’s fingers curled against my waist, the firm grip of his hands sending shivers through my body as his lips captured mine again.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, Franco’s forehead rested lightly against mine. His thumb gently traced my lower lip, his smirk widening as he held me close, his hands still possessively gripping my waist, as if even now, he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

“Took a while, but we got there,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction.

My pulse was racing, my mind still spinning from the kiss. I opened my mouth to respond but found myself at a loss for words. My heart thudded in my chest, and I felt the heat rising in my cheeks.

“I—” I stammered, flustered but smiling despite myself. “Maybe... maybe I cared more than I let on.”

Franco’s grin widened, his hand sliding gently from my waist to brush a strand of hair away from my face. “See? Not so hard to admit, was it, hermosa?”

I let out a soft, nervous laugh, my eyes dropping briefly before meeting his again. “Guess not.”

Franco leaned in, his lips brushing my forehead with a light, teasing touch. “Told you—you can’t resist me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” I managed, but the blush in my cheeks and the way my voice wavered betrayed my attempt at being unaffected.

Franco’s grin widened as he pulled me even closer, his voice warm and full of teasing affection. “Too late,” he said softly. “But nice try.”

Without missing a beat, he wrapped me tighter in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. After a lingering moment, he loosened his hold just enough to meet my eyes, his teasing smirk fading into something softer, more serious.

“You know I’m not letting you go now, right?” he murmured, his voice dropping with sincerity, his green eyes locking with mine in a way that made my heart skip.

I swallowed, feeling a rush of emotions I wasn’t prepared for. For weeks, I’d been pushing and pulling, testing the limits of our back-and-forth game, but this—this was different. There was no playful banter now, no teasing. Just him, holding me close, looking at me like he had been waiting for this moment all along. It made me question why I ever found joy in keeping my distance from him.

“I think I’d be okay with that,” I whispered, my smile soft and genuine.

[m0chaminx]

Coriolanus Snow | Roses Grow Thorns

*•.¸♡Request: Pls pls pls do a part 2 too the snow x reader fix it was so amazing and I want more of them 🙏🙏🙏🙏‼️‼️🩷

*•.¸♡Prompts: none

*•.¸♡Warnings: Coriolanus, Cori isn't insane (ish), Snow is slight ooc, jealousy, hurt comfort, fluff ending

*•.¸♡Paring: Coriolanus Snow x F!reader

*•.¸♡Summary: Coriolanus learns his favourite flower grows thorns

Or

You confront Coriolanus about his relationship with Lucy Gray

*•.¸♡Words: 2k

Part 1

People danced, swaying with their partners in a circle as you stood on stage, strumming your guitar and singing to the crowd. Lucy had just finished the first half of her set, so you took the stage to fill the silence. Coriolanus sat with Sejanus at a table across the room, large glasses of some sort of liquor. Coriolanus looked up at you and smiled.

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

You call the shots, babe

I just wanna be yours

Your voice trailed off slightly as Lucy raced to Coriolanus and Sejanus, throwing her arm around his shoulder and leaning between them. You shook your head and continued to play, trying to ignore Lucy Gray practically hanging from Coriolanus’s arm.

Jealousy, an unwelcome guest, clawed at the edges of your heart, leaving an ache in your chest. No words had been exchanged, and no actions had passed between you two. It overtook the corners of your mind, urging you to believe that Lucy Gray should sense the unspoken connection threading its way between you and Coriolanus.

Each shared trip to the lake, every stolen moment when Coriolanus chose to spend his fleeting free hours with you — these fragments of time saved in your mind like photos in an old book. Yet, as you observed Lucy Gray standing there, a vision of radiant smiles and hushed confidences exchanged with Coriolanus, a wave of emotion surged. It was as if the world momentarily lost its colour, and the whispers of uncertainty left an indelible mark on your heart.

You clenched your hand, trying to ease the shaking in your hands.

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours

Every night for the past week following that evening, Coriolanus Snow would tap gently on the glass of your window. You would turn your head and he would smile, the same bright smile that made your stomach flip and fill with butterflies. You crept across the wood floors and opened the window, looking down at the blue-eyed boy. “Are you busy?”

You would simply laugh at him. You grabbed your coat and slipped out the window, Coriolanus gripping your waist to help you down properly. He would smile, slip a scarf under the window to close it without locking it and you would slip away unnoticed, descending into the velvety embrace of the night.

In those quiet moments, Coriolanus would slip your hand in his own, his warm hand covering yours as he laced your fingers together. He guided you through the dense labyrinth of woods, you knew these woods better than he did but through the nights as he led you to the lake, you questioned if you ever knew them at all. 

The Mokingjays sang into the night as if calling to the small fireflies to light the way. “I brought matches,” Cori said, looking back at you. He tugged on your hand bringing you closer and you couldn't help but think about Lucy Gray running her hand along his shoulders. “We can light a fire. Maybe catch some fish.” You nodded and Coriolanus smiled.

You reached the lake and Coriolanus set his bag down, quickly gathering everything to start a fire. You walked to the edge of the water, your mind running faster than you could even start to comprehend. “Think we’ll catch anything?” He asked, stopping to look up at you.

You looked back over the water, looking at the fish no bigger than your palm swimming just above the sea floor. You shook your head, keeping your eyes on the moonlight dancing on the waves of the water. “Nothing big enough to eat,” You said. Coriolanus nodded and turned back to the fire.

Once the fire was made you sat on the ground beside him, leaving enough space so your shoulders didn’t touch. You both sat in silence, Coriolanus’s knee bouncing softly. 

The flames danced and flickered, the golden glow flickering in Coriolanus’s blue eyes, you settled onto the ground beside him. You shifted slightly, making sure your shoulders didn't touch. The silence stretched between you, Coriolanus's fingers drumming against a stick he held in nervousness.

Coriolanus's knee bounced softly, mirroring the unsteady rhythm of both your hearts. The mere inches that separated you felt like an unbridgeable chasm, as long and confusing as his thoughts. “Did I do something?” His voice cut through the silence like a knife and you turned towards him, your eyebrows furrowed. “You seem distracted. You’re not talking like you usually do. You’re sitting far away.” You bit your lip and shrugged softly. “What’s wrong?”

“What did I sing tonight?” You turned to face Coriolanus. “Tonight. I sang, I wore the red dress so everyone could see the white rose you gave me. But what did I sing?” Coriolanus stammered. “You don’t spare a second glance at me during our shows, you talk to Sejanus when I do perform and you let Lucy Gray hang off your arm like she was yours.”

He spoke your name softly, trying to shuffle closer but you stood quickly. “Don’t do that Cori,” You pleaded. “I’m gonna go home, I’ll see you later.” You turned on your heel. Making your way back through the woods.

Coriolanus sighed, dropping his head into his hands as you walked from his view.

The next morning you stared at the ceiling, stretched out on your small bed. You twisted a small rose between your fingers, the thrones pricking your skin occasionally. The knock at the window made you jump. You turned your head to look at Coriolanus standing on the other side, smiling ever so slightly. You sighed and set the rose aside before walking to the window and pulling it open. “Corio-”

“Don’t talk,” he said quickly. “Don’t say anything, just follow me.” 

“Cori-”

“What did I just say?”

A frustrated huff escaped you as you forcefully closed the window, shutting out the annoying sounds of crickets. Pulling the blinds closed with a swift motion covering Coriolanus’s face, but you caught his smile dropping. You donned your jacket and stepped out the front door, stopping in front of Coriolanus just as you turned the corner. He extended his hand, a warm smile playing on his lips. Suppressing the annoyance that still simmered beneath the surface, you offered a muted response, "Just lead the way," your words carrying a hint of resignation.

Coriolanus nodded and started to lead you through the woods, the sun still yet to rise properly. “You sang I Wanna Be Yours,” Coriolanus muttered. “No, I didn't ask Lucy Gray. You wrote it after you met your old girlfriend but you haven't sung it since. That’s why it was so important to you. And why you wanted me to remember it.”

You hummed and tried to hide your smile. “So you were paying attention.”

Coriolanus spoke, low and earnest, his gaze fixed on you. "I always pay attention," he assured, a sincerity etched into his words. The weight of his gaze, coupled with the firmness in his tone, sought to reassure you. "And nothing is happening between Lucy Gray and me. She was helping me with something," he explained, his words carrying the weight of truth and an unspoken plea for understanding.

“Which is?”

Coryo smiled, “Keep following me.”

You followed Coriolanus, walking in silence until the sun rose completely. He stopped at a rock wall, a small dirt trail winding around it. He reached out, slipping his hand into yours and leading you down the track. “Roses don’t grow in 12, the ground is too hard,” Coriolanus started. “Lucy Gray told me just beyond the rock wall there is ground soft enough to grow flowers. Sejanus used his father's money to get some seed and…” Coriolanus stepped aside as you reached the bottom of the track.

You smiled, Coriolanus’s hand slipping from yours as you stepped further into the growing rose field. Dozens of rose bushes had started to grow, small red and white flowers sporting. Small raindrops covered the flowers, the sun reflecting off of them like diamonds. You crouched, smiling as you ran your hand along the rose petals. 

A soft smile played on your lips, and Coriolanus's hand tenderly released yours as you ventured deeper into the growing rose field. Rows of rose bushes, adorned with tiny red and white blossoms, unfold before you, blossoming like a garden from the Capitol. Small raindrops adorned the delicate petals, capturing the sunlight in a dance that shined like diamonds. Your heart swelled. You glanced back at Coriolanus who shared the same smile.

You carefully crouched down, your smile growing as you traced the velvet texture of the rose petals with your fingertips, each delicate touch slow and careful as if the rose would fall apart. Coriolanus smiled as he watched you, his stomach filling with butterflies as he waited for you to speak. 

"Wait..." The urgency in your voice sliced through the air as you stood, swiftly pivoting to face Coriolanus. His smile disappeared, replaced by a stark seriousness mirrored in your eyes. Your heart fell to your stomach as your voice shook, "You said Sejanus got the seeds from his father. If the Peacemakers find out, they'll take you away." The gravity of your words hung heavily in the charged atmosphere. “Cori, they’ll take you to the hanging tree-”

“They won’t,” Coriolanus said quickly. He stepped forward holding your face in his hands, his thumb tracing the lines of your cheekbones. “No one is going to take me away. No one is taking you. Or Sejanus, or Lucy Gray.” You raised your hand, settling it on top of his. “This place is ours, yours and mine. No one is going to take that.”

Yours and mine.

You smiled, laughing softly as you looked up at Coriolanus, his blue eyes meeting yours. “You got me roses?” You asked.

“You said you liked the Capitol flowers more,” Coriolanus remembered. “I can’t exactly take you to the Capitol, so I thought I’d bring the best part of the Capitol here.”

“Besides yourself.”

A warm smile graced his features as he leaned in, closing the distance until his forehead gently met yours. "Do people in the Capitol kiss differently than the districts?" His inquiry, spoken in a hushed tone, carried a hint of curiosity and a touch of playfulness.

“I think…” you leaned up slightly, bumping your nose against his, “you should find out.”

The brush of his fingertips against your jawline, tracing a delicate path along your skin, igniting a shiver that danced down your spine. As he cradled your face, your breath hitched in anticipation, your eyes staring at his chapped pink lips. Drawing you closer, the final shared breath seemed to linger, suspended in the charged atmosphere, before he sealed the connection with a kiss that felt like a spark that lit a fire. Your heart echoed the rhythm of the thousands of times you had dreamed of this moment and your hands instinctively wound around the back of his neck, the embrace pulling him closer.

Your stomach twirled, filling with butterflies as one of Coryo’s hands moved to wrap around your waist and pull you impossibly closer. He pulled away, his breath coming out in small pants, your breath in sync with his. You opened your eyes, looking up at his half-closed eyes tracing over every part of your face. “I love you, Coriolanus Snow.”

He whispered it back.

ﾟ°☆Page navigation

[thewritingrowlet]

The Loving Wife, ft. Red Velvet Irene

tags: creampie, anal (I think it counts), throatfuck, cum-in-mouth, daddy kink

word count: ~3k

author's note: surprise, mothertruckers

You lean back in your big chair as exhaustion finally settles on your mind and body. You look through the tall glass behind you, “oh, it’s dark already—what time is it?”. You flip your phone on its back and tap the screen twice. “Oh, it’s almost 10”, you murmur, “Irene will kill me”. Irene? The smiling woman on your lock screen? Are you sure?

You’re not sure, but you’re not in the mood to fuck around and find out—not after spending the whole day away from her, making her go through her day by herself. “I’m coming, love; please wait a moment”, you say to your phone, the picture a representation of her being.

It’s nothing but a moment for you, as you find yourself stuck in the sea of cars. “Where are these fools going?”, you wonder. Well, “these fools” are trying to get to their safe havens, just like you are. “These fools” are trying to unwind after working their asses off to provide for them and theirs, just like you are. “These fools” are trying to go to the harbor where their hearts are anchored, just like you are. You chuckle as you think about it, “I guess we’re more alike than we know”.

-

A wave of joy washes over you when you see the black Genesis sedan parked in front of your house. You resist the urge to just stop the car right here as the acute avidness to see your cherished wife is mighty. You park your car in the driveway next to her car and jump out right away.

“I’m home”, you say softly as you turn the handle of your front door. That is correct: you are indeed home. This is the safe haven that you’ve worked hard for and saved up for so that you and your wife have somewhere to unwind after spending long days at work—this is the harbor where your heart is anchored.

You see a lady draped in white run towards you, and another wave of joy washes over you. “My love” is all the greetings you can come up with, as the sight of her takes your breaths away, no matter how frequent you see it. Irene wraps her arms around your frame, fighting your cold with her warmth. There are plenty of sounds you find to be enjoyable, but your lady’s sob is not one of them. “Where have you been? I was so worried about you, honey”, she asks tearily. You put your lips on her forehead to soothe her, “I’m so sorry, my love; I was neck deep in work that I lost track of time”.

You know that you can’t offer comfort when standing up, so you lift her up by her thighs and take her to sit on the sofa. You pet her softly in the back of the head as she sobs to her heart’s content. She finally falls silent after a few minutes and hums softly in rhythm, imitating a cat’s purr. “Feeling better, love?”, you say to her. “Y-yes”, Irene says, “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to be burdensome to you—I-I’m sure you’re tired, and-and I wasn’t being helpful”. You peck her cheeks thrice, just like how she likes it, “I’m sorry for coming home so late, love; I had so much work to do”. Irene returns the pecks to you, “thank you for working so hard all the time”.

You lay down on the sofa for a cuddle, and you hear Irene’s stomach rumble faintly. “You haven’t had dinner, love?”, you ask her. “We-we were supposed to eat out, r-remember?”, she says. You punch yourself internally as the memory returns to you, “I’m so sorry, love”. Irene used to voice her disappointment whenever you forgot about something, but she ditched that habit when you two got married. “We have sliced beef in the fridge, don’t we? I’ll make us something if you’ll let me go”, you say to her. Irene reluctantly unwraps her limbs from your body, seemingly sad about not touching you.

You open the fridge and grab half an onion and some sliced beef and put them on the counter next to the stove. You throw some minced garlic into a preheated nonstick pan that already has a bit of oil in it and wait until the fragrance fills the kitchen. Since Irene doesn’t really like onion, you cut the onion in half again, only using a quarter of it. You throw the onion—chopped largely so that Irene can avoid it easily—into the pan and cook it down until it’s soft. You look over your shoulder and see that Irene is still on the sofa, presumably asleep. “I hope this meal can convey how much I love you, my dear Irene”, you say to yourself as you dump sliced beef and sauces into the pan.

You put the food on a large plate and reheat some leftover rice in the microwave. You walk to the sofa and take a knee in front of the sleeping beauty. “Irene, my love”, you poke her forearm gently, “let’s eat, baby”. Irene wakes up slowly from her peace, “carry me, love”. You carry Irene on your back and take her to the dining table, and the overwhelming smell wakes her up entirely. “Wow, that looks so good, love!”, she gasps in excitement, “I want to eat! I want to eat!”. You silence the beeping microwave and take the rice out of it. You take a seat in front of your wife as she starts eating excitedly. “Oh my fucking God, that’s so fucking good”, she says. “Love, what did I tell you? Save the profanity for when we’re in bed”, you scold her. “Well, bed is where we will be after this”, she murmurs, not loud enough for you to hear.

You wash the dirty plates and pan after finishing the very late dinner with Irene. Irene stays silent as you do, which is curious, because she usually praises your cooking endlessly while she waits for you. “Did you like it, love?”, you ask her as you’re walking towards her. In your head, you expect Irene to say that she did like it—love it, even—but she says something else. “Daddy”, Irene bites her lip sexily, “I want my dessert”. You know what she means by that, and so does your cock. “You better earn it, then”, you say as you carry her to the bedroom.

Irene shakes herself off your arms and starts kissing you in arousal. She even goes as far as invading the space in your mouth with her tongue. The fact that she’s the one doing all this and is the first to break the kiss is funny—Irene can’t even keep up with herself. “Dad-daddy—fuck”, Irene struggles to breathe, “plea-please, I-I need you—I need my husband’s big cock”. You sit on the edge of the bed and rouse her, “I’ve always told you to work for it if you want something, so come and work for it”.

Irene kneels in front of you and frees your cock from your trousers and boxers. “I can’t live without—”, you cut her off by forcing your cock into Irene’s mouth. These fools only call Irene a cold person because of her front; everything about Irene is anything but cold, take her mouth for example. “Stop talking, start doing”, you command. Irene’s gags sound incredibly hot, and you’re desperate to hear it right now. There’s only one way to achieve that, and that is by fucking her mouth hard. You hold her head with both hands and bounce her on your cock. You feel the tip of your cock reach the back of her mouth, and Irene starts making the gagging sound that you love. “That’s my good wife”, you groan, “fuck, that’s so fucking good”.

You mercilessly fuck Irene’s mouth, sometimes stopping to make sure you don’t hurt her too much—with what you have in mind, however, her voice is guaranteed to disappear after the night ends. “Fuck, I’m getting close”, you announce. Irene looks at you and winks, and you can hear her telling you to cum in her mouth. Once you feel that your cum has accumulated on the tip of your cock, you plug your cock deep in Irene’s mouth and blow your load with a deep groan. You let her head go and Irene pulls away from your cock. She pokes your knee to get your attention. “Yeah, baby?”, you ask, and Irene swallows your cum in one gulp in front of your eyes.

“I—hah, holy fuck—I hope we’re not done”, she says. You shake your head, “we’re far from done, honey—strip, please”. As much as you like seeing Irene in a shirt, it’s not comparable to Irene in nothing. Irene starts her ritual by tying her hair in a bun and biting her lip—she’s making it really hard for you to resist the urge to just rip her clothes off. She reaches for the buttons on her shirt and undoes them one by one, letting the shirt drop to the floor after. “If you’re trying to tease me right now, sweetie, it’s working”, you admit your defeat, “I want to fuck you so bad right now”. She walks towards you after taking off her trousers, “and I want to get fucked by you so bad right now, daddy”.

You tell her to sit on the bed while you leave to get something to cover her eyes with. “I hope you’re down for something naughty, baby”, you say as you show her a silk blindfold. “I was expecting you to have me do the work because you were tired”, she says as she puts on the blindfold herself, “let’s get naughty, daddy”. You help her move to the center of the bed, and since Irene can’t see through the black silk, she doesn’t know that you’re grabbing more silk cloths to tie her limbs with.

“Daddy, where are you?”, Irene sniffs around the bedroom, trying to pick up your scent. You softly rub her cheeks with your thumb, “I’m here, love”. She blindly grabs your hand and guides it to her pussy, “I’m so wet for you, daddy”. You play with the nub of Irene’s pussy with your middle finger, “how bad do you want daddy, hm?”. Irene squirms around as your finger keeps stimulating her, “ahng, ngh, fuck, daddy—I-I need you so fucking bad. Please, daddy, I’m begging you”. You stop fiddling with her clit, “do you trust me, love?”. Irene nods to your question, “I-I’m sure daddy will take care of me”. You peck her lips before tying her hands together. “Next time I tell you to strip, I want you to take everything off—but it’s okay, I forgive you this time”, you say as you unlatch her bra and pull her panties down. Irene whimpers softly as her arousal peaks, “daddy, daddy—ngh, fuck—punish me, daddy; I’ve been naughty”.

You flip Irene onto her stomach and lift her waist up. “Ask nicely, love”, you say to her, your cock hard as rock. “Please-please-please—OH, FUCK”, Irene screams when you put the tip of your cock in her ass, “daddy, it hurts—it hurts so much”. The only thing coating your cock is her spit from the blowjob earlier, “you asked me to punish you, so this is your punishment”. You know that Irene will say the safe word if she wants to stop, so for now, you keep moving forward until your cock is fully lodged in her rear. As you keep fucking her ass, however, Irene lets out screams of pain that sound genuine. You’ve done anal with Irene before, but considering that she wasn’t prepared for this today, you feel bad for doing this, so you retreat from her ass.

You lay Irene on her back and take off her blindfold. “I’m so sorry, baby”, you apologize to your sobbing wife, “that must’ve hurt so bad, right?”. Irene shakes her head, “y-your pleasure comes first, daddy; I-I’ll do whatever you want me to”. You free her wrists so that you can cuddle her properly. “There’s no need for that, love. I’m not more important than you”, you spray kisses on her face, “I’m sorry for acting without consent”. Irene takes off her bra that has been hanging loosely on her arms and throws it away, “c-can we have vanilla now, daddy? I-I can do the work”.

You grant her request and lie down flat on the bed, giving Irene the chance to do whatever she wants. Irene lines up her pussy with your cock and goes down on it until she reaches the base, letting out a long moan as she goes. “I’m so glad I’m married to you”, she says, “ah, ngh—your cock makes me so fucking happy, daddy”. You palm her soft tits that are bouncing in front of your eyes, “I’m glad I’m married to you as well, love—God, fuck, you’re so tight”. Irene plants her hands on your chest and starts fucking herself with your cock, “ah, ah, ah—I-I will always be tight for you, daddy”. If you were to rank the top 3 sounds Irene makes, the order would be her moans, her gags, and then finally her laughs—her moans are simply angelic and deserve the top spot.

Irene keeps bouncing herself rapidly on your cock as she’s more comfortable taking you in the pussy than in the ass. “Daddy, would you let me cum? Please let me cum, daddy”, she begs. You tell her to cum whenever she wants, “you’ve earned it, baby; you’ve been so good”. Irene screams and trembles as she cums, and you feel her pussy squeezing your cock. “Daddy, daddy”, she falls limp on your body, “thank you—ah, fuck—thank you so much”.

You let Irene catch her breath as you whisper praises and affirmations into her ears. “Can I mark you, daddy? I want to show people that you’re mine”, she says. You chuckle, “the ring on my finger already does that, love—but sure, mark me if you want to”. Irene latches her mouth on the side of your neck, kissing and nibbling it to plant her hickeys on your skin. You’re usually the one doing the marking, so you never knew that getting kisses and nibbles in the neck feels this good. “Love, I like having your lips on my neck”, you say. Irene doesn’t say anything and keeps focusing on applying her love mark on you. “That should be enough”, Irene straightens her back, “your turn to mark me now”. She slaps your hands away when you reach your arms out towards her. “No, no, mark me from the inside”, she points at her pussy, “you haven’t cum yet, so give me your cum, please”.

You roll over and get on top of Irene, “you want my cum in your pussy, love?”. “Breed me, daddy”, she rubs your cheeks softly, “I’m so fucking fertile today”. You look at Irene in the eyes, “are you sure? You have a career to chase, love”. Irene rolls her eyes in annoyance, “fine, you’re right; I’ll take the morning after pill then”.

Seeing that you’ve come to an agreement, you start thrusting into her warm core. You’re instantly reminded of how tight she is. “Fuck, love, I don’t think I can last long”, you say, hoping that it won’t disappoint her. “Th-that’s okay, daddy; I won’t last long either”, Irene replies. You guide Irene’s hand towards her pussy, indirectly telling her to touch herself as you’re fucking her.

The two of you are busy with your own tasks: Irene is touching herself and you’re fucking her balls deep. “Ah, ah, I-I think you hit my cervix”, she says between moans, “are you sure you don’t want to breed me, daddy?”. She places your hand on her stomach, “just imagine, daddy; my tummy would start getting bigger and bigger, and I’d be so fucking horny all the time that I’d cum just by humping your thighs”. “What—fuck—what about your career, love?”, you ask, still doubtful about this whole pregnancy thing. Irene moans loudly as she feels the increased pace, “I-I’ll gladly throw it away as long as I get to please you every day”.

You’re still not entirely sold on the idea, but her words make you so damn aroused. You hug her tightly and continue fucking her—you can hear your orgasm knocking at the door. “Babe, I’m cumming”, you announce to her, and Irene tells you that she is about to cum as well. You grit your teeth and release your load deep into her pussy, possibly sending it straight to her cervix. At the same time, Irene shakes as she rides the high of orgasm. You reject her request to stay inside and walk towards the drawer where Irene keeps pills and condoms. You take one pill and a bottle of water and hand them to her. You tell her to take it in front of your eyes to make sure she doesn’t throw it away or something.

“Look, love”, you softly say to her, “I do want to have a child with you, but we haven’t talked about this thoroughly before; me getting you pregnant right now is not wise—I hope you understand, love”. Irene nods, “y-yes, honey. I’ll be patient and make sure that I’m ready for motherhood before you breed me”. You smile gently, “one day, when we’re both ready, we’ll have sex all day long to make sure you get pregnant, okay?”. “God, you’re making me so wet”, Irene says, “I swear I’ll drain every drop of cum out of your cock, honey”.

[joelsrose]

Howdy Cowboy

I am crazy but I am free - I need to study but can’t stop writing for my pookies

No warnings just tension and teasing and !hotcowboyJoel, reader is in her early/mid 20sss

You sighed, giving yourself one last look in the mirror, running a hand down your sides, smoothing out the simple black mini dress that clung to your skin. Paired with a pair of old cowboy boots you’d dusted off from the back of your closet, the outfit wasn’t exactly your usual style. But tonight wasn’t about you—it was Sarah’s birthday, and she had been planning this cowboy-themed party for months, insisting on holding it at the local rodeo bar. She hadn’t stopped talking about riding the mechanical bull, her excitement practically contagious.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face as you thought of Sarah—her curls bouncing, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she finally got her moment on the mechanical bull. But even with all that anticipation, it wasn’t what had your heart racing the most.

It was Joel.

The second his name crossed your mind, a wave of butterflies exploded in your stomach, making you feel both giddy and a little breathless. The theme was cowboy, which meant Joel would definitely be in something dangerously fitting. Your mind drifted—what if he wore those perfectly worn jeans that sat just right on his hips, a cowboy hat tipped low over those deep brown eyes of his, maybe even an old shirt clinging to his chest in that way that made you look twice?

You could almost picture it—Joel walking into the bar, the dim light hitting him just right, his easy smile and that slow, purposeful stride making your heart skip a beat. It made you feel like a teenager with a crush all over again, the kind that leaves you breathless and flushed, and completely unsure what to do with yourself.

The thought of seeing him tonight, in the soft glow of the bar lights, dressed like that—it made your pulse quicken.

•••

You felt a flutter of nerves as you stepped inside, the buzz of energy from the bar wrapping around you. The dim lighting cast a warm, golden hue over the rustic wooden beams, making the place feel both intimate and alive. For Sarah’s birthday, the bar had been completely transformed—twinkling string lights hanging from the ceiling, a sea of cowboy hats and boots filling the room like something straight out of her dreams. Laughter rang out from every corner, the soft twang of country music humming in the background, setting the perfect tone for the night. It was exactly the kind of celebration Sarah had always envisioned, and a quiet thrill of excitement stirred in your chest, knowing how much this moment meant to her.

Spotting Sarah wasn’t hard; she stood near the mechanical bull, already in full party mode. Her wild curls framed her glowing face, and she was dressed to perfection—a denim mini skirt, a fitted white top, and, of course, the pièce de résistance: a rhinestone-covered cowboy hat perched on her head, catching the light with every move. A Birthday Girl sash draped across her chest, sparkling just as brightly. You couldn’t help but chuckle and shake your head at how perfectly Sarah she looked—radiant, confident, and completely in her element.

“Hey!” Sarah squealed the moment she spotted you, throwing her arms around you in a hug that radiated pure excitement. "You made it!"

"Of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world," you grinned, pulling back to take in her outfit. “You look incredible, by the way.”

Sarah’s face lit up even more, and she gave a little twirl, the rhinestones on her hat sparkling with every movement. "Thanks! Feelin’ like a proper cowgirl tonight," she winked, her energy infectious. "Now, go get yourself a drink from the bar and hurry back—I’ve got big plans for us!" she teased, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

You turned to move towards the bar, and that’s when you saw him—leaning casually against the wooden counter, drink in hand, the rim of his cowboy hat casting just enough shadow to hide his dark eyes. Joel. The breath hitched in your throat as your gaze settled on him. He looked even better than you had imagined—broad shoulders filling out his worn, flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms, strong and lightly scarred from years of hard work, flexing subtly as he lifted the glass to his lips. His faded jeans hung low on his hips, the belt buckle glinting under the dim bar lights, and that damn cowboy hat perched perfectly on his head, tipping ever so slightly forward as he brought the glass to his lips.

Your heart skipped a beat, the world narrowing to just him in that instant. Most men would look ridiculous dressed like that, a caricature of what a cowboy should be. But Joel? The way he wore it, the way he owned the look, made you think all kinds of unholy things. You scolded yourself for how easily the blush crept up your cheeks, painting you crimson in a way only he knew how to. It was ridiculous how just the sight of him made you feel like a teenager again. You’d seen him countless times before, but tonight, bathed in the golden glow of string lights, with the brim of his hat casting shadows over his sharp features, Joel looked every bit the rugged cowboy from your wildest daydreams—strong, untamed, and lighting a fire deep inside you that you couldn’t ignore.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you made your way to the bar, your heart pounding a little faster with each step. Joel hadn’t spotted you yet, his focus seemingly on the drink in his hand, his body leaned casually against the counter as he spoke to the person beside him. The closer you got, the more the nerves started to build. You could practically feel the heat rolling off him. Pretending to study the drink menu hanging above the bar, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Joel. His dark eyes, shaded beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, flicked up just as you turned your head, catching you mid-scan. His lips curled into that slow, knowing smile that always seemed to unravel you from the inside out, making your heart stutter in response.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Joel teased, his voice smooth and warm, like honey dripping slow. Before you could even form a response, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug that was far more intimate than it should’ve been. The faint scent of whiskey on his breath mingled with the earthy tones of his cologne, the combination stirring something deep and unnameable inside you. His chest pressed against yours for a moment that stretched just a bit too long, his hand sliding gently across your back, the warmth of his touch both firm and tender. When he finally pulled away, his smirk—the one that always made your heart stutter—was firmly in place, his eyes twinkling with a kind of mischief that left you breathless.

Joel leaned in just a bit closer, the space between you shrinking as he tilted his head slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Can I get you a drink?” he asked, his voice a smooth, lazy drawl that made the offer feel like the most natural thing in the world, like it was just the two of you, here and now.

You smiled, trying to steady yourself under his gaze. Your eyes flicked to the drink menu for a split second before meeting his again, the weight of his attention making it hard to focus. Biting your lip, you shrugged playfully. "Yeah, but I can't decide."

Joel tipped his head, taking a slow, deliberate sip of his whiskey, his eyes never straying from yours. “Can’t go wrong with whiskey,” he murmured, lifting his glass slightly, his deep drawl wrapping around you like velvet, warm and teasing.

You arched an eyebrow, mirroring his playful tone. “A little strong for me, don’t you think?”

His smile deepened, a hint of challenge flickering in his gaze. “You sure about that?” he asked, his voice dipping lower. “Thought you could handle a little heat.”

A blush crept up your neck, spreading across your cheeks, and suddenly your usual witty responses seemed to vanish. He was being forward tonight—really forward. This wasn’t like his usual stolen glances or the casual brushes of his hand. Joel Miller was flirting with you. And it wasn’t subtle.

“Wanna try?” he asked, his voice dipping lower, rich with mischief. His eyes flickered in a way that left no room for doubt, tracing your lips before he subconsciously licked his own. The gesture was slow, deliberate, and paired with the gleam in his gaze, it sent a shiver straight through you.

You hesitated for a second, but before you could answer, he was already lifting the glass to your lips. The smooth rim of the glass touched your mouth, and as you took a slow sip, your eyes locked with his, the world narrowing to just the two of you. The whiskey burned down your throat, a warmth spreading through your chest, but it was his gaze that made your breath hitch. Your head tilted back slightly as you swallowed, and he watched, his eyes darkening, intense and unwavering.

The moment stretched between you, the tension tightening like a wire pulled taut, neither of you breaking the connection. His gaze followed the movement of your throat, the subtle rise and fall as you drank, and when you lowered your head again, the air around you felt charged, heavy with everything unsaid.

A slow smile tugged at the corner of Joel’s lips, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous and teasing. He leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping to a low, rough murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. “Good girl,” he drawled, the words soaked in heat, went straight to your core.

Your heart stuttered at the words, heat flooding your cheeks. The intensity in his gaze hadn’t lessened, if anything, it had deepened. He leaned just a fraction closer, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin, his eyes slightly hooded as they took you in, tracing the curve of your lips and the flush on your cheeks.

You were overwhelmed, every hair on your body standing on end, your thoughts a hazy blur as you tried to figure out if the moment you were sharing with Joel was real or some kind of daydream. Joel had been bolder tonight, more direct, and it was almost too much. The weight of his touch, the intensity of his gaze—it all lingered, leaving your skin flushed and your pulse racing. You needed to break the tension, to say something before you completely lost your grip on reality.

“You know,” you began, a teasing smile curling at the corners of your lips, “I gotta say, you pull off the cowboy look better than I expected.” Your tone was light, playful, but the flutter of nerves in your stomach betrayed the weight of the moment still hanging between you.

Joel chuckled, the sound deep and rough, sending a ripple of warmth through you. His eyes flicked down to his boots and then back up, settling on you with a glint of mischief. “That so?” he drawled, raising an eyebrow as he leaned in just a bit closer, the space between you tightening. “And what exactly were you expectin’, huh? Me in my old t-shirt and worn-out jeans?”

You shrugged, biting your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “Maybe. It’s kinda your signature look, isn’t it?”

“It’s comfortable,” he replied with a casual shrug, his eyes glinting. “But sometimes you gotta switch it up. Thought I’d embrace the theme tonight.” He paused, his gaze lingering on you before flicking up to the top of your head. “Where’s your cowboy attire, anyway?”

You let out a soft laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “Figured the boots were enough,” you said, glancing down at your feet. Joel's gaze followed, but his eyes didn’t stop there. They trailed slowly up the length of your bare legs, lingering for just a heartbeat longer than necessary before meeting yours again.

Joel clicked his tongue, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “Nah, you’re missin’ somethin’,” he teased, tilting his head slightly, his eyes scanning you with an exaggerated slowness, as if picturing you fully in theme. “Can’t go to a cowboy party without a cowboy hat. Gotta complete the look.”

Before you could respond, someone called his name from across the bar. Joel let out a quiet sigh, turning slightly to see who it was. The reluctance on his face was unmistakable, the easygoing warmth from moments ago fading just a bit as the interruption pulled him away from you. A flicker of disappointment crossed his expression, like he was just as unwilling to let go of the moment as you were.

He turned back to you, his eyes softening once more. “Looks like I gotta take care of somethin’ real quick,” he said, his voice laced with quiet reluctance.

For a brief second, neither of you moved, the air thick with unspoken words. Then, with a decisive nod, Joel reached up, pulling the cowboy hat from his own head. The brim caught the warm light, casting a shadow over his face as he held it in his hands.

“You’re missin’ this,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, rough around the edges in the way that always sent a thrill through you. Before you could even process what he was doing, Joel gently placed the hat on your head, tilting it just right with careful hands. His fingers brushed through your hair as he adjusted it.

You looked up at him, eyes wide, heart pounding in your chest. “Joel…” you started, unsure of what to say, but he wasn’t finished.

“Looks better on you anyway,” he added, his voice softer now, almost a whisper, as if he wasn’t just talking about the hat. His eyes held yours, dark and intense, a quiet promise lingering in the space between you. For a moment, everything around you—the noise, the laughter, the people—faded into the background. It was just the two of you, standing there in the dim light, the air thick with something unspoken.

Joel’s fingers lingered for a second longer, brushing against your cheek, before he pulled away. He gave you one last lingering look, his lips curving into a small, private smile as he stepped back.

“Don’t lose it, now,” he said with a wink, his voice carrying a hint of something playful, though there was a deeper meaning hidden beneath the words.

And just like that, he turned and walked away, his broad shoulders disappearing into the crowd, leaving you standing there with his cowboy hat resting on your head, your heart pounding and your thoughts a jumbled mess of everything that had just passed between you. The warmth of his presence still lingered, even though he was no longer standing beside you, and as you lifted a hand to touch the brim of the hat, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

•••

For the rest of the night, you tried to focus on the conversations swirling around you, laughing at the right moments, nodding along when someone spoke. But no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts kept drifting back to Joel. Every sip of the whiskey he’d left for you—a drink too bitter for your liking—became a reminder of him. The taste lingered on your lips, but not as much as the memory of his hands on your waist, the low murmur of his voice, the heat of his gaze.

But what made it impossible to forget was the way he kept finding you, catching your eye from across the room. Every time your gazes locked, it was as though the world around him faded—he'd stop mid-conversation, his attention drawn solely to you, as if no one else existed. His eyes would linger, dark and intense, leaving you breathless and yearning for the moments you had been closer.

His hair, now slightly tousled from where the hat had once sat, made him look even more rugged, and every time he looked at you, it was as though the air between you thickened. The party became a blur, the conversations blending into background noise, because the only thing that mattered was the way Joel would glance at you with that slow, deliberate look that made your heart race. He’d look at you like he was memorizing the sight, like he was already missing the moments when your paths would cross again.

Then, Sarah’s voice rang out, cutting through the hum of conversation and the twang of country music. She stood on a chair, her curls wild under the string lights, hands raised high as she grinned mischievously. “Alright, y’all, before we cut the cake, we’ve got one more thing to do,” she announced, her voice loud and full of excitement. “Who’s ready for the bull?”

With the energy buzzing in the air, Sarah bounded over to the bull. The crowd followed, gathering around as she made a show of adjusting her cowboy boots and tossing her hair over her shoulder with exaggerated flair. You couldn’t help but laugh as she flashed you a quick wink before climbing on. She threw one arm in the air dramatically, gripping the saddle with the other, and the crowd went wild.

The bull jerked to life, and Sarah let out an exaggerated "yee-haw!" that had everyone howling with laughter. She clung to the bull, her curls bouncing wildly as she tried to maintain her balance, her boots slipping in the stirrups. It didn’t take long—maybe ten seconds, if that—before she lost her grip and tumbled off, landing in a pile of giggles on the padded floor.

Amid the cheers and clapping, Sarah stood up, taking a playful bow as she caught her breath, her curls bouncing with the movement. Then, her eyes locked onto yours with a devilish glint. Her smile widened into a mischievous grin, and with one finger pointed directly at you, she shouted, “Your turn!”

You groaned internally, feeling the heat of all eyes on you. For a moment, you seriously contemplated making a break for it, envisioning a swift escape out the back door before anyone could push you toward the beast in front of you.

But before you could act on your plan, two strong hands found your waist from behind, steady and familiar.

“Come on, darlin’. You’re up,” Joel’s deep voice drawled near your ear. His hands were firm but gentle, guiding you toward the bull like you didn’t have a choice in the matter. And truthfully, with him so close, you weren’t sure you wanted one.

The crowd parted as Joel walked with you, his presence commanding as always. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the scent of whiskey and something earthier filling the space between you.

You stood beside the bull, feeling a little ridiculous but mostly nervous. Not because of the bull, but because of Joel—his hand still lingering on your waist, the heat of his fingers burning through the fabric of your dress. He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear, the subtle brush of his chest against your back making your skin tingle with awareness. Joel leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice dropping low—dangerously low.

“Let’s see how well you ride,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear, each syllable laced with suggestion.

The innuendo hit you hard, making your stomach flip, heat pooling low in your belly and rush of blood rushing to your cheeks at the implication in his voice.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, his hands tightened on your waist. With an effortless lift, Joel had you in the saddle, his strong grip making you feel weightless, completely under his control. The brush of his fingers as they left your hips was like fire, leaving you reeling, breathless, as you adjusted to your seat on the bull.

After Joel lifted you onto the bull, his fingers didn't pull away immediately. Instead, they lingered, resting on your bare thigh where your dress had ridden up just slightly. His rough fingertips began tracing slow, deliberate circles against your skin—small, hidden movements shielded by the way his body subtly blocked the view from anyone else around. It was an intimate touch, just for you, as if he was testing the waters, seeing how far he could push without a word.

His touch, though soft, was firm enough to make you dizzy, each little circle drawing you further into the heat of the moment, making it impossible to think about anything else but him.

Your breath caught, and when you glanced up, his eyes were already locked on yours, dark and intense, like he was daring you to react. His thumb lingered on your thigh for just a heartbeat longer, pressing slightly before he stepped back, leaving you breathless.

The bull’s leather seat was cool beneath you, its surface slightly worn and slick under your palms as you gripped the reins, trying to steady your racing heart.

As you settled onto the bull, you tried to focus on anything but the way Joel’s touch still seemed to burn on your skin.

Before you could prepare yourself, the machine beneath you jerked to life and the crowd around you erupted in cheers and laughter. But it all felt distant, as though you were caught in a bubble, the world slowing down.

You gripped the bull’s rope handle tightly, your knuckles white against the worn leather, trying to steady yourself as it bucked forward. The motion was rough, your body swaying with each unpredictable movement, the muscles in your legs straining to hold on.

Your dress rode up just a bit more with each buck of the bull, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Joel still watching you, arms crossed, his gaze intense, unwavering. His lips quirked into that signature smirk of his, and it sent a thrill through you, making it even harder to concentrate on staying upright.

The bull bucked harder, throwing you back, and you squealed in surprise, laughter bubbling up in your chest. But even through the laughter, you felt the weight of his stare, the way his eyes traced every movement, every stumble, every sway. Your thighs burned from holding on - But the hardest thing wasn’t the bull—it was resisting the pull of Joel’s gaze, the weight of it still on you.

He hadn't moved an inch, standing just close enough for you to catch glimpses of him between the wild jerks of the bull. His dark eyes locked on you, unwavering, and every time your gaze met his, his lips curled into that slow, lazy grin that made your heart race. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you, how his steady gaze ignited something inside you that made it even harder to concentrate. The thought alone made your stomach flip, a rush of heat flooding through you despite the cool night air.

With a playful grin of your own, you reached up, pulling the cowboy hat from your head and doing what you’d seen in every movie—swinging it in one hand as you tried to ride out the last few bucks. The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter, but all you could focus on was Joel’s reaction, the way his eyes darkened just a little more, that grin of his growing wider as he watched you, completely captivated.

The bull twisted sharply to one side, and your grip faltered. You let out a squeal, laughter bubbling up from your chest, but you could feel yourself slipping. Your body swayed dangerously, your dress hitching up even further, and just as you were about to fall, Joel stepped forward, his eyes flashing with something you couldn’t quite name.

With one final, hard buck, the bull sent you flying off, tumbling onto the padded mat below with a breathless gasp. The crowd erupted into laughter and cheers, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears and the sound of Joel’s low chuckle as he stepped closer, offering you his hand.

“You alright there, cowgirl?” he teased, his voice thick with amusement. His hand, strong and warm, wrapped around yours as he helped you to your feet, pulling you up with ease.

You laughed breathlessly, brushing off your dress, trying to regain some sense of composure as your heart raced for an entirely different reason now.

You grinned, still catching your breath from the ride, and before you could think twice, you teased, “I think I need more practice.”

Joel’s eyebrows shot up, clearly taken aback by the lack of subtlety in your voice. For once, you had surprised him. His gaze flickered with something that made your heart skip, but just as quickly, he composed himself, the corner of his mouth twitching into that familiar smirk.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice smooth and low, “maybe I can show you how it’s done sometime.”

Your pulse quickened, a dizzying rush of heat flooding through you at the boldness of his words. It took everything inside of you not to grab him by his flannel and close the distance between you right there and then. The intensity of the moment, the weight of everything unsaid, had your breath catching in your throat. His eyes never left yours, the smoldering desire in them making your heart race as if he was daring you to make the next move.

Before you could respond, Sarah called your name, waving from across the room. You turned, ready to head back to her, but stopped short, suddenly aware of the weight on your head.

Joel’s cowboy hat.

You reached up, ready to hand it back to him.

“Here, you should take this.”

But before you could take it off, Joel’s hand gently stopped you. His thumb brushed over your knuckles.

“Nah,” he murmured, his voice low and rich with meaning.

“Keep it… for our next lesson.”

Your breath hitched at the weight of his words, the promise wrapped in them, and before you could think of something witty to say, Joel gave you one last lingering look, his eyes glinting with something unspoken before he stepped back into the crowd.

As you turned back to Sarah, your heart was still racing, Joel’s hat resting snugly on your head, a promise of something more hanging in the air.

[dirtyvulture]

Envy and Venom

Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.

Word count: 4190

AN: Randomly came up with this idea, it's a little different than my other stuff, but give it a read. :)

DAY 1

“You couldn’t have picked a better person for the job,” you tease, gripping tightly onto your father’s hand as the sea of flashing lights fifteen feet away practically blinds you. The reporters call out for your attention but you ignore them, pausing in the awkward, hand-holding pose with your father so the photo can be plastered across the front page of news outlets around the world. 

“I trust you. Don’t ruin what I’ve started,” your father says, grabbing onto your shoulder and pulling you into a tight embrace. “And please try to keep your…escapades…a little more under wraps, okay?” he whispers into your ear. 

“I’ll try, Dad,” you say, but it isn’t really your fault that the public was so interested in what goes on in your bedroom. Then again, you hadn’t exactly been trying to be subtle when you were fucking your secretary against the penthouse window of your apartment, but people should try to mind their own business more. 

Your father pushes you back and the two of you turn in unison to wave at the crowd once more. 

“Congratulations!” you hear them echoing. “To Envy Industries’ new CEO, Y/N!”

***********************************************************************

Naturally, to celebrate your latest achievement, you host the party of the century, inviting other world-renowned millionaires, fellow tech company gurus, actors, singers, celebrities, and pretty much anyone else who fit society’s thinly-veiled description of “famous.” You initially show up with two models you had already spent the afternoon with, but you weren’t interested in stringing them along and were excited to find some new target to chase after. 

The first hour alone is spent wading through faces you recognize from online but have no personal connection with, and you have to pretend that you’re grateful when they take enough interest and ask about the future of your company. 

“We’ll probably stick to the production of GPUs for a while,” you say, yelling to be heard over the music and rumble of people. “We just signed a huge contract with Tesla, so we’ll be supplying all the hardware they need for their next products. They have a big need for AI software, and we’re one of the few companies that can build exactly what they need.”

“Wow, that’s very impressive.” The short-haired blonde woman suddenly throws herself at you, her nails digging into your bicep so hard you can feel the prick through your burgundy silk jacket.

“Thank you.” You’re not sure you’ve ever seen this woman before in your life and you wonder if she even understood half of what you were saying or she was just trying to get into your pants.

“I’m Carol, by the way. Do you want to get a drink?”

“I would never say no to a drink.” You let Carol lead you to the bar (that you are footing the bill for) and she orders for you, picking an old-fashioned cocktail for you. A decent choice, but if she had read your interview in The Chief Executive Magazine, she would have known that your favorite drink was actually a vodka martini. You join her at an empty table.

“So, what do you do for a living?” you ask out of politeness, taking a sip and letting the whiskey burn your throat.  

“I’m an influencer,” Carol says. “I have one-point-seven million followers on Tik Tok right now. I mostly post fitness routines or travel vlogs. And I also stream video games on Twitch.”

“Ah.” Now it’s your turn to act like you’re impressed when you have no idea what she’s talking about. 

Carol drones on about her next project, which involves a collaboration with another influencer you’ve never heard of. Your eyes scan the people walking by, looking for a new object of infatuation. It doesn’t take long until you make eye contact with a beautiful, redheaded woman, her voluptuous body hugged by an emerald green dress. Immediately, your heart rate spikes as you scan her up and down, not predatorily, but admiringly. The neckline of her dress plunges down to her belly button, a tasteful hint of her cleavage showing through, highlighted by a long  silver necklace with a thin gold bar tassel. 

You perk up, smoothing your hair back and puffing out your chest like a proud pigeon when she starts walking over.

“Congratulations,” the redhead says. “Your family must be very proud of you.”

“My dad didn’t want to give it to me,” you admit, completely oblivious to Carol’s pout as you instantly give your attention to this new woman. “But I convinced him the company would be in good hands.”

“I bet.”

“Can I get you a drink?” you ask, desperate to keep around for the conversation (and perhaps more).

“I should be the one treating you,” the redhead says. She takes the cocktail out of your hands and brings it to her lips. “Hmm. I didn’t think this was your taste,” she notes. “How does a vodka martini sound?”

You know instantly this is the woman you’re taking home with you tonight. “That sounds delightful.”

***********************************************************************

You ditch Carol without a second thought and follow the redhead back to the bar, where she picks up two vodka martinis. She brings you to a private booth, sitting so close to you that your knees are touching hers. You can almost feel her body heat through the fabric of your clothes. 

“To Envy Industries’ long and prosperous future,” she says, raising her drink in a toast.

“Cheers.” You clink your glass to hers and drink half of it in one long sip, smiling in satisfaction. “I didn’t catch your name,” you say.

“Natasha.” It sparks a familiar memory, a name you’ve heard before. But she’s so intoxicating that you give it no second thought. Natasha is one of the most gorgeous women you’ve ever seen in your life and you can’t believe she’s sitting here talking to you and you alone.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you say, formally offering her your hand. She shakes it, and you gently bring her hand up to your lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Likewise,” she says, crossing one perfectly toned leg over the other, her foot nudging the back of your calf. “Not to eavesdrop, but I overheard you mention a contract with Tesla. Say what you want about that company, but you can’t deny the evidence that they’re one of the highest valued companies in the world. I wouldn’t be surprised if Envy Industries is soon up there with them.”

“Exactly.” Your interest in this woman skyrockets, because you know she isn’t bullshitting you. She isn’t like Carol. She knows what she’s talking about. 

“We’ve been trying to strike deals with the automotive industry for years,” Natasha goes on, “But you’ve beat us to it. And now that you’ve partnered up with Tesla, you’re basically unstoppable.”

“Not quite,” you correct, now unable to stop yourself from unraveling the schemes of your company’s next five years. “Our research on artificial intelligence is just getting started. We just applied for ten new patents within computing technologies and we’re on track to absolutely dominate the market for discrete graphics processing units by the end of the year.” 

Natasha grins at your enthusiasm and you feel yourself blush in embarrassment. You know the media often labeled you as stupid, reckless, irresponsible, unfit to lead, and constantly bashed your sexual appetite, but you were all those things and a technology genius. Your father had built this company from the ground up, but you had been there alongside him the past six years. While everyone classified your promotion to CEO as nepotism, you felt you had rightfully earned it. 

“I don’t know how you do it,” she comments.

“Well, it definitely wouldn’t be wise for the new CEO to be giving away all the secrets, now would it?” you chuckle, even though you’ve definitely already said more than you should’ve. 

“Your success is no trade secret.” Natasha turns her whole body to face you. The attention she’s giving you is almost more than you can bear. Your heart pounds against your chest. No woman has ever made you this excited before. “But if you want, maybe we can go somewhere a little more private, where you can share whatever else you’d like.”

“Hmm.” It was rare for another woman to be so bold with you. But you’ve never lusted after another woman like Natasha before. Arousal heats up in your stomach as Natasha leans forward, resting her hand on your thigh and squeezing it teasingly. Her breath fans over your face and you can smell the vodka and her cherry lipstick. You lean forward to meet her, moving like you’re in a dream, fireworks sparking in the back of your head the moment your lips touch. 

Suddenly, you’re overcome with the carnal desire to drag this woman up to your penthouse and have her squirming underneath you, crying out your name as she comes undone.

“Um, would you like to…” You can hardly think straight. “My room…apartment…is upstairs…if you want to…”

“Show me the way,” Natasha says, standing up and offering you her hand.

***********************************************************************

Your brain is swirling in a fog as you follow Natasha to the elevator. You don’t even register any of the people you pass, fully aware of the fact that someone will report this headline to the National Enquirer, at the very least. But all the worries of the future disappear the moment the elevator doors close and Natasha throws herself at you, her legs hooking around your narrow waist and her heels digging into the small of your back. Your hands support her supple bottom, squeezing in appreciation as her lips crash against yours in a desperate frenzy. 

You stumble into the wall, smashing your hand onto the top floor button and feeling the elevator start to rise, but not fast enough. 

“Lucky me,” Natasha pants between kisses. “Getting to go home with the newly-christened CEO of Envy Industries.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight,” you respond, heat rising between your legs. “Of course you were coming home with me.”

Natasha glows with the praise and pulls your head into her chest, where you instinctively lick and nip at the flesh of her exposed breasts and she keens at the attention. When the elevator doors open again, you stumble out with her still in your arms, your feet automatically taking you down the path to your apartment. Thankfully, your apartment door opens automatically when your key card is in range, so you’re able to kick it open with your foot, without having to put her down.   

You carry her straight to the bedroom, dropping her on the freshly-changed sheets you had housekeeping put on after you were done with the two models from earlier. You can hardly remember your time with them and your body is practically vibrating in anticipation like you haven’t had sex in years. You crawl on top of Natasha, lowering yourself to kiss her again, this time with more passion and her arms snake over your broad back, pressing your body against hers.  

“I need to get you out of this dress,” you pant, desperate for skin-to-skin contact with her. 

“You first,” she says, releasing you as you sit up, yanking off your jacket and throwing it to the floor. You’re annoyed at your choice of shirt, a white button-up that has way too many buttons, as you impatiently pop them off one at a time and remove your bra. Natasha watches you with hunger in her eyes and you’ve never felt more proud to reveal yourself to another partner. The daily, painful 2-hour visits to the gym and strict adherence to a customized diet showed in your chiseled physique, your biceps bulging like you had baseballs under your skin, your perfect washboard abs, and your thighs were sturdier than tree trunks. 

“Fuck,” she mutters, reaching up to run her hand across your abs like she can’t believe you’re really in front of her. “I could look at you all day.”

It’s a common reaction most people have, but it definitely heats you up more when it comes from Natasha. “Your turn, gorgeous.” 

She sits up and turns around so you can access the zipper of her dress. You sweep her hair to the side, stealing a kiss to her neck because you really can’t help yourself. Natasha hums in appreciation and you lower her zipper slowly. Her dress pools at her waist like a glimmering green puddle. She isn’t wearing a bra so your hands immediately gravitate to cup her breasts, and she arches her back against your bare chest. 

“Are you gonna fuck me the same way you do to every girl you have in here?” she asks, placing one of her hands over yours and guiding it down her stomach, where your fingers part through her soaking folds. 

“If you want me to,” you say, pressing deeper into her and she whines at your touch. “But I’ll give you whatever you want.” Normally, you enjoy being in full control in the bedroom, but you are absolutely willing to give that up if it pleases Natasha. 

She suddenly pushes your hand away from her center; you can still feel traces of her stickiness on your fingers. “Do you have a strap? I want to ride you.”

Your stomach flips at the thought of her on top of you, grinding down on you until she finishes. Her heaving bosom in your face for you to suck and kiss while she enjoys the orgasm you gave her. 

“Yeah, let me grab it.” While you launch yourself off the bed to go fishing around your nightstand drawer, Natasha nudges her dress to the floor and delicately removes her long necklace, settling back comfortably on your king-sized bed while she waits for you. You take off your pants and pull the harness over your waist, turning back to the mouth-watering sight of her naked and ready for your taking. Her body is toned and curved in all the right places: clearly, she respected her body as much as you did to yours. There are few things you love more than a woman who takes care of herself.

You climb back onto the bed and Natasha pounces on you while you’re still getting into position, holding onto your biceps to pin you down. You catch sight of her glimmering wetness as she drags herself along your abs, pressing back against your cock until it rubs against her butt. You reach over to grab the bottle of lube always present on your nightstand and squirt a generous glob onto your strap, not that it looks like Natasha will need it. 

“Look how wet you are. You’ve been waiting for this all night, sweetheart?” you tease, your hands running up and down her sides. Natasha takes you by surprise when she shoves you back against the headboard.  

“Shut up and let me fuck you,” she growls, her voice dangerously dropping an octave. Natasha lifts herself up to line herself with the head of your cock and slides down in one move. The slick noise as it fills her is downright sinful. Your big hands wrap around her tiny waist, guiding her to bounce in an aggressive rhythm as the two of you watch your cock disappear inside of her. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” she moans, throwing her head back, red hair spilling over her shoulders. “That feels so good.”

“Look how well you’re taking me,” you praise, your hips jerking up to match her rhythm. Even though you can’t necessarily feel it, you swear her pussy is clenching around the toy, greedily sucking you in and requiring physical effort to pull out. Your own clit is throbbing as the toy bumps it every time Natasha slams down on your thighs. 

“Deeper, babe. Go deeper,” Natasha begs, moving her hands from your shoulders to the headboard, grabbing it so firmly you hear the wood crack. You change the angle of your hips, punching them up to satisfy her command. The bed frame creaks and shakes; you know your father would be unhappy to hear he has to order you a new one so soon, but you can’t be bothered to care right now.

“Fuck, right there. That’s it,” Natasha moans, rolling her hips with such fluidity it makes your stomach clench. She looks down at you, admiring the flex of your muscles as you do your best to please her, a singular bead of sweat running over your collarbone and sliding down between your breasts. 

“I’m close. I’m almost fucking there,” she warns, her hips beginning to lose their rhythm. But you keep your intense pace, until your abs are cramping and you’re certain there are bruises on your thighs. Your own arousal burns like a ball of white-hot fire and you so desperately want to make this woman cum you will gladly ignore the ache of your own orgasm for hers. 

“You’re fucking me too well, baby. I’m gonna lose it,” Natasha pants and the praise almost breaks your control. She throws her head back as she finishes and you bury your face in her heaving chest, tasting the sweat on her skin and sucking one of her nipples into your mouth. Her hand abandons the headboard to tangle in your hair, yanking almost painfully at your roots while you feel her cum spill onto your lap. She pushes your head away once she’s done, your lips parting from her nipple with a string of saliva, and lifts herself off your cock. The two of you are panting in unison, while you’re still fighting the simmer of arousal in your gut.

“Hmm, that was nice. Do you normally let your partner finish first?” she asks, resting her hands on your chest again. “I didn’t think you were the type.”

Your face burns in embarrassment because she’s not wrong. “Um…no,” you admit, knowing full well you could lie, but you feel like she’ll be able to see through it.

Natasha smirks. “Such a gentlewoman with me,” she says, bending over to kiss you, this time much more softly than before. 

“Only for you,” you murmur back, shocked at how whipped you already are for her. 

“You want me to help you finish?” Natasha asks, pushing the strap aside to brush her fingers across your hot center. Your hips jerk off the bed, almost launching Natasha into the air. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she giggles, climbing off your lap and helping you pull the strap off your waist. You’re practically frozen in anticipation, watching with bated breath as Natasha scoots herself down the bed and lowers her head between your legs.

You melt at the feeling of her mouth against your center, perfectly hot and wet. Your back arches off the bed when her tongue glides through your folds, lapping up the mixture of body fluids like it’s some kind life-saving elixir. 

“Shit, baby, that feels amazing,” you moan, burying one of your hands in her red tresses, motioning with your hips that you want her deeper. She obliges by wrapping her lips around your clit and giving it a few hard sucks that have you seeing white stars behind your eyelids. You let go of her hair, afraid you’ll tear it out and grab onto the Egyptian cotton sheets tightly. Her tongue pushes into you and you swear you convulse around it, already leaking into her mouth when she’s only just started to go down on you.

Natasha’s arms wrap around your powerful thighs, trying to force them apart as you close them around her head. You don’t mean to put her in awkward, even dangerous position, but you can’t think about anything other than the pulsing in your center, soothed and encouraged by the heat of Natasha’s mouth. You dig your heels into the mattress to prevent yourself from bouncing across the bed at the rocking motion your body had adopted to maximize your pleasure. Every time her tongue slips into you, the muscles in your stomach contract so sharply it almost hurts, and when she laps at your clit, the stimulation is so great you feel immediately dizzy.

“Natasha,” you pant, unable to hold out any longer. “I’m gonna…Please let me…” 

She presses into you with even more enthusiasm than before and your body seizes as you release yourself into her mouth. Natasha eagerly collects all your slick, her red lipstick smeared on the insides of your thighs.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moan, feeling your high is going to last forever. But just the sensations start to fizz, you realize Natasha still has her iron grip on your legs, keeping them spread apart.

“I want another,” she demands, in a sultry tone that almost pulls the second orgasm from you right there.

“Natasha,” you whine, fearing you are too sensitive to deliver her wishes. You twist your body back and forth, half-heartedly trying to free yourself. But Natasha won’t let you, lowering her head to your heat and taking what she wants. Overly stimulated, every muscle in your body goes rigid as fireworks of pleasure, bordering the line of painful, explode inside of you. Natasha’s tongue somehow reaches even deeper than she had the first time, the tip pressing against your front ridged wall and you lose it for the second time in minutes.

“Oh, fuck!” you cry, your back arching off the bed but Natasha holds your waist down, determined to not let a drop of your essence go to waste. Your head is spinning and your body is like a live wire of excitement, twitching and trembling until you have no more energy left and and you melt into a limp mess.

Natasha kisses up your abs, between your breasts and licks at the column of your sweaty throat. Her lips finally connect with yours and you can taste a hint of yourself mixed with hers. You can’t wait to taste her straight from the source, but it’s going to take a bit of time to find the strength to move after two back-to-back orgasms. She wraps her arms around your torso, nuzzling into the side of your chest and inhaling deeply.

There is a long, but not uncomfortable silence as you two of you find your breath.

“I’m not letting you leave until you sit on my face,” you finally say. Natasha looks up at you with a satisfied grin.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she says, crawling up so she can do just that.

***********************************************************************

The moment Natasha made eye contact with you, she knew you were done for. You were far too predictable. She knew exactly the kind of woman you chased after. She knew what she needed to say to catch your attention, to convince you that she deserved a private moment with you.

You were too easy.

When you were so busy looking at her lips, trying to figure out when the right moment to kiss her was, you didn’t notice her take your phone out of your pocket, plug a flash drive into the charging slot, and return it back to your pocket in record time.

As you carry her in the elevator, your face buried in her breasts while she slips a tiny audio recorder into the pocket of your blazer. Through the fog of pure lust for you, Natasha struggles to but succeeds in making a mental map of your apartment. Where your office is, how many computers you have.

After numerous orgasms, she’s sufficiently fucked your brains out and cuddled with you long enough for you to pass out into an impossibly deep slumber, she gets up and heads into your office. She doesn’t need more than five minutes to hack into your devices and steal all the data saved on them. She chuckles to herself at how easy the task is; if she had known it would’ve been this simple and enjoyable, she would’ve come after you a long time ago.

Natasha gathers all her things and excuses herself from your apartment without a good-bye.

***********************************************************************

DAY 2

When you wake up the next morning, your mind a haze from the absolute debauchery that occurred the previous night. You rub your eyes and roll over, finding yourself naked and alone in bed. There is a deep soreness in your body, in almost every muscle, and some you haven’t felt for a long time. Natasha’s scent of vanilla and cherry lingers, but she’s nowhere to be found.

“Fuck,” you grumble, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. It’s been blowing up with notifications, which is a little unusual, but you assume it’s mostly from friends still congratulating you on your promotion. You open a text from your best friend and work partner, Tony.

From Tony: You fucked up, dude.

He included a link to a TMZ article. You click on it, half-wondering if it’ll send you to some troll site. The headline reads:

New CEO of Envy Industries Y/N spotted getting cozy with Black Widow Corp. heiress Natasha Romanoff 

Everything clicks to you now.

“Oh, fuck.”

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

AN: Click here for Part 2!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[tetragonia]

In Sync

Rafe Cameron x F!Pogue!Reader

warning: 18+, smut, consensual sex, unprotected, foreplay, virgin reader (implied?), and yeah it's just all that. also no mention of (y/n)

words: 1k

note: this is a continuation from this fic where Rafe and reader were in an enemies-to-lovers situation, but you can read this fic separately since it's just them doing it for the first time after getting together

A Wave of Feelings (pt 1) | In Sync (pt 2)

You would laugh at yourself a month ago for the current situation.

You, a Pogue, slept with a Kook? And let alone the Rafe Cameron? The one who used to yell and throw remarks at you? The one who always got into a heated argument with you? 

You couldn’t even bear to be in the same room with him and look at yourself now.

Laying down beside him, making out for the first time since twenty minutes ago with the blond. You could feel Rafe’s strong arms, how big and sturdy it was. You could smell his cologne, a perfect mixture of earthy vetiver, refreshing citrus notes, and salty sea breeze. It evoked the rugged beauty of Rafe, how reckless and impulsive he’d be, but also passionate and vulnerable.

You trembled at his touch, as Rafe kissed you harder. Your hand naturally, slowly reaching down, tracing his lower abdomen and making him twitch under your touch. You could hear a soft grunt coming from his lips, his breath becoming heavier. Your hand slipped under his pants, stroking slowly. Rafe let out a soft groan in pleasure, his hand gently petting the swell of your breast.

You gasped at the sudden pleasure. Butterflies washed your belly and you whimpered at the sensation of it. Desire flooded both of you that night.

“Oh, you stroke better than myself, Princess,” he said with a huff, before moaning louder because you felt the urge to stroke harder and faster. “You’re so good, Princess. Don’t stop.”

Rafe breathed heavily, kissing you harder. He bit your lips, touching his forehead on yours. “Oh, fuck. You’re so good,” he shuddered. 

You stroke him hard and constantly, wiggling beside him. In between kisses, you couldn’t help but to moan as Rafe’s strong fingers brushed your nipple.

“I’m so close, Princess.”

It was not your first time together, but you always shuddered from the sensation. It felt warm on your hand, dripping to your wrist. You smiled when Rafe put half of his weight on her, panting. 

“You’re so good,” he whispered before pushing you gently to the bed. He now towered over you, fully stripped of his pants. His hands softly helped Val to undo her shirt, throwing it to the floor as they don’t need it anymore for now.

You started to breathe heavily as adrenaline took you. 

Slowly, Rafe got down, kissing your breast and closed his mouth around a nipple. His tongue swirled around yours, gently biting and sucking it. You gasped and shut your eyes tightly, fingers crawling Rafe’s bare shoulder.

“Rafe!”

You couldn’t help but cry his name. It was insane. He was insane.

“Yes, Princess?”

Rafe’s right hand traced your chest and belly and you shivered. He continued, finding a soft spot on your clit and rubbing it softly.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, unable to let out a full word. You tried so hard not to scream, biting your lower lip as he worked faster.

“Yeah? Do you like it?” Rafe asked, kissing your jaw and then your neck. He buried his face on the crook of your neck, moaning your name softly, “Gosh, you’re so wet, Princess.”

And it just flooded, you were down all over him. Bad.

“Good girl,” Rafe smiled, kissing your lips gently before he got up and spread your legs. He let you breath out first, letting out a whimper and a pleasure moan.

“You’re so beautiful,” he continued. He left you speechless.

You could see his handsome features from the dim light. Rafe exhaled, taking the view. You laid naked in front of him–under him. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he said in disbelief. “How did I miss this? How did I throw arguments when I could’ve just thrown myself at you?”

You chuckled, feeling the same. These past years, all you and Rafe exchanged were arguments and hatred. How you hated him so much, so much that you only thought of him. How you both eventually found each other in ways you couldn’t explain. How deep your connection actually was.

Rafe touched his cock, rubbing it slowly with his saliva. You gulped.

“It’s huge, Rafe,” you let out a shaky breath when Rafe put himself between your thighs. He started to caress yours with his fingers, before he brushed your fold with his tip softly. 

You moaned, “Rafe–”

“It’s going to hurt a little,” he said softly, as gentle as he could. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

Then Rafe pushed it gently, slowly letting himself relax inside her. The anticipation made you squirm and held the sheet tightly, suppressing another whimper.

“Rafe!” a moan slipped out of your mouth, screaming his name in pleasure and pain. “I have never taken anyone before.”

Your eyes were shut, back arching.

“Eyes on me, Princess.”

You tried to open your eyes, looking directly at him. Shivers went down your spine, it felt so good.

“Oh, you’re so tight,” Rafe let out a soft grunt as he started to hump his hips towards yours. His hands were everywhere, you were not surprised anymore.

Rafe can be rough, but this time he was very gentle.

“Yes,” you gasped. “Don’t stop. Please. Please.”

Rafe lowered his body, still humping. His mouth searched for your nipple, as he licked and swirled it softly. Rafe kept sucking, biting and leaving red marks on it. Chills ran down your spine when he humped faster.

“Yeah? Do you like it, baby?” Rafe asked you as you tried to take his hard cock.  You closed her eyes in pleasure, still unable to answer.

“Answer me, Princess.”

“Y–Yes, please,” you pleaded. He was so good. You clenched around his cock, and another groan slipped from him. He’d be surprised how your bones didn’t break with your back arching high like that.

“You’re so wet for me, Princess. You’re so good,” he kept reassuring you as your head spinned with pleasure and desire. You both moved in sync, as you could feel his cock twitched hard inside you.

“Oh, I’m going to come,” his voice was deep and breathless, as he spurted on the bare skin of your stomach. Rafe moaned, loud, losing breath. He jerked and it spread all over your tummy, some was on the sheet. It was intense and addicting.

“Oh, fuck. Orgasm never felt this good,” Rafe lost himself in pleasure, shutting his eyes before bending down and kissing your lips. “You’re such a good girl.”

You smiled. “I wish we’d be fucking instead of fighting all those times.”

[lvnleah]

011. | Beach days

word count: 1.6k

find the masterlist here!

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March 9th 2024 | 36 + 2 days pregnant.

“Jesus Christ, how much stuff did you pack!” Leah playfully groaned as she rolled your suitcase in, Keira following closely behind her.

You shrugged and laughed as you poured yourself a glass of water, “Just enough to last me while we’re here!”

Leah shook her head, Keira laughing behind her, “Babe, we’re here two days, not two weeks!”

“Oh c’mon, Le!” Keira said to her best friend, “Y/N’s never been a light packer and now she’s pregnant she’s obviously going to need more stuff!”

“Keira‘s right, babe.” You smiled, “I do need more stuff now I’m pregnant because you know I can’t decide anything!”

“These are going to be two days of hell with you two ganging up on me,” Leah muttered under her breath.

Leah had the rare weekend off as she didn’t have a game so you and her decided to fly out to Spain to watch Keira play. She was playing away against Sociedad and you’d booked a little beach house for a few days so you could all spend time together.

Leah rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. Despite her complaints, you knew she was happy to be here as it would probably be the last time in a while you’d get to go away together before your baby boy arrived.

The beach house was perfect, nestled just a stone’s throw away from the ocean. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore could be heard from the kitchen.

“Alright, let's get settled in before we head out to explore,” Leah suggested, eyeing the towering stack of luggage. “I’ll take the big one to the bedroom.”

“I’ll help!” Keira chirped, grabbing a smaller bag and following Leah down the narrow hallway.

It wasn’t often you all got to be together like this, with Leah and Keira’s demanding schedule it was hard to arrange trips together like you used to. This trip was a rare gem, and you were determined to make the most of it.

A few minutes later, Leah and Keira returned, slightly flushed from the exertion. “Okay, rooms are sorted. Who’s up for a walk on the beach?” Leah asked, already slipping off her shoes.

You grinned, “I’m in! Let me just grab my things and we can go.”

Suddenly, a sharp tightening sensation gripped your abdomen. You winced, placing a hand on your belly as your other one gripped the counter.

"Y/N, you okay?" Leah asked, noticing the change in your expression.

You took a deep breath, trying to relax. "I think it's just Braxton Hicks," you said, trying to sound reassuring but feeling the discomfort all the same.

It soon passed and you were able to carry on. You’d been having practice contractions for the past couple of weeks, they felt like mild period cramps but your midwife reassured you it was normal.

As the three of you strolled down to the beach, the sand warmed beneath your feet. Leah and Keira were chatting about their upcoming matches. You knew these two days would pass in a blink, but for now, you were perfectly happy right where you were.

The beach was almost deserted, with a few scattered tourists soaking up the late afternoon sun. You found three spare sun beds and laid out a blanket, sitting down with a sigh of relief.

“Would you be alright if I went in the sea with Kei?” Leah asked, her voice soft.

You nodded. “I’m good, Le. I'm a little tired, so I’ll just read my book.”

She kissed the top of your head. “Sounds good, shout for me if you need me okay?”

“I will,” you agreed, watching Keira as she waved for Leah to join her. “Go be big kids like you both are!”

Not even thirty minutes later, you find yourself being smothered by a dripping wet Leah. “Leah!” You screeched, “Jesus Christ!”

Leah laughed, her wet hair clinging to her face. “Just wanted to cool you off a bit,” she teased, giving you a cheeky grin.

You playfully swatted at her, trying to shield yourself from the cold droplets. “Well, mission accomplished! Now get off me before you soak everything!”

Keira joined in the laughter, drenching water from her hair as she approached. “You know she won’t stop until you’re completely drenched, right?”

“I’m starting to realise that,” you said, struggling to keep a straight face as Leah continued to hover over you.

“Alright, alright, I’ll behave,” Leah conceded, stepping back but not before planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “But only because I love you.”

“You better!” you replied, still grinning. “Now, go dry off and let me enjoy my book in peace.”

“Sure you don’t want to come in?” Leah asked you.

You shook your head, patting your belly. "I'm good here, thanks. I'll stick to the sand for now."

Leah kissed your forehead and smiled, running back to the water as she raced Keira. You settled back into your sunbed, opening your book and trying to distract yourself in the story. However, the discomfort in your lower back kept pulling you out of it. Shifting positions didn't seem to help, and after a while, you gave up on reading.

You watched Leah and Keira splashing around in the water, their laughter carrying over the waves. It was heartwarming to see them so carefree, but you couldn't ignore the growing ache in your body. Being this far along in your pregnancy, every little thing seemed to take more effort and cause more discomfort.

Finally, you let out a frustrated sigh and sat up, rubbing your belly. The thought of another few weeks feeling like this was almost unbearable. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away, not wanting to ruin the moment for Leah and Keira.

But Leah had already noticed. She jogged out of the water, concern etched on her face. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, kneeling beside you.

"I'm just... I'm so tired of being pregnant, Leah," you admitted, your voice cracking. "I feel huge, uncomfortable, and everything hurts. I just want our baby to be here already."

Leah pulled you into a gentle hug. "I know, babe," she whispered. "It's almost over. You've been so strong, and you're doing an amazing job."

Keira, sensing the shift in mood, joined you both. "Hey, it's okay," she said softly. "It's hard, but you're almost there. And you're going to be an incredible mum."

You sniffled, leaning into Leah's embrace. "I just feel so... helpless sometimes. Like I can't do anything without getting exhausted."

Leah kissed your temple. "You're not helpless. You're growing a whole new life inside you.”

“How about we head back to the house and make some dinner?” Keira suggested, “A good meal and some rest might help."

You nodded and Leah helped you to your feet, and the three of you made your way back up the beach. As you walked, Leah kept an arm around you, steadying you with every step. Once back at the house, Leah ordered a pizza whilst you settled on the sofa and Keira cut you some fruit up.

“Here,” Keira said, handing you a plate of fruit, “Le’s just ordering a pizza.”

You accepted the plate with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Kei. This looks great."

Leah came back into the room, holding her phone. "Pizza's on its way. Should be here in about twenty minutes."

You nodded and leaned back into the cushions, trying to make yourself comfortable. "Perfect.”

Leah sat down beside you and Keira laid down on the long bit of the l-shaped sofa. The pair bickered over choosing which movie to watch before finally settling on Notting Hill.

When the doorbell rang, Leah jumped up to answer it. The smell of pizza filled the house as she returned with a couple of boxes. She set them down on the coffee table and began to dish out slices for everyone.

As you took a bite, the comfort of the warm pizza was a distraction from your earlier discomfort. The three of you chatted and laughed, enjoying each other’s company. Leah and Keira’s laughter made you forget about the aches for a while.

After dinner, you all settled in for another movie, with Leah curling up beside you and Keira picking out pitch perfect this time. You felt a bit better just being with the people you loved, sharing a quiet evening.

Leah noticed you yawning, “Want to head to bed soon, babe?”

You nodded, feeling a little embarrassed about how exhausted you were. “Yeah, I think I’ll go to bed early tonight.”

As the movie came to an end, Leah helped you up from the couch and guided you to the bedroom. She made sure you were comfortable before heading to have a shower.

When Leah came out of the shower, her hair damp and her face freshly washed, she found you struggling to pull your hair up into a ponytail. Your movements were slow and your face reflected the frustration of the day's discomforts.

"Hey, let me help," Leah offered, moving behind you and taking the hair tie from your fingers. Her touch was gentle as she gathered your hair, smoothing it back with ease. "There we go, all set."

You sighed in relief, "Thanks, Le. My arms are just aching so much! I don’t know what I’d do with you.”

She kissed the top of your head, her lips lingering for a moment. "You'd do just fine.”

You slipped into bed, pulling the covers up and settling into the soft pillows. Leah joined you a moment later, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

"You okay?" Leah asked softly, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

"Yeah," you murmured, closing your eyes. "Just tired and ready for Finley to be here."

Leah rubbed soft circles on your hips. "Soon, babe. Really soon.”

[ohdeersthings]

Listen

Ao'nung x F!Deaf!Metkayina!Reader

Summary: Ao'nung has loved you since childhood.

Warning: Fluff, Ao'nung is a jerk to everyone but reader, some angst (I love emotional revelation of feelings), characters are aged up 18+ but no warnings here! Ronal ships reader and Ao'nung,

Note: was a request from @keyratch hope you enjoy it!

~.~

Growing up, you always knew you were different. You couldn't hear the ocean waves, couldn't listen to the music of your clan for celebrations. You couldn't even harmonize with your mother as she sings to lull you to sleep.

Being born deaf, your parents tried so hard to pray to Eywa for a sign. The Tsahìk, Ronal, tried every herb and technique she knew, but nothing could change who you were.

What Eywa had decided for you to be.

You never blamed Eywa though, for the Great Mother had blessed you to feel a connection to her. You could feel her in the sand; the warmth of the sun that she blessed you with, the coolness of the ocean as you swam to admire the creatures she's created.

Even as a small child you had been drawn to the beauty of the Pandora.

The smallest sea shells you would collect and braid into your hair, stringing some together to make a necklace, bracelet, or head peice. The brightest floral you would gather to present to friends and family, just because the beauty of them made you think of others.

Ao'nung had only been eight when he met you for the first time. While training with his father on spear throwing he had caught sight of you collecting sea shells.

He was so distracted by you, he grabbed the spear wrong and cut his finger. Letting out a small hiss of pain, he instantly sucked on it, causing his father to gaze at him and then at you. Tonowari couldn't help but chuckle, "I see the silent beauty has caught your eye," Ao'nung was confused by his father's words, but quickly denied having even spotted you.

"Well that's too bad, because here she comes right now," sure enough you had seen the leader with his son, Ao'nung and had started over in their direction when you saw the big was hurt.

Ao'nung could only feel himself freeze as you closed the distance fast, suddenly reaching out to grab his hand as he tried to back away,

"H-hey! What are you doing?!" Ao'nung flinched as you pressed on his finger, the one he'd cut being too caught up looking at you. You never said anything, just brought out a healing leaf from your hip pouch and wrapped his finger quickly and efficiently.

"Thank you," he mumbled, you smiled and let go of his hand, signing to him, 'Would you like to play after training?' It had puzzled him why you didn't just ask out loud, but after looking to his father for assurance, he nodded to you causing you to smile and nod, turning back the way you'd come and headed away.

"Father, why didn't she just ask me?" Ao'nung questioned, looking up at Tomowari who smiled sadly at him, "she is deaf my son, she cannot speak for she never learned how, she cannot hear you," Ao'nung didn't feel any different towards you, maybe more curious, but he never felt like you were weird.

~.~

After that day many years ago, Ao'nung had grown, and so did his love for you. What started out as amazement and adoration as children, had since grown into feeling as if you were the only one for him.

The way you helped his sister with day to day chores, such grace and beauty weaving baskets and collecting herbs for his mother. The complete definition of selfless as you taught the children of the clan their sign, who else but you with your patience and grace.

The tingles you left on his body when you would tap his hand, shoulder, arm, anything to get his attention. You left him yearning for your attention day and night. Left him in agonizing pain at the thought of having you with him under the stars but couldn't.

Yourself however, would be a prize to any fine young Na'vi, but to your own self image you were at the bottom of the food chain. Your biggest insecurity being your deafness. You would never hear your mates words of love and comfort, would never hear the giggles of your own future children should Great Mother bless you with any.

You never had anyone express interest in you, although Ao'nung made sure of that, not that you knew. He always glared, growled or warned any man who looked in your direction. He made sure to linger a hand on your waist while talking, a smug look over his shoulder at the hunters who had tried to talk to you, a smirk at the Ilu keepers who tried to get to close.

When the Sullys had arrived, you had been busy helping Ronal with her duties as she was trusting you to take over while she got ready to give birth.

You didn't get to see Tsireya and Ao'nung as often as they were busy with teaching the new comers the traditions and expectations of the clan.

'(Y/N) go fetch Ao'nung, he should be down on the beach,' Ronal requested, you nodded, standing from your sitting position and heading out of the Marui, starting your trek to the beach.

You had found a few flowers on your way, taking a moment to pluck them from the ground and arranged them nicely. Maybe Ao'nung would like something to help brighten his mood.

Stopping once you reached the beach, you felt your eyes widen in disbelief as Ao'nung and his friends were surrounding Kiri, pointing at her and laughing. Kiri was clearly uncomfortable and trying to walk away, luckily Lo'ak came and started to intercept the boys, only they turned their hateful ways onto him.

You felt your fists clench up, nervously twisting the flowers. You started walking in that direction, Neteyam showing up as well from beside you, making yourself known too.

Ao'nungs ears pressed back, his body feeling hot with embarrassment that you'd caught him being rude to someone.

"Oh look, big brother to the rescue-" Ao'nung reached his hand out, silencing his friend who bowed his head obediently. "I need you to respect my sister from now on," Neteyam threatened, his eyes glaring into Ao'nung who nodded, trying to ease the anxiety in his chest as you approached too.

You tapped Kiris hand, the girl turning to you as you looked her over, as she tried to calm you down, 'I'm fine, no harm done,' she assured, you face turning into one of doubt but giving up in the end.

The three siblings went to walk away, but Lo'ak suddenly turned around and went back to Ao'nung, his smirk and quirked eyebrow making you upset a little. Why was he acting this way? Was he really this mean to them?

Ao'nung didn't know what had happened when Lo'ak punched him, one second he was standing and the next on the floor with his friends helping him up. They all jumped Lo'ak who held his ground to the best of his abilities, but soon found his brother Neteyam jumping in to help him.

You gasped, hands covering your mouth in disbelief, the flowers falling into the sand forgotten. Why were they doing this? 'Kiri, we need to stop them' you told her, but even she could only look on in a mix of horror and laughter.

Deciding that enough was enough, you inserted yourself into the fight, Ao'nungs friends quickly backing away as you pulled them off.

Neteyam hadn't seen you enter the fight, when he felt his shoulder get touched he quickly turned and went to punch the person, barely being able to stop himself before he hit you.

You had flinched inward, arms raised quickly to protect yourself, eyes shut incase of pain. "(Y/N)!" Ao'nung threw himself to you, shoving Neteyam out of the way, his hands gently grabbing yours to bring them down.

You squeaked, the cutest sound Ao'nung had ever heard, and opened your eyes to see Ao'nung checking you for injuries despite his cheek being bruised and lip busted. His eyes held fear and worry, hands moving from your arms to gently hold your face.

An adult nearby had brought his father and Toruk Makto, but he didn't care for the shouts that were happening, he could only focus on you. He brought his hands into view, 'You okay?' Ao'nung questioned, though your face contorted into worry as you held his face, feeling bad when he flinched from your thumb brushing his cheek.

He grabbed your hand and held it at his side as he turned to Neteyam, "Don't you ever touch her again!" If it hadn't been for his father pulling him away with you in tow, he would've attacked the oldest sibling.

"Maybe don't start things your girlfriend tries to finish!" Lo'ak yelled back, getting dragged away by his own father.

Upon entering the Marui, his mother hit him upside the head, "skxqwng! You brought (Y/n) into this?! I pray for the resilience to not break your bones!" Ao'nung averted his mother and fathers gaze, his head down as he couldn't even look to you either. Ashamed you had caught him at his worst moment.

"I leave (Y/n) to take care of your wounds, Great Mother help you find some sense!" Ronal hissed, Tonowari leading her out of the Marui to give you two some privacy.

You slowly walked over, placing a hand on his arm, Ao'nung letting you lead him to the mat and both of you sitting down facing eachother.

'What were you thinking?' You inquired, waiting for his reply as you began to mix a paste together. 'I wasn't thinking, but they deserved it, freaks all of them' he huffed, sucking it back in when you roughly applied the paste to his cheek.

His eyes found yours as you stared at him with hurt, 'What does that make me then? I cannot hear, I cannot speak well, they can communicate freely, I have to look for eyes and attention,'

Ao'nung felt his throat constrict, his hands clamy. You were so beautiful in his eyes, but the way he treated them made you think ill of yourself and that's not want he wanted.

You looked down, eyes glossy from unshed tears. His hand on your chin made you look at him, your lip trembling as your ears pressed back.

Ao'nung let go and signed only one word, but it made your body erupt in flames.

'Beautiful'

~.~

Since the incident with the boys on the beach, Ao'nung tried to be kind in your presence when the sullys were around but when the opportunity to trick Lo'ak revealed itself, he couldn't help it.

When he returned though and found you looking at him with those eyes again. Eyes filled with pain and now disappointment, he knew had to do the right thing.

'I'm sorry,' he apologized, finding you alone by the beach later that night. You turned from him, arms crossed. You weren't going to look at him or reply.

He fell to his knees in front of you, grasping at your hands desperately. You huffed, eyes glaring into him. Ao'nung used to pray he would never see that day you gave him that look, but after what he'd done to Lo'ak he could say he deserved it.

Hands trailing from your hands down to your elbows, he slowly let go and began to speak, "I'm sorry, I know I've been stupid and they don't deserve that, I'm not sure what I was thinking," Ao'nung kept his eyes trained on yours, watching you look exhausted.

"Why risk the danger? What if he'd gotten hurt? Or worse, you," you felt your lips pull back in a snarl, though he could only find pleasure in the fierceness of your face. His heart beat fast knowing you cared about him.

"I wish you would think with this," you placed your hand on his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat, "not with this," you playfully pushed his forehead, a smile appearing on your lips. You couldn't stay mad at him, not when he smiled at you as softly as he did now.

He grasped your hand, bringing it back to his chest. You felt your own speed up to match his, both of you filled with deep affection for one another, not that the other knew.

You both stared at eachother for what felt like hours, yet only a few minutes had passed, just enjoying eachothers company.

When you had broken out of your daydream however, you quickly pulled your hand away and stood up, eyes darting everywhere but him as you shakily signed, "we shouldn't be doing this, I have to go,"

Ao'nung couldn't stand fast enough when you pulled away, tripping over the sand as you ran. Everything had just been perfect, what had happened?

~.~

You helped Ronal to sit, her stomach slowly getting bigger as the days went on. "Baby is good?" You wondered, a grin on your face of excitement as she nodded, her own smile gracing her features.

'Baby is strong, maybe a boy like Ao'nung,' she replied, you nodding in agreement, 'Ao'nung differently is strong,'

'Yes, he will be a great Olo'eyktan, if only he hurry and choose his Tsahìk,' she let her eyes slip to your figure out of the corner of her sight, seeing you quickly look down and away. Not out of embarrassment it seemed, but out of disappointment.

Ronal frowned, she did not like seeing you so hurt, especially by her own child, lest he be stupid enough to do it.

Ronal placed her hand on your cheek, bringing your face back up to make eye contact with her, 'why do you look so sad? What has happened?'

You tried to brush her off, 'it's nothing, I'm sure whoever he chooses will make a lovely Tsahìk,' you began to ramble, hands moving quickly, 'Ney`ite is the best diver, Alyara is known to sing beautifully, from what I've seen and been told,'

'He deserves someone who can help him feel better on rough days, someone who can actually listen and help with his problems, who loves and cherishes him as he is,'

Ronal tapped your hand, causing you to heat up in realization, you'd been rambling for too long. 'Someone, like you?' She quirked her brow, a knowing smirk on her face.

You shook your head, eyes feeling glossy with tears, 'what do I have to offer him?' You felt a hiccup erupt in your throat from trying to hold in your sobs, 'I cannot listen to his problems, I cannot comfort our children with words when crying, no one would look to me, Eywa may love me as she created me, but surely Ao'nung loves another,'

Ronal felt her eyes catch the sight of a figure standing behind you. Ao'nung could only stand frozen as he saw what you thought of yourself. He's never loved anyone like he loves you, and it's his fault for making you think otherwise.

Ronal grasped your hands firmly, shaking her head at you. Ronal reached a hand for Ao'nung who walked over, his shadow startling you as you looked upwards, his face looking hurt by your own tears.

Ronal placed your hand in his, his fingers gripping your own softly but firm, like a silent promise to never let go.

The Tsahìk bowed in exiting the Marui, leaving both of you alone.

Ao'nung knelt to face you, your cheeks hot with humiliation that he had to see you like this. You tried to look elsewhere but he placed his hand on your cheek, turning your face towards him.

He let go, feeling a moment of Deja Vu as he thought back to two nights ago by the water. When you both had been just as close in the sand.

"You are not less than anyone here," he signed, feeling his heart excelerate with emotion.

'(Y/n), I don't need to hear your voice to know your words are strong and kind, I don't need your words of comfort when your touches are enough,' he placed your hand on his chest, just as he did those nights ago. He hoped you would feel his heart that's beating full of love for you.

You could only feel a bizarre rush of emotions, anger at yourself for letting Ao'nung find out this way, fear in what is to come, yet, love from knowing he felt the same as you did.

'I'm sorry you did not see yourself as adequate when you are more than I could ever dream, the love you hold for our clan speaks words where your lips may fail,'

You felt your lips quiver, tears falling down your face as you tried to hold yourself together.

'I see you, (Y/n), and I would love for you to become my Tsahìk, my mate,'

You laughed, 'I would love to spend my life with you, I see you, Ao'nung,' you pressed your forehead to his, his own tear or two slipping from his eye as you both enjoyed this moment of peace together.

He raised both hands to your face, cupping your head as he brought your lips to his, the soft, plush feeling of your lips nearly driving him mad with desire. Your own hand finding home on his chest and shoulder as you felt weak from lack of air.

Pulling away, you made him stand up with you, his eyes showing curiosity. You smirked at him, 'Wanna go somewhere more private?' Ao'nungs silence spoke for itself as he dragged you out of the Marui, right past his parents who had a sudden look of realization.

"Oh Great Mother," Ronal sighed exasperated, "Looks like our youngest will be close in age to our grandchild," Tonowari mumbled, flinching from Ronal who began to hit him from saying such words, "skxqwng!"

~.~

[star-girl69]

Apocalypse

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: a day of capture the flag, and clarisse finds out you’re ashamed of your scars.

a/n: love love love love love also from this ask

Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex

warnings: shitty ending but IDC!!!!!!!, hurt/comfort, more hurt/comfort, god i need to be put down, insecure y/n, scars and all that stuff, possessive clarisse, protective clarisse, soft clarisse, probs ooc clarisse, yeah, swearing, mentions of food, mac n’ cheese is y/n’s fav but you can just pretend if you’re a weirdo and don’t like mac n’ cheese, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

“I don’t get it,” he laughs. “How can you be a daughter of Aphrodite and still have those ugly scars all over you?”

You pretend like you don’t hear him, leaning your head back against the tree, staring up at the blue sky through the gaps.

Him and his two friends have been teasing you the entire 20 minutes you’ve been tied up to this tree, captured by the blue team.

That was horribly embarrassing, but you were doing your best to ignore it- instead doing your best to pray to whatever God would listen that Clarisse would win for the red team.

It’s just plain stupid. He’s been saying the same thing over and over again for 20 minutes- can he at least come up with something original?

Besides, you don’t see where he gets off from this. It’s not like you give any reaction, or even look at him. The most you give him is the occasional squeeze of your hands- imagining his neck under them.

“Maybe she’s forsaken you,” he hums, kicking at your limp leg.

You finally look up at him. You’re sitting on the ground, arms at your sides, back pressed to the tree and rope digging tightly into your chest.

“Maybe your mother gave up on you after the second scar,” he says, staring straight into your eyes. “And then you’ve just gotten uglier and uglier ever since.”

You have scars all over your body. Clarisse has them too, and she shows them off proudly, a dramatic story for each one. You have a horrible memory, so you don’t remember all of them- but the tiny one on your jawline is from you accidentally tripping with scissors in your hand as a kid.

Clarisse had laughed hysterically when you told her about that one, pulling you closer when you pouted, saying something about how she was going to carry all scissors for you in the future.

The one on your collarbone is from sparring gone awry. Clarisse likes to kiss that one- it’s silvery smooth, she says some bullshit about how it feels like your lips.

The big one on your arm is from some clawed monster getting a bit too close to you- slashing at your arm and leaving a permanent tattoo of your failure to kill the monster. Or at least successfully run away.

Then, there’s all the tiny ones you can’t remember.

The boy, you seriously don’t even know his name, looks at you. There’s fire in his eyes, he wants a fight, but you won’t give him one. Especially not when your stomach squeezes inside of you in a way that makes you feel like you might throw up.

The conch mercifully blows, even as you feel sick- you don’t want to let his words effect you. But you just can’t help it.

He gives you an odd look, like he’s contemplating just leaving you out there- but eventually releases you. You stand up, dusting yourself off, grabbing your sword from where it was discarded on the ground.

“Good game!” you say, smiling brightly, but you can’t even pretend to be nice to him, so it tapers off into a laugh. He glares at you, but you’re already jogging through the woods, eager to see Clarisse again.

—-

The blue flag waves proudly above a sea of orange camp t-shirts and red helmets, so you smile widely and skip down to the beach. Your team has formed this huge pit of people, everyone congratulating each other, shouting and celebrating. You stick your sword in the sand as you head into it- one person on your mind.

“Clarisse!” you shout, heading straight towards the middle. “Clarisse!”

She actually rips apart two people hugging to meet you.

“Baby!” she says, even when the two people give her dirty looks, pushing past them and into your arms. “We won!” she giggles, kissing your cheek.

“I know,” you smile, digging your face into her neck. She holds you there for just a moment, hand on the back of your head, relishing in the feeling of her girlfriend running to her after a long day.

“Are you tired?” she fusses, squeezing your waist. “What happened? Did you get hurt? I knew I should have made you stay with me-”

“No, Clar,” you laugh, taking your face out of the hiding spot that is her neck and pressing your noses together. “I got captured,” you sigh.

Her fingers wind through your hair.

She scans the crowd, like she might just beat up any random member of the blue team.

“If they don’t learn to not fucking touch you I am going to make them learn.”

“Guard dog,” you tease her.

“And?” she says, leaning down to kiss the scar she loves kissing, right at the beginning of your collarbone. It makes you freeze. “You love it,” she mumbles against your skin.

You can’t think of an answer.

When you stay silent, she looks up at you, confusion in her face.

“What? You look… sad. Did something happen? What aren’t you telling me?”

“N-nothing,” you breathe, because it’s just embarrassing to know you let his words get to you like this.

“You can tell me anything,” she says, searching your eyes.

“I know.”

The conch blows, making you jump at the sudden loud noise. “Lunch!” someone shouts, and Clarisse settles for just grabbing your hand, walking with you back to camp.

—-

You stop by your cabins first, taking off your armor and switching into clean camp shirts. You hesitate for a second, but eventually put on a thin long-sleeved shirt under the orange.

You take extra care in reapplying your makeup, making sure to cover the scar on your collarbone and your jaw, and once everything is as covered as it’s gonna get you set out.

Clarisse is waiting for you outside the Aphrodite cabin, smiling as you open the door, applying lipstick with one hand. She grabs your hand and helps you down the steps, admiring the way you’re so intensely focused on getting the perfect lip, even without a mirror.

It’s not like you have to try very hard, but still.

“I don’t mind waiting a second longer,” she says, bringing you closer by the waist as you tube the lipstick and stick it in your pocket.

“You’re a hungry demon after capture the flag.”

“Yeah,” she says, not really trying to deny it.

You smile and lean against her, pressing a short kiss to your lips.

“Oh, do I look pretty now?” she asks, rubbing in the lipstick that came off onto her lips.

“Always,” you smile.

Her eyes focus in on the green sleeves pulled up to your wrists.

“It’s, like, 100 degrees, baby. You’re gonna boil.”

You frown and shake your head. “No, it’s not that bad. I’m cold.”

She looks at you oddly, but seems to begrudgingly accept it, hand against your forehead as she brushes your hair back. You make it into the buffet style line for lunch, grabbing plates, Clarisse quickly piling hers with a cheeseburger and a hot dog, making you laugh.

“You’re so hungry, all the time,” you mutter when she gives you a dirty look.

“I work out all the time,” she glares. She flexes her arm. “All of this takes a lot of work.”

You stare at her muscles peeking out from just under her sleeves, biting your lip as you quickly look away. She smiles brightly.

“Uh huh, that’s what I thought. You love these muscles, don’t judge me.”

You make your way down the line, scanning the trays of food.

“Ooh,” Clarisse coos, “They have your fave, pretty thing.”

She scoops probably the biggest portion of mac n’ cheese you’ve ever seen in your life, slapping it onto your plate with a smile.

You gape at the now almost empty tray, remembering the still long line behind you. Hopefully there’s another one somewhere.

“Clarisse, we should save some for everyone else.”

She seems actually confused by that statement.

“Uh, yeah, no. My girl gets the best.”

“Clarisse-” but you’ve reached the end of the line and she heads off to a table. You follow her, begrudgingly, because you really do covet this mac n’ cheese like it’s ambrosia.

—-

By the time the night rolls around, you’ve retreated into the blankets of your bed, feeling much safer completely covered up. You’re supposed to be going to the bonfire- all of your siblings have come over and bugged you at least once about going, but you’ve refused them all.

Finally, all of your siblings leave in their pretty but revealing outfits- after today, you don’t think you could ever wear something like that again.

The door to your cabin creaks open.

“Y/N?”

You make a mumbled sound in the back of your throat that’s supposed to resemble “I’m here” but Clarisse is already walking over to you and pulling the blanket off of you.

“Silena told me you were staying back. Why?”

You pull the blanket back up over yourself.

“I’m jus’ tired.”

“Okay…” she says, sitting down on the bed. She puts her warm hand to your forehead. “Are you sick? Do you have a headache?”

“No, Clar, I’m fine.”

“I’m confused,” she huffs. “You love the bonfires. Something is obviously wrong, why won’t you tell me?”

“I’m just tired, Clarisse, that’s all.”

“Fine,” she says. “I can be tired too.”

She kicks off her shoes and climbs into bed with you, under the blankets, chest pressed against your back.

“I’m not good at this. You know that,” she sighs after a second. “And I wish I was. But I do know something’s wrong. And I really don’t know for the life of me what it is, but I really want to know. I really want to help you.”

She traces her fingertips up and down your arms, tracing over the silvery scar from the monster- and you involuntarily jerk away.

“Oh,” she says. She’s painfully observant. She notices everything. She notices you pulling away when she touches your scars. “Your scars.”

Tears well in your eyes before you can stop them.

“W-when I got captured, this boy kept teasing me. And I tried not to let it bother me, I tried not to give him a reaction… but I just- what if I’m not worthy of my mother anymore? It’s embarrassing. I know. But I…”

“Who the fuck said that to you?”

She sits up, eyes blazing, like she can just imagine it and whoever hurt you will suddenly feel her wrath.

You turn around so you’re facing her, laughing.

“I don’t even know his stupid name,” you mutter.

She looks down at you, at the tears spilling from your pretty eyes.

“I’ll kill him later,” she mumbles, settling back down and kissing the corner of your cheek. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, baby. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I’ve never met your mother, of course, so I can say that without getting us both struck down by doves, or something.”

You swat her chest.

“I’ll kill you with doves, watch me.”

She hums. “Probably. Okay, stop. You’re getting me off topic.”

You roll your eyes.

“I’m not good with my words,” she whispers. “But I hope I show you everyday that you are the only woman I have eyes for. This is, like, really embarrassing… but I’ve planned out our entire lives together. We’re gonna go to to college in Arizona by my mom, we’ll have an apartment off-campus, and after we graduate we’ll get married. I really wanna be married to you. And I don’t care if that’s cheesy, I just really want you to look at the ring I’ll give you and be able to feel all my love. Besides, if you ever want to get away from me, it’ll be a hell of a lot harder.”

“I would never wanna get away from you, Clar,” you smile. “It’s not embarrassing. I wanna go to college in Arizona. I wanna marry you.”

“Good, because you didn’t really have a choice,” she smiles.

“And you’re plenty good with your words.”

“Yeah… okay, I guess. But let me show you, too.”

“What does that even-”

She shuts you up by kissing your lips.

“I love your lips. I love how soft they are, and how they feel so perfect against me.”

She kisses your cheek.

“I like your cheeks for the same reasons.”

Your temple, your forehead, your nose.

“Same reasons,” she smiles.

Finally she ends up at your jawline. She rubs over the scar, taking concealer and foundation with the pad of her thumb.

“And I love this scar. It looks kind of like a C, so everyone knows you’re mine.”

“Freak,” you huff, and she doesn’t have to say it. You both know you love it.

She kisses your neck and talks about how she loves the way you get mad at her for leaving hickeys, the dedication you pour into covering them up before you eventually decide it’s too much effort and let them show.

She kisses the scar on your collarbone.

“I like putting my head here, right under your chin. I can feel your pulse. I can hear you swallow, too, which is weird but also soothing.”

She kisses from your shoulder and down to your arm, skimming past the scar. She kisses the back of your hand and your fingertips.

“I love it when you braid my hair, or just put your hands in my hair for… other reasons.”

“Freak,” you mumble again. “You’re just obsessed with kissing me.”

“True,” she hums, kissing back up to your scar. “I don’t have anything poetic to say about this one. It’s just fucking badass. I mean, you got it when you were 12- you survived what most have been something truly monstrous to leave a scar like this, and that’s all you get? Most of the kids here would have died. Even the ones our age. And you escaped when you were only 12.”

You smile like a lovesick fool. The apocalypse could be going on outside, and you would just be here with Clarisse.

“In conclusion, your beauty is actually life changing. I mean, have you seen me? I become a total softie, just for you. And it’s all because I like seeing that pretty smile on your gorgeous face. But you frown pretty, too, which I didn’t even know was possible- so I win either way.”

You smile and put your hand on her face, kissing her softly.

“Thank you, Clar. For always taking care of me, and reassuring me…”

“It’s quite literally my job,” she smiles. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it.”

“You don’t even trust me, Little Miss Makes-My-Plate-For-Me.”

She laughs and presses her head under your chin, her hair tickling your skin, pressing a kiss to your scar.

“It’s my job,” she smiles. “As your girlfriend and future wife.”

“I love you, Clarisse,” you whisper, a secret just for the two of you. Nothing can have you here. No pain, no suffering.

“I love you too,” she says. “I love you so much, my beautiful, beautiful girl.”

—-

the kid who bullied you walking around with a big ass scar on his cheek the next day 😍😍😍😍😍 no….. no clarisse did not cut him with her spear….. ofc not….

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

[linkemon]

Modern AU 1

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other Genshin Impact headcanons can be found here.

This part contains: Kinich, Mualani and Mavuika.

Kinich

✧ One day a dog stuck to him. On his collar he only had the name: Ajaw. Kinich didn't have the heart to throw him out into the rain and that was a mistake. Since then he has never left him. He is always barking loudly as if he wanted to add something to every statement. When Kinich has guests, he locks him in a separate room and fights so that he doesn't get out in a few minutes.

✧ Kinich is studying botany. He's really good at it. Students in his class say he'll do anything for money. The question is how much money are you willing to spend to have him write a crappy assignment for you or beat up a mean guy (that's a rumor going around...).

✧ In his free time he likes to play Minecraft. Pixel blocks have no secrets for him. He'd be happy to play with you if you have time.

✧ He also likes very extreme climbing. He has been to every possible mountain. However, Kinich never takes his friends there. He always goes on such trips alone.

✧ He is a huge Spider-Man fan. When he was younger, he could be caught with his mask on, pretending to shoot webs.

✧ He keeps a large collection of plants in his room but as he himself says, he does not pay much attention to them.

Mualani

✧ Mualani is a surfer. The sea breeze in her hair and the water surrounding her. That's when she feels alive. On the board, she finds both a literal and a life balance. She will very strongly encourage you to try it. There's nothing better than doing what you love with someone close to you.

✧ She believes in trial and error. You'll fall off the big waves many times but once you get the hang of it, you'll never forget her slightly brutal methods. She has a huge amount of enthusiasm. No matter what field you want to start in, she'll always be rooting for you.

✧ No one knows how it happened but one day she met Kachina on the stairwell and they were inseparable ever since. Even though the girl is much younger than her. They are together practically everywhere and everyone thinks they are sisters, even though they are not related by blood.

✧ Mualani works part-time at a beach goods store. She once found used maracas there, bought them and now takes them out at every opportunity to show them off. She rocks every party, dancing with them.

✧ She loves her aunt very much but she is very sickly. Mualani helps her as much as she can in her spare time.

✧ She will never say no to a bonfire by the sea. If you want to please her, all you have to do is organize one.

Mavuika

✧ Born to be a boss. Owner of a large corporation, which she came to own through her own strength and effort.

✧ A motorcycle enthusiast. She loves to ride through the city streets at night. Her fiery hair seems to light up the darkness around her. Mavuika often spends time this way and you have to like it because she will take you for a ride very often. And without a helmet. All you have to do is hold on to her waist tightly.

✧ She often wears her black outfit, even when there is no obvious reason for it, such as driving. She claims that she looks good in it and it would be a shame to pass up the opportunity to collect a few more compliments. Her most famous flirty technique is to gently slide down her black glasses. 100% effective. Or so she claims.

✧ Mavuika has a whole wall in her room full of trinkets that she got from friends and family. Her loved ones have been dead for quite a while, so she's had a hard time in life. Despite this, she still remembers them and looks at things with a smile. She'll happily tell you about the stories that go with them.

✧ She is very strong. There are rumors that in the evenings she fights with people from local gangs and even the mafia. It is not known how much truth there is in this but it is certain that no one wants to mess with her. She repeats that she does not need protection. She is her own best protection.

[rcmclachlan]

Thin Red Line (bucktommy, 6x11 missing scene)

Me: I'm rewatching "In Another Life" and had a thought. What if Buck met Tommy during his coma dream?

@dadvans: RC I’m going to kill you

+

Between leaving Christopher to wander the hospital hallways like a ghost in search of Eddie for all eternity and doing absolutely nothing to stop Bobby from popping pills like they’re Flintstones vitamins, Buck’s going to single-handedly bankroll every renovation project Dr. Copeland has over the next ten years. 

He wonders what she’ll say when he tells her about this during their next session. She’ll probably just sit back thoughtfully and muse, "You say you were trapped in a world where your biological family loved you but your chosen family had no idea who you were. Tell me more about that, Evan."

It's a moot point unless he manages to get out of here, so he swings the axe up, throws a sneer in his evil doppelgänger's direction, and is about to bring it down as hard as he can when his right arm is suddenly jerked behind him like someone’s trying to pull it out of the socket. 

Startled, he whirls around, but there’s no one there. Even Bizarro Buck is gone. 

An odd pressure tugs at his fingers. For a second, he thinks there’s something wrapped around them. He looks down but he can’t see anything. He can feel it, though. He tests the tensile strength of it by bouncing his hand back and forth, and whatever it is pulls taut when his hand gets close to his body. 

It reminds him of playing tug-o-war on the playground as a kid, except instead of deliberately allowing himself to be yanked off balance so his parents could later fuss over the bloody state of his knees, he begins gathering the palpable nothing in his palm and, with a last look at the tableau of the real him lying in the hospital bed waiting to die, follows it out of the room and back down the hall. 

He comes to a stop in front of a door that looks like all the others. He must’ve missed this one, although he can’t feel dumb about it, because there’s no way in hell he would’ve guessed this was the exit. 

"Take me home," Buck murmurs, opens the door, and walks out—

—onto an outdoor patio. 

He drops his head back with a groan. "Oh, come on."

With the wicker chairs and mind-numbingly navy umbrellas, it looks like every cafe’s outdoor seating situation in the state of California, right down to the almost oppressive number of ferns in beige planters shoved in between the tables. The only difference is that the place is completely empty. 

Correction: almost empty. 

Through the crush of the basic bitch jungle, he sees a solitary man seated at one of the tables, idly sliding a to-go cup from side to side with his big hands. As he draws a little closer, he’s able to clock the guy’s deep blue flight suit and what looks like the LAFD insignia on his arm.

Everyone who’s made an appearance in this weird-ass dream has been someone he knows. Even Daniel, who died before Buck ever met him, still made something stir with some kind of primordial recognition in Buck’s marrow the second he woke up and clapped eyes on him. He'd taken in the gray hair at high temples, the same nose Buck sees every time he looks in a mirror, the confident smile, and had just known who he was.

Buck has no idea who this guy is. He’s pretty sure he’d remember someone who looked like he bench presses actual benches in the morning and rushes off to be photographed for Men’s Health by lunch. 

As Buck comes up to the edge of the table, the man looks up at him, and the light of the sun catches his eyes. For a second, Buck’s back on the pier, gazing out into a cloudless sky stretched over the sea, but there’s no inhale of the earth, no oncoming wave. Just deep, Pacific blue. A slow smile spreads across the guy’s face, which takes him from unfairly handsome to utterly striking. 

"Hey."

A shiver starts from the very bottom tip of Buck’s spine and travels upwards like ripples on the surface of a lake, spreading out into all of his limbs until he can feel the eddies lapping at even the smallest arteries. For no cogent reason he can think of, his resting heart rate picks up until he’s flirting with full-on tachycardia. Maybe he’s about to code in the real world.

"H-Hey," Buck stutters, feeling caught out. "I—sorry, I’m—I’m a little turned around here."

The man gives him a look that’s both amused and commiserating, then picks up the drink cup he’d been playing table hockey with and holds it out. There's something thin and red tied around his ring finger, but Buck can't concentrate on it for some reason. It fades completely out of view every time he tries. "Want a sip? It’s the worst coffee you’ll ever taste."

It's said around what is clearly a laugh, but Buck doesn't feel like it's at his expense, plus it's so infectious that he can’t help but crack a grin. The muscles in his back, which feel like they've been locked for days, are finally starting to relax.

“If it’s so gross, why’d you get it?” Buck asks, genuinely curious.

The guy shrugs. "I didn't."

Nodding as if that makes any kind of sense, Buck looks around to see if the ferns are hiding anyone else, but it really does seem like there's no one else here. He turns back to the man, who's watching him with that deep, placid gaze. 

It's so strange. He'd been so desperate to find a way out of here, psyching himself up for a battle he was prepared to fight to the death in, but all he wants to do right now is grab the chair across from this stranger and just… let the clock run out.

He reaches for the back of the chair closest to him, but it jerks away with a screech. 

The guy unhooks his foot from the chair leg and, staring straight into Buck's eyes, shakes his head gently. 

Buck swallows around a suddenly dry throat. Under his feet, the patio stones tremble. "D-Do I know you?"

When the man smiles this time, the corners of his eyes crinkle, digging lines that run down his cheeks. Buck thinks of the picture Jee-Yun gave him last week of a beaming sun. She'd drawn deep yellow lines coming off it. Sun rays. 

"No," the man says, his voice as warm as a crayon drawing made with unconditional love. "Not yet."

He lifts his hand and this time Buck can see the little red string tied around his finger, and the long tail of the other end of it draped over the table top, which Buck follows the trail of, heart pounding, until it comes to a stop. He looks down to find the other end is tangled around the fingers of his own right hand. 

When he looks up, shaking and exhilarated, there's a door in the middle of the patio that swings open in obvious invitation. 

The man is no longer at the table, but there are suddenly lips at his ear. "See you soon, Evan."

Before he can close his eyes and sink into the hot wash of breath over his cheek, a large hand slides up to the middle of his back and shoves—

+

Buck knows he's being an absolute creep and Eddie won't stop giving him weird looks about it, but he can't help it. The pilot who's about to steal a helicopter for them has been nothing but friendly and confident, and he's currently wiring Buck up to his headset with brisk, competent hands, and all Buck can do is stare at him like he's got tonight's winning lottery numbers. 

Tom Kinard—"Tommy, please. Tom is my father, who I hate."—looks up from where he's bent a little at the knees, trying to get the microphone adapter to hook into Buck's belt, and shoots Buck an awkward grin. 

"Is there a spider in my hair or something?"

He hadn't realized how much tension he was putting into the air until Tommy cuts through it with that. Buck ducks his head and laughs, feeling like a dumbass. "Sorry, man. It's just—do I know you from somewhere? You look so familiar."

"Maybe I just have one of those faces," Tommy says, all good humor.

For Men's Health, maybe, Buck almost replies, then has to clench his teeth so it doesn't slip out by accident. What a weird thought to have. With his luck, Tommy would've taken it the wrong way and then abandoned the mission altogether. But even thinking it feels like a lie. Buck's known the guy for all of five minutes but he's oddly sure Tommy wouldn't leave them in the lurch because Buck feels the need to share every dumb thought that crosses his mind. 

"All right." Tommy stands up straight and steps back, but not before he gives Buck a friendly pat on the arm. "You're good to go."

Feeling oddly bereft, Buck says nothing as Tommy steps around him to where Chimney's been not so patiently waiting for his turn. 

"Sorry about him," Chim says, jerking a head in Buck's direction. "He was struck by lightning last year and hasn't been the same since. I mean, he was always annoying, but now he's just weird."

Buck deserves an Oscar for the fake outrage in his voice when he shoots back, "The view must be great from your glass house, Mr. I'm Dressing My Kid Up As A Ceiling Fan For Halloween," because the rest of him feels like it's in a tailspin. Every atom in his body is positively screaming for some reason. It's probably because they're all going to die. That makes the most sense.

When Tommy laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

Sun rays, Buck thinks nonsensically, and tangles the headset wire around the fingers of his right hand. 

+

Now on AO3!

[janitorhutcherson]

finnick odair who was never in the games but instead is your average man who lives in a coastal city in california. he’s rough around the edges still, gruff, sarcastic, and cocky, but he is happy and free. he’s more soft spoken and his guard is let down more, but only around specific people. mostly only around you.

finnick odair who owns a fishing company called ‘odair fisheries.’ he spends most of his time out on a little sailboat he’s made up. he’ll spend hours out in the ocean, just him, a cooler, and his fishing rod. his golden tan skin is sunburnt in some areas from long exposure and lack of sunscreen, something you’d gotten onto him about ten times too many. his body is covered in little tattoos of seashells, sea turtles, boat anchors, small outlines of fish. a seashell necklace sits around his neck, homemade from your delicate and loving hands.

finnick odair who’d practically BEG for you to come fishing with him. you weren’t the biggest fan. something about sitting out in the searing heat all day on a rocking surface didn’t seem all that appealing to you, but when finnick would look at you with his big blue puppy dog eyes, his bottom lip sticking out, you couldn’t resist. if you were determined to deny his suggestions, he’d go even further, throwing in a desperate, “please, sweetheart, you know i hate being without you as is.” as always, you’d give in, not particularly loving the sweat dripping off of your forehead but loving admiring your partner in front of you. you loved the way his face scrunched up in focus as he cast the line, his eyes perched on a particular spot. you loved the way his muscles tensed as he reeled the line in, or the way he huddled over you when attempting to teach you how to fish for the hundredth time (once again unsuccessful, though you know he’d try again tomorrow).

finnick odair who also taught children to fish as a part of his company. on weekend mornings, he’d have different classes that would last about 30 minutes. at the beginning, he’d take a group of kids out to a dock near his boat and he would teach the basics. by the end of the block of classes, he’d have even kids as little as 5 out fishing on his boat with him. he loved the kids like his own, growing attached to each and every one of them. you loved watching him teach, seeing how he’d sweetly hug the little boy gripping onto his leg back or how he’d soothe the crying little girl who fell and scraped your knee. he’d get you involved in helping to wrangle the kids, too, watching you intently as you’d braid a little girl’s hair for her or cradle one of the youngest ones on your hip. finnick wanted kids more than anything and he wanted them with you, his mind going crazy, desperate for a little family with you every time he saw you with children. it’s safe to say finnick’s baby fever is crazy.

finnick odair who spends rainy sunday mornings with nothing else to do playing guitar hero and other various video games. as rain would pelt down heavily on the roof of the house, the waves rocking the boat a little too much for him to even dare to attempt the seas (although he had in unsafe weather one too many times for your liking), you’d be awoken far too early in the morning to the smell of freshly baked muffins (from a box) and the sound of some rock song on the tv mixed with plastic clanking. you’d trudge into the living room, fuzzy blanket wrapped around your cold shoulders, and plop down onto the couch where a muffin already awaited you with some warm coffee on the side table. you couldn’t help but laugh as you nestled into your corner on the couch, turning yourself into a nest of blanket. finnick would be going crazy with the guitar strapped around his neck, resting at his somewhat bare torso. he’d be jamming out in his underwear, hair tussled, eyes still puffy with sleep. his nimble fingers would click through the red, blue, green, yellow pieces as his piercing blue eyes focused on the screen. you couldn’t help but fall more in love with him as you begin to doze back off in your corner.

finnick odair who loves intimacy. it was something that didn’t come easy to him. although things were much simpler for finnick odair in this life than in the hunger games, he still had his guard up. you’d taught him how to be intimate, how to love and to feel love, how to share his feelings with more than just ‘i love you.’ at night, he would spoon you to sleep, hand always resting on your stomach from behind, nuzzled up as close as he could get. if he was holding you the other direction, he’d hold you close into his chest, resting his nose in your hair, taking in your scent. “you are my entire ocean, the sea breeze that makes the waves move, the crystal blue water, all the way up to the glisten in the sea, sweet girl,” he’d mutter into your ear. even when you were fast asleep, he’d still whisper sweet nothings into your ear. when you’d take showers, he’d carefully sneak in and slip in behind you, almost always causing you to fall, but he’d be prepared and catch you. he’d then tenderly wash through your hair for you, pressing little kisses to your shoulders. finnick loved and adored you and he’d do anything possible to show that.

[emmaiscool22]

Love Isn't Easy

Eustass Kid x female strawhat!reader

Warnings: angst to a teeny tiny amount of fluff, tipsy reader?, minor cussing, SOFT!KID (that's a warning itself lol), mention of a girl's night

this takes's place after wano (so minor wano spoilers!!!!) purely fictional and noncanon!!!

word count: 2328

I sit on a barrel watching Brook play his violin. Despite the cheerful atmosphere, I couldn’t help but feel the dread in my stomach. I take my eyes off Brook and to the shoreline of the island we stopped at. As soon as we ran into the Kid Pirates, Luffy declared that we were throwing a party despite Kid disagreeing. How he ended up getting Kid to agree, I have no idea. 

“Are you alright, Y/N?” 

I jump, surprised at the voice. I crane my neck to look behind me, the stress leaving my shoulders when I realize who it is. 

“I am not sure if I am being honest, Robin,” I answer. 

She nods, sitting next to me. I move my eyes from her to the redhead across the ship, his laugh booming across the lively atmosphere. I move to take another sip of my drink, the burn doing nothing to settle the uneasiness in my belly. 

“You should talk to him.” 

“He already said what he wanted to,” I sigh, remembering his words on Wano.

Robin looks towards him and back at me, “What about you? Did you say what you wanted?”

Robin glances at Kid, noticing his eyes following me while my attention is focused on Brook. I take a big gulp of my drink, emptying it. I set it down next to me and grab another one, popping off the lid. I don't want to be here, I am in no mood for partying. 

“Whatever I do, I can’t get my mind off of Kid. It’s ruining me, Robin,” I let my feelings out for the first time, “I can’t sleep, his words just repeat in my head.”

“I never loved you. I will never love you.”

I stand up, moving forward, stumbling slightly. “I am headed to bed.” 

Before Robin can say anything, I head towards the girl’s quarters. In the middle of my journey there, I am stopped by someone voicing my name. I know that voice. I wordlessly shake my head and continue, needing to get off the deck. He says my name again, closer this time. I need to get off this ship, I think. My march to the girl’s quarters changes directions to the beach. The laughter and music fade into the background the farther I get from the ship. I stop when I feel far enough away without losing sight of the ship. I nestle into the sand, hoping to stake a claim here for the rest of the night. My heartbeat slows as the sea breeze and the tide calm me down. 

“Why did you leave?” 

I stiffen. 

“I wanted some fresh air,” I mutter. 

He chuckles, “That’s a lie.” 

I didn’t say anything else. I want to scream at him, tell him everything that has been consuming me for the months since Wano. But I can’t. 

Kid plops down right next to me in the sand. “I might not like him, but Strawhat sure knows how to throw a party,” Kid gulps his drink, throwing the empty bottle in the sand.

I still say nothing. 

“So we not talkin’ or somethin’?” He asks, turning his body towards me.

I try to find the courage to say something, anything, but alas, nothing comes to mind.

He stares at me trying to catch my eyes that are firmly set on the rolling tide. After a couple of minutes, he speaks again

“You know,” he starts, “Heat and Wire miss your presence on the ship. Said that something is missing… I don’t know. I told them we knew you were only stayin' for 2 years but they got attached to you.”  

I couldn’t help but scoff and mumble, “All I did on your ship was complain about you and missing my friends.” 

“She speaks!” He shouts and laughs. 

I stare at him. I forgot how his smile covered his whole face, or how he would whip his arms around when he got excited. The muscles flex as his flesh arm waves around in the air. No. I can’t think about him, not like this. Not when he broke my heart. I move to stand up and wipe the sand off my legs. My feet taking me towards the ship once more. I didn’t want to be alone with him. Suddenly a hand grabs mine, pulling me back. 

“Leaving me so soon?”

I shiver at his words. I can feel tears beginning to slide down my face. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. Kid pulls at my hand once more to get me to turn around. He says something, but all I can hear is my heart trying to tear itself out of my chest. Suddenly, someone starts calling my name from the ship, pulling me out of my thoughts. 

“I have to go back,” I whisper, tugging my hand harshly out of his grip. 

I sway towards the calling voice, the alcohol still moving about my system. I can see Sanji leaning over the edge of the ship, looking down at the shoreline for me. A couple heads peek next to him, Robin, Chopper, and Luffy. I remember Robin's words from before: 

“What about you? Did you say what you wanted?”

I do have things I want to say. I spin around, catching Kid off guard. He looks at me with surprise at my sudden actions. “What are you doing?” he demands. 

“I don’t want to love you anymore.” I blurt out. 

His eyes widen. 

“I don’t want to love you, but for some reason I do, even though you hurt me. I fell in love with you during the two years I was on your ship, and I felt like you loved me. We spent every day training together, and hanging out, and I felt like we got close. I wish I was the one you thought about before you went to bed, or the one you wanted to spend your days with. But in Wano you told me the opposite after I confessed my love for you... Why won’t you love me back?”

It takes him a moment to speak, “let’s get you back,” he grumbles, “you’re drunk Y/N.” 

At his words, I cry harder and drop to my knees, his flesh hand grabs my shoulder, “Don’t touch me!” I sob. He tries to say something but his mouth just opens and closes. His metal hand comes to my other shoulder to hoist me up, but my words have him stumbling back. 

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! Leave me alone!”

My hand grabs at the sand and chucks it towards him. My sobs ring out into the open air along with the faint sound of music and laughter. 

“I would listen to Y/N, Eustass,” a voice commands.

My eyes stay on the sand, while Kid’s head snaps towards the voice. A gentle hand rests on the shoulder in the place of Kid’s. A soft voice whispers, “You are okay Y/N, we are here for you.”

The hand begins to gently stroke my hair. I look up and lock eyes with Nami. 

“Can you stand up?” She asks. 

I nod my head slowly, planting my hands on the ground to push my body up. She wraps an arm around me and leads me towards the ship. 

“Y/N-” Kid starts but is cut off by Robin.

“You hurt her enough, don’t make it worse.” 

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

“He’s an idiot, Y/N,” Nami states while she brushes my hair. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your night,” I sigh, “I could see you and Killer getting along.”

Nami laughs, “Oh Y/N, he couldn’t handle me.”

We both laugh, warmth coming to my chest as I smile. The silence that follows is comfortable, basking in each other's presence. A soft knock comes from the door, the door squeaking open, revealing Robin, smiling slightly. After a few moments of chit-chatting, Nami stands up.

“Let’s have a girl’s night,” Nami shouts, “I will ask Sanji to make us some snacks! We can do our nails and have a good time together!” 

I smile and nod, and Robin voices her agreement. Nami skips out of the room to find Sanji while Robin and I get out all of the nail polish. Once we settle onto the floor, I take a moment to look at her and gather up the courage to ask her the question I have been dying to know the answer to since the beach. Reading my mind, she states, “He didn’t hurt me,” she smiles, “After you walked away, he asked me to grab Killer and that was it.” 

I nod slowly as Nami bursts back into the room along with Sanji, who is holding out drinks and our favorite snacks. “Y/N-swannnnnn, Robin-swannn!” He guides the tray to us, “Here you are, my lovely ladies!” 

He hands us our drinks and snacks, and leaves the room, letting us know that he can make us anything else we want. For the next couple of hours, we pamper ourselves, doing our nails, and hair, and talking about our most recent adventures. 

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

I toss and turn in bed, shoving the blankets off my legs. Laying there for a few moments, I cover back up, uncomfortably cold. Groaning, I decide to get up and make some tea, hoping it will help me sleep. I slip my sandals on, glancing at Nami and Robin to make sure I haven’t woken them. I slip out into the hallway, no one in sight. The Kid Pirates must have gone back to their ship at some point, I think. I make my way to the kitchen only to be stopped by the sight of a shadow by the head of the Sunny, “Luffy?” I whisper confused about why he was out here this late, moving my way toward the dark figure. 

“Sorry sweet cheeks,” Kid mutters, “I am not Strawhat.” 

I take a step back, startled by his presence, “K-kid, what are you doing here?” 

“I was thinking about you if I am being honest.”

I take another step back, the idea of tea lost in my mind, just hoping to escape to the solace of my bedroom.

“I am sorry for what happened on the beach,” Kid apologizes.

This stops me from moving. Kid apologizing? 

I find my voice, “Killer tell you to say that?”

“No,” Kid snarls, “I wanted to fucking apologize myself.” 

I take a deep breath and I dare myself to be bold, “What are you doing here?”

“I was practicing…” he trails off.

“Practicing?”

“I need to practice without Killer shoving words down my throat.”

“I don’t understand.”

He doesn’t respond and just looks at me. I suddenly feel self-conscious at his scrutinizing. We stand in the darkness for a few minutes, before he breaks the silence.

“You asked me why I didn’t love you back earlier.” He pauses before he continutes, “Umm, Killer told me I needed to sort out my thoughts and feelings before I talked to you again. But I hate the idea of not talking to you. When you confessed to me after I ran into you after escaping Udon, I was surprised. I couldn’t believe it. Why would you love me? I said the things I did to hurt you, I can’t have you loving me. I am incredibly selfish. As soon as you said it, I wanted to take you away. I wanted- I want you all to myself. But I hurt you instead of telling you the truth.”

Kid takes a deep breath, and grabs my hand. 

“The truth is, I realized that I have developed strong feelings for you. It started as a simple admiration, but over time, it has grown into something deeper. The way you make me laugh, the way you care for others, the way you fight, and the way you light up a room with your presence... it all captivates me. When you found me after Kuma separated your crew, I knew I was fucked. The look on your face when you asked if you could stay on the Victoria, I couldn’t say no. I knew I loved you the minute you told Heat off for stealing food from your plate one night at dinner. I am selfish for telling you this all now but -” 

I cut him off, “You love me?” 

He nods, “Yes.”

“And you’re not just saying it to say it 'cause it's what I want to hear?”

“I love you Y/N.”

“It would have saved me a whole lot of tears and heartache if you just told me.”

Kid nods again, “I know.”

“You hurt me.”

“I know.”

I take a bold step forward towards him and wrap my arms around him. His arms slowly wrap around my body, his warmth seeping into me. 

“It’s going to take me a while to forgive you, but thank you for telling me how you feel.”

“I understand,” Kid says, “but can I ask you something?”

I pull back from his embrace, enough to see his face staring down at me, “what is it?” 

“Can I kiss you?”

My heart hammers in shock. But slowly, I nod my head, not trusting my words. His flesh hand moves to cup my cheek while his metal one lays across the small of my back. He leans in halfway, his eyes searching mine for any sign of wariness. When he finds none, he closes the gap, his lips hovering over mine. I can feel the warmth of his breath and the slight tickle of his lips ghosting mine. I push my toes into the ground, leaning up to press my lips against his. His chapped lips move in sync with mine, but before either one of us can deepen the kiss, Kid pulls away, his forehead against mine. “I am sorry again for how I acted, I am going to try and make it up to you before our crew departs.” Kid mumbles. 

I don’t say anything, just take him in. I couldn’t forgive him just yet but I knew that I would love him forever. 

[widodiangelo]

Technically, they weren’t supposed to be in each other's cabins.

But after fighting in two wars in the last two years, Chiron had decided to let some things slide. And so the Poseidon cabin became the go-to meeting place for the older campers: mostly the seven and company.

As a result, the cabin had slowly begun accumulating various comfort items and was morphing into a strange college dorm room-thrift shop hybrid. There was an old, peeling leather couch Jason and Leo had dragged out of the big house a few weeks ago, surrounded by random folding chairs and an assortment of beanbags Nico had totally not shadow traveled in from an ikea in the city. There were two and a half mini fridges (two working, one broken), a strange assortment of video game consoles the stoll brothers had provided and quite a few puzzles.

Since he and Nico had started dating, Will found himself hanging out in Percy’s makeshift common room more and more. That evening, he had just finished a sing-along session with his siblings at the campfire and was making his way across camp to the cabins. The warm summer air was filled with the smells of campfire smoke and sea salt drifting from the shore. A calm smile on his face, Will strolled up to cabin three with an extra s’more in his hand.

The interior was lit up with fairy lights and a blue lamp in the corner: cozy and inviting. Leo and Piper sat in some beanbags, playing some sort of card game. Jason and Percy lounged on the couch, throwing blue jelly beans into each other’s mouths (or at least tried to) while they yelled at the video game on the large tv screen that sat on the floor, leaning against the far wall because someone had forgotten to steal a stand. Nico perched on the edge of a crusty armchair, a controller in his hands and gaze focused on the screen before him. 

Will stepped through the door with a soft wave, which Annabeth returned with one hand from where she was braiding back Nico’s hair as he played. Jason popped a jelly bean in his mouth as Will sat down at Nico’s side. “Holy shit. Nico, you’re sub 6 minutes and you’re already at Lernie? What even is this build?”

Nico smirked, not taking his eyes off the game, but leaning into his boyfriend as a hand carded around his waist. “I told you Grace, Beo is bugged on mirage shot. It’s totally OP.”

Percy tried to catch the blue projectile Jason tossed at him, almost falling off the couch in the process. “Yeah but even with the bug I’ve never been able to make use of hunter’s mark like this before. How are you even doing that?”

Nico shrugged, the silver chains that dangled from his ears glinted in the moonlight. “Practice.” He replied, taking down a hydra head in one blow.

Will took a bite of his s’more and squinted at the screen. “What even is this?”

“Hades.” All three boys replied, and Annabeth snorted. “It’s a Greek mythology game.” She supplied with a roll of her eyes. “Nico’s the main character.”

“I am not the main character.” Nico retorted, eyes never leaving the screen. He mumbled under his breath as the screen shifted, “fuck stupid room 34 witches. Dammit.”

Percy tilted his head in thought. “Actually Nico, you kinda are. I mean Zag is the son of Hades, his main weapon is a sword, you both look like you belong in a hot topic ad–”

“Fuck you, Jackson.” 

“I said what I said– oh shit smoldering air? No way!”

Jason almost choked on his food. “Dude you’re gonna go sub ten at this rate.”

Will glanced at Annabeth. “Do they always sound like they’re speaking ancient greek when they play this game?”

Annabeth pulled the hair tie around her wrist off with her teeth. “Yup. Hate to break it to you, your boyfriend’s a nerd.”

Nico scowled. “Am not.”

Will pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Oh you totally are.”

“Listen Solace– HA! 9:58!” Nico jumped up and tossed the controller on the floor in victory, flicking off the animated Hades he had just defeated. “Get fucked, dad.”

Will watched him fondly. “Of course you would be good at the greek mythology video game where you get to kill your father.”

Nico dropped back down on the chair and slipped into Will’s side, taking the s’more his boyfriend offered him with a grin. “I’m nothing if not on brand.”

[zhounauts]

TANKINI DREAMING — YANG JUNGWON wc 923 warnings cursing pairing lifeguard!jungwon x fmr

a day at the beach always meant the nostalgic smell of banana boat sunscreen lotion, burning hot sand, and memories of when you were younger, clad in a tankini strutting around in an attempt to seduce the life guard.

yeah. not your proudest moment.

but here you were again, standing underneath the beach umbrella, smelling of banana boat sunscreen, and definitely not in a tankini. you were older now, wiser, and 100% less likely to strut around the beach trying to seduce lifeguards out of your league.

as you settle onto your beach towel, in attempts to get tan, your sister stomps over to you, her small stature blocking the sun from hitting you. “what.” you grumble.

“stop being boring!” she huffs, “let’s go into the water!!”

”let me tan,” you mutter back, “shoo, go play in the sand yourself,”

“NO!” she exclaims, “let’s go into the water!! please please please please please please—”

“alright! i get it! shut up please,” you grumble again, standing up from your towel. you sigh, looking wistfully, at your towel before turning away to follow your sister who’s already atleast ten feet ahead of you. “hey! wait up!”

the water is cold despite the blazing hot weather, and you chatter as your legs touch the crashing waves. your sister however, is seemingly unaffected as she throws herself in, giggling as the waves splash onto her. you can’t help but smile at this as you wade in deeper, plans of revenge brewing in your head.

without a warning, you grab your sister, hoisting her up and then tossing her into the sea with a splash. she arises, kicking and sputtering, but there’s a smile on her face. she dives at you, and you laugh as she tackles you down into the water, only for you to wrestle her away from you. “uh uh,” you smile, “you’re still too weak for me,”

“i’ll take you—” she starts, only to be cut off by a wave dragging her underneath, and throwing her back up right into you. you laugh at her hair, drenched and stuck to her face as she angrily grumbles at you. the whistle blares through the beach, and you whip around back at shore to see who it’s aimed at.

but you immediately lose interest in this when you see the lifeguard. he is probably the most gorgeous man you have ever laid your eyes upon, and you even want to apologize to him for looking without permission. you suddenly feel like younger you, in a tankini, and dreaming of rizzing up the lifeguard. maybe, just maybe, this time you could actually—

“STOP LOOKING AT MEN I'LL TELL DAD!” your sister squeals, tossing a big scoop of saltwater at you, causing you to sputter and screech.

“YAH!” you exclaim, “you’re so dead!”

despite being only 18, after an hour of rough-housing in the ocean, and fighting the waves with your incredibly hyper sister, it is safe to say that you are pooped and absolutely done with movement for the rest of the day.

“i’m clocking out,” you groan sitting on the edge of the shore.

“you’re old,” your sister complains, “five more minutes!”

“nope, nope NOPE,” you tell her, “get out and we get ice cream, or i get out you stay and no ice cream,”

“you should’ve said that earlier!” she exclaims, “ice cream!!! i want a scoop of cookie monster, chocolate, and vanilla!”

“alright you ravenous beast,” you tell her, “just please let me get out of the damn water. . .”

your sister bounds out of the water, the thought of ice cream acting as new found energy for her. you groan, trailing slowly behind her.

“tired?’ you snap your head up in surprise, turning to the left of you. you’re met with the lifeguard stand, where four guys stand around. yet, it’s the gorgeous lifeguard you noticed earlier talking to you.

“yeah,” you answer, “i can’t keep up with that anymore,”

he laughs.

“so,” you start, “did you need something?” you ask, before quickly clapping your hand over your mouth, “sorry, that came out like really rude,”

“no, it’s okay,” he smiles, “uhm, well—”

“he thinks you’re cute!!” another lifeguard calls.

“he wants your number!”

“he wants to be your boy—”

“HEY SHUT UP!” the boy screams, whipping around at his friends. you hear the three of them giggle in the background, “sorry about them. i’m jungwon by the way,”

“i’m yn,” you smile, “i heard you think i’m cute?”

“will i get your number if i say yes?”

“well why don’t you find out?” you grin. jungwon laughs, pulling his phone out from his back pocket to hand it to you. you click your tongue.

“too natural jungwon,” you say, “you do this to other girls as well?” his eyes widen.

“what!? no—”

“just joking,” you laugh, quickly typing in your contact details in. you hand back his phone, and he grins at the contact you set up.

“how long are you going to be here for?”

“whole summer,” you answer.

“perfect,” he tells you, “i’ll—”

“YN STOP TALKING TO MEN!!” your little sister screeches from behind, “DAD—”

“AYE! you little shit you better—” you yell, diving towards your sister to cover her mouth.

“get me ice cream,” she smiles. you glare at her, but you sigh and give up, letting your sister drag you away. you turn back to smile apologetically at jungwon, who smiles as well, before he mouths something to you.

i’ll text you.

and i’ll text you back

ׂ╰┈➤ TANKINI DREAMING GENRE fluff PAIRING lifeguard!jungwon x f!reader WARNINGS cursing networks @a-dream-bookmark a/n its april, the fourth month, and the fourth of july is in summer, so basically it's summer!! (can you tell i'm REALLY manifesting summer)

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