#long-lasting sex medicines

[hammerofthortab]

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[venusbyline]

Oasis ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 01, oct.

— pairing: Spencer Reid x wife!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: squirting + overstimulation

— summary: Spencer finds out another guy made you squirt in the past and it hits a nerve. You agree to try this with him, even after your husband's sudden childish behavior.

— word count: 4.3k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 1st day, female!reader, husband!Reid, squirting, overstimulation, arguing, mention of safeword (no use), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), curse words, light degradation, biting, body worship, no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @magnoliatrees-world @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00

— crossposting: AO3

Ever since Spencer had to stay away from Virginia for more than fifteen days solving an extremely urgent criminal case, you've been needy all the time. Your thoughts were in an ironical division between your concern for your husband's safety and well-being, but also the pure desperation and desire to be touched by him again as soon as he returned home.

And it didn't happen.

Unfortunately, Spencer arrived so tired the night before that he didn't even bother to reheat his dinner. After all, it wasn't your fault if he returned late and the lasagna was already cold. Spencer was never a husband who demanded you anything. Both of you cooked and took turns doing the other tasks... As any couple should do. Of course he never complained if you didn't make his lunch before work. It was the least a husband should do. And you two knew it.

So it was a big surprise when there were no welcome hugs and kisses, but just the rolling of his eyes when he noticed that you put his dish in the fridge due the lateness. A spoiled attitude coming from him, and you gave up the lecture because you supposed he was just exhausted and frustrated after the case he solved with the team.

However, that didn't last long. Spencer simply took his things to sleep in the guest room. That made you angry as hell. He couldn't be being such a petty brat over a damn cold dinner, right? Spencer wasn't like that.

It was only a few minutes before you followed Spencer into the other room, asking for an at least reasonable explanation for what was happening to him.

And your hope of ending the night of Spencer's return with a good sex was completely dashed due to the unexpected argument.

During the morning, you left the room still sleepy and grumpy by Spencer's behavior last night, but tried to focus on other things. You tried to distract yourself by making the breakfast, furrowed brow as you watched the eggs and bacon strips frying in the pan.

You turned the piece of meat to the other side when you realized that it was already a little fried, but you let out a sigh when you felt hands entwining around your waist, the recognition of the shaving lotion smell preventing you from screaming in fright.

"It smells great..." Spencer hummed with groggy voice from sleep, leaning over so he could be at your height and resting his chin on your shoulder. The compliment about the good scent he was also flowing almost escaped your lips, but you remained silent, ignoring his existence right there behind you. Even though you hated giving him the silent treatment, your pride was wounded and you needed to give him a taste of his own medicine. After all, he had been trying to ignore you all night, before the uncomfortable silence turned into a stupid fight.

Not getting any reaction made Spencer's heart to ache, and he sighed. "Honey, please... Talk to me. You know how much it hurts me not to talk to you."

You couldn't help but let out a mockery sound, without even looking at him back. "Seriously, Reid? Because I remember very well that you were planning to do exactly that shit last night."

Your accusation made Spencer let out a frustrated sigh, his hands letting go of your waist and taking a few steps away. For a moment, you thought he was angry too and going back to guest room or maybe the living room, but instead, you looked at him furiously as he turned off the flame of the stove.

"What the hell? I haven't finished cooking yet!" You exclaimed with a frown, not believing your husband's boldness.

"Yeah... I know." Spencer took a deep breath, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. "You can finish later. I need to explain myself."

"Oh, so now you wanna explain yourself?" You scoffed. "Maybe if you had done that yesterday instead of treating me like trash or-"

Spencer cut you off, holding your shoulders gently but firmly enough to make you shut up and pay attention to what he needed to say.

"I'm so sorry, okay?" He began and one of your eyebrows rose in a nonverbal sarcasm sign. "I'm serious, honey. I was an asshole last night and-"

"Yes. You were." Your words came out colder than he was expecting and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "You threw a lot of shit at me without me even knowing why we were fighting."

Spencer took another deep breath, trying to work up the courage to confess about what messed with his mind. He knew that nothing he said would justify his actions and that was making him anxious, his heart ached not only at the mere thought of you not forgiving his childish behavior, but also at the possibility of you keeping to avoid his touches and his attempts to talk.

Spencer let go of your shoulders, his hands coming down until they were intertwined with yours, even if your fingers were stiff at first.

"I was jealous..." The confession finally came in an embarrassed whisper.

A perplexity look appeared on your face. "Jealous? Of what?" You asked, trying to look him in the eyes, even though his face was tilted down, a few strands of hair hiding his flushed cheeks. When he didn't answer, you insisted, lightly touching his fingers that were still intertwined with yours. "Explain it to me, Spencie."

Your demand said by a less angry way made him whimper, needing to be honest. "Y-Yesterday, after the case, the team was at the BAU. JJ, Prentiss and Garcia were talking some personal stuff about their sex lives..." Spencer began. "I-I wasn't paying attention, logically, I swear. I was with Morgan and Hotch talking about random things, but my hearing accidentally picked up a certain topic of the talk between the girls and-"

"Spencie..." Your voice softer now that you noticed how he seemed embarrassed and stuttering like a little child, as well as he was also beating around the bush. "I know you're nervous, but you could try going straight to the point, please? I'm worried here too."

Spencer nodded, knowing you were right. "I accidentally heard JJ whispering to the girls that you already had a squirt." He murmured and it was your turn to get hot and rosy cheeks. You could imagine that JJ hadn't told your secret as a gossip, but rather to add some important information on the subject, but it still left you embarrassed. "But you never had a squirt with me..."

Your eyes widened with realization and you tried to work around the situation. "Baby..."

"Don't do that... Please. I know how it works, okay? I know that not every woman can squirt and I also know that those of you who can squirt don't necessarily do this often. I've also read that it's not always as pleasing for you as porn makes it seem-"

You cut him off. "So you also know that squirting doesn't always happen during a orgasm. It can also happen even without cumming. It's something individual for each woman, it's not like an exact rule."

Spencer huffed angrily. "I know, fuck. I know..." He grumbled, running a hand over his face. "I know how all this shit works. But it doesn't change anything."

"What doesn't change, Reid?" You exclaimed impatiently now.

"The fact that you hid this from me!" Spencer shouted and you immediately rolled your eyes. "Damn, don't you dare roll your eyes at me. You don't know how much hearing that behind my back hurt me."

"Retroactive jealousy? Really, Spencer? You know better than anyone this doesn't make any sense." You huffed, massaging your temples to avoid the huge urge to pick up that frying pan and hit your husband in the back of the head.

His jaw clenched when you mentioned that. "It's not... It's not just jealousy, much less the retroactive one." He was stubborn like a fucking child, the sight of Spencer crossing his arms to try to look more mature almost made you chuckle.

"Oh, I bet it is, and very immature too." The scoff escaped before you could think of something more gentle to say. "Fuck, Spencer. It's not like we share details about our past sex lives with each other. That would be really awkward and uncomfortable. I don't wanna know what you've done with other women in your past and I guess you don't wanna know what I've done in my past either."

Spencer kept his arms crossed, but his eyebrows shot up and his jaw clenched for the second time, a clear sign that he knew you were right, it was just hard to admit.

"Well, I really don't wanna hear about that old stuff, but this is important one..."

"Why on earth would this be important?"

"BECAUSE NOW I'M FEELING INSUFFICIENT!" Spencer uncrossing his arms as he looked at you with despair. "I feel like I'm not giving you enough pleasure! Now I feel like I've never given you a decent orgasm."

You felt your eyes widen again. It all still didn't make any sense, it was something completely irrational coming from Spencer. You knew that academically, Spencer was always a genius who knew about anything in the world, but when it was something regarding you or your relationship, he acted like any man, lost with most situations and also insecure at times.

"You're being ridiculous." You grumbled, trying to push past him before his hand closed around your wrist, keeping you firmly in place.

"I know. I know I'm being immature and irrational, but-"

"But what, Spencer? Jesus Christ, if you were trying to deal with jealousy, it would have been easier to have asked to fuck me last night or something."

His face flushed and he began to stutter, not knowing what to do other than let go of your arm.

After two minutes of awkward silence, Spencer tried to argue again. "That's not... That doesn't make sense. We can't solve our relationship problems by having sex..."

His hypocrisy made you roll your eyes. "Oh, sure. And fighting solved it?" You asked and he looked away, knowing you were right. Again. "Yesterday I was really desperate to have sex with you."

He lifted his head and looked at you, surprised. "You mean that?"

You laughed quietly due to the confusion in his face. "Yes, Spencie. You've been away from home for over a fortnight, do you really think I'm not fucking horny?"

Spencer stopped to think for a moment, scratching the back of his head and trying hard to find a solution to the stupid situation he created. "So can we... Can we try?"

You looked at him, thinking about denying it out of a tantrum, but you just sighed and then argued. "I don't know, Spencer... I'm not in the mood, but we can try just for learning purposes. More like a lesson than our real sex."

A guilt expression appeared on Spencer's face, along with a pang in his chest. The idea of you not even wanting to have real sex with him for now was torturous for him. He knew he had failed with you, being so immature to the point of making you lose your lust about the situation. But he could try to redeem himself. Even though it was a selfish thought at first, he was now determined to apologize properly.

"Yes... Yes, that sounds good..." He gave you a sad smile.

You lay down on the bed and put a pillow under your hip. Your pajamas were already thrown somewhere random on the floor, just like the pink cotton panties. You were ready to teach Spencer whatever he needed to learn.

There was no certainty that he would be able to make you squirt. You always had the best orgasms when Spencer was in charge of pleasuring you, but he was feeling less after the discovery that you had already squirted with the help of another man. A man who wasn't him.

Maybe hiding this fact from him hadn't been tbe wisest choice, even if you hadn't done it on purpose. You just didn't think that mentioning this situation or asking Spencer to try that would really be so important. Over the years, no man had given you half the pleasure that Spencer gave you on a daily basis, squirting or not.

"Well, let's do it." Your words came out emotionless as you parted your legs, giving him the perfect view of your still barely wet pussy.

"You're shaved..." Spencer frowned at your complete lack of pubic hair so suddenly. Or at least that's what he thought.

You rolled your eyes, impatience side by side with embarrassment, both eating you alive. "Like I said, I was desperate to fuck with you as soon as you got back from the case. So I decided to get a full wax beforehand."

At other times, Spencer would laugh hearing you confess so openly about your high desire for his body over the past few weeks. At other times, he would even tease you about needing a vibrator to help you achieve your release when he was away, even if you were more than capable of cumming with your own fingers.

But your hands didn't provide you the same ecstasy that Spencer's long thin fingers made you feel. And he knew it too.

You felt yourself holding your breath the moment Spencer took off his shirt to make himself more comfortable. As much as your pride told you to look away from his body, it was impossible for you to stop enjoying the view. Watching Spencer's bare skin was as addictive as the fresh water of an Oasis should be for thirsty people walking through deserts. And you couldn't lie... You were desperate to quench your thirst and taste him again after all that time away from each other.

Spencer knelt on the floor, carefully pulling your legs so that your lower body was closer to the edge of the bed, and automatically closer to his face.

"Are you okay, honey?" He asked with a cocky smile as he felt your thighs tingle as he touched them to adjust your position.

Hearing your husband's sarcastic smugness, you held back from punching him in the shoulder. "Yeah, I'm great." Your voice sounded angry and he chuckled softly, nodding his head and turning his attention to your center, which was finally starting to get wetter.

"I'm seeing..."

You ignored his mockery and looked at the ceiling, not wanting to exchange eye contact at that moment. Spencer's puppy eyes plus his mischievous smile were an almost fallen angel combination. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing or the Devil in disguise, just as Elvis Presley said in that song.

Spencer giggled as he ran his fingertips down your thighs, caressing your skin so gently that it felt like delightful torment. You fought to maintain an expression of indifference and boredom, but the goosebumps that passed through your body told him a different story.

Already knowing that not so soon you would give in and admit your lust, Spencer began to left kisses spread across the lower part of your thighs, enjoying the sound of your breathing becoming increasingly panting.

"What's the next step, professor? Your teaching method it's being too silent..." Spencer joked and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Just... Just keep doing what you always do for now." You hummed with the last bit of patience you had left, grabbing the sheet to keep your hands out of Spencer's hair.

Another chuckle escaped Spencer's lips and he nodded, placing more soft kisses on your skin before moving closer to your pussy again, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of your essence for a few seconds before leaving a quick delicate kiss on your bud. “F-fuck…” You squirmed slightly, your eyes widening at his unexpected action. "T-this is new..."

"I saw something like this while I was watching porn after our argument and I thought this might be good for you." Spencer confessed and you nodded with difficulty, a confirmation that the wished effect was occurring.

You looked at Spencer's cute face, but the eye contact lasted very little time, because as soon as Spencer's tongue began to tease your clit, your head arched back, more moans escaping as he held your legs firmly, not letting you give in to the normal human reaction of trying to deflect sudden pleasure. "Fuck... Why is this even better than usual?"

Spencer laughed again at the question you asked amidst the moaning session. He knew you were more touchy this time and he had an idea why. Probably due to the fact that both of you missed each other's bodies, as well as the fact that he was working hard as if it were actually a goal to be achieved, a prize to be won. But he wouldn't stop licking you to admit it. Deep down, he supposed that you were realizing that too.

"T-two fingers, Spencer! Put two fingers inside!" Your order left him a little disconcerted, since despite everything, he was used to putting in one finger at a time. As soon as he did what you demanded to him, he felt the walls of your pussy almost crushing his fingers, a desperate moan escaping your lips, fleshy and reddened from holding back the sounds that wanted to escape.

"Damn, honey... You're needy today." Spencer smirked, starting the movements more gently, wanting to enjoy the sight of you writhing around his fingers, begging for more. "You said it would just be a lesson, just a method to stop my stupid retroactive jealousy... But you're loving it, don't you?"

You just kept moaning. Even though the pleasure was obvious by the way your cheeks flushed and your hips rolled around Spencer's fingers. Pride prevented you from saying you were excited to make a mess on the sheets.

When Spencer interspersed the fingerfucking and his lips closing slightly around your clit, starting to suck gently, an immediate whimper left your lips. "F-fuck, do it again. Do it one more time, Spencie."

Spencer, the genius who learned too quickly, followed your commands like a good boy, sucking the swollen bud again, his fingers moving faster when he noticed how you eyes were rolling back in pleasure. It was a divine view. He could fuck you for hours, just as he could watch you cum for hours too.

He greedily licked away your first orgasm of the day, even though he knew it still wasn't enough. It still wasn't the goal you two were looking to achieve that morning. However, not only did Spencer never waste the opportunity to take in every drop of your sweet release, but he also knew that the first orgasm could make it easier to get closer to your potential squirt.

And to be honest, he might even be content with your normal orgasms, since you looked so beautiful when you came on his lips.

Your lungs burned for air as his breathing normalized, his heartbeat became faster and your vision readjusting to reality. When the white flashes disappeared, you look back at Spencer, who still has a cocky smile on his face, his fingers still working inside you.

"Honey, you're a very unfocused teacher." He mocked and the literal joke made you laugh, a weak, breathless sound, mixed with some sighs of pleasure that were impossible to you contain.

"Or maybe my dearest student's very diligent. Too much, actually." Your mockery made him laugh too. His lips moving closer to your intimacy again, but now focusing on nibbling the flesh of your thigh, speeding up his fingerfucking again. Even the smallest touch making you whimper, your pussy tightening from the overstimulation.

Spencer noticed this and bit your skin for the second time, now with a little more pressure, and you were sure you heard the neighbor from the next apartment knock on the wall to curse you for the sudden fucking loud moan in the middle of the morning. This only further increased Spencer's growing arousal and your need for more release. "Grumpy old woman." You mumbled about her, trying hard to hide the embarrassment that colored your cheeks.

"Oh, c'mon... Don't be shy, my dear wife." Spencer chuckled, licking your soft flesh before teasing your with his teeth again, but now just scraping them across your skin until he reached your core. You felt the moment when the central and lateral incisors brush against your clit. It was a soft act despite it taking a gasp from you due to the little pain. And then he did it again, returning to moving his fingers roughly.

When Spencer nibbled on your swollen clit, you almost screamed, but his free hand stopped you from moving away from him. “Relax, baby…” He purred, licking your sensitive pussy to redress for the pain he caused, his wet warm tongue matching perfectly with the bitter sting of his teeth returning to bit the same spot. It was so painful and hot...

“S-Spencie…” You whimpered as he blew on your slightly tortured clit. A rush of air so brief that you would barely feel it usually, but now, with your pussy burning in flames, the mere breeze of his sigh in that right spot made you shiver and squeeze his fingers tighter.

"It's okay, I'm feeling it, baby... I'm feeling your little pussy squeezing me. Are you gonna cum again? Will you be a good wife and wet my tongue with your cum?" Spencer practically growled, focusing back on fingering you, his fingers moving in and out of you at such a fast pace that the wet obscene noise joined your moans, filling the room like music to Spencer's ears.

The moment his tongue returned to licking your soaked folds, your body shook more than expected and you opened your mouth in a silent scream, your back writhing in Spencer's grip, arched and aching as the clear jets wetted your husband's face, a guttural groan escaping him as he opened his eyes to see you with your eyes closed and your legs shaking as he committed himself to drinking every drop from the fountain you provided.

Spencer didn't give you time to adjust to that non-routine orgasm. He took care of remaining with his head in the same position, between your thighs, licking your pussy as if it were the tastiest Oasis' water. Savoring the flavor, eyes closed as he concentrated on getting messy, not caring which part of his face he was rubbing against your warm cunt. Whether it was the lips, the nose, the chin... He rubbed every inch of his face, noticing how your moans became desperate again and you tried to push his head away, a mix of overstimulation and shyness.

Spencer always loved eating you out. However, nothing was like now. Nothing was like feeling eaten alive by a hungry lover, and at the same time so worshiped by him.

"J-Jesus... it's enough, Spencie. S-stop, please." You tried to push him away, enough to get a heavenly view of his face glistening due your juices, completely messed up and handsome like a angel.

But he looked up grinning like a devil. "Unless you want or need to say your safeword, then it's not enough and I'm not stopping now." He threatened, even though you two knew that the one word would stop him immediately.

Instead of answering him, you grabbed the back of Spencer's head closer to your already swollen pussy. He removed his fingers, focusing on letting you rub against his face. Every inch of the tip of his nose brushing against your folds was enough to make more pathetic whimpers come from you, plus a little liquid leaking out, now in light jets and low quantities.

You trembled, letting go of the back of his head and looking at him with your lip bleeding from biting so much. You wanted to say something, anything to say thank you, but Spencer had other plans. His fingers, still soaked from fucking your walls, began to return working on your clit. He smirked at your screams of pleasure, the tears streaming down your face... And he enjoyed every minute of all of this, exchanging his long fingers for his own palm, where the friction turned aggressiver, more painful, eliciting louder screams from you as he practically left your pussy raw, biting your thighs to create a mix of impressive actions whose only possible consequence was having you squirting into the palm of his hand, screaming like a whore. His little whore. Only his.

And when you did it, Spencer finally moved his arms away from your body. You sobbed, eyes closed and tears flowing. But he knew you were fine, especially when you let out a soft, weak and shy chuckle at just hearing the sound of him licking his own fingers so as not to waste any drop of your squirt.

"Was I better than your ex?" Spencer teased, pulling you to his chest, where he could caressing your hair and calm your tremors from all the orgasms he gave you.

Still with your eyes closed to try and calm down, you let out a scoff through your nose. He already understands how you feel, but that doesn't stop him from wanting you to say it, loud and clear. You nodded at his provocation and received a soft kiss on your forehead, while his hands snaked around your waist, getting closer to your tired and fragile body. "You're a very smart and diligent student." You managed to scoff and Spencer laughed, kissing your cheeks.

"Only because you're my favorite professor, honey."

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: 'Intense Desire' ༄࿔ L.F.

⤷ Sex Pills | Overstimulation | Squirting

♱ word count: 2.9k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, sex pills usage (felix accidentally taking them), mention of a handjob in a car, he gets “mean” for like a split second, unprotected p in v, rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampies, squirting, if u quint theres 1 sentence of angst at the end, i might be forgetting something

♱ notes: sorry this was delayed! I made it a little longer than the others in hopes that it would make up for the tardiness <3 also 1 the beginning might feel rushed (it was) and 2 sex pills dont completely work like this?? But its fiction so.. pls bare with me im so stressed out LMFAO

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

The pounding in Felix’s head was just enough to distract him from the colorful clothes around the two of you. The initially exciting shopping trip to the mall with your boyfriend had quickly slowed down thanks to the headache he developed out of the blue. Your comforting words and warm hands on his face only helped so much, and he felt horrible for his body refusing to let him enjoy your date.

It wasn’t until you reminded him of the medicines he had packed away in his bag that he let up on his pouting Then, with the familiar feeling of the plastic of a pill bottle on his fingers and a gentle reminder from you that this should be fun for the both of you, Felix finds himself leading you to the food court. He quickly buys a bottle of water and chugs down 3 pills. It’s over the dosage of 2 he normally would take, but he’s desperate to have a good time with you.

Not long after, he’s back to his normal self and the thumping pain in his head is long gone. Wide smiles and crescent eyes watch you pick out interesting clothes, some even meant to match with him. Everything is back to normal!

That is until 30 minutes after the fact when he’s patiently sitting outside of your changing room waiting for you to try on the next outfit. He starts to feel a new, less painful ache. One between his legs that he’s all too familiar with.

Literal lines of sweat are dripping down his forehead and his neck when you open the curtain to present the outfit you picked out. He forces a smile and has to tear his eyes away from the tight pants to give his opinion. A curt, breathy, “Beautiful.”

The sweat immediately catches your attention and obviously raises concerns from the way your eyebrows furrow. He notices right away and tries not to let it worry you, shooing you away and encouraging you to try on the last pieces of fabric that await you in the changing room.

The second the curtains close behind you he racks his brain for possible reasons as to why a sudden, strong feeling of horniness took over his body. It’s even to the point where his whole body tingles from the ceiling fans above him. The slow gusts of wind make his cock ache in his jeans and goosebumps litter his arms.

He doesn’t think he’s ever gotten this horny in his life. Even the time when you managed to rile him up to the point where he almost came in his jeans when you brushed past him he had never felt this way. He swore he could feel his veins burning as he looked through his bag for his phone, praying that Google would explain everything.

But he doesn’t get far enough to grab his phone, because the realization hits him like a tsunami wave. The pills. He realizes too late that he never checked which medicine he took. And sure enough, when he checked his bag, the tiny plastic bottle he had a hold on earlier wasn’t his Ibuprofen.

Instead, it was a blue pill bottle that he kept for special medicines that he would occasionally get prescribed. This time around, it was the brand new, not prescribed pills he had put to the side for… intimacy reasons.

It was embarrassing at first for him. A young, attractive man in his 20s struggling with his sex life. All thanks to the wear and tear from work stress: the unforgiving cycle of working too much and being overwhelmed, then taking a break and working too little just to fall behind.

You understood! It’s understandable to not be able to get hard when there’s a never ending dread that has made home in the back of your mind. And it was clearly obvious that he is attracted to you, every other time the two of you were intimate is enough evidence for that.

So you offered him an idea that might help! That idea being “horny” pills. It took some convincing and consistent reassurance for him to cave and agree. Which led to that little blue bottle of little red pills that made his not-so-little friend crave your attention.

“Lixie?” Your voice snaps him out of his daydreaming and his head snaps up to see your head poking out of the curtain. Your giggle goes straight to his dick and he has to force a smile to get through the ache. “I need your help with this dress. I can’t get the zipper up.”

You don’t need to ask twice, especially when the promise of getting to see your bare skin is on the table. He’s joining you in the blink of an eye, using his clammy, shaky hands to zip up the dress the rest of the way. Your body flushes at the way he licks his lips as he looks you up and down multiple times.

“Do you like it?” His eyes snap up to yours in the mirror and he nods. It’s pretty obvious to you what’s going on in his head at this point, minus the reason for it, so you rip the dress off and rush to the cashier as fast as you can.

Felix is on your tail the whole time. A hand on your hip and his chest pressed to your back as he shoves his credit card into the card reader. Then again when the two of you get to the car, this time both of his hands on your hips and his face shoved into your neck.

“Need you so fucking bad.” His hard-on is even more obvious now as he grinds it against your thigh, groaning and whining into your neck about how good it feels. You struggle to get the car keys out of his pocket when his hands are all over you, making you feel good when they aren’t even doing much.

“Felix… Not here.” The two of you drabbled in public sex before so it wasn’t a new experience for either of you. But it had been a while since the two of you were intimate so you really didn’t want it to be in the dirty car garage of a mall. In the middle of the day, mind you.

“I need something. Baby, please. I-I can’t do this.” The desperation in his voice is enough to make your neck whip around, almost knocking into his as you look back at him with confusion. He knows you all too well and the answer to your unspoken question is already on the tip of his tongue.

“I accidentally took those sex pills instead of pain meds.” He doesn’t bother explaining further; he doesn’t care anymore. The only thing that’s on his mind is getting you into the car so he can get some sort of stimulation on his poor, achy cock.

You're lucky to even have gotten his hands off of you after that, let alone getting him in the passenger seat and buckled in without him launching at you. However you’re even less lucky as you drive him home, one hand on the wheel and the other- well, on his dick.

You could hear the wetness of him jerking himself off before you saw it. He was keen to get your help though. His eyes were teary and his voice came out a distressed whine as he pleaded for you to help, complaining that his hand wasn’t comparable to how good your hand would feel.

The windows on your shared car are as tinted as legally possible, so you quickly cave and slide your hand toward him. Now 5 minutes away from the house, you quicken your hands in hopes that he’ll cum this soon. But luck isn’t on either of your sides today and the car’s already in park before he’s even close to cumming.

You don’t make it past the entryway before Felix is shoving you forward, pinning you to the wall, and pulling your bottoms to your knees. The sight of your panties all messy and your pussy lips equally as messy from your excitement is enough to make him feral.

“You’re so good to me, Honey. Always so obedient and keeping my pussy ready for me when I most need it. I’m going to give you the world and more.” He doesn’t wait for you to make a comment before he’s pushing your underwear to join your bottoms.

One hand rests on the wall by your face and the other pushes against your lower back, arching your back at the same time that he pushes his cock in. Your walls are warm and wet as they take every last inch of him in, almost as if two puzzle pieces were finally placed together.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and he sucks on your neck, whispering incoherent mumbles until he’s bottomed out. He only stops then to take deep breaths and calm his own body down. Now that he’s finally inside of you, the effects of the pills feel a million times stronger.

He genuinely feels like a dog in heat, hips still rutting into yours even as his mind tells his body to relax. It doesn’t listen in the slightest and after a short pause his hips are finding a rigorous rhythm. 

Felix is a man possessed behind you; nails digging into your skin leaving bruises to come and hips moving with more force than you thought he could give. It’s hard to think he’s not possessed with his filthy mouth, something he’s always been good at but it hits differently when he’s rock hard inside of you and eager to feel every inch of your body all at once.

You start to feel like the pills are affecting you. Your own body reacts to his fervent movements with warm clenches and moans that spur him on. You feel so sensitive and your orgasm sneaks up on you, causing you to wiggle in his hold. The shuffle of your limbs makes him lose his angle and you both whine.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. Stop. You gotta stay arched, baby. Yeah, just like that. Ffuck…” The hand on your back pushes you forward, completely squishing you against the wall as he tries to arch you back to how you previously were. He knows that he did it right when you start to flutter around him again and your moans ascend a few pitches.

With the other hand using all of his fingers to rub your clit back and forth, he pushes you over the edge. You clench around him as you moan into the wall, your arms shaking as you try to hold yourself up against it. He growls against your ear and bites down on it as he continues fucking you through your high.

He doesn’t stop after you’re done. If anything it only encourages him, the ache in his veins telling him that he needs to keep going and make you feel even better. And so he does, with one hand still furiously rubbing your clit back and forth while the other now moves to your waist and holds up your slouching form.

It just squeezes you appreciatively, almost even possessively as he holds you in place when you start to flail. It doesn’t become mean until in the midst of your thrashing, you move yourself just slightly to the point where he loses his angle again. He pushes his hand roughly against you and arches your back himself again, this time with a disgruntled snap. 

“Stop fucking doing that.” He’s huffing into your ear as his hips pick up pace, going even faster than he was before. “Be good or else I’ll bend you over with nothing to lean on.” But it’s hard to control your body when painful pleasure is swimming through your body. Even more so when you feel another orgasm lurking.

“B-Baby, fuck! Give me a sec, you’re-” You cut yourself off with a shriek as the hand on your waist moves to tangle itself in your hair. It uses the grip to pull you back up to rest your back flat against his chest. His other hand finally falters at this point, instead of rubbing your clit it sinks into your thigh.

“I’m what, Honey. Tearing up your guts?” He laughs out a sound of agreement that turns into a guttural groan as his blinding thrusts finally let up. A few sharp thrusts and a series of moans fall from his lips as he empties himself out inside of you. It feels like gallons of his seed are filling your stomach, and the feeling of it leaking out onto your inner thighs is enough to make you believe that’s the case.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands there with his forehead against your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your torso, mind reeling as he comes down from such an intense high.

“Baby. You didn’t cum with me at the end, did you?” He’s more upset that he faltered that badly, but the twitch of his cock lets you both know that he’s not close to being done regardless. The question is a real testament to your faith. Lie to him and maybe bribe him to let you take a break, or tell the truth and deal with the consequences. Though, it doesn’t seem like he was asking.

He pulls out and moves his hand to the small of your back. Neither of you even spared a glance at your bottoms as you’re dragged to the living room and shoved into the couch. It knocks the breath from your lungs momentarily, and it’s all the time he needs to bend you to his will. Your shoulders sink into the bottom cushions and your legs are hovering just above you as he shoves his cock inside of you again. 

The breath is almost knocked from you again as he finds a new, rougher pace to follow. This one isn’t nearly as fast but the new angle, thanks to your ankles being by his ears, sends him right where he wants to be. His previous load froths along his length as he fucks into you like your lives are on the line. 

Your hands find home on his biceps and your nails leave deep crescent shapes along his skin as you desperately try to find something to ground yourself with. The new vigor he fucks you with makes it so that your next orgasm builds up within a minute or two. The feral stare from his lidded eyes only makes your stomach squeeze as you realize that he really has no plans to stop, even if he really wants to. 

“Felix, baby, s-slow down. It feels w-weird.” You push against his stomach in hopes that it will slow him down, but it doesn’t. He stays quiet and only responds by grabbing your wrist and shoving it into the cushion by your head; a wordless command for ‘Hands off.’ You look up just in time to see his gaze grow more intense.

He even leans forward, both of his hands moving to your thighs to fold them into your chest. His hips pick up speed once he has you folded to his liking and you find that strange feeling growing stronger. You get a glimpse of him licking his pink lips that then perk up into a menacing smile and then the feeling grows too strong, forcing your eyes closed and your legs to combat his hold.

Your body can only shake as you gush around him and he curses under his breath at the sight. Your cunt spams around him and you squirt through his merciless fucking. The wet, squelching noises combat the volume of your cries to the point where he periodically goes out of his way to thrust into you even rougher just to hear it more.

“You hear her talking to me? Fucking shit- She really liked that, huh baby?” He laughs in disbelief and slams into you repeatedly, chasing his own sudden orgasm from watching you cum so intensely.

“That was so fucking hot, Baby.” The whine in his voice doesn’t match the cocky look on his face, but you can’t be bothered to comment about it as he finishes inside of you all of a sudden. Your sensitive walls constrict around him yet again and he cums deep inside, riding his own orgasm out to the sound of your overwhelmed sobs.

His chest heaves as he catches his breath and he takes the moment to glance at a clock on the wall. It’s been a few hours since he took the pills so they should be going down soon. He can already feel his brain going back to normal, and his thoughts are clearing up as the two of you sit there unmoving.

“You… Are you ok, Honey?” Your sniffles are enough to make his heart drop into his ass, but when you look up at him the anxiety leaves his body. You smile at him through the tears and laugh as best as you can while still breathless.

“Holy shit, Felix.” He matches your chuckle and leans forward, slotting your legs on either side of his waist as he repeatedly pushes his lips against your cheek. “I’m… great. But you owe me for fucking me within an inch of my life like that with no warning.”

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess

@dreamingaboutjisung @everythingboutkpop @velvetmoonlght @4l17h4

@felixsangelicfreckles

[urfavleo777]

the only thing i need in my life is soft morning sex with Joost and just being so needy and loving for each other🙏🙏 (praise kink makes my brain go brrr😩)

love your work!❤️

lazy mornings

joost klein x fem!reader

warnings: face-sitting, language, smut.

your eyes open lazily under the influence of sunlight from outside the window. you mentally scold yourself and your boyfriend for not closing the curtains, but you were too busy with each other last night to even remember.

it’s quiet, save for the soft snores filling your ears. with the way your body is tangled with joost’s, you feel his steady breathing, his face happily buried in the crook of your neck.

this is one of the first times you wake up first. usually joost is the early bird who gets up just before the alarm goes off. the result of opening your eyes first was last night's drinking with friends. joost, well he drank way too much. so it's inevitable that he'll wake up with a huge hangover.

“god morgen, beautiful.” his morning voice is always so deep — raspy. you shut your eyes again, murmuring a greeting back at him as he props himself up a little to kiss you on the cheek. “ouch, my head.”

“do you need medicine, love?”

“no,” he yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. “i need only you.”

you laugh, starting to run your finger along jooste's tinted cheek. he closes his eyes under your touch, enjoying each new movement. a blissful little sigh slips from his lips, as he nuzzles into your palm. you lean forward to smear a kiss against his forehead, overcome with fondness; warm lips lingering on his skin.

you admire every one of his features, ghosting your hand over his bare skin. he always looks beautiful, of course, but especially when he has his eyes closed. it is mornings like these you most adore — a quiet moment to contrast your loud, busy life. a moment alone with your lover, with your thoughts. when you stop the scratching, he grabs your hand and places a long kiss on it.

he hums, before whispering, lips tickling the edges of your ear on purpose, pouting, “mh, continue.”

he’s a little too pretty, like this. framed by the hazy sunshine, like something out of a dream. all soft clouds and gentle caresses, the scent of dried lavender, the pitter patter of rain against a windowsill. all things kind and comforting. 

“i don’t want you to fall asleep again.” you laugh quietly, burying your hands in his messy blonde hair.

you’re afraid that your heart might give out, if you look at him for too long.

joost finally opens his blue eyes and, you take back your words, he is even more beautiful than ever.

being in joost’s arms is pure bliss. the most grounding sensation you know, one that never fails to calm you down, no matter how stressed or anxious you’re feeling. with his broad chest and strong arms, his bergamot-scented skin. so doting, pressing little kisses to your shoulder, trying to console you. his hair tickles your cheek a little, but it’s comforting.

“what’s wrong, honey?” he questions, voice set on a low, particularly soothing lilt. coaxing, almost cooing — a tone that buzzes with safety. his big hands go to rest on your head and back, smoothing down your spine.

”nothing,” you sniffle. feeling a little silly. “you’re just too perfect. ‘s not fair.”

a pause. 

then, a chuckle bubbles up from joost’s throat. something fond and delightful unfurls in his chest, a kind of relief; a feather-light amusement.

”ah, is that so?” he drawls, a lazy amusement flickering through his eyes. playful. “don’t you have enough after yesterday?”

“never.” you shake your head, smiling deviously.

“sit on my face then.” he shuffles further down on the bed, lifting his head away from the pillow. “go ahead. make yourself comfortable.”

as you obey, you feel a tingling sensation down on your lower belly, butterflies awakening as you place your knees in between his head. “such a pretty look.” you squeal when he tugs your thighs closer, his mouth immediately attaching to your wet pussy. joost growls deeply, feeling the vibrations on your cunt.

your mind goes into a state of bliss, your hands grabbing his hair tightly. “that’s right,” he says between licking your cunt, “fucking grind yourself on me, mhmm…”

“oh, baby,” you whimper, closing your eyes as your hips unconsciously hump his face, “i think i’m gonna cum.”

he replies with a deep “mhm?” and doesn’t stop playing with your engorged, sensitive clit. he laps his tongue on your pussy like an animal, his big hands gripping your thighs so tightly that they might leave handprints.

your legs shake as you climax, your hands reaching behind you to grab ahold of his thighs. he licks all the cum spilled out of you.

but joost doesn’t stop.

your eyes expand when he continues to drink up all your juices, lapping his tongue against your throbbing bud again and again, nonstop. the overstimulation makes you pull away, but he stops you.

“we’re not done,” he grumbles, “not fucking done eating your pussy.”

joost’s mouth and jaw were soaked in your wetness, and that’s clearly what he likes. joost likes it messy, he likes to eat your pussy like it was his last meal. and seeing you on top of him like this — being a good girl to take his tongue, learning how to subdue the overwhelming sensations and instead take pleasure in them, he plans to reward you after this.

“i—i’m cumming,” you barely say in a whisper, mouth agape.

joost chuckles menacingly as you spill all over him once again. he watches in awe how your body trembles, struggling to keep yourself up.

“good girl,” he kisses your inner thigh. “you’re more valuable than all the medicines in the world.”

[turnfires-secret]

Kinich x top male reader? Imagine that Kinich limps a little after their night with reader, and while reader is trying to make amends, Ajaw makes fun of them in every possible way. That would be fun lmao😭

Anon ilysm i've been craving a reason to write ajaw for days now and I finally get my excuse!

This isn't really smut tho... sorry if I've disappointed anyone!

Payment Due | Kinich X Male Reader

It’s beyond hot inside your shared bedroom. How long had the two of you been at it? Neither you nor Kinich could recall. Kinich has buried his face into the crook of his arm again, trying to keep himself quiet. It doesn’t bring the Turnfire hunter any sort of mercy from the ruthless unending pleasure plaguing his mind, seeing as you just start fucking him harder fueled by the desire to listen to the whorish sounds that slipped from his mouth.

When Kinich wakens the next morning he’s met with a terrible sticky sensation and… as per usual, the most aggravating sound Kinich had heard in his whole life.

“Ew! You humans really are disgusting! I’d have never expect my own servant to engage in such… foul, vile, unholy, unsanitary acts of sacrilege in the close presence of the mighty dragon lord, Ku���hul Ajaw! “

Attempting to ignore Ajaw’s incessant yapping, Kinich takes a deep breath and gets up out of bed… Only to realize the pain and agony that came with such a task. Actually, phrasing it that way is abit too… dramatic. What he was actually facing was the aches and pains of post sex. Kinich is limping, and (to make the situation worse) Ajaw notices. 

“Oh? Did that puny human you drool over fuck you that hard to the point you can’t walk straight?! Wait- Meheheheh! maybe today’s my lucky day! You should go outside and try fight a pack of those idiotic tribal warriors and die!”

“I’m not that stupid, now leave me alone”

Kinich replied, taking yet another deep breath before going to the bathroom and taking a shower. The dendro user finishes his shower, feeling much more refreshed and awake despite the fact he’s still limping. Changing into some fresh clothes he feels your arms around his waist and your head nuzzle into his shoulder. 

“Well good morning to you too”

“Mhhh~ Kinichhh why are you up so early….?”

To Kinich, the sound of your voice was always the best part of his day.

“It’s far from early my love, Infact, it’s 11 am”

“Still too early…”

“EW, DISGUSTING LOVE BIRDS, YOU MAKE ME SICK!”

Theres a pause in the room before you and Kinich both decide to once more completely ignore the yelling pixelized projection. 

“Moving on, you, should be paying me compensation.”

Even though your voice was the best medicine for the aloof warrior, you were still not exempt from his habit of counting costs. To Kinich, it seems his aching grievance was enough to warrant payment.

“Wh- payment?!”

“Because of your prior actions i now find it hard to walk normally, so personally, i think you should pay the prince, no?”

“Personally i think you should charge them has much as you can, Kinich!” (Ajaw says, bardging into the conversation only to get ignored)

“Wh- Alright then~ For payment how about… we go another round?”

You respond, your voice now holding that seductive tone you seemed to enjoy using with him. 

His neck is sensitive after last night’s activities. You bite down, hard enough for him to feel it. Such an action’s associations mixed with such sensitivity forced a needy whine from Kinich’s throat, aswell as changes the Turnfire warrior’s mind. 

“... fine, i have time to spare… just… be abit more gentle this time, will you?”

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐎𝐑 .

# with trafalgar law.

your captain was nothing if not thorough — and as talented doctor, he offered quite a luscious method to help with your cramps.

⎰ & KINKTOBER. smut (mdni!). period sex. bloodplay. fingering (reader!receiving). blood!tasting (menstrual blood, yes). afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.3k.

trafalgar law was a doctor — sadistic, yes; self-taught, of course; but one regardless. his mind was attuned to his crew’s health properties, from allergies, to those who had a lower immunity system; from the divergent blood types to medical-related phobias. bepo hated oral medicine with overly sweet tastes; jean bart, although sizable, could not stand needles. and you had a set of quite awful cramps, enough to leave you bedridden until the week’s ending. it was, without an ounce of doubt, your most prominent issue — the one who bought him the greater worry. it left him wary enough then, yet said coddling had a gradual increase once he engaged in a relationship with you.

law had the interval of your period scheduled; committed to memory. pain medicines were reserved with the purpose of aiding you; thermal bags were both heated and freezed beforehand. he researched herbs with soothing properties and went as far — a proof of his love, he would add — as inquiring the straw-hats’ cook on teas that could, somehow, offer some respite. law had tried on a dozen sets of solutions, which one to no avail, for your ache lingered regardless of the chosen method. it left him with an ever-present bitter taste at the tip of his tongue, as the man was unused to said hopelessness, all but forced to sit back and witness your pain without a decent manner with which to soothe it.

you were not present for breakfast that morning, whereas bepo had a sheet with your shifts and duties, dividing them with shachi. for your pain was too sharp, you were granted a week-worth of rest, unallowed to lift a weight heavier than a plume. ikkaku had then entered the shared kitchen, holding an emptied cup — whose previous contents he presumed to be water — and discarding a plastic, pill bottle of a potent medicine he had prepared, a week prior. ikkaku informed him that you were resting — a bit nauseous, as expected, yet nothing quite worrisome — and though the woman had not read underneath the lines of what you stated, law understood it well enough. you were discarding his lingering aid, willing to withstand the cramps without him, for law grew twice as frustrated every month, and you had noted.

he left the kitchen right thereafter, his mood souring. it was ridiculous; unfathomable. law was a doctor — a surgeon — who had healed life-threatening diseases and wounds, yet failed to soothe the merest cramps; to offer comfort to the one he loved the most. he clicked his tongue, rummaging through the books in his office, convinced that he was but missing something, prideful enough to refuse the perspective of succumbing to a thing such as morphine.

nerves. brain chemicals. it should not have taken him that long to figure that out, but it did — and he was fuming. orgasms increased the blood flow; released endorphins; decreased the levels of cortisol. how could have he forgotten that? law clicked his tongue regardless, filled with clear annoyance at himself as he strived for your shared bedroom with ikkaku, delighted, at last, at the fact neither of you would be bothered, for the crew, too, was well-aware of the intensity of your pain.

he knocked — once, twice. not an answer was received, yet law entered regardless, eyes getting used to the overall darkness of the room, granting him the sight of your figure underneath the bed sheets. he approached you, placing a hand on your forehead; relieved to know you were far from feverish. your knees were pressed to your chest, and he could see slight eye-bags, pointing to a clear lack of sleep due to the pain. you were dozing off, unaware of your surroundings, set for a nap. he felt a pang of guilt as his arms removed you from your solace, holding you bridal-style, the activation of his powers leading you both to his own bedroom.

“law?” you inquired, nuzzling closer, a bit confused at the sudden shift. your voice was rough — pained —, and he caught himself filled with the urge to protect you, yet again.

“did i wake you?” he murmured, landing you on the mattress with certain tenderness.

“no,” you lied, ever more comfortable at the press of the sheets under your sore body.

law hummed, not believing a thing, yet not willing to pester you either. instead, he placed a set of pillows under your hips, caressing your cheek with calculated gentleness.

“i figured something that might help,” law whispered, allowing his hand to travel down your neck.

“i took some pills a while ago,” you meekly pointed out, sighing in relief as his fingers brushed against your collarbone. “and that infusion you made me drink tasted like shit. no offense.”

“none taken,” he reassured, licking his lips as his eyes swallowed the sight of you. “it’s a more pleasant one, if you’re willing.”

you stared at him through a half-opened eye, intrigued despite the context. you wore a thin, silken nightgown, the straps slipping past your shoulders, not much left for the imagination. it gave him a glimpse of your curves; your breasts; the underline of your underwear. law spared a mere glance at his sheets, deciding the incessant brushing of the blood stains right thereafter would be far worth it, so long as he could claim you. his hand hovered over your covered intimacy, applying a natural pressure, however neither forceful nor demanding.

“if you’re willing”, law repeated, and you licked your lips, wincing ever-so-slightly at a sudden, sharp pang. he could see the mental effort required for the production of words, soothing your unspoken worries with a caress of his thumb. law was a doctor; blood did not phase him, rather brought forward certain excitement. he all but wished for you to understand that. “i’m willing.”

“are you sure?” you croaked out, pain so sharp you could barely keep your eyes open.

“let me take care of you,” he pleaded, with half the mind to be ashamed of the desperation in his own tone.

you offered him a curt nod of agreement; limp frame conceding to his guiding touch. law raised the nightgown past your arms, throwing it somewhere in the room. with his knees sunk on the mattress, frame towering over your laid one, he began removing your underwear, shuddering with anticipation at the sight of blood staining your pad. he hummed, regretting the eagerness that led to a lack of proper preparation, for he had neither towels nor medical gloves to contain the flow of your period. yet, his mind could not help but point out a singular thought — did he care enough about the mess to be bothered, when you were in such dire need for relief? indeed, he didn’t.

with particular attention, he discarded the underwear and panties on the ground, allowing your hips to be supported by the pillows, without a single preoccupation regarding the possible blood stains. instead, lithe fingers trailed down towards your intimacy, a pair traveling through your folds; testing the waters. law leaned forward in order to have a proper glimpse of your expressions, yet failing not to have his eyes wander to your hardening nipples. he hummed, index meeting your clit as he drew circular, slow movements on it.

the texture of menstrual blood did not seem so far off that of your pre-cum. perhaps thicker, a bit warmer, with the biggest divergence being the color; nothing else. as a digit busied itself with your swollen bud, law teased your entrance with his pinky, grunting as a clot of blood brushed against the touch.

“talk to me, baby,” he rasped out, eyes tethered to your face as his thumb increased the pace of its ministrations on your clit.

you breathed out meekly, fingers gripping the sheets, nose scrunched as you grew accustomed to the stimulation. the blood made the sliding of his thumb faster; erratic. the lascivious sound of your aroused cunt filling the room. law felt his mouth grow dry at the sight, diving into one of your breasts, swirling, warm tongue on the hardened nipple being the solution he found in order not to lap at your blood instead. your back arched, a drawn-out mewl escaping past your opened lips as he ceased the teasing of your clit, wrist angled in a way that had his index and middle finger sliding inside your entrance with extreme ease.

“faster,” you pleaded, a bit of strength returning to your voice.

law thrusted his fingers, knuckle deep, attempting to reach the deepest inches of your walls. the natural shade of his skin returned mingled with red, the tattooed E and A but a mere memory of black underneath the crimson curtain. it was stickier than the river-stream texture of one’s blood, a stubborn line connecting the middle of his fingers, breaking apart only when they were shoved inside yet again, scissoring your walls with regained fervor. he spared a glance towards your growing blissful expression, grunting at the flutter of ideas that wrapped themselves around his mind, failing to ignore the possibilities as his own blood flushed to his hardening cock.

it smeared the fabric of the pillowcase and trailed down his palm, and law spared a brief ounce of attention to the other, neglected breast, using his free fingers to pinch at your nipple before his lips detached themselves from your chest with a single ‘pop’. he adored your tits — really, could not phantom a week without his mouth sucking bruises on it — but on that particular moment, law wanted to observe the in-and-out of his fingers inside your cunt, to commit the blood-coated digits to memory. the tip of his index abused your g-spot and he all but licked his lips, starved for a taste.

your moans were but an angel’s choir, and law had to fight the urge to let a pathetic whimper of his own escape past his lips, for he was, at last, helping you; being the one to demolish the source of your pain. yet, despite his own previous delay, he could not help but to be a little egotistical, lust clouding his scarce selflessness.

“is it better?” he questioned, and you nodded meekly, eyes dazed; pupils blown.

“y-yes,” you stuttered. “don’t stop, please.”

and though his legs began to ache and his cock ached amidst the coffins of his underwear and jeans, law increased the tempo of his thrusts, adding a third finger at the assurance that your walls were parted enough. you bit the back of your hand, swiftly muffling a shout. law groaned, using the thumb of his other hand to draw circles on your clit, marveling at the speed with which blood invaded the inside of his nail; smeared the poor digit.

“i’m close, baby,” you warned, without a need per say, for he noted the approach of your orgasm through the manner with which you clenched around him; impossibly tighter.

“let go for me,” he encouraged, retreating his fingers to the point of his nails before thrusting them yet again, knuckles bloodied; palm sticky.

your entire figure trembled, legs desperate; back jumping from the mattress. his glance was enraptured by the sight of your cum, white mingled with red, an ever-crescent battle whose stage was the pillow underneath, growing wet and dark at the onslaught of your essences. law removed his fingers, raising them to the light, obsessed with the strings intertwined around them; the state of his nails; the memories of parted clots staining the digits. he was but hypnotized, ignoring the confused calling of his name, the ever-so-grateful words you poured into his ears. instead, law began to drag his bloodied fingers on the flesh of your bare stomach, pupils blown with lust as the shade of you, too, grew smeared.

law wiped his fingers clean, and was swift to insert two of them inside your sensitive entrance. your body the canvas, whereas your cunt was the pallet, sheltering the red dye that would grant him the creation of a masterpiece — one he strived to ruin, for law was far from an accomplished, patient painter. he continued with the drag of his fingers on your flesh, from your ribs to your hip-bones; from your breasts to the spot under your navel. at every brief thrust of his fingers, teasing of your folds, you sucked in a harsh breath, your entire body reacting to the somewhat overstimulation.

when law could not hold himself back any longer — the famished beast gnawing underneath his ribcage — he dived in, tongue wiping the mess he had made. law left long stripes of saliva in its wake at every lick, his mouth sucking newer bruises on certain inches of flesh. the taste was not as metallic as he had expected, not as strong, either. it had a lingering bit of salt amidst the iron, for it was mingled with your cum, and both made for a thicker, stretchier combination on his tongue, an unique texture he had never tasted before. law spared particular attention to your breasts, hungrily lapping at it; collecting every last drop of lingering blood.

he distracted you from the fact that his pants and underwear had slid off from their previous position; that his leaking cock had slapped his stomach before he guided the tip to your abused entrance. when law pushed an inch inside, your eyes widened, hands wrapping around his neck out of instinct.

“can i?” he inquired, pressing his palms against the mattress, one at each side of your head.

“yes,” you breathed out. “please, baby.”

law was careful, a languid shove of his hips stretching your walls until he bottomed out, grunting with his eyes closed. he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, breathing into your mouth as he began to move — thrusts with a wild tempo, the incessant chase for his own orgasm. a crown of blood wrapped itself around his tip, his entire girth a shade of bright red; pale pink. law hid his face in the crook of your neck, moaning as your hands slipped under this shirt, nails dragging on the bare skin of his back.

he brushed against your g-spot; thrusted himself deep enough to challenge your cervix. you moaned, pain long-forgotten as his tip all but drooled inside your walls, spreading them open without an ounce of mercy. law’s knees buckled; you began to squeeze his girth as though a ruthless, famished beast, so tight he would not be able to slide as freely, was it not for the present blood.

“cum for me again,” law encouraged, meeting your glance, his voice raw and desperate. “let me—ngh—take your pain, baby. c’mon.”

you whimpered, a broken, mute moan preceding the second tide of your orgasm after a particular harsh set of his thrusts. your expression, contorted in pleasure, had him removing his cock swiftly, pumping it twice before shooting his load on your stomach, mouth agape at the blood that surrounded his shaft; stained his palm. law struggled to collect his breath, shifting in order to sit on the mattress and offer his knees a well-deserved rest, one of his hands meeting your own as he intertwined your fingers together.

after prolonged, tired minutes spent in comfort within the walls of a bedroom that reeked of sex, sweat and blood, your voice echoed.

“i liked this method,” you whispered, and he angled his head to get a glimpse of your face.

“yeah, me too.”

— 🐈‍⬛ : damn this writer’s block got hands!!!! jokes aside, i love freaky law!!!! send more freaky law requests i’m going to get thru this writer’s block 👏 by writing more 👏.

[lokis-army-77]

In Thanks

Masc!Mizu x fem reader

Word Count: 1.8k

You have been traveling with Mizu for a little bit and you can't help the feelings that have developed. Maybe it's time for a thank you.

Warning: 18 +. oral sex, fingering, slight choking, scissoring. I think that's it...

A/N: Be forewarned, Mizu is referred to as "he" the whole fic except for one instance.

Masterlist

You had become his traveling companion in a series of fortunate and unfortunate events. 

Unfortunately, your father had sold you to the flesh traders for money he could use to save the farm from disrepair. 

While on the road to another town, the two traders had begun to fight, Mizu was haplessly brought into the scrap when he was seen by the two agitated men. They turned their sights on the lone man just trying to pass by. 

Fortunately, he had killed your owners. At first, he was intent on escorting you to the nearest town and leaving you there in pursuit of his revenge, only that plan changed when you had proved to be useful when it came to medicine. 

A few weeks later left you here, on the outskirts of a small remote seaside town.

Mizu's eyes watch you from the other side of the campfire. They flick so subtly, catching your every move, or lack thereof as you continue to stare. 

It hadn't taken you long to learn the secret he was hiding or rather she was hiding. There were subtle tells, ones that no one would be able to notice or think back on or they were just passersby. But you had been at his side for nearly two months and it was so obvious to you.

"Would you quit staring- it's rude." Mizu quips before going back to cleaning his blade. 

You don't listen. Keeping your eyes firmly glued on his movements, the flexing of muscles under his skin, and the touch of his slender fingers rubbing at the blood on his sword. All of it made your knees weak.

While you had been with Mizu on the road, you had begun to develop feelings for the stoic warrior. Feelings of love and lust. Only now did you feel brave enough to do something about it, and act on these feelings no matter the consequences. 

Your thighs clenched as you continued to watch him. Now was as good a time as any. 

Mizu only tilts his head in your direction when the sound of you standing reaches his ears. Twigs snap under your feet as you make your way closer to him. he turns fully to you now, analyzing whatever it is you could be doing, and why you were nearing him. 

“What do you want?”

You didn’t want to come right out and say it, so you spoke coyly. “I never thanked you properly for saving me. I thought I could do that now.”

“You’ve thanked me enough.” 

“But I haven’t done all that I could. Please, Mizu, allow me to thank you fully.” You’re right next to him now, slowly lowering yourself to your knees. 

Sultry eyes lock on suspicious ones.

With gentle hands, you reach out for his glasses. he leans away only slightly, not far enough to be out of your reach. 

You place them safely on the stool-sized rock beside you. 

“Let me see your sword.”

She breathes your name heavily. 

Your hand caresses over his shoulder, teasing and soft. 

"I'm not what you think." Mizu murmurs just loud enough for you to hear.

You pause before you answer. "You think I don't know? That I do not see past the defense and deeper within? I know." 

His words catch in his throat. "-how?"

"You aren't the first I've seen that have hidden their sex from the world, and you won't be the last." Your fingers loosen the string tying up his hair. The silky strands begin to fall, making his all the more stunning. 

"I've learned to see what many do not and what others would like to keep hidden... call it a gift."

You let your lips fall to the shell of his ear and whisper, “Now, let me see your sword.”

Reaching into his lap, you grasp the hilt of the blade. Carefully you take the katana and sheth it before setting it near the rock. 

She doesn’t stop you when you begin to untie his pants or the obi around his waist. 

Clothes fall away leaving only warm, scarred skin bare to you. Mizu’s breathing deepens as the binds around his chest are removed. 

Slowly you crawl over his body, forcing him to lie back on the cape he used as a blanket. 

Your eyes scanned over his every curve, curves hidden away by the straight lines of men’s clothes. The cool night air had his nipples pebbling and his skin littered with goosebumps. 

With lust-filled eyes, you descend on him. Lips making contact with his own. It wasn’t tender, no it was needy. You wanted him, all of him and he wanted you too. his hands reach your face, pulling you in deeper. 

The kiss leaves you breathless but you continue to kiss him, pulling away from his lips to kiss down the column of his neck and to his chest. You wet your lips hungrily as you take his peeked nipple into your mouth, your other hand teasing the other. 

Teeth nip and pull at the sensitive skin. Your tongue laves over him, pulling out a soft moan of your name. It has you smirking into the supple flesh. 

You trail down further, peppering kisses over taut abs before you come to the place you have so desperately craved to be. The smell is sweet but you know the taste will be even sweeter.

“Thank you, Mizu.” You pull apart his strong, slender legs, inserting yourself between them. 

“Thank you.” You kiss the inside of a thigh then move to the other. “Thank you.”

You lay there with his legs thrown over your shoulders, admiring the pussy before you. Your mouth is watering as you trail a single finger over the slit. 

Mizu sucks in, body tensing, preparing. 

You move your mouth in closer, tongue lapping at the wetness between his folds. The taste had you moaning, the sweet yet heady taste filled your mouth and you knew you'd never get enough of it now. 

Pressing on, you began sucking Mizu's clit. Hands flew into your hair, tugging in pleasure. You could feel his nails scratching your scalp.

“Taste so good.” You hum against him. 

Your left-hand strokes over his firm abdomen while two fingers of your left slowly insert themselves inside Mizu's entrance. 

He's so warm and wet, clenching down around you, pulling you in with need. With lidded eyes, you look up, past the roaming landscape of his body, at his face. His brow is furrowed, pinched in pleasure as your fingers work into his walls. His mouth is open, jaw slacked as sweet gasp after sweet gasp erupts. It’s a wondrous sight to behold and all you’ve ever wanted to be privy to. 

Those gasps turn into short whimpers once your rhythm steadies out and your mouth sucks slightly harder on his clit. His hips buck up, pushing against your mouth as need courses through him. You feel like you’re in a trance, your eyes still locked onto his face as he continues to breathe heavily, lost in a pleasure escalating with each passing second. You keep going, determined to make him feel as incredible as possible.

The sloppy noises of you eating Mizu out have your stomach turning, fluttering with want. You know for certain that your own cunt is dripping, making a mess. You need more than just the pressure of your legs squeezing together, no, you need to feel Mizu against you. 

In the heat of the passion, you pull away. Mizu whines at the loss of your fingers and mouth. “What are-” He stops his question short. You’re throwing off the layers of your clothes, tossing them haphazardly around the forest floor.

With determination you crawl over one of his legs, slotting yourself against him. A breathy sigh leaves your lips when you lower yourself. 

With slow subtle rotations of your hips, you begin to feel the want bubbling in your belly pouring forth. The feel of his cunt against your own is like heaven. Your clit rubbing against his sends a jolt through you. 

“Fuck, I’ve never- ah- I’ve never done this.” He grunts. One hand holds you by the hip, guiding you as you grind down. Your own hands hold fast on his thigh in front of you. 

“Neither have I,” You answer between choppy moans. 

As you piston your hips, you can feel the wetness between the two of you growing. You both groan in pleasure, your hands moving to explore each other's bodies. His fingers trace circles around your breast and you shiver in delight. You heave when Mizu’s hand reaches for your throat and pulls you down into a kiss.

His tongue slips past your lips, pushing back against your own. You may be on top and in control at the moment, but there simmering below Mizu’s surface was a want to flip you both over and take the pleasure that had been so far from his mission of revenge, he had forgotten what it felt like to feel another persons touch in this manner. 

Your back arches at the growing ecstasy within your body and Mizu’s hand tightens. The air is stolen from your lungs for only a moment before he lets go, moaning into your kiss. 

 “Thank you.” You repeat once more. 

You can feel the ache in your abdomen as you move, you’re coming closer and closer to release, and by the way that Mizu is rutting his hips against you, strong and needy, you know he’s close too. 

“Look at me.” You plead, “Wanna see your pretty eyes.”

A deep red blush rises across Mizu’s cheeks at your words, not used to the compliment. The blush makes the topaz color stand out. You could stare into those eyes forever, get lost, and never leave. 

Your bodies move in unison, your ragged breaths become one as you both tip toward the edge. With one more thrust, with one more rub of your clits, your bodies tense. Your mouth opens in a silent scream of pleasure while Mizu lets out a wavering cry.

The movement of your hips slows to a stop and you fall in a heap over Mizu’s body. Tiredly you kiss the sweat-dampened skin of his chest, and he shivers. “Thank you.” You mummer one last time. 

Mizu’s hands hold you close, one in your hair, the other flat across your back. “You don’t have to keep thanking me.” 

“I know,”  you look up into his eyes, “but I want to.”

He keeps eye contact as he wipes the hair from your face. “I appreciate this… I haven’t felt this way in a long while.” 

It’s an intimate moment, one of understanding without having to speak. So, you rest your head and close your eyes, too warn out to redress and too tired to move. Mizu also doesn't move to push you away, you take that as a sign that whatever this is, it has a very good chance of happening again. 

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬, 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: stop, you’re losing me || part two: in the trees, in the breeze (here)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ your memory kept haunting Coriolanus Snow, so he found the way to end his exile. It’s a new era, but the same old feelings between Coriolanus and you keep causing scandals. Although, you are not ready to let go the pain he caused to you.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ Capitol ballerina!reader, angst, drama, violence and death lol, jealousy, unhinged Coriolanus, sex mentions, reader still has health problems, etc. 13k words fic IM SORRY

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ hear this along Can’t catch me now, I’m not an OR fan but I love that song from her. I mean, who didn’t? And thank you for the wait and loveeeee. PLEASE TELL ME OF ANY ERRORS BC I CAN’T BE ALMOST ACCUSED OF BEING TRANSPHOBIC PLEASEEEE

♪ ♫ awful Coriolanus Snow playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

_____________________________________________

Red, blue, red, red, yellow, green, green, pink.

Every color is correctly marked. A nurse smiles with some papers on her hand before she dissapears.

You can get dressed again. The color test was done, your vision was okay.

Purple and green bruises are scattered across your skin. Some appeared on your inner thighs. Two on your knees and one on the ribs from the day you collapsed after the post-Hunger Games celebration. You sigh covering your skin with a long floral dress. The reflection of yourself on the mirror salutes you with a tired, broken and sad face. It makes you force a smile, pretending more people were watching you. The room in empty though.

“Everything is fine. Your body is responding well to the shots.” A doctor asks as soon as he walks in into the room.

“The only thing that worries me is your mental health. Have you been stressed or has anything happened to you that could be considered a traumatic experience?”

The pointe shoes soaked in blood. The unstoppable bleeding on your feet. The late nights with panic attacks and over thinking. That young blonde man and the songbird together. The night on dressing room, how your hand burned after slapping the man so hard. The shock of all the events surrounding your life two weeks ago. How you lost control, your head spinning, blurred vision, heart pounding, numb arms and how you felt the oxygen was leaving. All the things you did for someone who never deserved you, making you shatter, fainting as soon as you finished dancing.

“Miss y/l/n… Are you okay?” The distant voice of the doctor breaks your bubble. You shake your head in disguise before turning away from the mirror, facing him and smiling politely.

“Yes, I’m fine. I was very stressed, yeah. Working with the production of the Hunger Games. My artistic performances, last days at the Academy. It was a lot…” the doctor sighs, annotating something. He then handed you the paper.

“I’m giving you some treatment for that. And please, you have to be careful and calm. Only that way the medicine will help everything to work here” he points his head. You nod, accepting the paper.

After that, you leave the private hospital. Trevor is there, your chauffeur and friend. He smiles, opening the door for you.

“Thank you, Trevor” he starts the car soon after.

“Is everything okay?” You nod, looking at the bright day at the Capitol.

“I just need to relax and eat well.” Trevor had trimmed his hair. It made him look younger, making you smile at the memory of him saying his wife was his hairstylist.

“Good. Oh, I received a call from your mother. This woman…uh, Dr. Volumnia Gaul? She wants to see you at the Univeristy today” you frown to look at him confused.

“Oh? So… Can we go now?” He nods, turning left to start the route. Meanwhile, you wonder what could she want. You made your part, the games had a higher amount of viewers compared to last year. You engaged with the production and the celebration was at full capacity. Your little accident even made it more attractive to the media. Appearing on the papers and magazines across Panem.

And after everything, you still wanted to keep dancing. Or else range would consume you.

…

It’s the first time you step inside the Capitol’s University. It’s very similar to the Academy, but the floor tiles are green and white. There’s a lot of white, cream, golden and black decorating the halls and long stairs.

Since it’s summer, most of the building was empty. Only some of the staff, and very few people who seemed like students. You see they dress very elegant. Some women wore hats with feathers or flowers. The men wore classy suits and you genuinely thought you would fit in.

You couldn’t wait to have some sense of normality as a Univeristy student along Clemensia and Lysistrata. Your only close friends left. Well, also Festus and Sejanus. At the time, you didn’t event know your dear friend was dead.

What seems like the private office of Gaul has a red door. Inside, she had a laboratory, smaller but weirder than the one you had seen before. Full of dissected creatures, tanks and crystal containers with unknown chemicals.

Some steps further and you see her desk, where she is collecting some folders and putting them away in some shelves.

“Glad to see you breathing, miss y/l/n…” somehow you found the humor to smile coldly.

“As you can see.” You reply standing perfectly correct.

“By this point you should know what happened to Mr. Snow” goosebumps make you shake your shoulders slightly, you nod again.

“He was exiled. Twenty years. He lied to me and did not said a thing about cheating on the games”

“Indeed. However this morning, I just discovered he bribed a woman to be sent to District 12.” You bite your tongue to hide your fury. A hot feeling invade your chest in rage. But you just breathe, failing to not show discontent.

“That’s not any of my business anymore.” Even Gaul seems taken aback. However, she doesn’t say anything, she just keeps pulling away the pile of folders.

“Well, since it seems you both parted ways… I must share that I’m deleting any record or data related to the 10th Hunger Games. Too many things happened before, during and after the games. Things that would compromise the reputation of the whole organization. Including me, the Academy, the mentors, you and Mr. Snow” honestly, you don’t know what to say. You just frown slightly, demonstrating how confused you were. But you also understood with half of the context. The death of Arachne, Coriolanus and his odd ways to make his songbird oustand, the rebel attack, Lucy Gray Baird winning from cheat. And the things you didnt know like Sejanus entering the arena.

However, you stick to your parent’s advice. You have to think about you and anyone else.

“I understand. But I did my part. I completed my task so I hope this decision doesn’t jeopardize my grant” she smiles. Dr. Gaul secretly believed that you and Coriolanus Snow could rule Panem together. In a sick and evil way, so she really hoped her dark intentions would work.

“Of course not. We had a deal. The views went up this year. You brought a new vision for the promotion that I’ll hardly let go.” The ambition started tickling you. Making you roll your tongue inside your closed mouth, at the verge of opening it and talking.

“Good.”

“In fact, you would be a nice option to become head of the promotion and relations team.” From the last games, you realized the director only gave instructions but he rarely did the dirty job. You liked having some power over the games. And now, a childish and unjustified resentment towards District 12 made you smile as Gaul offered you a new job.

“Is it a possible option to be working in behalf of my mother’s institution?”

“You’re very smart, y/n y/l/n. You are going further than Mr. Snow” your smile only grows, knowing you are nit being correct. You are letting the rage and resentment to guide you. You will make your last name shine brighter than your parents did. Just to rub it in the face of certain blonde who was now exiled. Probably savoring the country life of District 12.

“I just want to make my family’s name bigger than it already is” the woman giggles, taking out a red envelope and handing it you.

“I assume you’ll pursue the arts as you’re speciality. But if you want to get involved with the production, marketing and relations. You are taking politics and some lessons with me” when you look down at the envelope, the golden logo of the university is greeting you. It’s the admission letter.

“I expect to see you here by the end of the summer” you nod, thanking her.

And as you walk outside where Trevor is waiting for you, you have a cocky smile. Feelings like things could go better. You don’t even remember the doctor’s appointment you were in before coming to see Gaul.

…

Your soft hands gently brush against his forehead. Coriolanus had chills, he hadn’t had fever since he was 15 years old. But your hands are so soft even when they feel cold as ice. He just knows he’s in his bed. In his rottening penthouse. He can see a slightly blurred image of you, wearing a green dress, your hair in a braid, a golden necklace, dark purple lips. He can’t hear your words, but you are talking to him, spreading some cream across his chest, immediately he felt the mint soothing his cough and pain. He must’ve said something funny, because he can now see clearly your face, gorgeous as always. And he can clearly hear you laughing.

Coriolanus wakes up smiling. And he realised he was dreaming.

He was in a small and creaky lower bunk bed. Sejanus sleeping in the upper bunk. The sun hasn’t come up. And he’s a peacekeeper in District 12.

It’s been weeks since he left the Capitol. And since day one, you seem to be haunting him.

Current dreams of you, swearing to be hearing your voice. It makes him want to call you every single day. But he doesn’t. He was able to forget about you when he was in the peacekeeper training and duties. When he was with Lucy Gray any trace of you was gone. But as soon as he had a moment alone, he would remember everyhting about you.

He missed you. Painfully a lot.

Every Friday, he had been sending the letters. He hoped your mother would hand them to you. But Coriolanus knew you too well to know you likely would not be reading them. Nonetheless, he was letting himself to write the most vulnerable pieces of him, putting his heart on each word and phrase. Hoping that by the time his exile was over, you would have forgiven him.

When the sun came up, he was up along the rest of the boys. Sejanus gives him a friendly smile and they’re out exercising and doing jobs all day long. During his break, he’s able to seat in an old bench, with a beautiful view of an open green field.

That’s when he dreams of seeing you there, dancing or simply standing there with a sundress. Like the ones you used to wear on summer when he visited the house your parents had in District 4. He dreams so hard that he swears seeing the skirt of your dress swaying through the trees. And that’s when he knows he’s so fucked up.

But that’s long forgotten after the break is over. And by the night, he’s on the biggest bar of the town. He sees Lucy Gray singing something new. He honestly never understood the meaning behind her songs, but he was enchanted by her do what she loved.

After her live presentation, a big projector was introduced. They started playing the weather with Lucky Flickerman. Which made Coriolanus miss the Capitol so bad.

“They’re probably waiting for some women. That’s why the always start that thing” Lucy Gray said, appearing by his side and pointing at the projector. He smiled at her.

“To see women?” She nodded, grabbing a glass of cold water.

“You know how are men around here” with no tv around, no ostentatious lifestyles, men could get excited with little makeup and satin gowns. Coriolanus was disgusted by many mannerism of the 12. He had heard and seen many disapproving behaviors. But he was happy to be able to find some peace along the songbird.

“Yes, I know. What’s that thing by the way?” When Coriolanus turned around to see the old projector, he almost choked after seeing the big logo appearing.

It was the summer fundraising charity of your mother. Another luxurious gala to help the constructions of the Capitol after war. However, that wasnt the most impressive part for Coriolanus. Seconds after the recovered from seeing something directly related to his past, you appeared in the projector, entering the stage and getting in pose to start a performance.

Lucy Gray Baird was in shock. So if she was surprised, the men all around the bar where cheering and whistling.

There you were, with curled wet hair, metallic bronze makeup, wine lips, golden bracelets on your arms. But it was the attire. A two piece set that let your legs and stomach show off. With bare feet, and two elegant knives, one in each hand. Your cocky smile was back. And it was ruining Coriolanus Snow.

He literally jumped from his seat, leaving Lucy Gray to cross the river of men and properly see you.

She knew you had broken up with him. And that relieved the songbird, as she felt like she could let her feelings for Coriolanus flow freely. But seeing the boy literally hipnotized as soon he saw you, it made her feel uneasy. Deeply she knew that Coriolanus wasn’t over you. And no matter what, you were a sensible subject for him. That not even herself could ever test.

But he kept going. Each step meant hearing them say how good you looked, the places where they’d put their hands on your body. It boiled his blood.

But finally, the dance killed him. Because maybe for the capitol you were still elegant and classy. Their eyes would publicly appreciate your art, and privately let their mind wander with your half naked body. But for people from the 12. It was like throwing a piece of meat to lions in starvation.

With your hips swaying tentatively, pointed feet and letting everyone know how flexible you were. That sassy look on your face that Coriolanus was feeling too personal. It was like you were saying “look what you lost”.

He was used to see you in pastel tutus, hair in a bun. Not this goddess ritual dance type of thing. The music was very different, something very uncommon in Panem. He really wants to punch every man in the room. He sees how most of the women in the bar see your graceful image with disgust. And Coriolanus couldn’t blame them. But it made him remember that he had lost the right to call you his. And that intrusive thought made him automatically think he wanted to go back home so badly.

Your sensual and meticulous steps keep going, the knives making him remember the folk tales of women dancing with sharp objects to show fertility, honor of their kingdom and to seal a man’s faith. Every minute more desperate for Snow, who’s over the edge of hearing men say plenty of things about you. But soon, the music stops with you arched, pointed feet, your curls kissing the stage, the knives perfectly pointing like a clock.

Coriolanus doesnt miss your evil smile. He can sense you are changing. And he remember all the pain he caused you, making him sigh in resignation. His desire of going back for you only growing.

“I’m sorry I left like that” he explains to Lucy Gray. She notices how quick he drank his beer. She was a woman after all, she knew the effect a fine female could have on men. Especially on the man who was their lover. The one that probably hurt her and left her, ending their history in bad terms.

“It’s okay. I told you she was very pretty before” Coriolanus learns that Lucy Gray was not being sarcastic that day at the zoo.

…

It had come to the point where he couldn’t run away from his thoughts. Coriolanus was borderline obsessed with your memory. He constantly wondered how you were doing. He had to ask Tigris every time they talked to see learn anything about you.

For the first time, since he left the Capitol, Tigris shares that she had talked to you.

Coriolanus was surprised to hear that the reason you gave about the breakup was only because he cheated with Lucy Gray.

You didn’t said a word about him the lies, the last argument you two had. You only say that his songbird was special. And that you stopped to be what he needed.

Which was heavily mistaken. Some days before he accepted that you were the only thing he needed to keep going. He imagines a fake scenario where you came to the 12 with him. You find a humble home where you wait till his training is over. The lake where he spent hours with Lucy Gray and The Covey could’ve been hours with you. Talking about anything and everything. He would’ve come straight home to you when the training was over. Make love to you, promise to fight for a higher position, possibly as a commander one day and marrying you. And soon the years would’ve passed, his exile would be over and you would go back to the Capitol with him. Maybe some children along.

But that would never happen. And his delusion was starting to make him find a way to go back where he belonged.

He questioned if his urges where for power, or to get back with the woman he loved.

Whatever the reason was, a lot of people would pay the price. First were the daughter of the mayor and her partner, then the man who had the decency to hide the gun he used to kill those two. Who also happened to be his alleged best friend.

His hands trembling as he pressed to record Sejanus. But he knew there were high possibilities of being heard. And that way, he would go back. He would find you and slowly start again.

The death of Sejanus would haunt him for a long time. He knew he was a close friend of yours, which made him get chills, uneasy to decide what could be your reaction to the news. Either way, it was done. The heavens had to have heard him. He was offered to serve in District 2, gain some money and he could easily take the train to see you if anything.

But Lucy Gray had other plans. And Coriolanus wasnt even sure of what he was doing. Probably in his rambling and panic after everything he went through as a peacekeeper, one side of him wanted to run away and never see back again. To forget about his decisions as a mentor, to forget about his decisions as a peacekeeper and to forget about you. That way he would never have to face all the pain he caused you.

After some hours of walking, Coriolanus should have seen the signs.

“Everyone in the Covey are really good dancers. But I don’t think it’s my thing. I just have my voice…” Lucy Gray said, holding her bag tightly. Coriolanus only smiled, remembering how bad the songbird was when he tried to teach her how to waltz.

“Is it like… exclusive in the Capitol?”

“I think so. Today there’s only one institution, the mother of…” he goes quiet, realizing what he was about to say.

“…y/n?” She asked, almost nervous about mentioning your name. But in reality, she wasnt. After Coriolanus nodded, they just kept walking in silence.

“Her mother founded it?”

“It was her grandmother actually. Mine knew her, and they were kind of friends” he said smiling, trying to look away from Lucy Gray so he couldn’t see him smiling.

Once you leaned Coriolanus was financially struggling some years ago, you ended up visiting him for the first time. That day you learned Grandma’am was friend of your family before your mother was born. And that only made her appreciate you faster. Which made Coriolanus happy. Finally seeing her grandmother to let go the days of the war and any crazy ideas that stayed on her mind. All thanks to you.

“Grandma’am even started planting pink roses for her.” It slipped out automatically, he couldn’t control it.

“She’s like ink…” Coriolanus missed the point. But after some minutes of silence, he understood what Lucy Gray said. Which resulted true. Metaphorically, you were the brightest tint he’d ever seen. He let that ink fall and splash everywhere, leaving stains on him that probably would never leave.

And finally, Lucy Gray Baird fell to her end in the shallow woods. Hunted like a prey. By a broken man who decided to stop being good. Who was losing his mind for the pieces of a woman he let go so easily.

That changes like the destination of Coriolanus.

He’s going back to the Capitol. With tiny sparks of hope. But firmly believing that everyhting was meant to happen like that so he could go back to you.

However, as he came closer, Coriolanus realized he was lost. He had no idea what would await for him. And what version of you would greet him.

…

There isn’t an exact period over the Capitol that can’t be considered as autumn. The summer was practically over, and winter was already happening. Coriolanus had to wait longer than expected to get into University. In the meantime, he accepted the money from the Plinth family. He decided to get ahead of time. He used the last hot days to get Tigris and Grandma’am back to the penthouse. He bought the whole building and in two weeks the whole place was renewed. There was only one thing he couldn’t get rid of. The living room and entrance olive paint you brought. He painted the halls, dining room, studio and kitchen in a dark blue paint. But he wasnt able to get rid of the memories he made with you. His old self was long gone. But he had his supcisions that the version he was for you would never change.

However, he decided to stay afar from the public eye for that month after returning from exile.

Tigris said she hadn’t seen you. But that was okay. He would soon enter to University. He was going to see you there.

Eventually the day came. He gets rid off Casca Highbottom and then he walks towards the big and imposing University of the Capitol. He had a driver now, but he thought it wouldn’t be bad to use the mornings to walk.

In his first hours inside, he has private lessons with Dr. Gaul. Already mentoring him to be a game maker. She kind of suspects he was involved with the sudden death of Highbottom. But for some reason, Gaul has a lot of hopes in him, so she would easily act blind to keep her plans to keep going.

After that, Coriolanus starts looking out for you. He crosses the big seminar rooms and other halls. Until he is able to locate the arts building. It’s smaller but probably the most interesting. With a beautiful barroque facade. As soon as he enters, he sees a group of girls holding large canvas with beautiful paintings on them. Then, some steps later he spots two guys trying to carry a sculpture. Coriolanus believes that kind of modern art was the future of the Capitol. He had to admit the arts building was fully alive, he even forgot he was still at the university.

Coming down from some stairs, he sees two girls. A red haired and a tanned with black leotards and floral skirts are giggling. They seems like dancers, he doesnt think twice. He’s already approaching the girls.

“Excuse me, ladies. Do you know by any chance where I can find y/n y/l/n?” The girls look cheekily at each other, before smiling at him. Which makes Coriolanus wonder what type of rumours had been flowing around about you and him. Since mostly everyone knew the last Snow heir was dating the daughter of the kings of Panem´s television industry.

“She’s rehearsing a class for new students. It’s on the second floor, you’ll hear the music…” he thanks the tanned girl before going upstairs.

She wasn’t lying. He started hearing the classical piano music. He can hear some distant and low cheering. The whole floor is full of dancers. It’s a long hall, to the right, a big studio, with a classical mural, chandeliers and the most giant mirror he’d ever seen.

The people outside the studio see him with curiosity. But he only has eyes for the ballerina dancing all across the studio.

There you are, with a coral tutu, baby pink leotard and thighs. Your pointe shoes seem new. Your cheeks look so pink and your smile is there.

He has to understand that you have become popular enough to have your own fans. Some rumors said that your mother was offering master classes at the University. And he couldn’t help but think how much your family’s name have growth since he left.

He lost count of many turns you did, but you finish cleanly, offering a beautiful view of your tutu wadding. He can’t stop smiling.

People start a round of applauses. He debates whether to get closer or not. He doesnt have any speech prepared. He doesn’t know what to say to you.

“Coriolanus?” When he turns around, he sees Clemensia Dovecote there. Her old study buddy looked older, but not in a bad way. He saw the scales on her skin. But he didnt had to ask, he knew it was because of the rainbow snakes. It just seemed weird to see her short sleeves but turtleneck, rather than her trying to cover all of her face.

“Clemensia” he greets her. Clemmie was probably your female best friend. It wasnt a surprise that suddenly the woman seemed to dislike him.

“Since when you returned?” He looks back at you again. As the music keeps playing, he just smiles. He know the way things would now work. With no how are you questions or anything like the past.

“Some weeks ago.” Clemensia looks like she’s analyzing every movement and word of him.

“Why are you here?” Her hostile tone only makes Coriolanus to act more relaxed than he already is.

“I made the promise to come back for y/n…” the woman stares at him, probably taken aback.

“She doesn’t need this, Coriolanus. She can’t have this” Clemensia had visited you at the hospital. She learned most of his lies towards you. She knew you didn’t deserved to fall again. And especially not because of him.

“I know, Clemmie. I won’t be a burden for her” the music stops, and Coriolanus decides that it’s not time to talk to you yet. So he smiles once again to Clemensia.

“I hope so. Because you already failed her once…” his smile drops. Clemensia dissapears to get inside the studio. Coriolanus stares at you one last time, before he silently walks out.

…

Before you can reach your glass of posca, a porcelain plate with your food slides on the way. A soft piece pile of fried little steaks, with melted cheese and a golden sauce of mushrooms dripping. Your stomach churns and it makes Clemensia laugh.

She had a salmon fine cut with caviar and other exotic stuff. It was a beautiful afternoon to have dinner at one of the most elegant restaurants of the Capitol Downtown.

“Bless your food.”

“Bless your food” you reply back to her.

“So, How it went the rehearsal?” You roll your eyes giggling.

“It was great, until the girls taking the masterclass appeared to see me” your father was right. After working in the production of the 10th Hunger Games, many doors opened for you. Splendid career opportunities here and there. Only that you didn’t enjoy a lot of attention.

“Are they still at the Academy” you nod.

“Rich girls who can make their parents pay the classes of course” Clemensia smiles, drinking a little bit before getting back to eat.

“Coriolanus was looking for you…” you literally stopped eating. You almost drop your fork, but you decided to hold it firmly.

“What?”

“Apparently he’s back.” She reveals. Making you close your eyes in panic.

“How? He was exiled” you say whispering. Clemmie shrugs.

“Gaul. He’s her pupil star. And with Dean Highbottom dead now…” it must’ve been great for Coriolanus to learn the man was gone. Always putting him in the lowest, it was a mark for change.

“Doesn’t matter, I won’t let this get into my way” she smiles.

“What about what your father said?” During a late lunch, you had been talking with your parents, revealing that you broke up with Coriolanus because he cheated. Your mother was shocked, but soon she joined your father to give a twisted advice. He asked if you still loved him. You answered you weren’t sure.

Then I suggest you to proceed to ignore him. Soon you’ll learn his intentions if he ever comes back. Play with him a little. Show him that nobody will laugh in the face of family like ours. Let your hands get dirty, but never show this insecurity you’re talking about.

From that day, you still wake up every morning without knowing how you actually feel about Coriolanus Snow. You know you can’t just simply forget about all the things you did with him. But you firmly pretended that he was in the past.

“I still don’t know how I feel about him.”

“Are you still in contact with his family?” You remember Tigris and Grandma’am.

“Not as much as I used to”

“Mhm. Did they ever learned what happened?” You sigh.

“Just that he opted to choose the songbird before me. And I know Tigris has her own opinion. I just never gave her the opportunity to share it.”

“With him back… probably you’ll find out sooner than later” Clemensia admits, leaving you thinking for the rest of the dinner.

Turns out that you are not ready to find out yet.

…

The first time you see him, it’s at the gardens of the University. You had lunch and wanted to have a brief walk. Through a maze of flowers and plants, you spot him on a bench. He’s very concentrated reading a book. Your eyes widen, seeing how much different he looked. The posture, the clothes, the hair, the cold look.

Something notoriously changed. And you have your suspicions. It wasn’t a coincidence that Sejanus was gone, and Lucy Gray Baird had dissapeared.

You mourned the death of Sejanus one week. You send your condolences to his parents at the funeral. And that night you can’t help but cry on your pillow. Wondering why had life slowly turned dark. In a matter of months you had experienced things you never thought you would. You lost people, you had your first heart broken. You had lost the will to do much things. But, you had to keep going. And you felt guilty, because you thought you had no right to feel like your life was hard, just for being Capitol. The districts struggled more. However, it’s not on your power to mend their lives. Just as it’s not their case to judge your life.

And now, seeing Coriolanus so firm, so calm, it makes you doubt. Sensing that there must’ve been something off about him. Something bad, like all the things he did and hid from you.

You pretend you’re looking for some papers in your bag when you walk past him. He doesn’t see you though, and you thank it.

A couple of days later, you hear for the first time the rumours about him courting Livia Cardew. It makes you feel depressed. You cry out of anger as soon as you get home.

And to your dismay, the first thing you see after turning into a room for the politics class, it’s them. Coriolanus Snow is talking to Livia just beside the door.

That’s the first time you two look at each other again. He sees the anger, discontent and so much resentment. You see the questioning, curiosity and admiration in his eyes.

Nothing else is said because you break the gazes, you walk inside the room with your head high, and your presence is so evident that even Livia has to look at you. Taking too much time to see your beautiful heels.

A week later, you are having a good time with your friends. Festus and Lysistrata are there with you and Clemensia. You are talking all about the upcoming winter gala held at the biggest auditorium in the Capitol. Everyone is excited because it’s the great opportunity to make contacts and eat the most delicious food.

“Is your mother inviting Coriolanus?” Lysistrata asks with curiosity. You roll your eyes at the subject.

“I hope not. I haven’t even spoken with him ever since he came back” everyone knew you had broke up with him. But only Clemensia knew the details.

“Well, apparently he is courting Livia now” Festus mocks, making everyone laugh. Not that any of you had something personal against Livia. But she wasn’t the most brilliant star at the Academy. Now not certainly at University.

“Why Livia?” Clemmie asks laughing.

“Perhaps it’s becase how naïve she is”

“Or because of her father’s inheritance” you add.

“I don’t think so. He’s now the heir of the Plinth fortune” Festus remarks with dessaproval, which makes you feel angered.

“He’s dancing on Sejanus’ grave” your words create some minutes of silence for your late friend. Even when Festus and Lysistrata had made fun of him for being District and the ways of his parents to go up, at the end, they were friends. And now his absence had created a void.

“Ambitious and annoying. Just like his father…” Lysistrata comments sipping on her glass of water.

“How unfortunate. If he had stayed with you, we wouldn’t be talking bad things about him behind his back” you sigh at Clemensia’s words.

“Speaking of the king…” when you look past Lysistrata seated on her chair, you spot Coriolanus. He was wearing a dark grey suit, he looked so fine you had to admit. But soon you look away, the sudden memories of your last days with him haunt you.

After spotting his old friends and ex lover in a table at the cafeteria, he start walking towards there. Trying to make his first moves to go back to normality.

“Yeah. He would’ve been seated beside me right now. But he consciously choose the songbird before me. At least he’s refining himself a little bit with Livia” your friends turn to look at you in shock after the revelation, Clemmie only rises her brows as she sips her water silently, hiding her smile. By the time Coriolanus arrives the table, you’re gone and he curses himself for not walking faster. Festus and Lysistrata are shocked, making him furrow his brows in confusion.

“Did I missed something?” He asks.

“You had an affair with your tribute?” Lysistrata asks back in disgust. Coriolanus sees Clemensia giggling in silence with her head down. Probably enjoying his embarrassment.

His silence meets the requirement for an answer. One that they take as yes.

“And now y/n knows about you and Livia” Coriolanus frowns ever deeper after looking at Clemensia.

“There’s no Livia and I” He responds firmly. Even disgusted to her his name along the least smart girl of his finances class.

“Oh but everyone believes so. That you’re courting her…” he rolls his eyes, annoyed.

“I’m just talking to her because we’re partners for some stupid research paper” the silent sipping on their drinks at the same time is ridiculous to Coriolanus. He just stares at them annoyed.

“Do me a favor and leave her alone, Coriolanus. You were gone to go to your nobody girl from 12, but I stayed and saw her struggling in that hospital bed” Clemensia speaks confidently. Making the blonde to feel threatened.

So he realises that maybe you could have feelings for him still. And that this rumors could have weight on you. He curses himself. Even without realizing, he’s still hurting you.

“I won’t lose the girl twice, Clemmie. Have a good day” he says with a fake smile before leaving the table in shock.

He had to quicken the pace of his proximity with you. He had to make you see he never stopped caring for you.

…

There’s a shattering mess of broken glasses. You quickly move away from the crime scene, looking for your pills, immediately swallowing two.

Your mother’s assistant opens the door, asking for you with concern.

“Is everything okay, miss y/n?” You turn to look a the woman.

“I accidentally threw the jar. Sorry…” Millie is in her mid thirties. She was your mother’s confidant, and slowly yours too. She sees the news paper in the floor, half of it drenched from the broken jar that had water. She can see the title, The Snow heir tights the knot with the Cardew family?

“I’ll call the maids. Don’t worry” she says looking back at you.

“Thanks Millie.” She smiles, closing the door behind.

You breathe loudly, sighing in stress. Of course you had purposely thrown the water jar because of the news paper. A portrait picture of Livia is placed perfectly aligned with one of Coriolanus. Between some paragraph there’s your name too. But you don’t dare to see why.

You may pretend to be okay to the public eye, but you’re still drowning in the same feelings you got after Coriolanus Snow revealed his lies to you.

It’s almost like if he was still mocking you. Showing everyone how easy he had played with you. And how easy he got rid of you.

Someone had to pay. No, not someone, he. He, himself, Coriolanus Snow had to fail. Only that way you would feel slightly better. Only that way your tears would stop being for him.

The first chance you had, you would take it.

…

While you loved pursuing a dancing career along the production stuff. You still had some duties regarding politics and economy. Which is why you ended up at the submissions office so early in the morning. To send a petition.

You end up at at a messy office. A man is there, moving folders and other type of papers. There’s three baskets that can clearly be read as; approved, denied, pending.

However, you quickly look away to smile at the man who’s sitting behind the chair.

“Good morning.” Your smile is contagious to everyone. The man replies with a warm greeting.

“Good morning, miss y//l/n. How can I help you?”

“I was wondering if you could hand me a petition form to send” he nods, standing up, leaving the mess of papers behind.

“I can, just let me go and print the form. It won’t take too long…” you smile again, letting him go outside the office.

As you wait, you start seeing the racks of boxes and more boxes filled with yellow and lined papers.

Your curiosity grows, making you look at the baskets on the desk.

You see at first glance some graduation petitions, letters, etc. You are still curious to see why some papers where pending. So you look at the door one last time before diving into the papers. You don’t know the first students mentioned. Until you see the third yellow folder, where you can see a white strip with black letter saying Coriolanus Snow.

You open the folder, seeing what it was all about. A petition to start a political campaign at the age of 19. You frowned. He was good at writing. Even with letters he had some charm. But you know he never beated you to be precise and delicate. You always heard Grandma’am saying he would one day be president. But you never seriously discussed it with him. Now you know it was real. And you can’t help but feel an enormous amount of remorse.

He doesn’t deserve it. He had lost everything once, but the way he was earning everything was through breaking you, and probably others you’ll never knew about. Even when it would make Tigris and Grandma’am happy, you slip the folder into the basket of denied. You don’t feel nothing as you do it.

In fact, you offer the sweet man a smile when he comes back with the form for you. You thank him and then walk out.

…

Coriolanus swears he didn’t intend to bump into your father at the bank. Your father was a frivolous man, but since he knew him, he greeted Coriolanus with respect.

The blonde was taken aback when he invited him to have dinner at your house. And he couldn’t say no.

Your house is the same. At least from the outside, because inside, there’s more color. Coriolanus sees your mother. And she offers him a smile before he leans to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Coriolanus, look at you. You look very handsome!” His cheeks warm, as your father giggles, handing his coat to a maid.

“I ran into him at the bank. Where’s y/n, dear?” Your mother laughs, rolling her eyes.

“That girl. I haven’t seen her out of her room since midday” the sudden sound of your heels gets noticed.

“I’m here” you say, coming down the stairs, putting some earrings on. Coriolanus notices the grey dress and black heels along the red tights. A diadem on your head and a bright smile that soon dissapears as you spot him in your house.

“Look who I found earlier” you sigh, standing straight.

“I see…” Your parents can see the way you correct your posture, showing how uncomfortable you are.

“We’re having dinner…” you ignore Coriolanus and his deep gaze on you.

“I can’t stay for dinner. I have rehearsals and I promised Clemmie to go to her birthday dinner party” they exchange looks. And Coriolanus is at the verge of smiling at the way you are making up an excuse to leave. Running away from him.

“Are you meeting with Jan before?” Coriolanus head almost pops to look at your father. And you don’t know if you should smile. Jan was your dance partner, he would dance with you at the gala. He was older, very handsome. And you wished he wasn’t off limits from you. Because you easily could admit your attraction towards him.

“Can you at least stay for some drinks?” You shrug at your mother, accepting your purse from a maid. You ignore Coriolanus and his way of looking at you, almost petrified.

His head was spinning, he needed to know who the hell was Jan.

“Unless you want me to do horrible at the Winter Gala, no. I cannot stay, mother” she sighs, tilting her head towards your father. He understands, your father was the one who convinced you to ignore Coriolanus and play with him.

“Well, that’s fine. Just be polite and say goodbye to Coriolanus.” You nod, watching them leave inside the long corridor to enter the dinning table.

You remain quiet, looking down at your purse to avoid his eyes.

“You look lovely” he says, breaking the ice.

“Thank you.”

It’s the first time you two talk since months ago.

“I heard you want to start your political campaign” you opt to pretend you are okay and you can face him with confidence.

“I did. But the idiots of the council rejected my essay. Guess it’ll give me more time to focus on university.” You nod, grabbing a pair of gloves from inside the purse. You want to smile so badly. He would never know you were the reason of his failed first steps in the politic of Panem.

“Anyways… How you’ve been?”

“I’m fine, Coriolanus.” the way you sound tired. Like tired of him makes him uncomfortable. But he tries to keep his best smile too.

“Who is Jan?” He asks almost too seriously. You smile politely at him

“No one of your business, Snow” you calling him by his last name takes him very aback.

“You know, I just hoped that… you know. Maybe we could start off again… like friends of course” you giggle, lowering your head. He frowns confused.

“Miss y/n, Trevor is waiting in the car for you” the butler say appearing from the side door, you thank him and he leaves again.

“I don’t think there’s a way to start again. You already failed me once, Coriolanus.” You admit, putting on the gloves with a bittersweet smile on your face. You turn to pat his cheek, and he swears he’s about to melt. He lounged for your touch since the moment he left you at the hospital. He closes his eyes, hoping to slow down time and felt your cold touch.

But you move away your hand. He opens his eyes and sees you putting the last pair of the gloves on. You walk towards the door.

“You know where the dinning table room is.” And with that, you are gone.

…

Your father gave him the green light to court you again. Coriolanus had to swear that he would never cause you any type of pain, or else, your father would destroy his career before it officially started.

That was more than enough for him. Since that day, slowly, he had been greeting you almost every day, at Univeristy and when you ecountered him and Tigris in a furniture store. You personally invited her to the Winter gala, and Tigris agreed to not share the news about the invitation. But to the young Snow woman, it was a surprise that your father had already invited Coriolanus to the gala.

Soon the day came. As usual the gala opened with the performance of an specific play, than everyone celebrated in the hall with fine dining, and everyone gossiped as auctions happened. It had been a couple of weeks, very busy ones. Probably it was even more important than the arts gala on March. But for this special occasion you had rehearsed a lot to be an elegant black swan.

You smile at your own reflection at the mirror, the black tutu was gorgeous. The crown you had to use was very intriguing. And the black makeup made you feel very confident.

“I came as soon as I could” Clemensia suddenly opens the door of your dressing room. She looks agitated, but she looked amazing on a beige dress and her hair in half ponytail.

“You look very pretty” she thanks you.

“But look at you. You are going to be amazing.” She sits and both start gossiping.

“Your father invited Coriolanus.” It makes you roll your eyes tired. But you are having a heartache.

“I’m… not sure if I don’t feel anything about him” Clemmie leaves her glass of champagne.

“The newspaper rumour affected you. Right?” Slowly, you nod. Too embarrassed to look at her in the eye. But Coriolanus had been really good. He smiled at you at any chance he could. Some days he would join you and your friends and he was fun, you had to bite your tongue to avoid giggling. And Clemensia had seen it too.

“I can’t blame you. I was there since the beginning…” your friend had seen the courting, the first awkward hand holding, how you two formed a strong connection. And Coriolanus left you at the hospital.

“You two had a beautiful bond. And he broke it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t miss him” Clemmie goes to hug you.

“Pa’ said to keep playing with him, to ignore him. But I’m tired, I just want to heal” she nods, letting you hide your face on her shoulder.

“You want my advice?” You nod.

“Do not force anything. Be polite to him, but avoid giving him any chance yet. As you heal, you’ll find the answer; if you should let him have another chance or not”

A man knocks. When Clemensia opens the door, he receives a bouquet of white roses.

You could recognize those roses anywhere. You get closer, taking the attached note.

Grandma’am and Tigris didn’t know what flowers to cut.

Good luck.

You try to hide your smile. But it’s impossible.

…

The whole place is full. Coriolanus takes a seat with Tigris besides.

“I talked with her yesterday. She said she was very nervous about this one” Tigris says. Coriolanus knows she’s talking about you.

“She’s always perfect, she shouldn’t feel nervous.” His mind was only thinking about Jan. He did his research. And learned he was a former dancer of your mother’s institution. It made him mad.

“Have you thought about inviting her to have dinner?” Coriolanus shakes his head.

“Not yet, I haven’t talked enough to her”

“Well, hurry up. Grandma’am wanted to see you married by the age of 20” she says laughing. But it doesn’t make Coriolanus smile.

“Oh look, it’s starting” Tigris squealed with excitement. The curtains lifted and the show started.

For the first twenty minutes, he’s so bored. Nothing exciting happens. He thinks the white swan is boring. And for the first time, he meets Jan. It makes him feel jealous.

It only worsened when you appeared on stage. Your black attire makes him go mad. He had never seen you in anything like that. He gets very invested in your scenes. He feels the emotion you are trying to project. Sassy, cheeky and attractive. You succeed to him.

Unfortunely, Jan had to appear too. And Coriolanus has to sigh, dealing with the scene of the man holding you to make you gracefully spin. The music doesn’t help, it holds the sense of you and Jan dancing together. Coriolanus knows dancing has a lot to do with acting. But he doesn’t enjoy the looks of lust and desire between you and your partner. The worst part? He had to seat and watch it for at least fifteen minutes.

His head malfunctions. But he already is telling Tigris he needs to the restroom.

It’s a lie. He goes to the dressing rooms. And his luck was so big that he found the one with the name of Jan. He slowly made his way inside. The place was so old that he didn’t need to check for security or anything, but he wanted to make sure nobody would see him in real time.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to accomplish, but surely he wanted to get rid of the man who apparently had your attention now. Your mother had said you and Jan worked very well. And now, with him seeing the performance, he was more than sure he couldn’t let it move forward.

His hand went to his pocket, and his eyes widened. He felt the little glass tubes of narcotics. The same he used to kill Casca Highbottom.

He thought about it just for a little. Was it worth it? Getting rid of a man just to have easier access to you.

Maybe.

Then he questioned how bad he wanted you back. Coriolanus had missed you since day one. He knew he would never love anyone else. He knew no one would treat him as you once did.

So he poured the liquid from one of the tubes inside the water flask resting on the vanity. And before leaving, Coriolanus slipped two more tubes inside the bag that contained Jan’s clothes.

“You took very long at the restroom” Tigris tells her cousin when he came back.

“There was a long line”

…

This time, is different. You smile and you can hear the big round of applauses as you make reverence to go off from stage. You were the last one and the curtains came down finally.

Once you are free, you have all the time in the world to breathe. Other dancers and production staff members congratulate you. But it’s Coriolanus Snow the one who makes you frown confused. He was backstage, looking at you with a soft smile. His classic black suit makes you go back and remember about the Reaping ceremony. How happy that day initiated, and how bad it turned out.

“Coriolanus.” You greet him, he can see a tiny smile on your face.

“You were amazing. As usual, of course”

“Thank you. And for the flowers, they were gorgeous. As usual, of course” he’s so surprised that you were talking to him with some humor sense. Both of you laugh and it feels… warm, and natural.

“It’s nothing. But.. perhaps we could just sit together at dinner?” Your cheeks warmth. You think about your confusing feelings, what your father and Clemensia respectively said. Sitting with him once wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“Yeah, we could.” He smiles, and even when his hair changed, his deeper voice. For some seconds you can see the boy you once loved.

And he almost feels like he was seventeen again. Watching you dance backstage, ready to greet you with a kiss. He sees the girl who helped him so much. And he just know all the horrible things he’d done were worth it.

“I-…” but his words stay lingering in the air. Both of you hear a female scream. Coriolanus and you exchange looks before starting to walk where the sound was heard. In the corridor of the dressing rooms you see a woman lingering to an open door. Immediately you recognize it’s Jan’s room. You quickly make it there, through the pain of your caged foot inside the pointe shoe. Coriolanus goes behind you, already sensing the scene inside.

He hears you gasp in shock, covering your mouth and tears forming on your eyes.

You are in shock, you sob, unable to blink.

Jan is on the floor, pale and blood on his mouth. He’s dead.

And as much as the scene shocks you, you are trained to entertain the Capitol, so you turn to them random woman.

“Go and find Millie. Tell her about this and do keep your mouth shut. Nobody can know beside my parents. Understood?” You indicate the woman with a broken voice. She nods in horror dissapearing through the corridor. When she leaves you can finally cry.

When you don’t know what else to do, you are holding onto Coriolanus Snow. You find comfort on his chest. And he immediately holds you back.

As much as you hate to admit it, you feel you are home in his arms.

With one hand, he closes the door of the dressing room and returns to completely be there to hug you. He smiles, knowing he’s already slowly winning.

Because when your parents find out what happened, they make you put a cute black and green velvet gown with crystals. They make you pretend nothing happened and you sit with Coriolanus and Tigris. Ignoring the upcoming rumors, and certainly not respecting the sudden death of Jan.

…

Two days later, Coriolanus finds you seating on a bench. You are eating a sandwich, looking lost. He takes a seat beside you.

“I’m sorry about Jan. It happened so suddenly” he doesn’t feel sorry. Opposite of what he felt about Sejanus and Lucy Gray. However, he firmly believes it was the only way.

“He was a wonderful man. A devoted dancer, with principales. He had a wife in District 3.” Coriolanus coughs. He wasn’t expecting that. That little detail wasn’t on his research. Something twisted inside him, but he still didn’t regret or felt sorry.

“He didn’t seem the type to use narcotics…he must’ve been very stressed out” you add. Oblivious that you are talking with Jan’s murderer.

“Are you sure you are okay?” You roll your eyes sighing.

“No. I’m not okay, Coriolanus. Not since that cursed Reaping ceremony day”

“I’m just trying to be here for you” he admits, and it’s your breaking point.

“WHY DO YOU CARE NOW? YOU FAILED ME WHEN I MOST NEEDED YOU!” He looks around to see if anyone was around. But the place is empty.

“I know I committed many errors but-“

“BUT NOTHING, CORIOLANUS.” You spit out with such anger, that makes him frown.

“You violated the trust, loyalty, respect and love we had for each other. You dissapear after making me have a damn breakdown. Only to go after that girl. And now you appear trying to mend things?” You won’t tell him about his denied petition and what you did. You just want to share all you couldn’t before at his face.

“Do you know how many doctor appointments I’ve had since you left?” He looks down.

“Twelve. And I have to swallow four different pills every day. Only to stay sane. And who’s fault it is? The hunger games, the galas, dancing, Lucy Gray Baird. But specially, you” when he looks up at you again, you are crying.

“If you really want to be here for me, you need to stay away and leave me alone.” You finall state, looking at his blue eyes one last time, before standing from the bench and walking away.

That wasn’t your day. Neither the following ones. Your pointe shoes died and your size was out of stock. The food took such a long time. Your parents left to have an audience in District 1 and your evening was to listen to music and cry.

But certainly what broke you once again was a phone call.

“Hello?” You answer.

“Y/n?”

“Tigris?” You ask. Her voice sounding worried.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Is everything okay? You sound alarmed, dear” you are able to hear her sighing.

“It’s Grandma’am. She’s sick. Coriolanus is busy at the Univeristy and the doctor I requested hasn’t appeared” your heart beats faster.

“She has a strong fever and it’s been like that for hours.” She adds, finally sounding more worried.

“Tigris, calm down. I’ll call my cousin, he’s one of the most prepared doctors around. I’m going there with you in the meantime” you reassure her, already taking off your nightgown and taking out a dress and coat from your closet.

“Thank you, y/n. I truly appreciate this, thank you.” You hang up after saying everything was going to be okay.

…

You see how changed is the penthouse. Fully renovated, with bright lights that contrasted the dark blue wallpapers. But you find interesting how the olive paint you brought is still there. And your portrait from the day of your eighteen birthday is still with the family pictures.

You wait outside the room of the elder woman, as your cousin is checking Grandma’am. You have to hold the urge from biting your nails. A maid offers you posca, but you can’t think about drinking at the time.

The front doors opens and seconds later, Coriolanus is there. He seems surprised to see you there. Since the day of your argument, he hadn’t see you. He tried calling you but your butler said you were out for the weekend to your grandparents house.

“Y/n?” He asks, dropping his coat on a chair.

“Tigris called me. She wanted a doctor for your grandmother” he worried a bit.

“Is she not feeling better. When I left she seemed better…” he says hurrying to go to her room, but you stop him, grabbing by his forearm.

“Don’t. My cousin is already there with her. I’m waiting for the results” Coriolanus only stares at you. He wants to smile. You came only to help his family once again.

“You look very lovely” you smirk, looking at his window with your arms crossed.

“Really? Your grandmother is sick and you are here saying how lovely I look today?” He smiles.

“You told me to wait. What else can I do?”

“How cynical of you” you respond coldly. After all you told him, he was acting like it never happened.

The door of the room opened and Tigris came out with your cousin.

He revealed Grandma’am was having a little difficulties in her lungs, which made her prone to catch a flu. He gave her some strong medicines and promised it would be fine with some days of resting.

After some minutes, you are also ready to leave.

You say good night to the Snow cousins and leave.

“Y/n. Wait…” Tigris comes out. Stopping you some feet away of the now working elevator.

“I-… Thank you.” She slowly says hugging you.

“It’s nothing, Tigris. I told Coriolanus once I would always help the people I love” Tigris suddenly feels so sad to hear you say that. She really hoped you and her little cousin had a different ending.

“He still loves you so much.” You fight harder against the tears when she says that.

“I know. And I still love him too. But… he never apologized. And I’m not ready to let go my resentment towards him.” You admit looking away.

“Although things did’t work out for you and Coriolanus, I really appreciate and care for you, y/n” se almost whispers in your ear. And your eyes water.

“I feel the same, Tigris. I really do” you reply slowly, controlling your voice to not sound cracked.

“I’ll come back in some days” she nods.

She lets you go and you finally head out. Not noticing that Coriolanus heard everything.

He never apologized.

That night, you are reading on the living room when your butler walks in.

“Coriolanus Snow is asking for you in the telephone” you thank him, walking bare feet towards the kitchen telephone.

“Yes, Mr. Snow?” You ask.

“I just wanted to thank you for coming today. You didn’t have to and yet you appeared here” you sigh.

“Whatever that happened between us has nothing to do with my relationship with Tigris and your mother” now he sighs, from his office, in complete darkness.

“About that y/n…” your hands go numb, and panic floods you.

“You don’t know how much I’m-“

“I know.” You interrupt him, cracked voice and you hang up.

“Sorry” he says through the dead line.

That night, you read his letters. The ones he sent when he was a peacekeeper at the 12. Where he seemed to have projected his more vulnerable and emotional side of his heart. Maybe he had been drunk, maybe Lucy Gray wrote them for him. You’d never know, and you preferred to ignore the idea of him actually feeling sorry.

…

A week later you’re applauding for Grandma’am as she sings for you. You smile, changing her pillow case and complementing how much of a sweet voice she had.

It’s getting late, and you must return to your house.

After wishing Grandma’am sweet dreams, you carefully close her door and you walk with the old pillow case away.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Tigris asks with a sweet smile, taking the pillow case from you. Coriolanus is seated, drinking something as he carefully looks at you. You ignore him.

“I must decline, dear. I have to go back and pack some things” she frowns, stopping to put some plates on the dinning table.

“Pack?”

“Yes. I think I’ll spend the holidays at District 1. My mother is opening a new studio and she’s going to need help. And well, if everything goes right, I might even stay there” Tigris almost drops the pillow case. And Coriolanus almost chokes on his drink.

“What? Why?. What about university? The galas? Your production job for the hunger games” you shrug with an honest smile.

“Lately the Capitol life has... it has been a burden. I want to live a peaceful life. I want to heal” Tigris sends daggers with her eyes to Coriolanus. He coughs, uncomfortable.

“CORIOLANUS!” Grandma’am calls the man, you only sigh. And slowly, he stands up to to the woman. He hears you keep talking with Tigris. And he wants to do something to stop you from leaving. Now he can give you the life he couldn’t before.

“Is everything alright, Grandma’am?” The elder woman looks at him from her bed.

“Are you really letting that young woman to walk away again?” Coriolanus frowns.

“What?”

“You’ve heard me.” Even in her sick days, she was firm.

“She doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore” Grandma’am shrugs.

“I don’t think so. Her eyes shine sadly at every mention of you. She was part of the family after all.” Coriolanus remains quiet. But he admits to himself that’s what he missed the most.

“I think she always waited for an apology. One that never came.” His heart pounds very fast. He tried, and you hung up.

“What do you suggest me to do?” Grandma’am smiles, coughing tiredly.

“You run to wherever she goes and beg on your knees. One time you show her vulnerability and you’ll never do it again. We, women, only want real love, stupid love. You show her that stupid love once and you can silently do it for the rest of your again”

“You already won the money and respect. You’re just missing out the girl” Coriolanus sweats, but when he turns to look at her grandmother again, she nods, reassuring him.

“Go. Get her back, Coriolanus” without saying anything back, he leaves.

When he enters the dinning room, he only sees two plates of food. He looks at Tigris confused.

“Where’s y/n?” She shrugs, taking a seat.

“She just left.”

Coriolanus runs. He actually runs out of his penthouse and when the elevator starts taking to much time, he decided to choose the stairs as his getaway. He feels sweaty and agitated, but as he goes down, he can’t help but feel slightly happy, the adrenaline of making it on time make him hurry.

“Y/N!” He yells your name once he makes it to the lobby, where he can see you turning back to see him.

You are waiting for Trevor when he appears running towards you.

And before you can even blink or breathe, he gets on his knees.

“Coriolanus Snow. What are you doing?” You ask confused and blushed.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

“I’m sorry about all the stupid things I did. I’m sorry about letting you down. I’m sorry for ruining our relationship. For letting you in that hospital bed and return to do everyhting but apologize to you” you look at him perplexed, not believing his words.

“I can’t lose you again. Because I know you’re the last and only person I’ll love. I won’t trust anyone else. And nobody would have ever looked down at me like you did when I had nothing” you sigh, feeling the tears coming again. You know he’s not lying. You knew him so well that you sense it.

“If you let me. To give me another chance, I’ll do things right. I will never fail you again in life. You’ll be the only person I’ll cherish and show love.” He offers you his hand, and he looks very suppliant.

You blink quickly to soothe the tears. And you know he doesnt deserve you. But aren’t the best person, so maybe you two were actually meant to be together.and that’s the only viable reason to why you want to let your heart freely beat for him again.

“Please don’t go, y/n” he whispers, waiting for your answer. You sigh, slowly and shaking, but you end up taking his hand.

“You’ll better be the most perfect lover of the history of Panem, then” he wraps your fingers together, and stands up.

“I promise, I swear” he knows the memory of Lucy Gray would always follow him. As well of all the deaths he had caused. But nothing compared to the joy of him kissing you again.

Your lips welcome him in the most sweet way. And he finds himself smiling through the kiss, gently holding you closer to him.

It’s in the start of the Road of Hope in the Capitol where Coriolanus Snow had his fully owned penthouse. Where he had nothing, and now had won everything.

…

Time flies, things had changed, probably for the better. You made Coriolanus keep fighting for a good and healthy relationship. Slowly, he made you completely fall in love again. And although there was certain spark missing, you knew it would never come back. However, you had also accepted that both of you had grown up.

The late talks were mature now. Talking about the future of Panem, planning dinners together. The kisses were more passionate, unlike the softness that was all over your early relationship. The sex was harder rather than slow and sweet like the beginning. Coriolanus would like to leave many hickeys scattered across your body, make a wet mess of saliva and fluids. He loved feelings your almond nails leave gentle scratches across his pale back.

But certainly, the biggest change was the way you two were handling a life together.

After turning twenty, you got married. Soon Coriolanus bought the house he always wished to give you. The one with black and white tiles floor, beige walls and big stairs.

By the first week in, he had done many refurbishments and he had fucked you in every room, every corner and every surface of the house.

Till the day you turned twenty-two. By that time, you had almost ditched your dancing career. Sometimes you still had some chances to perform on galas. But Coriolanus convinced you to focus on public services and the production of the hunger games. Dr. Gaul had officially retired, and it was going to be the first year of Coriolanus as a game maker. Things had really changed.

But everything seemed fine.

“Dear, Are you ready?” You turn to look at your husband, who waits on the frame of the door.

“Just one moment” you run to slip into your silver heels before grabbing your purse.

Trevor kept his job as your chauffeur and Millie was now your private secretary. Sometimes you hated how formal your life had become. Especially now that Coriolanus had some plans in mind.

As soon as you arrive to the fancy patio from a million-dollar man house, many women eye you and Coriolanus.

“Remind me what are we doing here?” You ask him. He holds your hand tightly, smiling at many of the invited people.

“I’m assuming the role of game maker. You are giving a speech about the improvements for the 14th Hunger Games, my dear” you nod, clutching onto his cold hand harder. Both of you were kind of the sensation around the Capitol. You know how they whisper about your dress and your husband’s physic.

“You’re going to be fine. You always choose the right words. And your voice can charm anyone here” he whispers on your ear, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.

“Thank goddess I’ve been studying the constitution. Or else these men would bury me” Coriolanus laughs. Soon you enter the actual event. With long white tables, candles and everyone dressed either on red or black.

“Men around here don’t know how smart my wife is” he says shrugging, remembering how many honors you received from university. Some of the wives ask you to join them. You wave hello to them before leaning to your man.

“Do not make me jealous or leave me alone during the speech.” You firmly say to him.

“Of course not, my love”

“Love you.” And with one last kiss, you walk away.

For the rest of the night. You feel uneasy. Because you succeeded with the speech. But once you read the part from Coriolanus, you are at the verge of babbling.

He shared some of his initial proposals for the games. Like lowering the age of the tributes, increasing the obstacles in the arena, using more mutts, allowing weapons, and making the interviews with Lucky Flickerman longer.

It had been a long time since you think about the games so much. But that guilt you felt after seeing Coriolanus as mentor, never left. And after that dinner, everyone claps for your husband and you, after being considered as the couple of the next generation for Panem.

In the privacy of your new home, you constantly zone out to think about it. You can’t ask Coriolanus to stop the games, but he could make some changes.

You knock swiftly on his door.

“Come in.” You walk in and he drops the papers he was signing to smile at the sight of you.

“Hello, you.” he says cheekily.

“Hello, you’.” You reply. He indicates you to seat on his lap and you do so. His arms lock around you, hands resting on your back.

“Are you coming to bed anytime soon?” You ask.

“I just need to sign some things, darling” he watches you frown, and he won’t say you look older, because you don’t. But you certainly look wiser, mature and more like a woman rather than a girl.

“I’ve been thinking about the games” He’s all ears now. He knows you had some specific opinions. You had said in your first interview how brutal the games were.

“What about them?”

“I would never ask you to stop the games. But…” you stop, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

“But what, my dear?”

“Don’t you think those tributes are humans? Yes, the Districts deserve to be reminded of the consequences of their acts. But most of the tributes are kids. Who don’t even understand everything that conveys a war.” Coriolanus sighs, trying to choose the correct words to answer you.

“What are you suggesting?” He tries to sound calm, but the mere subject makes him a little irritated.

“I don’t know… Maybe giving them more opportunities?” He giggles, caressing the skin on your hips.

“Giving them opportunities means going soft on them. And going soft on them could trigger a new rebellion” this time you sigh, trying to persuade him by brushing his hair, softly grasping his chin.

“Not like that, Coryo. I mean… raising the majority age of the tributes. Giving them at least the chance to train. To eat a proper meal on the last night. To show who they are one last time before they’re sent to die” Coriolanus would always believe that you’re only one weakness was your humanity. How you always turned to see down on others, feeling guilty from being born with all the commodities.

So, he tries to ignore it. He tries to see your suggestions as a way to punish the tributes harder. Give them everything to then killing them.

So, he smiles, urging you to kiss him. You reply immediately, holding him closer to feel the heated proximity.

“I could arrange some changes. Would that make you feel better?” You nod on his lips, smiling.

“Now let me finish this before meeting you in bed. And I expect you have this thing off before I get there” he says grabbing your nightgown. You laugh with a potent blush, gently pushing him away.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not being silly. In two days, we start the tour, we will be very tired to make love daily as we do now” you roll your eyes, almost running away ad your husband laughs, making fun of your embarrassment.

“This is madness. I’m going to bed” you say getting out of his office.

“Don’t forget about what I said!” He yells, making you smile in love as you leave upstairs, wishing good night to the maids and butler. For the record, you do not forget about your husband’s petition.

…

The best part of the house is the rooftop in your opinion. A terrace with cristal walls and ceilings that had a gorgeous view of the Capitol. A view that included some monuments and the snowy mountains surrounding the city.

You had a little bar there, an eccentric dining table and some couches with colorful cushions.

Grandma’am made you take some of his roses so you could start your own garden. That brought tears to your eyes. But now, it was only you and Tigris there.

You asked the chef to make some vegetables and creams as your sister-in-law arrived for dinner. Coriolanus and you were set to leave the next morning for his political campaign tour.

“Have you packed everything?” Tigris asks.

“Yes. I wish I could take Trevor with me. But only Millie will be able to come” you say smiling. Tigris notices how you constantly look at the door, hoping to see Coriolanus entering.

“Have you told him?” You shake your head at the woman.

“Not yet. Probably by the time we arrive District 4. We have good memories from there” Tigris smiles. She was really excited when you got back together with Coriolanus. She even made your wedding dress. And now she was so proud of the career you two were making.

“Sorry for the delay. I was arguing with some incompetent who cancelled the delivery of our new chandeliers” Tigris rolls her eyes as your husband cheekily smiles.

“Dinner isn’t ready yet, anyways” you say patting his back as he takes a seat beside you.

“You shouldn’t be stressing over the tour. Your dear wife must’ve prepared the most wonderful speeches for you to say” Coriolanus smiles, turning to give you a peck on the nose, making you laugh.

“It’s not that, Tigris. It’s the time that’s freaking me out. I don’t want to be gone for almost two months.” You sigh, trying to keep everything together. You just pray that the tour goes smoothly.

“Each district will host you with all commodities” it’s a lie. Coriolanus isn’t ready to go to District 12 again. Where his father died, where he committed the worst decisions of his early life. He knows those days will be a little sour. But he’s willing to play pretend very well for you.

“It’s going to be fine. Pardon me, dear” Coriolanus says after seeing your face of over thinking. His wife is so smart that she’s probably wondering the same as him. And that’s the least he needs of.

You take his hand, before hearing the food has arrived. The air changes, the dinner flows happily as you talk and gossip with Tigris and your husband. It’s a great dinner actually.

Maybe he broke your heart when you were teenagers. But you delayed his political campaign for four years. Maybe he had looked too much at Lucy Gray Baird, but at the end it would only be you.

You could’ve done better to get rid of that guilt for participating in the hunger games, but you just realize that maybe you didn’t because you are not a good person either.

Even so, every morning, you wake up in his arms as he fulfilled his promise of never failing you again.

You just hope that the tour, the upcoming games and everything else doesn’t get into your way. Nothing can be a recoil. Not when Coriolanus Snow’s first child rests peacefully in your womb.

The future was uncertain. But your past and present along him always seemed like… a hatred road.

_____________________________________________

fyi, in my head, if reader hadn’t delayed Coriolanus political emergence, the second rebellion would’ve started earlier and probably it wouldn’t have been successful. (Basically it would’ve been like a second time “dark days” situation and then back to reconstruction again)

Taglist: @dear-bunnyboo @daydreamerprocrastinator @lecrercsgirlshhs @athanasia-day @devils-blackrose @reader-bookling123 @cookielovesbook-akie @justacaliforniandreamer @m1ndbrand @blairfox04 @darktrashsoulbear @fartybobabutt @diannana @iwantosleep @sarysuniverse @unclecrunkle @f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @didneyworld13 @imguce @angelscrime @impeterporker @lem122 @cryaka @ietss @michelleisheres-blog @capsiclesworldsblog @circe143

[zwhoreo]

Luffy accidentally eating/taking aphrodisiac and reader has to deal with the results.

HAPPY 2024!!! :D here’s my longest fic ever as a celebration

can’t come down - aphrodisiac luffy x f!reader

smut with some angst

summary: thinking it was regular chocolate, you accidentally give luffy several doses of a potent aphrodisiac. now he needs you to take care of him

contains: accidental intoxication, luffy in discomfort/distress, tears, some uncomfortable sex, overstimulation, luffy and zoro in a brief sexual situation

words: 4.8k

_______________________________

It’s all your fault. You’ve hurt him, the little angel. A pleasant but burning pain, he’s attached to you, drooling on your neck and he’s been going for hours and he’s rubbing inside you ceaselessly, you’re dripping with him. He’s whimpering, this sweet boy. His eyes are blown out and hazy and he won’t stop just gazing at you, open-mouthed whimpers while he rubs inside you so deep and rough that god, you can feel it blooming and aching in your stomach, squeezed as you breathe so with every breath he moans in frustration and desire. Luffy just wanted chocolate, it’s all your fault.

______________________________

This town is seedy and dark. You like it because you can’t find these sorts of shops in regular port towns, places selling hallucinogens and fake medicine and alcohol for 100 berries a bottle. The sex shops don’t even board up their windows, that’s why you and Nami thought why not, let’s explore.

It’s not a serious shopping trip, more of a chance to laugh, tease each other, indulge in curiosity. This store’s set into the ground, beneath a metal stairway, it’s starting to rain so you two run for cover in the most interesting place.

The sex shop, which is very dim, all lantern light, is filled with things neither of you had ever seen before or thought to consider. The salesman is pushy, coming from behind the counter to try to sell you things you certainly hadn’t come there for. You laugh and walk around and whisper to each other. And even though you’re in a loving relationship these aren’t things you’ve thought to consider. Luffy wouldn’t like any of this. You would never do something to hurt or confuse him, not when you’re both vulnerable like that. But these low prices intrigue Nami who tells you that hey, why not get some cute lingerie?

“They’ve got a whole wall of it!” She points to the colorful selection of lace and silk and you do admit, it’s beautiful. It’s not something Luffy would care about really but you’d feel pretty in it, maybe. They’ve even got these cute little translucent night dresses that look so comfortable.

So you approach the salesman with your arms full of lingerie and he looks eager to be selling to two beautiful women. He keeps talking about deals and discounts, and with a little wink he throws in a special offer, with those two night dresses you’re buying you get free aphrodisiacs. Chocolate aphrodisiacs in a little white box and he keeps telling you these things are powerful. It’s a special deal, just for you. And with laughter and encouragement from Nami you say why not. You take them, even though you don’t think you’ll ever use them.

___________________________

Weeks go by. That little box, it rests forgotten in some dresser drawer. You tend to forget things at sea.

And there’s this island, more of an ocean mountain really, with jagged cliffs for beaches but there’s a small jungle on top, there might be food or resources up there. So Sanji and Zoro are going to go, and Luffy absolutely insists on coming with them. He’s all excited about it, hyper, rolling on his feet because he’s been kept away too long on the ship and he wants to explore.

But he’s not feeling quite himself. You’ve been short on food and Luffy’s had it bad, never satisfied after meals for the last couple days. That’s why this ocean mountain is the center of your universe with only the promise of a grove of mango trees, a flock of quail. So he’s begging you, pawing at your knees as you sit in bed and begging to get something to eat before he goes exploring. You try to help, maybe there’s something in a drawer, you get to your knees and dig through your dresser while Luffy crouches behind you, leaning on your back, you feel his warmth through your shirt. He’s impatient so he bites the back of your neck, tender but sharp.

You find the little box. You have no memory, in that moment, of where you got it. There’s no label, and you later think to yourself why the hell was there no label? but of course it doesn’t cross your mind right here. It’s a little box of chocolates and before you even have a chance to remember, Luffy snatches them out of your hand and says thank you and kisses you quickly on the cheek, cupping your face, his lips wet from hunger. And he sprints away, leaving you blushing, sitting there on your floor with a little smile.

_________________________

He’s beginning to feel very warm but it’s just the sun, probably. He takes off his cardigan, carrying it on his arm. His skin glistens golden in the light, a perfectly burnt brown, but now he’s going red with flush creeping from his face to his shoulders. Luffy’s breathing is irregular now, shuddering. He looks around, the trees wavering just a bit in a cloudy haze through his eyes.

“Sanji?” And he reaches for Sanji’s hand because for some reason he craves contact right now. But Sanji pulls away, feeling the layer of sweat coating Luffy’s palm. “I feel weird.”

Sanji’s eyes wander him. He can sense there’s something not right in Luffy’s stare, something dulled and far away. Something’s wrong, what’s wrong?

“Luffy?” Sanji doesn’t know what to do in these kinds of situations. “You should go see Chopper,” he says finally with his hand on Luffy’s shoulder, gingerly.

“Don’t wanna go back yet.” Luffy’s complaining despite the discomfort. And when he sees that Sanji won’t tell him anything he wants to hear, he turns and disappears into the underbrush, maybe water will help, something cold.

So he comes to this little pond, crystal clear and dappled by sunlight, there’s frogs on the lilly pads. If he wades to his thighs he won’t pass out, probably. There isn’t much care for himself in this moment, just a need to get rid of this burning. So he strips off his jeans which helps, strangely. A breeze hits his now bare body. He feels raw in a way he never has before.

That’s a yearning need to touch himself, but no, Luffy doesn’t think about that. He’s hot so he needs to get in the water. He stumbles on the rocks because his vision isn’t quite right. He shouldn’t go to his waist but that’s where the burning is. Ankles then knees then thighs, ripples lap between his legs, he’s left panting and tingling, that water is hitting nerve endings and with every wave comes friction that makes his body twitch. He wants more.

His hand flies to his cock as if by impulse, all of a sudden. There’s no thoughts now, just need, his hand rubs himself messily even though Luffy has no control, no concept of what he’s doing or why.

God, please.

He bends over a little, head down. Beads of sweat from his brow speckling the water as his whole body shakes back and forth and his muscles spasm. Frustration fogs his mind, with every pump it only stretches his skin, not enough friction, his hand is clamped down so tight that it’s doing nothing for him. He feels like crying. He hates that he wants to go home.

But this isn’t home. And as Luffy moans unabashedly this sounds like cries from pain, which they are, a bit. So it’s Zoro who hears him and without a second thought he’s tearing through the underbrush, tripping over his own feet, led blindly by his worst sound in the world — Luffy crying.

He shouts his name and crashes through the trees, he’s in the clearing and looking around desperately but what he sees makes him yell again. There’s Luffy, the love of Zoro’s life, completely naked and wading in the water of that crystal clear pond and moving sporadically as he rubs his cock, so painfully rock hard, over and over in this animalistic desperation as he cries and whimpers. He doesn’t know where he is or who’s around him and he doesn’t see Zoro.

Until he’s shoved from the side, a powerful push that sends him tumbling into the water, cruel cold water that sucks him in and starts a familiar panic within his heart that makes him forget for a moment about that burning inside him.

“WHAT THE FUCK, LUFFY?!” Zoro pulls him by his hair, shaking him, throwing him on the rocks and looking at Luffy with these stricken eyes, unable to comprehend what he’s seeing. His composure in that moment is shattered, his fists are clenched.

They’ve seen each other naked so many times. They’ve bathed and held and carried each other with nothing between their skin, it’s just how it happens sometimes when you’re that close. But this intimacy, this state Luffy’s in, it’s like nothing Zoro was prepared to see or could even really imagine out of Luffy. Something is horribly wrong.

“Zoro…” and Luffy’s taken up in his arms because no disgust or awkwardness comes before helping a friend who’s hurting. “I feel… I dunno… what’s- …”

Luffy’s voice is so slurred, his body is tense and so solid but yet somehow he’s still melting. Zoro’s finding it hard to look at him, do anything other than just sit there and hold him, uncomfortable at how he can feel that heat from between Luffy’s legs radiating and blooming condensation on Zoro’s skin. He has absolutely no idea how to even begin to approach this situation. So he’s rough and sloppy as he dresses his friend, his cardigan’s on and his sandals are on and his hat has been slammed over his eyes. But Zoro, teeth gritted, has to shove Luffy’s cock in his jeans himself because this boy is useless like this. He’s silently vowing to never talk or think about this moment again, how sticky his hands now feel, how Luffy moans as he’s touched and leans into Zoro and how his cock twitches with an overpowering need to fuck anything that’s close.

Zoro won’t think about this again. He just picks Luffy up and carries him away without saying a word.

______________________________

You’re just looking out the window. Unmoving sun, unmoving sea. You want to eat or go somewhere and maybe you should’ve begged and made them take you on the island.

Is it the island, or do you just miss Luffy?

But it’s not long before your door is kicked open, you jump, eyes wide, whipping around to find Zoro cradling your boyfriend, who looks sick. Fear shoots through you and closes your throat especially when you see Zoro’s eyes, vacant and upset and he looks dissociated, blank.

“Oh god, Luffy.” You run to him and your hands go to his face and just stroke his cheeks, he’s sweaty and burning up like he’s caught in a deep fever. “What happened?” Your eyes are wild and scared as you turn to Zoro.

“I don’t know what you gave him. Just… deal with it.” Zoro dumps Luffy into your arms and you stumble as he curls up into you, drooling all over your neck. And Zoro gives his shoulder one last squeeze and turns away, closing the door behind him, running off down the hall, somewhere where he can’t hear that crying anymore.

And yes, Luffy’s crying. You set him down on your bed, rubbing the back of his head and holding his hand. “Hey, hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Dunno what’s happening…” Luffy’s eyes are pleading and endlessly deep right now. His legs are kicking against the air and he keeps shifting around, he can’t sit still.

With his free hand he’s rubbing between his legs like he’s scratching an itch, but he doesn’t stop, your gaze follows him and oh, oh fuck. He’s got this tight, obvious hardness in his jeans. Straining so hard the zipper is shaking with tension. You’ve never seen anything like this.

Your mind is racing, this isn’t just horniness, Luffy has never been sexsick like this before.

You trace it all back and nothing was wrong when he left. Just bright eyed innocence, affection, nothing strange. And suddenly it hits you, that box, those chocolates.

Oh god. Oh my god.

You fed him an aphrodisiac. An aphrodisiac from a sketchy shop in an old-town basement, a powerful drug, just one would keep you up a whole night.

And you let Luffy eat them all.

“Lu… god, I’m sorry,” is all you can say as he crawls into your lap and breathes on your face. You take off his hat and ruffle his hair. How can you even explain this to him? He’s not going to understand. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault, I gave you an aphrodisiac by mistake.” You’re choked up. You hurt him.

“…” Luffy’s mouth is hanging open, drool coating his chin, dazed, so confused. “Hm?” His voice is even gravelier than normal.

“Those weren’t normal chocolates. They make your body… ready for sex? It’s supposed to be a fun thing. B- but I forgot they weren’t just normal chocolates! God, I’m so sorry.” You’re breaking down, you’re cuddling with him now, head on his shoulder.

“Oh.” You can’t really tell how much he understands. And his voice is quiet when he asks, “when’s it gonna go ‘way?”

“…I don’t know. I’m gonna try to help, ok? Let’s fuck for a few hours and get it out. It’s gonna be ok, Lu.”

His pupils expand when you say this, his eyes going from brown to deep black. He wants that so, so bad. He’s just sort of figuring that out now. “Heh, yeah.” He squirms in your lap, cock so hard you can feel his zipper sliding down on its own, as his breath gets heavier, this desperate ball of energy spasming in your arms.

Then he smiles. And he attacks.

He flips you onto your back and groans, hips thrusting into yours as his lips find your mouth, saliva leaking past your lips, you swallow as they part. You’re wearing these soft cotton shorts and you feel his aching cock smacking the fabric as it pushes and strains to break free from his pants with every motion. He moans so loud you know everyone can hear. Now he’s drooling again, spitting on your face because he’s lost control of his jaw, you’re winded but you grab his face and kiss him, he didn’t even know he needed this.

He falls on you now. He’s all splayed out and whining and just kissing you as if he’s been challenged, teeth and tongue working through every part of your mouth. He’s loud when he kisses, and now every breath is a groan of want.

“Undress me…” you whisper to him, grabbing the back of his neck, he seems like he’ll explode if he keeps on like this without being deep inside you.

With a strangled “Mh,” Luffy’s fingernails scrape your skin in a desperate attempt to pull off your dress. He’s ripping cloth, damn, you can hear him ripping cloth. Nothing you can do now.

But you can tell as your skin shines bare and he tears his own clothes from his body, as his sweat drenches you and that heat like a tropical hurricane all over but especially where it pools between his legs and oh you’d be scared if you looked there now, you can tell he’s about to just go in you with no thought or reason and harder than he’s ever gone before. So — and you hate to do this — you grab his shoulders. You stare him in the eyes.

“Luffy. Listen to me.”

your eyes reach his soul, he tries to look at you with anything close to coherence, he wants to follow your lead, he doesn’t understand anything right now. But there’s a hailstorm inside his mind. But he tries to listen.

“Don’t be too rough, please, can you promise?” Your voice is shaky because you’re not sure what he’s about to do. Luffy would never intentionally hurt you but he’s powerful, his body is strange, he works in ways neither of you understand. He has the power to really, really damage you and the carelessness to not see it happening. So you beg him with your eyes.

“I promise,” he gasps softly, one hand curling behind your neck, and he presses his face against your cheek, trying to harden his eyes in the gentle seriousness of the moment. Luffy is incapable of feeling sadism towards you of any kind and he’s at war with his body and the energy bursting within him right now. But he promises.

You smile and your feet rest on his hips and thighs, you feel him sizzling beneath your touch. The surface of his skin wavers before your eyes from the heat, you understand now the idea of mirages, he looks covered in amber rain even as his skin burns beneath your hands.

“Slow,” you ask softly in his ear, making Luffy whine in hunger.

There it is. What you don’t dare look at you can feel. Swollen and throbbing it feels like a whole other animal is just clawing there beneath that rice paper skin. You can feel his heartbeat in the tip of his cock as he touches you and it speeds up thousands of times in an instant. His thighs clamp around yours and his nails are sharp and Luffy groans in your ear. He’s made of nerve endings that send him twitching writhing with every tiny movement. He needs you now.

He pushes himself in and every bit of friction sends him convulsing against you, squeezing you tighter. You can feel the struggle in his muscles to hold back but that deep, tangible yearning for relief. He’s in and you’re both gasping for air. You’re not used to the size or the heat or that artificially induced power that’s overcome his body. But you’re proud of him and you tug his hair to tell him a quiet thank you, you’re ok, he’s keeping you safe.

All your touches are too much. His hips move messily against you like he doesn’t have the capacity to understand what to do right now. But he’s just going to follow that deep primal craving so he rocks into you with all his weight, crushing you again and again, eyes closed, mouth trying to find yours.

It’s the movement but also the way you’re being held. It’s a scary heaven. He’s going deep and he’s not pulling out just throwing himself against you over and over as if there’s any more he has to go. He’s whimpering and his body is shaking in need.

But he goes faster and now this is what you’re scared of, weighted rubber moves and stretches with momentum, he’s squeezing you tighter and tighter and with each slam against your body his cock buries into you so impossibly deep as his skin stretches and snaps within you. You whine and try to steady him but Luffy’s in this cloud right now. His teeth are digging deep into your neck and he’s drooling all over you, saliva dripping down your shoulder and chest.

When he cums it’s so hot it feels like lava. There’s so much of it. That relief at the slowness, liquid soothing beaten flesh, that’s heaven as you lay beneath him, wrapped in his arms. Is it over? No, no it isn’t.

But first, while he’s stunned and unable to move, you squish his face in your hands. “Luffy,” you breathe heavily into his mouth, “be more gentle. Please. You’re gonna hurt me.”

His eyes are wide and concerned. “I hurt you?” he whimpers from his swollen, shiny lips.

“I’m ok, don’t worry, just please be more gentle.” And you smile at him. That sets something off in his heart and you feel him harden again inside you.

He grins, lifting you back so you’re pressed against his chest, on his lap. And he shoves you down against him as you squirm in his arms, he rolls your hips on his as his strong hands take total control of your body, hungry eyes gazing at you with deep, immeasurable lust. From this new position he has so much control, he’s using your body for his release in as loving a way as possible, biting at your skin. You’re left to twitch in his grasp and hug him, letting yourself bask in this incredible tsunami.

The bouncing and stretching of his cock isn’t as bad in this position although you’re still impossibly full, limp in the overwhelming motion. But that heat is becoming uncomfortable, your cheek from its rest on his shoulder is covered in layers of sweat and you feel it pooling around every point of contact. He smells like burning rubber and thick, palpable sweat. His skin begins to sear your hands and you only realize what’s happening when he starts to steam. Billowing steam clouding your room and soaking you in hot, wet air like you’re in an erupting volcano. You’re not sure which gear he’s changing to and you don’t want to find out.

“LUFFY!” You yell through your haze and hit his back and it’s so hard to talk to him like this, his moans are drowning out your cries, he’s moving faster and faster and his hair and mouth and the area between your legs is already lost in clouds of white steam. “STOP!”

He yelps and rolls off of you. Your words cut his heart. You’re both drenched and your bed is soaking, your hair in your eyes dripping down your face mixed with tears you didn’t even know were there. Luffy looks confused, disoriented, he’s still steaming but it’s slowing now, his skin is dulling to its usual hue, his hair falls back over his face. He doesn’t know what to say.

“You were changing gears,” you murmur under your breath. “Luffy, that could’ve been bad.”

“I’m- I’m sorry…” he whimpers and looks down at himself. There’s still a cloud of blinding steam circling up the shaft of his cock, blooming from his tip and shimmering in droplets rolling down the red, tight skin. He looks at you with puppy eyes, needing your arms again.

You let him crawl to you. You let him place his head under your hand to be pet and comforted. He feels terrible but he feels sick, too, a sickness only cured by the deepest and most indescribable pleasure. He’s melting in your arms, as needy as when he was given to you, eyes blurry. You let him rest his head in your lap and drink in your scent, blankets tucked between his legs for the slightest friction.

“It’ll feel better if you don’t go so fast,” you say softly, stroking his wet hair. And he nods.

“Can I have more now? I’ll be better to ya. I really promise.”

His hands feel gentler now. You let him climb your body and capture you in another deep kiss. And with your legs crossed behind his back you let him fuck you again and chase his second orgasm and he’s right, he’s better now. He’s fighting with his body but he’s better.

When he cums again it feels boiling hot. It’s shot after shot deep inside you and he tugs your hair, bites your shoulder, strokes your lower stomach before moving down to rub at your clit which is incredible because he never thinks of that. This drug is making him different, his mind is overwhelmed by sex in a way it never is. Part of you likes it a lot. It’s new. It’s fun.

It doesn’t take him long before he’s hard again and dragging his cock through your walls in deep, deliberate strokes with his tongue in your mouth. Luffy is a million miles above the earth. With every orgasm his world shakes and crumbles for an instant before it’s rebuilt again in waves of desire that send him higher, higher. He’s a million miles above the earth and even as hours slip by and his body is drained again and again, he can’t come down.

__________________________

At some point the ship has set sail again. Clouds crawl by the porthole and the ocean rocks you both but you and Luffy stay in that soaked bed and get lost in each other for so long that you don’t even know what’s real anymore. You can’t tell sensation from sensation. Neither can he but he can’t come down.

There was that perfect sweet spot where you had just swam in each other in bliss and peace. You didn’t have to stop his gear changes anymore because his body had adjusted to this new universe. And you were in tune with each other. But now, now it’s bad again.

But in a different way.

Luffy is exhausted but so desperate still. His tears have started again and he doesn’t know what to do and he can’t even move and every part of his body aches. You’ve never seen him like this during sex, he’s never weak or tired. But his body is drained.

But that drug won’t let go.

“You ok?” you’re whispering, hand on his face. You lift Luffy in your arms and place him on his back. His eyes won’t leave yours, he’s starry eyed and love struck through his tears.

“Mh…” is all you can make out. He looks down at himself, his body is dripping wet and his cock is hard again, throbbing hard in overstimulation.

Every touch seems like it’s painful to him now. But he wants more so, so bad. So you place a pillow under his head, you curl up against his body, and you rub him with your hand. Your arm gets tired but you keep going for as long as you possibly can. And sometimes Luffy will open his mouth in a silent, breathless moan, sometimes his body will convulse and his cock will twitch. But his orgasms are dry now. There’s nothing left in him.

The last one, that’s when he grabs your face. With his last bit of strength he rolls onto you and clutches your cheeks in his hands and just stares at you, not letting you move, his thighs squeezing your leg. He rubs himself off on you one last time and with a final shudder he’s done. It’s all gone. It’s over.

He collapses into your arms, too tired to breathe anymore. You expect him to just sleep right there but instead he twists onto his back, batting at your face with his palm lazily, playfully. He giggles. He looks dreamy and dazed. But happy, actually. Really happy.

“Feeling alright?” You’re worried. You’re guilty, still. You’re praying nothing hurt him or made him sick.

“Mhm. Feel good!” Luffy’s beaming as if he already forgot everything that happened. He’s glowing, chest rising and falling heavily. But he tilts his head questioningly, “you?”

“Yeah. Just sore.” To which he rolls onto his elbows, kicking his legs in the air, he holds your body, he gives your hips a soft kiss. He’s appreciative, he’s so soft now, honey skin glowing in the sleepy sunshine.

But everything is wet. Your clothes on the bed next to you, the sheets, your bodies and hair. So with your arms around his shoulders, because it will be hard to walk for a while, the two of you throw on robes and step outside. You forgot the smell of fresh sea air after that mist of sex and sweat. Luffy’s heart beats against yours, calm and healthy, steady.

He sets you down and you take him in your arms, now, laying him against the mast. You take a towel to his hair, drying him, the sun on the wind sending the dewdrops you’re made of falling away from your shoulders in rainbows. You’re glittering, you and Luffy.

You should get you both some food soon, you should give yourselves a real bath, you should go and comfort Zoro and assure him that you’re both ok. But not yet. You don’t want that yet.

You avoid the eyes of the others as they pass below. You don’t want to talk about this with anyone but Luffy right now, the boy who looks like an angel resting below you, chiseled glistening body, sunlight divinity. He opens his mouth, he kisses your fingertips as you brush hair from his cheeks.

He wants to talk to you at first but he finds that his eyes are too heavy. He just yawns instead, and bares his teeth in a smile. And he holds your hand tightly with this deep, profound gratitude. You hear him whisper, beneath his breath, that he loves you.

[merakiui]

the birds and the bees.

yandere!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, slight dub-con, implied stalking, age gap (riddle is 19 and reader is 29) note - you're hired to teach riddle about the birds and the bees. you need the money. he needs to get laid.

The Rosehearts’s Residence looks about how you expected it to after driving past houses of similar size and grandeur. Unlike you, they’re definitely not strapped for cash. It’s an impressive structure with its elegant wrought iron gates and expertly trimmed hedges. You’re immediately overcome with bitter jealousy when you step through the entrance, passing rose bushes in full bloom. If only your apartment could look and feel as nice as this place. You almost wonder if you should keep Mrs. Rosehearts’s contact in case she ever needs a gardener or a window washer…

But then that risks your cover, and the last thing you want is to get tangled up in trouble with the upper middle class.

Gathering your courage, you smooth invisible wrinkles in your pencil skirt, steady your balance in your Mary Janes—both at socially acceptable lengths and heights—and bring your fist down against the door. Seconds after the third knock, it opens to reveal a woman who looks as prim and proper as the landscape of her home. She takes a long moment, drinking in your formal features, and then smiles approvingly.

“Ah, (Name), you’re early.”

You soften your face into something polite and demure. “Better early than late.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

She steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. You meander into the foyer and are instantly reminded of those exquisite house tours on MagiTube. There’s a fine layer of modest Victorian wealth to the decor. Flowery wallpaper, a lofty ceiling, an aureate chandelier, a vase filled with fresh tulips of all colors… Oh, how you wish you could live here!

“Your home is beautiful,” you comment as you straighten your bow headband.

“Why, thank you.” Her eyes light up once more. “I’ve always admired this neighborhood. Everything is so well-kept. Speaking of which, where did you say you’re from?”

“Oh, I’m actually getting ready to move back to school at the end of the summer,” you explain, narrowly dodging her question. No way I’m telling her I live in a not-so-affluent neighborhood… She’ll totally kick me out. “I’m staying with my parents in the meantime and working a few jobs to support myself.”

“And what was it you’re studying again?”

You paste a hollow smile on, sensing her distrust. I already told you this when we met at the clinic. Do I really seem so suspicious?

“I’m studying to be an ob-gyn.”

“A wonderful profession,” she praises, nodding to herself. “Very wonderful indeed. And how old are you? I merely ask to confirm. There are so many miscreants nowadays. You can never be too sure.”

“I understand completely, Mrs. Rosehearts. I’m—” you almost falter, your real age on the tip of your tongue— “twenty-two. What about your son? You told me he’s also looking to get into the medical field?”

“Not looking. He will pursue medicine,” she corrects sternly. “Just like his mother.”

You swallow your disgust and try not to let it show so openly. Yikes… Talk about controlling.

Mrs. Rosehearts waves you onwards down the hall. “My Riddle will be leaving for his first year of college at the end of August. Though I’m certain he’s more than prepared, it never hurts to review.”

“Absolutely. So you’d like me to give him the talk?”

“Not just that. I’d like you to teach him well enough so that copulation and any other libidinous ideas are the last things on his mind. Stamp them out if you must. He’s to focus on his studies and make good decisions just as I raised him.”

Shouldn’t he already be familiar with this? Besides, he’s not a kid. Of course he’s going to think about sex. Most of us do when we’re horny.

But you can’t say that outright, so you settle for something vastly different.

“It’s important to stay on the right path and be responsible.”

Mrs. Rosehearts nods her agreement. Your stomach twists in discomfort.

On second thought, I don’t want to be upper middle class if these are the people I have to deal with. Is this guy going to have any chance to be social? To live his life? To make and learn from stupid mistakes? I bet he can’t wait to get out of here and go off to school.

“I apologize if this is rude in any way, but I just want to ensure I’ll be paid accordingly.”

“Of course. Good work must always be recognized and rewarded.” She stops at a door. “I cannot thank you enough for lending my Riddle your time. Teach him well.”

“I’ll do just that. You can count on it.”

Pleased with the level of maturity you’ve displayed, she raps her knuckles against the door and calls out, “Riddle, the tutor’s here.”

“Very well, Mother. I’ve just finished today’s readings, so you can send them in,” comes a muffled reply.

Today’s readings? you think, perplexed. Your gaze slides from the door to Mrs. Rosehearts. Does she have this guy doing summer school? That must suck! What a shitty way to spend your summer, cooped up inside filling out workbooks and stuff.

“I’ll be out running errands in the meantime. I trust you’ll be all right by yourself?”

“Perfectly all right,” you assure her, to which she hums and strides past you. You catch her perfume as she departs, and it reminds you of the types of scents worn by saggy, old ladies who have nothing better to do than sit around and complain about the state of the world and the way their children turned out.

In other words, a scent you associate with misery.

You wait until she’s out of sight before opening the door and stepping inside the study. There’s a mahogany desk in the center, and thick textbooks are piled high on either side. Beyond that, beside a big bay window with cream-colored curtains drawn to let in the sun, two large bookcases are packed with an array of tomes. At the front of the room, a blackboard has been built into a wooden frame. Chalk lines the ledge, situated within reach of an eraser. And sitting at the desk, his eyes glued to an open book, is a young man. A pair of round frames sit on the bridge of his nose, slipping ever so slightly down the slope of it when he peers at the page. He pushes them up when he finally lifts his head to greet you.

“Hey.” You wave awkwardly, easing the door shut.

He seems taken aback by your appearance. “Oh, yes. Right. Hello…”

Silence soon fills the space. You wonder if you should just save yourself this nonsensical waste of time and retreat.

“Sooo.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking on your heels. “Your mother’s probably told you why I’m here.”

“I’m aware.” He shuts his book and stands from his seat. “My name is Riddle Rosehearts. A pleasure to meet you.”

You blink at his outstretched arm. “(Name). Likewise.” You grab his hand and shake firmly. 

So stiff…

“So where’re we starting? The basics? You want the whole ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ version or—”

Riddle scoffs and yanks his arm back. “I’m not a fool. I’ll have you know I’m well aware of sexual reproduction and what it entails.”

“You can call it sex. No one’s forcing you to be all biological,” you tease. His body goes rigid, and his face reddens in what you assume is flustered annoyance. “Anyways, since you’re not as brainless as Mother Dearest wants me to assume, I’ll just get into it.”

Riddle stares at you, his arms folding over his chest. He looks like he wants to argue, but instead he huffs and lowers into his chair.

Wordlessly, you undo the buttons on your blazer and shrug out of it. Your blouse goes next, untucked from your skirt and shucked. Riddle’s eyes are so wide they nearly pop out of his skull when he spies the white, lacy false collar that just barely covers your breasts. You’re about to step out of your pencil skirt next when Riddle clears his throat.

“W-What’re you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No?”

“I’m teaching you the birds and the bees.”

“N-Not in that outfit! S-Surely not…” He averts his eyes, crimson crawling up to his ears. “You’re practically nude!”

“That’s the point of lingerie, silly.” Your skirt pools around your ankles to reveal the rest of your frilly ensemble. A black-and-white cupless bra and crotchless panties set, both with plenty of ruffles, held together with a pair of garters. Still wearing matching stockings and your precious Mary Janes, you bend down to gather your discarded clothes. They’re set aside on a nearby chair. “You can look.”

“A-Absolutely not!” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. “Y-You… You’re not decent. It’s rude to stare.”

“Come on. You got past anatomy diagrams just fine.”

Riddle opens and closes his mouth, speechless like a beached fish. Eventually, he manages to gather his coherency. “You’re a tutor, aren’t you? Where’s your dignity?”

“Nonexistent. I lied.” His head snaps over to view you, and he seems so scandalized by your admission that it’s almost comedic. “No way I’m studying to be an ob-gyn. I’m not even in school.”

“What?! But you—”

“It’s fine. I looked the part, didn’t I?” you joke, waving your hand about dismissively. “C’mon, mama’s boy. You’re going off to college. It’s nothing like those stuffy anatomy courses.”

Riddle tries and fails to look at anywhere that isn’t you, his eyes lingering on your chest to the space between your legs to the thigh garter and then to the ceiling. He’s so red you think he might explode.

“You’ve been with a girl before, yeah?”

With lips pursed in a tight line, he shakes his head.

“Sounds about right.”

“And you’re so experienced?”

You flash him a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, mama’s boy.”

“I’m not a mama’s boy!”

“No? So you just let your mother treat you like a little baby at your grown age? You let her pick out sex tutors for you?”

“I—” He stops himself from speaking to mull over your questions. “If it’s what she deems necessary…”

“Because our biggest fear is sexually awkward you knocking up some girl at school, right?”

“I… I would never! Safe sex is—”

“Very important when you’re not trying to conceive. Good boy. See? You know your stuff.”

Riddle’s eyes narrow into vicious slits. You brush his scorching vitriol off and turn towards the board. Procuring a piece of chalk, you scrawl words on it: Birds and Bees 101. Wholly unamused, Riddle folds his arms across his chest.

“Your mother told me you’re gonna study medicine, so you’re probably familiar with everything already. And I’m sure you know all about the baby-making process on a biological level.” You whirl to face him, your tits bouncing with the peppy motion. Riddle swallows thickly. “But just to make sure… Let’s review.”

“R-Review? You don’t mean—”

“What’s this?” Your hands close around your tits. Riddle’s enchanted with the way you squeeze them—the way they depress under your fingers.

“Um… Ahem. Well… T-The breasts. They’re a type of glandular organ located on a woman’s chest, and they’re made up of lots of tissue and fat. There’s the mammary gland—that’s what produces milk. Oh, and then there are the areolas right around the nipples. Those are—”

“You can call them what they are.”

Riddle blinks, shaken from his studious spiel. “W-What?”

“You know the word, mama’s boy.”

He flusters. “Yes, I’m aware. But…”

“No harm in saying it.” You run your fingers over your nipples and giggle sweetly like a schoolgirl. “Go on…”

He inhales a deep breath. “They’re tits,” he mumbles, desultory. “Y-Your tits.”

You clap, beaming brightly. “Well done! Moving swiftly on…” You run your hands down the expanse of your stomach, stopping just beneath your navel. “What’s here?”

“Your womb. O-Otherwise known as the uterus. It’s where a baby grows over the course of nine months.”

“Mhm. Good job.”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, clearing his throat. “There’s more to your reproductive system than the uterus. Lots of parts. Important parts.”

“Right. But I don’t need to quiz you on it. You obviously know your stuff.”

Again, your fingers inch lower until they’re prodding at your folds. Riddle’s breath audibly hitches.

“And this?”

“Your vagina. It’s where—”

“What’s the other word?”

Riddle avoids your stare. “It sounds so vulgar…”

“So what?”

“S-So there ought to be a term that’s more…flattering.”

“Like what?” You approach him and, with the grace of a swan, lift your leg onto the desk to give him a better view of yourself. Shamelessly, you dip your fingers inside to spread yourself. “A guy called it the honeypot once. That pretty enough for you?”

Riddle squeaks and flinches back in his chair, his face now even redder than it was before. “T-That’s fine…”

“Really? I’d have thought the implication in that one is much dirtier than calling it a pussy.”

It takes him a moment to connect the dots, but once he does he gasps. “Ah. Then…”

You press inwards with your fingers, exaggerating a pornographic sigh. “Yeah?”

“Can I… M-May I call it your flower?”

“Sure.” His shoulders slacken with a flicker of relief. Your next words shatter that and his pride in one fell swoop. “That one’s not as special as you think, mama’s boy. I’ve heard it all—every type of flower you can think of.”

“Even a rose?”

“Especially a rose.” His lips twist into a disappointed moue. You chuckle and add, “You can call it a rose if you want. I don’t mind.”

Riddle meets your eyes then, searching them for the joke. When one doesn’t present itself, he relaxes. “All right. It’s a very pretty rose. Soft…”

“Aww. Thanks for saying so. It’s softer inside, y’know. See?” Spreading yourself wider, you angle your hips to bless him with the full view. “My fingers slide right in. Wanna guess why?”

“B-Because the vagina naturally—” He stops himself, his brows knitting together in contemplation. When he speaks next, it’s with a determined sort of conviction. “When you’re aroused, your rose produces a natural lubricant during sexual excitement.”

“Mhm. We call that ‘feeling good and getting wet,’ Dr. Rosehearts.”

“Yes. Y-Yes, I know that.” He eyes your pussy, a ravenous glimmer in his intelligent blue-greys. “And the wetness—it’s supposed to make it feel better. To make insertion easier, I mean.”

“Right again.” You ease your fingers out but not before thrusting them deeper just so he can hear the sinful sounds. They shimmer with your essence, enticing in a forbidden way. “What about the other parts? How about this spot here?” You brush against the hood of your clit, circling it slowly.

Riddle watches, hopelessly spellbound. “The clitoris.”

“I’m impressed. Most guys don’t know about it.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“But it’s your most sensitive erogenous zone! Just how uninformed does one have to be to neglect such a crucial part to your sexual anatomy?”

“Woefully uninformed, I’m afraid,” you mutter with a pout. Your fingertips drag your hood up to reveal that pretty, perky nub. “I think it’s dumb your mother wants me to talk you out of sex. You’re going to college. You’re an adult. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“I…” Riddle frowns at that last line. “I have no interest in it. Besides, it’ll only hinder my studies. If I really need it, I’ll just masturbate. That’s healthy every now and then, and it doesn’t break any rules.”

“Really? No interest at all?” You shoot him a knowing look and run your tongue along your bottom lip. “Because your dick’s telling a different story.”

Riddle sputters, embarrassed, and squeezes his thighs together. His hands fly to cover his lap. “That’s because you’re—” He gazes at the floor. “Because you’re so pretty…”

Temporarily thrown off course, you gape at him. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Gathering the remnants of your mask, you piece it together and laugh. “Not the first time I’ve heard someone describe it like that.”

“Not just your pussy.” Your gaze snaps to his. He smiles, impish. “I’m sure you know what I mean, Teacher.”

You exhale a short laugh. “Someone’s suddenly confident.”

Riddle rises from his seat. His fingers close around your wrist, gently pulling it away from your clit. He moves around the desk to stand in front of you and then, before you can comprehend his intentions, he’s pushing you down onto the desk. You yelp at the sudden change in position, your eyes blown wide when he presses his clothed hard-on against your bare pussy.

“You’re doing a poor job at dissuading me from wanting sex.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

“Not in that outfit.” He grabs at the meat of your thighs and parts them. “If Mother knew you lied to her…”

You shake your head at him. “Please don’t tell her. I… I’m being serious. I need this money.”

“Desperately?”

Your lip curls into the beginning of a sneer. You hate feeling powerless more than anything, but the fiery glaze in his eyes is just as troubling. “I’m not going to beg.”

“I haven’t asked for that yet.”

You roll your eyes. “Not funny. I agreed to teach you about sex. We’re not actually doing it.”

“A shame.”

“You’ll find a nice girl at school. Don’t lose hope, mama’s boy. Lots of girls like the smart types who’ll give ’em a lecture on biology and stuff.”

“I think you misunderstand. I don’t want other girls.”

“Okay?”

“My mother’s paying for a tutor and I desire you, so unless you want to leave here as a lying cheat…” He hums, seeming awfully haughty to hold the only thing that tethers you to him above your head. “You need the money, right?”

“Yes. Sure, of course I do. But—” You shift on the desk, silently horrified when he rocks against you. “We can’t. Your mother—”

“Weren’t you the one saying I should live my life? That I have the freedom to do as I please?”

“That doesn’t mean—come on; listen to yourself. You can’t honestly think I’d fuck you.”

“No? And yet you came wearing this outfit, parading around the study with your pussy and tits out.” He glances past you at the window. “And you didn’t even bother to close the curtains… How brazen.”

Your attempt to jerk away from him is made in vain. He pins you down onto the desk, one hand squeezing your breast, while the other works to fish himself from his trousers. Now hard and leaking, his cock rests against your stomach. It’s not a terrible size. If anything, it’s perfect. Just right for your tastes.

“W-Wait! It’s not safe. You can’t—” You inhale sharply, bucking up towards his hand when he presses his thumb against your clit. Biting your lip, you fix him with a glower. “If you pay me… If you promise not to tell your mother—”

Riddle leans in close. “No one needs to know. No one but us.”

Your eyes flit about the room. With a withering sigh, you submit to his touch. “You’d better pull out in time.”

Riddle rolls his hips once and his cock drags along your folds. You hiss through your teeth at this new friction, a sinful delight more dizzying than any type of alcohol consumed in excess. “Do you want to be a mother?”

“What I want has nothing to do with you. I’m just—ooh—t-trying to survive. You wouldn’t know what that’s like, so don’t poke fun.”

Riddle hums, kneading your breast and rubbing you to the edge all at once. It’s so very obviously his first time, his zealous nature trumping any sort of experienced technique. It still does the trick, though, sending little bolts of pleasure up your spine.

“My mother wouldn’t just choose anyone. Her standards are very high.” His eyes flick to your face, drinking in your expression as it shifts with restrained bliss. “Somehow you’ve earned her approval.”

“Lying’ll do that.”

“Maybe.” His fingers replicate the motions you did earlier, though with a singular objective in mind. He’s so focused on succeeding in this endeavor that it makes him look so stiff. Under any other circumstances, you’d find it cute. “Mother always knows what’s best for me. Obviously you’ve met her criteria if she’s hired you.”

“Spoken like a true mama’s boy.” Seeing as this is now your unavoidable fate, you reach up to touch his shoulders. He jolts, his initial glare softening. You tamp down another giggle and massage up and along his arms. “Relax a little. Don’t rush so much.”

Or do. Let’s get this over with before your mother catches us.

Riddle traces two fingers along your labia. He’s quiet as he takes all of you in, and when he sinks three fingers into your gooey heat his breath catches in his throat. “Are you… D-Do you feel good?”

You reach for his unoccupied hand and guide it to your clit. Riddle understands the suggestion well enough, for he massages you slowly. Sucking in another breath, you nod at him.

“Not bad. You’re getting there.”

His neglected cock throbs at the praise, and so you wrap your fingers around it to give it the same amount of attention he’s currently giving you. Riddle grits his teeth at the contact.

“You can move your fingers. Don’t just focus on my clit.”

“Ah. Right. Of course,” he babbles dumbly, so swept up in everything that you are, so very eager to please.

You’re like a work of art pinned to his desk, a delicacy more forbidden than anything from the bakery. Sugary-sweet, adorned in skimpy ruche, you’re a temptation laid bare. Delicately, as if you might shatter, he curls his fingers to press up against your insides. Riddle watches you arch up towards him, your hand working his cock maddeningly slow and steady. It feels good—better than anything he could have ever imagined.

His eyes trail from your lips to your tits to your pussy stretched around his fingers. “Do you have any plans for this summer?”

The sudden question catches you off guard. You were expecting something related to sex, not whatever this new shred of curiosity is. Still, that doesn’t stop you from dragging him closer to the edge of ecstasy with every tug of your fist.

“Why?”

“I… I’d like to get to know you.”

“Me?”

“Of course. You’re more than a body to me.”

“How charming. I just—” You frown, unable to follow where he’s going with this. “Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Even though he says it like it’s a fact, he looks shy. “I want to know you.”

“Uh… Yeah… Okay.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Not that… It’s just hard to imagine you having any girl friends.”

Riddle rolls his eyes and grinds his thumb into your clit. You bite back a whine as his fingers pump in and out of you. “Is that space open or closed?”

“You know which one.”

“You could be the one to close it.”

You meet his eyes then. For a short minute, the two of you hold each other’s stare. And then, breaking free from his hypnotic hold, you squeeze his length gently. He shudders, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

“And what about you? You excited for your first year?”

“Mm, yeah,” he murmurs, rutting into your hand. His fingers spread you open, scissoring gently.

“Just make sure to take time for yourself. Have fun. Live.”

“What did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you were at school—how’d you manage?”

“I never went.” He opens his mouth to interject, but you beat him to it. “Couldn’t afford it.”

“Oh…”

“It’s fine! I’ve got plenty of experience in other things. I don’t need school for that.”

Riddle doesn’t believe your feigned optimism for a second. “If you could’ve gone, what would you have studied?”

You release his cock from your hold and reach up to pull his glasses from his face. Gingerly, minding the fragile frames, you set them aside. You lift your index to your lips, effortlessly coy. “It’s a secret.”

Before he can protest, you tap the hand at your cunt next. Riddle’s fingers, wet and shiny, slide out with a slick squelch. “I think you can do it.”

“What?”

“Go to school and study what you want. I believe in you.”

A wooden laugh tumbles from your lips. “Thanks for the encouragement, mama’s boy.”

“I have a name, you know.”

You smile easily. “You want me to call you something else? How does ‘good boy’ sound?”

Even though he tries not to let it show, his cock betrays his reticence with a small twitch. He’s an open book. Not wanting to give you the satisfaction, he lines himself up instead. Your fingers slip down to spread yourself for him.

“S-Slowly…” you whisper, stumbling over your breath as the head of his cock presses inside. Shallow at first before more inches fill you.

Riddle heaves a shaky gasp, his eyes wide with amazement. “I… I’m inside you…”

“How’s it feel?” “Warm. Soft. Snug. R-Really good.” He bows his head and digs his fingers into your hips. You think he has a dozen more adjectives on the tip of his tongue, each one just as fluffy as the last. “D-Do you feel good? It doesn’t hurt?”

“I’m fine.” You wind your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Your hands come to rest upon his shoulders once more. “Move your hips.”

Riddle does just that. His pace is awkward and inexperienced, every motion unsteady and jerky, as he searches for the right rhythm. He falls into it surprisingly fast, and it isn’t long until he’s smoothly rutting into you. You grab at his shirt, your breath coming in reedy huffs.

“Good. You—haa—good. You’re doing good.” Praise pours from your lips like a waterfall, plentiful and refreshing. It invigorates him, fills him with a confidence that wasn’t there before.

The soft slap of skin on skin fills the room. You keep your voice in check, lest you lose yourself and alert Mrs. Rosehearts. Riddle seems to be doing the same, even though it’s obvious he’s struggling much more than you are. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth to suppress his groans.

“You can touch me,” you whisper, petting his cheek. He blinks at you, his face aflame with a bright blush.

Nervously, he reaches for you and then pauses. Contemplation passes over his features. “What feels better? I want you to—no. I will make sure you cum. I’ve studied it, actually. I know how long it takes.”

“Look at you, doing your research like a diligent student. You want extra credit?”

Riddle chuckles and pinches your clit between two fingers. The rest of your teasing tapers off into a lewd squeal. “What was that about extra credit?”

“You’re awfully bold for your first time.”

“I’m not clueless.” His hips press inwards, plastering you to the desk, and his cock brushes that special spot within—the spot that has you seeing stars, your every nerve tingling with pleasure. You choke around a delighted gasp. Riddle, feeling victorious,  places his hand against your stomach, as if searching to feel his cock thrust up inside you. “Will I see you again after this?”

“If your mother wants me to come back and give you another pointless lecture on celibacy and safe sex, sure.”

“No, not that. Outside of this.”

“Don’t you have friends you’d rather hang out with?”

“I…do.”

“So spend time with them.”

Riddle doesn’t dignify that with a retort. With the way his eyes gloss over, you wonder just how many of these friends are within physical distance. The conversation stalls out into silence.

“You’ll make lots of friends at school. So many you’ll probably forget all about me.”

Riddle yanks your hips to meet his, driving himself deeper into your pussy.

“A-And you’ll find a nice girl to love if you’re looking for that kinda thing.”

“I am,” he confesses, breathless. “I want to get married and—mmh—start a family one day… I want to study law—become a lawyer… Mother thinks medicine suits me, but I can’t agree. Law is fascinating. It’s a perfect fit for me. Far better than medicine.”

You drag your thumb over your mouth, wetting it with your lipgloss, and then press it to his lips. The indirect kiss sends a tidal wave of arousal over him, darkening the tips of his ears in striking vermillion. You offer him a gentle smile while he recovers from that devastating flirt.

“I’ll make sure to hire you as my lawyer if I ever get into legal trouble.”

“You’d better not!” He laughs and shakes his head in amused disbelief. “But if you do, I’ll be there for you. Always.”

“Thanks, Riddle.”

Maybe I judged him too harshly. He’s not so bad.

In that stuffy study, just as the late afternoon gives way to red-orange streaked across a purple-pink sky, Riddle fucks you against that desk in all manner of rhythms. It’s when he finally picks up speed that you realize he’s nearing his end. You mirror his enjoyment, strung along by titillating touches and whispered words drenched in sweetness. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve reached rapture alongside him, your pussy now brimming with cum. There’s so much it leaks out of your slick hole when he draws away, only to burrow his cock deeper to stuff it back inside.

The room reeks of sweat and sex. You think, if not your disheveled appearance, the smell will definitely tell Mrs. Rosehearts all she needs to know.

“I love you,” Riddle murmurs, and you’re about to ask him what he means—maybe he’s caught up in the moment and doesn’t realize what he’s saying—but then he lifts your legs up to fold you into a mating press. Coherent thoughts are knocked out of your head when he spills over, filling you up for the nth time that day. You shiver beneath him, eyes rolled back into your skull and tongue lolling out. You feel so stupid, fucked submissive by some inexperienced, upper middle class mama’s boy. Which isn’t even an insult with real heat to it, but in your hazy mind it’s all you can think of to describe him.

He grinds against you in the aftermath, panting from the exhilaration and adrenaline. 

“We need to…open the window,” you mutter, your heart thumping wildly in your chest.

Riddle admires your fucked-out expression in his sex-drunk daze. He slides out just as he feels himself going flaccid. Cum drips onto the desk below. Briefly, you struggle to recall whether or not you took your birth control today.

Something to consider later. Definitely not right now when you’re still clinging to the vestiges of your orgasm.

— — —

Mrs. Rosehearts knocks on the door, opening it to find Riddle sitting at his desk, jotting notes and occasionally pushing his glasses up. You’re standing at the blackboard, writing a list of the consequences of unplanned pregnancies. The room smells pleasantly of roses.

“Pardon my intrusion.”

You gaze at her and smile, wearing the clothes you arrived in. Nothing’s amiss. It’s perfect—thankfully. “Welcome back, Mrs. Rosehearts. We’re just about finished here.”

“Is that right? I assume all went well?”

“Very well. Your son’s a fast learner. Extremely talented.”

“I would expect nothing less.” She withdraws an envelope and hands it to you. “Thank you again for explaining it in realistic terms. Of course I doubt that my Riddle will act senselessly while he’s away, but as his mother I’m prone to worrying. Boys his age are so easily influenced.”

“O-Of course! That’s a very valid concern.” You force a chuckle.

If only she knew.

“Your pay is in that envelope. Should I ever require your assistance again, I’ll be sure to call.”

“Right… Thank you.” You hold it close to your chest. “I’m happy to help.”

You follow her out the door. She pauses to address Riddle. “Do continue reviewing your notes. We’ll convene for dinner in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Mrs. Rosehearts walks you to the gate. “I wish you luck in your studies. If I don’t see you again at the clinic, have a pleasant summer.”

“Thank you. You as well.” You smile, fidgeting slightly. A bead of sweat tracks a path down your leg from between cum-spattered thighs.

Finally! With this I can pay my rent and still have enough for a treat from the bakery.

It’s worth it, or so you continue to tell yourself.

— — —

From the window, Riddle watches you make the walk to your car. He lifts his phone to fit you in the camera and snaps a secret photo. He continues to watch you until you’ve driven off and turned the corner, disappearing from his sight.

A tiny smile tugs at his lips.

Within his phone, put under a password lock, a special photo album exists. It’s filled with pictures taken from your social media—all of them. Every. Single. One. He’s resourceful when he wants to be. He can play the parody of a tech genius when he sets his sights on something.

And you’re just perfect.

[arayurveda99]

Horsefire tablet is an ayurvedic medicine to boost men's stamina. It can make you able to stay longer in bed and does a long-lasting performance. It is prepared with a blend of excellent herbs like Ashwagandha, Shilajit, Shatavari, Kaucha, Shwet Musli, Vidari, Gokshura, Kesar, and more. These herbs contain natural medicinal properties that have long been known to increase strength, power, and stamina by eliminating disease.

It helps to increase power, stamina, vigor, and vitality by eliminating the weakness of men. Shilajit increases the men's hormones that help in the betterment of performance, Because we all know very well about Shilajit, it is also the greatest ayurvedic stamina booster. Shatavari and Safed musli helps to eliminate problems like premature ejaculation and improve the timing of your performance. It also helps to get a stronger erection during intercourse and fulfill excitement with your partner. 

[httpsserene]

I LOVED daniel ricciardo x max verstappen x reader!! could you write a part 2?

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞: 𝐊.𝐎. !

summary: Okay, Daniel may have won the first round. He cleared her dry spell with no problem and used Max to do it, too. That’s completely fine, she will never complain about experiencing some of the best orgasms of her life. But, Max (the man unable to not have the last word) coerces her into giving Daniel a taste of his own medicine.  As soon as they can manage to walk on two feet, without a wobble. Mark their fucking words.  pairing: daniel ricciardo x max verstappen x fem!black!reader content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. author recommends reading part one before this. polyamory. threesome. massages. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. safe, sane, and consensual. bondage. safeword mention. unprotected sex. ruined orgasm. handjob. oral sex (male receiving). edging. crying during sex. praise kink. nipple play. dom/sub ig? joking during sex. dom!max verstappen. switch!daniel ricciardo. sub!reader. vaginal sex. anal sex (male). sex toys (butt plug). frottage. don’t like don’t read. no beta we die like men. edited by the author, though. this is a fictional depiction of real-life people, and this is not an accurate representation of them. word count: 4.3k words

author’s notes: to all the lovely readers who begged for a part two of my f1 kinktober special | overstimulation kink w danny & max. these tags may look crazy...okay, they are but the fic is reasonably crazy i would say. this was humbling to write, you have been warned. my 2k followers special comes to its end with this final installment and there will be no part three of this fic < 3. i may repost this on ao3 in a week or so, for ease of reading as i know long fics on tumblr are kind of annoying :)

(i'm going to take a little pause from writing daniel ricciardo fics but those of you that have requested things for him i will get to them in due time xxx)

prev part 1 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents↻

Your body feels like it’s been wrung out: legs wobbly, thighs bruised, hips aching, back broken, and numb with heat between your legs. You refuse to wear pants as the friction is too paralyzing to take more than a few steps. Loose dresses are your best friend–for the first couple of days, you even went commando around the ranch—thank god neither one of your boyfriends clued into that. 

However, it’s not like you disliked the oversensitivity and aching muscles that came after sex. You loved the feeling even more as it was the first time you’d been properly fucked in a few months. Having that unending thirst for Max and Daniel quenched; it’s heightened how you experience life. You swear that your vision feels sharper, your melanated skin softer, anything you eat tastes better than delicious, the homemade lemonade is sweeter, and most importantly, your desperation has calmed. While you love life on the farm, where living has become succulent under your senses—Max’s attitude has done a complete 180°.

His energy is completely subdued. It’s like Daniel drained the cum and brat out of him. Max is all stuttered words when he makes eye contact with either of you, blushing fully at the lightest tease or brush of skin, voice soft when he speaks, usual bluntness replaced with shyness, and he’s even clingier than normal. If he hasn’t glued himself underneath Daniel’s arm, he’ll be plastered against your back.

You wonder if he’s embarrassed that Daniel changed their “plan” on him at the last minute, or if it’s because Daniel used him as a tool to get you off—but, asking Max would only scare him away or cause the brat to resurface…so you don’t verbalize your theories. You find Max in this state more adorable than usual, and you won’t complain if it means a surplus of Max-cuddles.

Yet, the figurative rug is pulled from beneath your feet when the three of you go Christmas shopping. Daniel had separated from the two of you to go pick up a gift for his nephew, leaving you and Max alone to browse through knickknacks that decorate the shelves. Your eyes were caught by cat ornaments that looked exactly like Jimmy and Sassy but before you could reach out to grab, them Max grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to hide in the next aisle over.

“I want to break Daniel with so many orgasms that he won’t be able to speak by the time we’re done with him,” Max states bluntly. The brat is back.

“Regulate your volume,” you whisper-yell at him, hand moving to cover his mouth as you look around to see if anybody heard your Dutch boyfriend, “We are in public and you decided now is the time to bring this up?!”

He pulls your hand off his face, looking at you with wide eyes, “But, liefje–c’mon! Daniel’s been way too smug recently. Whenever I’m around him he doesn’t miss the chance to mention how he made me cry—made you cry, too!”

“Inside voice, Max,” you bite out, continuing to look at the Christmas decorations in this aisle.

“Fine,” Max whispers, rolling his eyes, “Technically, it’s another Christmas present for him if you think about it.”

“I’m trying not to think about it if you haven’t noticed.”

“Don’t you want to even the board? Imagine it: Daniel underneath the two of us, and we’re overwhelming him with pleasure. Doesn’t that sound like a good time?”

You stop walking abruptly and Max runs into your back. You spin around and stare at him with narrowed eyes and a flared nose.

“You seriously thought the best time to discuss this is in the middle of a family-friendly store, where our boyfriend is picking up a gift for his nephew?”

“Yes.”

“If you stop talking about it for the entire time we’re shopping today, I’ll consider it. We can discuss this when the phantom feeling of his cum on my skin goes away.”

That evening, you and the Dutchman watch Daniel fix a motorbike out in the driveway from the garage. He’s shirtless, sweat dripping down his face and back, you can see every muscle engage and relax as he moves. He’s silhouetted by the Australian sunset and you hear Max choke on his breath when Daniel’s loose jeans slip down his hips, exposing the waistband of his briefs—twin sighs of disappointment leave you both when he catches and drags them back up. With shaky hands, you grab the pitcher of lemonade you prepared to pour a glass for each of you. Ignoring how you missed the glass on your first few attempts, you two bring the drinks to your lips and dry the cups embarrassingly quickly to satiate your desperation—the lemonade doesn’t help. 

Daniel finishes with the bike and wipes his hands on a towel he had tucked into his back pocket, looking your guys’ way. He smiles brightly—shamefully, you wave in response and Max tucks a nonexistent strand of hair behind his ear; the two of you are acting like school girls with a crush. 

The Australian stands and in a few relaxed strides, he comes to a stop in front of you two. 

“Can you pour me a glass, sweetheart?” his request rumbles out velvety.

Stuttering, you scramble to do as he asked and find that Max has reached for the pitcher as well when your hands bump into each other. The two of you freeze and stare at each other with wide eyes; Max’s blush blooms red across his face and yours warms the brown skin of your cheeks. Daniel’s chuckle of amusement snaps you out of it; Max pours the drink, and you hand it off to the Australian, avoiding eye contact. He brings the glass to his lips and drains it dry. You and the Dutchman stare with gaped mouths, watching the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, whimpering and pressing your thighs together at his ah in satisfaction when finished. 

He leans down to place the glass back on the tray and smirks at you and Max, “Absolutely delicious. It almost tastes as sweet as either of you is acting right now.”

Both of you stay silent, squirming in your lawn chairs. Daniel takes a second to slowly press both of your mouths closed with a nudge of his fingers before straightening up and clearing his throat.

“Thank you for the drink, sweetheart,” Daniel cocks his head to the side in question, before winking, his smug aura radiating off of him, “Or should I say, ‘sweethearts?’ As both of you seemed so eager to help me quench my thirst.”

Your mouth pops open again and Max audibly whimpers next to you. Daniel laughs and walks to enter the house, “Don’t feel afraid to join me in the shower.”

The plan is set before Daniel’s out of the shower. You’ve changed into a black mini slip dress, curls loosely cascading down your back as you’ve draped yourself on top of the bed sideways, face-down on your tummy, not caring how the back of your dress has ridden up a couple of inches. Max laid himself on his side next to you, dressed in a navy Enchanté shirt and a pair of Daniel’s briefs that hug at his thighs a little too tightly, and plays with the bottom hem of your dress, letting his fingers drift underneath to press at bruises that haven’t healed from that night. 

At the sound of the shower shutting off, the two of you glance at each other; Max checking in with you one last time before you guys follow through with the plan. At your nod, Max presses a soft kiss to your lips and goes back to fiddling with your dress. You rest your head on your folded arms and as your eyes flutter shut, the bathroom door opens.

You hear Daniel humming some country song and he gets about three steps into the room before he stops abruptly.

“Well, if I had known this would be waiting for me out here, I wouldn’t have spent a lifetime in the shower waiting for you guys to take me up on my offer.”

Max makes a noise of confusion, his hand pausing at your hemline, “What are you talking about? We just thought it would be nice to give you a massage—you know, prevent any muscle tightness from when you were hunched over the bike.”

“Is that so, pretty girl?” Daniel questions you, looking past Max. He’s dried off from his shower already, skin gleaming thanks to your cocoa butter lotion he probably stole, hair still damp but not dripping, and a towel wrapped around his waist. You’re sure he’s trying to sniff out any weakness; to see if he can bend you into revealing Max’s agenda for tonight. Little does he know that you’re not an accomplice, you’ve put a good amount of work into this plan too.

In response, you offer a small smile and hold up a bottle of massage oil that was previously tucked into your side. Daniel’s narrowed eyes flit between the two of you, and then he relaxes, shrugging loftily as he motions for the two of you to move so he can lie down. 

“Okay, sure,” Daniel laughs, falling into the bed as soon as the space is available, lying flat on his stomach, face planting into the pillows and his next words are muffled but loud enough to understand, “You don’t have to use ‘giving me a massage’ as an excuse to feel me up, but I’m not going to turn it down if you’re so willing to do so.”

You and Max are kneeling on opposite sides of Daniel’s body on the bed, resting on the heels of your feet, and you muffle a giggle at Max rolling his eyes at your boyfriend’s words. The younger man slaps his hand on Daniel’s back, grinning at the stifled yelp that sounds from near the headboard, and coos sarcastically, “Do you think you can handle that level of pain? Considering this is a deep-tissue massage?”

You drizzle a nice amount of oil on the middle of his back, letting your laughter escape as Daniel pleads, “Woah—hear me out, what about a regular massage? I would like to end this massage without crying from soreness, please.”

Slowly the two of you turn to look at each other, smiles spreading across your lips, and Max murmurs, “Oh. You’ll be crying by the end of this.”

You ignore Daniel begging for mercy underneath you and beginning massaging. For all of the Dutchman’s ribbing, the two of you are gentle. Your hands soothingly rub any tension out of his back; the two of you are only doing this to melt Daniel into the bed. He protests and grumbles through the both of you digging into his shoulders, but quiets as you make your way down his back, practically moaning when you push a knot out from behind his shoulder blade. Max manages to wrangle out a whimper when he presses his thumb into the dimple of his lower back. Neither of you gets close to the towel resting low on his hips; you want to keep him as calm and unaware as possible, but getting close to that towel would do the opposite. When Daniel’s breathing slows and his sounds of relief start to lessen, Max gently coaxes Daniel into rolling on his back with ease.

The brunette’s eyes flutter open, but you tut disapprovingly when his gaze meets yours. With a kiss on his forehead, Daniel closes his eyes at your word, not fighting you for a second. And from that point, you and Max begin conditioning the older man to get used to only having one pair of hands on him at a time. Max massages his chest, you take a break, you massage his chest, Max takes a break; and as Daniel starts to relax at the rhythm, you guys slowly increase the length of your breaks. 

Until the breaks get long enough to slip the ties that you guys fastened to the headboard out.

Daniel was so entranced at the sight of you and Max sprawled on his bed that he forgot to examine his surroundings. They’re silk ties, with pre-made straps for you to tighten as soon as his hands are inside them. The two of you take it to the next step; you each begin to massage his arms (still employing your regular breaks), raising them upwards to “get a better angle.” Daniel doesn’t even shift at the change, he just hums under his breath when either of you soothes across a good spot. And with little effort, you and Max raise both of his arms and smoothly slip his tattooed hands into the ties, tightening the straps in the blink of an eye.

The older man startles, eyes flying open as he tries to yank his wrists free of the binds, “Uhhhh, what the fuck?”

Both of you watch as Daniel tries to free himself without any luck, enjoying the show as the silk ties prove they won’t give out. Chills shudder down your spine as your older boyfriend tries to order the two of you to release him, but he must see the feral glint shine in your eyes because he switches to asking when neither of you moves.

“You know what to say if you really want us to let you go, Daniel,” Max states bluntly, pulling off his Enchanté shirt easily. 

You hum in agreement, straddling the Australian’s hips and simultaneously tugging your slip dress over your head and tossing it to the side, exposing your bare body before seating yourself on the bulge showing through the towel. Daniel chokes out a curse, his eyes dancing between yours and Max’s bodies being dangled in front of his face without being able to touch.

He tests the binds for any give half-heartedly before sniffing dismissively, jaw tightening as he challenges Max, “Do your worst, baby.”

Max scoffs out a laugh, “That is the plan.”

From there you and Max turn into savages. Both of you bypass kissing Daniel, pressing lips and biting bruises along his neck and torso instead. The man can only cry out as Max terrorizes his nipples with teeth and pinching fingers while you paint marks on his hipbones and navel. The older man isn’t convinced that the night will end without the two of you seriously attempting cannibalism but the thought is pushed away when the towel is tugged off his hips.

Max laughs mockingly and flicks Daniel’s already-hardened length, “Well, this will be even easier than we thought, liefje.”

“I was half-hard from the minute you guys put your hands on me,” Daniel snipes, “Don’t let this go to your head.”

You raise an eyebrow in question, tilting your head to the side innocently which contrasts the strong grasp of your hand around the head of Daniel’s cock, “Isn’t that a compliment, though? Anyways, it clearly went to your head.”

Daniel groans in pleasure as you start to rapidly stroke along his quickly reddening length, “That was a terrible pun–fuck–but, I’m only letting it slide because your hand is on my cock.”

He bucks up into your fist and you release him immediately, smiling as you see him choke down a whimper of disappointment. The older man isn’t left alone for long, as Max drags the tip of his index finger along the slit of Daniel’s cock before flattening his palm across the head and roughly circling it to overwhelm him with an alarming amount of pleasure-coated friction. 

The brunette can’t stifle his cries this time nor can he buck his hips, thanks to the Dutchman pinning him down with his free forearm. Max pulls both of his hands away quickly, delighting in Daniel’s sounds of displeasure, the two of you watching as he attempts to chase a hand that isn’t there anymore. His length is throbbing, pulsing angrily, redder than the blush that stains his tanned chest. You swallow wantingly. Both of you thought that you would be able to get a few more rounds out of a handjob, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

Max gets his hand around the base and yours circles the tip. Simultaneously, the two of you start rubbing him off in time, keeping your fists just tight enough and your motions just quick enough to hurtle Daniel to the edge. He throws his head back into the pillows, hips freely bucking as neither one of you attempts to stop him, his hands pulling against the ties all the while,

“You can cum whenever you want, Daniel,” Max states.

The older man lets out several pants of desperation, calling both of your names as he nears his climax. And when you both see the telltale sign of Daniel’s chest rising and falling heavily, you release his cock.

“No! Wait–shit,” he tries to gasp, but it’s too late. His cock starts leaking, jerking pathetically as cum drips down his length in ribbons—his orgasm ruined. Dry sobs escape his lungs as he humps the air, looking for friction that isn’t there, continuing to beg for a hand even as he struggles to breathe as a result of the unsatisfying release.

You let him come down hard, offering support in a quick squeeze of the meat of his thigh over his tattoo. When he catches his breath, his eyes flutter open. Max sees the wetness gathered in the waterlines and moves in the blink of an eye, enveloping Daniel’s still-hard cock in his mouth. 

The Australian’s back arches off the bed, hips racing forward then backward as he cries out, unsure if the feeling of Max’s mouth is good. Both pairs of your hands fly forward to still Daniel, forcing him to feel every crevice of Max’s tongue and throat, trying to bring him to another orgasm as quickly as possible. It works, Daniel stops fighting and starts obeying, rolling upward into Max’s mouth, whimpering out depravedly as he struggles against his binds again. You see his abs start to undulate in waves, a second orgasm trying to form and you slip your hand underneath Max’s chin, lightly squeezing at Daniel’s balls—and the tears fall as his release slams into him like a semi-truck.

The younger man swallows around Daniel, humming as he does it, yet the bobbing motion of his head doesn’t stop—Max is going to try his hardness to prevent Daniel from going soft, even as the older man tries to fight and twist away from the wet grasp of his throat. The Australian’s tears paint his cheek as he sobs messily, and you’re quick to check in with him as Max’s mouth is occupied.

“Daniel, color?” you manage to make your voice sound steady, but your thighs are trembling, your cunt pulsing with wetness and need. 

The man whimpers, eyes unseeingly looking down at you and Max as he cries messily, “Green.”

You moan breathily, finally giving in to your urges and rushing forward to messily kiss Daniel. You let him cry into your mouth, nipping at his lips and tasting his tears before pulling away. Max pulls off Daniel’s cock with a reedy gasp and moves backward quickly so you can slip in between them, seating your cunt atop the half-hard length and beginning to grind along him. The brunette makes a sound as if he’s been punched in the gut, arms pausing in their fight against the ties before they resume with renewed strength. Daniel scrambles to get his feet underneath him, trying to buck off the hot, wet drag of your cunt against his cock. It’s pulsing so violently that he swears he can feel it in his throat. 

Max knocks his feet down, and tugs Daniel’s chin to look at him with a hardened grasp, with his voice rough and croaky he commands, “Can you give us one more, Daniel?”

Daniel's glossy, brown eyes stare at Max without answer, mouth parted as drool slips from the corners of his lips. The Dutchman’s brow tightens with worry and he releases his chin to pull you off. But, before he can stop you, Daniel gasps out desperately.

“M’ green—please, please, Max,” Daniel nods viciously, “Green, green—one more.”

The younger man soothes Daniel with sweet words, praising and comforting him as he leans forward to pepper his lips and neck with kisses and kitten licks, pausing to motion you to continue. 

You line up Daniel’s cock easily and murmur out a ‘thank you’, before sinking down and not stopping until your ass meets his pelvis, uncaring of how he attempts to shake you off. His body is reacting in too much, but Max and you both see and hear how his brain interprets it as too good. 

You keen in pleasure but your noises are deafened by Daniel’s cries and begs for relief. Well aware that you have to get yourself off so Max can have a turn, you find that toe-curling angle with the help of Max directing your hips, holding yourself steady with one hand behind you on the bed and the other drawing rapid circles on your clit. Max moves to let you rest your back along his chest, your frizzed curls a mess as they bounce with your movements. 

The visual stimulation of Daniel in front of you moaning and heaving for more, the frantic twitching of his length inside of you, the sound of your skin slapping against his, and Max’s voice ghosting right by your ear, the ‘good girl’ that left his lips taking a second to process; all of it pushes you into the abyss. You don’t know if it’s you or Daniel that screams, your blood rushing in your ears and your vision flashing white clouds your mind as the explosion of pleasure burns your nerve endings. 

With a choked ‘fuck,’ you slump over, slipping off his twitching cock and slinking down next to Daniel as you shiver and shake through the last dregs of pleasure. Max flutters over both of you, unsure if he should keep pushing the limit, but both you and Daniel yell confirmations of “Green!” that have Max ripping off his briefs, reaching between his legs and whimpering as he carefully tugs out the plug he’s had in for the entire time.

Daniel’s eyes roll in disbelief, his brain exhausted to the point where he can’t string together any words to communicate his confusion.

Max huffs out a hysterical giggle, one hand stroking along his cock as he tosses the plug off the side of the bed. “Fuck–you were in the shower forever, Daniel. I’ve had that in for too long.”

The younger man shakes as he lowers himself on Daniel’s cock, bottoming out with a whimper as he mouths down at Daniel, “Just one more, baby, okay? Make me come, yeah?”

The older man’s moan is curdled with overstimulation, but he finds the will to get his feet underneath him and shakily thrust upwards into Max, hoping somehow that that’s enough. Max lets his head fall back in pleasure, thankful for the moving pressure of Daniel’s cock inside of him rather than the consistent annoyance of the plug holding him open. Coupled with the stretch of his rim and his hand furiously twisting along his length, Max reaches his peak quickly.

Before taking the plunge, he chokes out words of praise at Daniel and you rush to do the same, understanding that Max is attempting to push Daniel over the edge as well. You see tears of frustration build in Daniel’s eyes as he struggles to fully give in, and you fall forward to tug at his nipples with your teeth, reinvigorating Daniel’s attempts at slipping from the silk ties. At the sight, Max shouts, body tightening and then relaxing as he strokes out ribbons of cum. Daniel’s hips stutter when the first drop of cum lands on his skin and you feel his lungs halt as the strongest orgasm—most likely dry, at that—wreaks havoc upon his body.

His body goes limp underneath the two of you, and his hands droop in their binds. You speedily untie Daniel’s arms as Max slowly slips off the man’s rapidly softening length, trying to lessen any unwanted stimulation for the unaware Australian. You catch his arms before they fall against the bed, rubbing your hands against them to coax proper blood flow in them. Spent, Max stumbles to Daniel’s side, taking one arm out of your hands and matching your movements.

“Good job, liefje,” Max breathes out, smiling up at you with an exhausted smile, his hair drenched with sweat and falling in front of his eyes. You blush and kiss him sweetly, “It was your idea!”

Max shakes his head, pausing his hands to reach down and brush Daniel’s curls off his forehead, “No; you made half of the plan. So, it was our idea.”

The Australian groans, eyes fluttering open but they’re still clouded enough that you both know he’s going to need more than enough TLC tonight, “ —idea made me think i w‘sgonna die.”

Max laughs, rubbing circles around the man’s temple, “I guess we forgot to factor in your old age as a variable, didn’t we, liefje?”

Daniel’s face flutters in displeasure at being referred to as “old,” even when he’s not quite come down, “Mean, Maxy.”

You giggle, “That’s what he calls mean out of this entire experience?”

The Dutchman presses kisses to both of your foreheads before he stumbles out of bed, “I’m going to grab some fruit and cream for Daniel’s wrists. Should I grab anything else?” He directs the question to you.

Of course, the Australian jumps in before you have the chance to respond, “Lemonade, please.”

© httpsserene2024

[morganxwritess]

⋆｡°✩ 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭.

carlos sainz x leclerc!fem!reader

summary: while scrolling through insta in the middle of the night, you come across carlos’s most recent post, stirring unexpected feelings within you warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, cute fluffy smut, quickie in the middle of the night, p in v sex, slight somnophilia (barely any!) note: i love F1!!! typically, im a charles girlie, but recently carlos has had me some type of way. the photos he posted on insta before silverstone had me weak and were major inspo for this! forza ferrari sempre <3 word count: 3.0k

Mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you felt your brain slowly surrendering to the sweet embrace of sleep, which you desperately craved. Silverstone was just around the corner, promising a whirlwind of media frenzy. As a Ferrari photographer, you knew you needed every ounce of rest to capture the perfect shots. You could almost hear the roar of engines and feel the anticipation in the air, but for now, all you wanted was to drift into a deep, restorative slumber, preparing yourself to deliver your finest work under the demanding spotlight of the weekend ahead.

That is, until you stumbled upon his most recent post. 

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped slightly as you gawked at the photos from Carlos's new Instagram update. He had never looked more handsome, and that was saying something, considering you'd seen him all sweaty and shirtless post-race. The images were captivating, each one showcasing his chiseled features and smoldering charisma. Suddenly, sleep was the last thing on your mind as you stared at the screen, your heart racing as fast as the car he'd be driving at Silverstone.

Placing your phone on the bedside table of a hotel room that wasn't yours, you rolled over in bed to face the man who had stirred such excitement within you. There he was, fast asleep with one arm tucked under his head, catching the tiniest bit of drool that dribbled from his mouth. His other arm rested lazily around your hip, holding you close. A soft smile crept onto your face as you watched him, his usual polished image replaced by this endearing, unguarded moment. For a brief second, all thoughts of the upcoming weekend faded away, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the quiet comfort of being wrapped in his embrace.

As you nestled closer, your mind wandered back to the whirlwind of events that led you here, to this intimate moment in a foreign hotel room. The thrill of a race, the pressure of the media, and the electric chemistry that had sparked between you and Carlos.

You remembered the stolen glances across the paddock, the secret smiles, and the way his hand had lingered on yours just a little too long when passing a camera. Tonight had been different though, tonight had felt almost natural, like a routine. You had booked a room on the same floor as his, waited until you knew Charles was either asleep or preoccupied, and then you had joined him, planning on staying there until the morning.

You would slip out before your brother noticed you were missing and with his teammate. It was a risky game you played, but the thrill of it only added to the intensity of your connection with Carlos. You could almost hear Charles’s voice in your head, cautioning you about the complications of mixing personal and professional lives, but at this moment, those warnings seemed distant and insignificant.

"Carlos?" you whispered, trying to gain his attention, but the large man enveloping you in his arms did not move an inch. You gently shook his shoulder, hoping to rouse him without causing too much disturbance.

"Carlos," you repeated, a bit louder this time. He stirred slightly, his grip around your waist tightening, but still he remained asleep.

Too impatient to wait for him to wake up, and knowing this would be the perfect medicine to get you to sleep, you began slowly kissing up his bare chest. Your lips brushed against his warm skin, planting gentle kisses as you made your way upward, feeling his muscles react to your touch. You slowly made your way up his neck and to his jaw, kissing and biting down softly against the spot you knew drove him mad. A low, soft groan escaped his mouth, encouraging your movements. His breathing grew heavier as your lips continued their teasing path, each kiss and nip igniting a spark of desire.

"Carlos," you whispered against his skin, your voice barely audible but filled with longing. He shifted slightly, his grip on your waist tightening as he began to wake.

"You're relentless, mi corazón," he murmured, his voice a mix of amusement and arousal. His eyes flickered open, dark and intense, meeting yours with a smoldering gaze.

"And you love it," you teased, your lips brushing against his ear. He responded with a deeper groan, his hand moving up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

"You're right," he admitted, his voice husky. "I do."

You smiled, feeling a rush of satisfaction as you continued your ministrations, your kisses growing more insistent. His reactions spurred you on, his body responding to every touch, every kiss. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this stolen moment of intimacy.

"You're going to drive me crazy," he whispered, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. His hands roamed over your body, drawing you even closer, “What has made you so needy? Were the three orgasms earlier not enough?”

“You,” you gasped as he shifted you so you were sitting on top of his hard erection. He pulled you down, devouring your lips with his own, your tongues battling for dominance. You pulled away, your breath coming in soft pants, and admitted, “I saw your new Instagram post. The one of you in the blue.”

One of his dark, thick eyebrows skyrockets in amusement. "Mi corazón, you took those photos."

"I know," you replied, a hint of sheepishness in your voice, "But I didn’t edit them or really look at them much after I sent them to your team. I didn’t realize how sexy you looked in them, or I would’ve kept them for myself."

He chuckled softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your hips. "You know you'll always have me all to yourself. Besides, the world may have seen those pictures, but they didn't see what happened after."

His voice held a hint of playful mischief, and you couldn't help but smile at his teasing tone. "And what did happen after?" you asked, your voice filled with mock curiosity, pretending to forget that unforgettable night.

"Well, if you forgot, maybe I should remind you," he stated, diving in to capture your lips again. His kiss was passionate and insistent, rekindling the fire of that unforgettable night.

You sat on his lap as he devoured your lips with his own. Getting lost in the sensation, you began rocking against him, your movements slow and deliberate. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Each kiss deepened, growing more fervent as your bodies moved in sync, the intensity of the moment overwhelming your senses.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel the intensity between you both growing, making it impossible to think about anything else. Carlos's hands roamed your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Your breaths mingled, the room filled with the sound of your shared passion.

His lips left yours, trailing down your neck, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. "You are so beautiful, mi corazón," he murmured against your collarbone, his voice a rough whisper.

"Don’t stop," you replied, your own voice breathless and filled with desire.

His hands moved lower, slipping beneath your shirt, which actually belonged to him, caressing the bare skin of your back. You arched into his touch, your head falling back as he continued to explore your body with his mouth and hands. Time seemed to blur as you lost yourselves in each other. The worries of the outside world faded away, replaced by the overwhelming need to be together, to savor every moment. 

Carlos shifted slightly, laying you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours. His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto yours, silently asking for permission. You nodded, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him down to meet you in another searing kiss.

In that moment, nothing else existed but the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms, lost in the passion and connection that only seemed to grow stronger with every touch, every kiss.

You reached for his tight boxers that hugged his hips and showcased every inch of him, pulling them down to let his large length spring free. He helped, pushing them down the rest of the way until they fell off his legs, never moving his lips from yours for a moment.

His hands returned to your hips, gripping you firmly as he deepened the kiss, his need for you evident in every touch. Your own hands explored the newly exposed skin, reveling in the heat and strength of his body.

Too impatient to wait for another moment, Carlos grabbed the red lace underwear that covered what was his and ripped it down the middle, exposing your most intimate area.

"I liked that pair," you pouted, objecting breathlessly.

"I'll buy you ten more just like it," he growled, his voice filled with raw desire. "Whatever you want. I just have to have you."

His urgency was contagious, sending a thrill through your body. Before you could respond, he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locked onto yours with a fierce intensity.

In one swift motion, he thrust into you, filling you completely. The sensation was electric, and you gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders. He paused for a moment, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily.

Then he began to move, his rhythm relentless and demanding, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. His hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly as he drove deeper, his need for you palpable in every motion.

Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the room filled with the sounds of your shared passion. You could feel the tension building, the pressure mounting with each powerful thrust. Carlos's lips found yours again, his kiss searing and desperate, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

"You're mine," he murmured against your lips, his voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

"Yes," you gasped, your own need spiraling out of control. "All yours."

As the pace quickened, you felt the familiar build of ecstasy, your body tensing in anticipation. Carlos's movements grew more urgent, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered sweet nothings in Spanish, the sound of his voice pushing you closer to the brink.

With a final, powerful thrust, you both tumbled over the edge, lost in the waves of pleasure that crashed over you. Your cries of ecstasy mingled, echoing in the room as you clung to each other, riding out the intense high together.

Afterwards, you collapsed against him, your bodies entwined, hearts pounding in unison. Carlos's breath was hot against your skin as you both lay there, basking in the aftermath of your passion. The soft glow of the moonlight light filtered through the curtains, casting a small shadow over the room, making everything feel warm and surreal.

Carlos gently stroked your hair, his touch tender and soothing. "I could stay like this forever," he whispered, his voice filled with contentment.

You smiled, nuzzling closer to him. "Me too."

As you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the reality of your situation began to creep back in. The world outside was waiting, with its demands and expectations. But in this moment, you were just two people, lost in each other, savoring the connection you had found.

"Do you think Charles suspects anything?" you asked, a hint of worry creeping into your voice.

Carlos chuckled softly, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your back. "If he does, he hasn't said anything. But we should be careful. For now, let's just enjoy this."

You nodded, your worries momentarily pushed aside. "Agreed."

The rest of the night drifted by in a haze of shared touches and whispered words. Eventually, the warmth and comfort of Carlos's embrace lulled you both into a peaceful sleep. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving just the two of you in your bubble of blissful contentment.

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

You were jolted awake by the insistent pounding on the hotel room door. Groggy and disoriented, you glanced at the clock on the bedside table, realizing with a start that you had overslept. Carlos stirred beside you, muttering something under his breath as he tried to wake up.

The pounding continued, accompanied by a familiar voice calling out, "Carlos? Are you in there? We need to get going!"

Your heart leaped into your throat as you recognized Charles's voice. Panic set in as you quickly disentangled yourself from Carlos and scrambled to find your clothes.

"Carlos, wake up!" you whispered urgently, shaking him awake. "It's Charles! He's at the door!"

Carlos's eyes flew open, and he quickly assessed the situation. "Mierda" he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

You both moved quickly, trying to make the room look as if nothing had happened. You carefully slipped into the bathroom to hide, your heart pounding in your chest. Carlos pulled on his boxers and a pair of jeans, trying to appear as casual as possible.

The pounding on the door grew louder. "Carlos, come on! We need to leave now!"

Carlos took a deep breath and opened the door, blocking Charles's view of the room. "Sorry, I overslept. Give me a minute to get ready."

Charles looked past Carlos into the room, suspicion etched on his face. "Is someone else in there?"

Carlos's heart raced, but he maintained his composure. "No, just me. I had a rough night and crashed hard."

Charles raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well, hurry up. We're on a tight schedule. I’m going to wait in the car." He turned on his heel and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Carlos let out a sigh of relief, running a hand through his tousled hair. "That was too close," he muttered, glancing over at you with a wry smile.

You couldn't help but chuckle, the adrenaline of the close call making your heart race. "Yeah, no kidding. We better get moving."

Quickly, you both scrambled around the room and started getting dressed, the urgency of the situation replacing the earlier tenderness. Carlos handed you your clothes, a playful glint in his eye despite the circumstances.

"You owe me a new pair of underwear," you teased, taking off his shirt and slipping on your own.

"I told you I'll buy you ten more," he promised, leaning in for a quick, stolen kiss. "But right now, we need to get out of here."

You both hurriedly finished dressing, the thought of Charles waiting in the car for you both spurring you on. As you grabbed your things, you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all – sneaking around, stolen moments, and now this mad dash to avoid your brother's suspicion.

Carlos opened the door, peeking out to make sure the coast was clear. "All set?"

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Let's go."

Together, you made your way down the hallway, the echoes of your footsteps blending with the thudding of your heart. The thrill of the secret, the rush of almost being caught, it all added to the intensity of your relationship with Carlos.

As you reached the lobby, you saw Charles waiting near the exit, his impatient figure visible from a mile away. Carlos gave your hand a quick squeeze before you both stepped out, trying to act casual.

Charles glanced up as you approached, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I’ve been calling you, Y/N. Why didn’t you pick up?"

“Phone died, and I forgot a charger.” You lied, seamlessly as you followed your brother out of the hotel and onto the street where a car was waiting for you.

You slid into the backseat next to Charles, Carlos taking the passenger seat up front next to the driver. As the car pulled away, you caught Carlos's eye in the rearview mirror. He winked at you, a silent promise of more stolen moments to come.

Attempting to hide your blush, you looked down at your lap and opened your phone, forgetting the lie you had just told Charles. When the screen lit up, the first thing you saw were the photos that had caused the delay—Carlos in that striking blue button-up. You couldn't help but hide your smile with a smirk, quickly turning your phone over to keep your emotions in check.

"I thought you just said your phone was dead?" Charles asked, his confusion evident.

Carlos snickered in the front seat, clearly enjoying your predicament. You stuttered out, "Maybe I was just ignoring you."

Charles raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and Carlos. "Right. Well, let's just focus on getting to the track on time."

You nodded, grateful that he didn't press the issue further. The rest of the drive was filled with a tense silence, the only sounds being the hum of the engine and the occasional comment from Charles about the schedule for the day.

Carlos occasionally glanced back at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. You could feel your blush deepening, but you managed to keep your composure. The memory of the night’s events and the photos on your phone lingered in your mind, adding a secret thrill to the day ahead.

As you pulled up to the track, the familiar roar of engines and the buzz of activity greeted you. The tension from the morning began to dissipate, replaced by the excitement of the race weekend. The driver parked the car, and you all climbed out, ready to dive into the day's work.

Carlos leaned in close as you walked toward the paddock, his voice low and teasing. "Try not to get too distracted, mi corazón. We've got a busy day ahead."

You shot him a playful glare, but couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. "You too, mon ange. Focus on the race."

He grinned, giving you a quick nod before heading off in his own direction. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the day ahead. Despite the early morning chaos, you felt a renewed sense of energy and determination. This race weekend was going to be unforgettable, both on and off the track.

[sc0tters]

Betting On Brats | Nico Hischier

summary: when you decide to give Nico a taste of his own medicine it seems you two can only go so far.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v (unprotected), swearing, oral (fem receiving!), slight degradation, porn with post plot?

word count: 4.37k

authors note: I really don’t know when it was that I last released something so let’s not ask @heavenlyhischier how long this idea has been swirling around… but long story short Abby posted something with Nico in his car and I was like the car sex request was music to my ears. I actually love elements of this so I’m hoping it gets picked up by y’all too. Here’s to us getting more updates soon!

You were playing with fire.

From the moment you stepped into the venue, the smirk on your face should have given it away that you were ready to ruffle some feathers. Except it all started and ended with your fiancé and how he didn’t seem to care for the fact that you disliked your neighbour.

Mackenzie could have been the nicest person in the world, but that didn’t matter to you whilst she felt the need to flirt with Nico.

You swore things were going to be different when you came home with the giant rock on your hand. Yet your hopefulness quickly ran out when you saw her talking with him.

It was any old Monday as when you came back from Pilates, ready to tell Nico all about your day and how the Slovakian lady who owned a bakery left you with more baked goods for him to try “thanks for helping.” The voice made you freeze.

Mackenzie’s voice was like chalk against a board as she twirled her hair through her fingers “yeah our sink had that problem last week.” Nico nodded along as he clutched to the tool bag you got him months back.

You froze seeing Mackenzie in her pj shorts and a little vest. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she practically flashed her tits in his face “Hischier I’m going to shower if you want to join.” Your words came in a grumble as you shoved your shoulder into his.

It threw both of them off “we were in the middle of a conversation.” Mackenzie shot back as you scoffed.

Usually the sight of you all sweaty in your leggings and tight tops was enough to make Nico weak in the knees “I’ll be back in a sec okay schatzi?” He squeezed your hand but still that made you just roll your eyes as you pulled your hand back and left to the apartment.

That was four days ago and your comments to him have been with minimal contact. Nico noticed of course but he didn’t have the time to call you out on it with the start of the season quickly approaching.

It was what brought you both to today, the welcoming dinner for the returning and new players alongside their partners and it was your third season planning the event “schatzi please can we act-” Nico began as he went to squeeze your hand “Timo!” Your cheer cut him off as you saw the older boy smile at you.

Throughout your relationship with Nico you had gotten the chance to get close to Timo, and after convincing him to teach you Swiss phrases to then say back to Nico who of course was in awe of the gesture. After that you quickly found the boy turning into your friend as he now saw you like his American sister “you two still at it?” Timo smirked as he pulled you into a side hug.

Your sigh seemed to tell him all that he needed to know as he cracked a grin “knew you were wearing this for a reason.” It was a red sundress that Nico adored on you with the little slit that sat midway up your thigh that you paired with a white pair of heels.

Each time you wore it Nico seemed to end up pulling you into a room before the end of the night. So having it in place where he wasn’t allowed to touch you, was bound to be torture “it’s all just for a little bit of fun.” You smirked as you shrugged doing your best to ignore how Nico’s eyes glared at sight.

Timo simply nodded “is it still that Mackenzie girl?” The name made you scowl “if Nico could realise that she’s flirting with him then all of this could be avoided!” You wanted to pull your hair out at the idea of his constant disagreement of Mackenzie trying to do any bad in this world.

It made the older boy feel sorry for you “look maybe I can help you.” His offer was quick to make you raise your eyebrows in anticipation “since you want to get him jealous, why not stand with me.” The idea was perfect.

You were in your dangerous dress, Timo and you actually had a lot to talk about with the need to catch up, and if all went well Nico would get a taste of his own medicine. It almost made you mad that it wasn’t you who came up with it as you nodded “I owe you.” You added shaking his hand, leaving Nico confused at what was causing the smirks on your faces.

The questions only seemed to grow as Nico offered you the seat next to him - your normal seat - but instead you opted for the one across from the captain, right next to Timo “schatzi?” Nico did little to hide his confusion as sure he knew you were mad but he didn’t think that you were going to be that mad.

Instead you just offered him a smile “figured you’d want to see with Jacky boy no?” Your hand pointed to the boy who took your normal seat “yeah cap she got you all summer.” Jack matched your tone as he sent you a toothy grin paired with a wink.

Throughout that dinner Nico swore he was going to kill Timo and honestly Jack too. It seemed the American only loved to start talking when you were whispering things into Timo’s ear. All of the things had to do with random questions but the way it made Nico’s eyes burn into your soul left you feeling more alive than ever.

Nico was close to breaking his glass as he watched Timo help you push your hair out of your face as the freshly curled locks weren’t paired with a hair tie tonight “you’re so good t’me Timo.” You cooed sending him a smile as you sipped at your drink “Nico you good dude?” John was sat on the other side of the boy and felt how his body tensed.

It took the American a snap of his fingers to break Nicos gaze “yeah I’m fine.” Through gritted teeth you figured you had done enough for now to make him jealous “yeah baby you’re not looking too hot.” You turned your attention back to your boyfriend and that seemed to be the longest sentence you had give him in days.

Nico grew surprised but when your heel began to rub up the inside of his leg “schatzi I am good.” His voice came with a warning and a cough not sure how much more of your teasing he could truly handle from you.

You instead just smiled as you nodded dropping your foot to go back to your dinner letting the night go by quietly. Still you never gave Nico the satisfaction of standing in a conversation alone with him as Timo seemed to be attached to your hip, making the captain more irritated by the second “look dude I don’t know what you did-” Johns words practically dug his grave for him “what makes you think I did it?” Nicos head snapped in the curly haired boys direction as his eyes sharpened.

John felt his mouth go dry “well she’s kind of spent more time with Timo than she has with you.”John was scared his comment would get him into trouble as his body shrunk in front of the boy.

Nico went to respond but when your hand raked over Timo’s shoulder it practically cut him off “I’m going to kill him.” His voice was rough as his hands clenched making his knuckles grow white “hey now we cannot have the start of the season be tied to our captain being a murderer.” John stopped the captain from moving.

The Swiss man knew he was right but somehow that didn’t make him feel any better “she is just doing this all to piss you off.” It was the truth. You were desperate for Nico to feel how you felt about Mackenzie and you had done only an ounce of what she did.

When you touched Timo’s shoulder it had been to flick a leaf from it. Whilst you wanted Nico to feel your pain, not even your own stubbornness would bring you to inflict those emotions on him. You also wouldn’t think to do that with Timo, yet still you were too proud to let Nico see how you constantly watching him as you hoped that he would care enough to be a little jealous.

Your wishes quickly came to fruition when Jack finally ran out of things to say to Nico and Luke’s whines of boredom got too much for the middle Hughes boy. As the Hughes boys were no longer in eyesight, Nico turned his attention to where you and Timo stood giggling as you sipped your wine.

He didn’t hesitate as he made a beeline for you both, not uttering a word as he swooped down to grab you by your knees so he could throw you over his shoulder “have a good night you two.” Timo couldn’t help but laugh knowing the that your salute and his captains not so subtle middle finger basically said the same thing as one another, the end goal of the night was reached.

Nico didn’t let you go until he got to the door of the restaurant “I wasn’t ready to go.” Your voice was a mumble that made him scoff as he continued to walk now with his hand gripping yours “when you are acting like a fucking slut flirting with my friends, I think you’re ready to go.” Nico shot back not bothering to look back at you as your lips pursed together feeling the pain form in your wrist.

His comment seemed to trigger something within you as you scoffed “maybe it’s a shame that she wasn’t here because then you wouldn’t give a damn what I did.” Your comment struck him in a way that most words wouldn’t. All of this came down to jealousy and as he shut your door it seemed that part of it could have fizzled down to the fact that you didn’t feel heard.

Nico thought that leaving the environment would have been enough but your silence only reminded him more of his much you seemed to enjoy talking to Timo “cat got your tongue schatzi?” Nico’s words had a hint of annoyance that only you could pick up on.

You turned to him with a glare “surely you can’t be thick enough to not see why I’m mad?” Your teeth bit down on the inside of your cheek.

The timing of the comment was against you as the car came to a red light giving him the chance to fully focus on you “you let her flirt with you and get it to a point where I’m uncomfortable and somehow I’m the fucking bitch!” It was clear you were hurt as Nico’s consistent effort to ignore your complaints stung “at least I’m not flirting with your best friend.” If Nico didn’t notice that you were pissed off he was sure to notice it now.

A laugh left your lips like you couldn’t believe that this was reality “Timo at least gives a shit about what I think.” As your words oozed from your lips Nico clenched at his hands around the steering wheel.

The commentary struck a nerve “you need to watch it schatzi.” His tone was cold “or else what?” Your tongue clicked as you waited to hear him throw back some lousy argument.

But instead you got something so much heavier “if I have to pull this car over you will not be able to walk for a week.” His threat made you want to squirm but your strength stopped you “is that meant to make me scared?” Your ego was always going to get you in trouble.

And as you watched Nico pull the car into a semi secluded area that was made all that much more private by the darkened skies “w-what are we-” you had never seen Nico do this, the only place you two had been together was in your room “you wanted to see me fuck you in the back so get in the back.” Nico’s expression was flat as he turned the car off.

As he went to undo his seatbelt you realised that he was indeed serious so this time you opted to listen, sliding into the back seat as you realised he had gotten out of the car. Nico didn’t take long however, as the next you saw of him was now from the back door as he did his best to find a comfortable position whilst the doors locked around you both “we could have gone home and had a nice night schatzi.” Nico sighed as he let his lips hover over yours.

His hands traveled up your waist over the fabric of your dress “would have bent you over in this pretty fucking dress that I love so much.” The captain muttered along to himself as his breath fanned against her skin.

You whimpered trying to force your body closer to his touch “uh huh baby.” Nico clicked his tongue as his hands tugged at your dress forcing it over your stomach “hold it.” He ordered as he sent you a look that told you he was serious.

His usually soft fingers felt rough as he tugged at your panties pulling them down your legs before he shoved them into his pants pocket “want you to spread these.” Nico patted your thighs as he helped you lift your legs up resting your feet against the passenger headrest and your current seats.

Your cunt still glistened even in the darker area “did Timo make you this wet?” Nicos question taunted you when his index finger ran up your slit “fuck no.” You whimpered as you shook your head.

Even as he pushed you to your most irritated , it was always Nico you thought of when your hands dropped between your thighs “oh look, your brain does still work.” The hockey player didn’t give you a chance to respond as his lips pressed a kiss on your clit “fuck Nico.”

Your hand traveled to his hair, fearing that he’d leave if you didn’t “always my pretty pretty girl.” Nico cooed as he slowly thrusted his fingers into your cunt.

In response your stomach tensed feeling his beard rake against the inside of your thigh “please.” Your voice was needy as his pace was painfully slow “please what?” His lips dropped from your clit with a pop.

Your lips rubbed together as your waterline was soaked in tears “please cap.” You begged arching your back against the door.

Your cunt was weeping as it called for his attention “such a well behaved girl.” Nico smirked as he went back to what he was doing. His fingers were long as they thrusted into your core “and to think you were trying to be such a brat.” The captain clicked his tongue as he laughs vibrated through your body.

It didn’t take him long to settle back into his motions lapping at your clit as he eyes watched you chew at your lower lip “you’re so pretty.” You whined feeling his gaze burn into your skin.

His fingers were calloused from the large amount of weight lifting that he had done in preparation for the season, you felt every detail as the gummy walls of your cunt clenched around him. Nico found the perfect balance between licking and thrusting his fingers that held you back from cumming.

He would graze your g-spot without letting you enjoy it for long enough.

He hid his smirk as your thighs began to shake “fuck Nico.” Your moans were brought on with a tug at his hair as your stomach began to tighten.

You drove your hips closer to him “fuck Nico ‘m close.” Your eyes screwed shut letting your pent up frustration bubble over as your fingers weren’t doing enough for you.

Nico always knew how to lull you into your orgasms so when you felt his fingers drop from your cunt your mouth fell open “you really think I was gonna let you cum?” He laughed as he pressed his lips against your thigh.

You couldn’t help but huff “you wanted to be a brat and not get treated like one?” Nico taunted you as he rolled his eyes sitting up straight “you know you gotta answer when I talk to you sweet girl.” The hockey player pointed out as you looked to your thigh where his hand sat.

A gulp echoed from your throat “why do you let her flirt with you?” The question was vulnerable as if your heart wasn’t ready for the answer even as your mind was “because I don’t care for it.” It was Nicos usual answer and it made you feel like everything you had done tonight crumbled beneath you.

He too noticed your disappointed state when he hooked his fingers under your chin “not when I’ve got my girl.” He explained using his other hand to pull you onto his lap “and what’s so special about her?” You failed to hide your blush as you chewed at the inside of your cheek.

Nico nodded as he brought his hands down to your legs “well she’s got a smoking body.” His words made you laugh as you toyed with the buttons on his shirt “just a good body?” Your fingers made light work of revealing the skin of his chest.

The boy placed a kiss on your shoulder “sometimes she knows how to behave too.” He smirked as your jaw dropped letting your mouth fall agape “well we both know you prefer when I act like a brat.” You shot back petting your hand travel to his belt.

The increased pressure made Nicos breathing grow unsteady “so you admit you were being a brat?” The air around you both grew hot as he clicked his tongue doing as much as he could to hide his reaction to your hand fiddling with his boxers.

A smile formed on your lips as you pulled his cock out from above the waistband “well I don’t think a brat would willingly fuck you.” You pressed a kiss against the shell of Nicos ear as his fingers dug into your skin.

You squeezed your thighs around his leg “yeah well you’re still my needy fucking slut.” Nico reminded you as he arched his back trying to push into the pleasure he felt as you met his movements with pulling away.

His gaze sharpened as he scoffed “who’s the needy slut now.” You smirked running your fingers through his hair, softly tugging at the roots in the process “schatzi you better watch it.” The hockey player warned as his hand cupped your ass cheek.

You grinned as you let your hips drop so that his cocks head could graze your clit “know that you’re too horny to leave me here.” You hissed as the sensations shot through your body “just fucking sit on my cock.” He ordered and as his eyes practically burned into your skin.

The air around you both grew tense as you let your cunt sink around his cock “fuck Neeks.” Your forehead pressed against his as you took a chance to adjust around him.

His eyes stared into yours when his hands settled on your ass “I’ve got you.” His voice was soft as he dropped his head to kiss at your collarbone.

You whimpered at the feeling, finally rocking your hips as you revelled in his attention “don’t like you in all this.” You mumbled fisting your hands at his jacket “can say the same for you schatzi.” Nico clicked his tongue as his eyes toyed over the breast line of your dress.

It gave you the confidence to begin moving a little bit faster as you propped yourself up in a way that left you almost bouncing on his cock “then do something about it.” You whined as his hands wrapped around to slap your ass.

The skin was left red but you didn’t seem to care as you continued to swirl your hips, letting your core feel every inch of him “maybe I will.” The hockey player let his fingers harshly tug at the fabric, damaging the straps in the process “Nico!” Your whine echoed through the car as the boy smirked.

Nico always did adore this sight as your now free breasts bounced with every thrust of his cock since he made his hips meet yours. He was grateful for the fact that, you hated wearing bras in these dresses because now he had one less piece of clothing to get rid of.

His laugh pulled you away from the pleasure that was building up in your stomach “much better.” He clicked his tongue before he lowered his lips to your peaked skin.

A wonton moan left your lips as his tongue swirled around your skin “fuck Nico.” You gasped letting your hand tug at the hair on the nape of his neck.

You forgot how much you missed getting Nico like this, the power you had being on top of him was your favourite since he so clearly worshipped your every being“all you had to do was ask for this doll.” Nico murmured pressing a kiss against your skin as he switched to the other breast.

Now you were far too gone letting your hand drop to your clit craving the fucked out bliss you sought “‘m sorry.” You huffed catching your lower lip between your teeth.

It made the boy grunt against your skin as your cunt clenched around him “what was that schatzi?” His lips left your nipple with a pop bringing a line of saliva with his mouth, causing your eyes to screw shut.

Your silence made the sound of his breath and his skin slapping against yours when he drove his hips up echo in your ears “I couldn’t hear you slut.” Nicos voice got deeper as he softly hit your hand away, replacing his calloused fingers on your clit.

The action cause a long moan to leave your lips “please Nico.” You whined pressing your hand against his chest causing the cold metal of your ring to cool his skin.

As he looked down being reminded of the sizeable diamond that sat on your engagement ring, he swore he could have cum on the spot “you know that’s not the right words schatzi.” His softer words could have given you whiplash “I’m sorry okay!” You grumbled growing frustrated as you swore that every bit of strength you once had as you planned your night had vanished.

His thumb pressed into your clit in response “now that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Nicos pace increased as he rubbed your sensitive bud craving his orgasm yet refused to cum first.

Your eyes began to flutter as he watched you do little to hide the fact that you were close “wanna go make a mess on my cock?” He added cooing in your ear as you nodded “wanna baby neeks.” You confessed feeling your walls burn as they trapped his cock within them.

If Nico had been dreaming he didn’t care because that made his pace turn animalistic as his free hand pinched at your hip “can’t wait to see these fucking tits grow so full.” Nico barked his desires at you and it was finally too much as your body began to shake “Jesus neeks.” You cried as your cunt clenched around him when you collapsed into his chest.

With a few more pumps of his cock and a soft “fucking hell.” His release spurted from his tip and coaxed your walls.

A flurry of whimpers flew from your lips as you felt him continue to slowly thrust into you “just making sure you don’t lose any of it schatzi.” Nico softy laughed as he kissed your forehead seeing your breathing slow “I love you.” The whisper was so quiet that if you weren’t looking up at him the words would have been lost in the leather of his seats.

In that moment he swore it was just you two and the gentle hymn of the engine “I love you too.” He let out a soft sigh running his fingers over your skin in random figures “and I’m sorry that I haven’t done a good job showing that.” Nico added causing you to nod as he tucked his hair behind his ear.

You softly smiled as you had enough energy to sit up straight “really?” You cocked your head blissfully unaware of what the night would hold.

It was as if Nico was going to cement the thoughts in your brain as he pushed any doubts away “you think you can give me one more?” You were now in your bed with your legs over his shoulders “fuck no.” You gasped seeing his face push out from the sheets.

The sun now started creeping up through the gaps in the curtains “ain’t that a shame.” Nico let out an exasperated huff as he pushed up to hover over you.

Your body was tired as you hadn’t stopped feeling his pleasure since you arrived “you’re so pretty.” Your voice was soft as you kissed his lips pulling the sheet over you both once you used what little strength you could find to flip the two of you over.

It was funny that after that night you two didn’t see a lot more of Mackenzie, in fact she seemed to move out “isn’t Micheal so sweet?” You giggled to yourself cupping your now quickly forming baby belly as you stared at the basket of baked goods in front of you.

Nico swore it was the universe coming back to laugh at him mocking what happened all but four months ago. Oh how he was going to grow relieved on the day when he learnt that it was in fact he who Micheal had a crush on, not you.

[jazzyoranges]

Can you write a friends with benefits situation Wednesday or Tara has with gp reader? Wednesday or Tara enforces a no strings attach policy but of course reader has to catch feelings and admits their feelings. It freaks Tara/wednesday and causes her to push them away and ghost them effectively hurting the reader who after a while tries to rebound with another girl causing major jealousy from Tara/Wednesday. You can choose the ending I just wanna see some jealous smut and angst mix in there 😩

She’s my Collar

Wednesday Addams x fem!werewolf!reader

Words: 4.6k (whoopsies)

Warnings: gp!reader, definitely ooc Wednesday, heat cycles, unprotected sex, knotting, explicit smut, everyone is 18+, Wednesday calls you a mutt and a puppy, breeding kink, is it really pet play if you’re actually a pet?, italian/spanish pet names and phrases, possessive Wednesday, fluff, angst i think

A/n: so sorry it took so long for me to write this anon who requested 😓 could be read as a prequel to this fic, but not specifically written as one. also i kinda strayed away from the original request, sorry about that too 😭🫶

MINORS DNI!

Wednesday didn’t want to admit it, but she was feeling a certain emotion that was completely undesirable. You’ve been out sick for an entire week. Wednesday hadn’t seen you in the last 8 days, 17 hours, and 42 minutes. But who was counting? Definitely not the Addams girl

Others would say Wednesday looked the same as any other week, but Enid’s roommate senses were tingling. Constantly fiddling with her rings, the very prominent scowl on her face that was meaner than usual, and the common frustrated grunts when Wednesday would make a mistake with her writing. Something was up, and not even god herself couldn’t stop Enid from figuring it out

While Wednesday was smart in every aspect except social, Enid’s people smarts came in useful every now and again. It really didn’t take long for her to piece two and two together. Angry roommate while someone she frequently hung out with was out sick? It was child’s play, really. All she needed to do was have Wednesday come to the same conclusion as her

Easier said that done, really. Wednesday was a knucklehead not so smart when it came to emotions. Any emotion other than creating despair, Wednesday struggled with. Luckily Enid was dedicated and also a knucklehead

Currently Wednesday was seated at her desk, simply staring at a blank piece of paper without moving. On any normal day her fingers would be speeding across the typewriter with ideas constantly coming to her. Now she was met with absolute digital silence from her mind, which proved to be discouraging and inconvenient to say the least

“Alright, Wednesday. What’s going on?”

“I have not a clue what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been different this entire week. Spill the beans”

“As I’ve just said, I don’t have the information you want.”

“It’s because you haven’t seen her all week, right? You miss her, don’t you?”

“Why would I miss that mutt of a werewolf? I do not miss Y/n.”

“I never said her name, yet you know exactly who I’m talking about. Funny how that works, Wednesday” Enid teases. Her roomie has been caught red handed

“If you want your tongue, I’d recommend you stop talking.”

“Cmon, Wednesday, I’m being serious. It’s not weird to miss a friend. How about you check up on her?”

“First, I do not miss her. Second, she is definitely fine. I do not need to check up on her.”

“She’s been out sick for an entire week. She texted me just today the sickness isn’t showing any signs of stopping”

“Why has she not called the nurse, then?”

“She told me they ran out of the medicine she needs. The sickness is werewolf specific. I’ve gotten it before and it hurt like a bitch without medicine”

“What kind of school clinic runs out of medicine?” Wednesday says under her breath while getting up. Presumably to check on you, Enid assumes

“It’s really high in demand right now. It only infects werewolves, so you won’t catch it”

“I suppose I’ll ask Y/n on the specifics of her current condition. Perhaps it could be a part in my writings.”

“I’m sure it will be, Wednesday. Tell me how it goes!” Enid waves goodbye to Wednesday as she exits, and the Addams misses her roommates wolfish grin

Luckily your dorm isn’t too far away from Ophelia hall but it’s still a considerable walk to and from. The walk there gives Wednesday enough time to really question why she was doing this. She did not care for you, that was most definitely certain. At least that’s what Wednesday kept telling herself when she neared your room

The Addams girl hesitated before she knocked on your door. She could hear you whimpering and whining in pain, your tail quickly thumping against your bed. The shorter girl bit the bullet and held her fist against the door, quickly knocking on it

“Open up, Y/n or I’ll be forced to axe down your door.”

“Go away, Wednesday” Your voice was muffled

“Either I pick your lock or you open this door. Make your decision.”

Wednesday hears your feel shuffle to the door, and you open it just enough for your eye to peek out. Wednesday immediately notices your flushed skin and dark eye bags. You’re only wearing a tank top and boxers, trying to hide your lower body behind the door

“What do you want?” You spit out a bit more aggressively than you mean to

“I’ve come to check up on your illness”

“I’m uh- I’m okay. You can go now, Wednesday”

“You obviously aren’t, you haven’t gone to your classes all week.”

“Listen, I’m not actually sick. If I tell you what’s actually happening, promise you won’t freak out?”

“I promise.”

You suck in a breath to calm your nerves. “I’m in heat. The school clinic ran out of suppressants, so I haven’t been able to come to classes”

Wednesday looked you up and down, and in a split second she felt something she hadn’t before. Something about how your wolfish features came out. Ears were pressed against your head, tail hung low and swaying softly, and Wednesday noticed your fangs poke out when you spoke

“Let me help you.”

“W-What?” You momentarily stoped holding the door, and Wednesday let herself inside. Wednesday was immediately hit with a musk that was so… you. Werewolves weren’t her major, but she could tell you’ve marked your entire room with your own scent. Something about it made Wednesday’s mind think of all the unspeakable things she wanted to do to you

“Uh, sorry for the mess. And sorry for the smell, I know it’s bad…” You shift on your feet, and it’s only then Wednesday notices the tent in your boxers. Quickly mumbling out apology after apology, you move your tail so it covers your growing erection

“Stop apologizing, it’s getting quite annoying. I said I’d help you, did I not?”

“Help me like..?”

“Yes. Help you as in having sexual intercourse”

Your cheeks flush red and you have to actively stop your tail from wagging in excitement. Wednesday takes a step closer, but you take a step back

“A-Are you sure? You’re human, and I’m a werewolf. Your body isn’t designed to handle our heats”

Wednesday takes another step closer to you, grabbing your neck to make you look straight in her eyes. You can’t stop the whimper that escapes your throat

“I decide what I can handle.” The shorter girl firmly gropes at your clothed erection, and you moan at the contact

“Wednesday, I-”

“A dumb puppy is what you are. Why didn’t you tell me you were in heat?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t think you’d care” When Wednesday starts to massage your clothed cock more roughly, she earns another moan out of your throat

“Please, please make it better, Wednesday. It hurts so fucking much” You whimper, and Wednesday wonders if you’d look good in a collar with her name on it. She’d have to save that idea for a different day.

“Puppy.”

“Wednesday?”

“Take everything off. I want to see all of you.”

Wordlessly, you start to strip, which doesn’t take long since you’re barely wearing any clothes. Your mindless obedience made Wednesday happy. You start with your tank top and the Addams chooses to observe every part of you. Wednesday notices you’re considerably more furry than usual, your happy trail showing just above your boxer briefs

“Are you sure?” You ask nervously when you reach your boxers, and Wednesday is getting considerably more impatient

“Do I have to do everything for you?” Wednesday mutters while she takes off your boxers instead. The shorter girl sucks in a breath when your hardened cock slaps against your stomach

Wednesday didn’t expect you to be so… lewdly big. Looking at the size of your erection only reminded her your body was meant to breed. You were designed to reproduce, and the thought turned Wednesday on more than she liked

The shorter girl pushes you onto your bed, and she takes a second to look at the state you’re in

“Please, Wednesday…” You whine

“Be patient, Y/n. You’ll get there eventually”

“It hurts so much, please I can’t wait” Begging harder, Wednesday doesn’t likehow her first instinct is to give you what you want

“You’re lucky I tolerate you. If you were any other person, I’d think this was dehumanizing.” She pushes you further back, licking a stripe up your tip and across a vein. You have to stop yourself from cumming embarrassingly quick

Wednesday keeps giving your shaft long kitten-licks and you’re in heaven when she finally decides to suck your tip with a new type of hunger.

And due to previous attempts at suppressing your heat by yourself, your cock was absolutely raw at how much you masturbated. It only made Wednesday’s tongue feel even better

She hollows out her cheeks, making your tip hit the back of her throat. This earns a groan from the back of your throat. You didn’t know if touching was allowed due to her track record of broken arms and hands, so you decide to play it safe by just holding onto your bedsheets for dear life

“F-Fuck, I’m about to-“ Before you can finish your sentence, Wednesday pulls away from your cock. The look on your face is something Wednesday would like to cherish. Your penis was twitching like crazy. It was drooling with pre-cum and the shorter girls saliva. She couldn’t help but admire how you shook under her

“Why’d you stop?” Whining seemed to be a strong suit of yours

“In me.” Wednesday wipes a bit of her saliva off her chin, and you swear it’s the most attractive thing ever “Now.”

“Huh?”

“You know what I mean. Really, do I always have to spell it out for you?”

“You have to cut me some slack here, Wens…”

“I suppose I could provide an understanding for your view. You’re nothing but a dumb pup, are you not? Your kind is known to follow orders.”

“I think you’re confusing me with a domesticated dog, Wednesday”

“If I were to demand you pluck stars from the night, you would, would you not?”

“I mean I would, but for different reasons…”

“My point still stands.” Wednesday mumbles, sinking down on your erection. You don’t remember when she got naked, but you’re also not exactly complaining

The Addams holds onto your shoulders for support, and you hesitate before putting your hands on her hips. Luckily you made the right choice, your warm hands directly polar to Wednesday’s.

It takes a little effort for Wednesday to completely take in your cock, but the stretch is worth it when she sees your labored breathing like she’s the best pussy you’ve ever had. Which, Wednesday wouldn’t admit she was proud of. She could feel every vein on your cock and every twitch made her spiral into thoughts of you

The sight is funny, you think. The Wednesday Addams is impaled on your cock. The Wednesday Addams that saved Nevermore. The Wednesday Addams that was notorious for being gorgeously scary. That Wednesday Addams was riding your dick like her life depended on it.

Skin slapping together was music to your ears, and the feeling in your lower stomach you recognized well was rapidly building up. Wednesday came with a hitch in her breath, and you reluctantly pulled out before releasing your own cum with a groan. Both of you are left breathing hard.

“There will be a silver bullet in your skull if you so much as think about telling anyone about this.” Wednesday mutters in between breaths.

“Duly noted.”

—

You’ve been in this arrangement with Wednesday for about 4 months, now

The first month consisted of a casual fuck here and there. After a particularly hard week, teachers being annoying, or a hard test. It wasn’t difficult to keep your situation away from your friends. For all they knew, you two were still the platonic match-made-in-hell duo that were strictly friends

The second month was a little harder to keep your situation away from your friends. Wednesday would randomly pull you into any empty closet or classroom she could for a quick orgasm to get her through the day

The third month was rough. You two went on dates as you liked to call it, but Wednesday would call them study sessions or hangouts. Trips to Jericho on the weekend, Wednesday helping you with botany, it was practically impossible to separate both of you. Unfortunately your friends became suspicious

So during the fourth month, a new vampire transferred to Nevermore. You were assigned to give her a tour of the school and her classes. When Wednesday saw you two hang out when you’d usually see the Addams, she suspected the tour went better than anticipated. What Wednesday expected to be a minor inconvenience for one day, caused her many unwanted thoughts. It made a vein pop out of her neck. (not literally, but that’s what it felt like)

Wednesday noticed how you two started spending more time together after and during school. Of course there was definitely a reasonable explanation, you were her only friend. Unfortunately a very minuscule part of her brain is telling her you like the new vampire more than the Addams. The thought didn’t sit right with her

You were supposed to be Wednesday’s. You were supposed to only have eyes for the Addams and not some vampire that doesn’t even make you half as happy as her. You would always be Wednesday’s. When you finally realized the vampire wasn’t enough to satiate your needs, Wednesday would be there. She would be there to catch your fall, and the thought made her uncomfortable.

Wednesday Addams, a feared individual that wore her heart tucked under enough layers of blunt sarcasm and a deathly scary look, yet once glance from you sent her spiraling into something between fear and love. She hated it. She hated you. Wednesday hated you for bringing this side out of her she swore to be kept away from the surface of her character.

The Addams couldn’t afford this. You were her weakness. You definitely knew this as well. Unwanted doubt flooded her mind. Thoughts that ended up with you exploiting her only weakness made her heart ache, and not in a way she enjoyed.

You would end up breaking off your relationship with the Addams, leaving her to be made a fool as you were the only one that could do it. The worst part is Wednesday couldn’t even be angry with you. She knew you deserved someone of your own kind. Another werewolf that would understand and satiate your needs. Wednesday would end the arrangement the next time she saw you.

—

“(L/n).”

“Wednesday?” You open up your door with a smile on your face. A sight for sore eyes is what you were.

“We cannot continue our arrangement.”

“What? What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Wednesday wished she could take back her words, but she was doing this to keep herself safe. To make you happy.

“Our late night meetings can no longer continue. I’ve grown uncomfortable with your presence.”

“Wednesday, I-“

“A nuisance is what you are. You’re needy, and you can’t do anything by yourself. You really are just a dumb mutt. You are incapable of doing anything except cling to me like a lost child.” Wednesday spits out, and something akin to regret dawns on her face

Stray tears leave your eyes and you wipe them up as quickly as they fall, but Wednesday notices. She can tell you’re trying to be strong, your quivering lip giving you away

“I’m- I’m sorry you feel that way, Addams.” You say before turning your back on Wednesday, closing the door. Broken sobs escape your throat, and Wednesday brings her hand up to your doorknob. She thinks a little longer before a single tear falls from her eye. She turns to leave instead.

—

Three weeks, nearing four since you’ve last talked to Wednesday. You’ve been out for a week and a half and Wednesday knows exactly why. Since the Addams has been helping with your heats for the past few months, you haven’t needed to request for more suppressants. Neither you nor Wednesday knew why your heats were commonly hell-ish and lasted for weeks without the suppressants you desperately needed

Really, she could picture you right now. You would’ve found the boxers that created the least amount of friction, and you’d be whimpering and whining while your tail rapidly thumped against the bed mattress. Finding the nearest thing to bite, which usually happened to be your bed frame, you’d sink your teeth into the cold wood and find a splinter on your tongue the next time you brushed your teeth. Rinse and repeat until you eventually fell asleep or Wednesday saved you from your own body

It was pathetic how much you constantly needed Wednesday…and consequently, how much Wednesday needed you.

Disgusting is the only word Wednesday can choose when thinking of how much space in her mind you took up. She was seated in the Quad while eating an apple and contemplating her life. Which, was not in an ideal situation.

“I know you want to talk to her, Wednesday” Enid takes a seat near the shorter girl

“I do not.”

“I know for a fact you didn’t mean what you said. Unfortunately, you’re too stubborn to realize it”

“She has that new girl, does she not?”

“For the last time, Wednesday, they aren’t dating”

“They may as well be. The two are practically attached at the hip”

“So were you two, but then you decided to fuck it all up and haven’t talked to her since” Enid groans. This is was going to be harder than she thought

“Wednesday, you know how much I love you, right?”

“Annoyingly so.”

“Not-so-respectfully, you fucked up really bad. I know you didn’t mean it, but would you rather see her kiss another girl, or would you rather be the girl she kisses?”

The question makes Wednesday hesitate, and relief washes over Enid. Did she want to be with you? She mentally scoffs at the thought. The Wednesday Addams uncharacteristically soft for a girl. Outrageous. Disgusting. Absolutely unheard-

“Well, it seems you have your answer. Talk to her right now, ‘kay?” Enid knew her roomie would do the right thing even if it was gut wrenchingly difficult

The shorter girl only responds with a grumble, but it’s enough of an answer for Enid to skip away and continue being the social butterfly she was. Wednesday was going to… apologize to you. Just thinking of the word made her recoil, but it was you she was going to. As much as Wednesday didn’t like apologizing, she didn’t want to admit the thought of being away from you any longer was the worse option

She was almost in the same exact situation almost five months ago. Only this time you were sad, and it was Wednesday’s job to make you feel better (in more ways than one)

It didn’t take long getting to your dorm. She knew all of the correct routes and shortcuts to take. Wednesday was met with a tightly locked door and a knob that had collected dust after the past week and a half. She brought a hand to the door, knocking loudly

The Addams was only met with silence. That is, silence, with the exception of stray whines and whimpers

“It’s Wednesday.” Silence again.

“I know you’re in there. Ignore me and I’ll find other means to see you.” More silence

“You’ve made your decision.” The shorter girl sighs, taking a lock pick from her uniform pocket. Why she had a lock pick? For important situations like these, of course

When Wednesday finally managed to unlock your door, she noticed how you looked considerably worse than the first time the Addams decided to help you with your heat

What Wednesday didn’t expect was you fully naked sprawled on your bed. Bite marks littered your bed frame and a chew toy Wednesday bought to mock you, but it ended up being somewhat helpful. A low quality fan spun, only making your scent waft around the room even more. An air freshener was mentally added to her list of things to buy

“Go away, Wednesday.” You growled. You never growled. “If you’re here to mock me and call me a nuisance, I’d recommend you leave”

“I came to help.”

“You’ve full of bullshit, aren’t you?”

“I’m not lying, Y/n.”

“Go away, Wednesday, I’m not going to say it again.” The Addams only took this as an invitation to step closer to your bed where you were laying face down and a light blanket to cover your ass

When you only heard footsteps near, something inside you snapped. You were a werewolf. Not a puppy that said please with a tail between your legs. No, you would make Wednesday leave. Also you were sexually frustrated while in heat, so that was definitely fuel to your sour mood

Before she could register what had happened, you pinned the smaller girl to the floor. Your pupils contracted into small circles while there was a permanent snarl on your face

“I said, go away.” Your erection accidentally brushes against Wednesday’s thigh, and she was suddenly aware of how much self control you had for not already relentlessly stuffing the shorter girl full of your cum

“Knot me, cucciola.”

When the words leave Wednesday’s mouth, something in you changes. You’re overcome with sinful thoughts, and your cock starts to drool with precum at the image of Wednesday being full of you. It’s sinful, truly

“Is that why you came here? Just to be bred?”

“No, but it seems my words are working. You’re incredibly hard.” The shorter girl grabs your erection, jerking you off roughly

“Puppy.”

“Don’t… don’t call me that.” You say in between moans. Wednesday starts to sit up, and your back meets the side of your bed frame

“Cucciola wants to breed?”

“F-Fuck you.”

“We’re getting there, mi sol” The pet name accidentally slips, but you’re far too blissed out to notice

“She can’t make you feel as good as me, can she?”

“W-What? Who are you talking about?”

“You know who. The vampire that can’t get her hands off you.”

“Wednesday, we’re no-“ The shorter girl only started to stroke you faster. Her hand barely fit around your cock, but it still felt like heaven

“I don’t- I don’t like her that way” You say in between moans. Your orgasm was nearing and Wednesday knew this. She slowed down her pace, and you whined at the sudden loss of stimulation

“Knot me.”

“Huh?”

“Show me you don’t like her the way you like me.” You only notice your proximity after she speaks. Your noses are only inches apart. Wednesday’s eyes flick down to your lips, and you quickly close the distance

Wednesday was an addiction. Nicotine, acid, weed, none of it compared to how you felt while kissing Wednesday. You’d get drunk off her taste and crave it until she was in your arms once again. It was hell without her

When the shorter girl accidentally grinds on you, a surge of lust runs through your body. You quickly pick her up with your lips still attached to hers and take off her skirt. You couldn’t go another second without being in Wednesday

Sinking her onto your hardened erection, you let out a gasp of pleasure when her velvety walls stretch at your intrusion. You’re holding up her body by her thighs, and Wednesday just wishes you’d go faster.

“Cucciolo, ti amo.” The Addams moans when she looks down to see she’s only taken half of your length in her pussy. The sight is rather lewd, Wednesday thinks. Your cock is absolutely dripping with pre-cum when you push yourself further in her

“Mierda. Más, cachorro. Tan bueno para mi.” Wednesday slips into her native tongue. You haven’t seen her like this any other time she’s… helped you out

Bringing your lips to hers again, you decide to be in control when you push your tongue into her mouth. Eyes half lidded, bangs sticking to her forehead, and hair a bit disheveled, you think she’s never been prettier.

You let Wednesday rest a bit before sinking your cock deeper into her cunt, and the Addams ends up scratching you hard enough small amounts blood start to drip down your back. The sensation takes you by surprise. Accidentally bucking your hips up further into Wednesday, the girl lets out a groan as she fully takes your length in her pussy.

Placing her on the bed, you notice a tiny bulge in her stomach. You decide to be bold. Pressing your thumb against the intrusion, you hear a sound you’ve never heard before

Wednesday whimpers at your touch.

You do it again.

Her cunt squeezes around your cock, making it harder for you to keep thrusting. But you’re a wolf in heat and Wednesday is incredibly horny, so you continue your movements.

“Sh-She’ll never- she’ll never be as good as you, Wens…” An unexpected growl comes from deep within your throat

“No one can take my cock as good as you…” You’re thrusting considerably faster when Wednesday looks back down at where you two meet. The scenario folding out is a sight for sore eyes, the Addams thinks. You, feeding into your primal urges like it’s an unstoppable beast; and Wednesday willingly taking it in however she can.

“Cara mia.”

“Mine… mine all mine. No one else but mine…” You whimper a little pathetically, but the girl below you is only focused on your thrusts. Her cold hands find their way to your back again, leaving a trail of blood behind

“Yours, puppy. All yours.” Wednesday feeds into your possessive behavior. She knows she shouldn’t, but with you thoughts of reason leave her head and are replaced with thoughts of you

“Were you serious about the knotting, Wens?”

“Deathly.”

“Are you- mph~ sure? It’s kinda big…” The girl under you looks down again, and your ever growing knot seems to just be getting bigger and bigger. Even horny out of your mind, you still wanted to make sure your mate was alright.

…you decide to ignore that thought.

Your eyes were trained on how your erection stretched out Wednesday. Her pussy would be yours, and yours alone. Nobody would make her feel as good as you did. You’d make sure she wouldn’t need anyone else’s cock but yours.

A breathy moan erupts from your throat when you start to actively try to push your knot into Wednesday

“Relax for me Wens, it’ll never go in unless you want it too” You feel her tensed under your touch, but your words are enough for her to relax

Every thrust you get closer, until you eventually start to reach your peak. You can tell Wednesday is too. Her hair is messy and both of your bodies are littered with marks of possession.

“I-I’m so close Wens…” Are the last words you say before succeeding in pushing your knot into the Addams girl. You cum inside of Wednesday’s pussy, and the swell of your knot inside her is enough for Wednesday to cum impaled on your cock. The feeling of being full is an experience Wednesday wished she did with you far sooner.

You wiggle your hips to seemingly get more comfortable inside of Wednesday, but the movement only makes her moan. She was sensitive as hell.

“…was that enough proof I like you more than I like her?”

“More than enough, (Y/n).”

[222col]

second best | part two

★ patrick zweig x reader ★ you're after revenge, wanting to give patrick a taste of his own medicine, the question is, how long will it last? ★ 5.3k ★ 18+ | cw: smut: unprotected sex, choking, spanking ★ an: part one | take a shot every time u see the word thwaccckkkk

"you gonna win for me tomorrow?" patrick mumbles against your skin, his lips against your neck, arms around your waist as his hips buck up into you. you'd made it to the final of the tournament, your first final of a slam, in only your second pro season. biting down on his earlobe, legs wrapped around his waist, groaning into his ear. "yeah? gonna be a good girl and win for me?" he repeats, causing another moan from you. "you're so beautiful when you play, can't wait to watch you." it's as though the only time you and patrick are truly honest with each other is when you're fucking each other, drunk off the sex, too fucked out to play along with any games that exist between you. you can barely form words to respond to patrick, not that you'd need to, he can understand you without them. he mumbles more praise into your ear as he finishes inside you, panting against your skin. "my perfect girl." he whispers, placing open mouth kisses to your shoulder. my perfect girl. you're not even his girl, not really. immediately sliding off him, starting to get dressed as he attempts to pull you back onto the bed with him. "i need to prepare for tomorrow." you mumble, pulling your t-shirt over your head. "why are you being so bitchy these past few days?" he pokes, leaning back on his palms. "you've barely looked at me if i'm not literally inside you." you're biting back your words, holding in your anger that's so close to bubbling over. waiting desperately to chew him out, curse at him, scream every word you can think of at him, but you don't. you simply stand, walk over to the door, and tell him goodbye.

you'd vowed to yourself that your time in new york was the end of your time with patrick, as soon as the us open was over, so were you and him. you'd come to your senses after getting home the night of the quarter finals. you wanted revenge. you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, make him sweat. show him what he was doing to you was wrong, that you deserved better than second best. it might be slightly immoral, but patrick had pushed you past limits you didn't know you had. you knew the easy thing would be just telling his girlfriend, but that was almost too easy. you wanted to see him worked up, wanted to see how far he'd go denying his feelings for you. how long he could go before snapping.

6-3. first set. 5-4. second set. you were one game away from lifting the trophy. one game away from your first grand slam title. 40-15. one more point. thwaccckkkk! the ball bounces onto the other side of the net and straight past your opponent, feeling yourself fall to the ground as the crowd erupts. letting a scream fall from your lips, pulling yourself back up to your feet. patrick's the first you see, stood with your team, wide grin plastered on his face as you walk over to shake your opponents hand. after you collect your trophy, doing all your press junkets, you head into the dressing room. seeing patrick sat there, on the bench waiting for you. "congrats, champ." he sits there smirking at you as you drop your bag to the floor. you walk straight over to him, standing between his legs as he wraps his arms around you. "i'm all sweaty, get off." you mumble, despite his grip only tightening. "no, i love it." he grins, his face pushing into your stomach, kissing the fabric that clings to your skin. "so proud of you." he whispers, inhaling your scent as his hands move down to your ass, underneath your skirt, massaging the flesh through your shorts. his face turns up, looking up to you as you stand before him, ripping your tight top off your body. breathing in deeply, before patrick stands, letting you peel his t-shirt from his body. pushing you up against the wall, his lips attaching to yours. his hands roaming your body, pushing your skort down your legs as you move your feet out from the pool of fabric. "let me look after you, winner." he mumbles into your skin of your neck, undoing his jeans and pushing them down his legs.

it's messy, desperate, the speed in which yours and his underwear are thrown behind you. his big hands lifting you up, laying you down on the bench, his legs either side of it. spitting in his hands, wiping it up and down his length. his hands gripping into your hips, pulling them up to meet him as he pushes himself into you. your back arched at the sensation, choking back moans as he fucks himself into you. his signature smirk across his face, seeing you squirm under his touch. his nails digging into your skin, skin slapping against yours. your already weak body losing more energy, letting patrick take complete control of you. "that's my good girl, let me take care of you." he hums, biting his lip, keeping his groans stuck in his throat. his eyes are glued to you, watching yours roll back into your head as he lifts your hips up even higher. "feel so fucking good baby." he mumbles praise, bringing your legs up to rest against his chest. pressing wet kisses to your ankles. your hands gripping the wooden panels of the bench, head flung back as a loud whimper leaves your mouth. "shush," patrick hums, chuckling almost. "you're gonna get us caught, princess." he leans forward, contorting your body as he moves one of his hands over your mouth. your brows are furrowed, looking up into his eyes as he pounds into you harder. your mouth agape under his calloused hand, his fingers tight on your cheekbones. his grip on your hip moves to bring his hand to your cunt, smirking as he watches you squirm once his thumb starts circling your clit. he loves you like this, a whimpering, sweaty mess under his touch. it's his favourite sight in the world, watching you unravel under him. all his over thoughts disappear the second you're alone with him. he'd live in his state if humanly possible.

your body jolts, writhing under his touch as you fall over the line. moans slipping through his fingers as he works you through your high. his head flinging back, shooting his load into you as he feels you clench around him. "holy fuck." he groans, gripping onto your ankles as he lets his cum drip down from you. both whimpering at the loss of sensation as he pulls out of you, letting your legs drop down to your sides. "jesus, that was fucking insane." he mutters, chuckling slightly. "i know." you smile back, walking over to the shower to clean yourself up as he gets dressed. walking back out in a new skort and matching top, zipping up your jacket as you pick up your bags. "that was the last time." you state, lips flatlined as you look to his position by the lockers. patrick's brows furrowing, kicking himself off the metal lockers to strand up straight. "what?" he questions, his mouth slightly agape. shrugging your shoulders as you open the door to the dressing room. "i'm not second best." patrick's speechless, watching you leave. his body slumping down onto the floor, his head flinging back into the lockers with force. "fuck!"

it's a month before you see patrick again, at the next tournament you're both competing at. a stream of unanswered texts flood your phone, along with a collection of drunk voicemails left by him. swept away by the attention winning your first slam, your focus on your tennis for the time being. half way across the world, you check into your hotel, readying yourself for the players mixer being held. walking into the hotel's function room, the hall already awash with players as you strut over to the bar. "will you just fucking talk to me?" you hear the familiar voice in your ear the second he reaches you. "fuck off, patrick." you murmur, before ordering yourself a drink. "you're killing me." he groans, his voice needy. "why won't you reply to any of my texts?" he questions, as you stand by a table, holding your drink in your hands, not looking to him. patrick's following you around like a puppy, desperate for you to just look at him, let alone reply. when you finally do, look at him, his breath catches in his throat. your eyes are soft, despite the rest of your face being utterly unimpressed by him. "i told you. it's over, patrick. leave it alone." you grumble, your words like knives to his chest. "go cry to your girlfriend." you spit, bringing your glass up your lips, looking away from him. "i don't have a girlfriend." he returns, leaning on the table, facing you. he's drinking in every move you make, every time you blink, inhaling your scent after a month away from you.

that was a new development. you bite back any form of reaction to patrick's words, just placing your drink back down on the table. he opens his mouth to speak again but he's cut off by another player entering the conversation. "hey, i'm jack. can I buy you a drink?" he smiles to you, leaning on his elbow to face you. patrick rolls his eyes, watching your body contort to face the voice beckoning you. "she's already got one." patrick mumbles, before you cut him off and nod your head to the brunette on the other side of you. "yeah, i'd like that." patrick grumbles, rolling his eyes as he watches you walk over to the bar, leaning his back on the table, glancing down to your half empty drink left beside him. he thought things would be easier, seeing you again. thought you'd come running back into his arms, especially now he'd dumped his girlfriend. but you don't. you spit at him, crush him more than the month of unanswered texts did. he sighs, picking up the remainder of your drink, downing it all as he watches you laugh and lean into the guy you're with. he spends the night sulking, drinking, watching you. pushing away the people who attempt to talk to him, too focused on watching your interactions. you're hanging onto jack's arm by the end of the night, letting him lead you upstairs, to his room. all patrick can do is watch. watch you slip further away from his grasp, while drowning his sorrows in more alcohol, that he won't be thankful for tomorrow during the first round of press.

patrick's there, always there, wherever you are the whole weekend of press and promo. following you around, just to see you. even if it means seeing you flirt and shower men that aren't him in your attention. he's lost, dumfounded on how to act if you aren't with him. desperate just to hear your velvety voice, see your lips upturn in reaction to his words, not someone else. he's consumed with need, attempting to distract himself with his tennis, not that it's working. he's panting, sweat dripping from his body on the practise courts when you walk out. seeing jack on the other side of you, carrying both sets of racket bags. throwing the ball down onto the floor a few times, breathing in before serving it across the court, met with a nod of approval by his coach. his eyes coast over to you, setting up your things, ready to play against jack. you've replaced him. you're doing everything you used to with patrick, but with another man. you don't need him anymore. it doesn't help patrick's ego that jack's ranking is much higher than his own. patrick attempts to carry on with his training, ignore the distraction of you only two courts away, but he's struggling. "get it together, patrick. c'mon." his coach presses, shouting over instructions as balls keep flying his way. it's almost impossible to concentrate on anything that isn't you. especially when he hears your grunts as you hit the ball over the net. trying to snap himself out of it, out of the very impure thoughts he's thinking. thwaccckkkk! patrick serves the ball with all his frustrations, receiving eyes on him as he does. "not bad, zweig." you half smile to him across the courts. he swears his heart stops beating.

you'd both made it through the round of 32, you're sitting in the recovery pool a couple hours after the match when patrick walks in. you don't notice the door open, only noticing his presence when his smirk forms in front of you, slipping into the small pool, sitting opposite you. "i see you're enjoying the tournament." patrick teases, his arms spread over the edges of the pool. "it's only just started." you return, pulling your legs closer to your body, away from his. "i meant more the company." he pushes, that signature smirk not leaving his lips. he wants to push you, tease you, how you're pushing him. "not that it's any of your business." you scoff, titling your head over to where he sits in the water, trying to read his expression. his hands raise in defence as he sucks on his teeth. "are you gonna be like this with me for the rest of the tour?" his tone becoming more serious as he gulps. his heart rate quickening, realising how close your body is, in such little clothing. he hadn't been alone with you for over a month, his teeth chewing on the inside of his cheek, holding back his urge to reach out and touch you. you don't respond, just rolling your eyes and looking away from him. "tell me you don't want me and i'll leave you alone." the words leave patrick's lips before he can even realise what he's said. his stomach in knots the second he realises what he's proposed, he wouldn't be able to stay away even if you did tell him that. "i don't want you." the words hit his chest before his ears, his gaze on you intense as his bottom lip is moves between his teeth. patrick's brows furrow, just looking at you as his body floods with emotion. "you don't mean that." he chokes out. all you do is stare back at him, your face unreadable as you do. the water splashes onto your chest as patrick abruptly exists the pool, wrapping the towel around his waist as he looks down to you, your eyes lifting to look up to him. your gaze still soft, as it always is with patrick. "whatever." he mumbles, pushing the door open as he scrambles out of the room.

you distract yourself with tennis, or attempt to. lying to yourself that you don't want patrick. that you don't want to run to him, to be with him, to be his. if it wasn't tennis you used as a distraction, it was jack. he knew your head was elsewhere, so was his, so it worked. you were making your way through the tournament, into the round of 16, as was patrick. a lot of eyes obviously on you after winning the us open, your ranking moving up as well as the media circus that followed you. 'new tennis power couple?' was the article you were sent, with pictures of you and jack attached. rolling your eyes as you scrolled mindlessly through the so called news site. laughing about it with jack as you joined up with him for lunch, hearing the whispers around the hall as you sat together. patrick sat alone, pushing around the food on his plate, seeing the updates come out about you and jack. he should have known not to believe it, he knows how the media can be. you're barely even touching jack in the pictures, he doesn't know you like patrick does. but it doesn't stop the pit in his stomach as he watches the two of you together. it's only when he's alone in his hotel room that he texts you, adding another message to the number of texts he'd sent over the course of the month.

patrick: i know i said i'd back off but just tell me it's not true

sighing at notification on your phone, the bright screen lighting up the empty room. you try to fight off the urge to reply, knowing exactly what he's referencing. eventually, your head wins, turning the phone off and going to downstairs to the hotel lobby, your next match wasn't until the day after tomorrow. the read receipt highlighted on patrick's phone as he sits on the chat. throwing the phone across the room after a while of sitting there waiting. after throwing a shirt on his body, he wandered down to the hotel lobby. you're already down there, sat alone with a drink in hand. patrick quietly orders himself a drink and sits down across from you. "please, just talk to me." he sighs, leaning closer to you over the table. "patrick, i-" your defences are down, too tired, too frustrated. "i know i hurt you, okay? i'll never forgive myself for that, but i miss you." he babbles, his hand inching closer towards yours. "i'm so sorry, i want you, okay, just you." he whispers, his words coming out more like sobs than fully formed sentences. you're about to open your mouth to reply, when jack appears in front of you. you'd texted him to meet you down here. looking to patrick before back up to jack, standing up to kiss his lips. it was a low blow, you knew that, but patrick deserved it. he'd ruined your self-respect, you earned your right to serve his karma to him. patrick doesn't say anything, just watches. watches your hands wrap in his hair, watches your body melt against his, watches his heart get ripped out of his chest. you make eye contact with patrick as you push jack away towards the elevators, his face emotionless.

it was fate. horrible, twisted fate that patrick would draw jack in the quarter finals. everyone was backing jack to win, he was on paper the better player. more pragmatic, less chaotic than patrick. but patrick knew he had a point to prove. his eyes immediately found you in the stands at he walks out onto the court, his smirk present as he sets down his things. you're sat with a few of the friends you've made during the tour, barely able to focus on the conversation around you, eyes darting between patrick and jack sitting before you on the court. thwaccckkkk! your nails are half bitten off by the end of the first set, your heart in your chest at the end of the second. 6-2, 6-4. one set each. patrick was playing more erratically than usual, his curls slick to his forehead, sweat dripping down his chin. thwaccckkkk! patrick's eyes dart to you. "game, set, match, zweig." patrick's body slumps to the floor, his arms resting on his knees, catching his breath before walking across the court to shake jack's hand. his eyes dart up to you again, to your empty seat. his eyes search for you, catching a glimpse of you exiting the stands. slumping down onto the floor again, thinking how it didn't mean anything. his win, to you, met nothing.

it's 10pm when you hear the knocking on your hotel door, jumping up from your place on the bed, opening the door to patrick. ready to close the door on him before he barges in. "i fucking won, and you just leave?" his voice already raised, facing you as you close the door. "so what?" you scoff, arms crossed against your chest. "i won, i beat him." his tone angry, his chest already pounding. "i didn't realise you were playing for my attention." your words are sharp, cutting through to him. "of course i fucking was!" patrick shouts, his body only two foot away from your own. "everything i do is to get your attention." his voice still raised. your lips are flat, just staring at him, but eyes still soft. "you are killing me." he almost whispers. "patrick, this was never going to end well, just look at how we started." your voice starts to increase in volume, fed up of this wounded puppy display patrick is showing. "i don't want it to end at all." you're both shouting now, not caring about who can hear through the hotel walls. "this is fucking ridiculous, i'm not your girlfriend, never fucking was." you spit your words out, arms dropping to your sides. "i'm not the only one who was cheating, you know? or did you forget that when you jumped on your high horse?" patrick's words are pointed, his body stepping closer towards you. "yeah, but i actually dumped my boyfriend! for you, patrick!"

he doesn't know how, he doesn't remember telling his body to move, but he definitely doesn't mind that it did. his hands are cupped around your face, his lips smashed into yours. you push yourself off of him, looking into his eyes before immediately crashing your lips back onto his. it's messy, tongues slipping over each others, your hands grabbing at the fabric around his waist. "tell me you want me." patrick mumbles into your mouth, his hands moving to grip at the hairs on your scalp. a grumble falls from you, your tongue pushing further into patrick's mouth before he pulls your head away by your hair. forcing your eyes to look to his, his fist balled around your hair. "tell me you fucking want me." you want to punch the smirk off his face, your breath heavy as you stare into his half-lidded eyes. "i want you." he pulls your head back further. "tell me again." your mouth agape, a quiet whimper escaping you. "i want you." you moan out, his grip loosening as his lips attach to yours again, only parting to pull your t-shirt over your head. "good girl." he whispers, as your fingers pull his shirt off his body. it's moments before patrick reaches down, hooking your thighs under his grip, lifting you up and walking over to the bed. his lips only detaching from yours when he throws your body down onto the mattress. patrick's eyes are dark as he crawls over your body, his lips kissing up from your stomach before he reaches your neck. propped up on your elbows as his mouth nips and sucks at the base of your neck, quiet hums of pleasure from you rush to his ears like it's the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. "missed your skin." he mumbles against your jaw, wrapping his lips around your earlobe. "shut up." you groan, your head angling to expose more of your neck to him.

"oh, you wanna be a little brat do you?" his evil smirk shows again, fingers digging into the sides of your wrists as he pins them up above your head. he manoeuvres to capture your wrists with one of his hands as the other pushes your shorts down to your knees, slipping his hand into your panties, groaning as he feels your wetness. using his knee to push your legs apart, your shorts bunching at your ankles as you free your feet from the pool of fabric. "so wet for me already." he teases, his fingers sliding through your folds as he starts circling your clit. patrick's mouth sucking on the skin of your collarbone as you struggle trying to free your arms from his grip. all he does is push your wrists further into the mattress, his fingers digging into your skin. his eyes glare into yours as he watches every expression you make, not daring to look away as the pace of his fingers speeds up. "mmm, so close," you mumble, your back arching before patrick rips his fingers away, letting go of your wrists at the same time. "what the fuck." you grumble, a slight pout on your lips, only causing an evil chuckle from patrick. "you don't get to cum until i'm inside you." he smirks, ripping your panties down your legs before standing up to pull his shorts down his legs along with his underwear. "you're so fucking annoying." you continue complaining as patrick crawls over your body again, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "why are you so desperate to fuck me then?"

your mouth opens to reply, words inching out as patrick's hand wraps around your throat. "shut the fuck up." he smirks, his fingers digging into the sides of your neck as you fight for breath. your hand moves to grip as his wrist, watching as patrick lets a glob of spit drip from his mouth down onto your cunt. sitting himself up on his knees, your thighs resting against his as his free hand drifts to rub his cock against you. smearing his spit into your wetness, teasing your entrance as he pushes himself in an inch. your head pushing back into the mattress, eyes fluttering closed as you attempt to ask him for more. "look at me." he orders, his eyes dark and half-lidded as you eventually look to him. "good girl." he groans as he slides himself in fully. patrick finally removes his hand from your throat, moving to squeeze the flesh of your thighs as he fucks you without mercy. his nails cutting into your skin as moans echo around the room, his body falling on top of yours as you clench around him. his forehead pressed against yours, open mouthed kisses pressed to your jaw. your arms wrapped around his body, clawing at his shoulder blades as your legs move to trap his body against yours. sucking bruises onto patrick's neck as his hips smash against yours repeatedly. he groans as he slides out you, flipping your body over and pulling your ass up against him. barely being able to register what's happened by the time his cock slides into you again, scrambling to prop yourself up onto all fours. thwaccckkkk! the sound of his open palm against your ass sends a shiver down your arching spine, as loud moans escape your throat. patrick spanks the flesh of your ass again before grabbing a handful of your hair, pulling your chest up closer to his body. patrick's grunts fill your ears as the hand on your ass reaches below you, his fingers drawing circles against your clit. his teeth nipping at the skin on your shoulder as he pulls you closer, your back flush against his chest. patrick can tell you're close to the edge, feeling the way you clench around him and the volume of your moans getting louder.

"cum for me baby, be a good little girl and cum for me." patrick mumbles against your skin, licking the skin of your neck. his words force you to let go, an almost scream leaving your lips as your body nearly crumbles at the sensation. patrick's grip on your hair keeping you upright, humming into your neck. he lets you ride out your high before pushing your chest down into the mattress, his big hands gripping at the sides of your body under your arms as he fastens his pace. your face near enough buried in the mattress as you turn to try and look up to him behind you, patrick groaning louder as you do. "so fucking pretty like this." he murmurs, nails digging into your flesh as he slams his hips against your ass once more, filling your insides with his load. "jesus fucking christ." patrick groans as his body falls flat on top of you, panting as he places sloppy kisses to your back. feeling his load start to drip down you as he slides out and falls to the side of you.

your bodies are bruised and scratched, staring into each others eyes as you both attempt to return your breathing to a normal pace. patrick leans over, kissing your lips sweetly as you manoeuvre onto your side. "i take it that means you and jack aren't a thing, right? or did you just cheat on another boyfriend?" patrick almost laughs at himself, as you swat his arm. "you're such an asshole." you laugh, shaking your head at him. this is what he'd missed. your laugh, the way you looked at him, you being the only person in the world who could put him in his place. the way you put up with him, how you always knew what to say. moving to brush his curls off his forehead, letting your fingers rest against his cheek, slowly caressing his skin. "i meant what i said, that i just want you." patrick whispers, his hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "i know." you smile, your thumb still rubbing back and forth on his face. the silence is comfortable, eyes locked on each other, peaceful. waking up the next morning, it's as though everything has fallen back into place. patrick joins you training, returns to his regular position opposite you on the practise courts. there's no conversations about your relationship, patrick's too scared to ask. too scared to question, he doesn't want to risk pushing you away again.

thwaccckkkk! sitting in the box with patrick's coaches and the rest of his team, watching patrick play in his first final of his professional career. you'd unfortunately been knocked out during the semi-finals, meaning the rest of your time during the tournament was spent helping patrick prepare. you could tell patrick was nervous, despite no one else picking up on it. to the average eye, he was calm, playing as chaotically controlled as usual. sweat was dripping from every inch of his skin, his black tank stuck to his chest as he rolled the racket between his hands. patrick was a set up against his opponent, he'd won six games to four. his eyes glance over to the box, listening to his coach's advice, letting his eyes wander to you as he does. the silence is almost eery, not that he wasn't used to it during matches, but the silence before serves is when he really considers his surroundings. he's in the final, his first final. he's a set up, he could actually win this. you're a wreck, anxiously watching from the stands as patrick wins another game. a smirk rushes onto your face, watching patrick hit a tweener, to win the match. jumping up to your feet with his team as the crowd erupts. it's as though patrick doesn't register it, until he looks at you. his racket drops from his hands, falling onto his knees, letting the wash of emotion rush over him. he shakes his opponent's hand before security bring him through the crowd to his team. engulfed in hugs by his coaches, shouting how proud they are of him before he escapes their grip. moving down to you, his arms wrapping around you as he lifts you up to the air. "i knew you'd win." you giggle into his ear as he places you down onto the ground, his teethy grin not leaving his face. his hands stay wrapped around you as his lips crash into yours, in the middle of the crowd, in front of cameras from every angle. "i can't believe you just did that." you smile, blush creeping onto your cheeks as you feel every set of eyes on you. "what? i can't kiss my girl after winning my first title?" patrick chuckles, hands pulling you flush against him. "oh, your girl, huh?" you laugh, hands snaking around his neck, his lips grazing yours as he speaks. "you know you're mine."