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l0ngschl0ngking · 2 years ago

Text

Work for it

Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: Javier wants you. Plain and simple. You don’t fall for his charm so easily

warnings: as always SMUT (m!masturbation, semi-public handjob, vaginal fingering, oral - f!receiving, protected p in v, biting, spitting, hair pulling, praise kink), cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, fluff and soft!Javi - because I can’t help myself

word count: 17k (holy moly guacamole - I am so fucking sorry)

A/N: This took me literally five days to finish (longer than I anticipated). Writing and then editing, re-reading it over and over again. But I had so much fun writing these two together. I love them.

You will never forget the day you met the infamous Javier Peña.

It was the first day at your new job - a new beginning for you, let’s say. Moving to a new country whose language you hardly spoke, having to accommodate to the new pace of things. That didn’t mean it was a bad thing though - you needed the change. After living in a small town for nearly all of your life where everyone knew everything about you, you were pretty glad when they accepted you as a secretary for DEA office in Colombia. It was…different. The people, the lifestyle they led. Nonetheless, change was good for you - you needed it.

What you didn’t need - or at least you thought so at the beginning - was having a smooth talker, devilish charmer and so-called "ladies' man" ogle you right as you entered the DEA building. His eyes watched every measured step you took as you held your head high when passing by him - not giving him the time of a day. You could see from the corner of your eye that he licked his lips and smoothed his thumb along the bottom one, his eyes trailing your figure.

He watched your smooth legs move effortlessly - light as if you were a butterfly slowly floating in the air, even in your heels. He could definitely make your legs wobble if you would let him, he thought as he licked his lips. Your green work skirt fitted you like a damn glove, your white blouse flowy - made to look professional yet efficient for you to not cook alive in that god-forsaken Colombian heat - highlighting your sun-kissed skin. He felt like a dog that was shown a proper peace of meat after days of starving. Oh, and starved he was.

He almost broke his neck when you disappeared around the corner and Steve threw him an unimpressed look from behind the folder he was going through before he heard Javier roughly exhale. The blond-haired agent tossed the thick folder filled with documents on the desk and leaned back on the uncomfortable office chair as he watched his partner seemingly lost in thought - he could guess what thoughts were occupying his mind right then. He scoffed and that seemed to pull Javier out of his trance, his dark eyes narrowed as he looked at his partner.

“What?” he grumbled. Javier’s eyes were challenging as he bored them into Steve’s baby blues as if saying “just say what you want to say.”

One thing Javier hated about Steve - and there were a lot of things that he didn’t like about him but if he was to pinpoint one it would have to be this - was how he unseemingly loved to call out Javier on his so-called “bullshit”. Even though often it was his private life - which frankly was none of his business. He loved to criticize and not be criticized in return - that he and Peña had in common even if he neither one of them would ever admit that.

“Don’t even think about it, Peña.” Steve muttered as he held eye contact with Javier - neither of them ready to back down.

Seconds passed. Maybe a minute even.

Javier was the first one to break it off as he glanced behind his shoulder, a sly grin spreading across his lips. He liked to play dirty - and pissing off his partner seemed plenty dirty play enough for him. And if you’d give in - as he was sure you would - and Steve would hear the pretty little cries of Javier’s name falling out of your lips? That seemed like a sweet victory to the dark-haired agent.

One thing about Javier was that when someone tells him can’t or shoudln’t do something - you know he will do exactly that. He turned to Steve once more.

“I don’t know what are you talking about.” Steve squinted his eyes and sighed - knowing damn well Javier was already planning on how to charm you in his mind.

“You know what I am talking about, Javier.”

His grin spread wider - his fingers quickly drumming on the wooden desk he was leaning his hands against. It was an old thing - folders that Javier should get through by tonight sitting on top of it. He had better things to do now. Paperwork could wait. Your perfume lingered in the office when you passed by, calling him to you like a damn siren song.

“Just trying to be friendly here, Murphy. Not that you know anything about it.”

“We both know that your definition of ‘friendly’ when it comes to women means ‘I want to spread-“

Before he could finish his sentence Javier was already one long leg out of the office making his way toward where you were seated at your desk. You were concentrated - your brows furrowed and the rim of your reading glasses falling from the bridge of your nose. You were not from here - Javier could tell. He noticed the mug filled with coffee on your desk that had “best sister ever” written on it in a thick cursive, the letters red and next to it a big heart.

The temperature in the office was hot - too hot even for Javi that was used to the Texan heat back from Laredo. His blue shirt damp from the sweat that dribbled down his back, his torso, his neck. The material of the shirt stuck to him. That wouldn’t be the last thing that would stick to him today. He was sure of that.

It seemed you came prepared though - the small fan on your desk felt like heaven on earth against your sweaty skin. He watched one droplet roll down from the side of your temple, slowly down to your jaw, your neck, falling into the juncture of it and rolling down between the valley of your breasts. He would gladly lick it from your skin if you’d let him. He would do much more than that to you if you’d let him.

“Can I help you with something?” His eyes teared away from your cleavage and met your gaze - your eyes narrowed in annoyance as you put your reading glasses down, the papers you were reading before he came laid now on your desk. He quickly scanned your features and yeah, you were definitely someone who’d he like to spend his night with. Or lunch break, or-

He ignored your question as he looked at your nails - one of his hands coming to inspect it closer but before he could you pulled your hands away - folding them across your chest. “I like the color. Brings out the color of your eyes.”

You quirked an eyebrow at that - leaning against the leather chair you looked him up and down quickly before leaning back towards him. Your elbows were prepped on the wooden desk and he leaned closer as well -his eyes quickly dipping to your cleavage once again.

“Listen here-“ A pause followed.

“Javi.” He offered.

“Javi.” You repeated. His name falling out of your mouth - the accent not quite right but he did not mind one bit. He found it endearing in a way. “Listen here, Javi. I don’t know what you think is going to happen but whatever it is just forget about it. Your southern charm won’t work on me. Been there, done that.”

He pulled away - taken back by your quick rejection, his eyebrows furrowing just a little. The crease on his brows showing and he took a quick breath to retort something, his tongue slipping out to lick his lower lip.

“And what did you think I thought was going to happen, mariposa?” The old leather chair creaked beneath your weight as you moved back in it slightly. An amused smirk pulled at your lips as you ignored the nickname he gave you - which in all honesty you didn’t know what it meant. You’d ask him another time. It seemed that you would be seeing this “Javi” a whole lot more than you thought.

You leaned closer to him and he did the same - as if the two of you were pulled by some magnetic force toward one another. It got hotter once his nose almost touched yours, his fingers with neatly trimmed nails gripping the edge of your desk. You slowly raised from your seat. You ignored it all - the way his eyes bored into yours, how you felt as if molten lava was in the pit of your stomach, how your hands clenched at your sides.

He smelled like cigarettes and coffee, and some kind of expensive cologne. The smell of him made your nose and insides burn - something about his presence made you feel like every cell in your body was on fire. That’s how the DEA agent made women feel most of the time - you didn’t know that back then.

Your voice dropped an octave lower as you whispered. “I don’t think it would be appropriate to say what I think you thought in a public setting. Especially in a working place.” An amused chuckle fell out of his lips as you seated yourself. Mirth danced in his eyes as he replied:

“Good thing I am inappropriate most of the time, mariposa.” Javier Peña was a bold man. He knew that and most of the people that were acquainted with him knew that. But you didn’t know who he was and he expected that you would scoff - tell him to fuck off. But you didn’t.

You couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto your lips as you pretended to read the documents on your desk - your conversation ending with that.

He watched you for a few seconds, expecting that maybe you would say something smart back in return because you know - it seemed you had a smart mouth. He turned on his heels as he left you to do what you actually came here to do - work - and he should do the same.

Oh, and you were going to be fun, he thought. When he came back and sat behind his desk, he had this stupid boyish smirk planted on his face. Steve looked at him and then back at where you were supposed to be working - even though he couldn’t see you. And the blonde-haired agent thought that this meant no good.

Three years passed since your first encounter with Javier.

Three torturous years filled with you two dancing around each other - like two ships passing one another in the stillness of a night. You two became somewhat friends. Three years filled with flirting and bickering, stolen glances and going out on drinks.

Sometimes Steve joined the two of you - most of the time not. At first, he seemed to be glued to Javier’s hip - afraid that his partner would try another one of his many tricks on you. Oh, and he did.

His flirtatious nature came out on the surface anytime you were near him - though you did not crumble under his advances as Javier wished you would. Your knees didn’t buckle, your cheeks didn’t turn a darker shade of red, your eyes didn’t flutter when he was closer to you than it seemed proper. But after a while, both agents found out you weren’t even near to falling for the smooth talker that Javier was. The only thing you offered him was friendship - your presence and your laugh, your silly jokes and weird habits.

And he took it all - his flirtatious nature and comments remained but it seemed more friendly than not. And you did the same in return - your smart-ass comments about how his ass looked “good enough to bite in those tight jeans" kept him on his toes, his cheeks hurt with all of the genuine laughter you pulled out of somewhere deep in his chest.

So Steve started joining your outings outside of work less and less - you were an intelligent woman and he liked you. You wouldn’t do something stupid like sleep with Javier.

The thing was - you wanted to. After the stressful day at work, you wished you could have Javier here - in your crappy apartment that was assigned to you by the U.S. embassy. You knew his reputation, you knew that his needs were simply carnal - a basic transaction of pleasure and bodily fluids. He never wanted his lady friends to stay over - never wanted them to have any expectations of having something more with him.

You can still remember the vivid shock you felt when you banged on the door of your next-door neighbor who appeared to only come alive at night.

The walls were thin and you could hear every moan, groan, slap of skin against skin, every bang that the bedframe made when hitting the wall. At first, you tried to ignore it - you bought earplugs. Multiple pairs. None of them seemed to work and one night you had had enough when you were right there on the edge of sleep after a particularly rough day and then - a long drawn-out moan made you squeeze your eyes before you shot out of the bed. The robe you wrapped around yourself to look at least half decent flew dramatically behind you.

You didn’t knock at the door - you banged - irritated and tired but still, you chewed at your lip as you thought of how the fuck will you say in spanish that they should finally “shut the fuck up and let you sleep”. You could hear a loud bang and then curses thrown into the air before the door swung open and Javier was standing in them - Javier from the office, Javier that undressed you with his eyes every time you entered the same room as him - his eyes wild and angry before they landed on you. All of the fire in his eyes disappeared and a toothy grin replaced his scowl. He leaned one arm on the doorframe - his bicep flexing with the movement.

His hair was disheveled and he didn’t have any of his significant half-unbuttoned shirts on. His chest was broad, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his golden skin glowed in the low dim light in the hallway. The tight jeans he wore stuck to him like a second skin - he didn’t zip them in the hurry to get to the door. You could see the sparse hair leading from his belly button growing thicker the lower and lower you went - you must have gaped at him like a fish before you gulped.

He wasn’t any better though - his eyes dragged over the naked expanse of your skin and as his eyes trailed higher. He was sure you weren’t wearing anything underneath that flimsy robe. A peak of the soft flesh of your breast caught his attention as he absent-mindedly licked his lips, catching his tongue between his teeth - only a sliver of the pink flesh poking out of his mouth.

“Came to take me up on my offer, mariposa?” You wanted to wipe the self-assured cocky smile off his face.

He never really said the “offer” out loud but you knew what he had in mind. Now even more so. After a few weeks at the embassy, you heard rumors about Peña, about his reputation, about who he was. You tried to pay them no mind.

“No, Javier.” The way his name sounded falling out of your mouth was his absolute favorite thing. “Just keep it down, would you?”

You didn’t wait for his answer - turning on your heel and he watched your ass sway before you closed the door of your apartment.

He fucked the girl that was in his place harder than he ever fucked anyone in his life that night.

So that you knew what you were missing.

The way you glared at him the next day was definitely worth it.

But you also knew Javier - how he cared for those who were close to him, how the only thing he “ate” all day was coffee and so you had to almost shove any form of food into him - not that he minded - how his eyes crinkled when you cracked one of your stupid jokes that weren’t even that funny - he seemed to think otherwise.

So you were somewhat friends. You went out to drink away your thoughts, sorrows and feelings together. An unhealthy coping mechanism that you seemed to learn from Javi after the first year and a half you spent in Colombia.

You always went into that one filthy bar - quiet but with a sticky floor with not a lot of people around - somehow, Javier always found a girl that he would take home that night in it still. He was tall, broad, charming, he knew the way around with ladies - compliments forming and falling easily off his silver tongue. They seemed to be pulled towards him by his sheer presence in the room. He didn’t even have to try.

You hated the way your heart tightened in your chest whenever a pretty woman caught his attention - he always quickly stubbed his cigarette down with a quick apology that he’d be right back. His walk was confident and self-assured, his body language lose when he talked to them.

To make things worst he always had this soft look in his eyes when he asked if you were okay with him leaving. Oh, his brown eyes that always looked at you with such curiosity and interest. Those eyes made you feel like you were in another world. Looking into them - looking into those prettiest brown eyes, the eyes that you loved the most - made you feel like dying and feeling alive at once.

Even when some of them almost pulled his arm off as they tried to get him out and to wherever they would get more acquainted with one another, he still waited for your answer. Every time, you offered him the same tight-lipped smile and quick nod as you shooed him off. The imprint of his smile he always offered you in gratitude felt like a punch to the gut - as if he broke all of your ribs to get to your heart and squeezed until no blood remained in it after it stopped functioning completely.

But even if you wanted to give in - learn and feel his touch, find out if the girls were faking all of the moans and gasps or if he was really so skilled - you never dared to. Refusing to become another woman who would have to leave eventually and never look back. You wanted more than that. Because you knew Javier.

And you wanted all of him, not just a piece that he would offer and then rip it from you.

So you never acted upon the feelings you developed over the years - staying somewhat friends with the Texas man would have to be enough. Had to be.

Things changed after almost two and a half years. After he came late at night knocking on your apartment door and you sleepily opened it - the tiredness leaving your body as your eyes widened at his state. He was drunk - that was clear. He hiccuped and stumbled into your place when you opened your door wider.

There was no exchanging of words that night. He planted face-first onto your couch and fell asleep almost immediately - his soft snores filling the silent room. You draped your favorite light blanket around him that night - the one your sister gave you as a Christmas present. Javier always made fun of it. It was an ugly thing really - she said that it was compensation for an ugly sweater as she couldn’t find any. And yes, it was hideous - it looked like it just came from some dumpster - but you loved it nonetheless.

Something changed between the two of you the next morning. When you came into the living room he was still lounging on your small couch - his long legs dangling from the edge of it. You laughed as he groaned, his eyes tightly shut, one of his arms draped over his forehead. When he slowly sat up his head spun and he mumbled something about “never drinking again” - you laughed some more at that.

You didn’t ask why he drank so much - you knew it was because of something more serious than just simply wanting to get shit-faced. If he wanted to, he’d tell you. Eventually.

You passed him some painkillers for which he offered you a grateful smile - throwing his head back as he swallowed them. The only thing that could be heard in the room was the coffee machine as you stared at each other. He looked different in the morning - peaceful, soft. Things he didn’t want anyone to see.

You cleared your throat, saying that you will quickly hop in the shower while he can choose what are you two going to have for breakfast - the book you’ve written your favorite recipes in kept on the lowest shelf in the kitchen cabinet right above the stove. You were stocked with all sorts of ingredients as you like to cook a lot. He nodded as he watched you softly shut the door behind you.

The recipe book was old and rusty - the pages of it covered in smudges, the corners of them sometimes torn off. He wasn’t sure if it was yellow because it came in that color or if the was white before and it just yellowed over time. He flipped the pages quickly - honestly, he’d eat anything you’d cook as he often said you should have opened your own restaurant and not waste your time behind the desk. You always brushed these comments off with a small smile. A dried-up rose layed between the pages. He softly grabbed it and inspected it - his heart lurching into his throat when realization dawned on him. He gave you the rose. A long time ago.

Steve always bought Connie a bouquet of flowers every Friday -a habit he kept even after all the years spent with her. It was sweet, really. Romantic. You eyed the different flowers - a small flicker of yearning danced in your eyes. Javier noticed. Of course, he did. One day he came over to your desk, one of his hands behind his back and you threw him a curious look before he brought the single white-petalled rose in front of your face. The big grin you gave him and the quiet “thank you, Javi. I love it” made his entire week.

So he didnn’t know how long he had been standing there - the tip of his fingers delicately brushing over the dried-up white petals until you called his name, coming over to him.

“You kept it.” You threw him a confused look, your eyes widened when he backed you up against the kitchen counter - the small of your back hitting the edge of it. He caged you in, his hand coming to lay on the counter next to your side, the other one showing you the rose and you gulped.

“Yeah, I kept it.” You whisper and something in his chest shifted back then, his eyes softening. You held your breath when his chest brushed up against yours, his nose almost bumping with yours. You could see every freckle on his skin, his long eyelashes, the curve of his nose. Your lips nearly touching.

And then the phone rang and he closed his eyes in irritation, taking a deep steadying breath. He moved away from you and you slipped away from him quickly- your heart almost jumping out of your chest. You picked it up with shaking hands, looking over at Javier who put the rose back into its place.

“Hey, Steve. Yeah-yeah, I’ll be there in ten. Yeah, I will go over to Javi’s to kick him out of bed. See you.”

His jaw ticked when you hung up. He was going to kill Murphy.

He stopped seeing every and each of his lady friends after that day. If he wanted any information he’d meet them on neutral ground - sometimes offering to buy them a drink or two. But nothing more. He stopped picking up random girls at the bar too.

And somehow, he felt happy. Mind shockingly happy - like a kid that wished really hard for a present under the Christmas tree and got it. He cared for you - the realization hitting him in the back of the head like a fucking bullet. And you cared for him - took care of him, fed him and made him feel fucking alive and happy and thriving. You were the one that got drunk with him and never asked questions, and listened. You had to feel something if you kept the stupid rose after the years. Right?

But Javier overthinks things easily and just as easy as it was to imagine somehow a happy and safe future with you, it was just as easy to imagine scenarios - where in every one of them - he was the jackass who’d hurt you. And he couldn’t have that. No, no, no.

So he keeps his distance - still talks to you and keeps being friendly, but neither of you talks about the morning when you almost kissed. You were confused and hurt. He played with you but you couldn’t be angry at him. He never tried anything again after that on you. Even though this thing you two had between you kept simmering under the surface and he tried to ignore it. As have you.

But Javier is just a man - impulsive and quick to jump to conclusions. When he sees red? He acts. And right now he sees red as you talk to one of the other agents - he can hear your soft laugh and can see the way you grip the man’s arm as you laugh some more. What is even so funny? The muscle in his jaw ticks as he grips the edge of his desk tighter in his hold and Steve wants to laugh at his partner.

He takes pity on him and when he stands up he places one of his big hands on Javier’s shoulder which he wants to shrug away -his gaze lingering on you.

“You should ask her out, Peña.”

Javier almost breaks his neck with the speed he looks at Steve. Did he hit his head? Since when is he telling him what to do with women? Javier scoffs - an ugly twisted snarl adorns his lips. Like a wolf barring his teeth to its prey.

“Since when do you tell me what and what to not do when it comes to our lady co-workers?” Steve sighs and squeezes Javier’s shoulder tighter making his dark-haired partner look at him.

“We both know she isn’t just a co-worker to you, Peña.” He hisses at him, the grip on his shoulder loosening. “Now go ask her out before someone else will.”

And maybe it’s the first time in his life that Steve is actually right. He was fucking exhausted of playing this game of cat and mouse with you.

Javier’s legs act quick and his mind can’t seem to catch up with his actions before he is standing at your desk. When he arrives the other man bids you a quick goodbye before he scatters away under Javier’s intense gaze.

“Do you need something from me, Javi?” You offer him a small smile - so different from the first time you two met and he thinks: “yeah, you”.

His tongue sits heavy in his mouth and just now he finds out he actually doesn’t know how to do this. This dating thing. For fuck’s sake he hasn’t been on a date since Lorraine and he is getting old. Should he bring you flowers first? Should he ask you out with a note like in high school? Should he-

“Javi, you okay?”

Man up, Peña.

He scratches the back of his head before he blurts out:

“Go out with me.”

He says it so quickly that you are sure you heard him wrong but the tip of his ears are a darker shade of red and he stares at you expectantly. You gape at him like a fish - your mouth closing and opening but no sound comes out of it. He sighs and this time he says it slower, his dark eyes boring into yours as he reaches to grab your small hands in his.

“Mariposa, I’d like nothing more than if you’d go out with me. Like…on a date.” His palms are sweaty and he gulps seemingly nothing. He is nervous. It’s cute. That this big bad agent that chases narcos left and right is nervous about asking you out. You grin as you squeeze his fingers in yours.

“I don’t know, Javi. This seems so sudden and I am not sure if that’s the best idea. With us being colleagues and all.” You try to hide your grin as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“Mariposa, I swear I will make it worth your while. Just give me a chance. Please? I will-“ You break when you see his pleading eyes.

“Javi, I was just kidding. I’d like to go out with you. You are a scaredy cat when it comes to these things, aren’t you?”

He offers you a sheepish smile, his eyes glowing.

“Kind of. So please, try to be patient with me, yeah?”

“Of course.” You throw him a reassuring smile. Yeah, he could do this. With you.

He looks around before he brings your hands towards his lips - kissing them and he grins against them when he sees how you blush.

“Tonight at eight sounds good?” He offers as he pulls away from you.

“Sound perfect, Texas.” His grin spreads wider, his cheeks hurt and his heart hammers in his chest.

He owes Steve.

For someone who dreamt about being asked out by Javier you are unprepared. You never expected that he would ever actually make a move on you - not counting the sexual ones. You can’t wipe the smile off your face for the rest of your shift. You beam at Javier when passing by him to get home and he throws you a sultry wink - his knuckles resting on his desk as he looks through the documents. Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t quip anything as Javier watches you leave.

He had a date tonight. With you. Stating that he was nervous and giddy at the same time was an understatement. He felt a like a teenager expecting his first kiss. It felt strange and absolutely addicting at once.

When you arrive home you take a quick shower - Javier always said that you smelled like coconuts and one time you saw him secretly glancing into your bathroom to see what kind of shampoo were you using.

The water is scorching hot and it soothes your muscles and nerves. You scrub all the stress from your body and scurry into the bedroom when you are done - the droplets of water falling onto the floor as you don’t even bother to dry yourself off.

Your bedroom is a big space - the same as Javier’s and Steve’s and anyone who lives in the same apartment building as you, really. You open your closet which was built by Javi and Steve - both of them complaining “why the fuck would you need such a big closet if you live alone” and as you replied “because I like them big” Javier choked on seemingly nothing sending you a quick glare, his Adam’s apple bobbed and it seemed he started sweating even more after that.

You and Connie watched as they argued because, of course, neither of them needed the instructions. Glass of wine in your hands.

It was a pretty closet - cheap as someone bought it and it was too big to fit into their living space and they wanted to get rid of it. Made from mahogany wood, the doors of it had two birds on each side carved in it. Vintage and fitting into your bedroom - you even got a carpet with it for free, the one you were currently standing on.

As you pondered on what to wear you suddenly realized you didn’t know where was Javier taking you. Dancing? On a dinner? To a bar just for drinks? After a while of just checking through your wardrobe you decided to wear a sundress - it was too hot, even at night, to wear anything else, to be honest. It was a light green color - patterned with white flowers and the seam of it reached just below your knees. Backless with long sleeves. Cheeky but modest. Your mouth quirked upwards as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

A knock echoes through the apartment and you look at the watch in the kitchen when coming to answer the door -precisely seven. When you open the door your breath hitches.

Javier stands there with a bouquet of white roses - his face hidden behind them. He has his leather jacket on, his signature tight jeans on but you’ve never seen the pink shirt on him before. It suits him. He peaks at you through the flowers and his jaw sets - his eyes raking up and down your form, multiple times before he passes the roses to you.

“Thank you, they are beautiful, Javi.” You get an instant response, his hands now in his pockets.

“You are beautiful, mariposa.” His baritone raspy. He was used to you were pencil skirts, blouses, jeans and shirts when you went out. Never has he seen a dress on you even after three years. He prayed to all saints out there that you would wear only dresses from now on.

You flash him a grin before you quickly disappear inside to throw them into a vase. He has to clear his throat when he realizes that he can see the whole expanse of your back - the swell of your ass disappearing under the fabric but if the cut would be a little deeper he could definitely see that as well.

“Wear some comfortable shoes. I am gonna show you the beauty of Bogotá tonight.”

You link your arm with his as you softly shut the door.

You talk and laugh and jab at one another. The cool night air makes you shiver - you thought it would be a lot warmer than this. Javier drapes his jacket over you even as you fuss that he doesn’t have to.

You walk - it could be miles - but you don’t really pay it no mind as times fly by. You pass the few spots Javier wanted to show you - a pretty lake that reflected the moon shone under its light, looking like a silver liquid- a few daisies growing near it and you picked them, and after a while Javier even allowed you to put one behind his ear after you pleaded him. The spot where they served the best arepas in the city - Javier said so - and you had to agree as both of you munched on them, comfortable silence falling over the two of you.

It wasn’t awkward as you thought it might have been - you know a lot about each other but somehow you still find new things to talk about. You learned that he liked to paint when he was younger and enjoyed horseback riding with his pops. That he was mama’s boy - his tone softening as he talked about her. You squeezed his hand, telling him it was okay if he didn’t want to talk about it. But he did. Somehow, he wanted you to know everything about him. You took everything he gave and never wanted more and he felt at peace when with you. You found out that he grew up on a ranch and that he was a dog lover - he had a border collie that followed him everywhere when he did his morning chores - feeding the chickens and such.

The final spot of the day’s date was a pretty place with a view from which you could see the whole Bogotá, surrounded by trees and his truck parked there

Both of you lean against the hood - you pull his jacket around you tighter. It smells like him and you realize that after the years you don’t mind the smell of cigarettes. It’s soft and warm and it feels entirely like him.

“So, will you ever tell me about your little Texas boyfriend?” He cuts off the silence with his question and you cock your head to the side.

“Since when do you know I had Texas boyfriend?” He shrugs his shoulders as he brings the cigarette to his lips - blowing the smoke away from you.

“You told me the first time we’ve seen each other. You said that you will not fall for my Texas charm - “been there done that”. He quotes and you laugh breathily. He stubs the cigarette under his foot. The gravel under him crunches.

“You remember that?”

“I remember every little thing you say to me, mariposa.”

The air thickens with his confession as you look into his eyes. He is gorgeous under the dim moonlight. His hair blows in the soft wind. You reach to take the daisy from behind his ear and twist it between your fingers. The contact your skin makes with his when you reach behind his ear results in goosebumps erupting all over his body.

“I think a talk about ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends is more suited for a second date. Don’t you think?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“You want to go on a second date with me?” It surprises him - really. He expected…he actually doesn’t know what he expected but second date wasn’t it. He ignores the way his heart skips a beat.

“Yeah, don’t you?” Your eyes are hopeful and he doesn’t understand how you could think he wouldn’t want to go on another date with you.

He was smitten with you from the first time he laid his eyes on you. With your sharp tongue and wicked sense of humor, and how you love to call him out on his bullshit, how your nose wrinkles when you laugh and you throw your whole body forward - always needing to bang your hand against something, whether it was your thigh, table, his shoulder.

“I’d love to.” You grin and he mirrors it before you lean away from the hood as does he. It’s late and you are tired - even though you do not want this night to end. You yawn and Javier claps his hands together as he opens the door of the car you.

The car ride passes in comfortable silence as you keep sneaking glances when you think he isn’t looking.

You look at his sharp jawline and aquiline nose, his hand that grips the steering wheel - watching how he drums his long thick fingers against it and you lick your lips as you trail your eyes over the veins on the back of his hand. You take a sharp intake of breath as he places the other hand on your thigh after a while. You look at him but he doesn’t even glance at you, you can see how he becomes tense and when you don’t push his hand away he relaxes again, his thumb stroking idle circles on top of your covered flesh.

It passes quickly and before you know it you are outside the door of your apartment and he is pulling you closer by the small of your back. You put a finger on his lips when it looks like he is ready to kiss you senseless and you giggle, grabbing him by the chin and you turn his head to the side.

“I don’t kiss and tell on the first date, Peña. You will have to work for it.” You whisper against the skin of his cheek and his grip on you loosens as he feels the ghost of your lips against his flesh before you kiss him under the hinge of his jaw. The kiss imprints into the core of his bones.

Before he can say or act you are already closing the door of your apartment - he can hear the giggles that leave your mouth behind them. The muscle in his jaw ticks, his hands ball into fists as he stares at your door.

Seconds pass. Minutes. Maybe hours. He isn’t sure as he seems to be glued to the spot outside of your door.

When he finally moves he closes the door behind him forcefully. He feels so fucking worked up. And you didn’t even touch him. What were you doing to him? For fuck’s sake.

He stumbles into his place as he tries to tear his jeans from him. He fumbles with the zipper and button of his jeans and falls onto the couch as he quickly tries to undress. The jeans are thrown somewhere behind him and he tugs at his cock a few times, hissing as he swipes his thumb across the sensitive head - a spurt of precum falling out of it. He tries to imagine your small hand around his cock. Your slender fingers gripping him and pumping him from all he has. He groans when he squeezes the base of him and he thinks of how you looked tonight.

All pretty and soft when he held your hand in his. His brows furrow when he thinks of how your skin heated up under his touch when he placed his hand on the small of your back. How your dress showed all of your curves and how you laughed - your nose wrinkling. His movements speed up, he concentrates on how you smelled and moved. He thinks how you wouldn’t be able to grip all of him in your small hand - would you try to put all of him in your mouth or would you just suck and lick the tip of him while you would pump the rest of him? The roughness of his own hand isn’t ideal and it is hard to imagine your softer one - his eyebrows furrowing even more so as he concentrates, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth.

And fuck, you care for him. You truly care for him. You listen - really listen- and let him talk your ear off. You never judge him. And that’s why he is so fucking attracted to you. Because Javier just wants someone who will care for him and provide him with not only physical but also psychical comfort. And you are that someone.

He groans, his head thrown back as the pleasure builds in the pit of his stomach - twirling up the column of his spine. He is not quiet and his eyes roll into the back of his head when he hears the squelching sound of his hand stroking his cock - pretending that it was your pussy making the noise while riding him. He smears the precum around his cock - the glide over the hard hot flesh easier. He thinks about how would you sound screaming his name and a needs curls in his belly - primal and hungry. He finds a steadier and firmer pace and the muscle on his forearm and bicep flex with each stroke.

He is covered in a thin sheen of sweat and he feels he is so fucking close - so close - his eyes tightly shut. The pleasure builds and builds - liquid warm and full of aching desire for you growing with each slick movement of his wrist. Long smooth strokes are deliberately made, his thumb running over the head, his grasp tightening on the base of his aching cock. His muscular thighs lift off the sofa, the muscles underneath his softer belly pull tighter with each second as he fucks up into his fist. His feet are firmly planted on the couch and he pretends you are there with him - on top of him, riding him as he pinches and explores, gropes and holds every inch of your body.

His balls pull tight and his cock twitches in his hand a few times before he is cumming with a string of spanish curses and your name falling out of his mouth. He keeps up the pace until he is too sensitive and he lets go of his slowly softening cock - his hand sticky with his own release as is his shirt. The back of his head collides with the soft cushions and he opens his eyes to look at the ceiling. Bringing his hand in front of his face, he watches how his spend dribbles down his wrist and his forearm - if you were here he’d tell you to lick him clean. He waits before his breathing calms down and then he slowly sits up.

And fuck, he was in big trouble. What were you doing to him?

The second date comes around not even a week later - flirtatious looks and fleeting touches scattered throughout the week when you pass each other at work. Steve rolls his eyes at the two of you but he is honestly happy for you and for Javier too. You are his friend and after your first date Steve cornered his partner, jabbing his finger into Javier’s chest as he told him to “not fuck this up”.

This caused Javier to become defensive, saying he would never dare to even try - but under no prying eyes he was so fucking afraid. Because he was him - he left his bride at the altar for fuck’s sake and the worst thing was he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to meet you.

And he never ever felt this way with Lorraine - how his heart seemed to start beating faster anytime you touched him or how it skipped a beat when he heard your laugh. How his skin felt like it was on fire under your touch, how all of his blood traveled down to his cock each night he thought of you. He felt fucking dirty and wrong for that - but alas he didn’t fuck anyone for over half a year and he was touch-deprived, your soft touch lingering in the back of his mind as he stroked himself.

He was terrified he would fuck something up sooner or later. And you noticed it - how he seemed lost in his thoughts anytime he spend time with you, your touch on his hand pulling him back into reality. You caressed his knuckles and he smiled - a real genuine smile on his lips.

“What’s bothering you? You know you can tell me, Javi. That’s if you want to, of course.” The way you offered him a soft smile made him want to kiss you right there and then.

Because yeah, he knew he could tell you anything. You wouldn’t look at him weirdly, you wouldn’t judge him. You would sit and listen and after he’d be done talking, you would tell him your honest opinion. He rubbed your fingers that were on the back of his palm with his other hand.

“I-I am afraid, mariposa. I am afraid I will fuck this up and you will never want to talk to me again. And that would break me.” He whispered, the words meant to be heard for your ears only and your heart jumped when you saw the concern in his eyes before he looked anywhere but into your eyes. Because in reality Javier Peña was a big softie deep in his core and it was sweet how he tiptoed around this thing you had between the two of you - afraid that he would break it. Break you.

“Javi.” You said in a serious tone and he met your gaze, his breath hitching when he saw how serious you looked at him, your eyes filled with adoration. For him. “We are both adults. And it is most likely one of us will fuck something up down the road. But we will try to repair whatever damage will be made. That’s how relationships work.” You shrugged your shoulders, pulling your hands away from his as one of your colleagues passed by.

He grinned. You called it a relationship. He thought it would make him scared - putting labels on whatever was going on between you. That maybe he would run for the hills because he never wanted anything serious after Lorraine. Afraid of commitment. Afraid of his own feelings. But he didn’t. He felt fucking happy. You two were at the beginning of your relationship.

“You are right, mariposa.” He laughed as you quipped “as I always am.” “I will pick you up tonight. At eight?”

“Sound like a date, Peña. Where are you taking me this time?” He grinned, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards and he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Wear another dress tonight. You looked beautiful the last time.”

“You like me in a dress, Javi?” You fluttered your eyelashes innocently at him and he felt a growl building in the back of his throat as he leaned closer to you.

“You have no idea how much. Makes me hard as a fucking rock.” He left with that and as he turned around he had to hide the teasing smile on his lips as he saw your shocked expression.

Oh, but you had an idea how much. After all the walls of your apartment were thin.

You decide to wear one of your more revealing dresses - the one in a dark shade of red, tight around your body with thin straps that held it in place, the seam of it just reaching just above your knees. It makes your breasts look absolutely wonderful. A touch of red lipstick completes the look.

A knock echoes through your place and again - he is right on time. When you open the door a single rose in his hands greets you but you don’t care about that right now as you admire his look. He swapped the tight jeans - which you loved - for looser black dress pants which highlighted his narrow waist. He has a nice pair of black shiny dress boots on, his black shirt more loose than the ones he wore for work - of course, a few of the top buttons of it unbuttoned. He looked good enough to eat and you have the urge to lick the few salty droplets of sweat rolling down his torso.

He eyes your figure shamelessly and almost chokes when he sees the dress you are wearing. It hugs you in all the right places and his fingers itch to touch you, your fingers brushing against his as you take the rose from him making a surge of electricity pass through his nerves. The red lipstick you are wearing just compliments your look. You look like sin itself. And he makes it his mission that tonight the red lipstick will be smeared all over him. He clears his throat as he offers you a quiet “You look absolutely gorgeous, mariposa” and you thank him, his hand on the small of your back - as his urge to touch you wins over him. He leads you towards his car, his eyes trailing to your ass.

“So, where are we going tonight?” You ask when you are sitting in the passenger seat and he grins, his hand automatically falling on your thigh, the tip of his fingers dancing across your sensitive skin.

“You like dancing?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Depends. When I have a good dance partner then yes.” You challenge and his head falls back as he laughs bitterly - as if offended. The grip on your thigh tightens.

“Don’t worry. I know how to move my hips, mariposa.” He winks as he starts the engine.

The drive is spent in you two talking about your past relationships as you promised him on your last date. You tell him about your Texas boyfriend - your college sweetheart. He was a sweet boy, a little shy and he didn’t like to engage much in social events. You were the one who approached him first when you saw him looking at you at all times during one of the classes you had together. He stammered and blushed when you asked him out but agreed and he loosened up after a few months of you two dating - his Texan charm slipping on the surface. You tell him about how he smooth talked you into visiting his uncle who had a ranch. He took you horseback riding. You do leave out all of the spicy details though. Javier’s brows furrow in confusion - it seemed like you were totally in love with each other from your talking, so he didn’t understand why you broke up. A quick “ah” follows when you explain that he fell out of love with you. You stayed friends but eventually, both of you parted going your separate ways. Back then you were still bitter about your break up even if it wasn’t his fault. Things like those happens. But you know, love blinded you and the rage you felt sat heavy in your heart for a long time.

And in return, Javier tells you about his girlfriends and to your surprise there weren’t many. A few flings here and there - kissing behind back of his house, exploring but neber doing anything more - before he met Lorraine during high school. His high school sweetheart. They both were the talk of the town when they announced they were getting married. The sweet, handsome and hard-working Peña boy and the perfect Lorraine who seemed to be adored by everyone. She was the one who taught him a lot of tricks when it came to sex. You listen as he tells you about how he left her at the altar - it didn’t feel right and Colombia felt like a place where he could make some kind of change. Not that he made any after the years spent here. You scold him with a quick “hey”, your hand shooting to grab his hand that rests on your thigh.

“Don’t bring yourself down, Javi. You are a great agent and an even greater man. Even if you don’t believe so.” He throws you a crooked smile, his pulse going from zero to a hundred because of the way you look at him. As if he was worth looking at. He brings his lips to kiss the back of your hand.

“So, tell me; why did you give me the nickname ´mariposa’?” you ask and the mood car shifts to playful and loose again.

He can vividly remember how you were so bothered that you didn’t know what it meant and asked him about it constantly. He teased you and each time you asked - because you could tell he wasn’t telling the truth - he told you something different. It drove you mad, you wanted to ask Steve but didn’t engage with him back then as much and you felt awkward asking some random person working in DEA. He lived for the way you squinted your eyes at him and jabbed into his chest with your nimble index finger as he didn’t even budge. Eventually, he gave in and told you the true meaning of it - and as of right now, you asked him why. He never answered you.

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” He asks cheekily and you huff, your hand coming to draw circles on the back of his hand.

“It doesn’t bother me per se. I just want to know why do you call me “butterfly”? His fingers drum against the steering wheel as he parks outside of a club. It was a big building and the outside of it seemed new - a big neon sign shone in the dead of the night to grab the attention of passersbys. The outside of it was made out of black bricks, and the door was made out of glass.

He turns his torso towards you - his knee bumping with the driving console while doing so. And he really does look incredible tonight - the dress pants fit as if they were made just for him and you can see the visible bulge between his legs. You look away quickly to look into his eyes but you are pretty sure he caught you staring as he shifts in his seat again.

“You remember the first time we met?” He asks and you nod - it’s hard to forget.

“Yeah, I wanted to slap you across your stupidly handsome face for how you looked at me. As if I was a piece of meat.” He laughs, his tongue poking out to lick the seam of his lips.

“Well, you looked like a butterfly - moving past me as if I didn’t even exist, your movements so effortless in those god-forsaken high heels you wear to work. By the way, I still can’t grasp how you can walk in those. Anyways. You had this green pencil skirt on and it just seemed suitable, even more so after I found out you really do wear crazy and bright colored combinations of clothing.”

They made fun of you for that - all in a good and light-hearted manner though. Not really wanting to upset you. You still remember how Javier smacked Steve behind the head when you wore a bright pink blouse with the said green pencil skirt and the blonde asked you if you were going to masquerade. When Javier saw how your jaw set and your eyebrows pulled together in silent rage he almost beat up Steve. He came to your desk later that day and told you to ignore Steve, his words of “don’t mind Murphy, he’s an idiot. You look nice, mariposa” ringing in your ears for the rest of the day.

You nod and have to agree that indeed - the nickname does suit you. He grins at that and takes you by the hand when you both get out of the car, dragging you towards the entrance of the club.

The first thing you notice is that it’s super noisy in there - people cheering, music blasting. The dance floor is a big space and even with all the people on it there are still spots where you could squeeze in with Javier if you wanted to dance. The bar is opposite the dance floor - long and more than one barman is working there, the bottles of liquor shine under the lighting that is reflected from the disco ball that lies above the dance floor. The floor isn’t sticky from all of the sweet alcohol as is the bar you frequently visit with Javier. The booths are small but cozy - a maximum of four people could squeeze in there and Javier drags you towards the empty one that is further in the back with not a lot of people there. When you sit he whispers if you’d like something to drink and you shake your head before you leave your coat on the leather seat. This time you are dragging him on the dance floor.

His hands find your hips almost immediately as the music speeds up - flowing through your veins, your ears ringing as you concentrate on the way his hips drag against yours as you grind against him.

Javier’s brain stops working - he pulls you closer to him, his hands drag across your exposed thighs higher and higher, his hands stopping just under your breasts and his touch tickles as his fingertips hover above your ribcage. He is close -you can feel his breath on the back of your neck and his mustache scrape you there, his hands gliding and groping. His hips move alongside yours and yes - he didn’t lie when he said he knew how to move his hips.

You feel him everywhere but nowhere at once - you want more and you moan when he tests the waters and one of his hands brushes against your collarbone, slowly moving the hair away from the slope when your shoulder and neck meet and he places a tentative kiss there. The ghost of his lips is so feather-light you almost don’t feel it and his other hand squeezes your hip tighter when you brush against his clothed cock that strains behind the fabric. You can feel the scrape of his mustache on your skin and feel the tip of his tongue slowly slip out from his mouth - tasting the salty taste of your skin, his blunt nails digging into your waist when you lean against him, his hand snaking to hold you in place.

You are drunk but not from alcohol - neither of you drank anything tonight. But from the sheer presence of him as you don’t even seem to dance but only explore each other. Your hands tangle in his hair and he hums in pleasure when you tug on one particular suck he gives to your skin. It will leave a nasty purple bruise tomorrow but he doesn’t care - his eyes darkening when he sees the imprint of him on your skin. You move and sway, and grind and Javier follows your lead, never once taking more than you give him. His touch makes your skin burn with primal desire for him as they skate under the seam of your dress but as quick as they go there, that quick they leave too. He is teasing you and he grins when he feels the vibration of your whine against his mouth.

He inhales your scent and his head spins - you smell like coconut and somehow…him. Sweet and tempting and he has the urge to drag you towards to small bathroom in the corner of the room. Show you how good with his hand and other parts of his body he can be, show you what you were missing all these years. And see what he was missing for all these years.

You stay on the dance floor for a while longer before you lean your head against his shoulder, your lips brushing the underside of his jaw as you whisper in his ear that you want something to drink and he nods absent-mindedly, leading you back to your booth. His hands now dip lower, smoothing his big palm over your ass lightly - the way you almost draped yourself all over him on the dance floor making him bolder. You throw him a sultry smile when he says he will be right back and he does - not even five minutes pass before he is back with two glasses of alcohol and you quirk an eyebrow at him as you see the long line near the bar.

“Hope you like gin and tonic. Whiskey on ice is getting old. Wanted us to try something new.” You thank him as he passes you your drink, your lips catching the straw and you move closer to him - his hands resting on the back of the booth around your shoulders. He splays his legs wider and you sneak quick glance at him and see the small grin - he is doing this on purpose.

Game on, Peña.

You move even closer to him, your torso twisting as your tits brush up against his chest and his breath hitches when he feels your hand land on the inside of his thigh - too close where he was getting hard. It seemed that was too easy when it comes to you. He eyes your cleavage, his eyes turning darker, his pupils blown wide as you take the drink from his hand and place it on the table, placing butterfly kisses on his neck. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands - one of them digging into the leather seat, the other stroking the base of your spine. You inch your hand higher and he should really pull it away but he doesn’t have the strength in him to do that - his throat closing on its own accord.

Your fingers quickly scatter to work on his zipper and his hand that was gripping the leather seat closes around your wrist - his lust-filled eyes looking into yours frantically. You smile at him, and he isn’t holding your wrist tight, so you slowly move his hand away, his breath speeding up when you unzip his pants and your fingers brush along his course hair that grows down his belly button. You bunch the material of his shirt and move it over his belly, he slides lower into the seat as you kiss him near the lobe of his ear.

“Want to take care of you. You okay with that, baby?” He almost whimpers at the new nickname for him that falls out of your lips. You grin against his skin, your tongue licking the hinge of his jaw and he closes his eyes when your hand snakes painfully slow towards his weeping cock - the tip of him an ugly red color, precum leaking out of it and he throbs in your hand when you take him out of his pants. He hisses, his eyes shoot open when he feels a dribble of slick rolls down the underside of him - you spat on him. And fuck, if that doesn’t make him even harder.

He is hot and hard and fucking big in your hands. You cannot see much of him in the dim light but you can feel it. He sits heavy in your palm. His hot breath fans over the front of your neck, his nose trailing over your collar bones.

“I heard you jerking off to imagines of me. The walls are thin. Did you forget, Javi? Hm?” His eyes wildly look around to see if anybody is looking your way but people are minding their own business. You heard him. You heard him every time and it makes a desire shoot down his spine knowing you listened to him.

The first swipe of your soft hand against him knocks the breath out of his lungs and you squeeze him tighter around the base when he doesn’t answer you.

“Fuck, mariposa. I couldn’t help but to jerk at the thought of you.” You smile - seemingly pleased with his answer and your thumb swipes along his tip, his hips jerking forward at the contact and you tut at him - your other hand pressures his hips to move down again. He whines, sweat rolls down the side of his temple and you lick it - his eyes roll into the back of his head, your hand moving with slow firm strokes. Just as he likes it. If he wasn’t so touch-deprived and seemingly in heaven he would have at least so much decency to touch you too. But he is lost in the feel of your hand against his, the coil in his belly tightening with each glide of your hand down his cock.

The music is loud - too loud - but the only thing he can hear is the squelch of his cock in your hand. It rings in his ears and you keep up your pace - your lips never faltering as you keep assaulting his neck and the thought of you leaving hickeys on him, marking him as yours brings him closer to his release. You mouth at the vein on his neck, feelings his pulse underneath your lips and you softly bite him there - the hand that was stroking your spine digs into the space between your shoulder blades.

The muscles in his thighs flex as he chases the touch of your hand - slowly fucking up into your hand and he feels the liquid warm need to just let go seeping into his whole being, his brows furrowing. You thumb at his head and squeeze him tighter at the base, your other hand moving to play with his balls and he chokes when he feels the feather-light touch. He opens his eyes which are hooded and he wants to look at you when you make him cum - the material of his pants is soft when your hand moves up and down. It only takes a few strokes before he warns you that he is going to cum and his fists fly to bang against the table - the alcohol on it spilling as you take him in your mouth. The wet warm feel of your mouth mixed with your tongue circling the tip of his cock has him cumming in seconds and he paints the inside of your throat with his spend. He violently twitches in you - the salty taste of him hitting your taste buds. You pull off him after he softens in your mouth and you tug him back into his pants.

“We don’t want you to make a mess. Do we now?” He doesn’t answer you, his eyes wild as he looks at you before he is bringing you towards his lips by the back of your neck - his fingers tangling into your hair.

He never imagined you would kiss under these circumstances - and he imagined kissing you a lot. It never was after you’d practically sucked his soul out. He isn’t complaining though. He can taste his release on your tongue and he deepens the kiss, wanting to swallow you whole. His other hand keeps your mouth open as it rests on the hinge of your jaw - his thumb slowly stroking your skin there. He feels desperate. Desperate to feel you. To have you. To be with you. And he tries to pour everything he feels into the kiss.

He hopes you understand.

When you part away you throw him the cutest smile -as if you just didn’t jerk him off under the table of a packed club - and he laughs, his eyes crinkling. He feels happy - that is how he always feels with you. And he wants to feel like that all damn time. When he is with you he doesn’t think about narcos or Pablo fucking Escobar and his inner demons don’t crawl on the surface of his fucked up mind.

He kisses you again. This time the kiss is softer, and not as desperate. Languid pass of tongue against tongue. As if the two of you had all the time in the world.

He doesn’t drink any more alcohol that night. Afraid that the taste of you would wash out from his tongue.

He watches you all the damn time the next day at work. The images of you last night flash through his mind. How your lips felt against his, the pass of your tongue against his cock, the soft touch of yours. He craves more, wants more, needs more.

He was shook when you finally arrived at your apartment complex and he kissed you breathless - his thigh coming between your legs as you slowly grinded on him, your fingers brushing against the smooth material of his shirt before you pulled away and bid him good night. Once again, he stood outside your door like an idiot.

He wants to return the favor. So he waits and waits on the right moment so he can pull you aside - show you that you were not the only one who could bring toe-curling pleasure to someone. He grins when he sees you enter the file room and he looks around - Steve seemingly busy with reading reports as he scoffs angrily - before he slides away. Closing the door behind him swiftly but softly.

You first hear the soft click of the door and then you feel big hands splaying over the expanse of your hips, mustache scraping over the skin on the side of your neck as he looks at what are you holding in your hands. The file is pink and thick and he takes it from you and places it in its rightful place - or at least where he thinks it was before - and you close your eyes, your muscles relaxing under his touch. You’ve seen how he looked at you today and for once, you were the one who gave him a show yesterday - being as loud as possible so he could hear. He almost lost his mind, almost knocked at your door.

He will show you that his fingers are better than any of your toys.

“What do you think you are doing?” There’s no seriousness behind your voice - he can pick up on the small smile behind it and he grins against your neck, softly pecking you there before his hands move lower, bunching the material of your skirt higher. He can hear the way your breath hitches and he grins - his tongue lapping at your pulse point, his finger inching closer and closer to your core before he turns you around. He slowly sinks down on his knees and oh my fucking god, Javier Peña is on his fucking knees for you. Looking up at you as if you were some kind of goddess and he was just a mere mortal ready to serve all of your needs. And he was ready to serve all of your needs. Your back collides with the bunch of files-filled shelves and the wood of it digs into you uncomfortably but you can’t seem to give a shit right now.

“I think you know what I am doing, mariposa. Did you think of me yesterday, hm? Did you think about how dirty of a girl you were? Jerking me under that table where anyone could see?” You moan when his blunt nails dig into the roundness of your ass as he tries to find the zipper of your skirt in the back. His gaze comes to watch your reactions as he slowly pulls the piece of clothing down your hips and bare legs as it catches on your heels and he helps you out of it. You squeal when he puts both of your thighs on the broadness of his shoulders and his head moves forward as he smells your arousal through the skimpy fabric of your panties.

It takes you a while to answer, your head spinning with the image you now have in front of you - Javier’s head between your thighs which rest on his shoulders, his wild hair in which you placed your hands in; tangling your fingers in it, how his long lashes flutter against the apple of his cheeks, his fingers digging into the soft flesh on your thighs - trying to imprint himself there. You can see the expanse of his neck and the hickeys you left the previous night - all purple and nasty looking but he doesn’t try to hide them, wearing them proudly.

“Yes, I thought about your big fat cock in my hand and how you seemed to enjoy yourself.” You tease and a sound between growl and a snarl forms in the back of his throat. What a samrt mouth you have - not for long though. One of his hands moves closer to your core and he kisses the inside of your left thigh first - his hand patting and mapping the trail of saliva he leaves with his tongue. Paying the same amount of attention to the other one as well. He worships you and takes his time - if he could stay like this forever, he would. His knees hurt under the weight of you as he kneels on the hard tiled floor but he ignores it.

You feel like you are in another world. Your breath ragged, your chest constricting as he looks at you through his eyelashes, his mustache burning your flesh in the most delicious way. You thought that maybe - just maybe - all the girls with Javier were just faking it. That his reputation was built on a bunch of fake moans and well-learned constricting of their inner muscles. But oh, how wrong you were. If he was at least half as attentive with them as he was with you right now, you had no doubt they were definitely not faking it.

“Wanna know a secret, mariposa?” You want him to just shut up and make you cum - to stop teasing you but you nod nonetheless, pathetically quickly.

“You remember when I came to you drunk? When I found the rose in your cookbook the next morning?” He murmurs as he draws patterns with his tongue against your thigh and again, you nod. How could you forget? You were so sure he was going to kiss you back then. Your lips almost touching but then Steve had to call. “I was so fucking drunk because I fucked a girl that night. She looked a lot like you and I pretended, just for a moment, that she was you. And then I went to see you and tell you that I wanted you. But this right here?” He nips at your thigh - his teeth leaving their mark behind. “Your pretty little sounds and pleas, and this pussy that is so wet for me?” He growls the last words. “This is better than any imagination I ever had. Fuck, you are so fucking perfect, mariposa.”

And his confession shouldn’t make your gut twist and fill with butterflies. It shouldn’t even surpsirise you. Not really. Because he tried his moves on you throughout the years. Multiple times. But hearing it from his mouth? That he wanted you so much that he pretended someone else was you? It makes a surge of possessiveness wash over you. He was yours all those years ago. As is he yours now, his head between your legs.

One of his hands snakes under your bum, the other trailing towards your mouth as he softly orders you to “open up” and you do - you would do anything he’d tell you right now. Two of his thick fingers work their way inside your mouth and you suck them in - moaning as he softly wiggles them before he pulls them out and in. And again, again, and again. Until you are gagging with how deep he seems to rach with them in your throat - your teeth grazing along his knuckles and he smiles; a twisted smile as if he was in pain, his nostrils flare before he removes them from your slicked mouth and shows you what a mess you made of them. Your eyes shine with lust and want and need as he drags them to your bottom lip. And then he removes them - pushes you even more towards the shelves so you won’t fall and his hand that was holding your ass moves to pull your panties to the side.

He moans at the sight of your slicked folds. His nose bumps with your clit before he inhales you all in. If he could, he’d touch himself. The image in front of him makes his cock jump in his tight jeans but this is about you. He wants to make you feel good and ruin you for any other man that would even dare to try and touch you. Because you were his - he knew it even if you never said so. As he is yours. You own him. Body, mind and soul and the thought of it hits him hard somewhere deep in his chest. He wants this. He wants people to hear and know that he is the one making you feel good - pissing off Steve would be just a cherry on top.

You plead his name - a string of “Javi please” falling out of your lips. He smiles - posessive and dark because he hasn’t even touched you yet and here you are; begging for him. All pliant and soft, and ready to take whatever he gives.

The first drag of his fingers inside of you makes you throw your head back and it collides with the wooden shelf - but you don’t feel the pain. You only feel the thickness and roughness of his fingers inside of you. His mustache burns your skin as he nuzzles your inner thigh as he watches you - his eyes dark and pupils blown back wide. He is enjoying this as much as you - you realize ,when a particular harsh thrust of his fingers makes you squeeze him hard and he moans even louder than you. It seems like he is doing it on purpose and it sends a thrill down your spine - if someone caught you here. He didn’t even lock the door.

His fingers work their way inside you - deeper and deeper, working up, up until he finds the spongy inside you. You squelch around his fingers and you beg for more. You are close, you can feel the pleasure build inside your body and when you are right on edge he stops. A whine escapes your lips as you open your eyes at him and growl in frustration. He grins and while he holds your gaze his mouth inches closer to your gaping cunt. He spits on your clit then and your eyes widen before a drawn-out moan falls out of your lips. He watches as his saliva drips down and he catches it - coating his fingers in it before he brings them into your mouth again.

You bite his fingers, the imprint of your teeth leaving its mark behind and tug at his hair when you feel the first slide of his tongue against your pussy. He moans under your harsh touch - his fingers pulling themselves deeper into your mouth and you feel the first set of tears make their way out of your eyes. It feels too good as Javier laps at you as a man starved - the vibrations of his moans making your thighs twitch.

He eats you out as if your pussy was his favorite meal - and it definitely is. The tangy taste of you hits his taste buds and he works the pink muscle into your gaping cunt - licking and exploring your walls. Javier never really was a fan of going down on someone. But with you? With the way, your breath hitches and you moan his name, how your fingers tangle in his hair and your Adam’s apple bobs with each pass of his tongue? He would keep doing this forever. And ever. He learns quickly what you like and what you don’t as he tests the waters. He is a quick learner and to your surprise - definitely a giver when it comes to sex.

He laps st you as if his life depended on it - his fingers moving with each flick of his tongue and you cry out when he puts his plump lips onto your clit and languidly sucks at it. His tongue flicking against it.

“Yeah, such a good girl. Come on, cum for me, mariposa.” He urges and one look at his state - his slack opened jaw, his ruffled hair, his hooded eyes that watch you with such an intensity you feel it in the pit of your very own being and you are a goner.

The euphoric feeling of it finally snaps, making you trash and spasm and writhe under his touch. Your toes curl and he keeps working you through your orgasm - lapping at what you give him before you push his head away forcefully as he tries to protest and give your sensitive clit a few more soft licks.

When you stand up on shaky legs he is still on his knees - his hand snaking behind the back of your thighs to hold your ass. He looks breathtaking like this - his mustache and chin covered in your release, his eyes hooded and he seems sedated, proud of himself.

You bring him to you by the collar of his shirt and he moans into the kiss you give him - all teeth and tongue, quick and he tries to deepen the kiss before you are pulling away. The taste of your own release sitting on top of your tongue and he grins when you start searching for your skirt - his eyes watching your ass as you bend down to put it back on you. The image of you in your high heels and panties will be kept hidden somewhere in the back of his mind from this time on.

When he passes by you to get out of the room first, he kisses you softly on the back of your neck before he whispers:

“Thank you for the breakfast, mariposa. It was delicious.” He skirts past you with a wink. Leaving a mess of piles on the ground behind him.

And you with a stupidly satisfied smile on your face and a hazy mind.

The third official date comes around three weeks later.

Work keeps you both busy but Javier always finds time for you. He comes to yours at night or sometimes well past midnight. Plopping next to you in bed, his hands snaking around your middle as he pulls you closer to him. And he swore he never slept better than when he slept by your side. So it becomes a habit.

It’s not a surprise to you that he seeks your touch at all times. One of Javier’s love languages is physical touch. Whether it’s just holding hands, smoothing his fingers down your spine or drawing circles on your knee under the table when you eat. Sometimes he comes sooner and you watch TV on the couch and read - to your surprise, Javier is a big fan of fantasy novels but he never actually has the time to read any so you read them to him when you two are already comfortably set in bed or lounge on the said couch- or play board games - and he has to cheat because there is no way he is so good at all of them.

Your nights spent together usually end up with you two making out - teeth clashing, lips latching onto each other, you grinding on his impressive clothed length. Sometimes it’s just a slow languid press of tongue against tongue in the early morning light when he is warm, putty and soft under your hands - the hardness of his walls that he builds up against him not yet coming on the surface. And Javier is insatiable but not only in the sense of sex. He craves the intimacy that you provide - your soft touch and sweet words as your fingers trace each and every scar, the press of your lips against them.

It’s dizzying the way you disarms him in every way. Making him feel so secure and whole as he opens up to you in ways he thought he never would have.

He feels desired as much as he desires you.

He drives you crazy - the close proximity of him makes you want to jump his bones on each and every surface in your place.

“Na-ah. I want to be a proper gentleman. So sex should come at least after the third date.” He said with a teasing smirk as he kissed your pouting lips and then ate you out on the kitchen counter.

It didn’t matter that you jerked him off on your second date. It didn’t matter that he ate you out the next day at work and returned the favor by giving you a mind-blowing orgasm. It didn’t matter that he fingered you from behind on your couch or that he fucked your throat while you laid on your bed, back splayed on the soft sheets. It didn’t matter that he had to eat you out at least once a day and it certainly didn’t matter if it was on the floor, kitchen counter, table, couch, your bed or a chair.

So it's an understatement that you cannot wait for your third date to finally happen. You are supposed to go to a nice restaurant - you’ve been there once or twice with other men that asked you on a date. But as Javi said, “I will make it a mind-blowing experience for you”. And you didn’t doubt it.

So you wait and wait, your eyes keep fleeting at the clock on your wall. An hour passes. Then two. He is never late. You are pacing around your kitchen - you tried to call Steve and called Javier multiple times. You knew they had a smaller op today, “don’t worry,” he said, “this should be an easy job,” he said. Easy job my ass. You were getting worried, your foot tapping against the tiles in your kitchen.

What if something happened to him? What if he was injured? What if he was bleeding out somewhere right now? What if he was-

A soft knock stops the train of your thoughts. Three knocks, the last one lighter than the other. Only one person knocks like that and you almost trip on your own feet as you hurry to open up the door. And he is standing there. Alive.

But he doesn’t look like your usual Javier. His clothes are drenched - the rain pouring outside heavy. It sticks to him - his clothes. His hair sticks to his forehead a few strands of it fall in front of his eyes. You see the difference in his posture, the haunted look in his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, what to do with himself. He doesn’t even know why he came to you in this fucked up state. And he wants to leave - he doesn’t want you to see him like this. But before he can get a sound out of his mouth, the hushed and broken “sorry” stuck in his throat, before he can move his heavy limbs, you are pulling him in, softly dragging him on the couch. And as before - you don’t ask. You just wait. Wait if he says something, wait if he needs something, wait if he wants you with him right now.

The realization of it makes him want to rip open his chest and give you his scarred and broken heart. Because you own it. It’s yours, if you will have it.

His body acts quicker then his mind can catch up and he is pulling you in - his strong arms winding to hold you close to him. And you don’t protest, you just hug him back, your fingers dancing across the broad expanse of his back. He breathes you in - coconut, vanilla, mango. It grounds him. Knowing that you are here. With him. Next to him. For him.

“They-they killed them. I fucked up. Fuck-“ He hiccups. “I fucked up, mariposa.” His hold on you tightens as you shush. The slow beat of your heart drums against his ear.

You rock him back and forth and he feels like a little kid again. As if he was five again and his mother kissed the bruise on his knee from when he fell off his bike. He feels wanted. Safe. Home. Neither of you know how much time has passed as he slowly pulls away from you. His nose brushes against yours, his eyes bore into yours and the mellow look you have in them makes him want to melt into you.

“I need you.” He whispers against your lips and his fingers tighten when he feels you pulling away, your hands bunching the wet material of his soaked-up shirt. You want to push him away. It’s not right. You shouldn’t. Not right now.

“Javi-“ You protest weakly.

“Please.” And that’s all it takes before you tentatively seal your lips with his. He doesn’t push, he doesn’t take more than what you are ready to give - enjoying the slow and languid pass of your tongue as you hum in his mouth. You cup his cheeks - your thumbs smoothing slowly down his jaw and his hands rest on your shoulder blades. It’s slow and sensual and neither of you is in any kind of rush. His body buzzes all over, his lungs clench - the oxygen seemingly leaving his lungs and the only thing that can make him breathe again is you. He feels warmth in his chest spreading and spreading some more when you peck his lips and you are careful with him - as if he was fragile peace of art. And to you, he is.

He doesn’t know how he got into the bedroom before you are slowly pushing him down onto the mattress and his back collides with the silken sheets. He watches your form in the dim light as you leisurely undress in front of him. His chest heaves, his breath picks up, his pupils extend. He leans back on his elbows as he watches you - how your hand reaches behind to pull down the zipper of your sundress and as it pools on the floor beneath you. Another time he would have jumped at you and pull you towards him. Another time he would pin you against the floor and fuck you silly that you would forget your own name. Another time he would make you scream his name before you would even have the chance to undress. But tonight you both take it slow - enjoying the show you are putting on for him. Tonight he wants to be the one taken care of. And you know it.

You are a goddess sent from above as you stand a few feet away from him only in your underwear. He wants to worship you as his eyes rake over your body, taking note of every dip, every mole every “imperfection”. And you are simply perfect. He holds his breath when even the last pieces of clothing fall from your form and leave you in all of your naked glory. And he seems to be glued in place before you are coming his way. It feels like a dream when your nimble fingers hook under his belt and he hears the metal on the belt buckle fall onto the ground with a clink. He reaches for you as he slowly sits up - his rough hands coming to brush and caress your pebbled nipples. He feels the weight of your breasts in his palms and it is so strange how his simple touch makes your insides burn. All of it is strangely intimate. Neither of you talks, only the ragged breaths and quiet moans that fall out of your mouth can be heard in the stillness of the room.

You push at his chest and he falls backward again with a quiet thump. You rid him of his jeans - the damp material of it sticking to him and you both laugh when you almost push him on the edge of the bed with them. It’s sweet and it doesn’t feel forced or rushed. Just two people enjoying the presence of each other, the feel of their skin, the sentiment behind each touch going straight into their hearts.

His cock is hard, the tip of him resting on his belly and he scoots backward on the bed, you following the suit. The last piece of clothing - his shirt- is gone before he knows it as you throw it somewhere behind you and it lands on the floor with a wet plop. Your thighs swing on either side of his narrow hips and your wet core makes contact with the hardness of him as you smear your juices over his length. You roam and caress his shoulders, his biceps, his chest, his neck. Stroking and teasing, and rubbing. And he does the same to you, his hands squeezing your ass before they move higher up your hips, his thick fingers ghosting over them and you squirm and giggle, your forehead bumping with his the movement tickles you. He wants to roll you over, to hover above you, to fill you up but your hands move to his shoulders, holding him tight as you look into his eyes. Your noses brush against each other and he sighs - as if all the weight from his chest had been lifted - when you whisper “I want to take care of you, Javi”.

Because yes, that’s what Javier wants. Someone to take care of him, to share his passion and hobbies and life with. He wants someone to take for a ride while they will wear his yellow aviators. He wants to take someone back to Laredo, to eventually settle down. He doesn’t want to take Escobar down and put end to all of this - retire after. And he wants to do all these things with you.

The tension leaves his body as he yields under your touch, undressing his wounds as he knows you will caress each one of his scars and kiss each bruise that is scattered not only on his body but his soul and heart too.

Bodies naked and souls bared to one another you reach blindly into the nightstand as you rip the condom and slowly roll it down his cock. Javier is big - his cock is thick and you could feel it the first time you felt him in your hands under the table in the club. When you first saw him - really saw him- your eyes almost bugged out from your head. Because you had no idea how you would fit him inside you. But you do not worry right now as you slowly sink down on him, the pinch almost too much to bare.

He waits for you to move as he kisses your neck, your shoulders, the underside of your chin. You feel like heaven around him - your walls squeezing him tight as you try to accommodate to his size. He slips his tongue into your mouth when you lift off him and then slowly -oh, so painfully slowly - sink back down the whole length of him. He kisses you more hungry this time, the kiss heated and fiery. One of his hands cups your ass while the other holds the back of your head - pulling you closer as the kiss grows more urgent, messy and sloppy as do your movements.

You feel like he is somewhere deep in your stomach, the weight of him in you makes your toes curl and the coarse hair on the base of him scratches your small bundle of nerves just right with each slide of his cock. You feel every ridge and grin of him, the tip of him hitting something deep inside you. The muscles on his thigh flex when he starts meeting your thrusts and he growls against the soft skin of your neck when your blunt nails scratch his back, your breasts bouncing with each thrust upwards. It’s glorious - this feeling you both feel. It’s not about the physical proximity right now. But It’s about everything that led you to this moment. All those years of bickering and flirting, of fighting and spending your time together led to exactly to this moment. And the awareness of it all hits you like a truck because somehow, deep inside, you knew that this would happen one day. And you think he knows it too.

The droplet of sweat that rolls down the valley of your breasts makes him lap at you there and you moan, your nails digging harder into the muscles of his back when he catches one of your nipples into his mouth, one of his hands roaming to find your clit before his skilled fingers start to draw circles on it. The roughness of his fingertips and the feel of his tongue swirling on your nipple makes seizes before your inner muscles pull him deeper, the squelch ringing in your ears before you are clamping around him - falling into an abyss. You moan his name, your orgasm washing over you before you tug at his still-damp roots and he hisses - at the way you squeeze around him, at the way you hold him.

You kiss him frantically, your tongue exploring his mouth when you feel him sob into your mouth. He pulls away and your legs lock tighter around his middle, you can feel the softness of his stomach and a sound between a growl and a moan bubbles in the back of your throat. You can feel he is close when his thrusts become more hectic as he loses rhythm, his arms somehow trying to pull you closer, his pace increasing as he chases his own high.

It only takes a few more passes of his cock through the inside of your slicked pussy and your encouring words "Come on, I want you to cum, Javi" before he is cumming. He cums with a loud moan, thrashing and jerking under you. Pumping his seed into the condom and he holds you closer, his forehead resting on your clavicle, his hands tracing over your back as a shudder runs through you when you feel him twitch inside of you.

You stay like that before he moves you off him, disposing the condom into the bin and he is surprised he can even feel his own legs. His body completely relaxes when he falls into the bed with you and pulls you almost on top of him - your legs tangle together, your chin rests on his chest as you trace his eyebrows with your fingers and he smiles at you. Because he is so fucking happy in that moment he could burst with joy.

You talk a long time after as you tell him about your sister - how she squealed into your ear when you told her over the phone you were going on a date with Javier - and he grins because if you talked about your sister with him that means that he is worth talking about. He cherishes this information and hides it into the back of his mind.

You fall asleep not long after, moving away from him a little and he watches you - you are so pretty when you sleep. You are always pretty. And his. He knows you are because he is yours.

His lips plant soft kisses where your heart is before he murmurs into your skin where it rests “I love you”. So only your heart can hear it. He is not ready to tell you. Yet. But he is completely fine with knowing your heart heard the hushed words under the ray of moonlight stream coming from your window.

TAGS: @harriedandharassed

#javier pena #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #javier pena reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #soft javi #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal ff #narcos smut #javier pena one shot

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ldrfanatic · 5 months ago

Text

this happens once every few lifetimes

mattheo riddle x reader

synopsis - reader transfers to hogwarts from ilvermorny. she and mattheo fall in love with each other at first sight.

warnings - none, i think?

listened to while writing - the alchemy by taylor swift

i have a clara bow theo one in the works right now that i'm excited to drop at some point. ngl this gif of benjamin in deadly class inspired this idea A LOT.

part two?

slytherin boys works

you waited with baited breath outside of the great hall.

any moment now the doors would swing open and albus dumbledore, who you knew only through legend, would announce your transfer to hogwarts.

it was terrifying honestly. leaving ilvermorny was indescribably difficult. but when your father got a job opportunity at the british ministry of magic, it was decided. already you were feeling overwhelmed. you'd done your research but hogwarts was much larger than ilvermorny. it was much older as well, and thus had gained a reputation over a thousand years of producing some of the greatest witches and wizards the world has ever seen.

the large magnificent doors opened and every pair of eyes was on you.

you walked forward with sweaty palms, subtly attempting to dry them on your plain, black hogwarts robes. another change. the wardrobe was much more strict here than back in america. and where every student at ilvermorny wore the same blue and gold, students at hogwarts wore colors representative of their house.

finally, you reached the end of the walkway and stood face to face with a dusty and rather ancient looking hat. to your light surprise, it spoke. a woman whom you'd met briefly beforehand, professor mcgonnagall, picked up the hat gently and motioned for you to sit on the stool.

it was time to be sorted into one of hogwarts four houses. you'd been in wampus, the house of the warrior, at ilvermorny, and despite hours of research, you couldn't distinguish what the hogwarts equivalent would be. all four houses seemed to be good choices but there was one in particular that stood out to you.

no shorter or longer than exactly fifteen seconds after the sorting hat touched your head, a declaration was made.

"slytherin!"

an older student in green robes gestured you over to the table on the far right. not wanting to sit at the very front and continue to be gawked at, you briskly walked a little further down and took a seat at the middle of the table.

once you'd taken your seat, dumbledore began to explain that hogwarts would be hosting the triwizard tournament this year. after a flashy introduction from beauxbatons and durmstrang, you effectively decided that you were not the most interesting shiny new toy at hogwarts this year and silently thanked the universe for this turn of events.

at last, it was announced that you could eat and the tables filled with food. all around you students' plates began magically creating complex dishes. there were even some dinners that held food that you were sure you couldn't see anywhere on the table.

frustrated, you stared down at your empty plate. it was a long journey to hogwarts. you were hungry and quite frankly tired of things being so different. if one more complicated situation made its appearance at this school, you were undoubtedly going to lose it.

"just think about a food you really want to eat. it can be anything."

a boy next to you with brown hair and bright blue eyes leaned over. a thick italian accent levied on his deep voice.

you closed your eyes and thought about a delicious juicy cheeseburger with golden-crisp french fries. sure enough, when you opened your eyes, your plate had filled with food.

absolutely giddy with glee, you turned to thank the mystery man.

"no problem. i'm theodore nott. this is draco malfoy next to me."

the platinum blonde boy didn't even look up to acknowledge your existence. theodore, seemingly sensing your mild displeasure, spoke up.

"don't mind him. welcome to slytherin house. riddle, say hello to our newest recruit."

the dark haired boy directly across from you who you assumed was 'riddle' did in fact look over from his conversation with a boy with a chestnut colored complexion. yet, when your eyes found his, he didn't say hello.

he didn't say anything actually. he just sort of stared. as you held eye contact, it was like lightning running through your veins and sizzling at your fingertips.

for a moment, you wondered if he'd ever seen a person before.

then, as if he'd snapped out of a daze, a gentle smile played at his lips. dark curls fell over his brown eyes that seemed to sparkle the longer you looked at them.

his large hand crept over the table until it was outstretched towards you with a kind smile.

"mattheo."

you shook his hand with a shy smile. mattheo was currently looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered. in fact, your little interaction had gone on so long that theodore and the boy mattheo had been speaking with had both strucken up conversation with other students at the table.

"y/n."

mattheo eyed your appearance. his gaze flickered across your face, then to your hair, and all over the parts of your body he could see.

"sorry if this is a little awkward, but i can't remember the last time i was this captivated by someone." mattheo finally released your hand and you had to stop yourself from begging him not to.

"welcome to slytherin house. you're in the snake's nest now, beautiful."

---

7.8.2024

#slytherin boys #slytherin #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle

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k3n-dyll · 11 months ago

Text

Taking Turns [Ellie W. + Abby A.]

||Men, minors, and ageless DNI

CW: Overstim, dom!Ellabs, sub!reader, fingering(r!receiving), cunnilingus(r!receiving) edging, strap usage(r!receiving), dacryphillia(?), reader has hair, POC friendly cus duh, AFAB reader,strap on referred to as a cock, porn with no plot, no y/n usage

Word Count: 1,032 Masterlist. Divider Creds

A/N: I haven't written in so long so please give me some grace if this is ass

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷“Watch her fuck you, baby…there you go ” Ellie coos, a gentle hand playing with your hair, her soft lips occasionally pressing little kisses to the top of your head as you rest against her. She’s relaxed, slouched up against the headboard as she holds you to her stomach, free hand gently tugging at your hardened nipple, pinching the sensitive bud between her fingers.

Your mind is completely blank by now, jaw slack, tears rolling down your cheeks as Abby’s thick fingers pump mercilessly in and out of you. Her face is buried snug between your legs, her sharp blue eyes staring up at you, watching the way your face contorts in pleasure as she laps at your overly sensitive clit.

The contrast is overwhelming.

Ellie mumbling sweet praises in your ear that you can barely process as she holds you, her grip firm yet gentle as she practically forces you to watch as the freckled blonde ravages you with her mouth and fingers. You can’t quite remember how many minutes it’s been since this started, but it feels like it's been hours, the two women having switched places three- no four times by now.

“Look at you, already fuckin’ crying and we haven’t even started with you yet” Ellie remarks, her long fingers untangling from your hair to wipe at your tear-stained cheeks. It’s not like you can help it at this point. Ever since the last switch, Abby has been deliberate in the way she handles your body, getting you right up to the edge of your orgasm over and over again before pulling away, leaving you breathless and desperate, clenching around the phantom of her fingers. Like right now. Abby feels you begin to pulse around her digits, your whimpers and cries of pleasure becoming louder by the second, and just like that her pace slows to a stop.

"A-Abs, please-" You start as Abby pulls away from your cunt completely, a string of her saliva and your juices breaking between her lips and your glistening folds as she sits up.

"Don't you want this baby?" Abby asks, the "this" in question being the ribbed, purple silicone strap resting on her hips. As she speaks, she positions her body between your legs, wrapping her large hand around the toy and gently tapping it against your swollen clit, making you twitch. You feel like you could cum from that alone. You nod your head vigorously in response to Abby's question, and the blonde just fucking laughs.

"Use your words, pretty girl." she says, her voice firm. While Abby and Ellie don't often agree on a lot of things, one thing they can agree on is the fact that your voice sounds like heaven. Especially when you're like this. It feels good to know that, but at the same time, it's difficult not to become irritated when they're constantly expecting you to speak to them clearly through ragged breaths and fucked out whines.

You can't help but let out an impatient, drawn-out groan at Abby's demand but you try your best anyways, begging for her to "just fuck you already" through labored breathing. Normally that wouldn't work, Abby would prefer to hear you ask nicely but she can practically feel your desperation, and she's just as needy so she lets it slide this once. Your breath catches in your throat when Abby's movements transition from gently rubbing the mushroom-like tip of her cock against your drooling pussy to pushing it inside. Ellie's voice overlaps over the high-pitched whine that escapes your throat at the feeling.

"Shh, shh, shh, it's okay. You can take it" Ellie murmurs, her hands still gently groping and tugging at your tits, her green eyes staring intently at the way Abby is sliding into you.

Abby pushes the silicone deep, all the way to its base before letting out a low groan as if she could actually feel your warm walls surrounding it. Her thrusts are gentle at first, but it doesn't last long before the sound of skin on skin begins filling the room, along with your breathless cries. The blonde is ruthless, but she takes her time, pulling her cock almost all the way out of you before slamming it back in at full force. Her strong hands grip onto your thighs so hard that her fingernails dig into your skin, soft grunts and moans forcing their way out of her each time the base of the strap bumps against her throbbing bundle of nerves.

"A-Abby I'm gonna- fuck" Your legs are shaking uncontrollably, the mere thought of her stopping right now almost makes you let out a sob, but she doesn't. Abby is way too focused on how fucking good you look and sound right now to even think about teasing you anymore, not to mention her own inner thighs becoming moist with her wetness with each thrust, close to cumming herself.

"I know, I know baby- Jesus Christ" Abby mutters between gritted teeth, her eyebrows knitted together as her thrusts become more erratic. "Cum for me, c'mon."

If you didn't know any better, you would think the muscular blonde had some kind of remote control to your body because you cum almost immediately after she says it, your body convulsing as your orgasm rips through you, the feeling almost too much after being denied it so many times. Abby reaches her climax quickly after, her hips involuntarily snapping forward a few more times as her body twitches from the pleasure before she leans over you to catch her breath.

When she comes down from her high, Abby pushes off of you, the silicone sliding out slowly and sending a shiver through your body. Your legs go limp against the bed when she moves, a thin layer of sweat covering your body, eyes threatening to close. Before you get the chance though, you feel a hand tapping against your cheek. It's Ellie. Looking down at you with a shit-eating grin on her face.

"We didn't say you were finished, doll" she says, gently moving you off of her so that she can stand, switching places with Abby. Again.

"I still haven't had my turn, yet"

A/N pt. 2: Thanks for reading! I barely proofread this so I'm sorry if it reads a little odd. Constructive feedback is appreciated!

#abby anderson x reader #wlw #abby anderson #ellie williams #lesbian #tlou2 #abby anderson smut #ellie wiliams x reader #ellabs #ellabs x reader #☆kennie's works

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butteronabun · 5 months ago

Text

i just want you to take me where your heart is

a diluc ragnvindr x female reader highschool au.

overview: and who could possibly be the golden boy’s type?

wc: 2k

notes: imagine diluc with his hair down in this one. and also. diluc’s father hasn’t d-worded in this au so he’s the happy diluc we all know and love before shit hit the fan ( we still love him even after shit hit the fan tho )

Diluc Ragnvindr is prim and proper. Chivalrous and well–mannered. The star athlete of the Favonious Birds. Intelligent, a leader, and a great speaker.

And of course, he’s every girl’s dream guy.

“. . . And yet, he’s still single,” Kaeya remarks with a smirk, and his friends around him laugh in unison.

Currently, he’s eating lunch with them in the campus’ outdoor park — a place of tranquility where some students prefer to hang. Instead of being involved in the hustle and bustle of what goes on in their cafeteria, be it your average food fights or impromptu musicals incited by a certain twin–braided man, said outdoor park was a better option for these lads to unwind.

“You know, I used to think that he and Jean would look good together,” a friend of Kaeya says, and they all turn to him. “She’s just like him: elegant and grades conscious. Takes part in student governments and volunteers to school events. Plus, she’s drop dead gorgeous! With her brilliant blue eyes and smooth blond hair, oh, if I was Diluc - I would not hesitate to date her!”

“Nah, I think Lumine is better,” They all glance next to their right. “She’s sporty, and she can definitely keep up with Diluc. She aces her tests without any difficulty, despite doing a part–time job every night with her brother in a nearby coffee shop, and it’s rumored that she makes the best drinks! Moreover, she’s a beauty. That’s why she keeps on receiving loads of love letters during the Windblume Festival every year, so it will not be surprising if she’ll be getting them again!”

Ah, yes. The Windblume Festival is fast approaching—now that January is about to end, in the next two weeks, Brightcrown High School’s air will surely be filled with nothing but endless romance.

Kaeya gazes up above, where a giant tree shadows their figures with its bright green leaves. The sunlight filters through the gaps and he basks into this moment of peace. He then adds playfully, “And Diluc will be busy tidying up his locker once more, because it will be filled with chocolates and letters.”

“What?! Does he even eat them? Tell him that he can donate, you know!”

Kaeya huffs, “My brother won’t even give me a piece, what makes you think he’ll hand you one?”

He remembers the time that Diluc had been so overwhelmed by the plethora of sweets, and yet seemed so appreciative about it. Father was just proud of the older son’s popularity. Kaeya offered to help him consume them all as a joke, but Diluc shook his head vigorously, saying that he shouldn’t, and that “they all worked hard for this”, and it was right that he only eat them.

How adorable of him, really.

Plus, Diluc even read the letters one by one. No matter how cringe or sickeningly sweet they were, Diluc read them all. And Kaeya wasn’t even shocked that there was no judgment in his face.

Diluc was just grateful for the gifts. Bashful, indeed, and sometimes he was not sure what to feel, but he was grateful.

“So, Diluc. Who will it be? Jean or Lumine?” Kaeya questions with a grin that afternoon, when the Windblume Festival is finally in full swing.

Diluc raises his head from the paper he’s answering — it’s a survey given to him by one of the juniors for their research subject — and frowns. “What brought this on? Why am I suddenly choosing between two friends?”

“Oh come on, you weren’t even listening!” Kaeya pouts, before sitting on a nearby desk.

After exploring the premises for some snacks and attractions, the brothers decided to stay inside an empty classroom for a while. They can hear some cheers from the outside, loud declarations of love and squeals from the majority, that surely Diluc thinks would be a delight for Kaeya, but has opted to accompany him instead.

“I was.” Diluc purses his lips, and hears laughter echoing through the halls as students run and get chased by disciplinary officers. “You and your friends were talking about the girls and I. I just don’t understand why you want me to choose. And be careful, you might fall. Don’t move so much.”

“Cooome on, Diluc,” Kaeya groans as he leans, “We’re sixteen, aren’t we? Father says we’re at that age, after all. By that, I meant, where we’re all supposed to be dating and courting?”

Diluc feels his cheeks slightly heat up from the words that escaped from Kaeya’s mouth. He returns to his duty of answering the survey. ( As if he needed to, when he was already done. ) “And I told you countless times that I’m not interested. Need I remind you that I don’t have the time for it. You know I still have to prepare for college, and that I have to keep an eye on my varsity scholarship, and—“

“Yadda, yadda, yadda——“

“Don’t yadda me, Kaeya. That’s just how it is.”

“You seriously aren’t interested?” Kaeya prods.

Diluc shoots him a firm stare. “Absolutely positive.”

And Kaeya sticks his tongue before hopping from the desk and making his way to the door. “Fine. But don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.” Diluc watches his retreating back. “I’ll make sure to find you a lady, and it’ll be your type, and you’ll fall in love.”

Kaeya pulls the door open. He confidently says, “It’ll be inevitable, Diluc. Inevitable!”

A small smile creeps its way to Diluc’s lips, finding this all amusing. “Then I wish you the best of luck.”

Kaeya huffs, not liking that Diluc seems so smug and unbothered by it, then leaves.

Diluc waits for a while. And waits.

And waits, until he blinks, checks his survey, before sighing heavily.

A brilliant shade of red coats his pale cheeks, and he buries his face in his hands.

Dating. Courting. The type of lady Diluc likes? Yeah. Diluc already has found his type.

( Kaeya doesn’t have to know yet. He hates lying, but it’s too soon. Maybe someday. If Diluc can face his feelings first. )

So, hear, hear! He’s not missing out, in spite of what his friends say.

This person is not what everyone expects; it’s not the formal and polite Jean who can deliver a speech eloquently, nor the radiant and loyal Lumine that they want to push toward his direction.

Instead. . .it’s someone else.

And that someone else dropped a bowl of soup to Principal Varka’s white slacks. That someone else triggered the anger of a certain math teacher because she climbed the roof so carelessly during class to fly a kite. That someone else got into detention and instead of writing I’ll be good from now on one hundred times, spent the day with the others in that session to tell ghost stories.

That someone else was you, who wasn’t like Jean or Lumine. That someone else was you—the you, who was his exact opposite, and yet managed to capture his heart.

You are one of Mond High’s known troublemakers, and apparently, he has fallen victim to your charms.

Maybe it began when you were just snickering with your buddies in the library despite the librarian‘s persistent shushing. He was solving his quadratic formula worksheets back then, and he was impressed that even if you were fooling around, you were in the library to actually learn more about the cardiovascular system, with the help of a fellow friend.

(“I will be proud to say that the one that carries the blood away from the heart is. . . arteries!”

“You’re right!”

“Yay!!”

“Shh!”)

Or maybe it began when you witnessed that one student who humiliated himself by accidentally slipping on the wet floor in the cafeteria, and everyone sans Diluc laughed. Then you came to his rescue, marching in the middle with all the attention on you.

You didn’t offer your hand.

But you purposefully slipped instead, and even had the most embarrassing fall. The cafeteria became noisier because of you, and Diluc, baffled at first, found himself chuckling soon after.

Actually, no.

He didn’t fall in love with you during those times. These were the times in his life that led to this one very moment—

When the Favonious Birds lost the tournament, Diluc was sulking in the playground, all by himself. He took the blame despite Kaeya and his friends denying it, but he knew better. If Diluc had just made it quickly to the ring, their team could’ve been victorious and brought the trophy home.

But alas, it was just an if. It didn’t happen.

Then, something wet drops in his hair. Then his arm. And nose. It was about to rain, and Diluc just grunted, not caring one bit. He was sure Adelinde would make a fuss about it, or his father would pester him for his carelessness, but he wasn’t in the mood to leave his spot just yet.

Let the rain wash away his sorrows.

Pitter–patter. Pitter–patter. Pitter–patter. Pitter–patter.

“Don’t match with the gloomy weather now.”

Diluc slowly lifted his head, wondering who spoke and what covered his pathetic and hunched form that was wallowing in despair. And his eyes grew wide when he saw you, almost bending with an umbrella in hand, sheltering you and him from the incoming downpour.

You smiled down at him, “There it is. Keep your head up, King! Your crown is falling.”

And Diluc’s heart skipped a beat the same time a thunder rumbled from the distance. “W–what. . . ?”

You continued, “I don’t know what got you all so sad, but everything will be fine soon! I’m sure of it! After all, once the rain passes, there will be a rainbow!” Then, you grabbed his cold and even bigger hand, and Diluc, at that split second, felt the static. You didn’t even react. But your hand was warm, and Diluc’s chest was, too.

Dumbfounded, he let you guide his fingers. It only came to him long after that he was gripping a metal handle. “Have my umbrella! I hope this will make your day a little better, and if it doesn’t. . . well, at least I tried. But I have to go now!”

You quickly put the hood over your head when the rain grew stronger. Diluc, concerned over your well–being, finally regained his composure to protest. “But what about you— hey. . . !”

He watched you run and wave, bidding farewell. “You don’t have to return it to me! It’s all yours! I really have to go, so see you, maybe? Bye!”

“But. . . !”

And Diluc. . . Diluc could catch you if he wanted. He could sprint and return the umbrella to its rightful owner, but he didn’t.

Instead, he remained in his position.

And his heart— oh, his heart. His heart couldn’t stop pounding that day.

You are Diluc’s first love.

That is established.

The thing is, this is a secret. No one knows yet. Just him.

He’s never felt this towards anyone before. You are his first.

( And hopefully the last. )

You’re different from everyone else. You’re different from him. You have your own unique methods of doing things. You have your own way of paving your path. You are the artist to your own canvas; the director of your own film.

You are like the sun. You brighten everyone’s day with your presence, and you also shine, because Diluc can’t keep his eyes off of you whenever you’re in the vicinity.

He knows that this is really an unexpected outcome – him, who was definitely out of your league and vice versa, catching feelings for someone like you.

( Someone like you who is free in life, and Diluc wants to feel that, even just for a bit, with you. )

But like before, all he can do is merely daydream and wonder about the what–ifs. What will it be like to be your friend? Will he experience all the shenanigans that you ensue? Will he also fly a kite with you? Will he get into detention?

Yet this is unbecoming. Improper. Inappropriate for someone like him—for the eldest son of the Ragnvindrs and for the next heir of the winery. He can’t indulge into lighthearted affairs or mischief. He’s supposed to be responsible and disciplined. A man of propriety.

So all he can ever do is have these thoughts. Just thoughts. He has more important matters to attend to, like college applications, training, lessons in handling the in winery business. . .

And . . . there’s no way that you’ll approach him again, right?

Diluc knows to himself that can do it instead, you know. He can approach you if he must, but . . . he’s just so shy.

And a lot of people are always around you. So who is he to burst your bubble, when you seem so finally content with your life?

Diluc peeks from the open windows and sees couples holding hands and sharing kisses. Briefly, he imagines what it would be like to experience romantic love during Windblume.

He feels his cheeks steam again.

Kaeya will surely have a field day once he sees his older brother being lovesick like this.

You really are one of Mond High’s troublemakers. And it’s not only because you prank your friends or piss off the teachers, but you make it hard for him to focus.

Just thinking of you never fails to make his heart perform somersaults.

He is Diluc Ragnvindr. Prim and proper. Chivalrous and well–mannered. The star athlete of the Favonious Birds. Intelligent, a leader, and a great speaker.

He is not every girl’s dream guy.

Because unfortunately, the girl he likes doesn’t even see him in a romantic light.

#diluc x reader #melted.butter #WRITING DEBUT!!!#listened to take me where your heart is while revising this #agjdjd i just love diluc so much #i would like to write more of this concept since i can’t draw it LOL #many thanks to all my friends who supported me for my cringe ahh diluc simping #and now i’m gonna write fics abt him #diluc writers and lovers feel free to interact with me <3

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wandanatw0rld · 4 months ago

Text

+18 | men & minor denied

beefy!natasha romanoff x pillowprincess!female reader x college!au

warnings: girlxgirl; Natasha being a boxer; rough sex; anal sex; strap on use (r receving); a little bit of praise; fingersucking; brief mention of war; Alexei & Bucky being two assholes; not propfread

b: Natasha's father comes to visit her, but their meeting doesn't go very well, and (un)fortunately for you, you have to pay for her frustration.

I think that's it, have fun ;D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, I love you too, Mom. Bye" You're sitting on Natasha's bed, notepads and books on every surface, you stop writing and look at the redhair.

"Is everything okay, Nat?" She looks at you, her jaw is clenched, her poor phone pressed against her strong hands, she sits on the edge.

"My dad's coming to visit, he wants to take a tour of Steve's gym," you crawl next to her, taking her hands off her thighs and replacing them with you.

"Is that so bad?" You hold her face, green eyes with a hint of desperation.

"Let's say my dad wanted me to be a doctor and not a boxer," Natasha didn't like to talk about her parents, especially her dad.

Her parents are both from Russia, late Soviet Union, and came to America after the war destroyed their home, the United States seemed to be a place to have a new life with more hopes. Natasha was young and didn't remember much about it, but she remembered the bombs, a whole reason why she hated New Year's Eve.

"Do you want me to be with you?" Natasha seems to consider for a few seconds.

"Are you ready to meet Alexei Romanoff?" She asks you sweetly. "One of the founders of this masterpiece?" Natasha pointed at herself in a very silly way.

"Actually, I am. But let's stop talking about your dad and talk about how much I need you to kiss me".

"I agreed," she says, standing up, you laughing as she holds you, her lips pressed to yours.

...

You were nervous to meet Natasha's father, lost count of the number of times you looked in the mirror, even though the redhead said you looked gorgeous as always. At first, Alexei Romanoff seems really scary with his bear, but he's really an idiot like his daughter. He told jokes, shared stories about Natasha wanting to be a superhero, you kissed her red cheek when the old man made fun of her blue hair.

Now the three of you are in Steve's gym, which he closed just so Natasha could show the place to her dad. But the more you listen to them, the more you're worried about Natasha's well-being.

"You're getting too big, sweetheart. And those tattoos, your mom will lose her mind if she sees you," the redhead breathes out, her patience coming to an end.

"I like my tattoos" You watch them very quietly, the way Natasha squeezes your hand and clenches her jaw makes you worry about her dad. "Dad, please. Look at the size of your belly."

"Your mom likes it".

"I bet she does". Alexei doesn't think it's funny, and you only realize that when he say it to her:

"When are you going to get a real job?" His tone is throaty, sharp as a knife, the same tone Natasha uses when she's stressed.

"This is a real job, Dad. I like working here" Her eyes glow with challenge, one more word and she'll explode.

"Yelena is doing great with me, she's really going to run the business one day".

"Yelena was always looking for your approval." You'd never met Yelena before, but Natasha always talked about the blonde with love and affection.

"Someone has to have it" The silence is heavy, you want to say something, but Natasha could kill her father with her eyes.

"Well, my class is in ten minutes, so... Let me walk you to the exit," Alexei seemed shaken, but he turned to you.

"It was really nice to meet you. When Natasha told me how beautiful you were, I didn't think it would be so much". Natasha doesn't look at either of you.

"Thank you, Mr. Romanoff".

"Please, call me Alexei. You make me feel old".

"You are old." The look in his eyes frightened you.

...

Natasha is taking you home, the fact that she hasn't said a word is worrying.

"See you tomorrow?" You ask and give her a peck on her cheek

"I don't know. I'm busy tomorrow" But she doesn't look at you.

You know what bothers her. Natasha wants her father's approval, all she ever wanted was to make him proud and not being able to do that is killing her. You don't see her the next morning or the day after, so you ask Clint if he knows anything while you both go shopping for baby stuff.

"I don't know, to be honest, she doesn't talk to me" He's looking at the dipers section in the drugstore, you've been helping him for forty minutes now, one of the professors has canceled the class. "I was going to ask her out for a drink, but she didn't answer her phone"

"I'm going to visit her at the gym today after class," you smile sweet at him. "Clint, these are adult dipers".

"God, I'm a terrible dad".

"Don't put too much pressure on yourself, Clint. These are things you can catch up over time.

"Thank you!" You gave his shoulder a good, enthusiastic squeeze.

"I gotta go. I gotta help Wanda with Billy and Tommy."

"Who are they?"

"Her clownfish, but I think one of them is female".

...

The hours seemed to pass so slowly that you didn't notice anything. You left your things in your dorm and hurried to Natasha's work. You entered, the place is quiet, there are a few people working out on headphones. You approach the reception, Bucky, another employee looks at you. You don't like him, the way he provokes Natasha and worse, his jokes towards you, they aren't funny, but it definitely amuses him.

"Hi Bucky, is Natasha here?"

"She asked Steve for a day off, she's at the arena" You turn to leave, but he calls you. "Can I ask you something?"

"Bring it on".

"Why are you with her?" See, not funny. "I mean, I know she's hot and rich, but-."

"I don't think that's any of your business, Bucky."

They march into the arena, loud rock music, The Marvels really hate somebody. Natasha hits the bag with precision, she growls with every punch, it is fucking hot. She doesn't realize you're there until you turn off the music.

"What the fuck!" You wave to her, she takes off her gloves and grabs a bottle of water.

"Hi to you too" You reache her. "I miss you"

"Me too" Her response is somewhat mechanical.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She drinks the water.

"Not really". Getting close to her, analyzing every single detail in her, sweat running down her chest, on her strong arms, the veins on her forearm drive you crazy.

"You're avoiding me, was it something I did?" Natasha keeps not looking at you and starts to get on your nerves.

"Everything's fine" She doesn't add a nickname, which means she's really mad.

There are a few details people need to pay attention to with Natasha Romanoff and you mastered them quite well.

When she's angry, she gets quiet, refuses to look at or talk to anyone, plus she listens to rock music really loud, just like it happened. When she is jealous, especially of Bucky and his aproaches towards you, her voice gets husky and scary, hands on your waist, pulling you close, and when takes you home, she makes sure of making you hers, every inch of your skin belong to her.

She was angry. In this case, angrier than she had ever been.

"Fight with me" Natasha seemed confused.

"I'm not going to fight with you" You take a few steps closer.

"Why not?" You ask, her woody perfume smells so good. "Are you afraid I'll hurt you?" You know you have no chance in a fight, you're smaller than her, in everything. Natasha Romanoff could destroy you with one blow. "Okay then. Bye, Natasha."

"Wait" She holds your wrist, her breathing at a normal pace, she looks at you. Natasha was so angry that she didn't notice that you were wearing her favorite outfit. "I'm sorry about that. Is just... Never mind, I'm fine".

"You're not fine, Nat. Something is bothering you, you can tell me," but she just avoids looking into your eyes. "Is it your dad?" The grip in your wrist had tightened.

"I don't want to talk about him" Natasha looks at your body, you're dressed only for her amusement and it's a waste not to take advantage. "Wait here," she opens the door to the arena.

"What are you doing?" You ask.

"Steve will be using the arena today. I'll open it for him." After that, Natasha grabs her backpack and drags you to Steve's office, then locks you both in.

"Nat-" She presses her mouth against yours, it's rough, your legs go weak. On your tiptoes you grab her face, her lips a little salty, hands on your waist, nails scratching deep into it. You push her onto the table, paper clips, documents, everything goes down. "You have to use me, okay?"

"What?"

"About your dad." Her jaw clenches again. "You can bite me, I don't know, just do whatever you want." With worshipful eyes, Natasha turns your bodies over and places you on the table, your legs wrapped around her waist. "I am all yours".

"You are, detka." Finally, the nickname hits between your thighs. "First I'm going to eat you up and then fuck that pretty pussy of yours," you moan, grabbing her hands and putting them over your mouth, sucking her thumb. "You're so beautiful," she touches your lower lip with her wet thumb.

"Nat..." You move your hips into hers.

"No, Malyshka. You have to stay still." Natasha kissed you as she took off your underwear, lifting your skirt just a little, her fingers dipping into your wetness. "This soaked already?" your nails dipped into her neck "And I'm just getting started" You raised your arms to take off the t-shirt, the fact that you were without a bra pleases her, but then she remembered the asshole at the reception. "I wonder if Bucky knows you're not wearing a bra today.

"No, he didn't look at me today." You know that's a lie. Bucky always looks at you, especially today, he definitely noticed the lack of underwear. You bite your lip, her fingers teasing through your folds.

"I think it's just the opposite, Malyshka," she states, her tone assertive. "When he looks at you, he wants you all for himself." Natasha's lips find a place in your neck, a finger dipping gently into your pussy as her teeth in your shoulder. "He wants to fuck you, but he forgets that I'm the only one who can fuck you."

"Nat, please." Natasha firmly squeezes your neck.

"I'm going to remind him, remind everyone. I am worthy of everything, even you" Her fingers slide over your breasts. "Every inch of you is mine, Detka. Your face, your body, this fucking pretty cunt of yours. I can wait until you come in my mouth." Her teeth clamp down on your right nipple, and she sucks hard. You drop your head back, fingers scratching her neck. It hurts, but you're both enjoying it. Natasha spreads your legs wide, her thumb teasing your clit.

"Nat, easy- oh fuck" She buried her fingers deep into your pussy with no mercy.

"You want me to use you, Malyshka. I will. I'll use every hole in you".

"Mm... So good." Natasha's tongue burns your nipples as she adds a third finger.

"Can it fit one more, Malyshka?" You nod, grabbing her fist that adds the fourth one. "So hungry"

"Nat, take off your... "Mmm... please" The redhead is all smiles now, her pretty girl is so needy. Her thumb throbbs in your clit, and you're desperate. Your breasts are sensetive, but Natasha doesn't seem to be tired of them. She'll never be tired of them. "Fuck!" You pull her close with one of your legs, toes clenching inside your shoes. "Don't stop. Please don't" Natasha releases your breast with a lustful pop, her hand bumping for the last time at your soft spot, and then you melt away at her fingers. "Nat..." You hide your face on her neck.

"Thank you, Malyshka." She kisses your cheek. "I'm sorry for avoiding you these days. I've been overthinking about my dad, but I'm handling it."

"Forget about him. For now, I'm going to come into your mouth" You lick her lips slowly.

"God, you're perfect." She kisses you, hungry, her lips pressed on yours, hands on your breasts. You moan on her mouth, they're so painful. Pushing her, you take off her shirt, throwing it with your clothes. Her breasts are perfect, all sweaty, her tattoos glowing. Your hand lands on her ass, squeezing.

She gets on her knees and puts one of your legs on her shoulder. She can't get enough of your cunt.

"Nat, just fuck me" You demand, she dives into your pussy, and begins to grind her tongue on your clit. "Fuck!" You grab her hair and yank, pulling her closer. You try to close your legs, but she holds them open, her fingers digging into your inner thighs. "God... Shit" she plunges a finger into your cunt. "Mm... Don't" You're trembling, so grab her free hand and put it in your mouth. She's watching everything with adoration, loving the sensations that she causes in you. You're mumbling nonsense, sucking her thumb, and pinching your nipples. "I'm going... Don't stop, Nat. Please, don't... I'm almost" You bite your lips, hands on her head now, her red hair tangled in your fingers, holding her mouth firmly on your pussy, she rasps her teeth in your bud, that's enough to make you come, hard, body shaking, legs like jelly. "You're amazing at this"

"I'm not to blame for your choice in men" You smile, bringing her close to your mouth, tasting you on her. "But I have a surprise for you" You watch her put down the cotton shirt, your mouth getting wet. Nothing compares to the wetness between your legs. Natasha is wearing a pink strap, your favorite. "I was planning to come to your place to use as an apology for my behavior."

"I accept your apology after you fuck me hard"

"I will, Detka" she says, her voice low and seductive. She comes closer, her hands on your ribs, thumbs in both of your nipples. "I'll fuck you so hard that you'll not even walk away from here" She pinches your nipples, her eyes locked on yours. "You want that?" You nod, your lips curling into a slow, sensual smile. "You want that everyone see your trembling walk, especially Bucky."

"Yeah" you say, biting your fingertip.

"Let's arrange that for you" her husky voice commands, sending another wave of pleasure through your body. Natasha pushes her cock inside you, lying down on the desk in a mix of pain and lust, nails scratching her arms. She comes forward, hitting your soft spot, her lips seeking yours. "You're mine. I'm fucking worthy of you. Of anything. This job." She leans her forehead on yours, her growls making you moan loud. "He will see." She's not talking about Bucky. Her hands hold your waist, nails digging into your skin. You're too caught up in the pleasure to feel the pain or the blood from the slightly wound.

"Nat, too much." Her hips don't stop, it hurts, but you're too overwhelmed with lust to care. Then she stops, and you moan in tantrum. Natasha pulls out the strap, and you look at her, confused.

"Turn around".

"I don't-"

"You said I had to use you. I'm using you, Malyshka. Now turn around" You do as she says and turn around. "I've always wanted to know what it's like to fuck your tiny hole" She bends you over the desk, deep inside you regret saying she could use you, but now it doesn't matter. "Don't worry. I'll go real slow, Detka".

"Nat, I've never done this before," you said, holding her wrist and looking up.

"It's okay, we can stop if you don't feel comfortable. I'd never do anything to hurt you." The red hair planted a kiss on your bare shoulder, her hands gently caressing your waist.

"I don't want to stop, I just..." You look into her eyes and you have never trusted her as much as you do now. "I trust you.

"Thank you, Malyshka." You bring her close, kissing her lips, stroking the red hair behind her ears, you feel her positioning the strap on your entrance. You exhale into her mouth as she squeezes a tip, nails digging into her cheek. "Fuck!" She curses, it's fucking painful, no more than the pain you feel on your ass. "You're so fucking tight".

"Nat, I don't think I'm going to-" But then she pulls everything into you, and she starts moving, all you can think is why it's taking you so long to do it. "Fuck!" Your arm encircles her shoulder, she puts one of your legs on the table and spreads it. "Right there, Nat," you feel the plastic going in and out, her hands holding you still, it's fucking good, it burns, but you don't want to stop. "Don't stop, please. Don't stop."

"I'm not going to" And there's the rusky voice, Natasha leads her hand to your clit, touching it very slow, the base of the strap lightly on her clit, then rubbing real rough while she fucks your ass. "You're doing great, pretty girl".

"Mmm... Nat, fuck, please. Faster" Steve's table starts to slide on the floor, more things fall off it. "Almost" Her hips are much faster than you think is possible, you lose control of everything, you start mumbling nonsense again, you don't know what's happening, but you can definitely hear voices coming from the arena, you don't know any of these people, Natasha doesn't seem to care, she's not loud, but she's not quiet either.

"I'm almost there too, detka" You can feel her breasts on your back, her hands pulling your hair to make room for her mouth to find your neck and her teeth dip into it, fingers entering your cunt. You know it's not easy to do it, but Natasha made it seem easy. "Shh Malyska, people will start to hear you," you can't help but moan. You stuffed your mouth with your hand, the teeth go deep. She adds another finger, but then begins to lose frequency, you feel more and more close to the edge. "I'm coming, pretty girl" A few more thrusts and you almost pass out.

Breathes throughout the office, Natasha laid on your back, hands caressing your arms.

"Natasha, are you still there?" It's Bucky. "I didn't see your girlfriend leave. Is she there?"

"Yeah, we're cleaning, Steve asked me to and she's helping me, why?" You only realize what happened when you feel her cock digging into your cunt, a slow moan leaving your lips, it's too sensitive.

"Steve wants to know if you want to join in" Natasha begins to slowly push against your pussy, you want more, you need more, your hands searching for any support.

"Only when I finish cleaning" She kisses your neck, on the mark she made. "No way I'm leaving you for that." She whispers in your ear. Her hips are frenetic. "Can you get that box for me, Detka?" But you don't answer, you can't, it's too good. "You have to say something, Detka".

"T-that o-ne??" Natasha laughs in silence, her smile playful and cocky.

"Okay, I'll tell him." You don't know if Bucky believes that, but it's too good to pay attention.

"You liked that, huh?" She raises her torso, holding your waist, her movements bursting. "Don't try to deny it, Malyshka, I can't keep my cock inside you"

"I like it" She bites your sholders, her tongue burning your skin.

"Malyshka, you're so good to me" Her nails dig into your waist, her hips bump against your butt, the strap gliding smoothly over your wet cunt. "So beautiful accepting everything from me" You feel her front on your back, her teeth biting hard into the skin of your ribs.

Natasha's fingers rub your needy bud.

"Nat... I'm going to... Fuck!" You bite your hand, the small room insanely hot, the voices of people on the other side of the door adding another layer of lust.

"It's okay, pretty girl. You can cum on my cock," the walls are tightening around Natasha's cock, she's gripping your jaw very gently, very different from what her hips are doing, she kisses you. And then you feel the nod in your stomach to undo.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Your teeth mark your hands.

Her hips slowly stop, you feel her heartbeat on your back. She pulls her cock out.

"That was hot." She says, kissing your cheek.

"I don't know if I can walk".

"That's what you wanted," you look at her, almost offended. "I'm joking, Malyshka. We'll have to stay here for a while.

"As if I'm going to leave with all these people".

You watch as Natasha goes to her backpack, grabs a towel, and wraps the strap to clean it later. She picks up your clothes, you can't move, the orgasm has melted your legs.

"Let me help you, Malyshka," Natasha pushes one of your legs through the panties, then the other. "Okay. Do you need help with your shirt?" You nod, you don't need it, but you have a soft spot for her being so sweet and helpful. You raise your hands, she helps you, then she pulls up your skirt, your shoes. "Come here, let's get you somewhere more comfortable" You hold her like a koala while she leads you to a sofa. "I'm going to put my clothes on and then put everything back. You need to rest.

"I want to help you" You try to get up, but your legs are still wobbly.

"It's okay, I can do it myself." She strokes your hair behind your ears.

"Nat, I don't care what your dad thinks. I'm really proud of you and I'm happy to be your girlfriend" The way she smiles at you makes your heart warm and race.

"Thank you, Malyshka. I'm lucky to have you as my girlfriend," you kissed her, your hands pulling her closer, legs around her waist. "Detka, you have to let me go, otherwise we'll have to stay here forever.

"I'll stay." You wanted to tell her that you loved her, but you were too afraid of being rejected or of her not feeling the same, so you backed off, you didn't want to ruin this.

You just didn't know that the redhead felt the same way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#wandanatw0rld #fanfic #x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #scarlett johansson #beefy natasha

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kiss-me-muchoo · 11 months ago

Text

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

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #corio snow #coriolanus snow #tbosas

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cowboybeepboop · 3 months ago

Text

Forbidden

"Yeah," you murmur, your voice shaky.

“Think you can stay quiet?” He questions

Pairing: Tyler Owens

Genre: smut

Word count: 3876

Summary: Tyler is your older brother's best friend making him entirely off limits, even still you’ve been crushing on him since the day you met. Without knowing the feeling was mutual. Then one thing leads to another and you find yourself almost getting caught with him in your tent.

a/n: This time there’s no cumming inside her w/o a condom 😔🙏 hope you all enjoy! Let me know if you have any requests 😝

The air was heavy as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange hue over the campground. You could feel the electricity in the atmosphere, the smell of pine thick in your nostrils. You had always seen Tyler as off-limits, your older brother's best friend, but that never stopped your feelings for him from forming.

As the group of friends gathered around the campfire, You found yourself drawn to Tyler's side. He was a famous tornado chaser, known for his fearless spirit, and tonight, he was alive with excitement while telling his stories of his adventures . His tall, muscular frame towered over you, his blond hair illuminated by the flickering flames, and his green-blue eyes sparkled with a mix of adventure and something else—a look that made your pulse quicken.

One by one, their friends drifted off to their tents, drawn by the soothing rumble of the distant thunder. You knew you should join them, but you found yourself rooted to the spot, unable to tear your eyes away from Tyler. He seemed to sense your unspoken desire, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.Tyler knew he should head to his tent too but found himself unable to look away from you. Your presence draws him in like a magnet, and the way you stared up at him with an intensity made his heart beat faster. “You’re still here,” he observes, his voice low and soft in the quiet night.

”So are you…” you trail off your eyes raking over his handsome face as you inch closer to his warm body with a shiver. He smirks playfully as you move closer to him, the chill in the air making you crave his warmth. He reaches out and wraps an arm around you pulling you closer to his body. “Can’t sleep?” He asks, his voice a rumble in his chest as you cuddle closer to him.

The closeness between you was electric, and it sent a thrill through his body that he couldn’t ignore. You shake your head in response, pressing it against his chest as you watch the fire in front of you. “It makes me nervous, the idea of sleeping alone out here..” you mumble against his body. “I'll be cold in my tent too,” you sigh softly. He chuckles softly as you nuzzle against him.

Your words make his heart flutter as he tightens his arm around you, pulling you even closer. “You don’t have to sleep alone, you know,” He says quietly, his voice a low murmur against your hair. The thought of you being nervous, cold, and alone in your tent sent a wave of proactiveness through him. “You can stay with me, in my tent.. If you want.”

Your eyes widen at the suggestion “Ty.. I don’t think Boone would be too keen on that.” You bite your lip gazing up at him, your hand falls to his thigh.

He smiles at your words, his gaze meeting yours as you look up at him. He knows Boone, his best friend, wouldn’t approve of his suggestion, but he can’t bring himself to care in the slightest.

“Boone is asleep in his tent,” He says, his voice still a low murmur. “He won’t know you’re with me.” Your hand on his thigh leaves a burning through the fabric for his jeans, and it sends a jolt of desire through him.

“Tyler,” you try to keep a voice of reason but his warm body draws you in. Pulling away from him you stand up with a stretch, he frowns as you move away from him, “Let’s stay in my tent then, I have a couple warm blankets,” you offer him your hand with a sweet smile.

“Alright, princess,” he teases, taking your hand and getting up. His frown melts into a cheeky smile at the thought of being in your tent, surrounded by you and the scent of your perfume. “Lead the way.”

He couldn’t help but find it endearing how you were trying to be the voice of reason. It only makes him more drawn to you, wanting to push your boundaries just a bit.

You pull him along to your tent, quietly unzipping it and taking a step inside. You slip your shoes off looking up at him, motioning for him to come inside as you sit down on the air mattress.

He follows you inside, ducking his head as he comes in. He zips up the tent, chuckling as you wrap yourself in a blanket. The closeness of the space makes his heart beat faster. He sits down beside you, the air mattress shifting slightly under our combined weight.

“Cozy” he remarks, glancing around the tent before his gaze settles back on you with a smirk.

You smile sweetly, finding yourself back at his side, wrapping an arm around his waist. Your tongue flicks out to wet your bottom lip. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

He smiles as you return to his side, his own arm wrapping around your waist pulling you closer.

“Probably not,” he admits, his eyes fixed on your lips, his desire for you growing stronger by the second. “But I don’t care. I want you here. I want you with me.” His lips rest on top of your head as he presses a small but comforting kiss in your hair.

"You smell good…” you mumble as you bury your face in his strong chest. You press yourself closer into his body, feeling yourself more and more drawn to his strong and warm muscular body.

He feels a rush of protectiveness and tenderness at your words, he pulls you closer as he rests his chin on your head.

“You feel good,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. He feels the heat radiating off of you, the way your body presses against his making him ache for more. “You smell good too, Like vanilla and something sweet,” his fingers run through your hair ”it drives me insane.” He takes a deep breath savoring your scent.

“Tyler,” your voice is soft and needy as you move your hands across his body. Slipping them under his shirt desperate to feel closer to him, your fingers tracing his muscles as you move on top of his lap.

He feels a shiver down his spine at your touch, a soft groan leaving his parted lips as you trace the defined muscles of his chest and stomach.

“Princess,” he growls, his voice a mix of desire and warning as you settle on his lap. His grip on your waist tightening before he moves his hands up and down your sides. ”What are you doing?” He asks, even though he knows where this is going.

“I want to be closer to you,” you press your chest against his, burying your face into his neck. Your lips brush against his skin, closing your eyes as you continue running your cold hands over his bare chest. Desire courses through his body as your fingers tease his skin, his breath catching in his throat.

“You’re already pretty close,” he teases, his voice a low whisper. With your face buried in his neck, your lips brushing against his skin, he can’t help the way his hips move up in response to your touch.

”How much closer do you want to be, Princess?” His voice is full of desire and possessiveness.

You gulp softly as you pull back, moving your arms to his neck as you push against him, forcing his back onto the mattress below you. “As close as possible..” your voice is soft, nearly a whisper, as a blush paints your cheeks.

He grunts softly as his body hits the mattress with a thump. He looks up at you with a look of surprise at your boldness, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulls you against his hips.

“As close as possible, huh?” He repeats, his voice seductive, “Is that really what you want, princess?” He flips the pair of you over, guiding your legs to wrap around his hips.

Your head falls against the pillow, he hovers above you as you look up at him with need. He watches your face, the sight of you underneath him, sends a surge of lust through him.

He leans down, pressing his body against yours, his lips inches away from your own. “You’re so damn beautiful, you know that?” He murmurs against your neck, his voice a gruff rumble. “It’s taking all my willpower to not kiss you senseless right now.”

His lips connect with your neck as he kisses up to your jaw, making his way to your cheek toward your lips before he hovers above them. “Tyler, I want you to fuck me.” You arch your body up into his connecting your lips.

Our lips collide in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth as he slides a hand up your thigh. He feels a jolt of desire run through him as you arch into him, your words and the way you say them make him lose control.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear those words from you, princess,” he murmurs against your lips. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted you… How badly I’ve been wanting to make you mine.”

With that, he crushes his lips to yours in a desperate kiss, his hands grip your hips as he presses you against him. You moan into his mouth as you grind your hips against his, your hands moving to his hair, deepening the kiss.

He groans, his hands grasping your hips tighter as his crash into yours. “You’re going to be the death of me,” his lips move to your neck, sucking and biting the sensitive flesh.

His body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with need for you. His self control slipping away as he kisses your skin. His hands roaming over your body, tracing every curve and contour.

“Mm Ty…” you moan his name, your hands moving to his jeans. Your fingers fumble with the button and zipper. “I need you, please,” your voice full of desire as you move your body on his.

Hearing his name on your lips makes him even harder, the way you were desperately trying to get his jeans undone makes him more impatient. He helps you with his jeans, his body leaning into yours as he pushes the fabric down his hips, kicking them off.

“You have no idea how bad I need you right now,” he rasps, his hands slipping underneath your shirt, tracing the skin of your stomach “But… I want to take this slow.” He grinds his hips against yours. He slips your shirt over your head, throwing it to the side of the tent, groaning at the sight of your bare chest.

He pins your hands against the bed, moving his lips from your neck to your collarbone, then down your chest. Your thighs squeeze around his sides as you wiggle underneath him. You moan as he sucks dark hickeys into your chest, he moves his hand to grasp both of your wrists, freeing the other to unhook your bra.

“Let me touch you,” you whine, your body arching into his with desperation. “Please, Ty…” your moans drive him wild, his body responding to each movement you make.

He lets go of your wrists, letting you explore his body as you please. “Touch me, touch me however you want, princess” his voice thick with desire as he pulls your bra off of you, freeing your perky breasts, your nipples hardening with the chill of the air.

Your hands shake as you trace the lines of his muscular chest, feeling the heat of his body under your palms. Tyler’s eyes darken with lust as he watches you explore him, his chest rising and falling with every shallow breath he takes. He captures your wrists again, bringing them to his mouth to kiss and nibble at your knuckles before placing them back on his shoulders.

“But first, let me taste you,” he whispers, his voice full of promise. He kisses down your body, his tongue leaving a wet trail from your neck to your navel. You gasp as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts, pulling them and your panties down in one swift movement. The cool air meets your exposed skin, making you shiver. He kisses the inside of your thighs, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. You can feel the dampness between your legs and your heart races in anticipation.

Tyler's tongue slides along your slit, teasing your clit gently before delving deeper. You moan loudly, your hands tangling in his hair as he pleasures you. His touch is both tender and insistent, making you arch off the mattress as waves of pleasure roll through your body. He sucks and licks at your tender flesh, building the intensity until you're panting with need.

His thumbs brush against your nipples, rolling them gently between his fingers as he continues to feast on you. The sensation is overwhelming, and you tighten your grip on his shoulders, urging him closer as you whimper his name. The world around you fades away, leaving only the sound of your breathing and the feel of his mouth on your most intimate parts.

You know you're close, so close, and you can't hold back anymore. You whisper his name again, begging him not to stop as the first tremors of an earth-shattering orgasm begin to build deep within you.

Your nails dig into Tyler's shoulders as the intensity of his kisses grows, his tongue dancing around your clit with a mastery that leaves you panting for more. Each stroke is precise, each lick deliberate, building the crescendo of pleasure within you. "Oh, Tyler," you moan, your voice tight with need as your body tightens, poised on the edge of release.

And then, with a final flick of his tongue, you're there, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Your back arches off the mattress, and you cry out his name as your muscles spasm around his mouth. He doesn't stop, though, continuing to taste you as your body trembles and quivers with the aftershocks of pleasure.

He licks up every drop of your arousal, savoring your sweetness as you come down from your high. His eyes meet yours, dark with desire, as he pulls away, leaving you breathless and craving more.

Suddenly, the sound of zipping fabric and shuffling footsteps outside the tent snaps you both out of the momentary bliss. You tense, your eyes going wide with fear at the realization that someone might see you. "Shh," you whisper urgently, tugging at the hem of Tyler's shirt to cover your bare chest as you pull the blanket over both of you. Your heart hammers in your chest as the footsteps draw closer, the blood rushing in your ears.

"Someone's coming," you mouth to him, your voice barely audible over the thunder in the distance. Tyler's body goes rigid above yours, his eyes darting to the tent entrance before he nods, pressing his mouth to your neck in a silent promise to stay still. You push him off the mattress into the gap between it and the side of the tent, throwing another blanket over him as you close your eyes pretending to be asleep.

The zipper of your tent unzips slowly, and a sliver of cool night air slips inside, sending a shiver down your spine. The flap opens just enough for someone to peer in, and for a terrifying moment, you're convinced you're about to be caught in the most compromising of situations. But the person seems to think better of it, muttering something about needing the bathroom before retreating into the night, the sound of their footsteps fading away.

You let out a sigh of relief, your body relaxing into the mattress as Tyler chuckles softly, finding his way back against your skin. "I think we should keep this our little secret," he whispers, his voice laced with a hint of mischief as he kisses your neck gently. You nod, your cheeks flaming with a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

"Yeah," you murmur, your voice shaky.

“Think you can stay quiet?” He questions as he moves you on top of him, wanting you to ride him.

With a shaky nod, you straddle Tyler, feeling his hardness beneath you. You lean down, capturing his mouth in a fierce kiss to muffle any potential noise as you align his shaft with your entrance. You gasp as you lower yourself onto him, feeling him fill you completely. His hands come to rest on your hips, guiding you as you begin to move slowly, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

Each time you move, his grip tightens, his eyes never leaving yours. You bite your lip to stifle a moan, the thrill of possibly being caught making your movements more urgent. Tyler's breathing is harsh in your ear, his own hips rising to meet yours as you find a rhythm that has you both panting with desire. You whisper his name as you rock against him, feeling your climax building once more.

He whispers back, his voice strained, "You're so fucking tight, baby." The tension in the tent is palpable from the passion brewing within it. Each thrust is a silent declaration of want and need, and as you move together, it's as if the entire world has faded away, leaving only the two of you tangled in the sticky heat of your secret tryst.

Suddenly, Tyler's grip on your hips tightens, and with a grunt, he flips our bodies over, taking control. You gasp in surprise as he slams into you, his need apparent in every powerful thrust. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his own moans as he claims you with an urgency that sends your heart racing.

His teeth graze your skin, leaving a trail of tender kisses along your collarbone as he drives deeper and deeper inside you. The sound of the rain pattering against the tent only adds to the intensity of the moment, the soft wetness mimicking the slickness between your legs. Each time he hits your spot, you bite back a scream, your nails digging into his back as you hold onto the edge of sanity.

His body moves over yours like a storm, powerful and unyielding, and all you can do is cling to him, lost in the tumult of passion and adrenaline that courses through your veins. His every movement is a silent command, one that your body responds to instinctively, arching to meet him as he brings you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.

Despite the danger of being discovered, the thrill of the secret only makes the moment more intense, the forbidden nature of your union a drug that intoxicates you both. Your breaths come in ragged gasps, your eyes locked onto his as he fucks you with a primal need that mirrors the tempest outside. The world around you is a blur of sensation, and you know you'll never forget the feel of him, the taste of him, the sound of his love making you his in the middle of the stormy night.

With a groan of need, Tyler pulls out from you, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your body quiver beneath him. He reaches for your discarded panties, he wraps the fabric around his cock as he fucks his hand, cumming into the fabric. "You're so beautiful… I want you to cum for me," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. He shifts, coming back to you he begins to pump his fingers in and out of you.

Your hips move with his, seeking more, more of the pleasure he's giving you. The sound of the rain outside crescendos with your cries, mixing with the rustle of the blanket and the slick sounds of your bodies moving together. The pressure builds once again, the storm inside the tent mirroring the one outside.

Tyler's thumb circles your clit as he continues to fill you with his fingers, and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You bite your lip, trying to stay quiet, but the effort is futile as you let out a muffled scream, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. He groans in satisfaction, watching your face contort with pleasure before he pulls his hand away, bringing the panties to his mouth to taste your essence.

The erotic sight sends a shiver down your spine, making your core clench around his hand. "Again, princess," he whispers, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he lowers his mouth to your breasts, his fingers still working their magic inside you. Your body responds eagerly, your legs trembling as the beginnings of another climax coil within you.

After you cum once again, Tyler gently pulls his fingers out of you, licking them clean with a satisfied smile. He then lays down beside you, pulling your naked body to his own. You shiver in the cool air, but the warmth of his skin quickly soothes you. His arm wraps around your waist, and he pulls you into his embrace, your back pressed against his chest as he nuzzles your neck.

The rain outside has turned into a gentle patter, and the occasional rumble of thunder reminds you of the intensity of the passion that just unfolded between you. His heart beats against your back, a steady rhythm that matches the soft panting of your breath. You feel his cock, still hard against your thigh, and the desire to feel him inside you again is almost unbearable.

But for now, you both lie still, catching your breath and savoring the closeness of your bodies. His hand rests on your stomach, the heat of his palm seeping into your skin as his breathing slowly evens out. The scent of sex fills the tent, mixing with the faint scent of rain and pine, creating an intoxicating aroma that feels uniquely yours.

You can feel his heart beating in sync with yours, and in that moment, you know that no matter the consequences, you'd do it all over again. Your hand reaches back to intertwine with his, a silent declaration of the connection that's been forged in the heat of the night.

Together, you listen to the calming sounds of the storm outside, while the storm inside your hearts continues to rage with an intensity that neither of you could have ever anticipated.

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kingkat12 · 3 months ago

Text

affair (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), dub-con, Roman using his powers for bad shit, angst, cheating, toxic relationship, justice for Peter omg

summary: when your ex-boyfriend shows up at your door, how are you supposed to push him away?

word count: 5,136

"No, please!-- We need to talk!"

Roman forced a foot in my door to make sure I wouldn't close it on him. He was wet from the rain, his usually styled hair sticking to his forehead as he panted, desperately pleading for me to hear him out. "I made a huge mistake," he breathed, regret glossing over his green eyes. "Could you please just hear me out?"

This was definitely not the most ideal situation to be in-- my boyfriend, Peter, had just left my apartment to go home and get ready for his early shift, so I had gotten ready for bed. And I certainly wouldn't be dressed in my pyjamas and slippers had I known that my ex would show up at my door looking beyond frantic. My mind raced with uncertainty, filled with endless questions and doubt; what was he doing here? Was he drunk? Why was he doing this now, after two months of being broken up? "You-- You need to go," I didn't have the time or energy to deal with the mess Roman always dragged back into my life, especially now that I was finally happy with someone else.

Worst of all, I knew for a fact that Roman had someone else too. I knew he was seeing some woman with long, blonde hair whom I refused to stalk for my own good, so why on earth was he here? The question lingered in my mind, but I had to remind myself about the one thing I had the answer to at the moment; I needed to close the door on him now.

Upon hearing my words of rejection and feeling the door press up on his foot in an attempt to force him out, Roman wedged his arm between the door. "Let me explain," he pleaded, chest heaving. "I just ran seventeen blocks in the fucking rain to see you, could you at least spare me a minute?"

As if that was enough of a justification to show up out of the blue? "No one asked you to do that. I certainly did not," To say that I was pissed off was an understatement, but Roman's pleading eyes were making me sick with guilt. He looked like a lost puppy of sorts, and it was certainly not helping my restraint. The hand I had on my doorknob felt like it was starting to lose blood because of how hard I was holding on-- I couldn't let him in. I shouldn't let him in.

"I know," Roman eventually said, moving his wet hair out of his eyes. "I know you don't want to see me, but I just... I needed to see you."

"... I think you should go back to your girlfriend," I started to push at his shoe with my slipper, preparing to slam the door in his face. "You shouldn't be here."

It didn't take long for Roman to figure out what I was doing, and it became apparent that he wasn't going to go down without a fight. It didn't take much strength for him to grab the door, forcing it wide open, staring down at me with a damning look of desperation I hadn't seen in any man before. "Just a minute," he breathed. "Please let me say my piece. If I don't, I swear I'll die."

I didn't enjoy this one bit-- coming to my doorstep, threatening to die if I didn't comply? I had forgotten how manipulative he could be. Being with Peter had shown me that Roman's behavior in our relationship had been beyond toxic, and I could see it clearer than ever as he stood before me now. "You're not going to fucking die," I grumbled, feeling myself grow annoyed with how he was throwing himself back into my life, completely uninvited. "Roman, it's almost midnight, maybe this manic behaviour of yours will go away with a good night of sleep?"

Frustrated, Roman tapped his fingers against the door. "Now you're just making it hard, as always,"

"And you're being crazy, as always," I mumbled, shifting my weight from foot to foot, a sense of restlessness taking over my stance. "Could you please leave? We did this back-and-forth thing months ago, I'm not interested in doing it all over again."

In true Roman fashion, standing face to face with rejection, he didn't know what to say or do. I could recognize his patterns now that we weren't together, and it was so damn typical of him to attempt to distract me from what was making me mad; "I remember those," he said, nodding toward my slippers. "Good to see you've kept them."

I knew he was distracting me, so why did it work? Sighing, I shrugged; "They were expensive... Wasn't going to throw them away just because you picked them out,"

Letting go of the door, knowing he had tranquilized the danger of getting it slammed in his face, Roman leaned against the frame in a James Dean-esque fashion. He let out a dragged-out breath, eyes rounding out; "I've missed you,"

His words snapped me out of my daze, and I immediately pulled away from the door with a groan. "Ugh, Roman, you need to go!" I turned my back to him, walking further into my apartment, my instincts telling me to get as far away as possible. "I'm finally happy with Peter, and you have no right to show up at my door just because you're bored!--" My trail of words came to a halt as I suddenly heard my door close; I knew I was fucked in an instant. My heart trembled at the recognition of the sound of the lock turning, realizing I was in for a long night. Fuck. I turned around, holding my breath, watching as he took wary steps towards me.

"One minute," Roman said, voice low and unsteady. "That's all I ask."

"No!" I took a few steps back, not daring to get too close. "You can't be here! This is completely inappropriate, Roman, I have a boyfriend! And I know you have a girlfriend too, along with a huge fucking drinking problem!"

Roman sighed, a silent declaration of his frustration. "I'm not drunk," he said, gaze falling to the floor. "I just... I've come to realize that I can't live like this anymore. I want to be with you."

I clenched my fists tightly in a futile attempt to quell my agitation, but my hands continued to shake. "That's too bad," I said, a sinking feeling taking hold and clinging to me. "I'm not doing this with you again. I'm not getting up in the middle of the night to look for you, wondering whether you're either dead or drunk in some alley. Not when I have Peter."

Exhaustion drugged Roman's movements, every movement slow, every breath. It was clear that the mention of Peter was an unpleasant reminder that we were over; his shoulders slumped, the weight of guilt settling upon them. "I haven't had a drink since the day you left me," he said, his sincere eyes finding mine. "I want to be good for you... I want you. Every second of every day."

At this point, I had taken so many steps back that I had hit the wall. It was getting a little harder to breathe, and I ended up hyperventilating-- I couldn't do this. I could still feel Peter on my shirt. Everything about this was wrong. "You need to stop," I breathed, stepping away from the wall and wandering further into my living room as I grew restless. "Please stop. Don't do this to me."

To my dismay, Roman only followed; "I'll leave her," he pleaded. "I'll leave her if you tell me to, I'll do whatever you want! I should've fought for us, I should've done so many things that I didn't do... It keeps me up at night that I let you go. I can't sleep, I can't function, I need you to know how this pains me!"

"No, I don't need to know that!" My steps came to a halt, and I pivoted on the heel of my slipper to face him. "You put me through hell, and now think you can just show up like this! Don't you think I have enough emotional baggage from you? You think I don't have enough or something, so you come here to unload some more? What the fuck am I to you, a loading dock?!"

Roman let out a harsh sigh; "Is that a serious question?" he asked, brows weaving together in frustration. "You are everything. I see that now!"

I was already exhausted from the day I had just had, and I barely had any energy left to fight with Roman. This was what we did-- we fought, we fucked, then we made up. However, this time was completely different, and it was throwing me off my course; we couldn't fuck and make up this time. But it was clear that he hadn't shown up to fight, so what on earth was this?

"Well, it's too damn late!" I groaned loudly, hiding my face in the palm of my hands. This was way too overwhelming. When the love of your life shows up at your door telling you everything you've ever wanted to hear, you want to rejoice-- not cry? My eyes burned with the tears that begged to be set free, distorting my vision as I lifted my face from my hands, unveiling that I was swimming in tears. "Do you not see what you do to me?" I breathed, sniffling. "Did you come here to drive me to tears? Do you have no remorse, Roman?"

Roman's lips parted, the worried look on his face revealing everything, his concern written all over. In the quiet moments that followed, the only sound was the echoing resonance of regret filling the space between us with its haunting presence. Our unsaid words were scattered in the air, and it felt like I was suffocating from every apology he could muster up.

"Let me be happy," I begged, swallowing hard. "Leave now and let me forget. I'm happy with Peter... Please."

It was clear that Roman was debating whether or not to comply. His conscience was gnawing at him-- I knew him well enough to be able to spot the signs. I hated how familiar he was, how it felt like we hadn't been apart at all, like it was yesterday that he had made me feel things I never knew I could feel. The feeling of pure bliss had been like a drug that Roman constantly pumped into me, making me a complete and utter junkie. It had resulted in me falling for him despite how beyond bad he was for me.

I remembered it all too well. The binge drinking that would go on for days, which often had him disappearing off of the face of the earth. His wandering green eyes used to leave me with such crippling anxiety, I would spend hours crying with a lingering feeling of nausea in my throat. He used to make me so, so sick in every possible way, and my body remembered it better than I did.

However, I could also sense that something had changed. Here he was; standing in my living room, drenched in rain, clinging onto his last slivers of hope, and I knew I was in for a good run of Roman-mania.

Of course he would come back to claim what he thought was his. Of course he'd be arrogant enough to believe it would be okay, that I would take him back, and that it would be completely alright for him to come towards me with rushed steps, kissing me with desperation that I had never felt from him before.

Our bodies were pressed together heatedly, Roman's hands on my waist keeping me in place. I could taste our shared nervous breaths, feel the thud of my heart against his, and it was all too much-- I pushed him off of me, tears pooling in my eyes as they streaked down my cheeks. "No!" I cried, my words getting choked. I couldn't believe what he had just done; my heart was actively breaking at the thought of Peter, the loveliest boyfriend I had ever had. I couldn't do this to him. "Roman, you can't just!--"

I hated the warmth that spread in my chest as Roman pulled me back in, sparks igniting in the pool of my stomach as his impossibly perfect lips moved against mine once more. I balled my fist, landing a firm hit against his chest, fighting the ecstasy that always followed any kiss from Roman. But his grip around me was impossibly tight, not letting me budge. You'd think he'd been starved for months with the way he was kissing me with hunger unmatched any other moment I'd ever shared with him, completely taking my breath away. Like this, I could almost believe that I had been on his mind in every waking moment, ravaging through his veins like a burning ache-- I couldn't lie and say that he hadn't been on my mind either.

No one could match Roman; not even my sweet, sweet Peter. I hated it with every fiber of my being.

The only thing I hated more, was that I never wanted him to stop.

"No," I cried against his lips, my fingers gripping his wet shirt, bunching it up, unsure whether to pull him closer or push him away once more. Was it maybe that he sensed how much I wanted this too that made him allow himself to continue?

Lightning struck in the distance, illuminating my apartment with a flash as my tears rolled down, mixing in with our kiss. No matter how wrong I knew this was, it felt like my soul was slowly leaving my body and giving itself to him once more; I knew I was dealing with a force outside of anything I could ever control. The love I had for Roman was all-consuming, crushing, devastating-- I could barely bring myself to fight him. "Stop," I breathed in between kisses. "Don't, Roman--"

My breath hitched as I realized my back was now pressed against the wall, and Roman pulled away barely an inch; I could feel the soft tickle of his breath beneath my nose, his fingers now moving through my hair as we breathed each other in. "Leave him," he whispered against my lips. "Let's try again."

My heart had become like melted wax in my chest, making it painful to breathe. "We'll crash and burn all over again," I breathed, feeling the salty traces of my tears on my lips. "We'll kill each other, you know this."

"Let me die by your hand, then," Roman connected our foreheads, closing his eyes. Like this, I could almost believe him, I really could-- he had actually missed me, hadn't he? "A death by you would be a death worth dying."

I felt my lower lip quiver in a sob; I wanted him more than anything in the world, and I had an inkling that he knew it better than I did. I couldn't allow myself to feel all the feelings I had bottled up in our time apart, knowing it would break me and lead me right back into his arms.

But Roman was insistent-- "I love you," He whispered it as though it was a secret he had been keeping for a thousand years. I could barely accept that this was real; the words I had wanted from him our whole relationship were being spilled out like a consolation for my pain.

I knew there was no reason for me to fight anymore; Roman knew me too well. He knew that this was all I had ever dreamed to hear, and he knew exactly how to use it against me. Unsure whether he was telling the truth or not, the emotions I had let fester deep within came rushing through the floodgates, making it impossible to do anything but feel; the love I had for him, the feelings that had never left me, the burning sensation of need and hope coursing through my veins.

So, I didn't fight him when he kissed me once more. I didn't fight the arm he snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I didn't fight the rush I got from finally being reunited with him in this way; I had wanted his back mouth against mine since the second we were over.

My conscience gnawed at me as Roman pressed himself up against me, but my guilt didn't hinder me from letting my fingers run through his wet hair, giving in to the engulfing infatuation I had with him. As his hungry kisses moved down my jawline and to my neck, I dared to inhale a shaky breath; I was getting dizzy from the rush of feeling him close to me like this, grabbing my waist, running his hands up my body as though he had no self-control at all.

The inner corners of my brows turned up, giving in to the crushing feeling of relief and sadness, closing my eyes as I held him tightly against me. There was so much I wanted to say, to do, but I couldn't bring myself to push him away-- not when it felt this good. Not when his hands dipped beneath my shirt, grazing at my bare skin, drinking me in as though I was water. It didn't take long for Roman to get my shirt off of me, and I could taste our shared breath along with the thud of our combined heartbeat as it got tossed to the floor.

Roman's fingers pressed themselves into my skin, getting reacquainted after our time apart. I hadn't realized that I was tracing my hands up and down his arms, mindlessly relishing in the familiarity; I had missed him dearly, and I couldn't bring myself to lie about it any longer. My hands went back up into his hair as he kissed down my chest, my breaths getting short and choppy as I allowed myself to bask in the feeling of his lips against my body.

"We shouldn't," I tried, the memory of my boyfriend lingering in the back of my mind.

Roman hummed against my skin, now kneeling before me. He grasped at my hips as he pressed a wet kiss against my lower abdomen, making my breath hitch. "Push me away, then," he murmured, his wet tongue tracing where he had just kissed me; it was impossible not to shiver.

He knew he had control. He knew, that bastard knew so well-- I couldn't push him away. I was never able to do it before, so how was I supposed to do it now? I felt my tears dry up, the familiar ache between my legs pooling, threatening to run over. As if by instinct, my hips rose from the walls, begging for him to finally do something.

Roman's grip on my hips tightened, pushing me back in place. Something about the growing smirk on his face had me questioning everything; what was I doing? Was this just a ploy for him to get laid? A big, dark part of me didn't care at this point. The fingers I had in his hair loosened as he hooked his fingers in my pyjama pants, dragging them down with a satisfied look on his face. Roman wasted no time, humming as he leaned forward to press a keening kiss against my dampening underwear.

My breath hitched, my back arching off the wall in a knee-jerk reaction-- I had missed this more than I should've. There was no passion like this with Peter, although he was sweet and considerate. But Roman was so all-taking, so consuming, I couldn't do anything other than let him do whatever he wanted to do to me. He pulled my underwear to the side, laving his tongue against me as I whimpered, tasting me. Roman's big hands grabbed my leg, forcing it over his shoulder, pushing himself closer to my sex with an aching need.

"Roman," I tried, my guilt mixing in with the pleasure. "Don't--" All other words suddenly fled my mind as his lips sealed around my clit, sucking at me in a way that had me crying out in shock, my vision nearly turning black.

Just as I thought I would faint from the flood of emotions, Roman came back up after taking his time, breath heavy against my lips. "Still want me to go?"

My eyes glossed over, meeting his. Thunder and lightning struck outside again, lighting up my living room, and allowing me to see the traces of my slick around his mouth. Something about it was just too scandalous-- I couldn't believe any of this was happening. But we'd gone too far to go back now; "No," I breathed, slinging my arms around his neck, pulling him into a heated kiss.

As I tasted myself on his lips, Roman picked me up, and my legs automatically wrapped around him as they always had. He didn't need to watch where he was going as he knew my apartment almost as well as I did, walking away from the wall and laying me down on the couch with ease.

It was hard to focus on the true nature of what was going on when it felt so damn good. Everything happened in a blur; I couldn't recall how or when Roman had lost his shirt, when my underwear got pulled off and discarded, or how I had allowed this to happen. Roman's cock pressed into me slowly, still trying to be sincere despite the complexion of our encounter. With every thrust, my chest arched up against his, back curving as I whimpered at the stretch.

My hands rested on Roman's neck as he kissed me once more, stealing my breath with every roll of his hips. The part of me that was outraged with the both of us withered away as I continued to moan beneath him, coming out in broken cries. I couldn't focus on the infidelity I was committing when he was inside of me like this, his hands wrapped around me, moving me against him.

"Fuck, I've missed this," Roman breathed against my neck, letting out a laboured sigh of satisfaction. "All of you... All of this..."

Everything about this was dizzying; maybe this was my mind playing tricks on me, maybe this was all some dirty dream? But I could feel myself clinging to him, wet and dripping-- there was no way this wasn't real. "Rome," I cried, the old nickname slipping past my lips.

I could feel him give in to a shiver, ears perking up. "That's sweet," Roman kissed my cheek, driving his cock further into me as I whimpered, no longer used to his length like before. Even as he whispered my name, needing me, I briefly thought of how less intimidating he was at this moment-- this was the part of Roman that would show up in my dreams, caress my cheeks as I cried, and fall asleep on top of my chest after a long day, clinging to me. I had spent so much time resenting him, that it was weird to see him so... human. Desperate.

I let out a short gasp as I suddenly realized I was almost folded in half, my legs creasing at his arms. One thing hadn't changed; Roman would always take his liberties with me, no matter the circumstances. It somehow bothered me that I was being fucked with the same amount of love as before; did he have no guilt? No thoughts of his girlfriend at home?

Fuck-- Peter!

As I remembered my boyfriend, I felt my anxiety rise. My hand shot up to Roman's chest, lips parted, ready to protest and push him away-- but as I met his eyes, the green of his irises practically engulfed my being, and not a sound would come out of my mouth. "Shh, it's okay," Roman said, voice calm, reading my panic. "It's just me... It's okay."

Something about his voice was so calming, soothing, that a certain sense of relief washed over me-- I could recall several similar instances. This had happened before; it was almost as though a greater power controlled me every time I looked into his eyes for too long.

The hand I had on his chest went up into his hair, pulling him forward to capture his lips in a kiss. I was caught off guard as Roman pulled out only till the tip of him remained, letting out a soft gasp against him as he pushed back into me to the hilt. I felt him hum against the kiss, sighing in satisfaction. "There you go," he said, words softer than ever. "Just relax, enjoy... Let me take care of you, just like I used to."

Despite how hard my guilt was eating at me, I still felt ridiculously calm, unable to do anything else than comply. I could only moan, shivering with pleasure at the feeling of being driven forward against the couch with every thrust.

I wrapped my arms around Roman, kissing his broad shoulders, giving in to the pleasure. I had missed this, I had missed him... All my feelings started to ball up, crying out against his shoulder at the realization of what was about to happen. "Rome, I- I can't--"

"Gonna?" His question came out along with a grunt and another snap of his hips, repeatedly pushing himself into me.

I couldn't hold it-- I really, really couldn't. Something about the nature of our get-together mixed in with my climax, and I let my head fall back down against the couch as I cried out. It was so hard, so intense, that I had forgotten to breathe; I hadn't had an orgasm like that since the day we broke up.

I knew I was screwed. I knew it.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

As everything started to dawn on me, my breathing got heavier-- what had we done? I pulled myself closer to Roman on the bed, completely spent, seeking comfort from the person who had dragged me into this mess in the first place.

Eventually, Roman broke the silence; "We should do porn," he mumbled, taking another drag of his cigarette.

What? I looked up to glare at him; "Fuck you,"

"You just did," Roman smirked, glancing back at me with a rather proud expression on his face. "But I'm serious. We're damn hot."

I groaned; this was not what I needed to hear right now-- not after we had just finished round three. Roman reached out for me with his free hand, pulling me even closer, lazily running his fingers through my hair. I embraced him as I sniffled, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I was so tired, feeling my sore legs ache as I realized that up close, Roman's hair smelled like cigarettes as well. He might've quit drinking, but quitting cigarettes was a no-go in his book.

"We're horrible people," I mumbled, my words muffled up against his skin, taking in his presence. There were many times I had dreamed about us being reunited, but never that it would end up with me cheating on Peter.

Roman shrugged, turning to press a kiss against my temple. "I told you, I'm leaving her. We're fine,"

Nothing about this felt fine. I propped myself up on my elbow, watching him as he laid comfortably in my bed, almost done with his cigarette. Even after convincing me to commit such a heinous act against my boyfriend, he looked like an angel. Fucking Lucifer. "... Don't do it. Don't leave her."

"What?" Confused, Roman's green eyes rounded out. "Why not?"

I sighed, shaking my head. The decision I had made for myself was hard to air out, and I knew that protests would ensue; "I'm not leaving Peter,"

But despite my predictions, Roman got quiet. His wide, empty eyes stared right back at me, lips parted as though he was ready to speak. "... You're kidding me?" he finally said, the hurt in his face mixing in with a smidge of anger. "After this, you're going to stay with him?"

"He's good for me!" I tried, sitting up properly. "Roman, please, just-- I don't know what came over me, but this was a mistake... We're not good for each other, you know this!--"

"You're kidding me?" Roman repeated, clearly in a state of shock.

This whole ordeal was making me feel like the second worst person in the world, with the first place going to Roman. I buried my face in my hands, realizing that I was trembling. "Please don't make this harder than it already is," I pleaded, inhaling a shaky breath. "You had no right to show up here... I was fine just the way I was, and I'm going to go back to that."

I heard Roman shift, sitting up as well. His long, slender fingers wrapped around my wrists, prying my hands away from my face. His green eyes burned into me, the fire intent on destroying whatever it could catch, and I knew I had to look away before it was too late. "I'm leaving her," he said, intertwining his fingers with mine. "I love you. I'm leaving her."

It took a lot of willpower to shake my head, rejecting his words. "Don't,"

"I will,"

"No, Roman, I don't want you to!--"

My words came to a halt as Roman leaned forward, capturing my lips in a rushed, desperate kiss. I did my best not to cry again, having previously burst into tears in the middle of round two-- I couldn't do this. This wasn't good for me. Peter was good for me.

I felt Roman's hands leave mine, and before I knew it, his fingers twisted into the hair at the nape of my neck, forcing me to look at him. His eyes searched mine, looking to find some shred of doubt to hang onto. "Do you love him?" I barely had time to open my mouth to speak before he cut me off; "You wouldn't have done this if you did."

My tears came back, pressing up on my eyes with a burning fire, begging to be set free. "Please, just... Please just go,"

Roman let out a sigh, leaning forward to press his lips against my forehead. "Call me when you change your mind,"

"I won't,"

"You will," Roman's hand slid out of my hair, caressing my cheek with his thumb, his green eyes finding mine once more. And just as I was about to look away, I felt that familiar calm wash over me as the colour green took over my vision, the numbing of my thoughts ensuing; there was no way I could fight it. I didn't stand a chance.

Roman's lips quirked into a shameless smirk; "You will,"

a/n: (should I do a pt.2? hihi)

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #hemlock grove #x reader #bill skarsgård #fanfic #oneshot #smut #bill skarsgard #fanfiction #peter rumancek #the crow 2024 #angst #toxic relationship #purr the way he is gripping her hair in that gif is making me kick my legs

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