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alloftheimagines · 2 months ago

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joel miller | complications

masterlist | tag list

words: 2.9k warnings: 18+ | angst, near death experience, blood, reader has a traumatic birth w/complications, PTSD naturally, joel reminded of sarah's death, newbown baby (yes they can be spooky! but this one is cute and safe), (please just somebody take that poor man's pain away) (or not because then what would we write about?) (also he and ellie are a little estranged like in tlou2) prompt: I was thinking maybe Jackson! Joel era and pregnant reader and then she almost dies while giving birth to the baby! Gives room for a lot of drama and angst, and potential comfort right at the end for our favorite old man. tags: (i know it's been a while since I last posted so let me know if you want to be untagged) @sweetbabygirlsworld @m4tthewmurd0ck @domaniquessidehoe @spideysimpossiblegirl note: you can read this as pedro's joel if you so wish, but i am in my game!joel feels rn

“I can’t do this, Joel.” Your face creased with pain as another contraction wracked through you. You’d known that labour would hurt, of course, but you hadn’t expected it to come on this quickly, and so strong. You hadn’t yet passed the eight-month mark, and you weren’t prepared. Not even a little. You hadn’t even sorted the nursery yet, or found a crib.

Joel held your hand on the floor of your living room, keeping you supported while you braced against the couch. He brushed the hair from your face, calm and unreadable as ever, but even you didn’t miss the way his fingers trembled against your skin. “You got this, baby girl. I know you can.”

“Don’t think you have much of a choice.” Your doctor, one of the few midwives in town, lifted her head. She sat at your feet, peeling off her gloves after your examination. “You’re fully dilated. This baby is coming right now.”

“There’s no time to get to the infirmary?” you questioned, voice rising in panic. The contractions had barely started an hour ago, and sure, you’d left it a little late before confessing that they were getting painful. Ellie had rushed out not fifteen minutes ago to call for your midwife’s help, and now…

Now, the baby was coming, and all you could think was that it wasn’t supposed to be like this. The pregnancy had been a shock to your system. You hadn’t even been sure that Joel would want to go through with it after everything he’d experienced before. But he’d held your hand through each ultrasound, felt your belly for the first kick, and even when you saw fear — dread, even — cross his features, you could easily reassure him that this time was different. This time, it was safe. You’d lived in Jackson for over a year now, and it was the security of the community that had made motherhood feel possible.

The midwife shook her head. “I’m sorry. You need to start pushing on your next contraction.”

“Oh, god,” you whispered, teeth chattering as the weight of the situation hit you.

“Hey, look at me.” Joel tilted your chin gently. “It’s gonna be just fine, darlin’. You just breathe and push, okay? We’ll do the rest.”

“Right, just breathe and push,” you muttered. “Of course, you forgot the part about shoving a small human out of my hoo-ha.”

He smirked, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Oh, right. That little detail.”

“I kinda hate you right now.” Just as you said it, another contraction hit, and your head fell back as you moaned.

“Push now if you feel like you should!” your midwife reminded. Then, to Ellie: “Go get some clean towels, hon. Lots of ‘em.”

In the doorway, Ellie looked grateful to be given a job and scampered off.

You did as instructed, dipping your chin into your chest as you pushed, pushed, pushed. A scream ripped through you at the pain it brought, each moment worse than the last.

“You’re doing so good, baby. So good. She’s gonna be here so soon,” Joel whispered, his grip around you the only thing keeping you tethered to the here and now.

Dizziness consumed you as your contraction finally eased. “Is she okay?”

“I’m seeing the head.” The midwife beamed. “Just a few more pushes, okay?”

Somehow, you breathed, and you pushed, and you felt your way through the pain as your body broke and mended and then broke again. Joel kept his grip on your hand tight, reassuring, but you saw him bite his lip toward the end and knew that he might have been just as terrified as you.

The final push finally came, and you sunk back as the newborn's cry rang out.

“She’s here. You did it,” Joel murmured, kissing your clammy temple. He laughed into your skin, the sound of joy and disbelief sending a shiver through you. You tried to lift your head, to see your daughter, but everything felt wrong. Heavy. It still hurt, and black spots dotted your vision.

“Le’ me see her.” Your words were slurred, your voice far away.

The last thing you heard was Joel calling your name, his voice raw and broken — terrified.

***

“What’s wrong with her?” he demanded.

“She’s bleeding too heavily. I need to get her to the infirmary.” The midwife shook her head, handing him the screaming newborn. His screaming newborn. It had taken months to quell the panic of becoming a father again — not that he had ever truly stopped. Sarah had lived in his heart all these years, and Ellie was his daughter, even if she hated him for what he did.

He made the mistake of looking at you, and the sight of the blood made him sick. So much of it. There was so damn much of it. He’d seen a lot of people bleed out, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing this much.

“Shit," he cursed.

He didn’t know when Ellie had returned, but she stood wan and she’ll shocked beside him now.

“Please, take her.” He shoved the baby into her arms before lowering back to his knees to grab your hand. “Don’t you dare do this to me, baby. Not now.”

“Can you carry her to the infirmary?” the midwife asked desperately.

He didn’t think twice, slipping his arms under your limp body.

“Joel! She’s gonna be alright, right?” Ellie stuttered, and he heard the panic in her voice, too, as she swayed the baby from side to side, swaddling her in blankets. You were the closest thing Ellie had to a mother. If either of them lost you…

He couldn’t even try to find an answer, as much as he wanted it to be yes.

He gritted his teeth, hauling you up on shaky legs. Thankfully, the infirmary was only a few blocks away, and nobody was there to slow him down so late at night.

He couldn’t make sense of it. One minute, he’d been settling down for the night after a long patrol shift. The next, you were curled up in pain, claiming the baby was coming.

“Stay with me,” he pleaded, fingers curling into your old sweater. His old sweater, if he was being particular, but you’d stolen it from him so long ago that it smelled completely of you now: soap and fresh air. Blood.

He staggered into the infirmary with that smell still in his nostrils, dampness spreading across his hands, and he damn near passed out on the threshold. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t, leave you, even when flashes of him holding Sarah this exact way raced through his mind. Even when a broken sob stuck in his throat, because he was holding on, and you weren’t, and she wasn’t, and why did he always have to be the one to watch the life seep from them? To end the night with nothing but their blood on his hands?

He set you down on the first bed he came to, drawing the alarmed attention of the nurses, who had a moment ago been ready to dose off on their night shift. In such a small community, they weren’t often needed after dark.

Behind him, the midwife called out orders, wheeling you away into the surgery theatre. He watched you disappear into a white-walled room, a tiny thing that never would have sufficed in the old world.

In the old world, you probably wouldn’t have given birth in a living room. In the old world, he wouldn’t be stiff with a fear he couldn’t control, frozen with memories that refused to ever leave him.

He spun around and felt unsettled to see Ellie cradling the baby, mouth agape with the same cluelessness he felt. His baby. His. He had to be a father now, but he didn’t know how when you weren’t here with him. He felt like that thing he was always losing in his dreams was finally gone for good. Ripped from him one last time.

He couldn’t look at the baby’s cherubic face. Couldn’t even look at Ellie.

He couldn’t remember why he’d been so relaxed just yesterday to think of the little life you’d both been impatiently waiting to begin. Couldn’t remember how he’d found the strength to sing a lullaby to your bump, laughing when a foot kicked his palm as though telling him to shut the hell up.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now? She was so tiny and pink and new, wrapped in bloody blankets, and he…

“Go give her to one of the nurses,” he whispered.

“Joel—” Ellie made to protest, but he couldn’t hear it. Wouldn't.

“Ellie,” he snapped. “Go give her to one of the damn nurses. I can’t.”

“Well, you don’t have a fucking choice, because she’s yours now.” Ellie shoved her into his hands without warning. He tensed with the new weight, bile rising in his stomach. No. No. No. Everything he held, he broke.

But then the baby let out a gurgle, her feet kicking his palm just like the night before when she was still safe in your belly, and he couldn’t keep from looking down at her. Couldn’t keep from seeing you in all her innocent features. Eyes, nose, even the fine tuft of hair on her head.

“I can clean her down and check she’s doing okay,” a nurse offered, and suddenly, he was reluctant to let her go.

And then he remembered you, the blood, your motionless body after so long spent screaming, Ellie’s hatred, Tess, Sarah, and he was glad for somebody else to take care of her. The further away that kid was, the better. He was a fucking curse, and she…

He scraped a hand over his face, pacing over to the surgery room. He didn’t dare march in, no matter how badly he wanted to.

“She’s going to be okay,” Ellie said from behind him gently. “She’s strong, and I’m sure shit like this happens all the time.”

“I told her we’d be okay,” Joel rasped out, face crumpling finally. “I told her that it would turn out alright, that we could be… That we could make something good here.”

“And you will,” Ellie said.

He shook his head. “I might as well have killed her my damn self.” He looked down at his bloodied hands as though they weren’t his. They shook more than they ever had before.

“Stop it! She’s going to make it. She has to!” Ellie’s yell took him aback, piercing in such a quiet, echoey space. She jabbed a finger into Joel’s shoulder. “And you have to hold it together. I know it’s fucking hard, alright, but you don’t get to lose it now! You can’t blame yourself for everything that goes wrong in our lives, Joel! That’s not how it works!”

He swallowed down his own self-loathing, head bowed. “I can’t do it without her,” he whispered.

The rawness in his voice must have been visceral, because Ellie paused, her eyes filling with tears.

And then she hugged him, tight enough that he thought maybe she was trying to keep him in one piece. He let out a ragged breath and held her. And then he did what she asked. He tried to hold it together.

***

You woke to whispers and gurgles and wondered for a moment if you were dreaming. Your lids were heavy, body distant, and you couldn’t quite remember where you were or who was supposed to be with you.

Until you prised your eyes open and found IVs plugged into your veins.

“There she is,” a voice said softly.

You blinked, searching for the source, and found it in a bleary version of Joel. He sat in a chair beside your bed, a tiny baby in his arms. His smile was shaky, distorted, and you didn’t know why. Not until he leaned forward and brushed your hair from your face with his free arm.

“Thought you’d left me there for a second.”

“Is she okay?” Your throat was hoarse.

He nodded. “Right as rain. It’s you we were worried about.”

You frowned, trying to remember. One minute, you were pushing as though your life depended on it, and then the next, you were just… gone.

“You had a heavy bleed. Needed a transfusion,” Joel explained finally. “But they reckon you’re gonna be okay, thank god.”

“But she’s okay?” You stared at the baby nestled against his chest, not quite sure how she was here. When had this being growing inside of you become a real, tangible thing? How much of her life had you already missed?

Joel sighed impatiently. “Yes, baby. She’s perfect. Takes after her mom in that department.”

He moved to perch beside you so that you could get a closer look. He was right, of course. She was a little smaller than most newborns, but she was perfect. Pink apple cheeks, wide eyes, tiny fingernails. Looking at her felt like everything had finally fallen into place. You tickled her chin and her lips twitched with something content. Something right.

“How’s it feel, being a daddy again?” you asked gently, looking up at him.

“Right now, it feels like hell. You can’t go scaring me like that.” He wouldn’t look at you, frown set firmly on his daughter. “Thought I was gonna have a heart attack."

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t imagine how scared he must have been. After everything, you’d finally thought that danger, terror, was a thing of the past. You’d done a great job of ruining that, even if it wasn’t on purpose. Joel had lost too much before to deal with all this, and you had no idea how you’d cope in his shoes.

He chuckled. “You’re sorry.” Shook his head. “I ain’t trying to make you apologise for almost dying, darlin’. You don’t gotta worry about me.”

“We said we could do this right,” you whispered. “I promised you it’d be different.”

“Yeah, well… feels like things’ll never be different for me.”

You snapped your head up. “What’s that mean?”

“Nothin’.” He sighed, kissing your temple, and yet still, he wouldn’t meet your eye. “How about you get some rest? I’ll keep the little missus company.”

“Joel.” You cupped his jaw, pleading now. Everything felt so wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Even though the proof was right in front of you, it was hard to believe your baby was happy and healthy after all the trauma you’d faced. “We’re not gonna start her life this way. Tell me what you mean.”

He placed the baby down in the crib beside your bed before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I keep having to plan a life where I’m alone again, and honestly, I don’t know how I’d do it if I had to. Not this time.”

“But you’re not alone. I’m right here.”

“But you weren’t. For a minute there, I thought…” His voice grew thick, and he shook his head. “Sarah’s gone. Ellie hates me. Why the hell did I think it’d be third time lucky? She’s not even a day old, and she almost lost her mom! And there was nothing I could do. There’s never anything I can do.”

Your heart ached for him. One day, you prayed he wouldn’t hold the responsibility of every single person he loved on his shoulders. Maybe he was right. Maybe you’d been foolish to go into this thinking it could be better. The world would never be safe, not even here in Jackson, and the pain he must live with every day sure as hell wouldn’t ease now he had another daughter to raise.

You felt hollow at the thought that maybe he’d leave. You wouldn’t blame him, not really. You were scared, too. But you’d only found the strength to do this because you were together, and you’d survived the odds so far. If that stopped feeling true… what then?

Devastation must have been written all over your face, because he pursed his lips. “Don’t listen to me, baby. I shouldn’t be sayin’ all this. You’re barely out of the woods.”

“I don’t think we can keep doing this if you don’t let some of that guilt and blame go, Joel,” you admitted. “I think your daughter is gonna need a man who doesn’t hate himself for every single thing that’s wrong in the world. You’re right. There was nothing you could have done to stop this from happening. It was my body, and things like this happened even before the outbreak. I can’t imagine how scared you were, love, but fuck, you can’t keep making it your fault. It isn’t. It never was, especially not with Sarah. And this baby? She isn't Sarah."

He winced at her name, as he often still did. Collapsing back in his chair, he took your hand. Slowly, his lower lip began to wobble as he finally met your gaze. “I love you too much to lose you. And her… How the hell am I gonna do this?”

“I can’t answer that,” you said. “We knew it wouldn’t be easy.”

He snorted. “Ain’t that the truth.” Then, he bowed his head to press a kiss to the back of your hand. “Gonna try to be better. I promise. I'll hold it together."

“You don’t need to be better, and you don't need to hold it together. You’re already a good man, and talking about all this is important - for both of us. And for her.” You squeezed his fingers tightly. “I love you so much.” You teared up as you looked at the baby dozing in her crib. “And god, I love her. Can you believe we made her?”

He hummed. “What the hell are we gonna call her?”

“And where the hell are we gonna put her?” you added, worrying at your lip. “We never even found a crib.”

He shrugged, teasing. “I’m sure we’ll find a corner somewhere.” He leaned forward, tracing circles along your arm. “We’ll make do. Between the four of us, we’ll find a way. I’ll cut the damn trees down and build us a place from scratch myself if I have to.”

You smiled, peace finally flooding your exhausted body. You saw Ellie standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed, and knew Joel was right. Your family was complete now. It would be a little broken at times, as all things were, but you’d do everything in your power to keep it whole.

Even if it meant reminding Joel every damn day that he had to be gentle with himself.

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imbored1201 · 10 months ago

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How do we put up with you?

Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader

Words: 1,936

A/N: there’s a lot of Mapi and reader beef in this one😭

You hated traveling but also loved it. It was a perfect opportunity to do dumb things and easily get away with it since everyone was too tired to care. The bad thing about it was you had to sit down and be patient.

The whole time in the airport, Alexia would hold your hand, or Sandra, since you liked how soft her hands were.

"Restroom," Alexia told you as she reached to grab your hand. "I don't have to go," you told her, only paying attention to your phone. "Hey!" You said as she snatched it from you. "You always say you don't have to, then when I come back you complain that you do, come on," you glared at her as you stood up and took her hand.

"Aw, the baby needs her mommy to take her to the potty," Salma cooed as she pinched your cheek. You swatted her hand away. "Leave her alone," Alexia told her, which Salma was quick to oblige.

—————

Once Alexia went into one of the stalls, you were quick to rush out. You went to a gift shop that was nearby to look at what they had.

After a couple of minutes, you noticed Alexia rushing out the restroom and in the direction of the team. You smirked, shaking your head, and continued to look stuffed animals.

"You really want to give her a heart attack, don't you?" You jumped at the sound of Ingrid's voice. You turned around and smiled at Fridolina and Ingrid. "Look at this puppy," you held out the puppy that Frido took.

"Grab a candy and let's go," Ingrid told you, and you were quick to grab your favorite candy and gave it to Frido.

Ingrid held your hand as you walked back. You smirked at seeing Alexia go off on Patri and Pina.

"I think you lost someone," Frido announced, making everyone turn to her. "You see, we told you we didn't know," Pina told her, glaring at you. As usual, Alexia suspected that they had a part in your disappearance and got scolded for no reason.

Alexia quickly swept you up in a hug. "You know you can't do that, idiota," she scolded, smacking the back of your head. "Look at my new stuffed animal." You held it up for everyone to see.

Pina snatched it away and examined it. "Can I name it?" She genuinely asked. You thought about it for a second. "Not your child, not your choice." Claudia scoffed and went to get her own stuffed animal to name.

————

You were bored and energetic; the candy Fridolina got you gave you an extra boost. Alexia sighed as you saw you eating it, too tired to even take it away from you. She wanted you to be tired so you would sleep the whole plane ride.

"Come on, we have to board," Alexia said, grabbing your hand. Marta took your suitcase, and you happily made your way onto the plane.

"Can I sit with Ingrid and Mapi?" You asked her, looking at the couple. Mapi groaned upon hearing you, making Ingrid smack her in the back of the head.

"Okay, here's your bag; it has your juice, iPad, and snacks." Alexia spoke a little too excited, it was understandable; she needed a break from your nonsense. "Move, I want middle," you told Mapi, who shook her head.

"Mapi move," Ingrid now said. Mapi gave her a look of disbelief. "Mapi, don't start arguing with a kid." Mapi sighed and got up. You smiled and sat in between them. Lucy looked back at you and gave you a warning look when you kicked her seat again before the plane even took off. It was going to be a long flight.

————

You were bored again after 10 minutes. After kicking Lucy's seat none stop you finally got scolded by Mapi, and she threatened to tell Alexia.

Speaking of, Mapi kept staring Ingrid down when she thought you were distracted by your iPad. It was disgusting, in your opinion. She was practically drooling all over her shirt.

"Can you stop eye-fucking her" you told her when Ingrid went to use the restroom. Mapi looked at you, shocked, not believing those words had just came out of your mouth.

You smirked at her. "I'm telling Alexia" she announced, standing up to call Alexia to make you sit with her.

"You do that; I'll tell her it was you that broke her favorite vase, not me. All because a teenager was kicking your ass in a game," you knew you got her there when she went silent.

You were beating Mapi in FIFA, and it was worse since she was trying to impress Ingrid, who was watching the whole time. You were teasing her, and she decided it was a good idea to throw Nala's toy ball at the wall; it hit the vase instead. You had never seen Mapi so scared.

You took the blame since you knew it would be good blackmail later on.

Mapi kept glancing at you and back to her phone, not even looking at Ingrid's direction anymore, even when the green eyed girl asked her something, she counted down the minutes until the plane landed. She needed a break from any kind of children.

You had another trick up your sleeve, though. You knew with Mapi's looks that things would most likely heat up tonight in their hotel room.

You turned to Ingrid and tapped her shoulder. "Can me, you, and Frido have a sleepover? Like last time. Alexia can never sleep on the first night, and it annoys me." Mapi turned to you, wondering if she heard you correctly.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said. "Why not? I'm fine with it; I've missed her late-night thoughts." Ingrid shrugged, and you stuck your tongue out at Mapi, who muttered curse words under her breath.

"Watch your language," you scolded her, immediately cuddling into Ingrid's side. All she could do was stare you down, despite the growing temptation to strangle you.

————

Thankfully for Mapi, she got a 30-minute break after landing and getting to the hotel. During those 30 minutes, you had to somehow convince Alexia to let you have a sleepover with Ingrid and Fridolina, then explain to her that Mapi was staying with her. It wasn't going to be easy.

"Did you take my sweater again?" Alexia asked you as she stepped out of the restroom from her shower. When she saw you, she frowned. You had your little backpack ready to go. "Where are you going? It's 9, your bedtime is at 10."

"Me, Ingrid, and Frido are having a girls night," you told her happily. "You're barely telling me this?" She sounded a bit angry, but mostly confused.

"Ingrid said it was fine, and you're stuck with Mapi for tonight," Alexia huffed at that. Those two together didn't make a good combo when it came to sleeping in the same room.

Alexia sometimes had a hard time falling asleep in a new environment, so she was constantly getting up. Mapi couldn't sleep if she heard any kind of noise, so she would get annoyed by any movement.

————

"You have a toothbrush?" You nodded. "Charger?" You nodded. "Extra clothes?" You nodded. Before she could question you more, you walked out the door.

"Bye Lex!" You called out, running to the elevator. Ingrid and Mapi's room was on the floor below. You didn't even have to knock on the door since an angry-looking Mapi came out with a bag of clothes and her blankets.

"Bye bye," you smirked at her, going past her and pushing her outside. "Eres un-" Before she could finish, you slammed the door in her face.

You ran to Ingrid and jumped on her bed. "Can we please ding dong ditch some of the girls" Ingrid shook her head, making you whine.

"Behave tonight, or I'll send you back to Alexia's." You nodded and jumped up, hearing another knock on the door.

"Frido!" You exclaimed, jumping on her, when you opened the door. She carried you back inside and threw you on the bed.

"Want to do a job, kid?" Frido asked you, and you quickly nodded. "Go get us some ice; you know where it's at?"

"Frido, it's too late for her to be going out." "She'll be fine; she has too much energy; she needs to do some exercise to get rid of it, so why don't you sprint while doing this, I'll time you." You loved competitions.

————

"Go!" Frido yelled, holding the door open for you as you sprinted out of the room and down to the elevator.

You went to the floor below, where the ice was, and sprinted out of the elevator.

While you filled your bucket, you got an idea. You could fulfill your ding-dong ditching plan. As always, Patri was your target.

You knew Patri and Ona got put together because last time Patri and Pina shared a room, Pina broke the TV trying to throw a football at you for being annoying. You admit, you were being annoying, but throwing a ball at you while you were standing in front of the TV was a bad idea on her part.

————

You quickly banged on there and ran away to the elevator again. After a couple of seconds, you heard the door opening. "Hello?" Patri asked, you couldn't contain your laughter.

"Y/N, I swear," she said, knowing your laugh. She sighed and went back inside, refusing to give you attention. Not enjoying that fact, you decided to do it again.

It was a terrible idea; Patri was waiting for you. She quickly swung the door open and tackled you.

"Alexia!" You yelled, knowing she was probably up and doing her nighttime routine. Patri continued her attack and started tickling your sides. "Helppp!" You yelled, giggling.

Ona came out of the room confused, rubbing her eyes tiredly and watching Patri attack you while you giggled and yelled for Alexia.

————

When Alexia stepped out, the waterworks came. "Mierda," Patri muttered, seeing the tears in your eyes.

"What is going on?!" Alexia shouted. It was late; practically the whole team on the bottom floor was up and out of their rooms now. They were all pretty cranky over the fact that they were woken up.

"I just wanted ice," you cried, pointing to your bucket of ice that was on the ground. Alexia looked at Patri with a questioning look.

"She's a demon! She ding dong ditched us," Patri defended herself. Irene let out an annoyed sigh and told everyone to go back into their rooms.

"Ona?" You turned to Ona, who was just as confused as her. "I didn't hear anything," she shrugged and went back into the room to sleep. Patri had a look of disbelief, finally getting off of you.

"But-" "That's enough, Patri; apologize and give her a new bucket of ice, and you," she turned to you. Mapi quickly stuck her head out the door to watch you get your scolding next.

"Bed, it's way past your bedtime," you rolled your eyes. "I'm practically an adult." "Don't act like it," you glared at Mapi. “Okay, I’ll go to bed, cuddle with Ingrid, and have her read me a bedtime story, something you can’t do.” Before Mapi could say something back, Alexia dragged her back into the room and slammed the door.

————

Patri shoved your new bucket of ice into your hands and stormed off. "Goodnight," you called out; all you got was a middle finger.

"Alexia!"

#woso x reader #woso #barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #mapi leon #alexia putellas #ingrid engen #fridolina rolfö #patri guijarro

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pigeonpeach · 7 days ago

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Your love is my drug

Fem foxian reader x Feixiao smut. This was not proofread. Reader has female genitalia. This is also rather short!

“There is no point in running now.” A whispered promise spoken as her lips ran down your neck, sending a shiver.

“Feixiao.. don’t tear my clothes this time, this is my favorite… dr..mm.” Words muddled into nonsense as you felt her teeth pierce your neck. It wasn’t often that Feixiao was in the moods. Ever since she swallowed the crimson moon, although she conquered its effects on her, something of it lingered in the sound of tearing fabric and her claws teasing your oh so dainty skin. Or maybe she was just that horny, its hard to tell. Lingsha says that it’s nothing to be concerned of when she got her last examination. Lingsha herself even gave you a look as she explained how ‘increase in certain physical activities would be beneficial for Feixiao’s cleansing. Of course if you’re up for it.’ Her words, maybe not exactly. Its hard to remember when a foxian general with the blood of Hoolay and his army stained under her fingernails is eating you out. Such fierceness could only be found in the eyes of her.

“Feixiao!” You cried as your legs trembled. You had hardly a break these past weeks. You know separation was hard for her, you of course couldn’t accompany her on her hunt of Hoolay. You sat at home, keeping the bed warm and occasionally a steamy phonecall to keep her mind clear and to recenter herself. She fought for the luofo, for the foxians, for humanity, for good, but also for you. She deserved a nice meal even if it was you.

Her claws kept your legs stiff and still, you could only clutch her hair as the sensations drowned your mind in a lust-filled dream. Her tongue sought every drop of slick within as you couldn’t tear her off even if you really tried. There might be no one in the galaxy who could for that matter. Not that you would want them too anyways. Your poor clit was not spared in her feast, it ached with soreness as she had made it her target these past few days.

Your whimpers were her fuel. Nothing but animalistic lust was behind those eyes, her ears hanged low as she growled in fustration. It wasn’t enough. Nothing seemed to be for her. She needed you in every single way at once. She needed everything. She needed to claim you. Its s shame she couldn’t breed you, otherwise no doubt you would be swole and barefoot far more than most foxian wives. Your scent was more addictive than any drug or wine. You could tell she lost herself more and more, something fueled it beyond a simple horniness. You reached your hand to her cheek as her head rose from its throne between your legs.

“Its me Feixiao. There’s no need to worry anymore. Its just us here. No one is going to hurt you or me.” You panted out your reassurance as she stared into your eyes. She let out a sound that bordered on a purr as you scratched her ears. “See? I’m yours, i always will be.”

“Did I go to far?” She asked, a slight hint of cognition in her voice. You shaked your head.

“No. You can go further.” You allowed. How could you resist that face. The look of pure desperation and list, she eyed you with such reverence it was overwhelming. You couldn’t do anything else but take whatever she gave, and you were as greedy as she could be generous.

#feixiao x reader #fem reader #hsr imagines #hsr x reader #domestic fluff #SMUT #GAY PEOPLE!!!#GAY FURRIESSS!#wlw

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luvfy0dor · 6 months ago

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“And My Daddy Tells Me I Light Up His World ♡” Dad!Bsd Drabbles ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Chuuya Nakahara, Osamu Dazai, Fyodor Dostoevsky

Warnings; Line breaks between indented paragraphs mean new scenarios, girl dads, d/n- daughters name, s/n-sons name, p/t-parental title for reader

Description; a couple different scenarios, 2 for Fyodor, 1 for Dazai, 1 for Chuuya

A/n; just so u guys do know I giggle every single time I type out d/n, also also I've got a req still about dad Fyodor in my inbox but I don't know why it's so hard for me to write it 3: I'll get it out ong, im so sorry dad fyodor anon </3 consider this tribute to you 3: also next post's gonna be for the event! Had to rewrite it.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

Fyodor stood in the kitchen, accompanied by his young daughter sitting at the dining table. In his hand was a letter to Nikolai, written a week ago that he had finally decided to mail. He grabs an envelope before rummaging through drawers while his daughter colors idly across the room. She peers up at him from her spot and hops out of her chair, coloring paper in hand. "what're you looking for, papa?" She asks, looking up at him with her e/c eyes, the ones that matched yours perfectly. He smiled at her and closed the drawer he was looking through. "Just a pen, malyshka. Do you know where I could find one?" He asks her, looking down at her. She nods and fetches one of the pens from her big bag of coloring supplies, digging through it for a quick second before returning to him with her arm outstretched and a glittery pink gel pen in her small hands. "This is okay, right, papa? Who's the letter going to?" He takes it appreciatively and writes out Nikolais name and address. "Uncle Kolya, and any pen you give me will do, sweetheart." He gives the pen back to her and ruffles her hair. "Oh, uncle Kolya will just love it, then! I'm pretty sure his favorite color is pink. I'm gonna color this for him so that the next time he comes over he'll have a present from me!" She says with excitement, skipping back over to her seat at the table to resume her coloring. "Oh, ofcourse, d/n." After Fyodor mailed the letter, he soon got a response from Nikolai expressing his disappointment over the letter not being fully written in pink gel pen, which was backed up by his daughter as well.

You stood in yours and your husbands bedroom, buttoning his shirt for him while he watched the numbers flicker and change on the alarm clock on your nightstand. Your daughters school was hosting a daddy-daughter dance and your daughter insisted on Fyodor taking her. He agreed obviously, but he felt unfamiliar with such things, after all, he'd never experienced a daddy-daughter dance in his childhood. You gave him a smile once you buttoned his shirt and grabbed the only tie he owned off the dresser. "You look so good, Fedya. Like a prince." You said with a smile, leaning in to kiss the corner of his lips. He hummed and guided your chin with his fingers to kiss his lips completely. "Just a prince? Not a king?" His eyes were half lidded as always and you could make out a small smile on his face. "Alright, fine, a king." You finished tying his tie for him and left it slightly loose around his neck, knowing he was never really fond of how tight they could be. "Perfect, that would make d/n our little princess." Almost as if summoned, her footsteps are heard pattering down the hallway in her cute little flats that you got for her. The dress that she wore was adorned with puffy, mesh layers on the skirt and some gemstones on the top. "Papa, are you ready to go yet? " she asks, walking over to his side and examining his outfit thoroughly and gasping excitedly. "Papa, your tie matches my dress!" She says, pointing out the same colored material. "It does." He picks her up with a smile. "Do I look pretty?" She asks, a big, toothy grin on her face. He laughs and nods.

"Absolutely, now go say goodbye to p/t." He says, putting her down onto the ground so she could hug you and bid you a goodbye. "Bye, p/t!!" She says, squeezing you quite tightly. You hug her back and kiss her head, looking down at her. "Bye, sweetheart, I love you. Oh- wait! Before you go I want a picture of you and papa." You fish your phone from your back pocket and open the camera app as she backs up and hugs her papa just as tightly as she held you. Fyodor places his hand on her back while they both smile for the photo, but wince all of a sudden as your phones flash goes off. "Oh- whoops, I forgot to turn the flash off- for real this time." They both pose again, d/n giggling at your small mistake. You snapped it and then examined it on the phone before your daughter started pleading to see it. Fyodors smile was as charming as always, both in person and in the photo, and your daughter looked absolutely adorable in her poofy dress. Once you had shown her and she was satisfied, she quickly made her way out of the room, holding the skirt of her dress by the handfuls. Fyodor laughed at her under his breath before he leaned in to kiss you once more before he left, letting his hand linger on your hip like his taste did on your lips. "Bye, Fedya, I love you, have fun." You grin, to which he lets out a sigh. "I will, I love you too, Moya Lyubov." He pulls away and follows the young girl out of the bedroom. You smiled to yourself as you heard him call from down the hallway, "Wait, malyshka, don't go out the door so fast", followed by the prompt creeking and closing of the door.

Osamu Dazai ★

No one got the memo that it was apparently 'bring your kid to work's day', but everyone had to adjust rather quickly when Dazai pulled up to the Ada with a young child on his hip, oogling at any shiny object in its sight. Kunikida was the first to ask about it. "Is this another orphan that you've decided to pick up off the streets? It's too young for a job here." Dazai rolled his eyes. "For your information, this is my son. His babysitter has come down with the flu." He clarifies, walking past everyone to his desk and sitting the one year old on his lap. The baby leans towards him and reaches for the tassels of his bolo tie, grabbing and pulling on them to his mouth. Dazai laughs and gently pulls them out of the little boys grasp. "No, s/n, you can't chew on those." His son pouts and coos out some baby nonsense, starting to look around for some other entertainment, only to find nothing that interests him. He looks up at his dad with his big brown eyes and pouts, huffing and gripping his long jacket in his chubby fists. "Papa, 'ome." He babbles, missing the comfort of yours and Dazais house and preferring to be there over the agency. "I know, s/n, believe me. I'd rather be at home than sitting here with these people." He says, sighing and shaking his head. "Just keep him from crying." Kunikida says exasperatedly while writing a report from the last case he worked on for Fukuzawa. Dazai hums in acknowledgement and turns the baby to face away from him, keeping him sat on his lap. "My boy doesn't cry, he's nothin' like those other babies." He says with a grin, grabbing a pen and wrapping his son's hand around it and helping him drag it acrossed the closest paper on Dazais desk. "Yeah, just get a feel for holding the pen and as soon as you can write on your own, daddy's never doin' his own reports again." He grins. "Your son isn't doing any paperwork for the agency until he joins. And that still doesn't mean he'll be doing yours." Kunikida says from his desk. Dazai shakes his head and lets go of his sons arm. "Ugh, whatever... Kunikida doesn't gotta know if I bring it home though." He whispers to the boy, evoking an unaware giggle. Kunikida let out a knowing huff and gave up on trying.

Chuuya Nakahara ★

After his little girl had asked him on numerous occasions for a trip to the fair, he was finally able to get some time off and go with you and her. He weaved through the crowds with her on his shoulders and his hand in yours while trying to decide on one final game for your daughter to play before you left.. "Papa, look! They have fish!" D/n exclaimed, pointing at the booth that ran the famous goldfish game that parents never want their kids to see. Not Chuuya though. He's nothin' like y'all. Chuuya didn't mind the idea of having a fish for his daughter, even if it was him who had to feed it every day and clean it's tank regularly. He smiled and looked over at you with eyes that asked you if you were in mutual agreement of letting her try to win a goldfish. You smiled back at him and nodded, noticing your daughter watching the two of you exchange your glances. "Alright sweetheart, let's go get ya one of them fish." He walks over to the stand with you, lifting her off of his shoulders while you handed the carnie a $5 bill for a basket of ten ping pong balls. Chuuya watched d/n try to toss the first five into one of the colorful mini-fishbowls and miss every single one, so he grabbed a ball and tossed it, getting it into one of them. The man running the game cheers and heads to get d/n her fish, but she ends up getting two of the last four balls in on her own, nearly shrieking in excitement. "Daddy, that means I get three fishes, right?" She excitedly asks, her hair bouncing in the pigtail style it was pulled into. "Yup, that's right." He smiles at the carnie when he hands the fish to him and mutters an appreciative thank you, patting his daughters back and telling her to do the same. "Thank you! P/t, can we get them a tank at home?" She asks, still super hyper from her triple win. You laugh and nod, holding two of the fish so Chuuya doesn't have to hold all three and your daughter if she chooses she's too tired to walk to the car. "Yeah, we'll stop at the pet store to get you a nice tank for them." You tell her, nodding for her to follow you and Chuuya grabbing her hand so she doesn't get lost. "What do you say to daddy? He got you one of those." You say with a small laugh and she looks up at her dad with big, adoring eyes. "Thank you, daddy! Ahh, I'm so excited for my fishes!" Her misunderstanding of the plural version of fish also makes you giggle a little. "You're welcome, princess. Y'gonna take real good care of them? Remind me to feed 'em every day?" He says, guiding you guys through the parked cars towards your own. "Yup! Every single morning! But what're we gonna do when I'm at school and you and p/t are working? What about their lunch?" She frowns. "Fish don't need lunch, don't worry." He reassures her and hands you the third bagged fish for a moment while buckling d/n into her seat. "Good, I don't want them to starve!" She says. Chuuya laughs under his breath and closes the backseat door, pulling out a cigarette to smoke before taking the sorta-long drive to the pet store and home. Now he had three more responsibilities, but it made his baby happy, so he really didn't mind having to take care of three more animals in addition to his original one.

A/n; yawns speed ran these, wrote Chuuyas in like,, 12 minutes, it's not proofread (js Chuuyas) but hopefully it works (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ also I'd like to come out and say ion proofread my own stuff, I have my friends do it (I love you guys MWAH)

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cecilyv · 2 months ago

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Graffiti on my body

(buck/tommy, 9-1-1, mini-fic)

Sometimes being multiple time zones away from @liminalmemories21 sucks, and sometimes you have a vision, you write up the basics, and you wake up to a moment of joy. Today we both got to say, "Good morning to me; and yes, exactly."

Tommy’s body has always been utilitarian; built and nourished for what could it do, how far it could be pushed. As much as he thought about it at all, he vaguely considered what it needed — food, water, exercise. Mostly it was a nuisance that never did enough, never as much as he wanted, as his superiors wanted — so he focused on how he could build it to hold more, help more, save more.

But now, wrapped in Evan’s sheets, bolstered by Evan’s body, he wonders, maybe for the first time, what his body wants, what his body can accept, what his body can give. Evan’s hands make him question what he’s been missing, what he could have been wanting, asking for. He wants to see what Evan sees; he wants to look down and see more than a job, a soldier, a firefighter.

Evan touches him like nobody else ever has — there's desire and hunger, and those he's used to. He’s seen them before; maybe not to this degree, and that’s a trip all of its own. But Evan touches him with wonder, too — like he's precious, like he could be hurt and Evan wants to keep him safe. Nobody's ever touched him like that.

Evan lays with his head on Tommy’s chest, drawing on his skin with his finger, intricate swirls and whorls, tracing a pattern that Tommy can't see, but Evan clearly can because it's the same each time — wants to ask what it is, but also doesn't, just feels it, lets it sink in until he can almost trace it himself. He lies there and takes it, skin still sensitive, flushed and slightly sweaty and, over time, he realizes he needs it, he wants it — Evan marking his place, claiming what’s his.

When he looks down at his skin later, he can almost see the love that Evan has inscribed into his skin.

And one day, when Evan’s on a 48 and Tommy’s just lying in bed, he traces one of Evan’s favorite spots, the one he always goes back to — and he wouldn’t say he’s impulsive; he’d argue that he has good instincts— he pulls on his clothes and goes to the local tattoo parlor. He stands in parade rest, staring at the art on the wall, abstract colors and details and designs that he doesn’t understand but knows are beautiful. When she asks if she can help, he tries to explain what he wants but he can’t get it quite right. She looks at him with exasperation, with pity, and tells him to come back when he’s sure about what he wants; she doesn’t want him to regret his decisions.

He leaves, buys a pen and when Evan gets home, when they’re lying in bed again and Evan starts absentmindedly tracing the pattern on his skin, he reaches into a drawer and pulls out the pen and hands it to Evan, and tells him, he wants to see what Evan sees, he wants to wear his mark, he wants to be covered in Evan.

And he goes back to the artist the next day, with Evan sketched on his skin and she examines Tommy in a new way, like he’s a work of art, like he’s changed, improved, special. She sees what Evan sees.

And Tommy points at the design on his hip, just below his scar, and the woman tilts her head, consideringly, just breathes, “Yes.”

And he lies there and lets her permanently etch Evan onto his skin.

Evan’s eyes go wide when he sees it. “You,” he swallows, voice hoarse, “…show me. “

He knows it was actually pretty impulsive, that they haven’t really been dating long enough for tattoos. But he also knows he won’t regret it if they break up. It’ll break his heart — in so fast he can’t feel the bottom anymore — but he won’t regret it.

“I like the way you see me,” he says simply.

#buck/tommy #911 fic #mini fic #tattoos

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wholoveseggs · 4 months ago

Note

I am so excited every time I see new Elijah content of yours. Please don't stop anytime soon!! Helps me through the day.

I also have a request: Elijah is the sole guardian of his niece while Klaus and the rest of his siblings are out of town. He meets y/n, who's a single parent as well. She falls in love with him because he is so caring when it comes to Hope, but he has to come clean with y/n about being a vampire. Eventually, there's smut, of course :)

Ice Cream and Love Bites

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You are at a playground with your son when you meet Elijah. He is everything you are looking for in a partner, but his life is shrouded in mystery. Can you trust him with your heart?

♡♡ Thank you for the request lovely @originals23! Fluffy domestic Elijah is my favorite ~xoxox ♡♡

8.2k words - Warnings: smut at the end, so much fluff, lots of cute kids stuff, ice cream, romantic dates, blood drinking, vampire reveal, Elijah being fatherly & beignets...

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer

Your son was everything to you. He had turned five not too long ago, and was a kind and loving little boy. It made you incredibly proud, seeing him grow and develop every day. However, it also meant that he had become even more of a handful.

You didn't mind, of course. You loved him with your whole heart. But it was hard being a single mom, with his energy completely boundless. He ran around your apartment constantly, climbing on everything, jumping off, and running to do it all over again. And he never got tired. Ever.

So you were happy to bring him to the local playground every chance you got. It was one of the few times you felt you could actually sit down and enjoy the world around you.

You sat at a bench, sipping your coffee and reading a book while keeping an eye on your son. He was playing with an adorable little girl, with auburn hair and bright blue eyes. You thought she might be about his age.

The two of them were running around and playing together, their laughs making you smile. Your son was such a social kid, always happy to make new friends and it looked like they were having a lot of fun.

You looked back down at your book, flipping a page, but the sound of the little girl crying caught your attention. Looking up, you saw her on the ground, clutching her leg.

"Are you okay?" You asked, quickly standing up and rushing over to the pair.

She sniffled and shook her head, tears falling down her face, she had a cut on her knee. Your son was kneeling next to her, holding her hand, which you thought was adorable.

"It's okay, sweetheart," you said gently, crouching down and examining her knee.

It was just a small scratch, but still, the blood was trickling down her leg. You pulled a tissue out of your bag, pressing it against the cut.

"Let's go find your mommy, okay?" You told her.

"My mommy isn't here," she sniffed, "uncle lijah is here."

"Where is your uncle?" You asked, looking around.

A shadow was cast across the three of you, and you looked up to see a handsome man, wearing a full suit and tie, even though it was a Saturday. He was ridiculously handsome, with dark eyes and a sharp jaw, looking like he stepped out of a noir film.

"Hope, darling, what happened?" He asked, kneeling down and looking at her with a frown.

"Uncle lijah, I fell," she cried, "but Miss pretty lady helped me."

"Oh, did she?" He looked up at you, a smile tugging at his lips, "thank you for helping my niece."

"Of course," you nodded, "it's no trouble at all."

Your son, who had been watching the whole interaction, suddenly spoke up, "mommy, who is that?"

"That's the uncle of your new friend, silly," you said, standing up and offering him your hand.

"Elijah," he said, taking your hand and shaking it, "it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Y/N," you said, smiling, "and this is my son James,"

"Hello, young sir," he said, looking down at your son, who was clinging to your leg.

James giggled, hiding his face in your leg. You smiled, gently ruffling his hair.

Elijah scooped Hope up in his arms, inspecting the cut on her knee. You couldn't even see it anymore, just a bit of dried blood.

"I have some bandaids in my bag if you need one," you offered.

He nodded, following you over to the bench where your bag sat. You handed him a bandaid, watching as he carefully peeled off the paper and placed it over the scratch.

Hope's eyes were still a bit watery, and she kept sniffling. Elijah kissed her head, smoothing her hair back.

"Uncle lijah can you go down the slide with me?" She asked.

"Of course, darling," he smiled, setting her down.

You watched as she grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the slide. Your son's hand slid into yours, and he looked up at you.

"Can I go down the slide too, mommy?"

"Sure, baby," you nodded, giving him a gentle push towards the playground.

You sat back down on the bench, sipping your coffee, but kept a close eye on both your son and the handsome stranger.

You watched him pull off his suit jacket, then his tie. You almost choked on your drink, seeing the way his shirt clung to his muscular body. He was tall and broad, and the sight of him without his jacket was enough to make you flush.

He helped his niece down the slide a couple of times, she was giggling, clearly feeling better now. After a few minutes, James joined the two of them, and Elijah smiled at him, helping him up the ladder.

Watching the three of them play was so heartwarming. Elijah was clearly a great uncle, and you found yourself admiring him from afar.

Eventually the kids went running off to play in the sand and Elijah came over to the bench, taking a seat next to you.

"Thank you again," he said, "I really appreciate you helping Hope."

"Oh, it was no trouble," you said, "she's adorable, and it was nice to have another parent around.”

Your eyes wandered to the man sitting next to you, he seemed so very out of place at a children's playground. He was clearly very rich, his clothes and watch were expensive, and he carried himself with such elegance.

"So, how old is Hope?" You asked.

"She's five," he said, "James?"

"He's five too," you said, "how long have you been raising her?"

"About half a year now," he said, a slight sigh in his voice.

"That's a big commitment," you said, "single parenting can be tough."

"I find it more rewarding than anything else," he said, "she's a wonderful girl."

You nodded and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you watched the kids. Hope and James were playing hide and seek, their giggles filling the air.

You couldn't help but notice the way Elijah looked at his niece, there was so much love and affection in his eyes. It was clear that he cared deeply for her.

It was so rare to find a man like him, who took his role as a parent so seriously. James' father didn't even care about the fact that he had a child, he had only used you for a good time, not caring about the consequences.

But here was this man, who was so caring and loving to his niece. After all that you had been through, the struggles of being a single parent, the loneliness, the pain, it was refreshing to see someone like Elijah.

You glanced at him, your eyes trailing over his face. He looked so prim and proper, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to mess up his perfectly styled hair, to tug on his tie and pull him in for a kiss.

Your cheeks heated up at the thought and you quickly looked away. The last thing you needed was to be thinking about a stranger like that.

After a few minutes, James and Hope ran over to the bench, excitedly telling the two of you about the game they had just played. You smiled, listening to their story, but your eyes kept drifting back to Elijah.

You wanted to know more about him, and not just because he was attractive. He seemed like a genuinely nice person, and it was so rare to find a kindred spirit in this city.

"Mommy, can I have an ice cream?" James asked.

"Me too!" Hope chimed in.

"Oh, uh," you looked at Elijah, who shrugged, "sure, let's go get some ice cream."

The kids cheered and ran off towards the ice cream cart. You and Elijah stood up, following behind them.

As the four of you approached the cart, James and Hope were bouncing excitedly.

"I want strawberry," Hope said, "no, wait, chocolate!"

"What kind do you want, honey?" You asked James.

"I dunno," he said, his brows furrowing as he looked at the variety of flavors, "there's a lot."

"How about vanilla?" You suggested, "it's a classic."

"Okay," he nodded.

"I'll have two scoops of chocolate," Hope declared.

"Just one for you, little miss," Elijah said, a smile on his face.

She pouted but didn't put up a fight, and you couldn't help but admire his ability to handle a toddler so well.

Elijah looked at you, an eyebrow raised, "and what would you like?"

"Oh, I'm fine," you said, "I don't want to impose."

"Nonsense," he said, "my treat,"

"Alright," you said, "I'll take chocolate."

He nodded and ordered four ice creams, handing one to each of you.

"Thank you," you said.

"You're welcome," he replied.

The two of you walked back over to the bench, sitting down and watching as the kids ran around eating their ice creams.

"So, how long have you been in New Orleans?" He asked, taking a bite of his own ice cream.

"Not long," you said, "only a couple of weeks."

"And you're liking it so far?"

"I am," you nodded, "the people are nice, and the weather is great."

"Do you have any family or friends here?"

"No, it's just me and James," you said, "we needed a change of pace, and I always wanted to live in New Orleans."

"Well, I hope you and James both settle in nicely," he said.

"Thank you," you replied.

The conversation was easy between the two of you, he was polite and charming, with a warm smile that made your heart flutter.

Your ice cream had started to melt, dripping onto your hand. He swiftly handed you his handkerchief, and you smiled, thanking him.

You watched as James chased Hope around the playground, their giggles and squeals of joy making you smile. It was so nice to see him playing with another kid, making a friend.

Elijah was equally enthralled, watching his niece run around with a grin on his face.

"You're really good with her," you said, "I can tell how much you love her."

"She's the best part of my life," he replied, "I would do anything for her."

His words tugged at your heartstrings, he was so open and honest. There was no trace of arrogance or self-importance, only pure love for his family.

"Pardon me if I'm being too forward," he said, "but would you be interested in getting coffee sometime?"

You could feel your cheeks heating up, his gaze was so intense, and you found yourself nodding.

"I would like that," you said. "But it's so hard for me to find a sitter,"

"Well," he said, a smile forming on his lips, "Hope loves your son, I'm sure she would enjoy playing with him again. Perhaps, we can schedule a playdate for the two of them, and we can have some coffee."

"I think I would like that very much," you said, your heart beating faster as he grinned.

The two of you exchanged numbers and then made arrangements for a play date the following week. As the afternoon came to an end, Elijah and Hope said their goodbyes.

You couldn't stop smiling as you drove home, your thoughts filled with Elijah and the coffee date you had planned. Maybe New Orleans would be good for more than just a fresh start.

It was a beautiful day outside, the sun was shining and there was a gentle breeze blowing. The perfect weather for a play date.

You had James in the back seat of your car, strapped safely into his car seat, driving to the address Elijah had given you. He was excited, eager to play with his new friend.

As you pulled up to the building, you had to admit that it was impressive. The exterior was in the style of classic French Quarter architecture with a large courtyard, wrought iron balconies, and lush greenery. It was beyond anything you could afford, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

"Wowwwww," James said, looking out the window.

"It's pretty, huh?" You said, unbuckling him and helping him out of the car.

He held your hand tightly as the two of you walked towards the front door. You felt a little nervous, unsure what to expect, but as soon as you rang the bell, the door swung open, revealing a very excited Hope.

"James!" She cried, throwing her arms around him.

He giggled, hugging her back.

"Hi," Elijah appeared behind Hope, a smile on his face, "thank you for coming."

"Of course," you said, "thank you for having us."

"Come in, come in," he said, stepping aside, "make yourself at home."

You stepped inside, taking in the beautiful interior. Everything was immaculate, the furniture and decor were elegant and sophisticated.

"Your house is so big!" James exclaimed.

"I suppose it is," Elijah chuckled.

"Hope, why don't you show James the playroom?" He suggested, "I'm sure he would love to see your toys."

She nodded and grabbed James' hand, leading him down the hall. You couldn't help but smile as you watched them run off, they were clearly going to be good friends.

"So," Elijah said, his voice low, "I thought maybe I could make you some coffee, or perhaps tea?"

"Coffee sounds great," you said, trying not to sound too eager.

"Wonderful," he said, "follow me."

You followed him into the kitchen, taking a seat at the island. He was moving around the kitchen, brewing coffee and setting out pastries. The place was just as beautiful as the rest of the house, with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.

"You have a lovely home," you said.

"Thank you," he said, "it's been in my family for many centuries."

"That's a lot of memories," you mused.

"Yes," he said, a distant look in his eye, "there are a lot of memories here."

He poured the coffee into two mugs, setting them on the counter. You added a bit of milk and sugar, stirring it slowly.

"Tell me," he said, leaning against the counter, "why did you decide to move to New Orleans?"

"Well," you took a sip of your coffee, "I wanted a change, a fresh start... James' father left when I told him I was pregnant and I needed a place where we could start over."

"That must have been difficult," he said, his eyes full of understanding.

"It was," you admitted, "but I'm doing better now."

"I'm glad to hear that," he said.

You couldn't help but appreciate how easy the conversation was with him. He was charming and charismatic, and there was an air of mystery about him.

"What about you?" You asked, "what's your story?"

"My story is quite long," he said, a smile on his face, "perhaps another time."

You couldn't deny that you were intrigued, wanting to know more about this man and his family. But you also didn't want to pry.

The conversation drifted from one topic to another. You talked about everything from the books you were reading, to art and music. He made you laugh with his dry sense of humor, and you found yourself growing more and more attracted to him.

"Uncle lijah!" Hope's voice rang through the kitchen, she came running over and jumped into his arms.

"Yes, little one?" He asked, his expression softening as he looked at her.

"Can James and I have a snack?"

"Of course," he said, "would you like a pastry?"

She nodded eagerly, and he set her down on the counter, placing a plate with a pastry in front of her.

"Beignets!!" She exclaimed.

"Have you ever had a beignet?" Elijah asked, looking at James.

"No," he shook his head.

"Would you like to try one?"

James nodded and Elijah handed him a beignet, which he happily ate, quickly covering himself in powdered sugar.

"Oh," Elijah chuckled, grabbing a napkin and wiping James' face, "it seems you're quite the messy eater."

You watched the way he treated your son, it was obvious how much he loved children, and it warmed your heart.

"Sorry," James mumbled, his cheeks flushing.

"It's alright," Elijah said, "we all get messy sometimes."

You sipped your coffee, admiring the man in front of you. He was unlike anyone you had ever met, and you were beginning to fall for him.

The date ended far too soon, with Elijah walking you and James to the car.

"I had a wonderful time," he said, helping strap James into his car seat.

"Me too," you replied.

He straightened up, his face mere inches from yours. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked into his eyes.

"Perhaps we can do this again?" He asked, his voice low.

"I would like that," you murmured, your heart racing.

He leaned closer and kissed you on the cheek, his hands resting gently on your hips. You felt your cheeks heat up, a blush spreading across your face.

"Until next time," he said, smiling.

"Until next time," you echoed.

He stepped back and you got into the car, still reeling from the kiss. James was happily babbling away in the back seat, telling you about the toys he had played with.

As you pulled away from the curb, you couldn't help but glance in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Elijah and Hope waving goodbye.

"Hope said her daddy and mommy are vampires and werewolves!" James said, "and she said that she's a witch and a werewolf!"

"Did she now?" You said, chuckling, kids had the wildest imaginations.

"A-and uncle lijah is the oldest vampire in the world!" He said, his eyes wide.

You laughed, shaking your head. Kids were adorable, and James was no exception. He was a little ball of sunshine, and you were grateful for the happiness he brought into your life.

You put the finishing touches on your outfit, glancing in the mirror. You were nervous, it had been nearly six years since you went on a date, and... well... All that comes with that. You spent far too long getting ready, even re-applying your makeup and changing clothes a couple of times.

You wanted to look perfect, and you felt like it was important that you do so. After all, you were about to go on a date with one of the most attractive men you had ever seen, and if you had a chance with him, you were going to make sure you gave it your best.

"What are you doing mommy?" James had wandered into your room, and you smiled at him, kneeling down to his level.

"I'm getting ready for my date, remember?"

He tilted his head to the side, looking thoughtful. "Is Uncle Lijah taking you on a date?"

"Yeah, he is."

"Why?"

"Because I like him, and I think he likes me." You blushed a little, feeling a little embarrassed. "He makes me happy."

James giggled, "He's really nice, mommy. You should marry him."

"Oh, I don't know about that. We just met, honey." You chuckled, smoothing his hair down.

"But he makes you happy, you get all red and smiley when he's around," James said, grinning.

You couldn't contain the smile on your face, because he was right. You did get happy and smiley when Elijah was around, and it wasn't just because of how handsome he was. The way he was with Hope and James, it was clear that he was a good man.

"I'll keep that in mind," you said, kissing his forehead. "Now, why don't you go grab your bag? Cami will soon be here with Hope, and the three of you are going to have a sleepover,"

"Okay!" James said, running off to his room.

You stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror, giving yourself a once over. You had chosen a simple yet elegant outfit, a silk dress with a pair of heels. It was the kind of dress that was comfortable, but also made you feel sexy.

There was a knock on the door, and you hurried to answer it. Cami was waiting at the door with Hope, the two of them grinning at you.

"Thank you so much for doing this," you said, Elijah had connected you with Cami and insisted on paying her for her babysitting services.

"It's no problem," Cami said, "I'm always happy to help."

"You look pretty," Hope said, her eyes wide.

"Thank you, honey," you smiled, ruffling her hair.

James came running back with his backpack, and you helped him put it on.

"You have fun, okay? And behave for Cami," you said, kissing his forehead.

"Are you having a sleepover too? With my uncle lijah?" Hope asked.

You chuckled, making eye contact with Cami and blushing, "Something like that."

"Yay!" She clapped her hands together, and Cami laughed, shaking her head.

"Come on," Cami said, taking both of the kids' hands, "we'll see you later."

"Bye mommy," James waved as they walked out the door.

"Bye, honey," you said, closing the door behind them.

Your stomach was filled with butterflies, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself. You couldn't wait for your date. You glanced at the clock, he was due to arrive any moment.

There was a knock on the door, and you took a deep breath, smoothing down your dress. You opened the door, your eyes widening when you saw him. He looked handsome, wearing a dark suit and a tie, a bouquet of dark red roses in his hand.

"Hi," you breathed, your heart racing.

"Hello," he smiled, handing you the roses, "for you."

"Thank you," you said, taking them, "let me put them in some water."

You turned around and walked towards the kitchen, finding a vase and filling it with water, carefully arranging the flowers in it.

"They're beautiful," you said, turning to him.

He was still standing outside on your step, which you thought was a bit odd. But he was incredibly old fashioned, so you figured he was just trying to be polite.

"I'm glad you like them," he said, "shall we?"

You walked out the door, locking it behind you. Elijah offered you his arm, and you gladly took it, smiling up at him.

"I hope you like Italian," he said, opening the door to his car and helping you inside.

The restaurant he took you to was one of the best in the city, it had a Michelin star and was known for its romantic atmosphere. There were roses everywhere, climbing up the walls and filling the room with their sweet scent. The candlelight flickered, casting a warm glow.

"This is so nice," you said, as Elijah pulled out your chair for you.

You sat across from him at the table, a bottle of red wine between you. He poured you a glass, and you took a sip, sighing happily.

"I'm glad you like it," he said, his eyes never leaving yours.

The food was delicious, and the company was even better. Afterwards, you walked hand-in-hand down the street, the night sky twinkling above you. It was a perfect evening, and you didn't want it to end. You were definitely going to be having a sleepover tonight.

"Would you like to have another drink back at my place?" Elijah asked, a smirk on his lips.

"I'd love to," you said, knowing what that meant.

The drive back to his house was full of sexual tension, his hand resting on your thigh. Your heart was racing, anticipation building within you.

He pulled up to his house, helping you out of the car. You walked up to the door, feeling a bit nervous, and when you got nervous you tended to start blabbing.

"My son said the funniest thing after our coffee date," you said, laughing, "he was talking about vampires and witches and werewolves and... it was so adorable."

You expected him to laugh, or perhaps chuckle. But instead he grew quiet, and his expression became unreadable.

"Is everything okay?" You asked, your brows furrowing.

"Yes, of course," he said, leading you inside.

"Are you sure?" You asked, sensing something was off, you had a sudden, terrible gut feeling that you said something wrong.

He turned to face you, his expression serious, "I really like you," he began, "and I know we've only known each other for a short time, but... I think there's something here. Something worth pursuing."

"I agree," you said, your heart skipping a beat. You took a nervous step towards him, wanting to be close to him.

He took your hand in his, looking into your eyes. "But I need you to understand something," he said, his voice low.

"What is it?" You asked, your pulse racing.

"There are things about my family that are... different," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "things that may frighten you."

You were taken aback by his words, and your mind was spinning. What was he talking about? He pulled you in close, his face mere inches from yours.

"Please know, that I would never hurt you," he said, his voice soft, "but I need to be honest with you."

You swallowed hard, not quite sure what to say. His eyes darted to your lips, and you leaned in, kissing him softly. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he kissed you back, the passion and desire evident in his touch.

"Tell me," you breathed, looking up at him.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes searching yours. He looked hesitant, as if he was afraid of scaring you off.

"I'm a vampire," he whispered.

You burst out laughing, he wasn't even smiling, which made it all the more funny. You didn't realize how funny he was, it just made you like him all the more.

"You're a vampire," you giggled, shaking your head.

"I am," he said, his voice firm, and the smile faded from your lips.

"I-I..." You trailed off, unsure what to say. You took a step back, needing some space. Did he actually believe that? Was he having some sort of mental break? Or was he just taking the joke too far?

"This is a joke, right?" You asked, trying to keep the panic out of your voice.

"I'm afraid not," he said, "it's the truth."

"You can't be serious," you said, taking another step back. "Vampires aren't real,"

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this way," he said, his voice sincere, "but I couldn't keep it from you any longer. I had to be honest with you."

"I think you might need to get some help Elijah, raising a kid alone can be stressful, sometimes it does things to your mind..." you said it gently and as softly as you could.

He chuckled, "I'm not crazy, and I'm not making this up. Would it be easier to show you?"

You blinked, wondering if this was some kind of trick, maybe you'd gone out with a crazy person. Rich people can be so strange.

"Show me?" You asked, your voice a little shaky. "What are you going to do? Turn into a bat?"

You felt such sadness, you believed you had finally found someone that you had a real connection with. Who could be a father figure to your son, and someone that you could love, but it was all a delusion.

"Please don't be frightened," he said, his voice soft.

You watched with equal horror and fascination as his face began to change. His eyes turning completely black like a demon, dark veins appearing under his eyes, his teeth sharpened into fangs.

You screamed, falling to the floor. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. It couldn't be real. But it was.

"This can't be happening," you whispered, your body trembling.

Elijah knelt down in front of you, his expression sympathetic. "I know it's a lot to take in."

"W-what are you going to do to me?" You asked, tears rolling down your cheeks.

He let out a sigh, reaching out and wiping away your tears. "I would never hurt you," he said, his voice gentle, "never."

You could tell that he was sincere, and you felt some of your fear dissipate. You trusted him, despite his revelation, despite the fact that he was a vampire, a supernatural being that should only exist in horror movies and books.

"Fuck, you're really a vampire," you murmured, tears streaming down your face.

"Yes," he said, his voice gentle, his hand reaching out for you.

You took his hand, and he helped you up, leading you over to the couch.

"How old are you?" You asked, wiping away your tears.

"About one thousand," he said, shrugging, "give or take."

"Oh god," you whispered, you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. Somehow the knowledge of his true age was more shocking than him being a supernatural creature.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking concerned.

"Yeah, I'm just..." You trailed off, shaking your head. "How are you so normal?"

He chuckled, "what's normal?"

"I don't know, I just... I didn't expect this," you said, looking down at the ground.

"It's not something anyone is meant to expect," he chuckled, taking your hands in his.

He still felt the same, just warm and soft, not cold or clammy like the vampires in movies. He just felt like a regular person, not a monster.

"Does Hope know?" You asked, wondering how a child could learn about something like this.

"Yes," he said, a smile tugging at his lips, "she's a... Special combination of creatures."

"What?" You asked, your brows furrowing.

"It is a rather long and complicated story," he said, smiling.

"Well, I have all the time in the world," you said, a small smile on your face.

"So do I," he grinned.

He spent the next hour calmly explaining the nature of his existence, his family, and the supernatural world. He wasn't just any old vampire, but the first of his kind, an original.

You sat back against the couch, trying to comprehend everything he had just told you.

He stood and walked over to the fireplace, placing a few fresh logs on the fire. You thought about how many fires he must have made, that electricity wasn't around for most of his life. He had seen history happen, had been there through so much.

"What does it feel like?" You asked, curiously.

He smiled slightly, looking into the flames, "I don't remember any other way," he said softly, "but... There is an energy, a power that surges through my veins. It can be intoxicating, the thrill of the hunt, the feeling of immortality."

"It sounds..." You trailed off, not quite sure what to say.

"Frightening?" He supplied, looking at you.

"Yes," you admitted, biting your lip.

"That's understandable," he said, walking over to sit next to you on the couch.

You looked into his eyes, and all you saw was warmth and sincerity. "I'm not afraid of you though," you said softly.

"I am glad," he said, "but I understand if this changes things between us."

"You're still the same man," you said, smiling. "Just... More magical."

He laughed, a deep sound that reverberated through the room. It made you feel warm inside, and you couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"Magical," he chuckled, shaking his head, "if you say so."

"I do," you said, a grin on your face. "You're still the same gentleman I had coffee with. The one who makes me smile, and makes my heart race."

"Oh, I know all about your fluttering heart," he smirked, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"You do, huh?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I can hear it," he said, leaning in close, his lips brushing against your ear, "your pulse quickens whenever I'm near. Like right now,"

His lips met yours in a tender kiss, his hand cupping your cheek. You sighed, your eyes closing as his lips moved against yours. He was being so gentle and hesitant, not wanting to scare you away.

But you wanted him, and you knew there was no point in fighting it. He made you feel safe and protected, he treated your son like he was his own. It didn't matter what he was, not when it came to how he made you feel.

His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You slid your hands up his chest, feeling his muscles underneath his shirt, knowing how much power he held. But he was gentle, his touch was feather-light as he caressed your skin.

He pulled away, his breath hot against your lips, his eyes searching yours. You smiled, giving him the silent permission he needed. He leaned down and captured your lips once again, his kiss growing more passionate. You tangled your fingers in his hair, his hands sliding down your back to grip your hips.

You pulled away slightly, feeling a bit nervous, it had been so long since you were intimate with anyone, and learning that he was a vampire just added an extra layer of intensity.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his thumb stroking your cheek.

"Nothing," you smiled, "it's just... It's been a long time since..." You trailed off, hoping he would get the gist.

"Since you've had sex?" He asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Yeah," you blushed, looking away. "With James, and working, and everything... It just hasn't happened."

"We don't have to do anything, we can just talk," he said, his voice sincere.

"No," you shook your head, "I want this, I just..."

"You're nervous," he finished, his lips curling into a smile.

"Yeah," you said, feeling embarrassed.

"That's alright, we'll go slow," he said, kissing you softly, his hands sliding up your sides, slipping underneath your dress.

His fingers grazed your thighs, slowly inching higher until they reached the edge of your panties. You could tell he was skilled, just by the way he was touching you, kissing you. He seemed to know exactly what you needed, where to touch, how hard or soft.

He smiled, loving how responsive you were, your breath catching in your throat, a moan escaping your lips. He kissed your cheek and stood up, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his muscular chest.

You leaned back against the sofa and watched him, your eyes roaming over his body. He was absolutely gorgeous, and he was all yours.

"So... You've looked this good for one thousand years?" You giggled, blabbering once again.

He laughed, his shirt hanging open, his chest bare. You swallowed hard, seeing the defined lines of his abs, the broadness of his shoulders. He was perfect, not a blemish on his skin.

"Something like that," he smirked, sliding his shirt off and letting it fall to the floor.

"Wow," you murmured, drinking him in.

"Wow yourself," he grinned, kneeling down in front of you, his hands on your hips, tugging you to the edge of the sofa.

You squeaked, blushing, and he chuckled, leaning over you, his eyes sparkling. He kissed you softly, his hands moving slowly up your thighs, pushing your dress up higher and higher. You were already soaked, and he had barely touched you.

He kissed his way down your neck, his lips soft against your skin. You shivered, closing your eyes as his hands moved up your body, you raised your arms and let him pull your dress over your head. He tossed it aside, his eyes raking over your body, his pupils blown with desire.

You looked away shyly, his intense gaze making you feel exposed. Your body wasn't the same since you had a child, stretch marks, and a little extra weight. You were nervous, and a little bit scared that he wouldn't find you attractive.

"You are beautiful," he whispered, cupping your chin and making you look at him.

"Thank you," you smiled, his words soothing your anxiety.

He kissed you, his lips firm against yours. You kissed him back, your hands moving up his chest, his skin hot to the touch. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, earning a growl from him.

He kissed down your neck, his hands sliding over your breasts, his thumb brushing over your nipples. You gasped, arching your back, pleasure shooting through you. He smirked, continuing his exploration, kissing down your stomach.

He tugged your panties down with one hand, the other splayed on your chest, pushing your back down against the sofa. You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath, anticipation building inside of you.

He pushed your legs apart, his tongue darting out and licking a slow, teasing line up your slit. You gasped, your body jerking, your hips rocking against him. He chuckled, the vibrations making you shiver.

"So sensitive," he purred, his lips pressing a kiss against your inner thigh.

You groaned, gripping the cushions, his breath hot against your pussy. He licked another slow, torturous line, and then his tongue flicked over your clit. You moaned, your eyes rolling back, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Here was a creature, an old monument that time had not eroded, kneeling before you, his tongue buried deep inside of you. You could not believe that such a beautiful man could want you, that he could be so enamored by you.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that his name escaped your lips, the sound a breathless whisper.

"Elijah," you moaned, your legs trembling.

He hummed, his warm hands holding your thighs, keeping you in place. Your mind was a whirlwind of sensations, pleasure coursing through you as his tongue circled your clit.

You writhed, moaning, gasping, and whimpering. He seemed to enjoy every sound, his eyes looking up at you, his dark irises full of lust and adoration.

Your orgasm washed over you, making you cry out, your body shaking. He licked and sucked, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. You felt every bit of tension leave your body, the world fading away as you came down from your high.

You began to giggle, feeling lighter than you had in a long time. You were a little bit delirious, but in the best kind of way.

"That was amazing," you sighed, looking down at him, your smile wide.

"I aim to please," he grinned, his cheeks flushed.

You sat up, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it turned you on even more. He chuckled, his hands cupping your ass, pulling you closer to him, bringing your legs around his waist.

"You taste divine," he said, his eyes burning with lust, "and those sounds you make... They're exquisite."

You blushed, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He was too much, the way he made you feel was so overwhelming.

"You trust me?" He whispered, his fingers trailing down your back.

You looked at him and slowly nodded, curious as to what he meant. He smiled, his eyes warm and soft, a slight glimmer in them, you felt his arms tighten around you and suddenly you were moving faster than you could comprehend.

A second later, you were lying on his bed, his body hovering above yours. You blinked, confused, then smiled.

"Fancy trick," you giggled.

"Just one of many," he winked, kissing you softly.

You reached between the two of you and unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of the loops. His eyes followed your movements, his breathing becoming more ragged as you unbuttoned his pants and slid them down his hips.

His erection strained against his boxers, the fabric tight around his length. You gently ran your hand along the outline of his cock, your mouth watering at the size of it.

"What other tricks can you show me?" You teased, biting your lip.

"Oh darling," he growled, his eyes flashing, "you have no idea."

You felt a rush of wetness between your thighs, the tone of his voice turning you on even more. A small part of you was intimidated by him, he was a creature that could rip you apart with his bare hands. But there was a gentleness to him, a kindness that put you at ease.

"Seeing you in my bed is a dream come true," he said, his voice low.

"A dream, huh?" You giggled, teasing him.

"A fantasy," he said, his hands moving over your skin, his lips ghosting over your jaw.

"Oh really?" You asked, tilting your head to the side, giving him better access. "What else does a vampire like yourself fantasize about?"

He smirked, his teeth nipping at your neck. "I'll show you," he purred.

You closed your eyes, a moan slipping from your lips as he gently bit your skin, not enough to break the skin, but just enough pressure to make your blood sing.

He pressed a kiss against the spot and then lifted himself up, hovering above you. You took the opportunity to slide his boxers down, his cock springing free.

You spread your legs wider, inviting him in, and he settled between them, his body pressed against yours. He kissed you, his tongue sliding over yours, his cock rubbing against your pussy. You whimpered, wanting him inside of you, needing to feel him.

He chuckled, his hands moving down to your thighs, lifting them up around his waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close, kissing him desperately. He smiled against your lips and eased himself inside of you.

You gasped, the feeling of being filled by him, stretching around his cock, was exquisite. He continued to kiss you, his hips moving slowly, pushing deeper and deeper into you.

It was hot, slow and sticky, his body pressed against yours, his lips on your skin. It was the most intimate moment you'd ever shared with someone, and it was perfect.

He began to move faster, his lips moving down your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin. You tilted your head back, offering him better access, his tongue licking a hot stripe up your throat.

A sudden, anxious thought entered your mind, and you froze. What if he bit you? Do vampires expect that during sex? Was that a thing?

He noticed your hesitation, and slowed his movements, looking at you, a worried expression on his face.

"What is it, darling?" He asked, stroking your cheek.

"Nothing," you said, trying to hide your concern.

He stopped moving, his brow furrowed. "If I'm hurting you, or you want to stop, just say the word," he said, his eyes searching yours.

"It's not that," you said, looking away.

"Then what is it?" He asked, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your hip.

"Do you... Bite, during sex?" You asked, blushing.

He smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Only if you want me to," he said, leaning down and kissing you softly, his hips starting to move again.

"Does it hurt?" You asked, breaking the kiss.

"It can," he admitted, "but not the way I would do it."

You looked at him, a part of you intrigued by the idea. You couldn't deny that the thought of him sinking his fangs into your skin was a little bit arousing.

"You're curious," he smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"A little," you confessed, "it's a new experience, and it's kind of..." You hesitated, wondering if you were ready for that.

"Kinky?" He offered, raising an eyebrow.

You giggled, "Yeah, kind of."

He laughed, his hips thrusting into you, making you gasp. "I could bite you, here," he said, his thumb brushing against the pulse point in your neck, "just a little bite, not enough to cause any real damage."

"You won't... You won't kill me, or turn me, or anything, right?" You asked, feeling a little foolish.

"No, darling, I promise," he said, smiling reassuringly, leaning down and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

You kissed him back, feeling a rush of heat pool in your core. You had never done anything like this before, but it was Elijah, and you trusted him.

"Do it," you whispered, your body aching for him.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, making sure you were serious. Then he smiled, a smile full of mischief, his eyes glowing with desire.

You held his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. You watched his eyes change, the soft brown eyes turning completely black, veins appearing underneath them. You should have been scared, but you weren't.

"Don't be afraid," he said softly, his voice taking on a deep, husky tone.

You nodded, touching his cheek, feeling the veins beneath his skin. He kissed your palm, his eyes on you the entire time. You felt a rush of warmth course through you, a sudden burst of confidence.

He lowered his head, his lips brushing against the hollow of your throat, his breath hot against your skin.

You could feel his fangs, his teeth sharp against your flesh. You swallowed hard, waiting for the pain, but it never came.

Instead, he kissed you, his fangs scraping against your skin, sending a thrill through you. He was gentle, and his kisses were slow, soft. His hips still moving against you, the rhythm slow and steady.

You sighed, your eyes fluttering closed and you felt his fangs break the skin, his lips sucking gently at the wound.

It was like nothing you had ever experienced, the feeling was intoxicating, the pleasure was so intense it was almost painful.

Your heart was racing, your skin was flushed, your body trembling with ecstasy. He groaned against your skin, his grip on you tightening, his hips moving faster.

"Elijah," you breathed, clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

He growled, his hands sliding up your body, his fingertips ghosting over your skin. He pulled his mouth away from your neck, and you whimpered at the loss, the wound still bleeding slightly.

You opened your eyes, blinking up at him. His eyes were back to their usual brown, the veins underneath them gone, a smear of blood on his lips. He was looking down at you with a mixture of lust and awe, his expression full of reverence.

You moaned, clinging to him, his movements pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You couldn't stop yourself, and neither could he.

Your orgasm ripped through you, pleasure like a tidal wave crashing over you, and Elijah groaned, his own release following quickly. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hips still thrusting, riding out the last waves of his pleasure.

You opened your eyes, and reached up to touch his fangs, your chest heaving, still trying to catch your breath.

"They're sharp," you observed.

"Yes," he chuckled, "they are."

"It didn't hurt," you said, still a bit shocked.

"I made sure of that," he smiled.

"Thank you," you said, leaning up and kissing him.

He kissed you back, his arms tightening around you. You snuggled into his embrace, his body warm and solid.

"Are all vampires that good in bed?" You teased, grinning.

"Maybe, I haven't exactly polled the rest of the community," he smirked, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"Hmm, maybe I should go out and ask around," you joked, laughing.

He chuckled, pulling you closer. "I'm not a fan of sharing," he said, kissing the top of your head.

"I'm not either," you smiled, your hands moving over his body.

"Good," he said, smiling, his eyes sparkling.

"I love you, Elijah," you said, looking up at him, your heart full of affection.

He smiled, a real, genuine smile, the kind that lit up his eyes and made his dimples pop.

"I love you, too, darling," he said, kissing you, his lips soft and sweet.

The two of you laid there for a while, holding each other, enjoying the afterglow. You were content, your body sore and satisfied, your mind buzzing with bliss. Elijah's arms were strong around you, his body warm and solid.

"Tomorrow we should take the kids to this museum downtown," he said, his finger lazily tracing patterns on your skin.

"Mhmm," you hummed, enjoying the feeling of his touch.

"It's supposed to be a fun exhibit on history and mythology," he continued, his voice a soft rumble in his chest. "Since James is so interested in vampires and the like, it would be a perfect opportunity."

You sighed, snuggling closer to him. "Sounds great," you mumbled, your eyes starting to close.

You heard him chuckle, and then the room fell silent, the only sound the beating of his heart, a soft, steady thumping. You could feel the rhythm, and it was soothing, lulling you into a peaceful slumber. It was the first time in a long time you'd slept so soundly.

This fresh start in New Orleans was going to be the best thing that had happened to you in a long time, and with Elijah by your side, you knew everything was going to work out.

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #hope mikaelson #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

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wosomaanum · 6 months ago

Text

Pains | Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: You we’re on day two of your period, and it hurt everywhere. You’re girlfriend, Jessie was there to help.

Warnings: anything to do with periods, medication

Notes: Short

————————

You were wrapped up in bed, clutching your stomach. You felt horrible and just miserable. Not only were you having severe cramps and dealing with your period, but you had a horrible headache.

“Hey babe, I saw this really cool resta-“ your girlfriend, Jessie is soon cut off by her own concern as she enters the room - her speech that trailed along the hallway coming to a halt.

“Baby what’s wrong?” Jess says instinctively, her freckles highlighted by the sun hitting her face - perfectly framing her features. All of which you adored.

“I promise it’s not that bad. I’m fine, really.” You knew you weren’t, and you knew Jessie knew that too.

Jessie cutely grumbled in a soft tone. “I know you’re not. Are you on your period, is it cramps? What do you need me to get you?” A sudden plethora of questions escaped her mouth.

“Jessie I said I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. I’m gonna get you a few things. Just stay here.”

You told her not to bother, but your words fell on deaf ears.

Soon, Jessie returned. A hot water bottle clutched in her arm and some medication and water in the other. She speed walked over to your side and crouched down next to the bed as she examined your face.

“Hey hey. It’s okay I’m here.” She comforts you, as she places the hot water bottle on your stomach. She brushes some loose strands of hair out of your face.

“I’ve got some paracetamol okay? Come on let’s just sit up for a moment.” She gently guides you so your back is against the headboard before she hands you your medication. You drink it, reluctantly - knowing your too stubborn to let others take care of you.

"Here you go, love," she says softly, handing you the medication and water. "This should help a bit.”

You didn’t grow up in a house of affection. You weren’t use to it and it made you feel awkward. You were stubborn, and you knew it but Jessie made you better. Overtime, she made a dent in your stubborn exterior slowly and slowly peeling back the layers. Of course, there was still times you felt like you were a burden but Jessie always reassured you that you weren’t.

The truth is you weren’t.

———————

Throughout the day, Jessie ensures you are as comfortable as possible. She prepares meals that are not only nutritious but also easy on your stomach. Whether it's a bowl of hearty vegetable soup or a plate of fresh fruit, she prioritizes your well-being with every bite.

"How about some soup for lunch?" she suggests. "I made your favorite vegetable soup.

"That sounds perfect," you reply, grateful for her thoughtfulness.

Understanding that rest is crucial, she encourages you to take it easy, often taking over household chores to allow you some much-needed relaxation.

"Why don't you lie down for a bit? I'll handle the laundry," she says, giving you a reassuring smile.

When the pain gets intense, Jessie is there with a stash of your favorite chocolates and a comforting hand. She’ll sit with you, holding your hand, or massaging your lower back when the cramps are unbearable.

"Do you need anything else?" she asks, her eyes full of concern. "Let me know if the cramps get worse."

"Just having you here helps a lot," you admit, squeezing her hand.

In the evenings, Jessie suggests watching your favorite shows or movies, a welcome distraction.

"How about we watch that new comedy series you've been wanting to see?" she offers, dimming the lights and creating a cozy atmosphere. You snuggle up together on the couch, her warmth and care transforming these difficult days into manageable ones.

Jessie’s unwavering support not only eases the physical discomfort but also makes you feel profoundly loved and cared for. "I don't know what I'd do without you," you whisper, snuggled against her.

"You'll never have to find out," she replies, kissing your forehead gently.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #period cramps #period #portland thorns #canada #canwnt #jflem #woso #woso fanfics #woso x reader

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tac-the-unseen · 5 months ago

Note

I saw on your previous poll you had down Headcannons for Pinhead, can I pretty please get some fluffy writing for the Cenobites 🥺

Of course, I've kind of been itching to write for them lol

Pinhead and Cenobites x Reader

•Despite everything all the Cenobites are incredibly sweet and kind

•When you reach the point of having a relationship with them They treat you with the atmos respect

•The weather that relationship is a Friendship, romantic, sexual, or platonic

•Pinhead of course likes taking charge. He's calmly authoritative, but very gentle

•D.T has a cold and mysterious outer shell but when she lets you in she's a deeply sensitive person

•Chatter is over all a very laid-back guy, he can get pretty aggressive but only when It comes to his job

•Butterball honestly just kind of waddles around and smacks his lips.

•They're all pretty decent cuddlers, but they all have some faults

•Pinhead is a great cuddler but only sitting up….. He can't really lay down….

•D.T is great if you wanna lay on someone's stomach, can't really get close to her head either.

•Chatter can cuddle in any position, be prepared to have the breath squeezed out of you, He's an aggressive guy

•Butterball is where things get a little complicated. You can't really lay on him, Well he doesn't mind the pain, you might mind the blood all over you…. And the exposed hooks…

•Butterball is good at side cuddles though!

•Pinhead likes to ask you moral/ethical questions (Like the trolley problem,or kidney problem). He's the kind of guy to take the buzzfeed quizzes for fun

•D.T’s guilty pleasure is reality TV, She cannot get enough!

•Chatter and Butterball like it when you read to them

•They don't let you touch the lament configuration without them present

•They do their best to get the leviathans approval of you

•They let you take your time turning into a Cenobite.

•They want to turn you so they can be with you for eternity, but they also want to let you live your best life.

•If you happen to Like ASMR Chatter has no problem being next to your ears and chattering into them

•Pinhead will never let you waste money getting a Piercing, He's a very experience piercer and doesn't like the idea of somebody else touching you like that

•If you have any Tattoos they will spend hours examining them. They want to hear any and all meaning behind it. Stories on why you got it, how, and who did it.

•Butterball like to lick any and all wounds you get

•D.T likes brain teasers and especially likes to do trivia with you

•fiercely protective of you

•You are the creator of scary dog privileges

•They like taking you into hell and showing you around

•If you're okay with watching live torture, They will 10,000% stop into random rooms, Let you know they're backstories, And why the punishment fits the crime

•Pinhead teaches you how to navigate the labyrinth

•You managed to sneak ButterBall into an all-you-can-eat buffet, You've been his favorite person ever since

Thanks for reading <3

Sorry I'm taking so long!

I have three more requests and a Poll prompt! Trying to get them out as fast as possible, but still be quality material.

Sorry!

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damagdsnow · 9 months ago

Text

Fix my reputation

Pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

Summary: You and Coryo are together for mutual benefits, he needs a well known woman by his side to look vulnerable and loving during the presidential elections and you need your reputation to be fixed after your unforgivable scandal.

Tag: fake dating, slow burn, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, manipulative/soft Snow, strong and independent reader (as she should), fluff, angst, power play, smut, fingering, thigh riding, switching sub/dom, degradation, denied orgasm, piv, dirty talk, overstimulation, oral (fem/male receiving), praise

Chapter 1, chapter 2;

aesthetic chapter one, aesthetic chapter two;

Tw: Snow being Snow, mention of alcohol, panic/anxiety attack, mention of blood, mention of parent death, physical aggression (not detailed and not from Snow)

Word count: 11.3k

note: before reading this I recommend you to read the first chapter here. Also, thank you so much for all the love and support on chapter one I didn’t expect all of this, I love you guys ❤️

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

The first time you had met Coriolanus was when Dr. Gaul had announced he was going to be her apprentice Gamemaker during the next Hunger Games.

At that time, you got a job as a health advisor, essentially you monitored tributes' vital signs and whether they were injured, you formulated unique medicine so mentors and sponsors could help their favorites heal faster and be a step ahead of the others. You were used to stitch wounds, examining patients, making prescriptions. This was a whole new thing to you. Dr. Gaul said to you that you were one of the most qualified doctors in that department, this is the reason why she pressured you to ‘amaze’ her.

”When I read your qualifications I was shocked to learn you were looking for employment,” was the first thing Dr. Gaul said to you when she requested to meet you.

You were in her laboratory, a bright room filled with gruesome creatures, dead and alive. She was standing in front of you, with her voluminous curly hair and her reddish long tunic, while she was feeding some sorta of genetically modified fish.

“I was looking for some thrilling experience,” you started fidgeting your fingers, “making me useful for the good of Panem.”

You practiced saying these words many times before meeting her, what were you supposed to say? That you desperately needed a job? That as soon as you found another position you would quit immediately?

”Your idea to formulate a drug that would help tributes in the arena?” With a long tweezer she dropped a pink cube in the small pool, ”so original,” she smiled while feeding the fishes with more cubes.

“You know what it means right? The games will last longer, people spending money on their helpless and injured tributes, mentors fighting to get the best sponsor,” she continued, her icy eyes were staring at you, “this is going to revolutionise the games.”

“I’m glad you liked my proposal,” you looked down, wondering if it was better to make eye contact with her or watch those horrific creatures with long fangs and thorny tails.

“Liked? I absolutely adore your way of thinking,” she put the tweezer back on a metal tray. “No one was able to surprise me since–” she paused and you looked back at her, ”do you know Coriolanus Snow? You two would get along well.”

At that time you wondered who he could be. Coriolanus Snow? His name sounded familiar to you. Only when Dr. Gaul introduced him to the department as an apprentice, you recognised his face.

You both graduated from the Academy, he was just a year older than you, and during the tenth annual Hunger Games his name was popular amongst students. Even though you went to the same school, you had never talked to him. Until a couple of months before the reaping, Dr. Gaul let you and other members work in her lab to do research. Of course he was there too, and chance had it that you were paired up with Coriolanus, sharing the same desk in the library section.

You could see him sitting opposite to you, his side was impressively tidy, just a black leather notepad and a book. Your half was full of microbiology volumes, agar plates and creased post-it. Coriolanus was too focused on his writing that he never gazed over you, on the other hand you were distracted by his presence. You remembered him differently in the Academy, his hair was slightly longer than before, his facial features were more defined, but the same cold aura surrounded him.

You felt kinda intimidated by him.

You’ve heard colleagues saying how brilliant he was: he won the Plinth prize in his senior year, he graduated with honors at advanced military strategies and he now had a high position as the right hand man of the pretentious Head Gamemaker.

He intrigued you.

You thought you were not the smartest person in the room. There was something in him, probably his confident behaviour while he was writing on his notebook, as if he was superior to you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, you thought of ways to start a conversation, not a small talk, but something smart to impress him.

Your heart was beating fast and you finally figured what to say, “Mr. Snow I found a better technique for–“

“What makes you think you can talk to me?” He cut you off while still writing in his notebook.

His words stunned you. The conversation you imagined in your head was now gone, what could you say at this point? “I just wanted–” you stuttered

“Don’t bother, I don’t want to know.”

Your admiration for him slowly faded each day. The way he corrected you every time you had a proposal, pointing out your mistakes in front of everyone, or when he made you work till night in the laboratory to perfectionate your research. You tolerated that, you were used to hard work and mean teachers in your university years, but sometimes he didn’t even show the slightest remorse on things he would say about the districts. About you, indirectly.

Every year on reaping day you thought that it could have been you. Your name in that little piece of paper, read out loud changing your destiny. If it wasn’t for your father’s role in the Dark Days, you could have been in that arena yourself, instead of having the privilege to control tributes’ lives in a cozy chair.

Your dad was an engineer, more a genius mastermind who designed and built high tech weapons. Specifically incendiary bombs, which were crucial to stop the rebels from invading the Capitol during the last year of the war. The project was so successful that he obtained an honorary medal from President Ravenstill himself. He was able to buy a place in the Capitol, for the only purpose to give you and your sister a better future, and you actually lived in luxury compared to your old life back in the districts. However, your father did not side with the president’s political view, still he had to conform to it or he would probably be considered a rebel.

He played the game, to stay alive. Until he was not part of that show anymore.

“I only did it for you and Darla, I don’t care about heavens or hell. As long as my family is safe, I regret nothing of the atrocities I’ve done,” were the words your father wrote to you in a letter, before being killed.

They had never been clear about the dynamics of his homicide, but you were sure it was not an incident as someone would say. The Capitol killed him, they took your dad away from you, the only person you admired, that never let you down.

Your blood was from the districts, even if you’ve lived all your life in the Capitol, you couldn’t change your origins. Coriolanus reminded you of that, with his despicable comments about how ‘horrible and disgusting’ the people from the districts were. As if you didn’t exist to him, you were not a person from his perspective. But he did not know that, no one knew you were not from the Capitol, it was only written on your official documents.

“The games are meant to remind us all who we truly are,” was something Coriolanus often said, bullshit you thought, for you the Games were an insult to humanity and civilisation, cruel entertainment for empty people.

Coriolanus Snow, such a brilliant mind but wicked thoughts.

At the same time, you were not better than him. You worked for the Head Gamemaker and indirectly supported the unnatural destiny of those children. It was easier blaming the government, the bad guys, than admitting to be part of the corrupted system you truly despised. Your excuse was that you had no choice, and partially it was true, but can money win over your beliefs? Were you so desperate to bend your morality just not to be jobless and not respectable? You were acting as your father: were you a fighter or survivor?

Little did you know that your worst nightmares were going to haunt you soon. After the incident you were unemployed, with a bad reputation and with a man you hated.

Check, check, check.

You woke up at lunch time for the third day in a row, it was like being a child again. But there wasn’t your mom taking care of you, your dad making your favorite dish or your big sister spoiling you with presents. You couldn’t ignore your responsibilities and let the adults do the big things for you. You were the adult now, but if you kept self destroying your life this way, it was like everything you’ve done vanished away. Giving up was not an option, or to put things clear, it was the easier possibility amongst the other challenging beginnings.

One of these included him.

Coriolanus was not a beginning, he was more like someone you bump into when you are in a rush, someone who wasn’t supposed to be there but that let you miss the train, made you change your destination. However, the end of the journey was a mystery, with him nothing was clear from the start.

The gala was proof that you couldn’t handle that world, it felt like everything you did made your situation in a much worse position. If it wasn’t for Coriolanus, you would’ve busted into tears on live tv, he was used to that world, lying so naturally that he convinced them.

Cameras, flashes, interviews. Not exactly what you have been preparing for all your life.

You didn’t want to remember what happened that night. Your mind replayed memories as if it was a film, but you were trying to stop it. The dancing? The photographers?

No, the kiss.

The thought of his hands on your skin, his hair on your hands, his lips against yours. The more you pushed that image away, the less it faded from your mind. How could you let him do something like that? You knew that letting him in again would only bring more chaos into your life, but at the same time, you needed to fix your mess and he was your solution.

Also, you didn��t want to acknowledge that all the attention was something you needed. Not the bad press, the misleading articles and intrusive photographers. It was the care for you, the way he defended you, the warmth you didn’t feel in a long time. You knew it was fake, just a facade, but that pretending was healing an empty spot you have been hiding for ages.

When you checked your mail, you recognised the reddish envelope. It was from Snow manor.

"Be ready at 7 pm, someone is going to pick you up.’ signed by Iris Davebonn.

Of course it was not over.

He had a plan, and he didn’t give up easily. You also had a plan, he was not the only one with something to prove, but was he the only way out to your hell? Or was he another villain in your tragedy? You had nothing to lose but everything to gain.

Coriolanus is the forbidden apple, the fruit I shall never be tempted to desire.

You opened the fridge, still sleepy but hungry. For your breakfast you had a couple of options: water and rotten eggs or rotten eggs and water. So as always you decided to steal from your neighbor’s tangerines tree, you could easily pick the fruits from your window, the advantages of living on the first floor. You knew that the old lady next door noticed your thefts, but she hated you either way so at least you gave her a reason to. Since you didn’t have a monthly paycheck anymore, you had to live with your remaining savings, but soon you were left with nothing with bills and rent to pay.

Actually, Dr. Gaul never fired you, she wasn’t as upset as Capitol people, she even congratulated you because this way The Hunger Games were discussed more on tv and newspapers. For her, the incident was a perfect strategy to make the Games popular. She even thought you did that intentionally, because in her distorted view,”it was funny seeing their faces when for the first time, a 12 years old boy from district eleven won”. Against all odds, the unknown tribute without sponsors and hope to make it alive, won the games because “I killed everybody else.”

Not as funny as she thought.

Eventually, you couldn't handle the pressure anymore and you quit. The last time you saw her she persuaded you to be by her side the next year, “if you did that by accident, I wonder what you could do purposely.” You never considered that offer, you didn’t have to work there in the first place. If only you could go back, maybe… Maybe, everything would’ve gone differently.

The world fell apart when you heard the sound of cannon in that room. Everybody was cheering for that girl from district two, the favorite, the one that won Capitol’s heart during the interviews. The lovely Rea, the brave tribute that was bit by an horrific dog. That creature cannot be defined as a ‘dog’, more like a venomous lion with a crocodile mouth. Your role was to make a medicine that could heal her wound. Sponsors asked it, her mentor was willing to pay whatever price to save her, the Capitol was betting every penny on her.

The pressure was such that you mistakenly switched two drugs and gave her the other for the boy from District three. Fatal mistake.

You were their only hope but you became the death of them.

Relying on somebody else was the last thing you wanted, especially if it was Coriolanus Snow. You didn’t want to need him. But there you go, on your way to his house. Again.

An avox opened the door for you and silently you followed her to the living room. Iris and Coriolanus were both standing near a star shaped glass table surrounded by small couches, you wondered what their conversation was about because they stopped talking the moment you walked in.

“Speaking of the devil,” Coriolanus said looking at you, he was wearing a white shirt and black pants, his hair was messy as if he woke up a couple of minutes ago.

”There she is,” Iris stepped towards you, opening her arms, “the new star of Panem,” she hugged you like you were an old friend she hadn’t seen in a while, it didn’t feel as awkward as you thought, it felt sincere.

”I think you meant a fallen star,” you laughed hugging her back.

”Honey, the gala was a success!” She said with a warm smile.

You perceived his blue eyes gazing at you, the same look he gave you when you were walking with him arm by arm at the gala.

Why is he staring? Am I wearing something inappropriate? Or is it just the indecipherable look he always has?

“Did you read the newspaper?” Iris pointed at the glass table in front of you but you were distracted by a bowl full of pastries to even pay attention to her.

You leaned forward to read the page but your sight was too blurry. The tangerines were the only thing you ate since this morning, not really an energetic meal. You sat on the small couch and you put the newspaper close to your face, nose almost touching the page, squinting to have a better view.

“Are you blind?” Coriolanus said with an annoyed tone, he tore away the paper from your hands.

”I don’t have my glasses with me,” you lied, you have never worn glasses in your entire life.

You rubbed your temples trying to see clearly again and you swiftly took what seemed to be a pink cookie from the tray on the table. What flavour was that? You tried to make a straight face while chewing that sugary stuff, at least your body was eating something.

“To make things short— they think we are the couple of the moment,” Coriolanus started while reading the page, “that everybody was shocked— bla bla,” he rapidly said, “oh and they mentioned my name four times!”

“No, Mr. Snow, if you have to do something you have to do it right,” Iris intervened, taking the newspaper from his hands.

She sat down on the couch near yours and started reciting the article, reading word by word.

“Is love in the air? In Capitol City probably is.” She read the first line,“what a great title isn’t it?” Iris commented

“Go on or we are going to stay here all night,” Coriolanus said.

You looked at him, he was standing up making you feel inferior, like a shadow looming over you.

“After the unsettling events happened in the last Hunger Games, there is finally some hope in our community. The aspiring president Coriolanus Snow showed up with someone not-so-new in the latest gala before the presidential campaign.”

“ ‘not so new’ so kind of them—” you said and he shushed you. How dare he?

“She studied medicine and has worked with the Head Gamemaker for the past year. Rumor has it that for some kind of incident, she was the cause of the premature death of two tributes.”

Iris took a breath. “Unexpectedly, last night Coriolanus proudly walked with her for the very first time in public. Both dressed in white, representing the noble Snow name, they conquered the attention of the media and the crowd. Are they the couple of the moment?” She smiled while looking at you, “the best part is about to come.”

“If we are basing the answers on the way they look at each other, they definitely stole our hearts. We are looking forward to seeing how this unexpected love will grow.”

You laughed, that was too corny for you, was it possible that they truly believed that little show you made?

”Will Coriolanus Snow win the election the same way he won her heart? Right now we are in love with both of them.” Iris finished.

“Did they really write an article about our possible love story?” You took another cookie, green this time, “they really are bored people.”

”You should be happy they didn’t talk about what happened in the arena,” Coriolanus said but you couldn’t see him, he was standing behind you.

“Well, they mentioned it anyway,” you said while chewing that lemon pastry, or was it mint? For a moment you thought it was better starving than eating whatever thing it was.

”Thanks to me they probably will give you a chance,” he said.

”The tone they used– it was like they think you are doing charity by being with me.”

“Well it kinda is–”

”Oh shut up,” you stand up, turning to him, “your name has never been this many times in a newspaper.” You were close to him, and even if you were not sitting anymore, you felt small standing there facing him.

His eyes were still examining you, as if you were a book written in a language he couldn’t read.

“You two look like siblings fighting over meaningless things,” Iris said, stepping in, getting in the middle of you.

“See? Even Iris thinks you are being overly dramatic.”

You fought the urge to answer back, did he just call you over-dramatic?

“Honey, look who's talking,” Iris said pointing a finger at him, “you are not really easy to work with,” then she turned over to you, “in just one day people fell for your fairytale, imagine what you can do in a month.”

“Do you really think this can work?” You avoided looking at him behind her shoulder.

“They don’t care about what you did, you are just another distraction from their empty life,” she explained to you, “they need something else to talk about.”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, there are more important things,” Coriolanus said, “such as the presidential elections.”

”Is there something else you can say instead of politics and fame?”

”What do you want me to tell you? My sad story about when I mixed some drugs in the laboratory?” He stepped closer, ”oh no, that is something you always talk about.”

”I liked you better when you ignored me,” you said remembering the first time you tried to have a conversation with him.

“Stop please,” Iris said, “you two should bond more, this atmosphere is making me wanna retire early,” she touched her hair, orange this time, “maybe you will like each other.” She walked away from your sight.

“It's going to be tiring enough pretending to like him in public,” now there was just the glass table separating you from him.

“So this is a yes, you are going to do this,” his face lightened up.

“It seems this charade it’s working,” you said convincing yourself that was your best chance of getting your reputation back.

Did you just sign a pact with the devil?

He is the forbidden apple. But it doesn’t mean I can’t just play with it.

“Before I forget,” you heard Iris voice coming from the door entrance, “next week dinner with the Holdens and Suncots,” she was putting her yellow coat on, “they gladly accepted the invite here,” then she put her gloves on, “see you tomorrow—oh and try to bond you two,” she pointed a finger at him before closing the door and leaving you alone with Coriolanus.

You looked at the clock above the coat hanger and it was getting late, but you had nowhere else to be at that moment. No one waiting for you at home, no one expecting your call, nothing to do the next day.

“Tigris is going to design another dress for you,” he said referring to the dinner.

“Can’t I just wear something I already have?” The thought of him deciding what color and style your dress had was not something you tolerated.

“Of course not— do you dine here or?” That didn’t sound like an invite, more as if he was suggesting you go home.

“So kind, I’ll pass,” you said with a sarcastic tone.

”I asked because you almost devoured the entire jar of pastries.” He smiled, waiting for your reaction.

”For the record, they are tasteless.”

He rolled his eyes, “the car is waiting for you outside,” he turned his back and walked towards the kitchen.

”I can walk, I don’t need your personal driver,”

Your words stopped him right in his tracks, ”what if you get lost? How could I do without you?” He said jokingly, turning over to see you, “and it’s fifteen minutes away, in the dark— don’t be a child and go by car, you’ll get used to it.”

You didn’t answer, not like you had something to say. Of course you would’ve accepted the ride, your apartment was too far from his house, you just wanted to irritate him. Maybe you were not so different from Coriolanus, you were playing the same game.

Car rides make you recall only good memories. Your dad got a car when you were little, it was gray and smaller than this one, and he used to drive you to school everyday. Until you got into university and you moved to your current house, it was ten minutes from university so you got used to walking.

The engine stopped and you stepped out of the car, it was cold outside and you wished you had heating at home, a luxury you couldn’t afford anymore.

You fumbled with the keys trying to open the door, you were freezing and you rushed because you heard some steps. You didn’t want to have a conversation with your neighbor, she’ll probably just scold you about the stolen tangerines and how loud you shut the door when you go out, the old same story. You finally walked inside but someone blocked you from closing the door. It was a young man, probably in his thirties, he had a tiny recorder on his hand and you immediately clicked.

“Hi, I’m from Capitol’s People Magazine, I wanted to ask you some questions about your relationship with Coriolanus Snow,” he said pointing you to the black device.

”I’m sorry— for interviews, talk to my manager,” you said with a kind tone.

Iris suggested that every time journalists asked you questions you did not want to answer, you had to say those words, and now was the case. You slowly closed the door but the man put his feet in between.

”How could the heir of one of the most influential figures be with a corrupted woman like you?” He looked at you with eyes full of anger.

Corrupted woman, this was new to you. What was the correct answer to that?

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” you smiled while trying to close the door by pushing it against his feet but he was not intending to leave you alone.

He aggressively tried to wedge his foot into the door, forcing it to stay open while he continued to badger you with invasive questions about the gala.

”Are you planning on ruining his image while stealing his money?” He reached your arm and grabbed it.

“What’s wrong with you?” His grip was getting tighter as you tried shoving him.

He was strong enough to smash the door open, stepping inside your house. With his hand on your wrist, he roughly pushed your body against the wall, your back facing him as he stood behind you, your heart pounding outside your chest.

“You are just a crazy bitch,” he whispered, “you think you can fool them but are a disgrace for Panem,” he pushed your head against the wall, one side of your face hitting the coarse plaster making your skin burn.

“Get off me! ” you shouted, struggling against his grip.

In response he hit your head again against the wall. You squinted your eyes in pain as a tear streamed down your face, you felt powerless, everything happened so fast.

“Tell me what you want from me,” you said with a weak voice.

“After all you did, you should shut the fuck up and do what you are asked to do,” he put his hand on your scalp as he pushed you harder against the wall.

You screamed like you never did in your entire life, someone had to hear your cry for help, right? But he was quick to cover your mouth with his palm and that was the perfect occasion for you to bite his skin. He kept his hand on your mouth while he choked on his own screams.

Your muffled howl echoed in the room but no one seemed to hear you. Or so you thought. Someone grabbed the man from his collar and pushed him away from you. It was the driver, his tall figure was now beant down to beat that man. You were paralyzed, now your back was against the wall and your lungs finally breathing, but your body was unable to answer your brain’s orders.

”Run!” The driver screamed at you while punching the man one more time, “go in the car! Run!”

You ran towards the car but your legs felt weak and your head too heavy. You opened the car door and you laid down in the back seats. What the hell just happened?

What if he came back? What if next time there is not someone to save you? Your anxiety grew inside your chest and you kept yourself from crying.

“Are you okay, Miss?” The driver asked breathlessly as he violently closed the front car door with a rush, “should I take you to the hospital?” He was looking at you, he had an old scar on his cheek that you didn’t notice before.

You shook your head, “I just need water” you mouthed, trying to maintain a regular breathing.

“Thank you for saving me,” you whispered.

You looked at him through the rearview mirror, his eyes reflecting the street lights while he was driving as if nothing happened, as if his bloody knuckles on the steering wheel were not hurting.

After minutes that seemed hours he talked, “It is my duty,” he said, “Mr. Snow wouldn’t have forgiven me.”

Coriolanus was in his study preparing a speech for the next interview, he had to be careful to pick the perfect words, to speak with the right tone, and to make the adequate facial expressions. Nothing was left to case. Every single action had to be meticulously studied and calculated.

It was his specialty. Playing with words and making people fall in love with his charm. He did it naturally, molding people the shape he wanted. Because he had to have everything under his control, his power, his eyes.

For the first time he was struggling. He was stuck on the opening line and he didn’t know how to continue. Sleepless nights and alcohol were the usual in the past week. This was one of the nights. Locked in his study until he wrote something of that speech, depriving himself from sleep.

Coriolanus was walking around the room, fidgeting with a pen on his long fingers. Until his mind-wandering was stopped by a firm knock on the door, annoyed it could be an Avox, he ignored it. But the knocking didn’t stop.

He let out a sigh as he unlocked the doorknob, “how many times do I have to tell–” to his surprise, the driver showed up at his door, “Virma, what are you doing here?”

Coriolanus soon found the answer to his question by looking over the driver’ shoulder. You were hidden behind his back, like a hurt animal scared of its fate. You didn’t want to come here, like a lost child brought back home. But where were you supposed to be? What place instead of his?

Your ruffled hair, your smeared makeup and your empty look. It didn’t take long for him to understand something happened. A sense of anger grew inside of him. This was not written in a script, it was not meant to happen and when things did not go according to plan, Coriolanus lost his composure, he could have been unpredictable.

His face darkened. He grabbed your arm and he dragged you in his study, along with Virma. You felt his hand on your wrist, his touch was something familiar to you, maybe gentle, as if he was actually worried about you. He pushed Virma to the side and closed the door behind him, casting you both in the dim light of his opulent study.

You were now facing him, his expression was different from an hour ago. His hand traveled to your face, his fingers lifting your chin as he leaned to have a better view of you. The left side of your face was scraped, fresh cuts burned on your temple as droplets of blood trailed your skin. Coriolanus traced his fingertips on your bruised skin and you flinched, instantly regretting the movement as a flash of pain shot through your head, but he was not rough like that man. He loosened his grip on your arm, his eyes softening as he took in the sight of your injuries. He was delicate, as if he was touching something fragile.

You were too focused on his expression to even pay attention to your sore skin. His knitted brows, his parted lips and his concerned look.

“Who did this to you?” His voice barely above a whisper, he glared down at you as he inspected your figure, as if he was looking for other scratches he missed.

You could almost feel the tension radiating from him.

His hand was now on your neck, fingers touching the back of your head, “a journalist, I don’t–” you looked down, “he was asking questions but I–"

“Mr. Snow, I think I know who he is ,” the driver said and for a moment you forgot he was in that room, “he is Lucius Cliffhard' son.”

"Cliffhard' son? The father is running for president why would he–” Coriolanus didn’t finish his sentence and he looked back at you, “thank you for your service Virma,” his hand left your neck leaving a warm spot, “we will talk about it later.”

You heard the door closing and now you were left alone with him. You could barely stand up, your adrenaline was leaving your body and your anxiety was taking its place.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” he walked towards the opposite side of the room, looking for something in the small bathroom of his study.

You were standing in the shiny black floor, your heart was pounding so loud you could not hear your weak voice, “he probably was waiting for me to come home because the moment I opened the door he uhm—“ you stuttered, "started asking questions but I didn't answer, so he pushed me against the wall and his hand was on my mouth—“ you paused, ”he hit my head and—“ you felt a lump on your throat and you hoped he didn’t hear you.

His steps were again echoing the room, his figure walking closer to you. He had a piece of cotton wool in his hands and without a notice he held it against your scratches by cupping your face with his other hand. It was burning your skin, his fingertips were slightly brushing your neck while he dabbed gently the cotton to clean the wounds on your temple.

”Continue talking,” he said nonchalantly as he tilted your head to have a better view of tour left side of the face.

You stopped breathing in that moment, maybe because of the nauseating smell of the disinfectant or maybe it was because he was inches away from you, his focused look on the bleeding cut, “I think he just wanted to scare me,” you managed to say in a steady tone.

The blonde snapped his head at you, his blue eyes now on yours, “he is a psychopath,” his scent reminded you of that night at the gala, “he hit you because you didn't want to be interviewed, he could've killed you."

You reached his hand where he was pressing the cotton wool and for a moment your fingers brushed before he removed his hands from your skin. “you are exaggerating– he just needs help, ” you said.

Coriolanus closed his eyes, he clenched his fists and the knuckles turned white. He walked towards the desk and he poured himself a drink, taking a long burning sip. You watched him in silence as you inspected the reddish cotton on your hands.

“Do you trust him so much you want to come back to your house?” He was behind his desk, arms resting above the chair, “I told you, here you could have been safer from the media,” he raised his voice, “but you are stubborn, you risked your life and– if it wasn’t for Virma who knows what could have happened,” he said nervously while pouring himself a drink.

“So now it’s my fault?” You bawled at him.

“You don’t understand that now whatever happens to you affects me,” he said, “what are they going to say when they see your bruises and god forbid— he writes an article saying who knows what lies of what happened.”

“See? You don’t care about my safety, you only care about what they think,” you stepped closer to him because he wasn’t even looking at you, “you want me as your puppet, so you can have me under your control— your house, your peacekeepers, your scripts— it’s all part of your plan,” you said.

”You are free to go back to your pathetic life if that’s what you want," he took a sip of his drink, still looking down, “I can’t save you from yourself, after all– you were miserable before and now too,” it was like venom coming from his lips.

A tear streamed down your face, “this is what I hate about you,” you scoffed, “you are a selfish and heartless man, I was right from the start.”

You have called him only good names: uncaring, unaffectionate, disrespectful, selfish and heartless. The list was getting longer.

“What did you expect? I thought it was going to be easier with you but you are getting on my nerves,” he stood up walking towards you, “you should be grateful— but no, you like acting so superior to me,” his chest was getting closer to you.

You scoffed, “why? Who are you?” You looked up at him through your lashes, “just a rich spoiled kid who is playing at being the next president of Panem.”

“And you fucking need me,” he said against your cheek, “this is why you didn’t leave, you don’t want to admit that without this ‘heartless man’ standing in front of you who knows where you could be right now,” his eyes were consuming you.

”Look who's talking,” you pointed a finger at him, “the Capitol's favorite toy who needs a ‘miserable girl’ to make him popular.”

Coriolanus placed his free hand on your wrist, squeezing it lightly, “you like this am I right?” He licked his lips, “talking back at me, uh?”

His nose was touching yours, his grip was burning your skin and you could feel his hot breath mixing with yours. The blonde was dangerously close to you, but you missed that feeling. Have you already erased what he has said to you? Was he so powerful to make you fall for his spell?

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

His lips brushed yours, memories flooding back to you. You didn’t know if he was about to bite you or kiss you. It would have hurt you either way.

“Tell an Avox to prepare your room,” he said, “or freeze in the streets, I don’t care— your choice.” Coriolanus let your arm go and he walked away from your sight.

It started to be just for show but the backstage was even worse than the real life. At the same time you could not give up on this play, you had to change your rules, your morals, to keep being with him.

So you were alone in the dark in the hallway, thinking about running away or staying.

Coriolanus could not win this way, you hated to admit you still needed his presence to fix your reputation. The darkness seemed to swallow you as you hesitated, torn between your principles and the pull of his influence. He had too much power right now, but you were willing to wait, by making things your own terms.

As you stood there, unwilling to give in to his manipulations, the lingering memory of his touch warred with the sharpness of his words. You slammed the door shut for him to hear you, he would have to do better to get you away from him.

Coriolanus could have touched your face as if you were the rarest creature on earth but the same lips once brushed yours, could tell the most hurtful things to you.

But you did that too. You were both craving the same sin. But too proud to admit on your faces.

“Is everything okay now?” You were in Tigris room, a colorful space barely illuminated by the outside light. It was in the basement, not really a cozy place to work.

You were talking about the aggression that happened a couple of days ago, nothing you wanted to recall actually, especially your conversation with Coriolanus, but you didn’t tell her that.

”Yes, the bruises are healing over,” you answered, touching your temple.

Tigris smiled at you while taking your measurements. She didn’t look like her cousin, apart from the blonde hair, she was pure and kind hearted. Why was an angel like her on earth with people like you? Like him?

“Why are we doing this again?” You asked “Didn’t you already have my measurements?”

You were standing on a stool, only wearing your undergarments while Tigris was putting the tape measure around your chest.

”Coryo sent me a note telling me that last time the dress was a little loose,” that was the last thing you could ever expect to hear from her, because it was in fact true, he noticed that.

“He did what?”

“I know, I was surprised too,” she smiled, “anyway, I read the newspaper.”

Oh no, you didn’t want to talk about that too.

“You two look great in the picture,” she handed you a wrinkled page where you could see a black and white photo of you and Coriolanus at the gala, he was looking at you while holding your waist.

You didn’t know about the existence of that picture until now. That night you were too starved to even pay attention to the newspaper, how could you miss that?

“It was so strange seeing him with a woman,” she commented while looking for some fabric.

“What do you mean? Has he ever had a girlfriend?” You knew the answer to that question but you wanted to hear from her.

“More like ‘girls’ than ‘girlfriends’, ” she laughed, “I’ve never met one of them,” Tigris wrapped a red cloth around your waist.

“Well, not that I’m special,” you looked at the mirror in front of you, “it’s just a stupid show.”

“What a shame,” she folded the excess fabric on your side and put a needle, “I liked you,” Tigris whispered.

You wished you could do something for her, she deserved more than a molded little room and a cousin like Coriolanus.

“So we are seeing each other more often, am I right?” she broke the awkward silence.

“Yes, Iris forced me to stay in this house,” Iris was really in apprehension when she saw your bruises, she lectured you on how people are vicious and in your ‘situation’ it was better not risking more.

“How lucky, aren’t I?” You added.

“I know my cousin can be– difficult to understand but,” she walked behind you, “there are some things that brought him to be this way,” her fingers tighten the fabric on your back, “and of course he’s not a saint, he just needs something– someone perhaps, to make him remember who he really is.”

“I can’t fix him,” you glanced at her reflection in the mirror, “I’m broken as much as he is and– we are incompatible.”

“As the sun and the moon?”

“Maybe.”

The comparison did fit well.

One is the star planets gravitate around, the only source of light at the center of the solar system. The moon is a small satellite whose only purpose is to spin around the earth, showing only one face and depending only on the planet's gravitational field.

Coriolanus wanted to appear like the sun, bright and powerful but he only displayed one face like the moon. You felt small, needing for something to orbit around as the moon did, but you didn’t know how radiant and capable you actually were, exactly like the sun.

Since you moved in his house, nights were longer than the others. It was getting harder to fall asleep because of your intrusive thoughts keeping you awake.

Is the door locked? Am I safe here?

The positive side was that your new room was probably bigger than your whole apartment. Then, you were not freezing anymore and you were finally eating food, not stolen fruit and smelly milk.

Even though you were living in his house, you tried avoiding his presence: by not having lunch the same hour as him, by going out your room only when you heard his door locking or having your usual meetings with Iris before him. That was your way of saying that he could not control your life, especially when he treated you the way he did.

However, that was still his house.

Red silky bed sheets, roses scent, his gold engraved initials on objects.

Coriolanus was not easy to forget. It was as if he had poisoned the air you were breathing, everything reminding you of him. The good and the bad. You promised yourself to not be tempted anymore, he was mercilessly manipulating you into believing he was the person he wanted to appear at the Capitol. But other than his mesmerizing eyes, his golden curls and delicate hands, there was another man hiding in his shadow. You had to picture that side of him every time he teased you, or you could be a sinner.

You were laying on the bed, leafing through the pages of the brand new script it was sent to your room. This was even worse than the other. Not only you had to remember some political matters regarding the current campaign, but you had to pretend again how good of a man Coriolanus was. How he supported and cared for you and how bright your plans as a couple were.

“I was extremely lucky to meet him, he is the sun to my dark days,” what an irony, “I am looking forward to living this exquisite love fully by his side.”

So cheesy for what?

“You can’t avoid me forever.”

You heard a muffled voice coming from the hallway, you walked towards the door but you didn’t answer. It was him of course, after the bad there was the good. He surprisingly tried talking with you on other occasions, but you had walked away before he could even finish his sentence, running away was easier, or god knows what you could’ve done.

“I can hear your heavy breathing,” he said close to the door, “open the door or I will,” he was waiting for your response, thinking about what he could say to get your attention. “Please?” Good manners are always the right answer, right? Right?

You let out a sight as you unlocked the door. Coriolanus was standing close to the room’s entrance, his arm was leaning against the wooden jamb and you noticed he was wearing his coat, as if he was about to go out.

“Oh so you’re alive,” he said, “I was worried about you.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but it didn’t matter either way. Right?

“What do you want?” You were still holding the doorknob, not letting him step inside the room.

“Come with me, we have to go somewhere,” he said with a rush in his tone.

“I kindly refuse your invitation,” you were about to close the door but he put his hand in between. I could squash his fingers, you thought, nothing he could not recover from.

Coriolanus rolled his eyes, “sooner or later you will have to pretend to like me,” his face was partially illuminated by your room light, making his eyes brighter.

You looked at his long fingers keeping the door open, he had his usual shiny ring on his index finger and for a moment you thought you could really squash his hand, “I think it’s better we have less interactions possible apart from the social events.”

“It’s been days since people saw us together, yesterday they asked about you at the debate,” he hissed, “see? Instead of asking about my political project they were– nevermind, just come with me.” His eyes were begging you, such a satisfying image.

“I’m not dressed up, what a pity,” you said mockingly.

He peeked at your figure, “you’re fine.”

You did not feel fine. You weren’t even wearing your clothes, you did not had the chance to pack up your things from your apartment and you had to ask Tigris for some piece of clothing that could fit you. She gave you some of her designs, a green matcha wool skirt matched with a cotton white top. At least you were about to wear pretty clothings, not your old unironed shirts.

“Just for show,” you said while grabbing a jacket.

“Just for show,” he echoed.

You realised that in this game of power and appearances, keeping your distance wasn't an option anymore. You knew that you were now entwined in a dangerous dance with Coriolanus, one that could lead to momentous success or catastrophic ruin. The stakes were high and your mixed feelings towards him could not interfere with your plan, he was not the only manipulator anymore.

“Where is he bringing me?” you asked Virma after fifteen minutes of silence in the car. It was better not talking directly to Coriolanus when possible.

“Miss, isn’t this a date? Enjoy the ride,” the driver said with a smile.

You and Coriolanus laughed. Date? The only date you were looking for was the date this show would end. The car stopped and from the window you immediately recognised the place. It was not a fancy restaurant, a loud club or someone’s wealthy mansion.

First date with Coriolanus Snow at… the Citadel?

That was not what the script said.

You heard the car speeding away as he walked towards the huge grey entry, he unlocked the door and he stepped inside. You stood on the sidewalk, not sure if you wanted to follow him, it was too late to change your mind and too dark to be alone outside.

At least ten peacekeepers were guarding the entrance but Coriolanus walked towards the grey corridor unbothered. The first time you were there, you were searched as if you were a prisoner, as if you could hide a bomb inside your small pockets. This time they did not even consider you, because you both spent months working day and night in that cold laboratory.

The elevator plunged down at least twenty floors, the dark walls were so thick you could strain your vocal chords for hours but no one would hear you. You were standing beside him, waiting for the door to open as soon as possible. The only sound echoing in that place was the loud machinery that was slowly moving down.

“Did you miss this place so much you wanted a guided tour by me?” You asked, breaking the silence, “or is it a surprise party for me?” Five floors left, “tell me now so I put my best smile for the cameras,�� you said mockingly, but he didn’t even look at you.

Couldn’t this man laugh for once? So boring.

The elevator doors parted and you finally stepped inside the laboratory. It was an open space divided into three areas. The center was where Dr. Gaul did experiments with animals, occasionally it was also where she did her lectures and exams; one side was the sterile area where the researchers did surgical operations and medical trials where they often experimented with new drugs on genetically modified animals; on the other side, there was the library and research tables, where you mostly spent most of your time studying advanced biotechnology methods.

“How romantic– I guess what people are going to say when I tell them for our first date you took me to see these sweet and lovely creatures,” you said as you looked at the wall glass with dead beasts inside clear yellowish cases.

“You should keep the bar low with me— and I just need to find some documents, you know this laboratory better than me,” he removed his coat and stepped towards the library on the other side of the room.

“You tricked me– you just wanted a favor from me,” your voice echoed and you were not sure he heard you. You walked through the library looking for him.

“I’m in the archives section,” his voice was not far away.

The library was arranged in a circular pattern, as if the bookshelves were layers and in the very core there was a large space with study desks, the ones you had slept on many nights back when you worked there. Soon you found the blonde leaning over a desk while reading some pages in an orange envelope.

“Did you find it?” You asked in an annoyed tone.

“Here there is– this is your file,” he said while standing up.

“My what now?” You walked over him, intended to grab the envelope with the 'confidential' print on the cover.

Coriolanus stepped back, leaning his back on the bookshelf behind him, “given your precedents, I thought it was better to check your past before they did,” he had already read your file a long time ago, but he didn’t tell you that.

He started reading the first page, “you uhm graduated with honors in medicine– bla bla bla first student in your class, —okay here, you specialized in general surg— oh no you did not” he paused, “yet?” Coriolanus looked at you with a puzzled face, suggesting you to say something.

“I will this year,” you looked at your fingers, fidgeting with the ends of your jacket.

“Lie number one, here it says you didn’t pay the tuition,” he pointed at the paper.

Fuck. You couldn’t afford paying for electricity, imagine the university fees, in the most expensive city in Panem. You stuttered something but he continued talking.

“Anyway, you got a place in the Ranvistill Clinic —impressive— and then you mysteriously asked for a transfer after two years, and this is how you got here,” he looked at you, “what happened?”

Was that a tricky question? This conversation was making you uncomfortable. You felt under trial, as if you were accused of crimes, Coriolanus was the judge and you were the only one defending yourself.

“Is this an interview? I didn’t know that apart from being interested in writing scripts you also were a human resource guy,” you tried switching the topic, the conversation was getting too personal.

“Do you have something to hide? I must be prepared for anything they can ask me,” he frowned.

You had many secrets you hoped he didn’t already know, “I changed jobs, that’s it.”

“You failed my test,” he chuckled, “you lied straight to my face in a serious matter –this is lie number two.”

“A test? What the hell Coriolanus.” You sighed as you walked over a desk, sitting on it.

“See? This is why you don’t have my trust.”

The man that cannot be trusted was really talking about trust?

“If you already know every detail of my life, why are you talking with me?”

“Oh, I knew it was going to bother you —anyway no, there’s just something that does not add up.” His eyes went again on that file, hands leafing through pages.

“Which is,” you said with a passive tone.

“Clodius South, head of the surgery department —or I should say, your umh— ex boyfriend?” He closed the folder and put it carelessly on the shelf behind him.

Your heart skipped a bit, “I’m done,” you stood up but he came closer to you.

“Answer just one question, I'm curious– why did he fire you? I mean, officially you transferred but I know it wasn’t voluntary,” he didn’t seem to give up, his look was pleading for answers, “so strange, you had been together for a year.”

“Why are you so interested in my sentimental life? You don’t have a chance with me, you know that right?” You laugh, feeling the tension in the air.

“There is no such risk, I’m not attracted to you,” his figure blocked you from walking away, “I just need your popularity, so I can fix it to something good.”

“You were the one kissing me in the car,” you bit your tongue, that kiss was something you didn’t want to bring up, it was better to forget about it. However, the other option was talking about your past, not something you were proud of.

“Oh please as if you didn’t want to,” he tilted his head, eyes locked on yours.

You laughed at his words, “you wish,” your back leaned against the desk.

“Then why did you kiss me back? I remember you didn’t let me breathe for a moment.”

“That was part of the show, Coriolanus Snow.”

“Now you use my full name? Last time I checked you called me differently,” he rested his arm on the desk you were lying on, making his height the same as yours.

You damned the only time it slipped from your lips calling him Coryo, a nickname you promised yourself to not say ever again.

“Why? Did it turn you on?”

His other hand was near your leg, slowly moving closer to your exposed skin.

“You can’t even imagine,” he swiftly looked down to your lips then back to your eyes.

The room did not feel cold anymore. Your breathing was getting slower, his parted lips warming your skin, his arm grazing your leg.

“So tell me, what happened with him?” Coriolanus insisted, but you had other plans in mind.

He was in power right now, he brought you here just to humiliate you with your deepest secrets. Weren't you just a miserable girl? It was your turn to make him feel miserable.

“You say you’re not attracted to me but you always find an excuse to touch me,” you whispered to his ear, his curls brushing your nose and his hand slightly brushing your leg.

This would have made him back off, telling you how stupid you are to think something like that, gaslighting you about the fact he never did such things like touching you.

“If it bothers you so much why you never push me away,” his hand traveled up to your leg, “go on, I’m waiting,” his fingers were now brushing your thigh and you felt his cold ring against your skin.

Fuck. That was not your plan.

You can always get back to it.

“I know your limits— I bet you barely touched a woman in your life,” you knew it was not true, you only said it as a provocation, to hurt his fragile ego as you planned.

I won.

”I don’t have limits, and we both know you would lose your bet,” his hand went under the hem of your skirt, making you shiver in surprise.

His index finger traced the outline of your panties, slightly playing with the waistband. Coriolanus didn’t break eye contact with you, his pupils were wide, you couldn’t see the blue that usually painted his iris, he was breathing slowly with parted lips, as if he wanted to control his heartbeat. And his hand felt so warm and familiar, so close to your core.

You knew that look, the one that he gave you when he let his guard down. The same look Coriolanus had when you came in his study a couple of days ago, his other side that he rarely showed to anyone.

His palm rested on your bare naked thigh.

“You don’t talk now?” His voice soothed your face, “tell me to stop and I will.”

That was the perfect occasion to slap that smug from his face, but you couldn’t even make up a coherent sentence. His voice was a gentle whisper cutting through the tension, but all you could manage was to stare at his eyes, trying to calculate his next move.

You knew what it was. It was a dangerous game you were playing, one that could shatter your plan. Did you have something to lose? You have already bent your morals, risked your life and crossed lines you never thought you would. Coriolanus would have been another crime to add to your list.

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

But what if I took just a bite? A taste of mortal sin.

“Why did you bring me here?” You managed to say trying to control your breathing.

“You once asked me why did I chose you,” Coriolanus whispered to your ear, “and I told you that it was for the presidential campaign,” his hand moved up again, “publicity, press and interviews— I only care about that,” his fingers were covering your clothed cunt.

You took a deep breath and swallowed, your back was still leaning against the desk edge, his other arm on your side. His words were not making things easier for you, not because you were listening to what he actually was saying, but because his tone of voice was something you could only hear in these moments. When he acted good, for the cameras, for the show. But there was no one in that room.

Coriolanus kept talking, “but my point is, why didn't you leave?” His index finger circled around your covered core, “I mean— I could list a few reasons why, considering also how wet you are right now,” he pulled your panties to the side, exposing your wetness. “But you always say you hate me, that you despise me, why are you here then? Are you so desperate?”

Your eyes were closed, your mind wandered prohibited thoughts while his hand was painfully too far away from what your body needed. What could you say to him? That he was right about being so desperate to pretend to be with him, so you could clean your image? That despite his selfish behavior he was tempting you into falling in his game?

Coriolanus brushed your soaked entrance with his fingertips as he massaged your clit with your own wetness. You shamefully spread your legs giving him more access to your folds, his digits that once touched your face were gently rubbing your needy center.

Your silent whimpers were enough as an answer for him to slide one finger inside you.

Your hand was now on his biecep, grabbing his arm so tightly or you could fall. There was something in you that was holding you back from punching him to his face. Was this the charm everyone talked about? Was this the version of him everyone adored?

“Given that you prefer remaining silent— I can tell you why,” his hand moved inside you, “you like the attention,” your cheek was against his, while your other hand rested on the nape of his neck.

Your reaction to his movements made him close his eyes in bliss, but you were too focused on not making sounds that you didn’t notice his expression. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that he was making you feel good.

“I bet you’ve barely been touched by a man,” Coriolanus echoed.

It’s just one bite of the apple.

You looked at him this time, and you wished you did it before. The blue in his eyes, his plump lips, the glistening on his forehead covered by his falling blonde curls. An angel.

No, no, he is the devil, not an angel.

“Wrong,” you breathed and his pace fastened, “actually they were better than you,” you whispered and his eyes widened.

“Lie number three,” he slid another finger, “I can tell when you’re pretending and when you’re not,” he brushed your clit with his thumb.

Oh.

You bucked your hips to make some friction, Coriolanus was painfully slow as if he was taking all the time in the world. He leaned his head to your left temple, where small reddish bruises were fading away from your skin, and he planted feather kisses on it. Coriolanus slowly traced a trail of wet kisses alongside your face. His soft lips were healing your bruises, his hand was igniting your core.

His fingers moved faster, pumping in and out your hole and slightly curled to hit exactly your sweet spot. Your little moans echoed in the room along with the sloppy sound of his hand never leaving your cunt. Coriolanus stroked your bundle of nerves once more, his lips sucked a spot behind your hear, slowly moving down your neck, marking your delicate skin with his warm kisses.

That was it. You were sure your high was coming in a matter of seconds, your mouth curved as pleasure began flowing through your body.

“But wasn’t I an uncaring, disrespectful —and what was that—oh, selfish and heartless man?” His hand stopped moving, “well I guess you were right,” his fingers were slowly pulling out your unfulfilled hole.

What was he doing?

“Did you really think you could do whatever you wanted? Having meetings without me, eating locked in your room, ignoring me for days— I have the control here.” Coriolanus looked down at you with a satisfied expression, believing that he finally asserted his dominance over you.

Your mind raced for a response, but before you could gather yourself, his words hung heavy in the air.

That was his revenge.

You thought you could teach him a lesson but he was a step ahead of you. Coriolanus humiliated you, exactly as he planned. His intent was to make you feel ashamed of your past but you gave him a better opportunity: he made you feel needy for him.

Self sabotaging.

“They are here,” he said in a calm tone, as if you were not almost buckling in that very moment.

Five seconds ago you were close to your orgasm and now you were feeling the emptiness growing inside you. You looked around confused, adjusting your body so now you were standing up, your weak knees begging for rest.

Who?

“They?” You stuttered as you watched him stepping back.

“Yes, I called them before,” he smirked, ”put your best smile for the cameras.”

Coriolanus acted like he did not just had his fingers inside you, but his body was telling another story, his bulge was visible from his pants and you noticed that as he swiftly covered his erection with his hand.

He walked towards the elevator where two peacekeepers were waiting for him. You fixed your skirt, probably too ruined and sticky to ever wear it again.

Fuck him.

You followed him, making sure to walk properly or he would’ve noticed how flustered you were. The thick doors closed, it was you, two peacekeepers and the blonde. You were sure he could smell your arousal, you still had traces of his saliva on your neck and a little bruise on your skin. A new one.

Coriolanus took a handkerchief from his pocket and he carefully cleaned his hand from your wetness, like he was cleaning his hands after a crime. Yours. The cloth wrapped around his fingers, as your walls clenched around him moments ago.

Then he caught you staring at his hand, “are you okay? You look flushed.”

You sick bastard.

Your cheeks were painted in a crimson color, of course he could see that, he was the cause of that. The same cause that made you cream your panties and shake your legs. If it wasn’t for the peacekeepers, you would have probably strangled him. But that was his lucky day.

He won.

After an infinite amount of time where your mind couldn’t stop picturing the sloppy sound from before, the elevator’s door parted. Coriolanus grabbed your shoulder as he was directed toward the exit. The silence in that room was now replaced by loud voices coming from the outside.

“Who did you call?” You tried pulling away from his grip but he kept you close.

“I told you, they haven’t seen us in a while.”

He opened the entrance and you heard someone shouting, “they are here!” A group of unknown faces were pointing microphones towards you, asking questions you didn’t bother to listen to.

You walked through the crowd side by side to him, his arm around your waist as you covered your face from the blinding flashes. The car was waiting for you in the exact spot it left you, Coriolanus let you enter in the car first as he followed by closing the door, blocking the loudness outside.

You sat on the back seat, heart racing outside your chest, forcing yourself to completely ignore his presence.

Coriolanus was again back in your thoughts as your wetness slid down your legs.

He is the forbidden fruit.

I am tempted by thee.

A/N: finally it’s out!! It has been so hard writing this chapter, I had so many ideas that I couldn’t mold them together into a coherent text lol. Anyway, as always tell me if there are grammatical mistakes because another difficulty was my limited vocabulary (a special thanks to wordreference.com or I wouldn’t be here today.) Every day I’m trying my best to improve my English so have mercy on me! Let me know if you want to be tagged next time!! 💌

Thank you so much for all the love and support!! Your comments mean a lot to me ❤️❤️ I love you all

ask me questions here 💌

Tag list: @daenerysqueenofhearts @snowsgames @secretsicanthideanymore @serving-targaryen-realness @rareheartsclub @metalarmsandmanbuns @jzr201 @xoxohannahlee @blueberrymuffinmouse @icedcoffee-please @xybilipid-post-blog @phoward89 @katherine101 @gracieghost36955 @annavatar @ghostlyloversworld @coolcatyarb @xxrougefangxx @devils-blackrose @phoward89 @commanderfreethatdust @thepassionatereader @anjellaufeyson @xoxohannahlee

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #coryo x reader #the hunger games #coryo smut #lucy gray baird #coriolanus smut #billy the kid x reader #young coriolanus snow #politician coriolanus snow

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badaslovie · 1 year ago

Text

jealous kisses

pairing: bada x reader

summary: bada and tatter were seen holding hands at a concert and you can't help but feel jealous.

warnings: 🤏🏼 suggestive

wc: ~ 1.5k

a/n: sooo i've never written before and honestly it's not the best, please spare me. also absolutely no hate to tatter i love her 🫶🏼

your head found a place in Bada’s lap as you both lounge around on lusher’s couch; her fingers tracing their way up from your cheeks to play with strands of your hair. you lean into her touch, reveling in her affection. it’s rare these days –with all the filming– for you both to have a moment to breathe and just enjoy the day. bada took this opportunity to have a movie night with you and the rest of team bebe, as a sort of team bonding moment, and lusher was nice enough to offer her apartment as the meeting place.

“what time did you tell them to come?” you look up from your phone to face lusher, who’s sitting on the couch diagonal to you.

“minah texted in the group chat that they were heading up so they should be-” your attention turns to the door at the ring of the bell. “-here.”

you sit up straight –cuddling into bada’s side as she wraps an arm over your shoulder– to make room for the others as lusher makes her way to open the door for the rest. they each pile in taking off their shoes and coats, greeting you three with hi’s and hugs.

“i brought snacks! everyone’s favorites!” cheche waves around the snack-filled bags in her hand.

everyone settles into their respective spots on the couches and excitedly dig into their snacks while searching on their phones for movies that the team could agree on.

“oh my god unnie did you see the picture the fans took of us? at the concert last night.” tatter hands bada her phone, you peek over to see a picture of bada guiding tatter to their seats by her hand. you knew bada and tatter were just good friends, but that didn’t stop your stomach from churning.

“this is so funny people are theorizing that we could be in a relationship, but little do they know…” tatter giggles, hinting at the lack of awareness the public had of your relationship with bada. you two are private about your relationship, to keep your peace away from prying eyes and also because you are on competing crews for swf2. you’re starting to regret that decision.

the others also giggle at the predicament, each saying a variation of how the public would be surprised to know the truth, unaware of your tense body sitting quietly next to bada.

“hey, are you alright love? you seem tense.” bada asks, giving your shoulders a light squeeze.

“uh yeah. i’m just gonna use the bathroom really quick.” you pat her leg and stand up. your head was spinning with so many thoughts that you didn't notice the others quieting down as they watched you beeline down the hall.

you lock the door to the bathroom and turn to face the mirror above the sink. your reflection looked like a blur; your mind racing with the event that just occurred, to all the comments swf2 contestants would make and all the times they were being touchy with bada. but bada would always set boundaries, some distance when anyone would get closer than what she knows you’re comfortable with. and usually you didn’t mind her holding hands as a platonic gesture, you did with your crew and friends too, but the comments just ate at your insecurities. your relationship might not be public, but you weren’t sparing with your affections, so why weren’t comments made about you two?

you turn on the faucet and attempt to wash away the lingering worries. you unlock the door to head out after drying your face, only to be stopped in your tracks by the sight of bada with her arms crossed, leaning against the wall. her brows were furrowed and her gaze was on the floor before she realized that you had opened the door. her eyes full of concern soften as they meet yours.

“you got up so abruptly and looked pale. are you sure you’re okay?” she steps forward to examine you closer, her eyes searching your face for any sign of illness.

you nod your head. “yeah i’m fine, i just needed a moment.”

“if this is about the picture, you know tatter and i are just friends right? you’re the one i want, no one else.” she reaches up to tuck a loose hair behind your ear and slides her hand down to rest by the base of your neck.

“i know… i just needed a moment to pull myself together.” you sheepishly look away, avoiding her eyes.

"hmm i see..." she hums, stepping forward again and backing you into the wall as she places an arm above your head.

“is someone jealous?” she brings her head down trying to meet your eyes and you catch a glimpse of her knowing grin.

“you’re so cute when you’re jealous,” she coos, nudging your chin up with her finger to get you to meet her eyes. “you get all pouty and embarrassed.” her eyes trail down to your lips and like a pair of magnets, her lips slowly find their way to yours. her slow gentle kiss, the warmth of her touch, lulls you for just a moment.

when she pulls away, your eyes make contact for a moment before you avert back it to the wall.

“why are you still avoiding my eyes?”

“i can’t look at you right now.” you mumble.

she lets out a chuckle. “and why is that?”

“because…”

“because…?” she raises her brows expectantly.

“because! If I look at your pretty face right now, it’s just gonna remind me how every other girl thinks you’re pretty too and i can't stand it!” you huff out.

she bursts out laughing, throwing her head back.

“it’s not funny.” you whine, shoving her shoulder.

“maybe just a little.” she says, which makes you pout more –drawing her eyes back down to your lips. she brings a hand up to cup your jaw, pulling your face close enough that you feel her breath on your lips.

“i might hug other people, might even hold their hand… but my lips belong on yours.” her eyes still intensely staring at your lips, her tongue instinctively pokes out to wet her lips as she grazes your bottom lip with her thumb, pushing down on it a little.

“i only kiss you” she pulls you in to connect your lips, a little harder than the last. the kiss grew a little rougher, sloppier before she pulls back. “like this.” bada leans her forehead against yours, trying to catch her breath. you could see a string of your mixed saliva connecting your lips. from the way bada smirks, you can tell she noticed too.

“i only touch you like this.” her hands slide down your body slowly, making sure to take her time. she grazes over your clothed chest, down to pull you at your waist making you arch your body into hers, chests flushing together.

she looks down at where your bodies touched, biting back a smile, before reconnecting your lips. you can tell she was getting needy by how eager her kisses were. her tongue brushes over your bottom lip asking for access, which you give, letting her tongue explore yours. you wrap your arms around her neck, wanting her closer, needing to feel more of her. you feel her fingers dip under the seam of your shirt, grazing lightly over your skin. as though a light graze was not enough for her, she brings her warm hands up your shirt to feel more of you. she stops just above your rib cage, thumbs almost dipping underneath your bra.

“fuck baby, i love how you feel.” she pants out. her touch and words spread warmth throughout your body and your hands instinctively find their way to the back of her neck, giving the hairs a slight tug. she moans into your lips. the sounds of sloppy kisses and her quiet moans echoing through the halls send heat between your legs. as if she can sense it, bada pushes a leg in between yours barely grazing where you need her most. you tug at her hair a little harder for being a tease.

“ah, impatient are we?” she groans, loving the slight pain that shoots down her neck.

“YOU TWO BETTER NOT BE MAKING BABIES IN MY BATHROOM!” the sound of lusher’s voice booming from the living room breaks you two apart.

“THAT’S NOT EVEN BIOLOGICALLY POSSIBLE.” bada yells back, rolling her eyes.

“we’ll continue this later.” she smiles, giving you a quick peck.

bonus:

“so did y’all pick a movie?” bada asks nonchalantly as you both sit back down on the couch.

“yeah, but uh… unnie you smudged your lipstick a little.” kyma pointed at the side of her lips.

bada eyes widen as her hand quickly shoots up to wipe at her lips. the other girls laughed at bada incriminating herself.

“idiot you didn’t wear any lipstick today.” you swatted her hand.

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #swf2 #bebe #wlw

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 25 days ago

Note

Redownloaded GFL because of your blog (also the main reason why I got into it in the first place) and I was surprised with all of the QOL changes they made.

My favorite so far is the non-critical auto repair after battles and it got me thinking how would the AR & DEFY girls react to an SO who scolds them when they return in critical condition but repairs them as tenderly and with as much care as possible despite their harsh demeanor. (Basically a tsundere SO who's worried sick but refuses to admit it)

Love your blog and I hope you're doing well. Thank you for continuously feeding my (and everyone else's) obsession with raifu's.

(GFL) AR Team and DEFY's S/O repairing them

AR Team: M4A1, M16A1, ST AR-15, M4 SOPMOD II, RO635 DEFY: AK-12, AN-94, AK-15, RPK-16

It has been too long since I have written the Raifus on the blog, time to rectify that. Also TSUNDERES WOOOOOO-

M4A1 winces from the light of S/O's blowtorch welding her metallic limbs back together.

Seeing it return to green status in her eyes, she simply sighs when S/O stands up, shifting their welding mask up in order to look at her.

Seeing S/O cross their arms, M4A1 already knows what they're about to say.

(M4A1) "S/O, I know I-"

(S/O) "Went overboard? Psh, that's never stopped you before."

M4A1's hands took a moment to readjust themselves as S/O examined one of her legs that was currently sitting on a nearby table, badly damaged.

(S/O) "It almost seems like what I request to you and the Commander just gets ignored deliberately. Do you think I can repair you all the time without any effort?-"

(M4A1) "S/O."

M4A1's arm that revealed her metallic frame grabbed S/O's hand, finally making them pause.

She gently tugged S/O toward her, and despite their angry expression, the tears forming in the corner of their eyes betrayed any lingering anger that may have been present.

And with her one arm that had the synthetic skin remain, gently wiped away S/O's tear.

(M4A1) "...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

(S/O) "...If you don't mean to do that, then just come home in one piece so I don't have to do this."

Their voice dropped to nearly a whisper, but she had no trouble hearing them clearly.

S/O let M4A1's hand linger on their face for a moment while they took a deep breath again, though this time much calmer than before.

(S/O) "Now stand still, I have to make sure your leg is properly patched up."

(M4A1) "Thank you, S/O."

S/O averted their gaze to grab her leg, though she knew the real reason they refused to meet her eyes, bringing a small but sad smile to her lips.

(S/O) "Don't thank me. I've yet to finish...And you're not walking out of here without my help, understood?"

(M4A1) "Hah, got it."

S/O grumbled under their breath as M16 sheepishly let her jacket drop.

Only to reveal an entire forearm missing.

(M16A1) "...For the record, that wasn't my fault."

(S/O) "Couldn't have grabbed the missing part?"

(M16A1) "It was uh...a little beyond recovering at that point."

(S/O) "You are going to be the death of me, Sixteen."

(M16A1) "Heh, come on! I'm making sure you get Griffin's paychec-"

(S/O) "By what, making sure I put you back together like goddamn Humpty Dumpty everytime you come back?!"

M16 flinched by S/O raising their voice, and only noticed now how tightly S/O was gripping onto her remaining hand.

Which also was damaged.

(S/O) "I get taking damage during a mission, it's unvavoidable, but 90% of the time, it is!"

(M16A1) "...S-S/O, I didn't mean to-"

(S/O) "Don't apologize. Just...Don't make me work so hard."

S/O gaze lingered on her missing limb, to which she responded by grabbing their hand and resting it near her eyepatch.

(M16A1) "Come on, can't have your skills going rusty, can I?"

Her tone was cheeky, but her volume was soft, letting S/O's fingers brush against her cheek before going to grab repair tools.

(S/O) "At this rate, I'm going to need a drink..."

(M16A1) "Heh, wanna share? It's on me."

(S/O) "...Then I'm grabbing the most expensive Jack Daniels they have."

And to that, M16's cocky attitude deflated.

(M16A1) "...Shoulda kept my mouth shut."

STAR rolled her arms the moment she felt the connection back online.

(ST AR-15) "Thanks, feeling much better now."

(S/O) "These parts aren't cheap, STAR.-"

Before she could retort, S/O pulled her wrist towards them, examining it with a scanner before nodding in satisfaction.

(S/O) "And contrary to how you think, your life isn't something to throw away either."

STAR opened her mouth but instead of any reply, only a sigh came out.

(S/O) "If you won't think of yourself, then at least think of me. I have to be the one making sure you're all good to go before you tear yourself apart again."

(ST AR-15) "...R-Right."

S/O shook their head as their hand shifted down into hers, holding it firmly.

(ST AR-15) "I don't plan on going anywhere, S/O."

(S/O) "Hm. Tell me that when you're not coming home to me in twenty pieces."

ST AR-15 wryly grinned at S/O, playfully kicking at them with a missing foot on her right leg, exposing both synthetic skin and the electrical bits inside.

(ST AR-15) "Twenty-one, actually."

S/O turned around to grab other tools, but STAR could tell they smiled at her joke.

(M4 SOPMOD II) "BOOOOOREEEED!"

SOPMOD aggressively wiggled her metallic stumps where her arms previously where, whining as she bobbed back and forth on the table.

S/O focused their attention on finishing the last of the repairs on her arms, with them sighing loudly.

(S/O) "SOPMOD, I told you before, I'm nearly done."

(M4 SOPMOD II) "You said that forever ago!-"

(S/O) "Three minutes-"

(M4 SOPMOD II) "FOREVER!"

S/O did their best to ignore her pouting as they finally completed the necessary adjustments, moving to reattach her arms.

(S/O) "You wouldn't have to wait like this if you just listened to RO, y'know."

(M4 SOPMOD II) "Bah! I wouldn't have been able to kick their asses if I hadn't!"

(S/O) "Plus, you're making me work harder than I have to."

She raised an eyebrow at S/O's words, a grin quickly growing.

(M4 SOPMOD II) "Don't act like that you wouldn't be worried if you weren't the one doing my repairs!"

(S/O) "Please, I already have so much work piled up, I-"

SOPMOD yelped the moment a hiss came from her right arm reattaching, making S/O's heart drop as their eyes widened.

(S/O) "S-SOPMOD! Are you alright?!-"

And their worry was replaced with annoyance as SOPMOD's pained expression transformed into a cheeky smile, tapping S/O playfully on the nose with her claw-like finger.

(M4 SOPMOD II) "Gotcha!"

(RO635) sigh "You have my thanks and apologies, S/O."

S/O shook their head as they softly brushed RO's hair to her back, getting a closer look at the damage on her shoulders.

(S/O) "Hm. I know you avoid damage whenever you can. Just stay still."

Though their tone was cold, it didn't bother RO in the slightest.

She knew how they really felt.

(RO635) "Truthfully, I'm fine S/O. You don't need to worry too much-"

(S/O) "About the bullet that almost tore through your connections on this arm? On the contrary you're giving more reasons to worry."

(RO635) "A-Ah..."

RO's hands rested on her lap, with S/O's head near her neck.

Feeling her core thrum faster as she quickly examined her surroundings to make sure no one was looking, RO stole a quick peck, kissing the top of their head making S/O freeze.

(RO635) "...Sorry, bad time?"

(S/O) "Just...warn me next time before you snap me out of my focus."

12 hummed idly while S/O examined her hand, which was currently beside her, separated from her arm.

(S/O) "How in the world did this happen?"

(AK-12) "Well, you can't just sit on your thumbs all day without doing repair work! Just making sure you're not out of a job."

S/O rolled their eyes at her smug tone, but said nothing as they went about repairing it.

(S/O) "I do repairs everyday while I'm back here, thank you very much."

(AK-12) "Then you won't mind doing one more for your beloved, would you?~"

(S/O) "Isn't it your job to make sure you don't get that hurt?"

(AK-12) "My job is to fulfill whatever Angie tells us. Same for you, as far as I recall."

12's eyes opened slightly as her smile grew.

(AK-12) "And...I'm fairly sure you're not supposed to be treating me like a princess either. But no complaints from me.~"

S/O's cheeks darkened the moment they realized their position: kneeling in front of 12 while putting her hand back gently, which the hand promptly patted S/O's head.

Making their eye twitch as 12 laughed.

If 94 could bow in apology, she would.

However, she was currently laying on the table as multiple mechanical arms set about repairing the damages on her, with S/O standing next to her.

Several bullet wounds were inflicted on her, thankfully mostly superficial, but heavy duty equipment was required.

(S/O) "Good god, how did this even happen?"

(AN-94) "It was my negligence, my apologies S/O. I will have to be more alert."

S/O's hand reached to her lower back, moving her to sit upright as the arms whirred away to give them space.

(S/O) "You better. I don't want to have to do this everytime."

(AN-94) "The last thing I want to do is burden you."

(S/O) "Hey. I didn't say that-"

(AN-94) "But-"

S/O put a finger to her lips, making her blink as her eyes trailed to her lover, who was in the process of covering their mouth.

And failing to hide a blush.

(S/O) "I just...don't want to see you hurt, Ninety-Four."

(AN-94) "S/O"

(S/O) "I said please extend your arms. I have to do final inspection and see if I need any touch-ups."

(AN-94) "...Understood."

94 heard them clearly, but still didn't understand why S/O always seemed flustered saying these kinds of things.

15 stoically turned to S/O as they finished their repairs, allowing her to stand up properly, with S/O gently guiding her up.

She gave a single nod, slow and grateful.

(AK-15) "Thank you, S/O. Your repairs are efficient as always."

(S/O) "Can't have our strongest given to some shoddy engineer, after all."

She hummed in agreement, before taking a moment to bow.

(AK-15) "I apologize for having made the mistake of getting hurt to begin with."

Truthfully, 15 always took the worst of the damage, but that was because she was essentially a walking tank.

Hell, S/O was fairly positive 15 could actually beat the tank to death with her bare hands.

(S/O) "D-Damage is unavoidable. Don't apologize for it. As long as you always come back to me, it's fine."

A moment passed before S/O's eyes widened, in disbelief in what 15 got them to say out loud.

(AK-15) "Is something the matter? Your heartrate has spiked-"

(S/O) "N-Nothing! It's nothing!"

16 raised an eyebrow seeing how kindly S/O attended to her.

Not a moment ago they were chastising her for even taking damage, making S/O work so hard.

(RPK-16) "My, what happened to that foul attitude from earlier, S/O?"

(S/O) "What are you talking about?"

She giggled, tilting her head past the equipment to see S/O tending to her leg.

(RPK-16) "Do you perhaps find peace working on me after all? You don't seem nearly as upset now that I'm here-"

(S/O) "Psh, don't get it mixed up. I'm happy to get you fixed and out of the repair bay."

(RPK-16) "Aw, you do care!"

(S/O) "About my work-"

(RPK-16) "And, you're working on me."

S/O mumbled something, making RPK-16 laugh.

Humans were so prideful sometimes...

Well, all the time really.

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abbyromanoff · 1 year ago

Text

TARGET 1

PAIRINGS: Ghostface!Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 2581

WARNINGS: bottom!Nat, kinda dark reader, Mommy (R), smut obvi, mentions of face riding, hand jobs, breeding, little!Nat, praise, pet names, Nat is referred to as “bear” a lot, small angst, wrote this in abt an hour so it’s not that great :/, think that’s all tho :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Screams echoed through the dark alley, and Nat cursed herself for not thinking to cover the victim’s mouth. Someone could hear, and with the news of the recent killings spreading, she didn’t want to risk finally being caught.

The blood oozed out of the man’s wound, and Nat smiled as she grabbed her camera. She examined her surroundings, making sure nobody was nearby before she took multiple photos, placing them in her pocket after making sure they were perfect for you. She sent a text your way, updating you on her completion before removing the mask and cloak, placing them in her bag while she placed a single headphone in, making sure she looked like a normal citizen and not a killer who just took away the life of an innocent man. You told her to be safe on her voyage home and received a quick photo of her grinning with a thumbs up, giving you all the closure you needed as you set up the bath. You ensured the water was hot so it would cool to an even temperature by the time she was home. You placed her favorite toys in the pile of bubbles and ventured into the kitchen, waiting for the oven to set off and to hear the twisting of keys to your shared apartment.

“Mommy? I’m home!” You heard a giggly Nat alert you, causing you to peek your head out of the room. She smiled when she saw you and tried rushing forward, only to be stopped by your voice.

“Ah, ah, what’s the rule with shoes in the house?” She looked down, noticing a small trail of blood she left on the floor. She rushed an apology and placed them on the rack next to the coat hanger, continuing her way to you and throwing her arms around you in a hurry.

“Mm, I missed you, bear.” You placed your hands on both of her cheeks, squishing the plush skin before leaving a quick peck on her lips. Her dimples shined under her large blush and you chuckled, placing one last kiss on her forehead before grabbing her plate of food.

“I know you must be so hungry after all your hard work today, I thought you deserved a little treat.”

“Breakfast for dinner? Oh, thank you, Mommy!” You knew it was her favorite, and while it was a bit of a hassle, you’d rather spend half an hour cleaning if you got to see her smile so large. She poured the maple syrup over her waffle before grabbing the whipped cream, only to be stopped by a hand.

“I think it’s best if Mommy does that for you, we don’t want you dirtying up your shirt, now do we?” You also knew she loved to go over the top with sweetness, whipped cream being one of those. While she deserved a lovely treat, it was best if she didn’t plow down piles of food and complain later on about stomach pain.

“Would you like me to cut your waffle for you, love?” She grappled onto your arm, resting her head on the soft skin as she watched your every move.

“Yes, please.” Her mouth felt empty, usually, she had her pacifier to soothe her in times of calmness like this. So, she took to biting her lip instead, a habit you’ve been trying to have her let go of.

“There you go. Why don’t you eat up and you can tell me all about your little adventure tonight, okay?” She nodded, instantly taking her fork and picking the piece she saw first. You sighed with contentment before taking the seat across from her, occasionally feeling her foot slap against your leg as she swung them happily.

“I even got a bunch of pictures for you!” She concluded her rant, reaching into her pocket where the Polaroids were stored.

“No talking with your mouth full, bear,” You reminded her, making her stop as she swallowed the nourishment before continuing. She placed each of them on the table, taking a sip of her apple juice before explaining each one.

“And guess what? I stabbed him, like, a billion times! I forgot to cover his mouth on accident, so I made sure to leave before anyone heard him or saw me.” You nodded along with her statements, standing alongside her as the two of you cleaned each dish.

“Now, baby, you need to make sure you’re being careful, I don’t want you to get caught.”

“I know, Mommy, I promise I’m usually really careful, but I got a little excited this time.” The man wasn’t a terrible person, but in her mind he was. He was your boss and had been setting unrealistic expectations for all of his workers, including you. This meant longer hours and more stress, which also meant less time that Nat got to spend with you. You tried making it up to her, and she didn’t blame you, but she knew this was the best gift she could offer you. After all, you do so much for her, you deserved a thank you.

“That’s alright, we’re just going to need to wait a little bit longer until we find someone, this time.”

The two of you quickly finished the load of dishes, thankful that there wasn’t a lot. You led her to the bathroom, helping rid her of her clothing before she settled in the bathtub. She played with the toys, allowing her giggles to be presented instead of shying away. She was never appreciated in the ways you showed her, so being able to remove that ounce of fear she held felt undeniably relieving.

“Mommy, can I ask you something?” She asked in a low voice, clinging onto the towel you wrapped around her. You furrowed your brows but gave her permission, your worry only growing as her gaze faltered to the floor.

“Do you really think I’m good at this type of stuff?” She had been trained her entire life to kill, it was all she ever knew. She was of the highest rankings at such a young age, but the constant competition and downgrading she received failed to fill her confidence. All she ever wanted was to be good enough, and now that goal was even more important with you by her side.

“Oh, honey, of course, you are! I’m always so proud of you and your work, nothing will ever change that.” She sat on the edge of the bed, the cracked window causing goosebumps to erupt on her naked skin. You took the signal to shut it before returning, kneeling before her as you patched up a small cut on her knee. She eyed the Frozen bandaid with a smile, running her fingertip over the area before returning her gaze to you.

“But you don’t seem as excited about it as before, am I doing something wrong?” Her lips formed into a pout that she tried to hide, only to be exposed as you brought her face to meet yours.

“No, that’s not it at all. I’m so sorry, bear, I’ve been so stressed over work, and with the holidays coming up, I guess I’ve been neglecting you as a result. I’m so sorry, it was never my intent to hurt you.” She relished in the fact that the truth was now out and she could be at ease, but she felt saddened at your reaction. She didn’t want to hurt you, but now you were the one with a heavy heart.

“No, it’s okay! I- I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t doing something wrong, I’m not mad at you.” You rubbed her sides gently, taking the seat next to her as you wrapped your arm around her small frame. She rested her head on your shoulder out of instinct.

“You did so well tonight, I think I’m going to hang those photos up on the fridge so I’ll always be reminded of how talented you are.” Her legs rested on top of yours as she kissed your cheek in appreciation. You chuckled, doing the same to her while your hand rested on her thigh. You inched further, watching her shuffle impossibly closer to you as a result.

“You know what I think? I think that my girl deserves a little reward for just how well she did.” Your thumb made contact with her tip, the action bringing a shiver throughout Nat’s body. She grinned through a bitten lip, her cheeks turning a shade of red as you removed the skin from her teeth.

“You need to stop that, baby, you know I don’t like it.” She rushed a quick apology before a small gasp left her. She removed the towel from her lower half, only to see your hand now wrapped around her length, stroking a continued motion slowly.

“M- Mommy, that feels really nice.” You hummed, your eyes falling to the area of attention. You removed your hand, causing a whine of disapproval from your girlfriend. You shushed her, guiding her to lay on her back as she spotted her stuffed animal. It was a plush dinosaur that you got her years ago, she still cherished it. You pressed a kiss to her forehead before doing the same to the soft creature in her arms.

“Close your eyes, I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” She questioned when you stood in front of the door. You turned to look at her as you removed your shirt, exposing the black bra to her eyesight. They widened, her cock hardening even further before you closed the door behind you. She tried to follow your orders of sitting tight and closing her eyes, but the anticipation was so high. She wanted to know what you were doing, she wanted to feel your touch again. Her palm lowered down her body without realization, and she couldn’t hold back the whimper as she brushed over her balls. They were so sensitive, but you always said that was your favorite part about them.

“Natty, baby? Are your eyes closed?” She retracted her hand instantly, hoping you wouldn’t get a glance at her antics. You were never one for letting her touch herself, she suspected that wasn’t going to change tonight.

“Yup!” She heard the door squeak and had to fight the urge to look, but she remained how you wanted her, and she knew that pleased you when she heard small cooing.

“Aren’t you just the cutest little girl ever? Mommy is so, so lucky to have you, bear.” You ran your cool hands against her nipples, resulting in the buds hardening. She stifled a moan as you went lower, your fingers tracing over the same area she had just teased. She hoped you couldn’t tell, she never knew how but you seemed to know everything, especially when it came to her.

“I could just…eat you up!” Your hand enclosed around her cock, creating the same movements as you started earlier. She was grateful to have the return of your touch, but it wasn’t quite enough. Her hips thrusted with every stroke, her desperation being made clear to anyone who could see her.

“Oh, did you need something?” She whimpered when you came to a halt, your thumb collecting the pre cum from her drooling tip. You rubbed it over her bottom lip, letting her get a taste of the sweet nectar you grew addicted to.

“You, I…I want you.”

“But you have me, don’t you?” Your condescending tone brought her to quiver in excitement and fear.

“I need to be in you, Mommy…please?” You crooned, hovering over her length and letting the head tease your folds. You moaned, rubbing your clit in small circles. You continued until she couldn’t bear it anymore and finally let yourself soak in the pleasure, and allowing her to feel your warm walls clenching around her.

“Fuck, my little girl is so big, can barely even fit.” You groaned, interlacing your fingertips with hers. She seemed content with the praise and let her hips follow your movements, hoping she was doing it correctly in order to make you feel good, but that was quickly proven by your high-pitched moans.

“Right- right there- ah! Don’t stop, baby, don’t you dare fucking stop!” You leaned your face down, admiring the fact that she continued to comply to your request even in a state of such arousal.

“You can open your eyes now, bear.” She fluttered them open, blinking twice as she came to register the sight in front of her. The mask covered your face, the black paint looking into her eyes and she suddenly felt like someone else. She was no longer the killer, she was the victim.

“You like the mask? Yeah? Good, I was hoping you’d say that.” Your pants caused your chest to heave, your breasts bouncing in her face as a result. She removed a hand from yours, using her digits to caress the soft peaks before wrapping her lips around one, then switching to the other. The coil in her stomach tightened with each clench and each thrust, her eyes squeezing shut as she forced herself to slow down.

“Don’t hold back, bear, I want to feel your cum so deep inside of me.” She looked at you one more time for permission, using your short nod as approval to let go. Her teeth bit down gently as a result, causing you to hiss as she hurried to explain herself. You cut her off before she could speak, and she found herself unable to do so as she painted your walls white. You let her ride out her high, finding yourself unable to care for the orgasm you threatened yourself into having. It was cut short, and Nat wasn’t going to allow that.

“Mommy-”

“Shh, shh, don’t worry about me, just fill Mommy’s pussy.” Your tight hole greedily accepted her, and your womb greedily accepted her seed. You felt so full, but you were nowhere near done.

“You see this?” You pointed the knife in front of her, she gulped in fear before it led into hunger. You led the weapon to your chest as you leaned back, drawing it from the bottom of the mask to your lower waist. You grasped her palm, placing the knife in her hand as you allowed her to sit up. When doing so, her cock maneuvered inside of you, bringing a shudder of pleasure from both of you.

“I want you to mark me, baby. I want every single fucking soul to know exactly who’s Mommy I am.” She smiled, letting the object slowly and barely seep into you, it was just enough to leave a mark but nowhere near as bad to injure you greatly.

“And I want you to tell me while you write just how much of a good girl you are, and just how much Mommy loves their little bear.” You pet her head, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as she continued. You felt your hips threatening to repeat from earlier but held off until she finished.

“There, all done.” ‘Owner of Natty Bear’ was sloppily written on your skin, the blood dripping down your side as you praised the younger female.

“Mm, you did so good, Princess. Now, I think Mommy deserves a little treat, as well, yeah?” She nodded happily. “Alright, lay down, Mommy’s going to ride that cute face.”

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