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#*sips tea* this is fine. everything is fine
seulrinnie-rinrin · 2 days
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The Man Next Door
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SUMMARY | San is your brother’s friend and your next door neighbor. Despite the constant bickering, you can’t deny the attraction between you both. PAIRING | San/Reader GENRE | non-idol!San, smut with no plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, vaginal sex RATING | Mature LENGTH | 4602 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi and hello. Enjoy~
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"Can you stop that infernal noise?!" You pounded on your neighbor's door as you heard the sound of power tools once again. The banging went on and on. "Damn it, I've asked you a dozen times to turn down your shi..."
The door burst open, your angry glare landing on a grinning face. "You know, Y/N, I don't say shit about the noises you make when you're working on your remo..."
You cut him off before he could finish. "I want it quiet! And I mean really quiet!"
"Well, damn." He crossed his arms in front of himself and leaned against the doorframe, obviously amused. "And here I thought you were going to storm into my place and grab my tools."
You let out a groan and ran a hand through your hair. "You're so annoying San. If I wasn't so pissed off at that loud ass thing over there I would kick your fucking ass."
He burst out laughing. "See? You like me after all. What if I said no?"
"Can we not?" You let out a sigh. "Please, can I have some quiet?"
"Why? You have a guy over or something?" He raised an eyebrow, knowing you didn't get a date often enough for anything like that to be true.
"What's it to you, huh? Jealous?" Your mouth twitched up slightly as you tried to hold back a smile.
"Hell no, I'm just curious, is all." He held up his hands defensively. "So who is he? Your boyfriend?"
"Fuck off, San." You rolled your eyes. "But if you wanted to know, my parents are visiting me and I would appreciate it if you kept the noise to a minimum. Once my parents leave, then we can start our bickering like usual."
"Is that a promise?" His eyes glinted mischievously.
"Fine."
He gave you one last leer before turning around and closing the door behind him. You made your way back to your condo next door, your parents curiously giving you looks from the living room where they sat watching TV.
"Is everything alright with your neighbors?" Your mom inquired as she took a sip of her tea.
"Sorry about that. San is remodeling his place right now." You replied, your cheeks growing hot as your dad snorted softly.
"How romantic." Your mother commented wryly.
"Mom, please." You rolled your eyes and waved your hands at them. "He's like the most irritating person ever and-"
"You're still arguing with him, Y/N?" Your brother walked out of the bathroom. Seonghwa gave you a strange look before taking a seat next to your mom.
"Seonghwa, I swear I am going to kill that man." You mumbled angrily as you rubbed the bridge of your nose. "Of all people, how did your friend end up being my neighbor?"
"It's destiny." Your brother replied cheerfully, causing both of your parents to laugh. "It was meant to be. You two should go out together. There's nothing wrong with trying."
"Mom! Tell Seonghwa to stop it." You glared at your mother.
She giggled as she continued talking to Seonghwa. "Yes, love. Your sister and San should get together. How many times has he looked at her?"
"A lot." Seonghwa smiled as he watched your face grow redder.
You groaned as you got out of your chair and headed towards the kitchen. "I hate my life sometimes."
"Oh come on. If you hate the thought of going out with San, then why don't you just find an actual boyfriend?" Seonghwa pulled you back by the waistband of your pants. Your mouth fell open as your gaze landed on your brother. He gave you a smirk as he started pulling you back towards the couch. "I think Yeosang is single..."
You turned to your parents. "Mom, Dad. Please tell your precious son to stop hooking me up with his friends. It's getting old and I swear I will hit him if he tries this again."
Your parents chuckled as they shook their heads at you. They knew that your brother was just doing it because he loved you. He didn't care if you ended up liking them or not. All he cared about was that you found someone special to spend time with and make memories with.
They weren't stupid though. After all, you hadn't dated anyone seriously since breaking up with your first serious boyfriend. If he wanted you to settle down soon, then it only made sense that he'd try to set you up with a good looking guy with good family values. One that wouldn't cheat on you or be too needy. That's what your brother had always told you.
San.
Despite him irritating you to no end, he was a good guy. A kind-hearted person that would never intentionally hurt another person. You knew that because even when he was teasing you mercilessly, you couldn't help but see the soft side of him. It was impossible not to, especially when he was being sweet. And sure, you couldn't deny being insanely attracted to him either. His voice, those ridiculously perfect lips, his gorgeous eyes... Everything about him screamed sexy, and the way he treated you when you were alone with him made you weak in the knees.
"Y/N? Are you okay?" Seonghwa placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.
"Yeah. Just give me a second." You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Opening your eyes again, you looked up at your brother. "Do you think it's a bad idea to ask him out?"
"Oh? Do you perhaps like San?" He raised an eyebrow, and then started to laugh as he saw the look of horror cross your face. "Kidding, Y/N! Of course you do. I don't think he'll mind the fact that you've been crushing on him since high school."
"I have not been crushing on him since high school!" You exclaimed defensively.
"Uh huh. Tell yourself that. Because I'm pretty sure he noticed." Seonghwa chuckled. "Do you have dreams about him too?"
"Stop it." You groaned.
"No really. I won't stop until you admit it." Seonghwa smirked.
"I'm going to punch you in the face when Mom and Dad aren't around." You grumbled, glaring at your brother.
"So...?" He grinned mischievously. "What are you going to do?"
You groaned as you got out of the couch. "Mom, Dad. Don't stop me when I throttle my own brother. Seriously."
They laughed as you stalked towards the door. Grabbing your phone off the counter, you slammed the door behind you and headed towards San's place next door. San was outside washing his car when you walked out. His head shot up when he saw you standing there, and you immediately felt your face heat up. God, it was hard not to blush every time he caught your eye. As much as you hated admitting it, San was incredibly attractive. But even more than his appearance, it was his personality that got you. His humor, his kindness, and the way he teased you constantly...
God, you wished you were less awkward around him. You spent so much time daydreaming about what it would be like to kiss him and spend the night in bed with him, that it had become difficult to function normally around him, hence the bickering with him over the years.
"You okay there, Y/N?" He spoke softly as he came closer to you.
You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. "It's nothing. Just Seonghwa being annoying as always."
"Ah, Seonghwa." San let out a laugh. "Trying to matchmake yet again?"
"Shut up." You muttered under your breath.
His smile grew wider as he moved in front of you. "Who was it this time? Jongho? Mingi?"
You shook your head. "Yeosang."
"Really?" He raised an eyebrow, surprised.
"Really, really." You sighed. "I told Seonghwa that I'll beat him up the next time he tries to butt into my love life. So that means I owe him a beating."
San cocked his head to the side as he studied you. "Hmm... A chance to hit Seonghwa for you. That does sound fun."
"Feel free to beat him up. He is your friend after all." You shrugged and shook your head. "Anyway, I came here for something else. Seonghwa won't leave me alone unless I ask you this...Do you...Uhm...Think it's a bad idea to ask you out?"
His smile grew bigger as he pulled you close to him. "Oh my god, I can't believe I have to hear you asking me this question already. We've been friends for years, what makes you think it's a bad idea?"
You frowned and bit your lip. "I just feel like it might cause problems between us... Ugh." You huffed and looked away from him. "Nevermind. Forget I asked."
"It's fine. Really." He placed a gentle finger under your chin and gently tilted your head upwards. "It's perfectly normal to want to ask a friend out. And I know you like to look at me when you think no one's around. Even if you pretend you don't, I know you do."
"I swear one of these days I'm going to beat you up instead of Seonghwa." You mumbled as you stared into his eyes.
He let out a laugh. "Are you going to start fighting everyone you meet now? It's cute. Kinda."
You blushed slightly and quickly looked away. "Stop flirting with me. You're making me lose focus."
"I wouldn't dream of it." He winked at you before releasing your chin and stepping away.
You crossed your arms and glared at him. "So... Will you go out with me?"
"Maybe." He smiled cheekily.
Your jaw dropped and you widen your eyes. Was that a yes? "W-what?!"
"Shh. Be patient." He winked at you. "Just wait for my answer."
"But-"
"One. More. Minute." He smiled. "And then you can say whatever you want."
"Seriously, you guys need to just make out already." An annoyed voice called from inside the house. "You two drive me crazy sometimes."
"Oh, dear God." You mumbled under your breath. "Seonghwa is coming out now."
"Hello, loverboy." Seonghwa laughed as he walked out of your condo. He patted San on the back. "I take it that my crazy, violent sister asked you out?"
"Yeah. She kinda did." San chuckled, reaching for your hand and intertwining your fingers with his.
"Well, I suppose it's better late than never." Seonghwa smirked. "Still though, it's about time you guys went out."
You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face. Seonghwa wasn't exactly wrong. In fact, he was right. You had gone out with your friends and tried dating other people without success. But honestly, there was something missing in those relationships. Something that you felt only with San. Sure, he was a huge flirt, and he was usually joking around whenever he saw you. But it was more than that. You could always tell how genuinely happy he was to see you. How excited he was when he saw you smile. And his caring nature... He put you first in everything. Always putting you before himself. He always wanted to make sure you were safe and taken care of, before thinking of his own needs.
The fact that he was super hot didn't hurt either.
You squeezed San's fingers tightly, wanting to convey to him how much you cared about him. You also wanted to show him how happy you were that he agreed to go out with you. For some reason, you felt nervous that he might say no, despite the fact that you both knew you wanted each other. You knew he liked you. Hell, you liked him too. He was the only person who seemed to understand you, who knew how to push your buttons and get under your skin.
"Y/N, why are you squeezing my hand so tight?" San laughed.
"I'm not." You mumbled, slowly letting go of his hand.
Seonghwa burst out laughing. "Sure you are."
"Ha ha." You smirked. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with this very handsome man." You turned to San and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
"I'm going to show you how to properly kiss later." San laughed, his arms snaking around your waist.
You grinned and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Can't wait."
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It was a Saturday afternoon and you were relaxing on the couch while watching a movie with San. You had to admit that you felt a bit nervous being wrapped in his arms, but you couldn't deny the butterflies flying around in your stomach every time he touched you.
"Are you feeling alright?" San asked you softly. You hummed in response and looked away. "Is there anything wrong?"
"Do you really want to know?" You rolled your eyes playfully. "It's like I've lost my mind or something."
"Losing your mind doesn't mean that you've lost your ability to speak." He lightly poked you in the nose.
"And yet you still manage to insult me, Choi San." You snorted. "Fine. I'm just freaking out."
"Why?" He asked, concerned.
"Because..." You sighed and ran your hands through your hair. "There are so many things I'd like to do with you...Things I've fantasized about doing since high school."
"Oh? What kind of things?" He smirked.
You bit your lip nervously. "Like...kissing you senseless. And sleeping in your arms all night. And waking up next to you... You get the picture."
He leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. "Okay, okay. I'll make all of those things come true."
Your heart started racing as he pulled back and held your gaze. For a second, you thought he was going to kiss you, but he quickly moved away, giving you a smile instead. You couldn't help but frown a bit. Ever since you agreed to go with San, he had yet to really kiss you and you weren't sure why. Sure you, kissed. A peck here and there but it wasn't nearly enough. You longed for the moment when he finally did kiss you, fully and passionately. But so far, he had refrained from even trying. Maybe you were expecting too much. Perhaps you should just go with the flow. Let things happen naturally.
Right?
Later that night, you found yourself in bed, staring at the ceiling.
This is stupid. I should stop thinking about him and just sleep.
You scolded yourself. You've been doing it for years and nothing bad happened, so what's stopping you now?
Sleep. You need to sleep.
Closing your eyes, you tried to ignore the fact that San's face kept flashing before your eyes. You attempted to block out the memory of his soft lips touching yours, your hands running through his silky hair and the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch.
Focus. Sleep.
Nope.
You sat up in bed and grabbed your phone from your nightstand.
If I can't fall asleep, I may as well text him and try to talk to him. At least it will occupy my mind for a while. Right?
It only took you a couple of minutes to compose a message to San. You closed your phone and tossed it onto the bed next to you. Not two minutes later, your phone vibrated and you jumped at the unexpected sound. Picking up your phone, you read San's reply.
San: What did you want to talk about? Can't sleep? I'll hold your hand until you doze off.
A goofy grin spread across your face as you read his reply. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his name and it was difficult to suppress the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Before you realized it, you were typing another message to him:
You: Hard to sleep when all I could think about is kissing you senseless. Tried to count sheep. Didn't work.
Minutes passed and you got a notification telling you that San replied. You hurriedly unlocked your phone and opened his message.
San: What else were you thinking about? Want to share them with me?
You reread his message and a wide smile appeared on your face. It only took you seconds to type it out.
You: Weird thoughts of you.
San's reply came almost instantly. Your cheeks flushed red as you stared at the screen.
San: What kind of thoughts? Sexy ones?
Before you knew it, you typed out another message.
You: Want to know what they were about?
San immediately replied. His response made you blush again. Your breathing picked up as you stared at your phone, waiting for his response.
San: Give me details. Now.
Slowly moving your thumbs, you typed out your reply.
You: Thoughts of your fingers running down my body. Fingers that would eventually find their way inside me.
A few minutes passed before you received a reply. You peeked at your phone anxiously, wondering if he was done responding. When the message alert popped up, you couldn't hide your surprise.
San: And in these thoughts of yours, did you like my fingers? Because I would love to use them...All over you.
Wow. Just wow. That sent chills down your spine and it took everything you had to remain focused on the topic at hand. Thinking about how good his fingers felt made you imagine how it would feel to be underneath him, feeling his strong arms wrap around you as he pinned you down. Oh god, you couldn't stop thinking about it. In fact, the thought alone sent shivers down your spine. You barely noticed when San responded again.
San: Yes. You liked them. More than you ever imagined possible. I'd like to make those thoughts become reality. One day. Soon. Please?
You bit your lip, before responding.
You: Kiss me first and then I'll let you do whatever you want.
San replied a minute later.
San: Whatever I want?
And you proceeded to write the next part.
You: Whatever you want. From the way you touch me to the way you taste me.
Several moments passed and San's reply came through. Your eyes widened as you read his words.
San: Why don't we make our fantasies come true? Tonight. Come over here. Now.
Letting out a small laugh, you pushed yourself up and headed towards his place. It took you but seconds to reach his condo, but you didn't waste any time once you arrived. You knocked on the door loudly, anxious to see him. A moment later, he opened the door and you felt your heart rate pick up. Without saying a word, you flung yourself into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing your body firmly against his. He returned the hug fiercely and placed his hands gently on your hips, deepening the kiss.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours. You pulled away and looked into his eyes. The intense look in his eyes was making you feel slightly dizzy and nervous.
"Is this okay?" You whispered softly.
He brushed your lips with a thumb. "Never knew that you wanted me this bad."
You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck. "I do. I've wanted you forever."
His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he kissed you again. You moaned in pleasure as he deepened the kiss. After several minutes, he pulled away from you and smiled. "Come in."
With one last lingering kiss, you reluctantly pulled away and entered his home. After closing the door and taking your shoes off, San pushed you gently against the wall, holding you firmly by the hips. His mouth hovered above yours as he watched you, trying to take in every little detail. Finally, he lowered his head and planted another soft kiss on your lips.
The kiss was brief, but it left you panting. You brought your hands up and pressed them against his chest, enjoying the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat. Slowly moving your hands up his back and around his neck, you pulled him closer to you.
"I want to do a lot more than just kiss tonight, Y/N." San said huskily.
"Yes." You whispered back. "I want to do more than just kiss too."
San's lips left yours and trailed down your jawline, leaving wet kisses along the way. Finally, he stopped at the base of your throat and slowly nipped your skin, causing you to moan softly. Leaning in, he kissed the spot where he bit you and you whimpered. "Don't make me wait anymore, Y/N."
You reached up and grabbed his shoulders, keeping him in place as he continued to tease you. Slowly licking up your neck, he lingered on your pulse point and teased you with feather light kisses. "San... Please..."
As if reading your mind, he gripped your chin tightly and lifted your head. His eyes met yours and you saw desire blazing behind them. Gently brushing his lips against yours, he lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom, leaving a trail of kisses behind him. Once in the bedroom, he kicked the door shut and began undressing you as soon as he set you down on the bed. Your shirt flew across the room and landed somewhere on the floor, followed by your shorts, bra and panties. His lips pressed against your skin, eliciting soft gasps of pleasure from you. You squirmed under his touch, desperately wanting more.
Suddenly, San pulled away and his hands grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it up. His eyes remained fixed on yours as he revealed his bare chest. With one swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it aside. You could feel your breath catch in your throat as you gazed at his muscular torso. You reached out and caressed his abs lightly, enjoying the soft feel of his skin beneath your fingertips. You pulled at the waistband of his sweats and soon had them off of him, tossing them to the side.
You didn't have to ask twice; San immediately rolled over on top of you and pressed his lips against yours. He pinned your wrists above your head, covering your body with his own as he kissed you passionately. Moans escaped from your lips as his tongue slid past your lips, plunging into your mouth. After a few moments, he pulled away and stared at you with hooded eyes.
"Do you want me, Y/N?"
"Yes." You whispered softly.
"Tell me how badly you want me."
"Very badly."
San leaned forward and sucked on your bottom lip, gently biting it before letting it go. "Good girl." He said, kissing you again.
Again, his lips left yours and moved down your jawline, leaving wet kisses on the way. He trailed his kisses lower, stopping at the hollow of your throat. His hot breath fanned across your skin as he licked your skin. His fingers suddenly clasped your breasts, squeezing them roughly. Your nipples hardened under his touch and a low moan escaped your lips. You arched your back, pushing your breasts further into his hands, craving more.
San's hands dropped from your breasts and trailed down your sides, coming to rest on your hips. One hand trailed slowly down your thigh and pressed against your pussy, making you gasp. "You're wet, Y/N." He said in a husky voice. "You're so wet for me."
Unable to form coherent sentences, you simply nodded your head.
"Touch yourself." He commanded. Sitting up, you placed your palms on your thighs and used them to spread your legs wider. You glanced up at San and found him staring at you with lust filled eyes. "Touch yourself, baby."
With shaky hands, you tentatively touched yourself, moaning softly as you ran your fingers along your clit. You gasped at the sudden rush of pleasure that coursed through your body as you began to finger yourself. The pleasurable tingling quickly turned into a throbbing ache between your legs. When you felt the telltale sign of your orgasm approaching, you slipped two fingers inside yourself, stretching your pussy wider.
"Fuck, baby." San let out a moan as he watched you pleasure yourself. "Tell me how you're feeling."
"So fucking close." You managed to say. "Please, San... I need you inside me."
"I'm not gonna make you wait much longer." San groaned. His gaze softened as he gave you a slow smile. "But for now... Let me watch you finish yourself off."
Normally when you touched yourself, it never felt like this. But the combination of watching San's eyes glaze over with desire and having him watch you touch yourself, intensified the pleasure tenfold. The pulsating ache became even stronger and before long, you felt yourself begin to tense up.
"San...I can't hold back..." You moaned, pulling your hand away from your wet pussy. You felt a burst of heat rush through your body as your orgasm ripped through your body, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body. The force of your climax caused your knees to buckle and San instantly rolled over, supporting you with his arms. His gaze fell upon your flushed face, a content grin plastered on his face.
"That was beautiful, baby." San said, kissing your forehead. "God, I've been waiting all night to hear you call out my name."
"San, I need you now." You pleaded softly. "Please."
"Yeah, baby." He breathed heavily. "I know."
In an instant, he sunk into you, filling you completely. As soon as he did, your eyes fluttered closed and you held onto him tightly. The overwhelming sensation of him finally being inside you sent tremors of ecstasy coursing through your body. You cried out as he slowly thrust himself into you, setting a steady pace. Each movement was a reminder of how perfect this man was for you and how lucky you were to have him.
"Fuck, San..." You let out a moan.
He gently stroked your hair as you clung to him, murmuring loving words in your ear. Together, you rode the waves of pleasure as your bodies intertwined. Your hands grasped onto his back, relishing in the gentle contact of his skin. Every touch made your heart race faster and soon you were reaching the peak again. You moaned his name as your orgasm crashed over you, causing you to squeeze him tighter. As you neared your release, you felt San begin to shudder beneath you. You opened your eyes to find his gaze locked on yours.
Slowly, he buried his face into your neck and let out a loud groan. "Y/N... Fuck... Baby... I'm gonna cum."
You tighten your grip around him, urging him on as he poured everything he had into you. For a moment, nothing else existed but you and him as your bodies clung together, relishing in the blissful afterglow. After several moments, you released his back and lay there in silence, trying to catch your breath. As your breathing slowed, you felt San's weight shift slightly, rolling over onto his side. With a smile on your face, you turned your head and nestled into his warm embrace. He pulled you closer to him and placed a soft kiss on your temple.
After several moments, he spoke softly in your ear. "Did all your thoughts and fantasies come true, Y/N?"
You laughed quietly. "Every single one."
He grinned and kissed your cheek. "Mine too."
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Can we talk about Tewkesbury's poster for a second? How the flower petals look like hearts and that they're the color pink? His shirt has a flower design on it? And how the captions are "Holmes is where his HEART is?" 👀
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sipsteainanxiety · 1 year
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“Only 10k”
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I hope the boys will all be human for most of them at least 😒
LORI PLS CAUGHT IN 4K LMDFKJHGKDFG this is all ur fault for giving me ideas for the sequel actually </3 /lh
i promise they'll be human for the (almost) entire thing LMAOOOOOO i cant do another fic where theyre a dragon or sumthin for 75% of it KHFDSHFG i cant im suffering
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burglar-bird · 2 years
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How I write fics
*stares at empty word doc*
*opens new doc and writes a scene 5 chapters later*
*goes back to OG doc*
*hysterical laughter*
*gets up to make calming tea and maybe cry*
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lemonlover1110 · 8 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖
Kento Nanami
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Pairing: Kento Nanami x f!Reader
Summary: Your neighbor always watches you at night, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.
Warnings: MDNI, smut, voyeurism, exhibitionism, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, squirting, creampie, Nanami takes panties and doesn't give them back
10k Event Masterlist
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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At nine at night, you get out of the shower and walk to your room with nothing but a towel. A towel that’s dropping and getting dangerously low with every step you take. You make no effort to hold the towel and it eventually drops to the ground– It happens nightly. 
You don’t seem to care to close the curtains, you don’t care if the whole world sees you naked. And your neighbor shakes his head in disapprovement every time he sees. He sits on the armchair that’s in his room, facing his window, one that looks directly into your room as he sips on his nightly tea. 
Kento watches you bend down to the lowest drawer, and grab a pair of panties. God, he feels so perverted doing this, but he isn’t a pervert. You’re showing yourself to the world, he isn’t at fault that his eyes just happen to look. He might be at fault for continuing to stare, but he isn’t a pervert.
Occasionally you make eye contact, and he’s bold enough to remain watching. And you’re bold enough to accidentally drop something, and remain naked as you slowly pick it up. You do everything much slower, really different from when you first walked into the room. Kento enjoys the show that you put on, putting everything on so painfully slowly so he can admire every inch of your body even from a distance.
Suddenly you have to get something from across the room, and you’re still naked. He can’t complain though, he likes the view, that’s why he continues admiring it. You grab your phone and lay down on the bed, where you indulge yourself in something– He doesn’t know what, but you’re entertaining yourself. His eyes still linger on your naked body, and he’s thinking of everything he’d do to you.
He finally feels like a pervert when he’s thinking of having you under him or on top of him, he doesn’t mind. He just wants to hear his neighbor’s cute little voice as she yells his name over and over again. He’d love to have a taste of her.
You look back at him again, where they make eye contact. You have a sly smile on her face before you stand up from the bed and finally put on your underwear and your pajamas. Kento is almost sad to have it be over so soon, he was hoping you’d put on even more of a show for him. He assumes it had to end eventually.
You walk over to the window, and you blow a kiss at your neighbor before you shut the curtain, leaving his field of view. The man stares back at his own reflection in the window, almost embarrassed by his actions.
He’ll see you tomorrow again, he’s not sure how he’ll face you. Perhaps he’ll apologize, even though he knows that at the same time tomorrow, he’ll do it all over again. He tries to focus his attention on the book that’s in his hand, but it’s hard to when he thinks about you, completely bare just like you were a second ago, only this time you’re in front of him.
Maybe he should man up and knock on your door. Or maybe he should stop being so perverted and focus on his book.
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“Hey neighbor!” You wave excitedly at the man that’s unlocking the door to his home. Your voice makes him nervous, causing him to drop his key. You walk over to him with a smirk on your lips. You try to disguise it as a sweet smile when you’re in front of him, and Kento freezes in his spot when you’re right there. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.” He clears his throat before he speaks. His eyes look up and down your body, and they linger on the tight dress you wear. He looks straight at your cleavage, and his cheeks turn pink, picturing clearly how they look underneath your clothes. He’s seen you thousands of times walking around your room naked.
It’s surprising that this is the first time you approach him. Sure, you’ve talked but you’ve always had a reason to– Mail got mixed up, a package got delivered to the wrong house, you need a cup of sugar for baking; point is, there’s always something but today there doesn’t seem to be anything. At least not yet.
“Do you need something?” Kento asks, making your bottom lip stick out. He unlocks the door of his home and he opens it. He realizes how hostile his question sounds, and he assures you, “Not that I mind your presence but…”
“Just wanted to talk to you.” You respond. You take a couple of steps closer to him, and you bring your lips to his ear. You lower your voice and whisper, “Or am I out of line?”
“I– No, not at all.” Kento is caught off guard, and he tries his best to remain calm. You lightly bite down on your lip before you glance inside his house. “Do you want to come in?”
“If you insist.” You answer before walking inside the home. You want to walk straight to the bedroom since you know exactly where it is, but you decide that you want to chat first. You walk to the couch in the living room, taking note of how organized and clean the space is. Kento follows behind you, his eyes glued to your ass and thighs as you make yourself welcome in his home. “You have such a nice home.”
“Thank you.” He answers, watching as you take a seat on his couch and cross your legs. He stands in front of you, his arms crossing in front of him. “So… Do you have a conversation topic or–”
“I’m just surprised you haven’t made the move on me yet.” You interrupt him. “You’ve been watching me for a month straight, and yet you don’t even try to talk to me. You clearly like it since you keep watching.”
“Shouldn’t you be the one to make the first move? You’re the one that puts on the little show. Every single night.” He reminds you, making you click your tongue. He proceeds to take a seat beside you, his arms still crossed. His arms look so big and strong, and it takes everything in you to not stop the conversation and get on your knees. You need the man that sits beside you so fucking bad.
“I already do so much for you… You should have the common courtesy to at least thank me.” You tell him, your hand going to his bicep. He hums, raising his brow.
“Why did you come here? You want a thank you or…?” He asks, and you slowly nod your head in response. That’s when his hands go to your thighs, while his face inches closer to yours. He lowers his voice and he asks, “You don’t want a simple thank you, do you?”
“What do you think?” You smirk at him, and he chuckles before his lips land on yours. It’s the least the man can do after watching you every single night. Your tongue swipes his bottom lip before it enters his mouth and presses against his own. His hand goes under your dress, going to your panties. His finger hooks under the cloth and he begins to pull your panties down.
Kento pulls away from the kiss, kissing down your neck before he begins to suck on your skin. You help him pull down your panties, and within seconds they’re down by your ankles. The man reaches down to take the panties, stuffing them in his pocket. His fingers begin to run through your folds, and before he can do much you tell him, “You wanna do this here? Or in your bedroom?”
“Why?” He asks, pulling away. You stand up from the couch, grabbing his hand and leading him to the stairs of the home. 
“Just wanna see it.” You answer. You can easily guess where his bedroom is, and you’re assured when your eyes land on the armchair that you always find Kento sitting in. You stand still for a moment, deciding where you want to go next, and you feel Kento unzip the back of the dress. You laugh, “Aren’t you eager?”
“I just want to say my thanks.” Kento says as he takes the dress off you. Of course you aren’t wearing a bra, he noticed when you walked up to him but he didn’t want to baselessly assume. His hands go to your breasts, his fingers rolling and playing with your nipples. 
“You’re too kind.” You answer, your body leaning back so your head rests on his chest. One of his hands going down to your pussy. His ring and middle finger run through your folds before he begins to play with your clit. You look up at him, and he’s smirking as he looks down at you.
“Is this good enough? Or should I do more?” He asks, and you swear you’ve never been turned on more by a voice. He’s nearly driving you to your knees. You’re squeezing your thighs, and you’re biting down your lip as you look up at him. There’s so much desire in your needy eyes. “Aren’t you pathetic? Cat got your tongue?”
“I need more.” You answer, and he gets his fingers wet enough with your slick before he pushes his middle and ring finger inside your cunt. A soft moan leaves your lips as you feel his thick fingers fill you up. You’ve gotten a glance at them a couple of times, and you always had the thought of how they’d feel inside of you. Now that you feel them, you’re cursing yourself for not making a move sooner.
“Your pussy feels so nice.” He comments as he slowly moves his fingers in and out of you. You begin to moan as Kento’s thumb begins to toy with your clit. He’s making you feel so good, you’re nearly putty in his hands even though you haven’t been with him for long. “You sound just like I expected.”
“Fuck–” You mutter, shutting your eyes as pleasure slowly gets the better of you. You make the cutest face that your neighbor has ever seen as your orgasm approaches. You slowly start to get louder as pressure builds up in your lower abdomen. There’s a smug smirk on Kento’s lips before he does an evil action– He takes his fingers out of your pussy.
He brings his fingers up to his lips, and takes them into his mouth. He rolls his tongue around them to get a taste of you, and you taste just like he imagined. He hums. “You taste just how I expected too.”
“I thought you were going to thank me?” Your brows are furrowed as you look at him, irritated that he took your orgasm from you. His eyes look at the window, and your eyes follow lead. You’re confused as to what you’re supposed to be looking at, until you realize he’s looking into your room.
“You hate closing that curtain.” He comments, his hand putting pressure on your back so you begin to walk to the window. When you’re mere inches away, he pushes your back to the window, your hands landing on the spotless glass. “You really have no shame.”
“That’s why I’m here.” You respond as you hear him unzip his pants. You eagerly wait for his cock, and it feels like he’s taking his sweet time to undress– You have no idea why, all he has to do is take off his pants (matter of fact, he’s just unzipping, not even taking them off). You’re too impatient, that’s why. 
“I’m glad you are. Always putting on a little show for me. It makes my night better.” You feel the tip of his cock run through your folds. You shake your ass, wanting him to hurry up because you can’t wait any longer. He slaps your ass in return, causing a whine to leave your lips. You feel his breath on your ear before he whispers, “Be patient, I’m not running anywhere.”
“I need you so bad… Please.” You sound so fucking pathetic. He finally pushes his cock inside of you, and your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head as his cock stretches you out. He’s bigger than you expected, but you aren’t complaining.
The man hisses as he feels your warm cunt wrap around his cock. He shuts his eyes as he takes it all in. You feel better than what he thought, and fuck, it’s taking everything in him to not lose control. Shamelessly watching you as you walked around naked in your room was enough for him but after getting a taste of you, he doubts that just watching through the window will be enough.
He gives you a moment before he begins to move. His nails dig into your soft flesh as he tries to set a steady pace. He watches your ass move with each of his thrusts. His hand pulls on your hair before he presses your face on the window, making sure your makeup leaves a mark, “You get to see my view now– Minus the goddess that blesses me at night.”
His cock is hitting every right spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. He knows what the fuck he’s doing, and you hate the fact that you doubted that he did. Maybe you should’ve stopped the teasing and walked up to him earlier. 
The hand that holds on your hip goes under and begins to play with your clit, and you’re convinced that the man is set on driving you wild. But you’re also driving him insane by how your cunt squeezes around him. You’re thankful he lives alone because you can’t control how loud you are; although the window does help suppress your loudness. 
“What a tight little pussy. Even better than what I expected.” He praises. He works you up, and it doesn’t take too long for your orgasm to build up, especially after the one he ripped away from you. You begin to get tighter around his cock, and you hear as he groans in pleasure.
“Oh– Fuck–” The biggest smile forms on his face when you finally reach your climax– You feel as the liquid leaves your body, and you’re sure they’ve stained his pants. You could die of embarrassment mainly because you don’t see the excitement in his eyes. He’s only pissed off that you didn’t squirt while his face was buried between your legs. 
He has to have you again, simply for you to squirt while he’s eating you out. That thought makes him think that maybe he is the pervert that he claims he’s not. But he doesn’t give a shit when you’re so pretty and you feel so good wrapped around his cock.
His thrusts begin to get sloppy and he becomes louder. He wants to finish inside of you and fill you up with his seed– But he’s a gentleman… A perverted one, but regardless, a gentleman. He has to at least try to ask, “Inside or outside?”
“Inside.” It comes out muffled but he hears it, and when he finally reaches his release, his cum fills up your warm cunt.
He stays still for a moment before he finally pulls out his cock and puts it back into his briefs. He watches his cum drip out of your cunt, and he takes two fingers to push his seed back in. You take a moment to sit back on the bed that’s near you, staining his tan comforter with his cum. You feel embarrassed as you look at the makeup that’s on the window, and as you remember the fact that you squirt all over him.
“Sorry…” You mutter, and his brows furrow.
“What for?” You point at the pants. He chuckles. “You’re coming over again so you do that all over my face.”
It does take you by surprise.
“I have to start dinner soon, so you can either stay and join me, or leave.” He says, and it sounds like a tempting offer to stay and have dinner with him but you doubt you can wear that tight dress for too long. You wore it for him to take it off you. He watches as you ponder and reflect on your options. “Either way, I’m expecting to see you at nine.”
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wrayah · 4 months
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wriothesley x fem!reader
prompt: An overworked Writohesley finally accepts to get an assitant to help him around. Work begins to become smoother thanks to you, however you also make things harder for Wriothesley thanks to your innocent seductiveness. A small clothing mishap becomes the perfect moment for Writohesley to solve the throbbing problem in his pants.
notes: HERE IT IS THE (somewhat) SEX CRAZED WRIO I PROMISED YOU ALL !! can you guys tell i'm obsessed with this man ?? now please ask me for other characters i have no idea what to write now ( ;´ - `;)
word count: 3.4k
warnings: smut (mdni 🔞), dom!wrio, pet names, penetration, oral, no protection, ejaculation, curse words, handcuffs, overstimulation (kinda?)
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Wriothesley wasn't very fond of the idea of hiring an assistant, he could handle his work all by himself, he had been doing it for a while and could keep going that way. He simply couldn't comprehend why Sigewinne was so insistent, why she kept nagging him and telling him he should get help.
"'You really should consider it!" Sigewinne scolded Writohesley from her seat across from him, her tiny hands holding a cup of warm tea. "As the head and only nurse of the Fortress, it is my duty to take care of the people who work here, and that includes you!"
He chuckled at her puffed cheeks, she looked adorable when she was mad, and it was a challenge to take her seriously sometimes. He sipped his tea before looking at her, smiling.
"I'm okay, you don't need to worry. I don't need help-"
"Yes, you do! I can clearly see that you are extremely tired, and I have caught you working way past time lately!" She interrupted him, her tone stern but also caring. She looked at him in the eyes, dead serious. "How long has it been since you got a good night's sleep?"
His eyebags wouldn't let him lie his way out of this one, he couldn't actually remember the last time he went to bed and woke up feeling replenished. He frowned and looked down, having no answer to Sigewinne's question.
She scoffed at his reaction, closing her eyes and sipping her tea. She then placed her cup down, looked back up at him, and smiled. "Now that we've reached an agreement, I'll ask the guards to put up the flyers."
Writohesley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index. "Fine."
And that's how you got into the Fortress of Meropide as Wriothesley's assistant.
You had been working as the Duke's assistant for a few weeks now, helping him handle paperwork, running errands for him around the fortress, and on the surface, basically helping and doing everything and anything to make things a bit easier for him. It wasn't all that hard, a bit hectic but you actually enjoyed what you were doing.
Your presence had completely changed Wriothesley's routine, he was now able to finish his paperwork in time every day and got to sleep correctly again. Sigewinne had teased him continuously about how he was doing better now thanks to her idea, and he couldn't help but admit that she was right, he did need help.
On top of allowing him to get back on his feet and feel alive again, it was an actual pleasure to have you around. He was reluctant at the idea of an assistant at first, he got to know you however with time and was actually not disappointed. You were a smart and gentle individual, always ready to help and accomplish tasks with a smile on your face, even the tedious ones. Whenever you had free time, you would bring him tea along with some sweets, which he highly appreciated. This imposed a timeout on him, which wasn't actually so bad. He enjoyed chatting with you, whether it was about work or whatever else.
Everything was going well, except for one thing. Everything was great, everything you did was perfect. You were perfect.
Writohesley couldn't keep his eyes off of you at times. Generally, he thought you were beautiful, your smile melted his heart, the way your cheeks reddened whenever you stammered or were unsure softened him, and the way you dressed pleased him, especially when you wore somewhat revealing clothing- shit.
It was hard for him to keep focus on work at times because of you, but forced himself to stay put. He could handle the situation well, but it was challenging at times.
On hotter days, like today, you would wear skirts without tights, leaving your thighs exposed for Writohesley to admire. Your skin looked so soft, and the way they looked when you sat made him want to dig his fingers into them so badly.
He could handle admiring your form, it wasn't the first time he had seen a beautiful woman in his life, he just had to put in a little more effort to stay focused.
He did almost lose his mind at one point though.
He was reading a dossier, holding it with his right hand and toying with his handcuffs with the other, spinning them around. He looked up at you once he was done to give you a new order but he caught you looking intently at his handcuffs, a light blush on your cheeks. Once you noticed his gaze, your eyes darted to his and you lightly cleared your throat, cheeks brightening. Oh, the dirty things that must have been going through your mind.
Ever since then, those same dirty fantasies have invaded Writohesley's mind, making his work, as well as something else, harder. All he could think of was cuffing you up and manhandling you.
He shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. Focus, Wrio, you need to finish this by noon.
"Is everything alright, sir?" You enquired, sitting across from him also handling a report file.
He looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours. Your gaze was caring, worried, and so sweet.
He cleared his throat. "Yeah, um, could you get me some iced tea, please?" He needed something to soothe him as well as the growing heat in his pants.
"Of course!" You replied, a big smile on your face. You got up immediately and turned to make your way out of his office. You accidentally bumped some files on his desk in the process though, papers falling to the ground before you.
"I'm so, so sorry! I'll-I'll gather everything!" You stammered, bending down to pick up every loose paper and file, unintentionally flashing Writohesley while doing so.
He could see everything, the back of your exposed upper thighs, your beautifully shaped ass, your laced panties-covered crotch. Oh Archons, how could he keep his composure before such a sight?
Wriothesley cleared his throat again, this time to grab your attention. You squeaked, stood up, and spun around quickly, a messy pile of papers in hand. You were expecting to be scolded for your idiocy. You gulped as you looked into his darkening eyes, his face was deadly serious. You were done for.
"Don't think that what you just did is, let's say, inappropriate?" He questioned, a slight smirk emerging. Your terrified expression turned into a confused one, which he chuckled at. You weren't even aware of what you were doing to him, how cute.
"Your skirt is quite short you know, you should have kneeled down instead." Your eyes widened, realising what had just happened. You frowned and looked down, face becoming as red as a tomato. You placed your hands behind you, covering your behind with the papers.
"I-I'm sorry! I-... I didn't intend to give such a view..." You were so embarrassed you were barely able to pronounce the last part. You sighed ashamed. You wanted to dive into the deepest parts of the sea and stay there.
Toying with you was fun. "You know, it's not the first time your clothes have bothered me. To be fair, you sometimes dress quite inappropriately for work." He took out his handcuffs and began playing with them like last time, catching your attention once again. He grinned, canines showing. "Don't you think that, as your boss, I should reprimand you?"
You bit your lip, intrusive thoughts clouding your mind. That didn't go unnoticed, it only made his smirk grow wider.
"Go on, finish cleaning your mess up." He instructed, eyeing the rest of the papers on the floor. You did as told, kneeling down this time.
He got up from his chair as you placed the paper mountain on his desk. You watched carefully as he came up behind you, you didn't dare to turn around though.
"Hands behind your back."
"H-huh?" You turned your head to look at him, his frame hovering over yours, eyeing you down.
He cocked his eyebrow. "Want me to repeat? Hands behind your back." His voice was stern, he was doing his best to hide his lust.
You did as told, and soon enough you felt the cold feeling of metal around your wrists. He had handcuffed you. You choked a little on your breath, not expecting this to happen. Your darkest fantasies were coming to life, but you couldn't let your mind get the best of you, you were already embarrassed enough.
"You see, being naughty like that isn't very nice, you've been making things hard for me lately." He placed your hands on his clothed dick as he spoke, rubbing against them. Your breathing was shaky, and his pants felt so tight against him, that you couldn't help but imagine what he was hiding underneath.
"Since you're to help me, I thought you could also help me with this." He pressed his dick against your hands once more, letting out a shaky grunt. "Will ya?"
You nodded timidly, still not believing what was happening. "Good. Come on now."
He leads you back towards his desk as if he were leading a prisoner. Being treated this way was making you feel hot and bothered, but you loved it. He put his hands on your shoulders and with slight pressure instructed you to kneel down before his chair, which he would sit on soon after. He began undoing his belt, his pants coming soon after, all the while being attentively observed by you. He chuckled as he saw your big eyes look at his shielded cock, mouth agape with impatience. He finally slid his bottoms down a little, revealing his girthy dick to you, tip slightly swollen and shimmering with precum. You bit your lip at the sight, mouth-watering. He was so close, it was so close.
His hand came to caress your cheek tenderly. "Open your mouth for me, baby. Tongue out."
You opened up, tongue sliding out. You looked up at him, waiting for his next command. His hand travelled up to your hair, grabbing a handful lightly, before tugging your head down towards his dick.
As your tongue finally met his throbbing tip, you flicked it against it, tasting him. Salty but tasty. You began licking his tip, tongue swirling around it, pressing against his slit, doing all you can to take in all of that sweet precum. Wriothesley moaned lowly above you, hand caressing your hair now, encouraging you, praising you.
"Come on, don't be shy, take me in." Your mouth wraps around his wet tip, making its way down slowly. He was thick, but there was so much saliva that you were easily able to swallow him whole on the first way down, making him curse under his breath. You began slowly bobbing your head up and down, tongue against the underside of his dick.
"That's good baby, keep going." It felt so good he couldn't help but let his head fall back, breathy moans and curses leaving his lips as he tugged on your hair, instructing you to pick up the pace. You were doing your very best to go fast, but he was so big and your mouth so small that your cheeks began to hurt and so your pace began to falter.
He looked back down at you with glazy eyes, only to be met with lustful eyes looking back up at him, your mouth around his dick, drool dripping down from it. Fuck. The sight made something snap inside of him, it made him feral.
He got up from his chair, standing up before you, making sure your mouth never left his dick. You let out surprised noises around his cock, making him groan from the vibrations. He placed both his hands on your hair, gripping it hard enough to keep your head still and thrust into your mouth. You moaned around him with each thrust, both from pleasure and from slight pain, but mostly from pleasure.
"Look at me, baby." His husky voice sent electric shocks all day down to your core, making your thighs squeeze together. You looked up at him, the mere sight of his expression being almost enough to make you cream.
You look at him, tears in the corners of your eyes, cheeks red, drool all over, was enough to send him over the edge. He buried himself deep within your mouth and, with a loud groan, his cum sprung out onto your throat and into your mouth.
"Fuck." He panted, thrusting slowly to get every single last drop of his cum out before sliding out.
He grinned as he saw your puffed-out cheeks, your mouth filled with cum. He put his hand on your chin, grabbing it gently. "Swallow. All of it."
Your eyes widened at the command yet you swallowed the thick liquid without hesitation, small tears coming up from how weird it felt when it slid down your throat. He grinned and patted your head. "Good girl."
He picked you up from the floor with ease, making you gasp. He placed you down, feet on the floor, facing his desk, your legs against it. Your hands were still bound behind you, and your wrists started to ache a bit. He pressed up against your back, hands grabbing at your hips as he nuzzled your neck, taking in your fragrance. You tilted your head to the side, giving him enough room to pamper your neck with kisses. He licked long slow strips along your veins. You moaned, your core growing warmer with every passing second.
You felt something hard poke your hands, he was still hard. Mustering up some courage, you grabbed his cock with both your hands, it fits perfectly between them. You started pumping it, long slow, and sloppy strokes. He groaned against your neck, biting down hard. You both moaned and groaned, you from his sucking and biting on your neck, him from you pumping his dick.
He suddenly pulled his hips away, freeing his length from your heavenly grip. One of his hands went to your back, pushing your upper body downward against the table. "Stay there."
"Yes, sir." You whispered, body engulfed in pleasure.
He bent down, face in front of your clothed crotch. He pressed his nose against your wet panties. Oh, you smelled intoxicating. He pulled your panties and skirt down, the cold air of the room hitting your hot pussy suddenly, making you shiver.
Writohesley licked his lips as he admired you in all of your glory, folds glistening from how excited you were. He leaned forward, placing both his hands on your thighs, and lay his tongue flat on your pussy, licking slowly up.
"Mh, you taste so fucking good." He groaned against your folds, suckling on your sensitive bud. You were becoming a mess, unable to control the sounds leaving your body as he lapped at your wet pussy. You almost screamed when his teeth grazed your clit.
He suddenly got up, spanking you with one hand as he did. "Quiet down, will ya. Do you want everyone in the Fortress to know you were being bad? Do you want everyone to know that your boss is punishing you?"
You shook your head no frantically, going to bite your lower lip in order to keep quiet, but he placed one of his hands on your mouth all the way from behind. With his other hand, he pumped his length a few times before lining it up to your entrance, his tip getting wet as he pressed against you. He pushed inside you, not letting a single second go to waste. He needed you. Your moan was muffled by his strong hand, eyes rolling back. He was filling you up so well, touching your cervix with his tip with the first push. His other hand was on the handcuffs, holding them tight to keep you in place. He pulled almost all the way out, only leaving his head inside, and then snapped his hips forward, pushing back in violently.
“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” He whispered into your ear. Your little screams were silenced by his hand, he repeated the same movement over and over again, until you could barely hold yourself up, your legs trembling. His low grunts and your muffled sounds filled the room along with the wet obscene sounds your cunt was making with each thrust.
His grip on your mouth and chains suddenly tightened, his pace picking up. He was practically fucking you into his desk right now, each thrust more powerful than the last. You were barely keeping yourself together, drooling into his hand, eyes barely open, cheeks flushed; you were a mess beneath him, and he loved seeing you like this. With each thrust, he stroke all the good spots, making you come undone rapidly. The feeling of your cunt clamping down on him drove him crazy, he wanted more of it, more, more. 
“Look at your tiny cunt, hugging my dick so tightly. Are you coming for me, princess?” You could only moan and groan in response, making him chuckle at your condition. He kept going, his pace never slowing down, milking your pussy of its juices. 
After the second wave of full blown pleasure washed over you, your legs began to wobble, you couldn’t keep yourself up anymore and your knees started to bend. He didn’t let you fall though, he quickly let go of your face and hands and held you up by the hips effortlessly.
“We aren’t done yet babygirl.” The side of your face rested on the desk, your mouth agape, raspy, breathy moans leaving your mouth. Your throat was dry from all the screaming, you surely wouldn’t be able to talk properly afterwards. He pounded into you rapidly, his rhythm becoming sloppier with each passing moment, he was getting close too. For someone who had instructed you to be quiet, he sure was being loud now, but neither of you cared. 
“So good, so fucking good for me.” He groaned, leaning forward, placing his forehead on your shoulder. His rapid breathing on your back sent shivers down your spine. You felt another orgasm building up, and you knew Wriothesley was close too. 
“Wrio- I’m going to…” You could barely speak, every word you uttered being followed by loud gasps.
“I know, baby, I know. Just wait a little.” He hushed you, gripping your hips with so much strength his knuckles were turning white. After a few more pushes, he was losing it, groaning loudly on your shoulder. “Come for me, y/n. Come!”
You moaned loudly, your third climax hitting you like a truck. Your walls clenched his member, that was the last straw for him. He bit down on your shoulder, moaning as he did so. His cock pushed deep inside you and stopped there. His cum came spurting out into you, the warm and thick liquid filling you up, some even dripping out of you and onto the floor. 
After a short while, his teeth finally let go of your flesh and he pulled out slowly, more cum dripping onto the floor as he did so. You opened your eyes as best as you could and looked back hazeley only to find a flushed and panting Wriothesley trying to catch his breath, still holding you up.
He then picked you up and sat you down on the desk, taking a set on his chair afterwards. You both sighed of relief, finally relaxing a bit after that experience.
He looked at you and smiled kindly, then looked at the mark on your shoulder and his smile turned upside down. “Sorry about that.”
You put your hand on your shoulder, massaging it to soothe the stinging pain. “It’s okay, it isn’t too bad.” Your smile made his worries die out. 
You started to feel a bit chilly, after all your bottoms were still on the floor. Before moving to dress yourself, a question came to your mind. You looked him in the eyes. “So, should I stop dressing the way I do from now on?”
Writohesley smirks, his head resting on his fist. “I won’t forbid you from dressing the way you want, but you must assume the consequences that will come with it.” 
At first, you blush, knowing well what he was referring to, but then you return the smile, answering with a confident tone. 
“Oh don’t worry, I will.”
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© wrayah, 2024
1K notes · View notes
velvetydream · 4 months
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꒰ :🥀 [ Hells greatest Demon ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
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Summary : You've had quite a rough day, so Alastor tries his best to cheer you up with some food and a broadcast.
Pairing : Alastor x Reader
Word count : 1305
Genre : Sweet Fluff
Warnings ➵ Hinting of cannibalism (Alastor)
a/n : Very self-indulged bcs Alastor is my comfort chara rn and I'm currently having a rather hard time.. Also I'm very very new to Hazbin Hotel, so I'm so sorry if smth doesn't match up or seems out of character! Decided to write this simply for comfort!♡
┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡
It was another hellish day, like always work was keeping you on your toes, Charlie had yet another plan and of course activity everyone at the hotel had to join in. Niffty was keeping you busy more than any other day, it was slowly getting to you. On top of that, your ex had to show up at your workplace today.
So with all this happening, you decided to get a bit of peace with a tea in the kitchen, but your mind was running a race, ending in simply resting your head on the kitchen table and closing your eyes for a second, trying to tune out Angels and Husks banter at the bar.
"Greetings my dear!" A cheerful, yet accompanied by a radio static sound, voice sounded behind you, you wanted to groan but swallowed it down again. It's not like you despised Alastor, quite the opposite, he was rather lovely and nice to you, shocking. But he sometimes loves to play into someone's despair and you're no exception. "Oh darling, you look rather doomed, haha, why don't you smile, you know you're never fully dressed without one!" Alastor walked past you, shrugging off his coat and laying it onto the back of one of the chairs, his sleeves being pushed up by his hands now. "I'm not really in the mood for smiling right now.." He took a quick glance at you, which you didn't notice of course, before he turned around again to the stove. His staff was now leaning against the kitchen cupboard, soft jazz music was now playing, which was calming you down a bit more.
"Mind sharing your thoughts darling? You look rather lost in them." It was weird for Alastor to care for others problems, yet he asked you, still his back turned to you, your eyes open yet again, following his movements. Getting ready to cook, probably his favorite, Jambalaya. "It's just been a really hard day, Niffty almost got me killed, my boss just dumped a week's extra load onto me which I shall finish in three days, and then on top of this all my stupid fucker of an ex decided to show up at my work." At the last words, just slightly, barely noticeable, the red-haired demon tensed up a bit. "That does seem like a rough day my dear, how about I make you some nice new tea and when I finish cooking you'll get the first plate." Turning to you now, his signature smile was planted on his face, you doubt you ever saw him without one, it can be unsettling at times, but mostly it was fine. Alastor grabbed your teacup, and set up a cattle with fresh water, as he scooped some tea into your cup, all the while starting to prepare to cook. It was calming, he was calming. Despite hearing the others all around the hotel, the jazz music, and the soft sounds of Alastor cooking, you could swear you also heard him hum softly to the music but you didn't dare mention it to him, were drowning everything out.
A hot steaming cup was swiftly set in front of you, the tea a different one now than you had before, but it still gave of a soothing and calming smell. With a thank you, you took a sip of the porcelain cup.
It was quiet in the kitchen for the time being, only the soft music and Alastors cooking, you two were merely enjoying the presence of the other, it was calming your mind and you finally felt your shoulders relaxing. Soon a plate was placed in front of you, it was Jambalaya, which you already ate countless times since staying at the hotel, Alastor loved to make it often. He himself now sitting down beside you at the table with a plate of his own, coat still on the chair, sleeves still pushed to his elbows.
"Thanks!" Thanking him for the plate, you immediately dig in, the taste was amazing like always, Alastor truly is a master at cooking. Soon the others joined in the kitchen, the kitchen was now booming with voices and laughter, but this time it didn't bother you, it was nice to eat all together. Laughing at some joke Angel just made, before talking with Charlie about some idea how to get new guests for the hotel. All the while the eyes of a certain demon were on you.
After the good meal, everyone together started cleaning their dishes, Nifty almost threw her fork at an insect on the floor, but Husker took the fork away before she could accidentally harm someone. In the end, it was just you and Alastor left, as you put away all the clean plates now, Alastor putting his coat back on, as he took his microphone staff.
"So how are you feeling dear? Better now?" Jumping a little bit at how close his voice suddenly was, turning your head just slightly, noticing how Alastor was now standing behind you and leaning over your shoulder. "Y-Yes! Thanks a lot again!" Stepping away from him, he simply watched you with his usual smile. "Splendid! How about you join me for my broadcast?" Eyes going wide now at his offer, he never allowed anyone to join him when he goes on air, hell, if someone were to disturb him they shall never be seen again. So to say you were stunned was an understatement.
"I would love to but.. are you sure?" You often listened to his broadcast when you had time, or sometimes put it on when you go to sleep, but to listen to him live? That would be amazing. "Well of course my dear, if I wasn't sure I wouldn't have offered! Well then! Let's get going!" A big smile was now stretched on his face, as he was leaving the kitchen in tow with you.
Arriving at his radio tower, which you never saw from the inside before, so you're actually a bit hyped to join him. Holding the door open for you like the gentleman he is, you enter and immediately start looking around. Walking over to the big windows, you could see the city below, from up here it looked so small, it was amazing. "Well my dear, do take a seat wherever you like, we're soon going on air." Looking back at Alastor with a smile now as you nod, taking a seat on the couch on the wall. Overall the room wasn't that big, his room, which you saw before a few times, was definitely bigger than this. Leaning against the wall a bit, you wait for Alastor to start his broadcast.
"Salutation hell, good to be back on the air today..." You were listening closely, he was playing some soft music in the background while talking. Slowly the exhaustion from today was creeping on you more with every minute that passed. And before you knew it, your consciousness slipped away intdreamlandnd.
Alastor kept the broadcast going, ending it after a good one or two hours, looking over at you, his dear darling. A smile wide on his face, as he puts everything he used away to his original place. Slow steps were made over to you, as he was shrugging his coat off and laying it over your body carefully. "Sleep well darling, hope you liked my broadcast." A strand was pushed behind your ear, that fell in front of your face.
Turning to the door now, the soft smile he wore for you, slowly turned into a sinister smile. "Now to that ex of yours.." Leaving the room, he closes the door behind him, and let's just say, he had a nice midnight snack this time and your ex to your surprise never showed up at your workplace again.
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casualhedonists · 6 months
Text
✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter four)
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pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader
warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, roughhousing, overstimulation, insane amounts of teasing, some mild dubcon scenes/allusions to dubcon, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)
chapter: 4/?
SERIES MASTERLIST
words: 6.3k (🫠)
i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.
a/n: thank you for your patience while i got my shit together (christmas edition). enjoy, this filth seems to get longer with each chapter. i’ll be gone for a few weeks over the holidays, so no chapter updates for a bit, but have no doubt i’ll be back for more in the new year &lt;;33
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Coriolanus Snow was not a patient man. He’d played the long game enough times in his climb to the top of Panem to know that once he got up there, he wouldn’t be sitting on the sidelines anymore, waiting for life to happen to him. He would take what he wanted from whoever he wanted, with no delay.
Who were you to tell him what he could and couldn’t have? Who were you to deny him, walking away like you’d won, like you’d just played him like a fiddle and left him out in the dust? He replayed your self-satisfied smile as you disappeared from his view and he stood there, considering his options. The most tempting would be to follow you back to your room, to shove you up against a wall, to tear off his jacket and watch that smug look melt right off your face.
The second would’ve been to send for the whore, but it would’ve been a cheap thrill and besides, you’d made a point of getting rid of her.
He’d almost had you, he could see it. Could see the quiver in your lip as your blown-out eyes had rolled open, before you’d climbed off his lap. He was certain that if he chipped away at enough of your resolve, you’d give in. The thought of having to work for this incensed him, who were you to make demands from the President himself?
But the calculating part of his brain decided, with disdain, that he would have to be patient for once. He doubted you could go very long before giving into him; he’d seen it in your eyes, it had taken everything in you to leave him that night.
You wanted to go on a power trip? Fine. Snow knew it would be short lived, and you were making enough of a spectacle of yourself that it should prove entertaining to him. He decided he was going to let you have your fun, brief and fleeting as it may be. He always did enjoy a chase, and he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.
You wanted to play? Fine.
He closed his door, leaving it unlocked.
Let the games begin.
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Breakfast was a sweet kind of torture. You’d wrapped a short, silk dressing gown around your underwear set from the night before, confident after your first good night’s sleep in weeks. Headed downstairs early, so you could be there when he walked in.
“Morning, sweetie.” You smiled as you sipped at a cup of coffee.
Snow’s eyes narrowed. He sat opposite you without a word, pouring himself a cup and buttering a piece of toast. His morning paper was neatly folded on the side, and you eyed it quickly, before taking him in.
It was subtle – something probably only you could pick up on, knowing what you did – but it was there, in the slight crinkle of his usually perfect shirt, in the way he took coffee instead of tea, in the way he focused carefully on spreading the butter to every edge of his slice of toast. You glanced down again, a mischievous sense of pride filling you up.
You’d gotten under his skin.
Finally.
“Well,” you cleared your throat, “I don’t know about you, but I slept like a log. You?”
His eyes met yours heatedly, but he didn’t reply. One of his footmen stood posted by the door, eyes straight ahead.
“No?” You faked pity. “You look a little tired, Coriolanus. Rough night?”
Nothing. He didn’t respond to your taunts, but instead took his paper, unfolding it, and you watched intently with a glint in your eye as you saw him react to something slipping out of the pages and into his lap.
He let out a surprised scoff, lowered the paper, and looked straight at you. Your eyebrows raised in response.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, with a lilt in your voice.
When he finally spoke, his voice was steady.
“Leave us, please.” He said to the footman, without breaking off his stare once. The footman obliged, closing the door behind him. His eyes bored into you with a similar intensity as they had the night before.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He asked, but it was flat like a statement.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You batted your eyes, feigning innocence.
He lifted his hand from his lap, holding up the pair of white lace panties you’d tucked between the folds of his newspaper. Raised his eyebrows in a question.
“Oh,” you smiled. “Whoops. I’d been wondering where I left those.”
His stare remained unfaltering, and you rubbed your legs together.
“Very cute, sweetheart.”
You smirked.
“You think so? Just something to remember me by. Lucille said you’ll be gone until tomorrow for work, I wouldn’t want you forgetting about last night.”
His eyes darkened, never leaving yours as you stood, making your way down the table.
“It’s a shame, really. I feel a little guilty about what I did. I got you all worked up for nothing.”
He scoffed, watching as you got closer.
“Yeah, you seem all torn up about it.”
You hummed, reaching him, and nodded at his lap, where his hand gripped the white lace.
“May I?”
“Be my guest.” He said tightly.
You straddled his lap again, and he looked up at you. You felt another surge of that power, standing over him with very little between you, as you ran your palms over his jacket, smoothing it out, then plucking the white rose from his breast pocket, and tucking your panties inside. As you pushed the rose back in, you smiled, satisfied.
“I should be more careful about misplacing things,” you mused, “Could’ve sworn I threw those in the laundry. You want to know something funny?”
“What?” Snow watched your hand pull away, and you met his gaze again.
“I’m not even sure I’m wearing a pair right now.”
It happened so quickly, it knocked the breath out of you. One second, you were balanced with your legs either side of his, and the next, you were pushed back onto the table as he stood, grabbing your waist, and leaning over you. A plate shattered on the floor, but Coriolanus didn’t flinch.
You squirmed but he gripped your hips harder, sliding one hand up to support your back and stop you from toppling straight onto the table. The cold wood pressed into your bare legs, and a glass dug into your back. You realised with a shaky breath that your dressing gown had fallen open. He was stood flush between your legs, pinning you down.  
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He snapped.
“I told you, didn’t I?” A hum as his hips rolled into yours. “Whatever I want.”
“I could force your hand, you know.” He commented. “Right now.”
“You think I wouldn’t want you to?”
His face was unreadable. His head dipped towards yours, and when he spoke it brushed against your lips.  
“You really are a whore.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I know you’re all bark and no bite. You want to know why I know that, Snow?”
He huffed.
“Why?”
“Because I think you like chasing me.” Your eyes lowered to your legs, pressed apart by his hips. Your ankles wrapped around his lower back and pressed him in further. His jaw clenched.
He followed your gaze, and you felt his breath hitch when he saw that you weren’t lying, there was nothing between the two of you except his pants.  
“Fuck.” He whispered.
It did something to you, hearing him so desperate. You pulled him in again with your heels, and he looked back at you. He rocked his hips, velvet cloth rubbing against your bare cunt, and you gasped at the feeling, still sore from last night.
Any time now.
“You want to fuck me, Snow?” You whispered. “Do it. Right now, I won’t stop you.”
His breaths were heavy as he rocked his hips again, firm, and it was obscene, really, how you could feel the outline of his cock pushing against you through the thick material, and his breath was getting laboured.
Almost there.
“Knew you’d give in.” His voice was rough as he pressed in harder, and you whimpered, eyes fluttering shut, “So fucking desperate. Didn’t expect you to open your legs this soon, though. Thought you’d rile me up for a few days first. But look at you,” he rambled, “giving up so easily. Where’s all that fight now, sweetheart?”
A loud rap sounded at the door.
There it is.
You couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across your face as he stopped still.
“Oh,” you blinked innocently at him, “I wonder who that could be.”
“President Snow? We’re ready for you, sir.” The footman’s voice was muffled through the door.
“Well, would you look at the time? I guess duty calls, Mr President.”
He scowled, shooting ice cold daggers at you.
“You bitch. You knew.”
“And you fell for it.” You smirked, digging your heels into his back again. “Who’s desperate now?”
He scoffed, meeting your eye again.
“You think you’re so smart, little girl. You really think I’d mind if they walked in on me fucking you into the table?”
“I know you’re not against having an audience, Snow. But what are you gonna do, hang the health minister if he walks in? I know you’re not above it, but it’d be a slight inconvenience. Surely there are wiser ways to spend your precious time.”
“Yeah? Try me.”
His nails dug into your back as he pulled you in closer. For just a second, you had a doubt. But not long enough.
“I’m calling your bluff, Coriolanus Snow.”
He shook his head. Peeled himself off you with a huff, and tried to smooth out his shirt, glaring at you the whole time.
“I’ll be right out.” He called.
You slid off the table and stood, tying your gown, then reaching to fiddle with his collar. He batted your hand away.
“Let me.” You reached out again.
“Fine.”
Your hands smoothed over the material, straightening it out, then once you were satisfied, they rested on his chest for a beat.
“You look handsome.” You confessed quietly, not meeting his eye as you spoke. You could feel his stare burning into you as you did. When you finally looked, his expression had shifted to something unreadable again. Confusion, perhaps. It was times like these when you wished you could read his mind.
The moment finally passed and you cleared your throat, trailing a hand over his breast pocket, a physical reminder of the game you were intent on winning.
“This was fun.” You declared with a smile, putting the mask back on. “Hurry back. What time shall I expect you?”
“No later than noon.” He watched as you stepped away.
“I look forward to it,” you smiled, playing with the string of your gown, “sweetheart.”
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With Snow out of the house, you jumped at the chance to head straight upstairs, making a beeline for his room. Something inside you just knew the door would be unlocked, that he wouldn’t be able to resist. You were right.
At last, you were able to take a good look around the room, touring it as if it was some art museum. And it wasn’t far from it; with wood panelled walls and strong beams on the ceiling, plush velvet throw pillows and bedsheets, with crisp white linen tucked underneath. You wandered around for a while, brushing your fingers over the sides, taking it all in. It was perfectly neat, almost jarringly so. You wondered if he always kept it like this, or if it was for your benefit. Since he’d probably guessed you’d be going inside, you took little guilt in peeking into a few drawers, and flipping through the pages of the book on his nightstand.
Your curiosity then took you into the bathroom, where, after scanning the shelves, you decided to undress and take a shower, steam and the smell of his soap filling the large room. You took the opportunity to slide your hands between your legs and replay the morning’s events, filling in what you’d have had liked to have happen instead of him leaving. When you were finished, you wrapped yourself in a soft towel, and walked out, spotting a glass bottle of cologne on the edge of the sink. With a smile, you gently sprayed a little on your wrist, breathing it in, sighing deeply as the smell of him went to your head.
You got dressed again, thumbing through his closet, basking in the buzz you had from being in his space. You sat on his bed, taking his room in from a new perspective. When you were satisfied, you headed back to your own with a smile, only coming back that evening with a handful of your things, before falling into a peaceful sleep under his sheets.
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A few days passed after that morning, and you barely saw Snow. He’d come back, but gone straight to his office, where he proceeded to spend long hours on the phone, stuck on some important business you had no business nosing about.
So, you waited, your games paused and painfully anticlimactic. You hated feeling like a helpless housewife, but this was apparently what you’d been reduced to. You saw your friends some of the evenings, and your family on others. Then you’d come home to hover outside Snow’s locked study to listen to the sounds of pen on paper, peppered with the occasional sigh. You would have waited for him to come out, but you gave up as the hours drawing longer. He stayed holed up in his office, night after night, and by the time he’d finished the evening’s work, sleep had long carried you away.
It hadn’t all been dull; you’d fallen into a habit of sneaking pairs of your underwear in with the clean laundry that was carried up to his room, and that had earned you a little attention, but it was merely in passing. A few heated glances at the dinner table, a brush past each other in the hallway. You’d go so far as to say it was almost like flirting, only laced with the undertones of something far heavier. It wasn’t enough for you now that you’d tasted what you could have if only you reached for it, and you started to go a little stir crazy again.
One of these nights, you’d slipped into his empty room after dark, and lay in his bed, trying to stay awake as long as you could, but sleep caught up to you and by morning, you woke alone, wrapped in soft sheets, no sign of Snow except for a slightly warm dent on his side of the bed that had long been abandoned.
You got nothing. Not a touch, not an argument, not a kiss. For a week and a half, until he was called away again. Your annoyance had started to creep back up on you tenfold by then, and you were practically crawling out of your skin.
You saw your family for dinner more and more, making a habit out of filling the empty space he'd left with small talk and laughter. It was on one such night, when you'd been silently mulling over what move to make next, that your mother mentioned a name you hadn't heard in years, and you knew right away what to do. You were done hiding away, you wanted to make yourself known. Make every second Snow spent in your presence a living hell, and a reminder of what you’d denied him. You'd hoped for something outrageous, something that would push him to the very edge. And if this didn't work, nothing would.
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Nathaniel Greene was an old flame of yours. He’d always been good to you, warm and well-meaning; and he was handsome, in a gentle, boyish way. When your mother mentioned him, a beautifully cruel idea struck you. You weren’t naturally as cold-hearted as Coriolanus, but as the weeks had gone by, you’d begun to believe that maybe, in order to win this, you needed to be. Nathaniel would be perfect; the two of you had been school friends, you had history, something Snow couldn’t compete with, and you knew that would drive him insane. He was all soft edges, smiles, and pleasantries, everything that Snow wasn’t.
You felt a sliver of guilt as you began putting your plan together, but you reasoned that you and Snow had bruised each other, and low blows were what it would take for you to press into his the hardest. This was always never going to be simple; it was a messy game, and you needed to get your hands dirty.
Besides, he’d paraded a whore around the house for you to watch him fucking for weeks on end. It was fair game, you reminded yourself. So with that decided, you rose to the occasion, and the plan was set into motion.
That was how it came to be that on the day Snow returned, he walked in to find a guest sat in his living room. You were all false smiles and batted eyelashes when you saw him.
“Coriolanus, you’re back. I’d like you to meet Nathaniel, he and I used to be friends at school.”
Nathaniel rose from his seat on the sofa, and leaned toward Snow to shake his hand.
“Mr President, sir, it’s an absolute honor to be in your company. You have a lovely house.”
Nathaniel missed the slight tick in Snow’s jaw, but you didn’t. He offered his hand in response.
“The pleasure’s mine. Any… friend of my girl is always welcome here.”
My girl. The words went straight to your head, and Coriolanus pulled you in for a kiss that lingered half a second longer than usual, like he knew.
“Would you like some tea, sweetheart?” You asked, “Nathaniel and I were just catching up.”
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“I remember that summer.” You laughed. “Your aunt took us to the coast, and we swam in the ocean at least twice a day. It was so cold one morning, your cousin’s lips turned blue. And on the way home, we had to stop at that inn, do you remember it?”
“With the owner and his crazy beard.”
“The crazy beard owner!” you exclaimed. “And the room you and I stayed in was so laughably small, the bed touched three of the walls all at once. Cozy, though.”
Nathaniel glanced awkwardly between the two of you, clearing his throat.
“Yeah, those were, uh… good times.”
Fire ran rampant through Snow’s eyes. You didn’t look directly at him, but your peripherals gave you plenty of satisfaction.
He was enraged. Good. You’d been mercilessly torturing him for the better part of an hour.
“Oh, Nathaniel, that reminds me, I’ll go get the book I was telling you about earlier.”
“Book?” He frowned, “I don’t-”
“You know the one! I’ll be right back.” You interrupted, then practically bounced out of your seat and walked toward the library. At the far end of the large room, you paused, pretending earnestly to scan the spines for a particular title.
You were quiet, making sure you could hear the echo of Snow excusing himself, followed by steady footsteps approaching you from behind.
“Something wrong?” You asked, keeping your back turned.
He grabbed your waist and spun you around. Backed you up until you were pressed to the wall, wooden shelves digging into your spine.
“Give me one good reason,” he spat, “why I shouldn’t kill that boy right now.”
You blinked.
“What’s wrong, Snow? Can’t take a little jealousy? Surprising, given your recent choice of company.”
“So that’s it? All this to get a rise out of me? You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.” he scoffed.
You smiled, meeting his eye.
“Oh, but maybe I should. See, Coriolanus, here’s the thing.” you leaned towards him, running a finger down the front of his dress shirt, catching over each shining button as it glided down. “I haven’t decided if I should fuck him, yet. What do you think I should do?”
“I think,” he snarled, grabbing your wrists and pressing them against the wooden shelves, then dropping his voice down to a whisper, his breath mixing with yours, “that I should fuck you right here while he listens in the next room, and show him who you really belong to.”
You faltered, if only for a few moments. Your pride wavering as you heard the want drip from his voice, still getting used to his eyes skating across your skin the way you’d hoped and prayed they would for months. If you wanted it, you could take it right now, and you almost folded. He moved in ever closer, and your head dropped against the bookshelf, letting his lips graze your neck, blonde curls dusting your shoulder. You stayed there, suspended, letting it roll over you like water.
“What would your little friend in there think, if he could hear how much of a whore you really are? I wouldn’t even let you cover your mouth. I’d just hike up your slutty little dress and send you back out there with cum dripping down your thighs. How do you think he’d like you then?”
Your breath hitched, and you squeezed your eyes closed, pressing your legs together. Tried to rationalise the logic of throwing your plans to the wind and letting him stake his claim on you.
You considered it. Briefly.
But you were already in so deep, you had to see this through. Snow had fucked with you, then left you out to dry, and you had to make sure he would never do it again. So no, you wouldn’t be the one to fold. He would, on your terms. And now wasn’t the time, not yet.
So you collected yourself. Pulled away, batting your pretty eyes at him.
“Oh, but I’m having so much fun.”
“Don’t test me. You’ve proved your point.” he seethed, stepping closer, and one more inch and you might burst-
“Nathaniel’s waiting. I’ll see you at dinner, Coriolanus.”
With that, you slipped away, silently catching your breath.
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You’d just finished dinner alone, no Snow in sight, and you were walking back towards the hallway when the doors swung open.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your hands were above your head as Snow pushed you into the dining room wall. This was starting to become a habit. A sly smile pulled at your lips.
“Stings, doesn’t it? Getting a taste of your own medicine.”
He got in close, rage burning hot in his eyes.
“What you did was different, and you know that."
"I don't know, Coriolanus, was it? I've just been so bored, lately. Idle hands, I suppose."
If looks could kill, you'd be a goner.
"That's your excuse? At least I had the decency to fuck a stranger. Tell me you didn’t-”
You laughed.
“You really think I’d do anything without making sure you watched? God, Snow, you don’t know me at all.”
He moved in closer.
“If you ever do that again, if you so much as look his way, I’ll have him whipped in the middle of the city. Or maybe I won’t bother. I’ll just have him hung, and I’ll make sure you’re there at the front of the crowd to watch him drop, knowing his blood is on your hands. Do you understand me?”
You set your jaw. Shrugged.
“Okay.”
He frowned. You took pride in the way you could see it, him trying desperately to figure you out.
“Okay?” He repeated.
“You heard me. You think I really care enough about him, that I’d invite him into the house just to make you jealous, then expect him to end up alive? How stupid do you think I am?”
You did care about Nathaniel, at least enough to not want him dead, but Snow couldn’t know that. Not for this to work.
“You’re bluffing.” But you could hear in his voice that he wasn’t sure.
“Am I? Your threats don’t phase me, Coriolanus. Do your worst, I don’t care anymore. What, did you think I’d try to talk you out of it? You think I’d beg?”
His bewilderment caused him to drop your wrists, and you took the chance to push yourself away from the wall.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But I won’t fold. I meant what I said that night. You want me to be yours, you want to own me? You have to earn it. My way. You’re not going to get anywhere trying to scare me into submission. It won’t work.”
Disbelief flashed across his face. You stood your ground, raising your head up high, leaning in.
“I don’t want to fight you, Coriolanus.” You confessed. “Your room. An hour. Don’t keep me waiting.”
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Say what you wanted about Coriolanus Snow, but when you asked him to be on time, he obliged. You didn’t even need to hear his footsteps to know he’d come, which you’d grown finely attuned to by now, enough to hear them leave his office two rooms away and walk the short distance to his room, swinging open the door you’d left decidedly ajar.
And you made sure what he walked in on was a sight to behold; you, sprawled out on his bed in nothing but a white shirt of his, unbuttoned all the way down, falling to your sides. Your head pressed into his silk pillowcases, legs parted lazily as your hand rubbed slow circles on your clit beneath the red lace of your underwear. You could tell from the look on Snow’s face when you rolled your head to the side and looked at him that you’d had the desired effect, that you’d orchestrated this perfectly, because he couldn’t take his eyes off your hand, hips rocking into it, the visual made all the more lewd by the scrap of fabric hiding your movements, leaving his brain to fill in the blanks.
You slowed.
“Glad you could make it.” A small smile formed on your lips.
“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”
“I have. Your bed’s a lot softer than mine.”
He hummed, crossing his arms.
“Why did you ask me here, sweetheart? This is my room, after all.”
Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and even that small motion wasn’t lost on him. Your hand stilled.
“I waited for you.” You said quietly.
He let out a sigh, ragged and tired.
“I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. If you knew how badly I wanted to see you-”
“Don’t. I don’t want your apology.”
His expression gave way to confusion for a split second.
“Okay. What is it you want?”
You paused, gaze flitting between his eyes and his mouth. Then you swallowed, your voice an embrassing whisper.
“I want your mouth on me.” It almost hurt to hold his stare, but you did.
“That so?” was the response. You cleared your throat.
“You say you’re sorry, Snow? Prove it. I’m right here.”
He paused, like he was mulling you over. Like he was figuring out just how to play his cards. Then a small smile pulled at his lips.
“Take your hand away.” His voice was rough, and it gave him away.
You obliged, watching him step towards the bed, towards you. He rolled up his sleeves, eyes on yours and your stomach twisted.
There he is.
“If you’re going to be making demands, it’s only polite that you ask nicely. Wouldn’t you agree?”
You nodded, flushing under his stare.
“You want me to take these off?” He smoothed his hands up your thighs, thumbs hooking into the band of your panties. You'd missed feeling his hands on your skin.
You nodded again, and he tutted.
“Yes.” You corrected. “Please.”
“Good. It was about time you learned some manners.” He slowly slid them off, and you lifted your hips to help him. His gaze slid between your legs, and you shifted your knee so you were covered.
“Not getting shy now, are you? Open your legs for me.��� He instructed, and you obliged, burning under the heat of his gaze as he unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it off before moving in towards you, kneeling on the ottoman. You were already soaked, and you could feel the heat building even more, just from having him near you, having him see what a dripping mess you were.
“Shit.” It was no louder than a whisper, but your perked ears caught it and you pressed your lips together.
He tentatively pushed his thumb through your folds and you whined, a look on his face like he couldn’t quite believe what he was looking at. Did it again, and it caught on your clit, your breath hitching in your throat.
“Please.”
“Good girl. You know how many times I’ve thought about this over the past week? I’ve lost sleep over it.”
“Coriolanus.”
He smoothed his hands over your thighs again, and you yelped as he suddenly pulled you forward, hooking your legs over his shoulders. He kept staring, and you couldn’t take it, blood rushing from your head, so you dropped it back onto the pillows.
“Look at me.” He squeezed your thigh.
You did. You felt a sliver of pride as you noted the slight flush in his cheeks, like maybe he was more worked up than he was letting on.
“You know how many times I came all over those pretty panties of yours, wishing you were wearing them? Think I lost count.”
You couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped you as his breath brushed over your folds, wound so tight you thought you would burst.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Say it again.”
“I want your mouth on me. Please, put your mouth on me.”
You didn’t need to tell him twice, because with a sharp inhale, he pressed his mouth onto your cunt and dragged his tongue over your clit, slowly, firm and deliberate, like he had an itemised list of exactly how to cause your undoing. You gasped at the sudden contact, and your hips bucked off the bed, before his fingers gripped into your hips the way they had the other night, and slammed you back down.
“So fucking needy. Were you really that worked up? Parading your little boy toy around will do that, huh?”
“I’m sorry.” You gasped, as he worked his tongue over your clit again, tracing slow, firm circles that made your legs weak. You grabbed a handful of his hair, blonde locks twisted between your fingers as he pulled away again. You whined.
“See, that’s the thing. I don’t think you are. But you will be.”
You didn’t have time to wonder what that meant, because his tongue was all over you again, lapping at your entrance, lips sucking loudly at your clit as you moaned, free hand twisting creases into his bedsheets.
“Fuck.” You keened as your hips bucked harder, searching for friction that was so close to being enough. Your heels pressed into his back and your hand tightened in his hair, to which he retaliated by digging his nails into your thighs, scraping against the almost-healed bruises that were left from the previous week. The pinch brought you further into that headspace, where you could feel yourself slipping away, crying out as you thrashed under the pressure of his tongue on your cunt.
You kept rocking your hips, hopelessly trying to grind against him, but his hands held you down firmly, keeping the pace torturously slow. You couldn’t help your spaced-out brain from slipping back to weeks ago, when you’d watched him do the same to his whore on this very bed, and you made a sound of protest that just melted in with the rest of your noises, going unnoticed.
You didn’t want to feel this way, to feel disposable, like he could just have his way with you and throw you out. You knew that if you didn’t do something, you’d lose yourself altogether. And you couldn’t bear that thought, of having to give in. Not like this. Not when he held all the cards again.
“I want to sit on your face.” You breathed without thinking, strung out and desperate. Coriolanus pulled back. A smirk on his lips, which were swollen red and covered in your slick. You whimpered as the soft light caught him, showing you the mess you’d made of his face, dripping down his chin.
“Do you now?”
“Please. I’ll ask nicely, I’ll – I’ll beg, if you want me to. Just please, let me sit on your face. I can’t take it anymore, I’m so-” You broke off, gasping as he pressed a soft kiss onto your clit, causing your legs to jolt.
“Poor thing. You really want it, don’t you?”
“Yes. Please, I’ll do anything. Just… please.”
“Good girl.” He murmured, trailing soft kisses down your thigh. “Since you’ve asked so nicely, I’ll let you. Just for a few minutes, okay? Think you can cum that fast?”
“Fuck, yes. Thank you.”
A messy tangle of limbs as he pulled his shirt off, sliding flat onto the bed, hands guiding your shaking legs as you inched over his torso. It was nearly too much, watching his pretty face as you lowered yourself onto him, but you couldn’t look away, hands grabbing the headboard to steady yourself. You couldn’t help but think back to that night, riding his thigh like you were being paid for it. As he carefully eased your hips down, thighs either side of his face, you knew this was going to be a hundred times better than that. And Snow didn’t disappoint, lifting his head to nuzzle your clit as you sucked in a breath, hips jolting forward. You dropped a hand to grab onto his hair, and he didn’t retaliate this time, letting you wind your fingers around his curls as you started to move slowly, rocking your hips against his mouth.
This was much better. The angle was perfect, pressure everywhere you needed it, and you tipped your head back as you moved, one languid lick causing it to drop forward again to look at Snow.
The only time he really moved was to pull you in firmer, and the motion reminded you of how he’d pulled you into his thigh, and before you knew it the ache in your stomach was growing into a throb, burning you up until it felt molten, until you felt drunk from it. The coil tightened further as you got into it, rolling your hips, tugging Snow’s hair to the point where you were sure it must’ve been hurting him, but he either didn’t care or just didn’t stop you. As your hips bucked faster and you looked down at his face, eyes hazy as he ate you out like he was starved, you couldn’t help it, you just started talking, rambling near nonsense and it wouldn’t stop.
“Fuck, that’s it, right there. You’re gonna make me cum all over your face if you keep that up. Holy shit.” Your grip in his hair tightened, so hard it was pulling his head back so you could grind against him just right, clit catching on his nose, cunt spasming against his tongue, and he winced, a broken sound escaping the back of his throat, but it only egged you on. Your voice breathy but taunting, getting cockier by the second.
“Does that hurt, baby? Am I pulling too hard?” His eyes narrowed, but his tongue only fucked into you harder. “You can take it though, can’t you? Fuck. You’re being so good for me, letting me fuck your face like this. Feels so fucking good. Shit, I thought you’d take more convincing, but look at you, eating from the palm of my hand.”
His hands gripped into your hips again, nails digging crescent moons into your skin, and you tightened your thighs around his head which only made him dig harder, the pain tipping you over the edge as you shouted out, hips jerking as your thighs shook, and Snow only pressed in firmer with his tongue as you came, riding out your high with a strangled sob.
He didn’t give you chance to come down from your orgasm, instead pushing you off his face and flipping you over. You landed on your back, scared for a second that you’d be punished for getting carried away, but his lips met yours in a sudden battle for dominance. You moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue. He’d never kissed you like this before. It lit another fire in your stomach, just when you thought you were done.
After what felt like a lifetime getting drunk off each other, he pulled away, and you got to see the mess you’d made of this man. There he was, propped above you, the most powerful man in the country, blonde hair a sweaty wreck of tangles, parted lips sore and swollen, your cum smeared across his mouth and chin, mixed with the trail of your wet tongue in the places you’d just cleaned him up.
You tasted it on your lips, heard it in his laboured breath, saw it in his blown-out eyes, felt it in the small space between you.
This was what power felt like.
He was shaking his head incredulously, like he couldn’t quite believe you. Then, ignoring your hiss, his head dipped between your legs again, smooth tongue rolling over you like cool water on a burn. You flinched, a broken sound slipping from your lips.
“Oh, come on. You can give me one more, right?”
Fuck.
“Coriolanus, I can’t-” You whined as his hot breath lit you up, long fingers sliding inside you.
“You will. Come on, baby. You can take my fingers, can’t you?” His voice mimicked yours as he opened you up, speeding up a little. You hummed as he pressed against your sweet spot, and you hated how it seemed like it was so easy to him, to take you apart like this.
“Good girl. Look at me.” He scolded, when your eyes rolled back, squirming from the overstimulation, pressing his thumb against your clit just to watch you jolt.
“You’re going to do something for me. You’re going to promise me you won’t ever see him again.”
“What? Who, Nathaniel? I-”
He pressed into your clit again, mean, and you squeaked.
“Don’t say his fucking name. Promise me, right now. Say it.”
“I promise. Never again. I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry.” You sobbed.
“Good girl.” He smiled.
“Don’t want anyone else, just you, please. Please, Coriolanus. Will you promise me too?” Your words were airy, and your voice shook.
He slowed his fingers, and shifted himself up to place his lips on yours.
“I promise, sweetheart. It’ll just be us.” His fingers pressed into you harder, scissoring lazily, but every movement lit all your nerve endings on fire. You were so wet it was almost humiliating, or it would be if you weren’t so turned on, obscene sounds bouncing off the walls as he worked you open. Coriolanus could tell, smiling as he whispered praises, sweet nothings into your ear and added a third finger, thumb brushing across your clit as the sensitivity quickly morphed into more pleasure.
“You close again, baby?”
You only whimpered in response, head jerking as your eyes squeezed close, arm sliding down to grab his wrist, pushing it further. You were wrecked, and he knew it. It was his doing.
“Ah.” He knocked your hand away with a knowing smile. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I’m listening.”
You paused, at a mental crossroads, but as he twisted his fingers just right, pressing deeper, you dropped all your inhibitions. Squeezed your eyes closed, cunt gripping his fingers, and confessed.
“I want you to fuck me.” You whispered.
You knew full well what it meant. You didn’t care anymore; you’d had your fun, and you were ready to fold. Lay all your cards out on the table. This ache inside you had never felt so loud. You refused to open your eyes, which were threatening to fill with desperate tears.
“Ask nicely.” He pulled his fingers back, dragging them along your sweet spot. You were starting to lose feeling in your legs.
“Please. Please, fuck me. I’m done, now, I promise. I won’t do it again, Coriolanus, I’m so sorry-”
“Say it again. One more time. Look at me.”
You sighed, eyes flooding with hot tears. You finally opened them.  
“Please, Coriolanus. Fuck me.”
He smiled, but as quickly as it arrived, it morphed into something sinister.
“No.”
His hand stopped, fingers slipping out of you before you could stop them. Your high started to slip away. You rocked your hips, confused out of your mind. Driven to your edge, and then in the same breath, catapulting to a stop.
“I- wait, no… what?” You sounded delirious.
He shrugged, casually lifting his fingers, sucking them off with a pop.
“I don’t think I will. You’ve done quite enough, and I’ve had a long day. So I think you should be on your way now.”
You gaped, dumbfounded. The tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you held them in like they were your last shred of pride.
“But… you said we wouldn’t… I thought-”
He traced a hand across your check, gently, and it took everything in you not to sob.
“I meant what I said. But I’m not quite ready to forgive and forget. You should go and get some sleep.”
“Coriolanus, I- please.” You begged him, eyes wild and desperate.
“Stings, doesn’t it?” He raised his eyebrows and something inside you sank like a heavy cruiser. “A taste of your own medicine.”
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a/n: sorry mom
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1-800-c3dr1c · 7 months
Note
GIRL I NEED A SMUT OF CORIOLANUS SNOW BUT LIKE IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN BUT A SEX POLLENNNNN
YOUNG! CORIOLANUS SMUT ONESHOT.
submissive! reader. dominant! coriolanus snow. female reader. reader is shorter than coriolanus. established relationship (boyfriend and girlfriend). aphrodisiac used in drink unwillingly (reader getting drugged because of it). consent (but technically not because the reader’s under a drug?? ..would’ve consented even if not under a drug). fingering. unprotected sex. mean! coriolanus snow (if you squint). overstimulation. ANOTHER WARNING, NSFW IS AHEAD.
requests are: open! please look at the pinned post for characters i will write for. <3 let me know if you’d like to be in my tag list for whenever i post anything related to young! coriolanus snow under this post as well, or in my inbox!
i hope you like this, anon!! i did change it up slightly, so that it’s an aphrodisiac instead! i hope that you like it, but if you don’t, i can of course rewrite it to fit the request completely! <3
word count: 2,431
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your boyfriend, coriolanus snow, was stressed. you could tell, even by the slightest of things. the pull of his eyebrows going downward, or the small crease of a frown on his mouth. you knew.
you wished you could help him, you really did. and at times, you’d pipe up and ask if he wanted help. disappointingly, he always denied your offer to help him, brushing you off while trying to sound nonchalant about it, letting you know that he could deal with it all by himself.
your boyfriend was a terrible liar, but you chose not to press on whenever he’d deny you of your help. however, it had startled you quite a bit when he had come into your room, a steaming cup of your favorite tea clasped in his hands.
“hello, darling.” he said softly, kissing your cheek and setting the cup down beside you. “i made you some tea.”
“oh! thank you, corio.” you turned to him, a bright smile on your face. “do you need help with anything?”
“no, i’m quite alright. thank you, though.” he lifted a hand to ruffle your hair, smiling back at you.
you found his actions genuinely surprising. he was never one for affection, especially due to how busy he always seemed to be. the problem was, you had no idea how he had gotten so much supposed free time. first he’d made you tea, and he was even talking with you?
“are you going back to work?” your voice was soft as you asked the question.
“hm? no, i have a few hours to spare. i finished what was most important, the rest can wait.” he told you, watching you pick up the cup of tea, softly blow on it, and then drink some of it.
you didn’t pay attention, but if you had, you’d notice that a slight smirk had formed on coriolanus’ face. he was up to something.
“..is something wrong?” you asked, noticing him staring at you.
“mm? nothing’s wrong, love. everything is fine, no need to worry.” he assured you, his head tilting just slightly as you continued to sip the tea. perfect. that’s exactly what he wanted.
“whatever you say, corio.” you shrugged, unbothered by it. after all, he usually kept to himself, and you knew that. it was fine with you, he would tell you if something was wrong when he was ready, and if there wasn’t? that was even better.
he simply put his hands in his pockets, watching you as if he were waiting for something. but what could he be waiting for? as your gaze wandered to his lips, you asked yourself this question. was he waiting for something from you? if so, you didn’t know what it was.
“are you waiting for something?” your voice was low, way lower than you had expected it to be. however, you figured it may just be sleepiness starting to catch up with you. and yet still, your gaze couldn’t help but linger on his lips. how peculiar, but it wasn’t very uncommon for that to happen, so you thought nothing of it.
“mm.. no. i’m not waiting for anything. i was hoping i could spend some time with you, though.” he sounded calm, way calmer than you’d thought he’d be. he seemed so sure of himself, as he always did. but for some reason this felt different. he carried himself slightly differently, as if he was on top of the world.
maybe he was. maybe he wasn’t. but coriolanus had told you plenty of times. snow lands on top. he had also told you that someday, if you’d ever want it, you’d be a snow, too. his wife. but you two were just getting into university, perhaps after your studies were over. for now, all you could focus on was work.
you had told coriolanus that before. that you weren’t thinking of marriage, or hell, even having children. however, for some.. unknown reason, these thoughts began to fade away. those thoughts became fuzzier, obscuring your thought process and no longer claiming it as your own.
..had coriolanus put something in the tea? no, he wouldn’t. he’d never do that to you. right..?
“corio..?” your voice was quiet, barely even audible to your own ears.
“yes, my love?” he replied, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.
you couldn’t think clearly. disregarding your former question, which had been right on the tip of your tongue, waiting for you to ask it, you caught him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to your height and kissing him roughly.
you couldn’t tell, but he was smirking against the surprising kiss, before placing his hands on your waist and pulling you closer. he let out a low groan, a guttural, almost animalistic sound emitting from the back of his throat. “fuck, love.” he murmured against your mouth, his breath catching in his throat.
“i- i’m sorry, corio. i dunno what came over me..” you whispered after having pulled back from the kiss in an attempt to catch your breath.
he didn’t say anything, cupping your cheek. “it’s alright, love. promise, it’s okay. tell me what you want.” he murmured, his lips right beside your ear.
you swallowed thickly. “i need.. need you.” you could barely think clearly now. your head was spinning, your thoughts running miles a minute. frankly, you didn’t quite understand what was going on.
coriolanus snow had put something in your tea. that much was obvious by now, but what? you didn’t know. it could’ve been anything. you were fighting with yourself, knowing that it was a losing battle.
give in, give in, give in. your mind was screaming, and your hands balled into fists as you clutched his shirt. “corio.. please.” you were nearly whining.
“whatever you want, love.” he said quietly, carefully guiding you to your shared bed. despite not being engaged, you two did live together. it was much less expensive, especially with the plinth family paying off nearly all of it for you anyways.
he carefully sat you on the edge of the bed, humming to himself. “what d’you want me to do, darling?” he questioned lowly.
“f- fuck me. please!” you couldn’t keep your hands off of him. frantic, you tangled your fingers in his soft, curly locks of golden hair. he smiled at you, and if your head were clear, you would notice that it was more akin to a smile of which showed that he’d won. as if this was a prize for him, something he’d rightfully deserved.
“sh, shh..” coriolanus soothed you, tracing patterns on the back of your hand with his fingers as he hummed, using his other hand to begin sliding your shirt off of you. “i’m right here, ‘m gonna give you what you need, i promise. alright? just be patient,” it was nearly as if he was mocking you.
he knew that you couldn’t be patient. not in these circumstances. what a fucking tease. you thought it unfair, pouting at him like a child would when they didn’t get what they wanted. “but corio..” you whined out, evidently needy.
“don’t say a word. i’ll take care of you, darling.” he said softly, finally slipping your shirt above your head and smirking at you. “you’re so gorgeous.”
you couldn’t think of a coherent reply to that. your head was fuzzy, and it was obvious that your thoughts only consisted of one thing in its entirety. coriolanus snow.
he busied himself with removing your shorts next, before your hand shot out and caught his wrist. “not fair.. that ‘m gonna be undressed and you’re not.” your voice was quiet, slightly slurring due to what’d he’d put in your tea, which still remained unknown to you.
he laughed, such a startlingly genuine laugh. he hadn’t expected that from you whatsoever. “alright, love. go ahead and off my shirt if you want. unless you want me to do it?” he offered, his tone suddenly seeping with an utterly surprising warmness laced in his words.
“i wanna do it,” you murmured absently, already unbuttoning the shirt. he didn’t say anything, didn’t move away from you. sometimes you’d pause, smiling giddily as you traced one or two patterns on his chest when it was exposed to you. after a few minutes of you fumbling with the buttons, you were able to get the last one unbuttoned.
he helped you this time, and thank goodness he did. you didn’t know if you could handle not being able to feel him. he slipped the shirt off of himself, letting it fall to the floor in a heap behind him. he caught your chin with two fingers, tilting your head up so that your lips met his own in a heated kiss.
this distracted you, making him able to slip off your shorts and underwear without much difficulty. after he’d done so, you shivered at feeling his finger beginning to trace patterns on the inside of your thighs.
“corio, please don’t tease.” you whimpered against his mouth. he smiled at you, as if a kind smile, before carefully slipping one of his fingers past your folds. this allowed for a gasp to escape your lips, and you broke off the kiss, resting your head in the crook of his neck. he used his vacant hand to pull you nearly impossibly closer, that you hadn’t even realized you two could even get any closer until he’d done so.
“tell me how much you need it, darling.” he cooed softly, evidently teasing you with how his tone was. however, this fact slipped past your mind, and you didn’t hesitate.
“need it so badly—need you so badly! corio, please.. please, please, please, please, please..” you whimpered, letting out a squeak when he slipped another finger into you, carefully thrusting them in and out.
if in any other circumstances, you’d be blushing in embarrassment at how lewd the noises of coriolanus thrusting his fingers in and out of your pussy were. this time, it was quite the contrary. you didn’t care, your body trembling as you moaned out, pleading for more.
“need you, need your cock- please!!” you sobbed, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. this felt so good, so so good!
“nuh-uh. ‘m gonna have you come on my fingers first so that you’re ready, mkay? don’t wanna hurt you, y’know.” if you hadn’t known any better, you’d think he actually cared a lot about that. but he’d fucked you plenty of times in the past, this was just his way of teasing. of edging you on, making you beg until he finally decided that he’d fuck you once he thought you’d done good enough for him.
it seemed like your lucky day, however. he seemed just about ready to fuck you, and before you could tell him you were going to come, the feeling of emptiness in your core suddenly fell over you. you gasped, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. “wh.. what was that for?” you choked out, shaking. you needed him! he knew that! why hadn’t he let you come?!
“i think that you’re quite ready, love. i thought you wanted me to fuck you?” he grinned at you, a mischievous grin thar showed he fucking knew what he was doing.
you nodded, desperate. you couldn’t let your orgasm escape you, nor could you even think about not having his cock inside of you. in fact, it was all you could think about. it consumed your mind, leading you to be even more frantic than you had before.
you tried to take of his pants, but he’d already beat you to it. he was teasing you. he was making sure to take his time, slowly slipping off his pants before slipping off his boxers just as slow. it was excruciating, and you whined every time your need for him got even a bit worse.
he leaned over you without warning, pressing his cock against your folds, opening them slightly with his tip, but not pushing in. “tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” he murmured.
you nodded again, unable to speak clearly, and that’s all he needed. with a deep breath, he slowly pushed his cock into you. inch by inch he sunk into you, and it felt like heaven. you let out a moan, and coriolanus groaned out.
he slowly pulled back, keeping his tip inside, before he thrusted back into you at a somewhat faster pace. he continued this until he found a good pace to set for himself, a sheen of sweat adorning his face. he was concentrated, letting out breathy grunts and groans. to shut himself up, he leaned down and bit at your neck, beginning to suck on a specific spot.
you knew what he was doing. he was marking you, creating a hickey on your neck. showing everyone that you were his. you were coriolanus snow’s, and he wanted everyone to know. not that you minded in this state.
you were a moaning mess, sobbing as tears rolled down your cheeks. you were shaking so bad, and to stop you from shaking any harder, he pulled you closer to him, whispering sweet little nothings against your neck from time to time.
over time, his pace became utterly relentless. it was nearly inhumane, and it felt so fucking good. you were panting, chasing the orgasm that he’d denied you of from before, and chasing back the air you’d lost.
“oh, fuck.. oh fuck.” coriolanus gasped into your neck, and you knew what that meant.
he was close, and so were you. “love.. love, please. come with me.” he groaned out, his thrusts becoming sloppier, his pace speeding up to the point where you hadn’t even thought was possible to begin with.
all you could do was nod, shaking as you let out a high-pitched moan, your orgasm crashing over you as stars blurred your vision.
coriolanus didn’t stop, however. he thrusted into you, helping you carry out your orgasm and allowing him to reach his own. with a loud groan, muffled by his mouth pressed against your neck, he came hard, pushing his cum into you.
slowly, your thoughts began to clear up. you could think a bit more clearly, and as he lifted his head to look at you, coriolanus spoke.
“are you alright?” three simple words that formed a commonly asked question, and yet you knew the answer to that.
you were perfectly fine.
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cherry-leclerc · 7 months
Text
forever be ☆ cl16
genre: porn with slight plot, humor, blind date trope, longing, age gap (6 years)
word count: 10.8k
Foolishly, you find yourself being dragged into an unwanted blind date. Again. Lucky for you, so is a special someone.
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+... m!receiving, penetrative sex, appearance of tit foreplay and slight fingering, a bit of biting and crying (??)
inspired by this and this !
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Blind dates were never something you ever thought you would consider. They never made much sense. Why would you put yourself in an uncomfortable position, and then what? You don’t like them and it doesn’t work out?
“Whole lot of bullshit if you ask me.” Kika swears as she tosses her brown locks over her shoulder. You’ve known each other for a few years, but quickly became as close as sisters during all the late night shoots you would have together. 
“You can’t be single forever,” she says as you roll your eyes. Ever since you broke up with your last boyfriend, she’s been playing matchmaker. It hasn’t quite worked out. 
He’s too vain.
Rude to waiters, no thank you.
He brought his mom to the date!
There was always something wrong and she knew it was only a matter of time before you completely blocked her advice. That is until her boyfriend, Pierre, told her he knew just the right person for you.
“Yikes, don’t put out any bad juju.” Theatrically, you make a cross with your two index fingers. She lets out a light giggle as she throws a pillow in your direction. You yelp as it hits your head.
“Just one more, okay? If it doesn’t work out then we can be done with all of this and have it your way.” 
“Threatening me, now?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “One more.”
-
The following week Kika confirms your date over brunch. He’s nice. Very handsome.
Sipping on your iced tea you nod. “I mean as long as he doesn’t ask me if I can help him win an ex-girlfriend back…” 
“It happened one time.”
-
Later that night for some reason you grow nervous as you get closer to your date. Palms get slightly sweaty and you hurriedly wipe away on your dress. “What the…” You’ve never been nervous before a blind date, why would you? Deep down you knew things like this never worked out, but why now?
“Here is fine!” Handing over some cash to the cab driver, you climb out as you make your way over to the dimly lit restaurant. Okay. A tad bit too romantic. Taking in a deep breath, you walk in. 
You’re quickly reminded why you hate stuff like this. You have no clue as to how your date looks and you’re left glancing around like a lost puppy. Kika had mentioned that he would be wearing something that would make it obvious. Scanning the room you search and everything looks quite normal. 
Except for the man who sits with black sunglasses.
“Charles?” He nods as he stands up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. Startled, you pull back a bit.
“Shit, sorry. Habits.” A nervous laugh is released as you smile and he pulls out your chair to sit. 
“It’s okay, I’m not too used to all this European mannerism…” The shy smile that is sprawled on your lips has him almost blushing. You were beautiful. When Pierre had first mentioned his and Kika’s plan, he almost wanted to boot the idea right away. Nothing good ever came out of all this.
She’s super sweet! I’ve met her a couple of times and she’s really down to earth. 
But she’s a model? Tell me what model has ever been like that.
Kika slightly punches Charles’ shoulder as he winces. Sorry, he mutters.
Just trust us.
“Oh. You’re not from here?” You shake your head as your eyes scan the menu sitting right in front of you. You had barely met the guy, but his burning gaze was too much.
“No, but I moved here a year ago for work…Still catches me off guard at times.” He makes a mental note of the way you bit your cheek before you look up at him. He gulps.
“I’m sure you’ll get used to it soon enough.” 
It surprises you how much he actually listens. It also surprises you even more that you actually enjoy hearing him talk. 
“Sorry if Pierre and Kika dragged you into all of this. I just…” He clears his throat before playing with the napkin on his lap. “I had a tough break up a few months ago and he’s been trying to get me to meet new people.”
Not what a girl wants to hear on a first date, but you would be a complete hypocrite if you judged him for it. “Don’t worry, they didn’t. I also went through a break up a few months back.”
He almost wants to laugh. Nice try. Who in their right mind would break up with someone as pretty as you? Long lashes fan your face as you take a bite of your raspberry pastry. The way your plump lips pressed together as you enjoy its taste. 
“I guess we’ll understand each other more than I anticipated.”
-
“How was it?” You pull the phone far away from your face as you put it on speaker. Walking towards the refrigerator you take out a plate of fruit. You hum.
“It was alright.” The Portuguese model gasps as she switches to FaceTime. Picking up, you lean against the counter. 
“You like him!” Choking on a blueberry you take a step back as if her words stung. Do not! But there’s no use. “Yes, you do! After every other date you would already have a reason ready as to why you couldn’t see them anymore, but look! Oh my God. You do have a heart!”
Frowning, you munch on a strawberry. “I’ve always had a heart.”
Kika lets out a slight pout as she nods apologetically. “I was kidding, of course you do. It’s just that this is the first guy you might actually like after that jerk you luckily now call your ex-boyfriend.” You snort. Kika giggles at the sound before she lays her phone against a pillow. “I just want you to finally meet someone who would actually fit your standards. It’s what you deserve.”
“Well, let’s just not get too ahead of ourselves.”
-
“10 minute break, darling.”
Smiling sweetly, you make your way over to your trailer before you flop down onto the couch. You lay there silently for a few minutes before you actually grab your phone.
Hey. It’s Charles.
Your heart flips as you think of a response. 
Hi!
Good enough. Three dots pop up before they disappear.
I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner later? 9pm if that fits with your schedule.
You smile as you tuck your hair behind your ear. See you then.
-
As soon as he sees you skipping down the stairs to him, he immediately feels better about feeling more excited to see you. The way you smile ear to ear when he hands you a colorful bouquet of flowers makes him thankful for listening to Kika’s advice. She likes carnations! Not roses.
“They’re so pretty! Thank you, Charles.” Even with heels you have to tippy toe to press a warm kiss against his stubble. Stepping back you look up with sparkling eyes. “Getting better with this whole ‘mwah’ thing, right?” He chuckles as he opens the passenger door for you.
“Totally.”
As he sits in front of you ordering for both of you, you take the time to notice everything about him. His lashes, his freckles, his pink lips, his dimples, his eyes. You pray that you don’t come off as a creep, but Charles was perfect. 
The waiter leaves and he turns to you with a grin. “How was work?” You’re a bit taken back by his question. It’s the most decent one out there, but not even your ex-boyfriend cared enough to ask.
You clear your throat. “Very well. Thank you for asking.” 
He nods before saying, “I never asked how old you were…I mean you moved here all alone, I would imagine you’re at least 22?” A slight panicked look crosses his features. You giggle.
“Something like that. I’m 20.” He lets out a breath of relief before taking a sip of red wine. “What about you?”
“I recently turned 26.” 
Older. Wiser. You could work with it. 
You’re both sharing a plate of tiramisu when he asks, “Would you like to go to one of my races?”
“Oh. Where?” You wish you could jump at the opportunity. I mean, if he’s asking if it's because he wanted you there, how could you say no? But you were flooded with upcoming photoshoots.
“Texas.” 
Now you were very interested. Green eyes stare back at you as he waits for a response, but then he shakes his head in a shy manner. “You’re probably busy. It’s okay-”
“I could make it work.” Pearly whites shine back at him. “I’ll make it work. I promise.”
-
You and Charles spend the few days together before he flies off to Texas. You learn very quickly that he is terrified of snakes.
“Ow!” 
You had both gone hiking and you were too busy admiring his glistening abs to notice the snake slithering right in front of you both. That is, until Charles shrieked and jumped onto your back. Unfortunately, you weren’t as strong as him.
He quickly rises up and he lifts you up from the floor and starts brushing the dirt off you. He immediately stops when he touches your ass. 
“It’s just a little snake, Charles,” you groan as he nods to himself. Of course, he squeaks, but he still hides behind your delicate figure. You want to hurl over laughing but you would hate to make him feel as if you’re teasing his phobia. “It’s probably harmless…” 
Just then you turn to the snake and see it making its way to you quickly. You squeal as you jump onto his back. “Go, go, go!” Gripping onto your legs, he starts running down the hill. Once you reach the bottom - which wasn’t that difficult since you had barely started your hike - he sets you down as he huffs. You giggle.
“Oh my God! That was so much fun!”
“No!” He slightly glares as you shut up. “Not fun at all.”
You bite your lip as you try your best to refrain from laughing. “Of course. Not fun at all.”
After Charles’ worst nightmare, you both decide to go back to his flat to cook some dinner after he bragged how he was a top chef.
“I don’t know,” you murmur, “Smells burned.”
Walking over to you he takes a look. “It’s fine! It’s a part of the process, amour.” A skeptical look stares back at him as he shoots a thumbs up and you listen regardless.
Taking a seat on his dining room table, you say a quick thank you when he hands you a plate. It looks pretty delicious, you’ll admit it, but you still had your suspicions. Taking a bite you quickly feel yourself wanting to spit it out, but you urge yourself to swallow. “Wow…Um…Really good.”
Taking a quick bite his jaw goes slack. He immediately spits it back out on a napkin. “Fuck! Oh God.” His face scrunched up as he looks to where you sit pretty, looking back at him with a little smirk. He wants nothing more than to kiss it away. “How could you even…”
“It wasn’t that bad!”
“I could handle your critics y’know-”
“It was awful.”
“What the fuck,” he wails as he shuts his eyes and throws his head back. The sight itself has you almost drooling. Part of you wishes to climb onto his lap and kiss his thick neck. This is probably the face he makes when he gets his cock sucked, you think to yourself, but quickly scold yourself. Instead you place a soft hand over his.
“Sorry. How about we order take out?”
Sitting on his cloud couch you both enjoy warm Chinese food as you watch TV. “I could go to your race,” you speak up, chop sticks twirling. He lights up.
“Are you serious?” He sets his food aside as you nod. 
“It wasn’t easy, but yes. I’ll be able to go.”
He cups your face as he smiles. “You’re going to love it, oh, it’s one of the fun ones.”
Charles + Cowboys? Oh, you bet it will be.
As he walks you to your front door he brings up the idea over how you can travel with him through private jet. Have to treat you right since you fixed your schedule to come with me. Reluctantly, you agree.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow then?”
“I’ll be ready.”
He nods as he stares at your rosy lips. Would they feel as soft as they look? Would you taste as sweet as they seem?
“I’ll see-”
His large hands grab your waist as he leans down to kiss you. You're stunned for a single moment, but when you feel his warm tongue, you immediately let go. He kisses you so desperately, it has your knees buckling. Thank God he’s holding you up with his tight grip.
Pulling away, you place your hands over his chest, chest rising up and down. You press a soft kiss against his cheek as you step out of his magnetic field.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Charles.”
-
The game started out innocent, cheerful even, but now? 
This was war.
“You’re such a cheater! A bad one, too.” He furrows his brows as he frowns at you. Rolling your eyes, you lean against the small table that separates you both. He can’t help but stare at your chest, lingerie poking through. He has to stop himself from groaning at the sight. “Where are they, Charles?” He shakes his head.
“Je jure! Je jure! I swear I don’t have anything!”
Clicking your tongue you lean back against your seat as you let out a menacing smile. “Okay.” An uneasy feeling bubbles inside as he eyes you, slightly dubious. Alright then, he responds. The game of Uno continues as he grows more and more excited to win. Just one more card-
“What-”
“Oh. Were you looking for these?” Flashing a stack of cards towards him, his eyes grow wide. “Charles, Charles, Charles…” You wink at him, teasingly. “I’m always watching.” The rest happens in a blur and next thing he knows, you're celebrating. Standing up on the table, you sway your hips as you shimmy. He can’t help but smile, even if he lost. “Eat it and burn.” Just then the private jet enters a small wave of turbulence that causes you to fly straight into his lap. You both groan.
“Jesus.”
Blushing, you rub his head before rubbing yours, but he isn’t worried about that. He’s just trying to get over the fact that your ass presses right against him. You had to get off of him now. But the way you move against him to face him has him fluttering eyes closed. “Fuck, are you okay?” Your voice is filled with concern. Broccoli. Asparagus. Cabbage. Broccoli. Asparagus. Cabba-
“Oh God! I broke you!” Your warm hands against his face have him opening his eyes. 
“No! You didn’t. It’s just that…I’m trying to get my mind off of…” You’re nodding, urging him to continue as you comb your fingers through his hair. It feels so nice.
“Off of what?”
He lets out a shaky breath as his hands slide down to your waist. A warm sensation enters your lower belly with his touch. “You.” 
“Me? Wha- oh.” You feel him now. How hard he is under you. The way his grip turns more firm as he tries his best to keep his eyes open. “Oh Go- I’m gonna get up now-”
“Wait.” His warm hands push you deeper against him. “Just a minute. Please.”
Nodding, you stay quiet, him having his eyes closed as he falls into a pattern of inhaling and exhaling as if it was the most difficult thing to do. For him, it sure did seem like it. And he just looked so handsome. Eyes closed, head thrown back, pink lips turning slightly red from the occasional times he would bite down. So, it made perfect sense the moment you leaned up to kiss his throat. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me.”
-
“What happened next?” Kika squeals as she claps her hands in delight. You had arrived a few hours ago and somehow already made your way to your best friend.
“This is a bit too much even for me, but what happened next?” 
And Pierre.
There was a bit of hesitation in your voice when you say, “Nothing.” The couple share a small glance before humming suspiciously. All of a sudden, your skin grows warm. “I’m being serious, nothing did! The flight attendant interrupted, letting us know we were about to land. If anything, we got scolded.” 
“Ha! He got - what do you call it again - blue balled!”
“Pierre!”
“Qu'est-ce que j'ai dis!”
Raising a single hand, you brush him off, as if his words didn’t matter. “It’s fine. But please…Can we just never mention this like, ever.” They both shake your hand before shooting a thumbs up. “Great.”
You continue catching up about other business. Pierre’s trouble with his car, Kika’s studies, your upcoming photoshoot with Dior. Everyone is so deep into the conversation that they don’t notice when Charles enters the rooms. He comes to a halt, a clear indication that he was surprised by their visit. “What are you guys doing here?”
Kika smiles. “Oh, you know. Catching up.” He nods, eyes shifting to his best friend. His brows furrowed with concern. 
“Is he okay?” 
But he really wasn’t. Pierre’s lips were tugging a teasing smile, face turning light red from how hard he was trying to suppress his words. If they were in a cartoon, fumes would be rushing out of his ears. The Portugues giggled nervously. “Of course he is!” She stands up in a hurry before grabbing his hand, already dragging him towards the exit. “We should get going though! See you guys later for dinner!”
As soon as they leave, he kisses your forehead. “Hey.”
“Hey. How was your meeting?”
He sighs as he takes a seat next to you. “Same old, same old. I don’t really want to talk about it, if that’s okay.” No problem, you respond with a sympathetic smile. “I think I’m going to shower before we leave.”
Sitting on the bed, you weigh your options. Risky, you hum as you bite down on your lip. Really risky. Without sparing a second thought, you jump up as you swing your dress off, leaving you just in your panties and bra. Walking to the bathroom, you can’t help but sneak a peek in the nearby mirror. Trying your best to raise up some confidence, you apply some lipstick, tussle your hair a bit, pinch your cheeks for that natural blush. Giddy with excitement, you find yourself falling into little twirls.
“Hey, what do you think about– fuck.”
“Ah!” Dropping to the ground, you crawl like a little crab, rushing to hide behind the bed. “Close your eyes! This is–close your eyes!”
“Okay! They’re closed, they’re closed, don’t worry.” His voice is strained, you could tell. Your confidence is long gone as you climb underneath the covers. Part if you wants to rush out the door and never look back. That seemed like a pretty good idea. “Are you–can I…”
“Yes.” Opening his eyes, he finds you wrapped up with the white duvet, only your eyes peeking out. While he’s trying his best to get your body off of his head, your eyes wander his wet frame, towel wrapped around his waist. “Umm…I-I am so sorry you saw any of that…I…” 
Making his way closer, your heart thumps against your chest as a warning. Nope. Nope. Nope. “I should apologize, too. I’m sorry for barging in on you, I should’ve made sure.” 
“Apology accepted! Long forgotten!” Twisting the bed sheets, you wince. “Would you mind handing me my dress?” 
“Your um- your dress. Yes.” He picks up your piece of clothing that lies at the foot of the bed as he hands it to you, leaving enough space for you not to get too uncomfortable. Also, enough for him to remind himself to not do something he might regret. “Thank you,” you softly say. Heat rises up to your cheeks. “Could you please…” You spin a small finger as he chokes. Right, he yelps. He can hear the commotion you cause in an attempt to slip on your dress as fast as possibly. Tumbling, you stand up to grab your heels. “I’ll wait outside for you to change. I’m ready whenever you are.”
Skipping out, he doesn’t even have a chance to respond before the door slams shut. 
-
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me. How am I supposed to see him now and not bring this up?” 
Grabbing Pierre’s collar, you tug him closer, eyes burning with a subtle threat. “Listen here, old man. You won’t say a word if you know what is good for you.” Blue eyes go wide as he peeps over to Kika who only shrugs. 
“Not a word,” he confirms as you let go.
Dinner was…tense. But that was only between you and the Monegasque. 
“Steak,” you both say as the waiter nods. “You know what…I think I’ll just do a salad.” Charles clicks his tongue.
“You want the steak, so you should get it. I’ll get the salad.” 
“No, well, now I want the salad. Not the steak.”
“You were just drooling over the steak, just get it.”
You glare as you close your menu. “I want the salad.”
“Excuse them,” Kika apologizes as Pierre sits there in amusement, soaking in the show that sits right in front of them. 
“No problem,” the waiter beams. “Couple’s bicker all the time.”
“They’re not-”
“You get the steak. I’ll get the salad.”
“No, you get the steak and I’ll get th-”
“You do know we’re a restaurant and we’re not limited to one piece of meat, right? How about I put you both down for the steak?” Opening your mouth, the waiter smiles before hurrying off. “Be back in a jiffy!”
“I have a feeling she might spit in your food.” 
“Shut up, Pierre,” Kika hisses. “Though you should start agreeing on what dessert you guys might want if it takes you this long.”
After dinner you were ready to go back and knock out. Just forget about your humiliating day. And that would have been the case if it weren’t for a little someone who wanted to go-
“Golfing! We should go golfing!” The Frenchman grins. “It’ll be fun!”
“Honey, I don’t think they want to. How about we raincheck?” Kika pats his shoulder as she gives him a small peck. He groans.
“Another day, mate. I’m sure this pretty girl wants to get some sleep,” Charles laughs as he signals to where you yawn. This wakes you up though as you scowl.
“I don’t, actually. I wanna go.” Raising his brow he asks, Are you sure? If you’re tired that’s fine, we can go back. “You can go back to the hotel if you want, but I’m staying.” Grabbing Kika’s hand, you both strut away, already heading towards the black SUV. 
“What’s wrong with her?” he mutters as he runs his hands through his hair.
“I don’t know, man, what is wrong?”
Confusion crosses the green eyed boy's eyes as he tilts his head a bit. “You know something I don’t?”
“I mean I wouldn’t say it like that, but-”
“Hello? Are you guys coming or what?” The Portuguese yodels as she pokes her head out the window. Her eyes are sending a warning to her boyfriend. Patting Charles' shoulder, he runs towards the car. 
“Come one, C. It’ll be fun.”
-
It was not fun.
“Let me show you,” he offers when you swing the club for the 5th time, chipping grass and dirt along the way. You growl a low, It’s fine. I got it. He squeaks when you swing too far back and hit his shin. 
“Are you okay?” you whisper as he whines. I’m okay. Can I just show you? “Yes, please.” Standing behind you, he grabs your arms as he gives you advice and demonstrates with you. For a moment you stop listening but the playful grins that your friends wear is enough for you to pull away from his touch, so suddenly, he jumps back a bit. “I think I got it now. Thank you.”
“Very well then.” Making his way over to Kika and Pierre, they all stand with observing eyes. Standing still. Just waiting. Any minute now-
“Would you mind going further into the golf course to see where my ball lands?” You’re not quite sure why or who you’re asking, but as soon as Pierre agrees and starts to make his way over you shout out a quick, “Not you! Uhhh…Charles, could you do it pretty please?” His heart squeezes with your puppy eyes. Y-y-yeah, he mumbles as he jogs deeper into the open area, shooting you a thumbs up as you let out a breath of relief. 
“He won’t bite, you know that, right?” Kika giggles when you poke your tongue out. Turning your attention, you push your hips slightly back, knees slightly bent, too. Practicing a few swings, you narrow your eyes towards the flag that points out the cup. Licking your lips, you swing as you hear a quick click with the sudden contact. You can’t tell if it was good, but it looked good enough to you. “Did you guys see that?” Jumping up and down you run towards your best friend as you hug her as if you just won a Nobel Prize. 
“That was so good!” 
“I was just one with the ball–I felt it in my bones-”
The engine of the golf cart has you both spinning around to where you see Pierre driving to the middle of the field. You squint your eyes. “What is that?” Kika murmurs, grabbing your hands as she leans forwards as if that could help her see clearer. 
“Not sure. Is it a hill? It wasn’t there befo…” The figure suddenly angles themselves to their elbows. “Holy shit! It’s Charles!” Squealing, you rush to the second golf cart, immediately pressing on the gas as if your life depended on it. You’re forgetting me! Sharply pressing the brakes, Kika rushes in as she taps your thighs, signaling you to go. As soon as you make it there, you could tell; it’s bad. Blood oozes out of his nose as he swats his friends hand away when he presses tissues against his face. “Oh my God.” Kneeling down beside him, you cradle his face, gingerly.
“I’m okay,” he groans as he brushes his fingers against your hip. “It’s no big deal.”
Your eyes look almost as if you’ve gone crazy, when you shriek, “No big deal? This is–” Blood drips onto your hand as you grow a bit faint. “...not okay.”
“Maybe not now, but I will be-”
“Woah there,” Kika shrieks as your body goes limp. “She’s gone.”
“What?”
“Cool! I’ve never heard of a dead body on a golf course before!”
“She’s not dead, dickhead, she only fainted.” Kika rolls her eyes as she brushes your hair out of your face. You’re sprawled out on the grass, as if it was your wake. “Charles, quick. Try and wake her up.”
The Monegasque winces, rubbing his nose as he crawls his way over to you. “I…Umm…” Give her a big ‘ol kiss, Pierre hollers as Kika smacks his chest. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” He taps your cheek before rubbing a small circle. “This is getting scary - and dark. Can you hear meeee?” Groaning, you begin to rub your head and eyes as he comes to vision.
“Charles?”
He smiles. “Hey, there.” Small smile starts to make its way to your face before you deflate with fear. Looking down at you is Charles, but with dark red blood dripping all over you. Letting out a loud scream as you aim a quick punch. “Fuck me, not again!”
-
“Okay, good, alright. Right there.” Kika and Pierre huff as they drop you and Charles against the cool bed. It had taken lots of explaining to the country club that they weren’t in fact not trying to get away with murder, but much rather, just trying to bed good friends and drop you back at your shared hotel room. It was much harder dealing with the two of you who were completely out of it. 
“Kikaaaa,” you whine as you cling onto her arm. “This is sooo nice of youuu. I really appreciated it, I doooo.” You pat her cheek before dragging your hand all over her face as you giggle. She swats you away. Anytime honey, she responds. Charles groans.
“Piereeeee. This is sooo-”
“Yes! Nice of me? No problem, it’s been a long day and it is time for me and my beautiful lady to get some rest!” Tugging Kika away, they shout a quick goodbye before they exit. Tossing over to face you, he rubs your stomach. 
“How are you feeling?”
You shut your eyes. “Like hell.” He laughs as he sighs when he feels your hands slide on top of his. “What about you?”
“Like hell.” And you might be a tad bit delirious but the laugh that bubbles out of you is enough for him to forget his ringing nose. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
Your laugh dies down as you roll over to him. “Even after I almost killed you twice today?” Small fingers softly tap against the dry blood on his nose. 
“Even after that, yes.”
-
The next few days leading up to the Austin GP you were able to manage pushing off any rigidness that you had placed between you and Charles. Kind of.
Psst. Where are you? Peeking your head behind a stack of soft tires, you shoot your hand out to haul Kika towards you. She yelps at the sudden surprise. What the fu- “I can’t do this anymore.” She quirks a brow.
“Now you’re just making this complicated on yourself because you want to.”
“What? No! He’s making it hard on me.”
Crossing her arms she asks, “And how is he making it hard on you, if you don’t mind me asking.” You want to stomp your feet in frustration but you stop yourself when a few engineers pass by, sharing a small greeting to you both. 
“He’s…too much. Have you seen him, come on, with that obnoxious cowboy hat? Or his cute little mustache?” Kika giggles at the reminder and shakes her head no.
“I have a handsome boyfriend,” she defends. You chuckle.
“Right. But…” Your mind stays put at the image of Charles and all the possibilities that lie within. It was all becoming too much, really. You clap your hands. “It’s okay! I can get over it.”
-
“You looked so good,” you moan around his cock. It’s a bit muffled but clear enough to have him groaning and rutting his hips harder. Choking, you squeeze your eyes shut as you grip onto his knees. 
He had thought about this- dreamt about this and every time he thought he would know how to handle it and act cool. But there was no way of acting put together when you’re kneeling in prayer. “Fuck.” With a dirty smile, you grin around his cock before pulling your lips back, twirling your tongue around his pink tip and sliding your warm mouth back down. Letting out a few shaky breaths he says, “Y-y-you need to p-pull away now if you don’t w-want me t-to-''
But you’re deepthroating him so good and swallowing, causing your throat to close around him and that has his voice hitching, cutting off as he lets out one last moan before finishing in your mouth. White cum leaks the corner of your lips before you pick it up with your finger and lick it once you pull away. You giggle.
Climbing onto his lap, you sweetly kiss his face as he smiles. Kissing his red nose, you ask, “Did you like it?” The way you sound, confident, but a bit unsure, is enough for him to kiss your plump lips as if this were the most important kiss of his life. Which to him, it was. 
“You’re amazing.” Blushing, you dig your face into his neck as you both sit there for a while longer. The room is quiet and calm as he falls into his own thoughts. Drawing shapes against your thigh, he clears his throat. “Why were you distancing yourself before?” He bites back a smile when he feels you lick his neck.
“I wasn’t pulling away…” His eyes twinkle in response. You sigh. “I was…embarrassed.” His face grows soft as he asks, Why? Looking down to where his fingers trace your lap, you start. “The first day at the hotel - when we got here - I came up with a dumb idea.” The way he’s looking at you has you nervously chuckling. “I was going to surprise you in the shower. That’s why I had stripped down and then you walked out and… I wanted to die.”
He’s laughing now as you smack his chest defensively. “I missed out on that? Noooo!” He wails as he throws his head back. The view takes you back to the first time he cooked for you and did the exact same thing. 
You can now confirm: he does close and throw his head back when he’s getting his cock sucked.
“You didn’t miss out on much,” you reassure him, biting down on your thumb, nervously, before letting go. He’s listening now, green eyes dedicated to you. “I’ve never…”
“Had sex?” His voice is pitched with shock as you shake your head.
“Dear God, no. That ship has sadly sailed, but…Never had sex with someone older than me.”
“I’m not that old,” he jokes. You narrow your eyes with humor.
“You’re not,” you agree, “But I’ve only been with guys my age. They never had much to offer, though.”
He hates the idea of you ever being with someone who wasn’t him, but he knows there is not much he can do. 
But prove he’s much better. 
He pecks your lips. “I’ve heard that can happen sometimes.” His voice is light, slightly stingy, and that makes you smile. “Been there too - if you can believe it. But we can take it slow. We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready.”
And you might be eager and desperate for him, but you know it would be better to hold off and get more comfortable with the idea.
“Thank you.”
-
“How does this make any sense?”
Your eyes flick back and forth - from Xavi to Charles, from Charles to Xavi. Part of you was almost afraid to intervene into the heated conversation. 
“Yeah, we’ll bring that up to the FIA.” A heavy sigh is released as Xavi rubs his temples, eyes momentarily shut. “Let’s just stick to the bright side- we did our best.”
The Monegasque rolls his eyes, hands flinging up in response. “And yet it never seems like enough.” 
“Look the issue is always something we can fix-“
“That’s the same story I’ve been told time and time again! If it were fixed then we wouldn’t be dropping from P3 straight into a DQ.” The engineer huffs, eyes empty and tired - and while you completely understand where Charles was coming from, you felt bad.
“Charles, I think…” His cold gaze catches you off guard for a moment but quickly softens up with the sound of your voice. “...I mean I understand why you’re frustrated, but I’m sure he is too. Maybe you both should just take some time to cool down and when you’re ready, then you can sit back down to come up with a proper solution.” 
For a scary second he doesn’t say anything as you hear a low, grazie tesoro, from Xavi. You’re on edge but when he nods with a small smile, you let out a breath of relief that you didn’t know you were holding in. 
“Do you want to stay?” Hmm, you chirp, eyes attentive. Turning on his car, he begins to back out of the parking lot. “Here in Texas. For a while longer before we fly to Mexico. Kika and Pierre are going to and I thought you might want to as well-”
“You’re not needed in Mexico already?” He shakes his head. “In that case; yes.”
-
Pierre had planned a whole year's trip for one single day. And every single activity was a near death experience.
“Horseback riding.”
Sharing an excited squeal, you and Kika hop up and down as Charles finishes up a quick call. The morning had started early, per Pierre’ request, but no one had really complained up until that point.
“Danny Ric recommended this farm just an hour away, but you’re with an F1 driver, we’ll make it there in 10 minutes max.” 
“I’m driving,” the green eyed boy interrupts as he snatches the keys away from his best friend. “There’s no way we’ll be safe if you drive.” Sheepishly, Kika agrees. Pierre’ mouth hangs agape. Quickly, he takes the keys back.
“My agenda; I drive.”
-
“I can lose him! Just give me a minute!”
The drive had started out calm. Music was playing from your and Kika’ mixed playlist as you both chatted in the backseat. Charles was screeching every single second due to Pierre’s driving skills. It was great. 
“Amore, they have a horse that looks like an Oreo,” Pierres announces as Kika claps with delight. “Rented that one out just for you.” It was a sweet gesture, something that even had you swooning, and all would have been fine if you weren’t running a bit late. “As long as we’re there at 2pm.”
Biting down on your lip, Charles turns back to look at you. Raising up your phone you show him. 
1:20pm.
You were still 45 minutes away. There was no way. You’re about to bring it up until Charles silently hushes you. “What’s so important about a cookie looking horse?” he asks, slowly. Kika beams.
“I had one like that growing up. His name was Spot. Technically, it belonged to my grandparents but deep down we all knew it was mine. P, has been on a mission to find a clone of some sort. Kinda sweet.”
Pierre’s winks through the rear view mirror as he switches lanes. A tiny car honks as you flinch. Close one, he mutters. “And dare I say I found Spot’s twin. Reincarnation! Mon amour, you’re going to love him when we get there…”
1:25pm.
Eyes as wide as saucers, he steps on the gas so suddenly, it has you flying against the seat. You let out a scream - you think.  “Pourquoi ne m'as-tu pas dit l'heure?” Charles winces.
“You should have been checking the time yourself! You’re the one driving!”
“But you’re supposed to be my GPS!”
“Non, je ne suis pas!” 
The Frechman presses harder on the gas. You yelp. “Kiks, you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had, don’t you dare forget it.” 
“No, you are one of the best friends I’ve ever ha- Ah!” The Portuguese clings onto the window in an attempt to keep straight when her boyfriend switches lanes harshly. “Pierre, it’s fine! I don’t want to see my dead horse’ twin that bad.” Swiftly, he turns around as he shakes his head. Charles curses as he reaches out to keep the wheel straight.
“Listen to me Kika; you are meeting that horse.”
“Oh. I don’t feel so good.” Feeling queasy, with all the commotion and awful driving skills, you let out a whimper as you hold your head. A worried Charles turns around to caress your knee. It’s okay, baby. Do you need anything?
“Pierre, seriously, stop the bloody car.” His tone is threatening, but this doesn’t seem to stop Pierre. 
“I’m sorry - I am - but we are making it there because we are making it there.” Kika is past asking and has skipped to praying in her native language, eyes squeezed shut. 
“It’s fine. I’ll be fi-”
You’re cut off by police sirens, red and blue light dancing through the windows. Your eyes grow wide as you and Charles shared a panicked look. “Fuck,” Pierre murmurs. “Alright, everyone hold on. I’m gonna step on the gas.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Charles spits out before flinging back against his seat, forced to pull away from you. You’re a mess. Pierre, Pierre, it’s not worth it to die young, you wail.
“We’re making it to that stupid horse!”
Weaving through lanes, all of you slide side to side in your seats. Pull over, a stern voice blares outside of the police car. Your stomach strings into nervous loops. 
“Pierre, pull over,” Kika finally tries as the situation grows more serious.
“I can lose him! Just give me a minute!”
Speeding is nothing new to the two Formula 1 drivers, but to you and your friend it was. “I’m too young!” Kika and you screech when Pierre does a sharp turn towards the exit. A breath of relief escapes Charles' lips when he notices the cop car had lost sight of them. 
Smoothly, Pierre pulls into a dusty parking lot. He grins. 
“Ta-da!”
-
“Sweetheart, did a horse already kick you?”
Icing his newly gifted black eye, Pierre mumbles a low; “Something like that.” 
Icing his newly gifted fist, Charles sarcastically replies; “Something like that.”
The little old lady smiles warmly before leading the group towards the barn. “We have many beauties for you to choose from. All friendly!”
Almost instantly, Kika spots the horse the group almost lost their lives over. “He’s beautiful!” Running over, she pets him as he licks her hand. Pierre discreetly snaps a few pictures. 
“That was really sweet,” you admire. Charles scoffs. Almost dying seems sweet to you? Giggling, you playfully smack his toned chest. “Well, no. But just how hard he tried to get her here…” Kika waves at you both as she climbs onto the tall horse. 
“Yeah,” he mumbles. Leading you further into the cabin, you both pet the row of horses. Behind you, Pierre yells out, Buttercup is a fan favorite! 
And so, you were introduced to Buttercup. Charles' heart did a double take when a bright smile formed itself onto your lips. You were an Angel on Earth.
After going over the basics, you’re able to take Buttercup on a quick gallop around the open field. Attentive, Charles follows by foot. “Are you sure you don’t want to get on a horsy?” 
“Once, when I was a little kid, I fell off one. I was lucky that it was just a pony, but I’ve been traumatized since.”
“Oh.” You try keeping a straight face but can’t help but start laughing. He frowns. “Sorry! I’m just imagining that.” Wheezing harder, you clutch your heart dramatically. He wishes to remember the sound of your laugh. 
“Sweetheart! Just letting you know that no candy should be near the horses! Wouldn’t want them acting up.”
Shooting a quick thumbs up, you nod. Peacefully, you continue laughing and learning more about Charles and you love it.
Strolling over, Pierre pats Charles shoulder as they whisper to each other for a while. Trotting away just a bit, you decide to give them a bit of privacy. A few seconds later, they share a bro hug. 
“Just don’t do anything stupid again,” you hear Charles warn as Pierre bobs his head. Got it.
“They have a cute little shop here so I went to go buy a few snacks, you guys want some?”
Opening a chocolate bar, he extends his arm out as a truce, brown chocolate glistening under the sun. Your stomach drops. 
“Pierre, you fucking di-” Buttercup rapidly spots the candy bar and begins to gallop towards the Monegasque and Frenchman with full speed. Get out of the way, you shriek out as they both make a run for the exit. 
“This place is lovely!” Kika hollers as she inches closer to the commotion. Lost, her gaze flickers to where Pierre and Charles jump over the fence, landing on mud, and you and Buttercup chasing after them. “Oh God, Pierre.”
-
“That’s the thing! You don’t think!”
The fight between Charles and Pierre has been going on for what seems like hours and you were starting to get tired of it. 
“Charles-”
He gently pushes your hands aside before glaring back at Pierre. “What would you have done if something had happened to her, huh? Oh, you would be a dead man-”
“I think he gets it now!” Tugging on his arm, you pull him towards you. “I’m fine. It was fun.” He looks at you skeptical as you let out a light laugh. “Okay, too soon. But seriously, let’s just forget about it! Nothing happened and we still have a full day ahead of us. Let’s not let it go to waste.”
-
“Dirt bike riding!”
“Are you sure?” Leaning against Charles, you massage your temples at the possibility. Given, it sounds like fun, but you really weren’t looking for a broken bone. 
“Always.”
“Be careful,” you say as you tap against Charles' helmet. Only a tiny part of you wanted to join, but decided not to last minute. Kika agreed to stay with you, but deep down you knew she was just as scared. 
Smacking your ass, you jump as he lets out a muffled laugh underneath the black helmet. “Wouldn’t want to die without fucking you.”
Blushing, you push him away. “Go already.” A loud laugh follows as he drifts away. The sight of him wearing all black has your head spinning. Sitting down on a small table, under the shade, you take a sip of Kika’s Coca-Cola. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome?”
Everything carries on smoothly. A few close calls, but safe nonetheless. “I didn’t know they were so good at this,” you ponder, gaze keeping up with the 26 year old. 
“Me either. Honestly - definitely - surprised.” A pink tint fans itself on her cheeks as Pierre bikes by. “I love it.”
“Get a room.” But you aren’t complaining either. This is definitely a sweet sight. Wanna try? Charles calls out. “No, thank you.”
Biking closer, he opens up his visor, green eyes shining through. “I’ll keep you safe,” he tries. You shake your head. “As if you’re my most prized possession. Newsflash: you are.” 
He’s subtle with it, but it’s enough for you to feel as if you’re floating. You just had to be. “Very sweet, but I’m okay.” Leaning close, you kiss his helmet before slamming it shut. 
“Suit yourself, chérie.” You feel as if you’re stumbling over yourself as you watch him glide away. You have to remind yourself that people are around and that there is no room for shenanigans. Dirt crunches underneath your feet as you twirl to face the Portuguese.
“I think I’m in love.” Fanning your face, you let out a breath. She chokes. 
“In lo- excuse me, what?” Shrugging your shoulders, you spin the yellow straw that dips inside your drink. 
“I said I think. Quit acting as if I just said my first words.” Grabbing you by your shoulders, she starts to shake you back and forth. Might as well be! There’s no way ‘you think’! When it comes to you, you always know. Her point has you thinking about your confession. Because she’s right.
You are in love.
What’s there not to love? He’s kind, caring, intelligent, funny, clumsy in a cute manner, he looks out for you (especially when Pierre is near the premises). If anything, it would be impossible not you. Looking up, you see him on the side of the dusty hill, chatting with what looks like to be fans. And he’s just so sweet with them, it only makes you more sure of your sudden knowledge. 
“He can’t know. Not yet.” 
The bike's loud engine is what snaps you out of your thoughts. Pierre waves as he follows after Charles. “That was awesome! Amour, did you see me-”  Amidst of his words, he didn’t pay much attention when he accidentally stepped on the pedal a tad bit too hard, causing him to glide closer to Charles’ motorbike. A loud clash follows as they skid on the dirt, dust causing them to be untraceable for a moment, only bickering coming through.
Hurriedly, you both run over as you wave your hand and cough. Slowly, the dirt settles down, allowing you to see Charles and Pierre on top of one another. They both groan in pain. Charles pushes the Frenchman off him.
“I should’ve known something had to happen.”
-
A few more ideas were thrown out by the blue eyed man but every single one got shut down. “Let’s just get something to eat,” Kika growls. Clicking your fingers, you point at her, agreeing.
And so you and your friends find yourselves in a small restaurant that looks straight out of a Western movie. “Pretty nice, I must admit,” you congratulate. Smirking, Pierre slaps the back of Charles’ head. See? A snarl is enough for him to make a run for it. Giggling, you tippy toe to kiss his cheek. “Does your boo boo still hurt, my poor baby?” Brushing your fingers against his thigh, he flinches.
“Yes, actually, it does. I hate bruises.” Snorting, you throw your head back. He drags you closer to his chest, making you trip over your cowboy boots that he just bought for you. “A kiss might make me forget about the pain though, little lady.” He pretends to tip an imaginary hat.
“Little lady?”
“Bonita? Linda?” Curiously, you quirk a brow. “Carlos…” he explains as you respond with an, Ohhh. Tapping his chest, you slide your fingers through his hair. 
“A kiss you say?”
He smiles. “Or something else, really.” Heat pools in between your legs as you try your best to suppress your moans. But the way he’s looking down at you has you almost running away. You kiss his cheek, lips lingering for a single moment. The hand that presses against his chest is able to identify the way his heart speeds up. 
“Better?”
“I was thinking more here,” he points to his lips, “But that was just as good.” Walking away, you start making your way to where Pierre and Kika sat.
“You never said where.” His eyes follow you, flickering down to your ass, Levi denim short pressed up against you. It should be illegal to look this good. 
“Ahem.” Pulling his attention away, he looks into Kika’s eyes, who scowls back up at him. Shyly, he takes a seat. 
Dinner flew by. Laughter and stories being heard by any bypasser, but it really didn’t matter to any of you. 
“I think his visor broke!” Pierre wheezes as he clings onto the table. Charles shoots a cold glare.
“You broke it with your foot when you kicked me.” This only seems to make his friend laugh harder. The corner of Charles’ mouth slightly lifts up. You continue talking about your day when an older man makes his way to your booth.
“You guys interested in dancing?”
“Hey, man, that’s my girlfriend,” Pierre responds as he looks up at the man. Who does he think he is? he mouths to the rest of you.
“Oh, I don’t mean it like that. Line dancing. Anyone who wants to join is welcome to.” Extending his hands towards Pierre, he introduces himself. “Ben. I’m the owner of the restaurant.” Pierre lets out a nervous laugh.
“Oh. My bad.” Turning to Kika he says, “You want to?” She doesn’t even bother looking at him as she smiles at the older man.
“Yes, of course! She pinches your hips, you yelp in surprise. “You in?” Tight lipped, you smile and nod. You both look over to the F1 drivers. Charles shakes his head.
“Count me out.” 
Pierre nods. “Yeah, me too.”
Sticking her tongue out, Kika grabs your hand. “Okay, losers.” Walking to the crowded dance floor, she jumps up and down. Her excitement eases you as you smile ear to ear. “You know how to line dance?” You nod.
“My grandpa taught me when I was 5.” Cackling, she high fives you as the music starts. You furrow your brows. “Country Girl?” Kika lets out a satisfied sigh..
“Ahhh. Luke Bryan at his finest.” Copying others steps, you both giggle as you stumble a bit at the beginning. Peeking over at the boys, she frowns. “They’re not even looking.” You wave her off.
“It doesn’t matter.” But you can tell she’s itching for a reaction from Pierre. “You flirt,” you tease as you slap her hip. She rolls her eyes, playfully. Pulling her closer, you swing your hands over her shoulders. She tilts her head in confusion. “God gave us hips and an ass for a reason.” Wickedly, she smiles as she lets loose.
Following the beat, you sway your hips before letting go of one another and spinning like the most seductive ballerinas that ever existed. Running a hand through your hair, you begin to drop to the floor, wide eyes staring up at your best friends who just laughs. Gliding back up, your hands dance across her legs. 
“Alright, quit it before I cheat on my boyfriend!” You let out a laugh. “And before Charles kills me.”
“And why would he do that?”
She shrugs her shoulders, tossing her locks over her shoulder. “He looks like wants to kill me and fuck you.” Shocked at her words, you turn to the table and sure enough, Charles’ bruning gaze is directed only towards you. As if no one else existed. Meanwhile, Pierre's mouth is hung wide open. You clear your throat.
“Look at Pierre,” you mumble, trying to get the image of Charles out of your mind. She blushes, sending a kiss over to her boyfriend who smiles suggestively. You shudder. “Gross.” She smacks your cheek softly.
The song ends and you almost wish you could stay dancing forever so there would be no room to see Charles after that. Standing up, he pulls your chair out as you quietly thank him. “Shy now?” His voice is strained, as if he’s trying his best to simply just talk to you, but also filled with tease. You hum.
“Nope.” Your breath hitches when his hand slides onto your thighs. He clicks his tongue. 
“I think you might be.” His hand slides swiftly in between your legs. “Just a tiny bit.”
“I-I’m not-”
“Hey,” a voice kills the moment. Charles' attention flickers to the man that stands in front of you. You smile. “Oh, I saw you dancing…”
“And?” Charles cuts him off, but the guy only ignores him.
“Jaden.” He extends his hand out for you to shake. Hesitantly, you do. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” 
Stuttering you say, “U-um. I-I…” Looking over at Kika, you beg for help as she raises her brows. No thank you, she mouths. Pierre watched it all unfold as if this were a movie. Awkwardly, you clear your throat. “I’m seeing someone actually, sorry.”
The blond clicks his tongue, running his hand through his jaw. “That’s the thing. He doesn’t have to know. He won’t mind.” Charles can’t help but scoff and stand up to his full height. 
“Oh, I think he’ll mind.” It’s almost as if Jaden knew this would tick Charles off as he casually smirked. 
“It’s you,” he says, eyes full of judgment. “I had someone else in mind.”
“Yeah, I don’t care what that might be, but you should leave.” Jaden’s eyes meet yours as he takes a seat on the now open chair.
“Merde,” Pierre whispers.
“What do you say we get out of here? I know a hotel nearby.” 
Frowning at his words you say, “What’s wrong with you?” You’re caught by surprise when Charles reaches down to drag him by the collar. 
“Jaden, is it? I think it’s best if you leave. She’s not interested.”
“Dude, don’t take it personal. Just a quick taste and she’s all yo-” He doesn’t have a chance to finish his sentence when the Monegasque sends a hard punch. He groans, crashing on top of the table. 
“Don’t you dare talk about her at all,” he sourly threatens. Turning back to where you stand with Kika and Pierre, he’s about to check up on you, but that’s before he’s yanked back and hit straight in the ribs. Huffing, Jaden stands over him as he grins.
“Too hard on you?”
Standing up, Charles rolls up his sleeves. “Nope.” Which is how he landed himself in a fiery fight with some wannabe GoldenDoodle. 
“Pierre! Do something!” 
“Y-you’re right!” Jumping in, he tries to pry Charles off as they tumble around. Get off me, Charles mutters. The Frenchman immediately lets go. “H-he said to get off hi-”
“Yeah, I heard.” Desperately, you try yelling for the Monegasque, but it’s almost as if he can’t hear you. Ben, the owner, runs over.
“Darling, if they don’t stop I’m going to have to call the cops.”
“No!” But the moment you see dark blood flowing out of Charles’ lip, you panic. “Fine! Yes! Call them, but hurry, please!”
After what seems like an eternity, when really it was only 5 minutes, the cops show up. “Let go and put your hands where I can see them!” This seems to get their attention as they harshly let go of one another. You let out a breath of relief, Kika hugging your arm. Cuffing them up, they start pulling them towards the exit, boos filling up the small restaurant. Running after them, you tap on the cops shoulder.
“Let him go, please! He was only defending me!” You’re close to crying and this makes Charles feel guilty. It’s okay. I’ll be fine! Just meet me at the police station. Getting closer, Pierre tries to drag you away as you cry. The policeman stops for a moment. 
“You…”  Pierre looked around confused before pointing at himself. Me? Calling for backup, a new officer comes and cuffs the Frenchman. 
“Woah, woah, hey there. What’s this for?” Kika asks, jogging in order to keep up. “Why is he being arrested?”
The grouchy man scowls. “Speeding on a freeway. Sound familiar?”
“It’s alright, Kika! Just meet us in the police station!”
-
“He was driving fast to fulfill my wish, he was only being sweet! And I know he was acting irresponsible, but I swear he won’t do it again.”
Nodding, you push her aside. “And Charles was just protecting me from that dick! Please, he won’t do i-it a-a-again…”
The little old lady behind the desk with a bored expression hums. It’s quiet for a few minutes before she stamps the two papers right in front of her. You both sigh. “Alright. I’ll let them go. But only because I like you both.”
Running up to the guys, you throw yourself on the Monegasque as he lets out a groan in pain. Cradling his face, you press kiss after kiss. “I'm” - kiss - “so” - kiss - “glad” - kiss - “you’re” - kiss - “out.” Smiling, he tucks a stand of hair behind your ear. 
“This is the land of the free, right?” Your glare up at him, biting back a smile. Not funny at all, you pout. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Walking up to you both, holding hands, Pierre smiles. “Want me to drive us back to the hotel?”
-
Flinging onto the bed, you let out a few kick-spasms. “Remind me to never agree to anything Pierre says. Ever.”
Lying down next to you, he closes his eyes. “I know I give him so much crap for it, but he means no harm.” Rolling over to your side, you furrow your brows. “Never again,” he confirms. Sitting up right, you wait for him to do the same. Leaning against the headboard, he smiles softly.
“Thank you,” you begin, “For standing up for me.”
“I would do it over and over again with no hesitation.” Letting out a shaky breath, he scoots you to straddle his lap. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
And maybe it is the heat of the moment, but soon you find yourself leaning down to kiss up. His lips are warm, the way you remember them. Your lips are home, the way he remembers them. Sliding his shirt off, you halt when you see the bruises that cover him. You let out a slight wince. “You know what? Another day when you feel better-” He pushes your hips against his as your eyes roll back with anticipation.
“I feel better already.” And then he’s kissing you again, mind trying to keep up with the way your soft hands slide up and down his chest. Long fingers pinch your shirt, tugging it off. His eyes train themselves on your tits. “You’re a fucking dream.”
Unclasping your bra, his mouth immediately wraps around your left nipple. Whining, you brush your hands against his curls. The way his tongue swirls around your sensitive bud has you pushing his face deeper to your chest. He doesn’t seem to mind, free hand going in to squeeze your other boob.
Grabbing his face, you force him to face you, both your chests heaving up and down. 
“Fuck me. Please.”
Groaning, he throws his head back. Not wasting anymore time, he switches positions, sprawling you against the white bed sheets. He takes his time taking your shorts and panties off before slipping off his jeans and boxers.
The sight of his dick has you nervous for a split second, but that's cut short when you feel his fingers sliding against your walls. You squirm. “That’s it, amour. Let loose.” His large frame towers over you as he spreads your legs out even more. Almost like an instinct, your legs wrap around his waist. He kisses your forehead. “You need to let me know if you’re uncomfortable.”
“Pinky promise, just…please.”
That's all it takes. Thrusting into you, you both let out dirty, sinful moans. It takes all of him to not snap his hips, just the thought alone being too much. 
“You’re so fucking worth it. Worth it all.” Clinging onto his arm, your mind is hazy with the sudden stretch. He’s big and you feel him already brushing against your g-spot. You wonder if you’ll be able to take him.
“Ch-Charles, please move,” you beg, pupils dilated. He starts off slow and you’re almost embarrassed with the way it has you reaching out for him. Begging for more. “F-feel s-s-so good inside of me.”
The way you clench around his cock has him choking on his saliva. “Yeah? Well you feel so good wrapped around me. Warm and-” The sound of his voice has your walls closing around him, even tighter. “...unreal. You can’t be real.”
He lost with the way you squirm underneath him, twisting, almost pulling away, but he keeps a firm grip. “Ch- oh God.” His speed picks up as he fucks your harder. Past boyfriends only put their needs first, but you can tell he was trying to get you to finish first. The realization made your head spin. A tight feeling enters your bottom belly.
Boys? Waste of time. 
Men? He was everything.
Rubbing your clit, he admires you. Close? You open your eyes, soft pants being released, the sound of the headboard rutting against the white wall. “I-I don’t know…” He pinches his brows. You let out a shaky breath. “How should an orgasm feel?”
His eyes widen, hips continue their abuse. “You’ve never had an orgasm?” Bashfully, you let go of his burning gaze, watery eyes focused on his pulsing muscles. 
“Boys…” Letting out a cry, your bite down on his bicep with the sudden brush against your g-spot. He hisses. Your mouth is open with an O as you drool all over him. You whine when he places his hand over your lower belly. You should feel some pressure here.
His voice is deep, raw and so mature. He sounds as fucked out as you feel. “Do you feel something like that, chérie?” Furiously, you nod. “Words. Use your words.”
“I-I-I do.” Those two words have him almost seeing the future. They are slow and weak, but also sure and his. In this exact moment, he swore he would have you repeating those same words, only in a different location. Teary eyes look up at him. “I feel you everywhere.” 
With that you let out a scratched moan as you cum around his cock. The way you arch and squeeze around him is what makes him finish right after. Catching your breath, you look up at him with a twinkle in your eyes. He kisses your bruised out lips.
“You’re fucking perfect.”
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whoslibby · 3 months
Text
simon with a reader who is ill but tries to deny it. you woken up with a sneeze and a cough. shit. you still had training and you were the best solider on the force, of course you weren’t missing it.
as you get to the training course, with a a lot of sniffles and sneezing you stand in front of your lieutenant. he could tell straight away, your eyes glassy from sneezing, a red nose; looking like rudolf.
‘sergeant go back to bed,’ he says and your mouth parts.
‘why? i’m totally fine! i’m healthy,’ you reassure him as he stares at you blankly.
‘go to bed,’ was all he said, you let out a grunt of frustration as you head back to your barracks. getting into your bed, pulling the duvet above your ears.
ghost had set off the others to work before coming back to your bed, he had a cuppa in one hand and a pack of tissues in the other. it wasn’t much but it was an act of kindness.
he placed the cuppa in your hands as you took sips of that familiar yorkshire tea, with atleast four sugars. ‘get some rest,’ he tells you. ‘and don’t go sneezing on my other recruits, I can’t haven’t anymore off.’ the bug had been going around base causing everyone to fall ill.
‘got it,’ you murmur your voice low, feeling exhausted already, he took the cuppa from your hands and placed it on the floor next to your bed as you lay back down.
he sat on the edge of your bed for a moment taking in your appearance, you had always been this tough warrior even he had look up to, and now you were nestled in your bed, with rosy cheeks and a half hoarse voice. it was a change, a good one. his perspective on you was always changing and that was what he had been growing to love about you. you were everything he wasn’t even when ill.
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sipsteainanxiety · 2 years
Note
ROFLLLLLLL imagine having to buy cans of beer just to cope with the emotional damage fmn has inflicted on you HAHAHHAHAHAHAH couldn't be me!! 🤣🤣😁😀😆😆😁😀😆😆🤣😁😀😅😜😁
LDM AKHSDFKJMHAHFKDG if its any consolation i also got emotional damage from writing it LMFAOOO me n u sipping beers, watching the sunset, and contemplating where everything had gone wrong....
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navybrat817 · 7 months
Note
How does Bucky handle you being sick? 🥺
I may have gone overboard, nonnie. 😂
Sick Day
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky takes care of you when you get a cold. He also takes care of the guy who may have given you a cold.
Word Count: Over 2.4k
Warnings: Fluff, humor, established relationship, reader has a cold, implied smut, interrogation, Bucky Barnes being a ridiculously wonderful boyfriend in love (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I don't know where this came from. Maybe a bit of inspiration from @inklore here. 😂❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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When you had a hard time getting out of bed this morning due to a cold you caught at work, you tried to brush it off. Bucky immediately called in to take a personal day and said he had to take care of you, which forced you to take a sick day as well. It was for the best. You had a tendency to push yourself past your limit some days and he kept you in check.
You snatched a tissue out of the box beside you just in time to sneeze into it. With a pained groan, you scrunched up your face and dropped the tissue into the small pile in your lap. It took you a moment to sip your water, followed by your herbal tea. Though your throat was sore, you had to stay hydrated. You also had to get some rest.
Bucky wouldn’t let you hear the end of it if you didn’t.
“I hate this,” you mumbled to yourself before your boyfriend rushed into the living room to check on you, his piercing eyes searching the room as if to assess a threat.
“I heard you talking, baby. You need to rest your voice,” he said, adjusting the humidifier he set on the coffee table before his concerned gaze snapped back to you. “Wait. Do you need something? Do you not have enough blankets? I can get you more tea. Or I can put something on TV. Shit, where’s the writing pad?”
You tried not to smile as the massive shirtless supersoldier bustled around the room. He hadn’t seen you under the weather since the two of you started dating and you should’ve known he’d make a big deal out of it. Whether it had to do with growing up with Steve who dealt with all sorts of ailments or simply because it was his girlfriend feeling less than stellar, you weren’t sure. Either way, it was endearing to see the former Winter Soldier worked up over you.
He had nothing to worry about though.
“I’m fine,” you croaked before you went into a coughing fit.
Bucky’s eyes widened as he crouched beside you and brought the water back to your lips once you had yourself under control. His brows furrowed when he checked your forehead with his right hand, which made you fall in love with him a little more. You tried to tell him earlier to keep his distance so he didn’t get sick before he gently reminded you that he wasn’t exactly prone to catching colds thanks to the serum.
A silver lining from the pain he had to go through.
“You’re not fine. You’re sick. Well, you’re still 'fine',” he smiled a little, making your heart swell. “I used that in the right context, didn’t I?”
You almost went into another coughing fit as you giggled, the sound huskier and deeper than normal. “Only you would think I’m fine when I’m like this,” you said, reaching up to run your fingers through his silky chestnut hair. He hadn’t brushed it today. Too busy taking care of you. “And I’m not ‘sick’ sick. it’s just a cold.”
“It isn’t just a cold. Not to me,” he said, his jaw clenching as his vibranium fingers curled.
“I’ll be better before you know it,” you assured him, raising an eyebrow as his cheek twitched. “What’s the matter?”
Why is he getting himself worked up?
“I just don’t like you feeling any kind of pain,” he said, leaning up so he could press his lips to your forehead. He huffed as they lingered there. “I wish I could take it away and I can’t.”
It was a sweet sentiment, especially after everything he went through.
“I know you would if you could and it’s okay that you can’t,” you said. You understood where he was coming from though because you didn’t like the idea of him in pain either. He had a heart almost as large as his body and you were lucky to get a single ounce of his love. “Don’t worry, okay?”
“You’re my girl and it's impossible not to worry,” he said, a touch of possession and tenderness seeping into his tone. Belonging to him was as natural as breathing. “But I'll try to relax a bit.”
“As long as you try,” you said as he pressed another kiss to your forehead.
Your head tingled from his lips before you frowned. This close, you could usually get a whiff of his woodsy cologne. Your eyes welled up when you inhaled again and couldn’t smell him, doing your best to blink the tears away so he wouldn't catch them. It was silly that you suddenly missed the comfort of that smell because your nose was acting up.
He didn’t need your tears on top of that.
But, of course, he caught your sad sniffle, which sounded slightly different from your cold sniffle. His body stiffened, like a cobra ready to strike. “Tell me what’s wrong, even if I can’t physically fix it.”
God, I love this man.
“I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I really miss the smell of your cologne,” you told him, your gaze probably nothing short of pathetic as you tilted your head to see his handsome face.
Your breath caught when he looked back at you and brushed a tear away with his thumb. There was nothing but love and adoration in those brilliant eyes of his. It made you feel lighter.
“That’s far from ridiculous because I smell amazing,” he teased, bumping his nose against yours to bring a smile to your face. “How about I spray the blankets after you take a nap and I make you some soup? That way my scent will be there even if you can't smell it.”
Tears clogged your throat as you gave him a nod, committing the moment to memory. You were used to going it alone before he came into your life. He couldn’t take the pain away, but he could make you feel better in ways that mattered to you. That likely comforted him just as much as it soothed you.
“That would be great,” you said, yawning a bit. “Can we watch a movie after my nap?”
“We'll watch whatever you want.”
You pulled him close so he could join you on the couch, knowing that his muscular and warm frame against yours would feel just as comforting and safe as the blanket that covered you. And he relaxed and quickly accepted your wordless invitation to wrap his arms around you, keeping you in his loving embrace. It was home and always would be.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, closing your eyes as you nuzzled your head against his bare chest. “I love you.”
“I’ll always take care of you,” he promised, his vibranium hand moving in slow circles along your back as you began to drift off. “I love you, too.”
You let out a happy moan before you said one more thing. “And hunt down the person who gave me this cold, okay?”
With your eyes shut, you didn’t see the determination written all over his face. “You got it, baby.”
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You were right as rain and back to work a couple of days later, thanks to Bucky caring for you and some much needed rest. Not even an hour into your shift though, Steve requested for you to meet him in the second lower level. You didn't hide your surprise as that was usually reserved for interrogations.
Which was exactly why he called you down there.
“What's going on?” You asked as you walked into the viewing room. Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Tony all looked your way, but didn't give you any sort of response. “Seriously, what's up?”
“You don't know?” Natasha responded, nodding toward the glass.
You followed her gaze with a gasp as you saw Bucky tower over some blonde male agent in the cell. Your boyfriend was almost unrecognizable with his face devoid of any emotion, dominant and on the edge of terrifying. It was a far cry from the loving side you were privy to, yet you loved this side of him just the same.
“Buck dragged John down here a few minutes ago,” Steve explained in a quiet voice as he punched the bridge of his nose. “Said something about him hurting you.”
You tilted your head as you looked at John, recognizing him after a second due to his punchable face. “Him? No. He didn't hurt me. He just bumped into me the other day in the break room,” you explained. Which wasn't that big of a deal to you, but probably offensive to Bucky. “But he didn't apologize.”
He also had a cold.
Oh, no.
“So, you had nothing to do with this?” Sam asked, chuckling as you lifted your chin.
“No, I didn't,” you replied as you bit your lip. “At least, I don't think I had anything to do with this.”
Your heart raced faster when Bucky pushed the sleeves of his shirt up and gripped John by the collar, the veins in his right arm popping out. You wished you could lick them. Maybe later.
“I know it was you, you piece of shit,” he said, roughly shoving the agent back into his chair. “You got my girl sick.”
Oh, Bucky.
You stared straight ahead as you felt the group collectively look your way, refusing to react under their stares. “Before any of you say another word, this is definitely not my fault,” you stated.
“Of course it isn't,” Natasha smirked. She knew Bucky loved to play the hero on your behalf even though you could take care of yourself. “Just enjoy the show.”
Your mouth fell open as your boyfriend slammed his left fist on the table, leaving a sizable dent as John nearly fell backwards in his chair. This guy was an agent? He was either new to interrogations or simply scared shitless of the former assassin.
Maybe both.
But you ignored him as you shifted your attention back to your beefy, perfect boyfriend.
When you had mumbled for him to find the person who gave you the cold, you didn’t think he’d actually do it. You weren’t sure how he narrowed down to John, but the former assassin was resourceful and you should've known he'd take you seriously. And, fuck, if it wasn’t slightly mortifying on your behalf and hot as hell watching him in action.
“That cold you gave her made her cry. You made my girl cry. Do you know what I do to guys like you who make my girl cry?” Bucky said through his teeth, bringing his fist down on the table again as John flinched and you smiled. With all the strength he possessed, you never had to worry that he'd hurt you. But you couldn't say the same for the frightened agent. “You're about to find out.”
You didn't think you could love Bucky more after he helped you get over your cold, but he proved you wrong.
And you could now add Bucky threatening people to your list of things that made you dreamily sigh and tingle between your thighs.
“Look, I'm sorry. I’m sorry! All I did was bump into her. It was an accident!” John shouted, putting his hands up in surrender and trembling when Bucky stood to his full height and cracked his neck. Your boyfriend waited a beat before he grabbed one of his hands and began to twist, making the agent pale as you bit back a whimper. “Fuck, stop! I won’t even breathe around her again. I’ll hold my breath! Just let me go!”
“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Tony asked you, taking out his phone to type a quick message as you hummed. Maybe you were enjoying it. How many guys went out of their way to scare someone who possibly gave you a cold? “Does the Manchurian Candidate know how much I’ll have to pay to keep this guy from suing him?”
“We can tell him it was a prank?” Steve suggested, bringing another laugh out of Sam as Natasha shook her head.
Bucky's eyes narrowed as he flung the hand away, his hair falling in his eyes as you held your breath. He looked like a wild animal, untamed and stunning. “I should choke you. Make you see how long you can really hold your breath before you pass out,” he snarled as John rubbed his sore skin.
Steve snuck a glance at you, his cheeks a little pink when you put a hand to your throat. “I don't want to overstep because you're my best friend's girl, but you do know you just moaned, right?” He whispered low enough for only you to hear.
Oops.
“Oh, my god,” you groaned, putting your warm face in your hands to hide your embarrassment for a moment. “Is anyone going to stop him?!”
“Why haven’t you stopped him?” Natasha countered knowingly.
Because I’m too busy thinking of how I’m going to suck his dick so good later that I'll make him see God.
You took a breath as the ache between your legs got stronger and pressed the button beside the glass. “Bucky?”
He swung his head toward the glass and met your gaze even though he couldn’t see you. No matter what, he’d always be able to spot you. “Hey, baby. I found the prick who gave you a cold. Want me to beat the shit out of him?” he bragged as John paled.
“I love you,” you giggled from how sweet and ridiculous he was. “And no. I appreciate you defending me, but I think you can let him go.”
Tony playfully rolled his eyes when Bucky grinned. “Your crazy matches his crazy.”
True.
“Okay. I love you, too,” Bucky said in a light tone, his smile falling the second he looked back at John and smacked the table against the wall with a clang. The agent looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “Next time you see my girl, apologize and walk away. And the next time you have a cold, stay the fuck home or you'll answer to me.”
Yeah. I’m going to suck the soul from his body to thank him for everything the moment we get home.
And maybe the two of you could take another sick day to spend the day in bed.
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Totally normal boyfriend, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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jomteaaa · 14 days
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HEAR ME OUT-- i headcanon that tsukishima kei has a sweet tooth, and absolutely cannot take anything bitter, mainly because his favourite food is strawberry shortcake. so here's an idea:
"i thought you'd like coffee. it's bitter and black, just like your soul." kageyama had stated bluntly one day, and hinata nodded his head in agreement. (tsukishima retorts back about something to do with a milk obsession.) it seems like a common misconception.
you ask him to check out a new cafe that's famous for their coffee with you, and even though he hates coffee with a passion, he finds himself agreeing to it. he is convinced it's because of how excited you look.
he gets a mocha, hoping the chocolate could even out the bitterness of the espresso. he stares at the black liquid in his cup and braces himself. he takes a sip of it, and still winces at the taste. you catch the scrunched up look on his face.
"is the coffee alright?" you ask, and the concern on his face made him feel bad for disliking coffee at all.
"it's fine, i'm just not a fan of coffee." he admits, but waves it off, hoping you wouldn't worry over him. he doesn't expects you laughing though. he raises an eyebrow. "i assumed you were the type who likes coffee, so i brought you here thinking you'd like to try. i actually prefer anything over coffee."
oh.
he lets out a small laugh of his own. "idiot," his expression is softer than his usual cold demeanor. "it's about time we ditch this place then." you two end up getting bubble tea.
also imagine you taking a sip of his drink, from the same straw he had used, and his cheeks burn. when you ask him about it, he simply turns away and denys everything. hfjdgfhihd.
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avis-writeshq · 8 months
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03 — labyrinth
summary: “uh oh, i’m falling in love”/“thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?” pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, slow burn, mutual pining warnings: drug usage & addiction, talks about relapsing, therapy, tobias hankel, talks about weight (not reader’s), panic attack/night terrors wc: 3.8k a/n: as always, special mention to @astrophileous for beta-reading SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST
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“Are you okay?” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you gently lay a hand on Spencer’s forearm. You offer a soft squeeze of reassurance, your gaze meeting his. 
He nods dismissively, averting his eyes but not shrugging your hand away. His tone is cold as he responds, “I’m fine.” 
You know better than to believe him. Ever since his kidnapping a few short weeks ago, he’s been acting strangely. His eyes are sunken, bloodshot most of the time, with dark bags beneath them. He’s lost weight, not that he wasn’t already skinny to begin with, but he’s thinner than usual. He gets distracted more easily, he doesn’t spout out about random facts or statistics, and he’s now almost always irritated about something. 
He’s been spending more and more time at your apartment, not that you don’t blame him. The two of you would spend your mornings at the dining table, eating half-stale cereal and sipping coffee from the premium machine you splurged on a couple years ago. The closeness is nice, and at times it feels a little too domestic to be platonic, but you’ve learned to control yourself around him. 
You open your mouth to say something else (you’re mainly hoping to call him out on his behaviour), but he moves his other hand on top of yours, lightly pressing your fingers. Your mouth goes dry and your cheeks flush at the contact, effectively making you go quiet. He glances at you, his face softening and for a moment you could have sworn you saw the ‘old Reid’ resurface.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear, his voice wavering with each syllable. “I’m fine. I promise.”
Even before you were a profiler, you prided in being able to read people well. Spencer is no exception to this; he’s always been easy to read, and his tells are only obvious to the trained eye. In other words, in your long five years of knowing him, you could smell his lies from a mile away. You don’t comment on it, just allowing yourself to bask in the comfort of his touch and the warmth he exudes. 
The two of you head off to work minutes later, climbing into your car with you in the driver’s seat. He holds your hand the entire time. 
*** 
Spencer thinks he’s going to throw up. The moment he gets onto the plane, he thinks he’s going to hurl. He locks himself into the bathroom, fumbling with the little vials of clear liquid in his satchel. He doesn’t know how long he can keep this a secret for– he’s always been a bad liar– especially from a team of profilers. He gathers that they probably already know.
His vision blurs and his head grows foggy as soon as he feels the liquid enter his bloodstream. He squeezes his eyes tightly, relishing in the artificial feel of serenity when there’s a knock on the door.
“Uh… Spencer?”
Fuck, he wants to scream as he scrambles to put everything back in his bag. Not you. Anybody but you.
“In– in a minute,” he responds hurriedly, flushed and woozy from his high. He feels nauseous again and he wonders if he should actually just throw up to make the story more believable.
“Um, okay? I was a little worried; you’ve been in there for a while. Did you need anything?” You ask again through the door as quietly as possible, glancing at where the team were sitting. “Water? Tea?”
He swings the door open, and his voice is a lot harsher than he expected it to be. “I’m fine.”
He almost misses the way you step back uncertainly, and the way your fingers twitch at your side. Almost. He knows you don’t believe him. He knows that you know him better than anyone and at times it scares him. He feels like Pandora’s Box and it’s only a matter of time before you release the demons within him. His heart lurches as he watches the way your face falls into confusion and hurt– hurt that he is responsible for. 
“I’m fine,” he repeats, softer now. “Just– just tired.”
He watches as you pause and give him a once over. His breath hitches in his throat as he feels your eyes over every inch of him, and for a second he feels incredibly exposed. 
“You know you can talk to me, right?” You say slowly, cautiously, and you reach a hand out to gently graze against his forearm. “I’m here for you.”
The contact is enough to get him to calm down, and his shoulders visibly relax and his eyes close for a moment. He nods, looking at you with a softness he didn’t even know he could muster.
“I know,” he responds, touching his fingers to yours. “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” you respond with a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You pause for a moment before nodding towards the seats of the plane. 
Spencer follows you there, sitting beside you and as he relishes in your warmth and, in your company, he doesn’t feel quite as lost. The nausea begins to dissipate and he suddenly feels a lot lighter– and it’s not because of the drugs. This is different, a better different. A different he could get used to. The pressure from the plane doesn’t seem to affect him as much anymore, and his ears are no longer ringing. 
He leans into your touch, his head pressed against your shoulder and his eyes begin to close. He feels your fingers gingerly hold his own, squeezing lightly in an effort to help him relax. It works. It always works. He feels the way your thumb grazes against the back of his hand and he feels both full of air and breathless at the same time. 
“You okay?” You ask into his hair, continuing to rub your thumb back and forth against his hand. 
He nods, not being able to bring himself to speak. He’s tired, so unbelievably tired, and he thinks that if he speaks he’ll begin to cry. He doesn’t realise that his grip on your hand has tightened.
“I’m not going to leave you.” He hears you whisper, squeezing his hand back.
He only brings himself to nod again, trying desperately to ignore the way his heart flutters in his chest. Uh oh. He’s falling in love.
***
Spencer knocks on your door at half past two in the morning, eyes bloodshot and feeling as if he was suffocating. He doesn’t want to be alone. At least, he doesn’t right now. He would usually enjoy the feeling of solace, considering that it was unlikely he would be able to experience those moments, but lately it feels as though he is lost inside of his own mind. He misses the moments where his head would swirl with unnecessary statistics, or random animal facts that he knows you adore. Now, the only thing stuck in his mind is the rush of the high– and the plummeting feeling of the low.
He holds a breath as he watches your feet come to a stop at the door before the doorknob jiggles and opens. His eyes hesitantly meet yours and he swallows thickly. 
“Can I come in?” He asks, the words barely a whisper. 
“Yeah,” comes your response, and you open the door a little wider. “Yeah, Spence, of course.”
He watches as you boil water and prepare two cups of tea– one chamomile and the other peppermint. He sits on the couch, fiddling with his fingers and his eyes darting around nervously. 
“Spencer.”
Your voice echoes through the room, and suddenly he feels very grounded. He forces his eyes to meet yours and he feels himself stop breathing. Have you always been this beautiful?
“You haven’t been yourself lately,” you say, setting down the cup of peppermint tea in front of him. “Talk to me.”
He laughs humourlessly, sipping at the scalding tea and he grimaces at the burning sensation. “You sound like a therapist.”
“I studied as one,” you counter, dipping your teabag up and down in the cup. “The others… they can’t say anything. But I’m leaving the BAU soon, so I’m technically allowed to ask you this without any federal obligations.” 
“I don’t know–” he begins to deny, but stops short at the way you give him a warning look.
“You’re high right now, aren’t you? And you were on the plane.” Your tone isn’t accusatory, but he expects it from the words that leave your lips. Your gaze softens as you continue. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?”
He flinches and he knows there’s no way out of it. “I tried.”
“I know.”
“I just– I can’t and I want to and I wish that I was… that I was stronger.”
“You are strong.”
He shakes his head. “I should be able to get over this. Get over everything he did to me.”
“Spencer, you were kidnapped and drugged and then you came back to the BAU like nothing even happened.” You pause and lick your bottom lip. “No one is expecting you to get over it, especially not this quickly.”
He doesn’t respond, a strange sense of deja vu filling him at your words and he sits rigid on the couch with his hands in his lap. His eyes don’t leave your face, his gaze shifting from your eyes to the curvature of your nose and then to your lips. For a split second, he wonders how they would feel against his, or how they’d feel against his neck. His head goes heavy at the thought and he pushes them away.
You don’t seem to notice where his eyes have settled, or you’re very good at acting as if he isn’t staring at your face because you continue to speak. “Well,” you say slowly, putting the cup of tea onto the table, “it’s a good thing I’m leaving the BAU then, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know if I can do this job without you,” he confesses, shifting his eyes downcast as he stares into his tea. 
You laugh a little, and he thinks it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. “You act as if I’m dying or something.”
“I’m serious,” he presses, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I want to be happy for you. And I am! But at the same time I feel– I feel so selfish for wanting you to stay.”
He feels you sit beside him and he instinctively leans into your touch, burying his face into the space between your neck and shoulder.
“It’s not your fault, Spence,” you whisper, rubbing comforting circles on his back. “And I’m always going to be there for you. Promise me you’ll remember that?”
He nods deftly into your neck, breathing in the smell of your perfume. 
“Spencer.”
“Promise,” he mumbles, an arm wrapped around your waist. “I know. I promise.”
You hum in acknowledgement. “Good.”
There’s a lull in the conversation, but for once it’s no longer the uncomfortable silence you were tormented with back home. You could feel everything from his hot breath on your neck to the way his fingers squeeze your sides as if you’d disappear if he held you any looser. 
“We still need to talk about this whole issue at some point though. You know that, right?” You murmur into his hair.
“I know.”
“We don’t have to talk about it now.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to stay over?”
“… please.”
***
It has been two weeks since you finished up at the BAU and started work at a clinic, working as a children’s therapist. It’s been a good change of pace for you; a lot slower and much more routinely. The hours are a million times better, and you find that you’re able to get home before seven on most days. The amount of free time that’s been handed to you is something to get used to, now that it’s no longer filled with completing paperwork or getting onto a plane. 
Despite all the positives, it feels strange not seeing your former team everyday. It feels strange not being able to see Penelope’s brightly coloured outfits, or Derek’s dumb jokes. You missed Emily’s sarcasm and JJ’s stories about Henry, and you missed seeing Hotch’s rare smiles whenever he sees someone in his team succeeding. A lot of the time you find yourself craving Rossi’s famous pastas accompanied with special wine. But most of all, you miss seeing Spencer in his element every single day. 
He’s been doing better, or so he says. He’s been going to self-help groups and you’ve been sending him summaries of help books written by former addicts. It seems to have helped because he’s been acting more and more like Spencer Reid than a weird limbo version of him. He still spends a lot of time at your place, sleeping on your couch despite your constant protests. He ends up taking turns with you after you bribed him with multiple chocolate donuts. 
Although he insists that he’s been doing better, his constant night terrors say otherwise and more often than not you find him sweating and sobbing in his sleep. Today is no different.
“Spencer,” You whisper, shaking his shoulder firmly. “Spence!”
He jolts awake, sitting up so quickly he almost knocks his forehead with yours. He groans, his fingers flying to his eyes as he rubs them. Fresh tears slip past his closed eyes, spilling down his cheeks and you pull him into your arms. 
“You’re okay, I got you,” you murmur, rubbing soothing circles against his shoulder blade as he sobs. 
He keeps repeating the words “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t want it” as he sobs against your shoulder, clutching your shirt in the palms of his hands. 
“Breathe in,” you guide gently, running your free hand through his hair, “breathe deep… breathe out…”
He takes in a shaky breath before exhaling through sobs but he continues to follow your guide. He wraps around you tightly, taking deep breaths in before releasing them. After a few minutes of steady breathing, he finally speaks.
“I relapsed yesterday.” 
He expects you to push him off and start screaming. He expects you to start yelling at him for not being able to control himself and for wasting all his progress. He reckons he deserves it. But you don’t do any of those things. 
“That’s okay,” you respond, squeezing his hand. “Have you talked to Meredith about it?”
Meredith Gray is a therapist you introduced Spencer to. She’s a good friend of yours and specialises in addictions as well as post traumatic stress disorder, and she even wrote her final thesis about it. Even though you work in different fields, the jobs cross over a lot when there’s speculation that a parent could be sick. After explaining the situation to her, Meredith was more than willing to take Spencer as a client.
Spencer shakes his head, the guilt creeping into his chest and lacing his words. “No… I have an appointment with her tomorrow though.”
“Okay, good,” you nod, continuing to rub soothing circles on his back. “Relapsing is normal. It’s just another step to healing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologise.”
“But–”
“It’s normal,” you repeat firmly. “You acknowledged it, and you told me. That’s good, Spence, better than most people.”
He’s quiet, his nose brushing against the soft skin of your neck before he speaks again. “Did you know I’m scared of elevators?”
You can’t help but laugh at the change of conversation and you squeeze his hand. “No, I didn’t.”
“Morgan and I got caught in one the other day. On a case,” he muses. “On average, elevators are inspected once or twice a year, but some could go up to three years without inspection. There are approximately ten thousand elevator related injuries per year, and twenty seven deaths.” 
“Now I’m never going into an elevator again,” you respond with jest, poking his cheek. “It’s late. Take the bed, Walter.”
He huffs. “It’s your turn.”
“You need it more than me.”
“I’m not fragile.”
“I never said that you are.”
“(Y/N).”
You give him a pointed look. “Spencer.”
He stares at you for a moment, holding your gaze before he swallows and looks away. You watch the way his Adam Apple bobs in his throat and you suddenly feel faint. 
“Take the bed, Walter,” you repeat, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Please?”
He says your name again, and he reaches up to rest his fingers against the collar of your pyjamas. Your breath hitches and you can’t help the way your cheeks grow warm and your head starts to spin. His touch is gentle, his fingers brushing against the skin of your shoulder. You resist the urge to shudder as you relish his skin against yours.
“Stay with me,” he murmurs, pleading, and his eyes glance from your collar to your eyes. 
“You hate sharing beds,” you remind him.
His thumb grazes against your jaw and his face is so close to yours you could count his eyelashes. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that he was going to kiss you. But you do know better, so you avert your gaze and push the thoughts out of your mind. An indescribable look flickers on his face but it is gone as quickly as it had appeared. 
“It’s okay if it’s you,” he says earnestly, and you find yourself agreeing because how could you say ‘no’ to that?
You climb into bed, one leg outside of the covers because everything felt so warm, especially with his arm wrapped around your middle and his breath against your shoulder. The thin line between platonic and romantic love has blurred indefinitely now, and at times like these you feel as if it has disappeared entirely. Guilt creeps into your veins as you feel him bring you closer to him, his nose buried into your shoulder. Is this considered coercing? He’s in the middle of healing, working towards sobriety, and here you are taking advantage of his vulnerability. Well, technically you’re not ‘taking advantage’ of him if he seeks you out first but it still feels inherently wrong. Morally wrong, maybe. 
It takes you another thirty minutes to fall asleep, your head rushing with thoughts and questions as you do. He’s gone when you wake up in the morning.
***
“Someone is looking happy,” Derek comments with a teasing grin, slinking an arm around Spencer’s neck. 
It has been about a week since the ‘sleep in the same bed’ incident and he was promptly whisked away to a case in Nevada. He felt guilty about the whole ordeal, considering he wasn’t in his right state of mind at the time. It still made him feel like a sleazy college student who had a one night stand with some random person and then bolted (even though there was no contact of that sort that night). Despite his initial guilt, his head is spinning with the sheer peace and comfort that he experienced when he was sleeping in the same bed as someone. And that someone was you! He could barely even believe it. It all felt so right and perfect… and the way you would shuffle closer at times… it was enough to get his heart racing (he thinks that it’s terribly cliche and horribly cringe-worthy, but therapy has told him that he needs to ‘embrace’ his gross sappy feelings).
“What? No– I mean yes but–”  Spencer coughs in response to Derek’s teasing, clutching the strap of his shoulder bag. 
Derek cackles at his fumbling, grinning ear to ear. “Alright, so… is it a girl?”
“What?!” He shrieks, his voice raising by two octaves as he does. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“Oh so there is a girl,” Emily joins in with a smirk.
“There is– there is no girl,” he responds briskly, his cheeks burning in embarrassment.
Derek hums in thought, a mischievous look in his eye. “Did you catch up with Lila again?”
“No!” Spencer bristles at the thought. Ever since he almost destroyed his friendship with you over her, he hasn’t even bothered to give her a call. “I haven’t seen her since her since– since her case.”
“What about that girl you picked up at a bar?” Emily offers with a sly laugh. “What’s her name again?”
“Austin,” Spencer recalls instantly, his cheeks flaring up again as soon as she says her name. “B-but I haven’t spoken to her either!”
JJ rounds the corner, all too happy to join in the fun (much to Spencer’s chagrin). “I bet it’s (Y/N),” she says with a knowing smirk. 
Spencer considers his brain to be a well oiled machine of facts and logic. It’s one of the only things he could rely on– and the only thing people seem to respect him for. As of late, his ‘well oiled machine’ hasn’t been functioning as well as he would have liked, but that doesn’t mean it’s not functioning at almost full capacity. But JJ’s comment, no matter how well functioning his brain was, rendered him speechless. 
“Looks like you hit the nail on the head, JJ,” Derek cackles, clapping Spencer’s shoulder. 
He lets out a small grunt at the contact, almost stumbling over his feet before he catches himself. “There is nothing going on between (Y/N) and I. We’re just friends.” The words taste bitter on his tongue and he resists the urge to cringe.
“Sure,” Emily says with a short laugh. “Totally believe you. How long did it take for you to realise you’re in love with her?”
JJ snickers along. “Yeah, before or after you had that make out session with Lila?”
Spencer groans at their relentless teasing, covering his face with his hands as they walk along to the bullpen. They’re definitely a lot calmer once they enter their official place of work, but it still doesn’t stop the way they poke fun at him through sly smiles and tasteful words. 
“There’s nothing going on between us,” Spencer reiterates with a frown. “She knows just how difficult this job is; she doesn’t deserve to have to deal with it again.”
“Isn’t she the one who’s supposed to decide that?” Emily asks gently, no more teasing in her tone. She’s always been good at giving advice.
He pauses at that, a frown etched upon his features. His mind rushes with memories; the constant leaving, the torture, the trauma, the drugs… his fingers run through his hair. 
“It’s not a good time right now,” he explains softly.
“When will it ever?”
He doesn’t meet her gaze.“I don’t know.”
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Thinking about getting assimilated into the retired 141 polycule.
You find Gaz and Soap first. Entirely by chance, they’re sat at the bar when you go up to order a drink.
It’s a busy night. You have to wait a moment for your order to be taken, so you strike up conversation with the two cuties you’ve come across. They seem sweet, charming and don’t mind that you interrupted their conversation.
Eventually, the bartender brings over your refill, and as you go to leave, you say, ‘one more for them, on my tab.’
Soap tilts his head, ‘shouldn’t we be the ones buying you a drink?’
You shake your head, ‘not here, you’re not,’ before wandering back to the table your friends are at.
The next week, they’re there again, and preempt you, by buying a round for your whole table, just to be polite, y’know? And, y’know, you kinda need to come up to the bar with them, to make sure all of the orders get put in right.
A flimsy excuse, but it gets you away so they can chat with you some more. You wait at the bar again, this time with one of them on either side of you, chatting about how your week was, (only yours, since, ‘we don’t get up to much, doll. Least, nothing we can say in polite company’) until the drinks come out and you take them back the the table. They trail behind you, then manage to find seats where they can stay at your side.
Gaz and Soap stay there all night, through each round, each bar hop, queuing for the bathroom with you, always right there on either side, right up until it’s time to go home.
As your friends split off into taxis, Gaz offers for you to go back to their place. Soap reassures you that there’s no pressure, only if you want to, and you kiss him before he can finish saying the words. Gaz pulls you apart to get a kiss of his own, pulling you close as Soap protests about being interrupted.
The walk back to their place and everything after is a blur. You wake up in the morning, sandwiched between two bodies, who are whispering back and forth over your head.
You peel the sheet from your face and glance up, to see Soap on the phone.
‘What’s up?’ Your voice is hoarse, your throat parched.
‘Nothing, doll. Just making sure our breakfast actually gets made.’ Soap pinches your nose, sending you squirming away into Gaz’s arms.
‘You’ll stay for it, right?’ Gaz murmurs to you, dragging you away to sit up, pressing a glass of water into your hands.
You sip it, as Gaz steadies your shaking form. ‘Course.’
‘Good. You want chips or bacon? Keep your tits on Simon, I’m asking them now.’ Johnny hushes his voice when he speaks into the phone, keeping the harshness directed to Simon, on the other end of the line.
‘Chips.’ You say, letting Gaz push one of his shirts over your head as someone knocks on the door.
‘Yeah, John?’ Gaz glances over his shoulder.
‘Does our guest want tea?’ a husky voice, John’s, comes from the other side of the door.
‘Tea, or coffee?’ Gaz asks you.
‘It’s tea, or no tea,’ comes John’s voice again.
‘Fine, cap. Tea for everyone.’ Gaz rolls his eyes, setting the water aside before pulling you off the bed, leaving soap to flop down on the covers where you just were.
‘If you want coffee, I can make you some.’ Soap pouted as he missed his chance to grab you, instead scrambling up to make himself decent as Gaz set you down.
‘Who was that?’ You nod towards the door.
‘That’s John. We all used to be in the military together, so we call him cap. You’ll like him.’
‘You sure?’ You say, as soap passes you a pair of shorts (on closer inspection, a pair of his boxers) for you to put on.
‘Course. Me and Gaz have good taste.’ Soap taps your shoulder, pulling you towards the door, unsure if the good taste was about the as of yet unseen John and Simon, or you. ‘Come on, Si will be back with food any minute now.’
[part two]
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