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#that game is severely slept on
qi-rong-enjoyer · 2 years
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ok ok ok because I have no self control and I must combine my current two favorite things right now: tgcf, but witch's heart au. please please please please please.
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mcrololo · 2 months
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I'm replaying horizon zero dawn and something just hits different about the game now that I have more life experience and go through life a little bit more consciously. Aloy not being born from a loving mother, causing her to be an outcast by her own tribe (the Nora) who believe in Mother Earth as their one true Mother, truly no longer can be outrun as something incredibly and profoundly painful when you, yourself, have realized you never truly were loved by a mother figure in your life.
And then the quest you get in the hunters lodge, where you meet Talanah, and Aloy bonds with her and tells her she somewhat understands being treaten like trash. The lines "Now everywhere I go I am Aloy of the Nora. It should be Aloy despite the Nora" runs deep, because not only does she acknowledge that she has lived through all the pain, but she also decides to rise above all that by traveling the world and helping others wherever she goes. Despite what the Nora have put her through, despite being shunned and never getting a helping hand herself, despite not knowing who she is... She is Aloy, at the end of every damning day. And that's all there is to it.
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z-1-wolfe · 11 months
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tfw there’s no quick carbs so you eat a slice of bread and wait for it to kick in while you lie down on the floor
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runawayballista · 1 year
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GOD COMPLETELY UNDERSTANDABLE! The game takes a lot out of you emotionally, but that's also why it's so gooddd. Do hope the animal crossing will help a bit with the onslaught of feelings (tm)
i think my mistake was trying to power through the final part of the game last night and not realizing how long it was. which i like! it takes its time and lets you really steep in everything going on. it is also impressive how it is simultaneously one of the most unsettling horror games i've played and also one of the most heartfelt and (i'm assuming, once i get there) cathartic stories about friendship, both in the omg the POWER OF FRIENDSHIP sense and also about what it means to exist in a vacuum without it. it's too early for me to be articulating my emotions but there is SO much happening in this game and yet the only times it gives me a sense of whiplash is when it is intentional. the balance is really interesting, the pacing is REALLY compelling, and its moments of sweetness and comedy don't take away from the gravity or the horror, nor do they feel contrived or at odds with everything else. an impressive house blend
i'm really glad this is the form omori ultimately took. it's not a novel observation to note that the agency granted to the player in video games can have an intensifying effect on its message. the sense of responsibility imposed on you by your limited choices is truly what makes this game (even if i would kill to see more of it in that hand-drawn animation). there is a 2006 quote i really like by will wright, creator of the sims:
"People talk about how video games don't have the emotional impact of movies. I think they do--they just have a different palette. I never felt pride, or guilt, watching a movie."
again: not a novel observation at all by the year 2023, but omori is one of the strongest proofs of that argument i've ever played. and im not even done yet!
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moodr1ng · 5 days
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ive always been told id be the first person to die in a horror movie bc im always like "omg yay lets use a ouija board" "we should totally do this evil summoning ritual we found online" etc. and all my friends are like "we shouldnt do that in case of the horrors" and im like boo this sucks. whatever though. i think its just another of my endearing qualities.
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teamkrissy · 7 months
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I'm finishing my 2nd playthrough and expected the beginning of act 1 to be the part I rush through, but really it's act 3. Theres just no rewards for completing things. Maybe someone will have 1 line to say after killing a big boss. I hit top level 10 minutes after reaching the city and the xp counter disappeared. The side quests have no clues and no options for peaceful resolution. You find out why you had to kill them from reading the final quest notes after the fact. I keep thinking "oh today after work I'll finally be through the slog and get the endings I was robbed of on my first playthrough (the game crashed 2 min in to the final cut scene so I still haven't seen a full ending)" but no, I have x y and meaningless z still to complete. Maybe I'll finish it by the end of the week and finally get back to the good part, the beginning.
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kasagia · 5 months
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Losing your memory
Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: He used to be your Coryo. Now he has become the man you don't know. The Plinth heir. The future president of Panem. You pray every day to forget about the sweet boy you fell in love with, on whom you could always count. To forget who he was and lose the memory of the past. Just like he did. Well... not exactly. Unfortunately for you, he still wants to remember you. Inspired by: "Losing your memory" by Ryan Star Word count: 7,2 k ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~
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You've been avoiding him ever since you found out he was back in the Capitol.
A month ago, this news would have aroused great joy and ecstasy in you. Your Coryo is back home. He managed to shorten his exile and gain Dr. Gaul's favour again.
But the man who returned from District 12 was not your dear friend or lover. This wasn't your sweet Coryo, with whom you walked hand in hand to school. This wasn't the boy you shared your lunch with. This wasn't a boy who cared about your well-being above his own. This wasn't a boy who joked about snobbish children spoiled by the richest people in Panem with you and Sejanus at the end of the day. (Although he talked with them, trying to keep up good appearances—he used to call that one of the responsibilities of being Snow.)
The man who came back was Coriolanus. The new Plinth heir. The shell of someone you knew. The ruthless, cold pet of the mad creator of the Hunger Games you despised.
Sejanus' death didn't hurt you as much as the transformation of Coriolanus from the person closest to you into someone you barely even recognized. And from the tearful, sad, resentful, and disappointed stories you heard from Tigris, you had an accurate picture of the man who took your Coryo's place.
And you hated him with all your heart.
Especially after what he promised you when you stayed at his apartment for one snowy winter night.
You lay wrapped in the various blankets and quilts Coryo and Tigris could find. It was winter, and they didn't have much money for additional heating, so they mostly walked around the house in several layers and slept under piles of clothes.
You didn't know about that that night.
Tigris lent him her quilt so that he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the poverty his family had fallen into since you were supposed to come to sleepover with him after the argument with your parents.
Cuddling up to your blonde boy, you tried to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat. You frowned at the sound of it being a little faster than usual.
You lift your head and look at him carefully. His gaze is distant and thoughtful as he lazily draws patterns on your back as he presses you against his chest.
"Coryo?" you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand tenderly and forcing those blue irises you have loved so much to look at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
He sighs long and presses a kiss on your forehead, the tip of his nose stroking your hair, as he is inhaling your scent. "I just... I just think about the fact that you deserve so much more. My grandma and Tigirs deserve much more than... this." he says with disgusting pointing at the room you were in.
"This..." you say, clasping your hands together and pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand. "Is more than enough. You are all I need. And one day, when you are President of Panem or any other important figure in the Capitol, none of you will lack anything. This is a temporary state. You are too smart to be anything less than great, Coryo. You know it."
You see him hold back tears. He pushed your head onto his chest to rest his chin on your head. He is not crying. He almost never cries. But you know how close he is to it by the slight quiver in his breathing.
"I know I don't show it often enough... but you mean... everything to me. I can't imagine how I would go through these all without you by my side."
"I love you, Corio. Just promise me you won't forget this. What you went through, what you experienced. Don't forget your struggle. That's something you should never be ashamed of." he tenses at your words but leans in to kiss you passionately and hungrily. Putting all his unexpressed emotions into action and into that kiss that warmed you more than any blanket or radiator could ever.
"I promise. I will never forget how you kept me sane. When you were the only shelter I could go to and the only support that could bear the boundlessness of my troubles and doubts. How you were my only moonlight in the worst of my darknesses." you laugh softly, recognising part of his words.
"Quoting poets will get you nowhere, Coriolanus Snow." you say teasingly, rubbing your nose against him, at which he chuckles, licking his lips.
"Well... I've learned that in some situations, it gets me somewhere. And it's a very cold night tonight, don't you think? I can't let you freeze to death." he says as his hands go under your shirt—actually, his shirt that you stole from his closet.
"Well… I guess there's nothing left for me… but to place myself under your solicitous care." you sigh softly as he pins you underneath him, making sure the cocoon of blankets is still tightly wrapped around the two of you.
"I couldn't have said it better." he whispers and presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath countless times. He pulls away just a little to say against your lips, "You're mine. We belong together. No matter what."
He makes you shiver as you eagerly agree to everything he says. You don't realise how, in the future, you will curse every single intimate, sweet moment you shared with him.
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Ironically, you realise how deep he has gotten under your skin the moment he returns to the Capitol, and you have to avoid him, not when he is sent into exile.
It was probably because when he was gone, you were too distraught to bother leaving your room, opening the blinds, or wiping the tears that somehow kept leaking from your eyes to notice how almost every place reminded you of him. If you could, you'd go back in time and tell yourself there's no point in crying over the asshole he's become.
Although maybe you already felt that your Corio was leaving, and it was a way of mourning him?
Anyway, you saw him everywhere. Not Coriolanus. Coryo. He stalked you in the library, the park, the cafe near the academy that you two and Sejanus liked to go to, and of course the Academy itself. Kudos to your parents for not letting him into your house. At least he didn't pollute your room with memories of him.
Involuntarily, you wonder if he also sees you, for example, in every corner of his apartment. Or maybe he renovated it beyond recognition to erase all traces of his past?
You didn't know.
And you didn't want to know.
The information about him that Tigris gave you when you met her at your house when Coriolanus was at the university for classes was sufficient.
Just because it didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean you would abandon your only real friend. And just because things didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean she would stop (more or less subtly) encouraging you to go back to him.
"We talked about you." she says, making adjustments to your dress that she made for your birthday party thrown by your parents. Another one of the unpleasant responsibilities.
"You and your grandma?" you ask, trying to avoid HIM as a topic as much as possible.
"No. Me and Coriolanus." she says, pinning something to your waist—some decorative strip of fabric or something—you're not sure; you're too focused on the window and the bustling city as you are trying to ignore her words. "You know… I think… I think I saw in his eyes… the old Coryo. For a brief moment, but… maybe if you came back to him, he would come back to himself too."
"I'm sorry, Tigris, but I think he went too far on his path to simply go back to who he was. Surely not because of me."
"I understand… I just really miss him." she says it in a soft, broken tone, and your heart breaks at it. You hug her with all your strength, uniting with her pain that you also felt so deeply.
"Me too." you whisper in her ear as she cries into your shoulder.
Tigris was a very strong woman. She always impressed you. You wanted to be as strong as her. But even the toughest had to cry sometimes.
After all, there comes a time when even the snow melts... even if only for a little while.
You held him tightly in your arms as Corio cried into your chest.
His grandmother fell ill. Hard. Without a doctor, she definitely wouldn't be able to get out of this on her own, and they didn't have the money to pay for one, let alone the medicines.
Your boyfriend spent the whole day planning, thinking, and getting any money, but it was not enough even to buy the cheapest antibiotic.
However, you didn't expect that after you found out it all from Tigris and ran to him as fast as you could with the chicken soup prepared by your servants and all your pocket money, he would start crying.
Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.
You handed the money and soup to Tigris, who, after feeding up their grandma, quickly ran out with her to the doctor. At that time, you were holding your boyfriend in your arms in the other room, who simply fell apart from his helplessness.
"Shh… it's going to be okay, Coryo. She will live, falsify that stupid hymn and hate me for not being enough for you just as she used to." your attempt to comfort him didn't help. If anything, he only cried more, holding onto you tighter and tighter.
"I should be able to take care of them... I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I'm pathetic and weak. I'm not worthy of being called Snow."
"Hey, my sweet boy, look at me. You are strong. You are the strongest man I know. You are looking after me all the time; you literally give me everything you have, the last piece of your food, to keep me happy, safe, and full when I forget to bring a damn second breakfast from home or don't have time to eat something. You love me, and I love you, and that's how it works. We care about each other. And I have never, ever regretted being with you. Because what we have… is more valuable than anything else in this world. I trust you implicitly, and I will always be by your side. You are not alone with your problems and suffering. Not as long as I am here."
"But for how long will you stay? For how long will you endure with me?" he asks, and after one look at those a little red from crying, beautiful blue iris, you answer without a shadow of hesitation.
"As long as you love me and I can trust you. As long as I breathe. As long as I am in your mind and heart. I am not going anywhere, Coryo. Money can be earned, but what we have... you can't buy it. What I feel for you is more dear to me than any treasure in this world and I will never exchange it for anything else." you promise, stroking his hair tenderly to help him calm down.
You should've then wondered why he doesn't agree with you then. Why doesn't he say that he also feels this way and that he also values you more than money, glory, and honours?
But he blinds you by telling you for the first time that he loves you.
And you cling to him, wiping the tears from his face with your lips and foolishly believing that your love is pure and eternal.
Like a driven snow.
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You knew this day would come someday. The day you let your guard down. But you hoped it would take a little longer before you came face-to-face with Coriolanus.
You are completely unprepared for this. You just freeze like a deer in headlights when you see his face at the end of one of the university's corridors as he walks forward, looking for something in his bag. Before you can even think about running away, he looks up, probably feeling watched, and his blue, icy eyes meet yours.
You both stand there transfixed, looking at each other, taking in the changes in your appearance since the last time you saw each other, which was after you broke up with him, when you saw how tenderly he treated Lucy Gray and how comfortable he was around her. And after someone politely informed you that he had kissed her.
"Y/N!" Coriolanus calls out to you and takes a step towards you, but you quickly step back and run through the crowd of people to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up that easily. He never does. "Y/N! Wait!"
You have no intention of doing so. You run as fast as you can, bumping into several students along the way. You don't even bother apologising; you just run, hoping that Snow will stop being hot on your heels. Which, by the way, was a miserable dream after how fit he was after his training and the time he spent as a peacekeeper.
On the way, you notice a woman's bathroom and immediately run into it. You lock yourself in a cabin, thanking God or whoever is up that you managed to get an empty cabin and hide in it. You hear his quick footsteps and the door opening, followed by the screams of other women in the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you hear him obediently leave the room.
You're not leaving, though. You are not stupid. You know he's waiting at the door for you to come out. You decide to wait here until the end of the break between classes and hope that he will drop the idea of continuing to chase you and talk to you, and he will attend the lecture instead.
As the bathroom begins to empty, you realise that the next lectures must be soon. You stand silently on the toilet seat, listening carefully, waiting for the right moment to emerge from your miserable hiding place.
Just as you are about to reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door opens. You shiver as you hear heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles of the empty bathroom. And you think that you can smell the subtle scent of roses in the air.
"Come on, Y/N. I know you're here. I just want to talk."
Said the snake moments before eating the bird alive.—you think, mentally mocking how gentle he was trying to present himself. As if he could still be your Coryo.
"I have time. I can play hide-and-seek with you, if you want to. After all, you always liked to play this when we were kids. And you always lost."
You roll your eyes, listening carefully to his footsteps. He was opening the first cabin. You were in the middle one—the one a little closer to the door (and him).
"We'll have to talk eventually. You can't avoid me and ignore me, no matter how good you are at it lately. Let's stop this ridiculous, childish behaviour and go talk over coffee and some of your favourite cookies at the cafe near the academy. Just like the good old days. Well, this time all your orders are on me. What do you say?"
You would have snorted if it hadn't immediately revealed your hiding place to him. How dare he invite you to the place where you, he, and Sejanus spent the most time? To the place where your first unofficial date was.
He wanted to manipulate you, to make you believe that your Corio is still there and lives behind the façade of the rich, arrogant asshole he has become. But you knew better. His eyes told you everything you needed to know.
Even without Tigris' help, you realised that he... was a completely different person. He turned into somebody you only used to know in the past.
"Seriously? Still nothing? So you prefer the hard way, then..." he says, opening another cabin. You wait patiently for him to come to yours.
You breathe as quietly as you can, trying not to let him know which cabin you're in. You listen to his slow, measured steps as, with the incredible confidence and calm that is typical of him, he opens each cabin door, moving inexorably towards you.
Your heart quickens, beating madly, when you see his shoes in the whole, under the cabin's door. He reaches for the door handle, and before he can open it, you push the door against him with all your strength.
You hear him curse, taking a few steps back in a daze and holding his nose. You take the opportunity and run to the exit of the bathroom as fast as you can, not looking back.
"Fuck! Y/N! Are you insane?!" he shouts, running after you.
You reach the door just in time and slam it behind you, sprinting out of the university. You get in your car and drive away with your tyres screeching. In the rearview mirror, you see him leaving the building and following your car with a furious glare.
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"I can't believe you invited Snow." you huff, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Your father is buttoning his cuffs, and your mother stands next to you, also putting the finishing touches on her appearance. "You hated him when we were together."
"He is an ambitious and clever boy. Plinth did well to make him his heir. You should reconsider whether he really is that bad. This match would have opened many doors for us. Not only among Plinth's allies but also among Dr. Gaul. God knows how she favours this boy. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be president of Panem."
"If so, I will run away abroad." you say it bitterly, putting your lipstick back in your purse and adjusting the necklace around your neck to make yourself look perfect.
"Don't be stupid. Snow wouldn't be so bad for you. Since you are our only child, we must marry you well. Make sure your husband doesn't blow our fortune in a week. And Snow is a thoughtful boy. He wouldn't let you live below the poverty line."
"And he's quite handsome." your mother adds, straightening your father's tie. "Still, he's not a womaniser. I heard he turned down the... special attention of Crane's daughter and a few other Capitol's girls. I guess he's been alone since your breakup."
"Hmm. Great. He wouldn't cheat on me with other snobs in the capital, but he would fuck with whores in the district. The perfect candidate for a husband." you scoff, walking with them to the next room, where the photographers were waiting to take a photo of you together.
“Language, Y/N. You are a lady. Besides, it is not certain whether he and this Lucy Gray actually had something between them. After all, she's a woman from the district.” your mom says this, smiling for the cameras.
The flashes blind you a little, but with your father's and mother's hands on your shoulders, you somehow manage to keep your pose, fake, pretty smile, and opened eyes.
Your father thanks them and leads you out of the room and into the corridor leading to the great hall where the ball was to be held.
"And even if he did, it's good that he had some fun. It will make him appreciate the treasure that you are and see that you are irreplaceable." he says, taking the box out of his pocket. He hands it to you with a warm smile. "Happy birthday, my treasure."
"We've already given her..." your father shushes your mother. You send them a confused look as you open the medium-sized box.
You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.
"It will match your dress perfectly." your father says proudly. You nod and walk to the mirror to put it on, despising the object in your hands with all your heart. You may look like a princess, but you've never felt so... disgusted with yourself before.
This feeling intensified even more when, after a toast and receiving wishes from several of your friends and more powerful families, you managed to sneak out to the balcony. Not long after you, all the single, young men of the richest family on the Capitol entered, with Coriolanus among them. They each took a cigarette and started smoking, gossiping about the events of the week…
And their topic of conversation was exactly what you were afraid of when you got that fucking tiara.
"Have you seen this? I bet they're pure diamonds. Old Y/L/N wants to marry her off so much that he's using every trick possible."
"He doesn't need to do much. She is beautiful in her own right. But this character… it's easier to train a dog than such a stubborn cow."
"What Snow? Are you now regretting that the Capitol's Diamond slipped from your hands? I heard she wants nothing to do with you. How unfortunate that it happened at the moment when you started to count in the eyes of the elite, and now you really have any chance of grabbing this precious gem for yourself."
The Capitol's Diamond. You shudder, thinking about the nickname you've been given.
That's what they called you. The sole heiress to your parents' fortune. Diamond of the Capitol, the best match in the city, with a dowry greater than any other woman. Anyone who won your hand was guaranteed to reach the top and success with your family's connections, your charm, beauty, and brain. And these vultures knew it perfectly well.
You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.
Your Coryo only took advantage of your position in society when he had to. He didn't ask you for money or for you to convince your father to whisper a good word about him here and there. Maybe it was because of his pride; maybe he really didn't care. You have no idea. But Coryo despised that term as much as you did. You wondered if that had changed as well.
"I'm still in the game." he replies evasively, sipping his drink. The others laugh and he frowns in displeasure.
"Sure. Because the way she ran away from you today when you approached her with a gift says exactly that." they mock him. You see him clench his jaw, glaring at them coldly as he considers his next move.
"Enjoy it while you can. Your good mood will end when our cat-and-mouse game is over and the Capitol's Diamond hangs proudly on my shoulder." you huff, shaking your head in disbelief. You come out of hiding, and all the men on the balcony tense up and look at you in surprise.
Especially Coriolanus. Suddenly everyone is staring intently at the garden of your estate, too shy to look at you. Except Snow. He drills a hole into you with his gaze as he thinks of a way to undo what he said.
"Gentlemen." you scoff, walking past them and ignoring Coriolanus' glare. "For your information, I would rather live in one of the districts than marry any of you. Enjoy the party." you add sweetly, walking back to the ballroom.
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The party is in full swing. You are talking to Thomas, using a sweet boy in a shameful way—to scare other men away from you. Just as you expected, they started flocking to you like flies to a fire.
So you chose the least spoiled of them. Thomas was nice and funny; you had a good time talking to him, and dancing with him was even better.
He wasn't rich; he wasn't part of the cream of society. You were really starting to enjoy spending time with him. And most importantly... he looked nothing like Coriolanus. He was nice for the eyes, but his dark hair, eyes, and sweet, shy personality made him drastically different from your ex. So he was the perfect break from your dramatic love life. Boring, nice change.
You danced to a waltz with him. He held you gently, close but respectful, not invading your personal space. He was a perfect gentleman. The man of your dreams.
If only Coriolanus' icy eyes weren't focused on both of you like a predator waiting for its prey to stumble, you would be able to enjoy Thomas' company to the fullest.
You are with him at the buffet, sipping drinks, when suddenly the last person you expected to meet here approaches you.
"Mrs. Plinth." you whisper in shock as he stands in front of you.
She looks—probably the way she feels. Nice on the outside and devastated on the inside. The dark circles under her eyes cannot be fully covered by makeup, and the deep black of her dress is a clear reminder of what she is still going through.
You can't imagine the pain he's going through right now. And you wonder why the woman decided to join her husband for your birthday party. Since Sejanus' death, she has rarely left their apartment.
"Y/N. Can I steal you from this young man for a moment?"
"Of course." you say, not even looking in Thomas' direction as you and Mrs. Plinth walk to one of the empty living rooms in your mansion. You close the door behind her and point to the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Or to eat?"
"No. There is no need, darling. I just… I just came here to give you something." she says, pulling a thick letter out of her purse. "I… the letters from Sejanus are still reaching us. The flow of information between the districts and the Capitol is… very heavy and long. Especially when the peacekeepers are now checking every one of his correspondence. He sent it to you. Or rather, he wanted you to send it to him. Or rather, he wanted you to have it, just in case he couldn't… I'm sorry."
Your heart aches with sadness, seeing her on the verge of tears. She probably has no one to talk to about her son except her husband. After all, Sejanus was a traitor of Panem…
"He was a wonderful friend. The best one somebody could have. I could always count on him. Thank you for... taking the trouble to give me a letter from him. That... means a lot." you say, fighting the urge to hug the woman. The Capitol is not famous for acts of tenderness, mercy, or compassion. You had to keep up a facade. Always.
You take the letter from her and walk her to the exit. You give her one sympathetic look—everything you could afford in your position—and close the door behind her.
You sit on the couch and open the letter with trembling hands, trying not to look too closely at the way he wrote your name on the envelope. You know that will remind you of how you taught him how to decorate letters in his first days at the Capitol. Because everything here had to be perfectly beautiful. Even the fucking handwriting.
A bracelet falls out of the envelope and onto your lap. It is not particularly beautiful or sumptuous. It is a simple strap holding a peg-shaped pendant with some black, crushed stone placed behind a piece of glass.
You place it on the coffee table and open the letter with trembling hands. You already feel that after all this you will have to fix your makeup, which you will probably ruin with tears, but Sej's letter cannot wait until the end of the party.
Y/N, If you are somehow reading this letter, it means that I am not at your 20th birthday party, which makes me very sad. (You know how I love celebrating in your garden away from these Capitol's snobs.) Coming back, you know that I wish you all the best (along with Coryo. He's too big of a stick up his ass to write to you, even though he misses you and can't stop thinking about you. Take pity on me and write to this stubborn idiot, because I don't think I can stand another tirade about you and your perfection. Seriously. Our boy is getting mad because of this despair. I don't recognise him at all.) So, my dear friend, I wish you the best. I don't have any trinkets, interesting books, sweets, or anything suitable as a gift here, so I hope you'll be satisfied with what I came up with. I am not a poet, so don't laugh at me. I shall hear... or not. I made the bracelet, which you've probably already seen, myself. And that stone that is inside (and I hope it survived) is coal. I wanted to give this to you as a symbol of who you are to me. Everyone sees you as a diamond, something precious and beautiful. But for me and probably other people close to you, you are something more. This shiny diamond facade hides carbon. A simple coal, an ordinary soul like many others. But you made something more out of that ordinary coal. You are a diamond. Indestructible, the most durable of all. The purest form, preserved among the other gems and stones of the Capitol, because that's what all these power-hungry assholes are—coals that have decided not to change, to choose what is easy for them. I hope now you can see why I liked that nickname for you, diamond. So I hope you always stay true to yourself. No matter what. That's what I learned here, and I want to pass it on to you. Although I hope that by then the three of us will meet again in the Capitol. Do not wait for us both, Sejanus P.S. I miss you too.
You fold the letter and put it back in the envelope. You wipe away the tears that remain on your cheeks with your hands and take a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down.
You freeze when suddenly someone's arms wrap around you. The scent of roses hits your nostrils.
You get up from the couch like you've been burned and push Coriolanus' arms away from you. The feeling of sadness quickly turns to anger and pure fury as you stare at Snow.
"What the hell are you doing here?" you growl through a clenched jaw, extremely glad that there's a couch between you, or you'd hit him. And it was easier for you to explain your tears and smeared makeup than your red knuckles.
"Sweet, kind Plinth, giving you thoughtful gifts from beyond the grave. You love the dead Sejanus so much and ignore the living me. It must be hypocrisy on your part, don't you think? You accuse me of forgetting about Sejanus when you treat me so shamefully, worse than a dog. Should I die so that you can finally stop giving me the silent treatment and running away from me?"
"Believe me, you don't want to hear what I have to say to you." you huff, taking the bracelet and the letter. You hide them in the bodice of your dress and go to the mirror to fix your smudged makeup.
"You do not have to do that. Your boy isn't at the party anymore anyway." he says, standing so that you can see his reflection in the mirror.
"What?" you ask in surprise, turning to face him. You both stare at each other. In fact, you're only now getting a chance to take a good look at him. And you notice with dissatisfaction that the bastard found out from Tigris what your dress would look like, and he chose a suite so that both of you would match. "Where is Thomas?"
"Your little boy toy? Do you think he's enough of a distraction? That he can replace me? That he'll make you feel what I feel? Maby, that he can even protect you from me? Only I know you. I'm the only one worthy of your fucking attention and affection." you push past him, but he grabs your elbow.
"Touch me again and I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat." you growl, breaking away from his grip.
"Such aggression… I don't remember you from this side." he mocks you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You step away from him and cross your arms, staring at him defiantly.
"I will ask you one last time. Where is Thomas?"
"Let's just say that your mother and I caught him stealing your jewelry. We were merciful enough to solve the matter quietly. You will never see that garbage on the ball or any gala again. Certainly not on yours."
"Were you the one who framed him for this?" his silence and the calculating, self-proud look of the cat that caught the canary (or, in this case, the snake that choked the mouse) tell you everything. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you ask furiously.
You want to move past him, but he pushes you back, making you bump into the wall. He closes the gap between you in one step, pressing his chest against yours.
"You're mine. You've always been. You shouldn't lead this loser on or give him false hopes. We both know we will end up together."
"I broke up with you." you remind him, not caring about his intimidating attitude.
"A mistake I intend to fix." he says, leaning towards you.
His nose brushes against yours, and you shiver. You lift your leg, trying to kick him in the groyne, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sudden movement and grabs your thigh in a tight grip. If it weren't for the thick layers of material, he would probably leave bruises.
"You... you have nothing to fix. There is no longer us. I don't even know you anymore, Coriolanus."
"Don't." he growls at you angrily. You can see the desperation and madness in his eyes at the fact that you're using his name and that you wrote off your relationship. "It was always you. You were always mine, Y/N, and I was always your Coryo."
"Things are changing quickly. We are not the same, and now we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about."
"We have EVRYTHING to talk about. I still love.."
"DON'T!" you interrupt him. He freezes. You rarely shout, especially at him. That's why he takes a step back before putting on his impassive mask again. "Don't even say that. You have no idea what love is. Sure, you may feel attached and even desire me at some point, but you have no idea of unconditional, true love. So for old time's sake, leave me alone."
"What about you? Do you think you are so holy and blameless? That I'm the only bad guy? You lied to me. You promised you would stay with me, no matter what."
"I promised it to my Coryo. Not to you, Coriolanus. My Coryo died in District 12 with Sejanus—maybe even in the Hunger Games—when you let Dr. Gaul brainwash you in the name of fame, money, and position. You think that old hag didn't tell me why Sejanus is dead? That I don't know that your songbird has disappeared? That I would believe that Highbottom just got high or drank himself to death?" he clenches his jaw and fists at your words. You can see how furious he is, but he holds back, still controlling himself.
"Everything I did, I did for us. For you. For Tigris and Grandma." you laugh, wondering who he's trying to fool—himself, you, or both of you at the same time.
"No. You're doing it for yourself. Only for yourself, Coriolanus." he gets even more angry and pins you to the wall again. His cool blue eyes are raging with rage, and you try hard to push away the feeling of fear he has stirred in you.
"Do you want a reason to hate me? So you and Tigris can still gossip about my madness? Then maybe I should let this old man pursue her and sell her as a wife to one of them for good money."
"KEEP HER OUT OF IT! It's Tigris, Coriolanus! Tigris! The woman whose sacrifice you owe your entire fucking life to! A woman who went out of her way to give your ungrateful, selfish ass something to wear. Who sacrificed the love of her life in the name of maintaining the façade of Snow's wealth?! You can give a damn about me, Sejan, and even that little songbird of yours, but if you fucking ruin the life of your cousin—the only goddamn person who still cares about you—I promise you, in memory of OUR dead friend, that there won't be a fucking hole where you could hide from me."
You stare daggers at each other, both openly expressing your resentment towards the other. You have no idea why he still cares about you—is it because of your money, position, or some sick fantasy he has in his head, or maybe he actually still cares about you?
You don't think about it when a more important issue arises.
Suddenly, he grabs your face in both hands and pulls you towards him, greedily kissing you as he connects your lips after a very long time of separation. He caresses your lips with his and kisses you with such fervour as if he craves you like a hermit starving for water.
And for a moment, you feel like you were with Coryo, when all that mattered to you was the other one, when you could get lost in each other, forgetting about the rest of the world and the worries that were waiting for you.
And that's exactly what he's doing now. He makes you forget about anything but him.
You can't help but moan into his mouth as he presses his body against yours. When he releases his strong grip on your cheeks to grab you around your waist and press you against his body, his leg is between yours.
He kisses you more hungrily, groaning too at the familiar warmth of your body against him and the feeling of your soft, silky skin pressing against him. The scent of your perfume mixes, creating a perfect combination of roses and your favourite flowers. Your hands automatically go to his hair as you hold on to him and press him to you. You don't like the gel on your hands from his hair, but you ignore this new, irritating feeling by biting his lip.
You don't think at all. As well as Coriolanus. You both just kiss each other, your tongues joining, as you both let your desire for one another take control of the situation.
You only come to your senses when your lips break apart. You gasp, trying to breathe again, as he fucks your exposed collarbones with kisses. Your brain comes back to you as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He bites you, making you moan so needily that a wave of shame washes over you with his tongue, soothing the bite. You push him away from you and place your hand on your chest, trying to regain control over yourself.
"See? We belong together. There is no other way, Y/N. We are all we need."
"Bullshit." you gasp, trying to ignore the possessive, smug feeling blooming in your chest when you see his messy hair and your lipstick smeared on his lips. "Since you are that good in losing your memory, then forget about me too."
"I can't. I just can't. You think I haven't tried? That you don't haunt me every damn step I take? Everything I have and everything I know is saturated with you. With the memory of both of us. I forgot about what I had with that songbird and my friendship with Sejanus, but I simply CAN'T forget about you. I haven't spent a single damn day without thinking about you. NOT EVEN ONE. And I know you felt the same way. Do you know why I didn't kill that stupid boy who was clinging to you? Because I knew it would make you hate me even more. I was alone without you at 12, and you know how it ended. You are my conscience. Without you... there's nothing holding me back. Without you, there is nothing to distinguish me from the Hunger Games tributes. I have no borders, mercy, compassion, or anything that makes people human beings. And Gaul knows it. That's why she told you all of my crimes; that's why you're paranoid now that I'm someone completely different. But it's still me. I. Am. Still. Your. Coryo." he says it firmly, taking a step closer to you with each word.
"Don't turn me into a fucking cricket for your Pinocchio. I am not, and I do not want to be your conscience. I will not take part in your lies, games, and manipulations." you say as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to concede to the other in any way.
"I will have you. One way or another, but I will. Even if it is the last thing I do, I will have you by my side. Just where you always belonged. I promised you to be my First Lady. And I intend to keep that promise."
"You must become president first. And believe me, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Maybe you can't forget about me. But I can. I do not need you. I never needed you. How ironic to be able to lose the memories of everyone except the girl who will be the end of you, isn't it, CORIOLANUS?" you mock him, a smirk on your lips, making him a promise.
You walk past him, and this time he lets you go, knowing full well that he won't do anything more with you today. At least he got his kiss and a little taste of you, a reminder of the reward that awaits him when everything finally falls into place. When he finally has you in his arms and is at the top of Panem—his rightful place.
"The game has just begun!" he shouts after you, staring at you as you head towards the bathroom to touch up your ruined makeup. It gives you satisfaction to think that this bastard will probably have to clean himself up after your little make-out session, too.
You think that maybe Gaul was right about the Hunger Games being the whole world. But the reality was that there could only be ONE winner.
And among the people of the Capitol, only you and Coriolanus had a real chance of winning. It has always been like that. And even lost memories that do not want to go away so easily are proof of this.
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Part 2
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crewfu · 1 year
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I'm the anon asking about q/smp. Thank you for the explanation. Jsyk I wanted to clarify when I said allergic to Minecraft I meant literally I get physically ill when I try to watch Minecraft game play. Something about the animations in game trigger my photosensitivity hardcore (usually first person adventure type games trigger it for me idk why exactly) and so I get migraines (and as such vision loss both temporary and permanent plus permanent mild brain damage🙃), extreme dizziness, nausea, and a heightened risk for seizures. So I can't watch them even if I wanted. But I'll continue trying to absorb as much as I can osmosisly cuz it sounds fun. Thank you for sharing I have something new to try and find fandom content and figure out what happens through fandom alone
oh i see! that sounds pretty scary honestly. i’ve seen a lot of people in twitch chat say certain games trigger motion sickness so i think to a certain extent it’s not super uncommon (at least maybe a more mild version of what you experience)
like i said i’ve been super invested in the egg event for now and the server is less than a month old so we’ll see how things progress
and no problem for answering and i’m glad you don’t mind the shift in posts here as this server has stolen my interest for the time being :)
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casekt · 1 year
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What I think is wrong with society is there needs to be more swearing
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vixstarria · 4 months
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Seeing stars
Welp, I wrote more porn.
Astarion x F!Tav/F!Reader
18+, smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings, jealous Astarion, soft dom Astarion, dirty talk, fingering, PIV, elf ears and more! Humour, banter and fluff mixed in per usual. Tav failing several insight checks in the process.
I also poke fun at the in-game romance mechanics, and Wyll's Act 2 scene in particular.
This is the last time they have sex before the "I want us to be something real" conversation.
Approx. 2,900 words
“You won’t believe the ludicrous encounter I just had with Wyll.” 
You burst into Astarion’s tent. Well, it was ‘Astarion’s’ tent only notionally at this point. Yours still stood, but it now served solely as storage space for your assorted junk. You had effectively moved in with Astarion, having first coerced him into replacing the wooden plank and bloodstained rags he slept on with some sensible rugs and blankets. 
Astarion lounged half-naked on one of the bedrolls, reading something by candlelight. 
“Oh?” he looked up at you. “Do tell.” 
“First the massage you promised earlier,” you said sinking down onto the floor of the tent and stripping off most of your clothes. “My back is killing me after carrying everyone all day.” 
“Oh please...” he rolled his eyes. “I recall you nearly walked into your own cloud of daggers, again, and would have if I hadn’t pulled you away in time. And then you blasted Lae’zel off a cliff. It’s a wonder we haven’t kicked you out yet.” He shook his head. “And if you’re carrying anyone, I’m the one carrying you.” 
Still, he sat up as you laid down on your stomach.  
“Who do you think you’re fooling with this modesty, darling?” he murmured, noticing that you’d kept your underwear on. “Just lose it now,” he added, as he slid it off, leaving you completely naked, before he settled over you, his fingers commencing work on your shoulders. “So what happened with Wyll?” 
“I was making my way back here, and found him... performing some kind of jig by the campfire, pretending like he didn’t know I was there.” 
“The ‘Blade of Frontiers’, dancing alone in the middle of camp?” Astarion snickered. “Did you mock him? Please tell me you mocked him.”  
“Well... I was going to, but then he asked me to dance with him, very earnestly.” 
“That scoundrel...” he mused. “And let me guess - you agreed, didn’t you?” 
“Oh trust me, at that point it would have been more awkward not to dance with him, I had to play along.” 
Astarion scoffed, with a chuckle. 
“Do you always go along with whatever people want from you just because it would be too awkward to say no?” 
"I try not to – last time I did, I ended up with a vampire who won’t stop sucking me dry,” you deflected. “I figured there was no harm in indulging him. Besides, I don’t see you dancing with me. It was kind of nice,” you teased. 
“I hate dancing,” he said. 
“Right,” you said. “I’m sure you hate dancing just as much as you hate poetry, flowers, art, cats... What else?” 
“Children,” he answered. “I also can’t stand children.” 
“No, that one I could see being true,” you grinned. 
“So anyway, you two dolts pranced around the fire to the sound of crickets, then what?” 
“And then he tried to kiss me,” you admitted, with a sigh. 
Astarion’s hands paused for a moment before resuming their work, slightly harder than before. 
“Well look at you, receiving the Duke Ravengard’s heir’s attention. Moving up in the world, hmm?” 
“I didn’t let him.” 
He laughed. 
“Is there even a single person left in camp that hasn’t tried to get into your pants, darling?” 
You had to think for a moment.  
“Are we counting Volo?” 
“Sure.” 
“Then just Karlach and Withers.” 
“Gods, I fucking love Karlach,” he murmured. “Don’t tell her I said that.” 
“Why? Getting jealous all of a sudden?” 
Astarion was silent for a few moments. 
“I just don’t understand it,” he said. “You’re with me every night. I’m at your side every day. They see us. They hear us. Still, they don’t take me – or you and me – seriously. Tell me, is there something about me that screams: ‘Please, go ahead and take my lover for yourself. Come on in and snatch her right out from under me, I don’t mind’?”  
Perhaps you’d made a bad judgment call when you thought Astarion would find the absurdity of the situation humorous rather than offensive. Still, you had to bite your cheek to keep from laughing at the dramatics he added to the delivery of the last few lines that left his mouth. 
“Stop laughing,” he said.  
“I’m not laughing,” you laughed.  
“I can feel your back muscles twitching in your efforts.” 
“Well, they’re aware this all started as a joke. Perhaps they never realised that it’s long stopped being one?” you offered. 
Astarion’s hands had been moving lower and lower along your back. They had now reached your ass and continued to rub, stroke and squeeze, as you let out a soft groan. 
“That’s not my back, Astarion.” 
One of his hands kept squeezing an ass cheek, while the other dipped to stroke you between your legs. He gave a satisfied hum when two of his fingers entered you effortlessly. 
“Maybe if they could see how wet I can make you just by rubbing your back they’d reconsider how much of a joke this is,” he said, his voice low. He continued to pump his fingers in and out – you were almost embarrassed by the loud squelching sounds that came out of you. You moaned and tried to lift your hips higher, but your legs were encased between his thighs, pinned down on the bedroll. “Do you think you’d be reacting this way to young Ravengard, darling?” 
“Stop it,” you hissed. “You know I don’t want anyone but you.” 
“Stop?” he pulled his fingers out, to your dissatisfied whine. You looked back to see him studying your slick on his fingers. “I should go smear this on his face right now... The audacity to try to get his hands on what is not his.” He licked his fingers clean instead. He turned his attention back to you.  
“Maybe if you were more vocal about your devotion to me the others wouldn’t make these mistakes.” 
His hand returned between your legs, spreading your wetness and slipping lower to tease your clit.  
“I could be... encouraged... to be more vocal about it,” you breathed, trying to grind against his hand.  
“Yes... I should make you scream my name, so they all know who you belong to.” 
His fingers returned inside you, teasing you with shallow strokes.  
“You can try,” you taunted him. 
Astarion let out an indignant huff and shifted to spread your legs open with his knees, simultaneously placing a hand on your back to firmly hold you down. You expect to feel his cock enter you, but he continued to stroke you with his fingers, turning his hand to curl them downwards.  
“Is that a challenge, darling?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “You should know better by now than to bet against me,” he said, continuing to flex his fingers inside you. 
It started off pleasant enough, but rapidly grew into... more. And more. You weren’t sure what he was doing but whatever it was, it was just about making you see stars. 
You sputtered as the new sensation started to take hold of your whole being.  
“Ast… what..”  
You couldn't manage anything coherent, as his fingers continued to dig into you, gradually picking up speed and pressure. You started to squirm to try to get away despite yourself, but he simply put more weight against the hand on your back, securely pinning you to the bedroll. 
“Always getting yourself into situations you're not prepared for…" he murmured. "You're not talking your way out of this one.”
His fingers were relentless. You were worried you really would scream and wake everyone in camp. All you could do was bite down on the pillow, hoping that it would muffle your drawn-out moans. 
“Let go, darling... I know you want to.” 
It's not so much that you let go – rather, all your decorum was ripped from you, as your muscles convulsed, the orgasm rolling through your entire body. You panted and shuddered, trying to keep quiet, your hands clutching desperately at the covers beneath you, trying to hold on to anything like your life depended on it. 
Once the feeling subsided, you came back to your senses to find Astarion hovering over you, kissing the back of your neck and shoulders, grazing them with his fangs, almost but not quite hard enough to draw blood. You felt his erection rubbing against your hip. 
“Has anyone fucked you like this before?” he whispered hoarsely into your ear, his breath ragged from his own arousal. “Tell me.” 
“No,” you gasped, trying to catch your own breath.  
“I thought so,” he whispered with a smile, kissing your neck before he sat back up. 
You turned back to look at him over your shoulder. He watched you with a self-satisfied grin, his fingers returning to stroke you lightly between your legs once more. 
“Do you want me to do it again?” he purred. 
A part of you wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face after what he just put you through. Another, much larger part, wanted nothing more than to submit yourself to whatever he would do to you.  
“Yes,” you admitted sheepishly. 
“Turn around...” he narrowed his eyes mischievously. “I want to see your face this time.” 
You flipped around onto your back, under his watchful gaze. His eyes never left yours as he stroked your slit, teasing your engorged clit with his thumb, before his fingers slipped back inside you. 
You found yourself mewling in anticipation before he really even started doing anything.  
“So eager,” he smirked. “So wanton...” 
He curled his fingers again, moving his whole hand to mercilessly claw into a sweet spot you didn’t even know existed inside you.  
You tried to relax into and accept this sensation, now that you were familiar with it. A growing pressure kept building at the bottom of your stomach. It was too much. It was entirely too much. You couldn’t take more of it. You couldn’t- 
“Let go, I’ve got you...” His whisper sounded so tender in sharp contrast to the depraved way he was handling your body. 
You sobbed as what you hoped was cum gushed out of you, your legs quivering.  
“Good girl”, Astarion laughed with glee, bending down to place a kiss on your lips, continuing to stroke you lightly, “Your body reacts so perfectly to me... Do you want more?” 
“You... I want you...” you groaned, biting his lip. 
“If that’s what my good girl wants,” he purred, discarding what was left of his clothes.  
You groaned as his cock entered you, rocking your hips against his, trying to find that feeling again. 
“So wet and needy for me...” he goaded you. “I’ve completely ruined you for anyone else, haven’t I?” 
He held absolutely nothing back as he fucked you, lewd insistent sounds of skin slapping on skin combined with your shared grunts and moans disturbing what was likely otherwise a silent night. 
“Anyone awake knows exactly what I’m doing to you right now,” he rasped, voice thick.  
Your walls clenched at the thought, making him shudder and sigh as well. 
“You like that thought, don’t you..? I know you do,” he continued. “So shameless...” 
Despite yourself, you whimpered, clenching again as another orgasm started threatening to overtake you. 
“That’s it... Come for me again,” he groaned. “Come for me, my love.” 
‘My love’..? Just a figure of speech, you thought. You’d thrown that phrase around, jokingly, but it’s never sounded so... raw. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to keep hearing it.  
“Your what?” you gasped.  
He didn’t answer. Instead he caught your lips in a deep, devouring kiss, pinning your arms over your head.  
Your body gave in and you trembled under him, caught up in waves of pleasure again.  
He released your arms and eased his movements once you rode out your high, but kept kissing you, hungrily, unwilling to release your lips from his.  
Clearly, no further words of love would follow, you thought to yourself with a tinge of both relief and disappointment, deciding to let it go. 
“You’re so good to me,” you managed, breaking your lips from his. 
“Aren’t I just?” he groaned, speeding up again to chase his own release.  
You kissed your way up his jaw to his ear, pausing to nibble on his earlobe.  
You couldn’t see it, but a ditsy, open-mouthed smile started to play on his face. 
Astarion gasped with a sharp intake of breath as you continued further, running your tongue over the inside of the shell of his ear. 
“Oh sweet hells,” he sighed with pleasure, immediately grinding into your harder. 
You smiled as he tilted his head, just about pressing his ear against your lips. 
“Do you like that?” you whispered in his ear, running your tongue over it again, lifting your hands to run your fingers through his hair. You knew he did. You just wanted to hear him say it.  
“Yes... Don’t stop...” His words sounded like a desperate plea. 
You continued to gently nibble on the edge of his ear, soft moans escaping you from his movements. 
“That’s it, take what’s yours” you groaned, as his hips crashed into yours harder. 
His breathing and movements were becoming more and more frantic.  
“Astarion...” you whispered, grazing the shell of his ear with your lips. 
He let out an uncharacteristic whimper, all his usual composure slipping from him, as he bucked his hips, fucking you with quick, shallow thrusts.  
“My sweet...” you breathed against his ear. 
He came completely undone, spilling into you with forceful, jagged thrusts, before finally stilling. His whole body seemed to melt into yours as he stayed on top of you, trying to regain his breath. 
You wrapped your legs around his hips, not wanting to let go of him yet, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to lift himself from you either. Instead he trailed light, tender kisses from your neck up to your lips.  
You delicately traced the contours of Astarion’s face with your fingertips, running them from his cheekbone down to his jaw, as he leaned into your caress, gazing into your eyes.  
Astarion parted his lips slightly, as though to say something, only to seal them again. He tilted his head to kiss your knuckles as your fingers gradually made their way back up, to run through his hair. Eventually he spoke. 
“You would really choose me over the more... blatantly obvious options you have at your disposal here?” he asked quietly.  
“Haven’t I made that abundantly clear already..?” 
“Well of course you have – no one else is this good,” he said with a tired smirk. 
“I’m not talking about the...” you blinked. “You know I’m not with you just for the sex, right..?” you frowned, looking into his eyes. 
He looked away, slipping out of you and moving to lie down next to you.  
“Is that so?” he said softly.  
You found yourself suddenly feeling rattled. Was he simply fishing for compliments again, or had you been utterly oblivious to just how deep his insecurities ran this whole time..? 
“You have a wealth of other qualities that I... enjoy and appreciate,” you said, somewhat lamely.  
Astarion propped his head up on his hand and raised an eyebrow at you quizzically. There was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes despite his outward nonchalance.  
Oh for fuck’s sake, you thought. I’m not ready for any serious conversations now, especially not with cum running down my thighs.  
You turned away to grab something to wipe yourself down with. 
“A gentleman would clean up his own mess, by the way. Not one of your strong points. But you do have some virtues that make up for it. For instance... I can leave cheese unattended around you, knowing you won’t eat it.” 
Astarion went to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing.  
“You’re a treasure trove of useless information,” you continued. “But unlike some of our companions you usually keep it to yourself.” A hint of a smile played on his lips at that.  
“Your hand feels nice and cold on my forehead when I have a headache.” You laid back down next to him, mirroring the way he was lying. 
“You always smell nice, especially for a dead guy. You never hog the mirror.”   
“What about my hair, won’t you mention that?” he smiled. 
“No, fuck your hair, it makes mine look awful in comparison.”  
He chuckled at that. 
“I do rather adore the garnet puppy eyes though,” you murmured. “What else... You make me laugh, and, more importantly, I make you laugh – which is great for my ego,” you continued.  
“As long as you understand that I’m usually laughing at you,” he countered. 
“Prick... Then there’s the fact you’ve saved my life four times.”  
“Seven,” he said quietly, looking into your eyes.  
“Five.”  
“It’s seven, dear, I counted.” 
“Whatever. When it comes to battle, you’re silent but deadly,” you said. “Like a-” 
Astarion’s hand covered your mouth.  
“Do not finish that thought, darling.” 
You grinned from behind his palm.  
“I think we can be done with this conversation,” he said.  
“Wait, wait, one more...” you laughed. “You’re eccentric, unpredictable, often irrational. I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth.”  
You smiled as Astarion groaned dramatically, covering his face with one hand.  
“Knowing I’ll get to spend another day in your mad company gives me a reason to get up in the morning,” you added, softly. 
“Come here, you sweet fool,” he whispered, drawing you against him.  
You hugged him tightly. It took so long for him to start initiating these embraces that wouldn’t lead to sex... You relished each one.  
Tomorrow, Astarion thought to himself, unbeknown to you. I have to tell her tomorrow.  
~~~~~
Follow up bonus scene
This work is part of a series - here is the master list
Next in series - Confession
AO3
Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny @spunky-89
@spacebarbarianweird @kittenintheden - hey, I heard you like elf ears
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vivwritesfics · 5 months
Text
(Oh My God) They Were Roommates
Chapter Five - One Step Further
Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.
1.4K
Warnings: blowjob, masturbation, cum swallowing
Series Masterlist
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Lando Norris was incredibly frustrated.
It wasn't fair, that he had to live with her, in this perpetual state of frustration because she was comfortable enough to walk around in pyjama shorts now.
It wasn't fair, the way she sat almost close enough to touch but he couldn't. He wasn't fair, the way her shirt rode up, revealing everything when she reached for something in the kitchen.
He had to do something about it, because he was suffering.
As he was racing on the sim, on his shitty set up, there was a knock on the door. Y/N pushed it open, holding the doorframe as she leaned forward, into the room. "Want something to eat?" She offered and Lando ended his race several laps early.
He followed her into the kitchen and she passed him a plate of whatever she had made. The two of them sat on the sofa, watching a mindless sitcom as they ate.
This was their normal.
Except, Lando couldn't stop himself from watching her. Shit, she was something else. But Lando didn't want to make any mistakes. As soon as he had eaten, he was back in his bedroom, crashing his McLaren on the sim.
Y/N looked towards his bedroom door, which was partially open, whether he knew it or not, she didn't know.
But she got on with her evening, having a shower, cleaning her teeth and getting into bed.
Oddly enough, the only time Y/N slept well was during a race weekend. When she should have been out of her mind with anxiety, she slept like a baby.
But, in her apartment, she couldn't sleep. She could hear everything from Lando's bedroom, his angry shouts as he gamed, even though he was loud, they were somewhat comforting and did help her to sleep.
This time, though, it wasn't the gaming she was hearing. She knew exactly what it was, but she didn't let it phase her.
There comes a time most nights where Y/N would notice how little she had to drink that day. She was an athlete, staying hydrated was important. But it was so easy to forget to drink, especially with how busy she was.
She pulled herself from beneath the warmth of her covers and walked towards the kitchen. She reached into her cupboard and pulled a large mug from the cupboard.
As she filled it with water, she couldn't hear anything from Lando's room.
But then, as she sipped, she turned on her heel as she sipped the water, and nearly spat it out.
There he was, head thrown back as he gripped his cock. His eyes were shut as he pumped his hand up and down his length and, if she was just a little closer, she was sure she would have heard him moaning.
She placed her water onto the kitchen table and moved closer to his bedroom door, trying to get a better look. She leant against the doorframe, keeping herself hidden from sight.
Not that Lando would have seen her. His eyes were squeezed shut, throat bobbing as he swallowed around his moans.
From her place by the door, she could hear what he was moaning, hear as her name left his lips in breathy moans. "Holy fuck, Y/N," she heard his whisper, gripping himself tighter.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she took a brave step forward into Landos room. He seemed to hear it as the door squeeked open and the floorboards creaked under her weight.
"Holy fuck, Y/N!" He cried, although his time it wasn't sexy.
With a panicked look in his eye, Lando rushed to turn away from her, to hide his erection. "What the hell are you doing?" He hissed, unable to hide his embarrassment.
But Y/N didn't seem to care. As if in a trance she walked over to him and grabbed a hold of his gaming chair, turning it to face her. She continued looking in his eyes as she got down onto her knees and placed her hands on his thighs.
"W-what're you doing?" He asked again, his voice shaking.
There was no resistance as she pulled his hands away from his erection, letting it spring free. "Are you okay with this?" She whispered, reaching towards him.
Lando nodded his head, letting out a breathy confirmation. His eyes followed her as she reached towards him, her fingers wrapping around him. She pumped her hand once, twice, and moved her face forward, licking him.
He let out a shuddering breath as she wrapped her lips around his tip, swirling her tongue around him. She sucked, just the tip, and Lando uncontrollably bucked his hips, trying to get her take more of him into her mouth.
She obliged, taking him further into her mouth. Her eyes shut for a moment as she choked on his length, but she pushed through it, determined to bring him pleasure. She pulled back, staring into his blue eyes and she licked him again, her tongue following the vein.
"Fuck me, don't stop," he said, his head thrown back as he reached for her head, holding her head as she sucked him again.
Her eyes were shut as she continued to suck, bringing him closer to the edge. Lando couldn't stop himself from lacing his fingers through her hair, moving her up and down as he bucked his hips forward, out of the chair.
Drool ran down her chin as she continued, her hand moving at his base, working in tandem with her mouth. "Fuck, I'm gonna..."
He held her hair, trying to pull her off of him, but Y/N stayed where she was. She continued to suck, bringing him to orgasm.
She held him in her mouth as he came, spilling onto her tongue. Releasing him, Y/N met his gaze, staring at him as she swallowed. "I..." Lando began, but no words came out.
Standing up, Y/N brushed off her now aching knees and left the bedroom. She closed the door behind her, grabbed the mug of water from the table, and walked into her own bedroom.
With her bag against the door, Y/N let out a breath. Holy fuck. Holy fuck, had that really just happened?
He was her roommate, her fucking teammate, and she had just sucked him off. She'd watched him, listened as he moaned her name, and she'd joined him. She'd swallowed his fucking cum.
It was a line that never should have been crossed, but they had crossed it. It should have been mortifying, but she had loved it, every minute of it. She wanted to do it again.
Before she walked over to her bed, Y/N opened her door slightly. She threw off her clothes as she sauntered over to her bed and crawled under the covers, her fingers travelling down to her cunt.
***
"You did what?!"
It was the early hours of the morning and Lando was out at the gym with his trainer. Y/N hadn't said hello to him that morning, but she'd watched through the crack in her bedroom door as he left the apartment.
As soon as he was done, Y/N sat against her bedroom door and called her best friend. She chewed on her nails as she waited for her best friend to pick up.
"What's up love?" Her friend asked.
Y/N gave her a rundown of everything that had happened the night before, leaving out some of the more intimate details. Even when she had said it, it didn't feel real, didn't feel like it had actually happened.
When she was finished, her friend let out a laugh. "No fucking way," she said, her hand clamped over her mouth. "You're not serious. You actually sucked off Lando?"
"It's not funny!" Y/N insisted. "What the hell am I going to do?"
"Well, what do you want to do?" Her friend asked slowly, carefully. "Like, do you want to forget it ever happened? Or, do you... want it to happened again?"
Y/N swallowed thickly. How was she ever meant to admit that she wanted it to happen again? He was her teammate, her rival, her roommate.
"Okay, well I got a plan," her friend said, knowing her answer. "Listen closely," she said and Y/N did just that.
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sanakiras · 2 months
Text
HEAVEN
PAIRING — jeon wonwoo x fem!reader
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WORD COUNT — 3.4k
SYNOPSIS — wonwoo has a reputation for being distant, quiet and a bit mysterious. once you get to know him better, though, you come to find the sweet, shy boy underneath the surface.
TAGS — established relationship, explicit sexual content, sub-ish virgin!wonwoo, lowkey corruption kink, i have a sickening crush on this man can you tell, not proofread :)
♪ — the nbhd - heaven,, hank lotion - k-sEx
NOTE — gam3 bo1 wonwoo and ep 1 nana tour wonwoo footage has been making me act UP and i think he’s just so cute <3 screw the hard dom wonu agenda i like to see my men a lil WEAK ‼️😁
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like most people, you felt rather intimidated when you met jeon wonwoo for the first time.
stoic, quiet, intelligent. the strong and silent type. that was the clear image you had of him. and to top it all off, he had the criminally good looks too. a relatively rare kind of man to come across, in your opinion.
though you began to see him in a different light after bonding with him over your shared love for video games. since then, you’ve discovered he can actually be quite talkative, cracking silly puns or laughing at the corniest dad jokes. he’s well-spoken and is actually very open about his feelings, which you found refreshing.
and while developing a friendship with him, you realized how much of a big softie he actually is, which paints quite the contrast compared to his cold and quiet persona he unintentionally seems to put up towards those outside his circle of close friends and family.
it reminds you of the day he asked you out — that sweet, shy smile on his face with rosy cheeks, all flustered and stuttering that you really don’t have to say yes if you don’t feel like it and he’ll push it all to the side like nothing happened if that’s what you’d prefer—
you very easily interrupted him by agreeing to go on a date with him. you’d never seen him smile wider.
wonwoo is cute when he smiles.
and despite his nervousness in the beginning, he still made efforts to be as talkative as he could and show you his interest in you, which you found very sweet. you had a great time with him, and you noticed rather quickly how comfortable you felt around him.
a couple dates later, he asked you if you wanted to be his girlfriend, and you certainly didn’t refuse him.
he’s also turned out to be a gentleman in his own way — subtly saying he could do certain things for you to make your life easier in that monotone voice of his, eyes following you around whenever he’s with you.
the first time he slept over at your place was rather recently after you two made it official. it wasn’t planned, since he was supposed to go back to his place after your date, but due to issues with public transport, you offered him to stay with you instead.
with his face and chest bare, he got into bed next to you. of course you’d imagined what he looked like underneath his big hoodies, but actually having him by your side like this was different.
and wonwoo was putting every bit of effort into playing it cool, even though he was freaking out to be sleeping next to his first girlfriend, forcing himself to look away from your tank top that left very little to the imagination.
yet ironically, it was all he could fantasize about before drifting to sleep.
normally, you’d only let a guy into your bed to do things other than sleeping once you’ve been dating for quite a while. it’s never been something you like to initiate quickly — but wonwoo’s been making you question it. severely.
because he looks so hot when he’s out on the field with his football team, when he’s working out, when he’s gaming on his pc, even when he just fucking smiles at you. the worst thing of it all might be that he doesn’t even seem the slightest bit aware of how attractive he is, nor what effect it has on you.
maybe you should really just tell him you want to jump him like a tree.
but you don’t want to rush him. for all you know, he doesn’t feel like doing that at all with you yet, and for some reason you just didn’t know when or how to ask him about it. later, you thought to yourself.
though you will say you’ve been pushing his buttons a little over the course of time. ever since that night, you’ve subtly been putting yourself on display for him. low-cut shirts and dresses so he can take a peek at your cleavage, accidentally exposing a bit of the fabric of your lingerie, sitting in his lap and rubbing up on him — unintentionally, of course.
it took every ounce of self-control in your body not to smirk when you felt him stiffen up underneath you.
the progress of your relationship has been nothing but positive, really. but you’re aching for him to just touch you at this point.
the day you hit your breaking point isn’t much later. you were trying on some newly bought dresses in front of him, one more revealing than the other — sundresses always work magic on men for whatever reason — and you turned around to find him pathetically trying to hide his hard-on while seated on your bed.
and you just couldn’t find it in you to wait any longer.
so that’s how you ended up sitting in his lap, hands on the back of his neck as you’re grinding against him. his glasses are sitting lop-sided on his nose, black locks messy from your fingers threading through them, lips swollen from your kisses.
the moment he feels your fingers tugging at his hoodie, he feels the need to clear up what he’s been meaning to tell you for a while now.
“i need to tell you something. i’ve—” he cuts himself off when he accidentally lets out a whimper, “i’ve never had sex with anyone.”
he’s still heavily breathing, looking at you in anticipation, and you just can’t escape the buzzing feeling you get from the idea of taking his virginity.
“do you want to?” you ask him, and how could he say no when you’re holding his face like this, looking at him like you’re willing to give him the ride of his life?
“yeah, yeah, i just—i usually don’t last very long,” he sheepishly admits, then internally asking himself why the fuck he would say that, “sorry, i’m nervous.”
but you think it’s endearing. “i don’t mind. we can always go for a second round, right?”
all he can do is nod his head in agreement. “i, i um—i’m not sure what to do next. i’m sorry, this is embarrassing.”
“it’s not, really. it’s not some big performance you need to put up, it’s something fun and exciting and intimate. you can go ahead and relax, and tell me if you like or don’t like what i’m doing.” you reassure him so patiently, which puts him at ease.
jesus — if anything, he’s already a whimpering, stuttering mess and you’re hardly even touching him.
so you move your hand down into his boxers, fingers wrapping around him to test the waters. he gasps in surprise once he feels you touching him, heat rushing to his cheeks.
“just let me take care of you, ‘kay? we can stop anytime.” you tell him, and he trusts you enough to let you go on.
you press another kiss to his lips before moving backwards, fingers taking a hold of the waistband of both his sweatpants and boxers.
the cold on his skin makes him shiver, but he’s hardly given the time to feel exposed in front of you when you’ve already got your hands on him, pleasantly surprised by his size.
“you’re so big, wonu.” you tell him in a sweet voice, feeling like you’re about to drool at the sight of him.
“didn’t think i was big.” he mumbles more to himself than to you, staring at the ceiling as he tries to steady his breathing.
you chuckle a little as you watch him. “you are. gonna have to work for it to make you fit into me.” the words make his eyes widen, images of you getting fucked by him flashing through his mind.
“fuck, really?”
“mhm. but you’ll do that for me, won’t you?”
wonwoo is absolutely crumbling underneath you here. the effect that your mere words have on him should be studied, because shit, he’s never felt this hot before. why is it so hot in here? is he sweating already? “yeah, i’ll—i’ll do anything you want me to.”
he’s such a sweetheart that it makes you want to ruin him.
for the sake of both his and your own pleasure, you decide not to tease any longer and touch his cock with your lips. he lets out a moan of surprise, the feeling being unfamiliar to him, but holy shit — this has got to be what heaven feels like.
his chest heaves as he tries to control his breathing once more, focusing on keeping his breathing by his stomach. your tongue darts out to lick his cock, and he whimpers, which makes you triumphantly smile a little.
you’re genuinely curious to see how long he can last, so you catch him by surprise by taking him into your mouth as far as possible, and his hand subconscously flies to the back of your head, and he doesn’t know whether he wants to push your head down or pull it back. he releases a choked moan, spurring you on to keep him lodged in your throat despite his efforts to pull you off him.
“fuck—please don’t make me cum already, baby, please—” he begs, loving the feeling of your mouth on him like that — he just doesn’t want to hit his peak that fast.
unfortunately for him, you do.
with your mouth currently no longer on him, you gently jerk him off instead, his hips automatically bucking into your grip. "what if i want you to?"
“you’ve barely—barely touched me. ‘s embarrassing.” he chokes out. the heat is still rushing to his cheeks. his hands are shaking.
of course he’s nervous. you’re his first time, his first girlfriend, it’s all new to him. he’s clearly afraid you might be turned off by him being all flustered like this.
so you make it your mission to show him it’s very much the opposite.
discarding your dress, you’re left in your tank top and underwear, nipples poking through the thin, white fabric. you move to tilt his face up with your glossy, acrylic nail, gently holding his chin, your face mere inches away from his.
“do you have any idea how wet i am? just from seeing you like this?” you ask, pulling his one hand down so he can feel the dampness of your panties. “bet you could slip right in.”
a broken whimper slips out of his mouth when he feels it. he didn’t know you were this turned on.
you push his head and upper body back against the pillows, making him lie down fully, and you’re just so eager to suck the life out of him.
the feeling of your warm mouth and tongue around him makes him experience a sensation he didn’t think was possible. christ, this must be what heaven feels like.
“oh my god—you’re so fucking good.” he’s arching his back with his eyes tightly shut from the pleasure you’re giving him. it’s only when you take him as far in your throat as possible that the first guttural groan is ripped from the depths of his chest. it’s a low, sexy sound that makes you clench around nothing.
he’s burning hot under you, causing his glasses to fog up a little. he carelessly throws the pair onto his nightstand, the grip on the back of your head becoming harsher and less gentle than before, because he’s that fucking close now.
it’s cute seeing wonwoo not knowing what to do with himself. keeping your mouth on his cock, gripping the sheets, throwing his head back before he casts his eyes back down to watch you suck him off — it’s like he’s being overstimulated in the best way possible.
it’s enough for you to sense he’s close, which makes you take your mouth off him to jerk him off instead, all so you can watch him chase his release. “that’s it, wonu, give it to me.”
there’s a sudden shiver that runs from his back and core all the way down to his toes. he tenses up, unintentionally grabbing your wrist to stop your movements as he trembles and his body gives in to his orgasm.
once he’s coming down from his high, he looks at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
“that was… holy shit.” he laughs a little to himself, eliciting a chuckle from you.
“i’m that good, huh?”
“yeah.”
“wanna keep going?”
“mhm.”
“okay. take off your shirt.”
wonwoo blinks for a moment. he practically forgot he was still wearing one, so he sits up and gets rid of the black shirt, throwing it beside your bed, now completely bare before you.
if he’s being honest, you did ease his nerves by letting him have his first orgasm already. the strange sense of shame he previously felt has disappeared into the air, with only nervous excitement left.
he feels good.
especially when he watches you move to sit on your knees on the bed, removing the tank top and slipping out of your underwear.
his eyes are glued to your naked body, hardly able to look away — that is, until you sit down in his lap, your dripping heat touching his hardening dick, making him twitch under you.
“where do you keep your condoms?”
the question forces him out of his constant staring at your body. “uh—nightstand.” he mutters, taking the initiative to reach and get it himself.
thankfully, he manages to get it on himself quickly. you urge him to lie back down again while you position yourself above him, shamelessly staring at his strong chest and broad shoulders.
his mouth is agape when you sink down on him, and fuck, he’s in so deep.
the stretch burns, especially because you didn’t get yourself ready, but you’re so dripping wet to the point you don’t care — you need him in you.
wonwoo notices you struggle despite your arousal. “you don’t have to take me all the way if it hurts.”
you hum, a half-smirk creeping onto your face. “but it hurts so good. so i will.”
once he’s sheathed fully inside you, he’s subconsciously holding his breath. the anticipation for you to move is killing him. the sensitivity of his dick makes him whimper, his lashes fluttering as his teeth sink into his lower lip in a failed attempt to hold it together.
you decide to tease him a little by clenching down on him. his hands fly to your hips, gripping the skin harder than intended from the sudden feeling, his breathing becoming erratic again. “hah—don’t do that, please, i don’t wanna cum yet baby—please.”
“why? you close?” you ask him with an innocent face, knowing damn well what you’re doing to him.
“yeah. need you so bad.” he answers truthfully, his ego and pride nowhere to be found anymore. whether he sounds pathetic or not, he doesn’t give a shit. all he knows is that you’re sitting on top of him and he needs you to make him feel what he’s been desperate to feel for so damn long.
so you tilt your head. “‘s okay, wonu. i’ll give it to you.”
he can hardly even make out a response before you lift your hips and proceed to sink back down on him, your hands on his chest. a filthy moan rolls past his lips — you think it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard in your damn life.
then you begin to roll your hips, and he sucks through his teeth from the feeling, a mix of overstimulation and pleasure rushing through him. once you let out your first dragged-out moan, his fingers twitch for a moment, digging deeper into your skin.
“have you thought about this? fucking me?”
despite the position he’s in right now, he still feels his face heat up when you ask him dirty things like that, even more so when he answers them.
“yeah, i did.”
“when? tell me. i wanna hear it.” you tell him, and when you’re so gorgeously riding him like this, how could he not oblige?
wonwoo swallows, stuttering as he focuses on recalling the memories while admiring you and the feeling you’re letting him experience. “when i saw you wearing that short skirt on our second date, and—and that time you came to watch me at the football game. couple of my teammates were drooling over you. so was i.”
his words turn you on, because you doubted whether you were sensing actual jealousy from him that night, and this confirms it.
“were you?” you ask, running your nails down his stomach. “what’d you do about it?”
he bites his lip. “i’ll sound like a pervert if i answer that.”
teasing him again, you push yourself down on him almost harshly, relishing in the way he gasps under you. wonwoo is wonderfully responsive in bed, and you’re having a fucking field trip with it.
“yeah? try me.”
“i touched myself after getting home, and i... thought about you. in that skirt.”
“i’ll wear it for you next time.” you smile, watching him close his eyes in pleasure when you leave your marks on his chest, putting a few hickeys on his neck and collarbone on purpose. “i touched myself thinking of you, too.”
that makes him twitch inside you, which is exactly what you wanted.
his hands dip to the curve of your ass, following your movement. “really?”
“mhm. i thought you looked so sexy in your football attire. you were wearing that tight compression shirt that you always wear when you go to the gym too — drove me nuts, wonu.” you confess, which seems to work as a brief shot of adrenaline for him.
he moves to sit up, bringing your bodies closer together by looping his arms around your waist, the slight change in position making you moan.
the drag of his cock inside you is slowly making you go insane. your face is hot and you’re dripping wet for him, sucking him in to the point you feel like you need to claw at the walls.
“god, feels so good.” he mutters, his mouth finding your breasts before he begins to suck on the skin like a man starved.
once he notices you’re both getting closer, but you’re getting tired from your position on top, he takes a breath and flips you over, now hovering above you.
burying his face in the crook of your neck, he holds onto your body and fucks you. his thrusts are harder than he intends them to, the control over his body lost in his relentless drive to make you both feel good.
he’s panting hard, doing everything in his power to make you cum first this time while indulging in his own pleasure as well. “am i doing good for my first time? does it feel good?”
god, you can only half-catch the words with the way he’s fucking you. it’s almost funny — such a sweetheart he is, asking you if he’s doing well while simultaneously fucking you into oblivion.
“you’re so good, wonu. so good—‘m so close.” you cry out, manicured nails digging into his back, making him groan.
“wanna feel you cum around me so bad.” the words almost sound like a plea, like he’s begging you for it.
then he kisses your neck, and he hits the perfect spot inside you over and over, and it’s enough to make you clench so hard around him that he can’t hold it any longer. your orgasm makes your legs shake, and he fucks you right through it, making you wonder why the hell it took the universe so long to let him into your life.
he moans and whines and shakes when he hits his climax, twitching inside you, filling up the condom. with heavy breaths, he lets his body rest on top of you, his head by your collarbone, a comfortable silence emerging as your heartbeats slow and breathing steadies.
surprisingly, it’s him who speaks up first.
“i’m gonna need a while for my legs to start working again.” he chuckles breathily, covering his face a little when he notices you poking fun at him.
“aw, baby, did i drain you that much?”
“i genuinely can’t even feel my limbs.”
you laugh at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he smiles so sweetly — as if he didn’t just fuck the living daylights out of you. “wanna go again?”
he blushes a bit, tilting his head as if he has to think about it, before sheepishly giving you his answer.
“... yeah.”
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thanks for reading! let me know if u liked it x
® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.
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jamminvroomvroom · 7 months
Text
777.
ln x fem!reader
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in which lando has a wild week in vegas
on a bit of a roll whoops! had to write something slutty for vegas week/lando’s birthday so here it is! enjoy my loves and please please pleeeeease tell me what you think! 🎲💘 have literally been thinking about this since vegas was announced and i couldn’t stop listening to silk sonic lol
posting this with the @lavenderlando seal of approval 🫡🤍
inspired loosely by 777 by silk sonic
warnings: 18+ minors dni i am so serious!! listen it’s smut. it’s a lot lot lot of smut. alcohol, swearing, fuckboy!lando, one night stand vibes, choking, unprotected sex, general sex acts, some kinky shit, fluff, minor angst bc lando is a moody little shit
5k words
lando had gotten used to the taste of champagne.
the golden bubbles had grown on him over the course of the season, they tasted like success. so, he didn’t protest when several magnums showed up at the round table, some ridiculous happy birthday remix being blasted over the casino speakers.
it was the night of his 24th birthday, and the drinks hadn’t stopped flowing. he was surrounded by his friends, max and ash joining him, as well as the drivers that had arrived in vegas. the crisp white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows by now, midnight fast approaching, the material half unbuttoned.
they’d started the night in a bar, drowning in a river of alcohol, and now they were in a casino, one of many on the strip. it was all a bit predictable, kitschy decor everywhere he looked since he’d arrived in las vegas, but that’s what made it iconic. the tackiness seemed to mesh well with the old money vibe, and lando knew this would be a birthday to remember. 

everything was mahogany, gold or red. nothing didn’t twinkle in the lights. his suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, curls messy already from the light breeze of november in the desert. his cheeks were champagne rosy, the alcohol going straight to his head and he felt so fucking good.
everyone toasted to the birthday boy, slot machines rattling in the background. lando didn’t usually enjoy this sort of environment, but he was too drunk to care, deciding to embrace the insanity of his life and live on the edge for one night.
he found himself hunched over a gaming table, fingers drumming against the green felt. his eyes scanned the embroidery, taking in the game that was being played. blackjack, he assumed. this really wasn’t his type of place.
by then, as if by some sort of divine intervention, it was.
a flash of red. a swish of hair. manicured nails on a martini glass.
suddenly blackjack seemed like the best fucking game in the world.
lando couldn’t look away from you.
you were stood right opposite him, drink in hand, red satin draping over every curve of your frame. the dress seemed to cover everything, and nothing at all, perfect for the environment you were in. it was daring, enticing, and lando sure liked being enticed.
from the very second he laid eyes on you, he was picturing what you’d look like against a clean, white bedspread, how his name would sound rolling off your tongue in the form of a desperate whimper. it was a crude thought, but he’d become a crude man.
things had changed a lot since his last breakup. he was messy, leaving a trail of clothes and kisses across every country he stepped foot in. he didn’t get off on the number of people he’d slept with, he got off on the rush of someone new, and he knew before he’d even touched down in vegas, a week earlier than he needed to, that this would probably be the messiest week of his life.
but then he saw you, and it felt weird. he didn’t just want to learn your name and bend you over the nearest surface, gone from your bed before the sun was even in the sky. he was addicted at first sight; he had to take you home, at the very least.
his fixation on you was broken by the dealers voice; it seemed like you were up to play next and you needed at least another player. lando’s eyes flitted back to you, wondering if he even knew how to play blackjack before he offered himself up to you on a glaring shiny platter. you took the decision away from him, because this time, you were staring right back at him.
internally, he was choking on air. externally, he was mentally undressing you with a filthy smirk on his face.
“wanna play, birthday boy?” you smiled coyly, an eyebrow quirked seductively. he could have fallen right to his knees at just the sound of your voice. sweet and spicy.
lando realised that you’d seen the embarrassing display the boys had put on for him. maybe you even knew who he was. he definitely wanted to know who you were, and that’s why he decided to give in to your electric stare.
“you’re on.”
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he lost.
every. single. game.
numbers were never lando’s thing.
it was hard to care, though, when he had you sprawled out on the desk of his hotel room, his lips all over your neck.
the walk from the casino up to his room had been short, a bottle of champagne in his left hand and the curve of your ass in his right. there’d been very little small talk, very little convincing needed to seduce you, not with the way you’d been eye-fucking from opposite sides of the table, cards laid bare before you both.
he’d kissed you in the elevator, sloppy and desperate, pressed you against the door to his suite, and quickly pinned you to the other side of it once you were finally inside. you tasted like fruit liquor and cigarettes, your dress slowly bunching at your hips as his hands roamed the silky material. lando was restless, craving everything you had to offer, so he picked you up effortlessly, spreading his palms across the back of your thighs.
it had been a short walk to the desk from the door, and he placed you down carefully. lando slid the dress up your thighs, his finger grazing your calf as he did. you were arching into him, pushing his jacket off his frame and frantically tugging at the buttons of his dress shirt until it was hanging undone off his shoulders.
the look in your eyes sent his blood rushing, frenzied and desperate for him as much as he was for you. taking your jaw in his hand, he tilted your chin towards him until you were looking up at him through your lashes. lando tucked your hair behind your ear, continuing to graze down your neck until he reached the flimsy strap of your dress.
“are you gonna let me have you?” his grip on your jaw tightened and he studied your face.
he gulped when your lips twisted into a smile, conniving, dangerous, red lipstick smudged deliciously. you hadn’t caved into his touch, fallen into submission, and suddenly lando was swimming way out of his depth.
it seemed he’d finally met his match.
you pushed him away, giggling as he stumbled backwards towards the bed, and stood from your place on the desk. slowly, you made your way towards him, until you’d backed him up all the way to the foot of the bed, at which point he collapsed. he scrambled up onto his elbows, smirking up at you.
your eyes raked over his frame, swollen lip caught between your teeth. he looked disheveled in the best way, shirt framing lean sun kissed skin.
slowly, you unzipped your dress, letting it fall off your frame. the material pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it carefully, kicking it away. lando had moved up the bed so that he was sitting against the headboard, watching you hungrily. you were left bare, aside from a lacy thong and red stilettos. lando could have cried tears of joy.
happy fucking birthday.
lando’s eyes lit up like 777 had spun onto a slot machine. he may have lost at blackjack but he’d definitely hit the jackpot.
you crawled onto the bed towards him, not stopping until you were sat on his lap. his hands scaled your thighs, stroking up and down the soft skin. you rolled your hips, experimenting, toying with him, and he groaned, low and loud.
“does this answer your your question?” you whispered, leaning into him so that you could loop your arms around his neck.
lando kissed you, slow and sloppy, sitting up even further just to feel you closer. he could feel your nipples brushing against his bare chest, low whines breaking through the kiss your shared every time you felt too sensitive. your bodies were rolling together in unison, friction building nicely between your legs.
he was growing impatient, itching to get rid of the remaining barriers between you. lando held you still, tight, flipping you both over so that he was hovering over you. his lips worked your neck, hickeys littered down your neck and over your collarbone, while his hands moved down your body. he toyed with the band of your thong, snapping the material against your waist.
lando left you there, keening for his touch, while he peeled his shirt off. his trousers went next, along with his boxers, and then he was right back where he’d left off. your panties disappeared in a flash, his kisses punctuated by a splotchy purple mark sucked below your left breast.
and then he was buried between your legs, licking stripes into you like he was starving. he moaned into your pussy when he felt the first pull on his hair, spurring him on. he applied more pressure, taking it slow, revelling in the way you tugged harder and harder with every swipe. lando slid two fingers through your folds, coating them in your slick.
when he slid the digits inside of you, his mouth latched onto your clit, flicking against it relentlessly. he found the perfect rhythm, balance, everything he was doing made you see stars behind your eyelids. you were thrashing, helpless, and he was getting off on it.
you jaw went slack when you raised yourself onto your elbows just to find him grinding against the mattress, groaning into your cunt at the sensation, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. you couldn’t even hold yourself up then, dropping into the mattress as you fell apart beneath him.
lando resurfaced a few moments later, a glint in his eyes, his mouth glistening in the dim light. your vision was hazy, body shattered, but you ached for more of him. the feeling only intensified, your legs tightening around his waist, when he raised his coated fingers to his lips, lapping up every last drop of you. his tongue swirled around his digits lewdly, and you shuddered.
lando didn’t mind at all when you pushed him onto his back, clambering on top of him. you looked wild, animalistic even, as you guided the tip of his cock through your folds, and he folded his arms behind his head to enjoy the view. once you’d slicked him up, not that he really needed it, you sunk down on him.
fingerprints stained your hips; his grip on you increased tenfold as you adjusted around him, your walls throbbing around his swollen cock. lando sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, holding you down on him. your movements were stuttering, trying to hold yourself together and ignore the way he fit inside you so damn perfectly. you tested the waters, rolling your hips a few times, and his eyes rolled back in his skull.
you felt heavenly, like velvet and butterflies.
he lost all sense of control, every fibre keeping him from wrecking you. his grip didn’t loosen when he fucked up into you, bending his knees for any extra leverage he could get. your nails scraped down his chest, his abs, dripping at the way he tensed under your touch. you tried your best to keep up with him, to meet his thrusts, holding your own for longer than you thought you would.
and then you were folding, melting into his chest, one of his hands pulling both of your behind your back, holding you down as he fucked you into your orgasm. your whines were panted right into his ear, sending him hurtling towards his own high.
lando couldn’t help himself, spilling into you, your body pressed helplessly into his. you were exhausted, wrecked, grinning lazily against the thrumming of his heartbeat.
with your hands held behind your back, you couldn’t stop him from planting you on your back, snaking down your body, burying his tongue deep inside you. the room was filled with the sound of sex, his tongue dragging over you like you were the last meal on earth and he was ravenous. he cleaned up the mess he’d made quickly, sounds that would make the population of sin city blush bouncing off the walls.
your vision was white, maybe your were screaming, it was hard to know what was going on when he had you about ready to ascend. when you fell over the edge, you were boneless, at one with the bed. you watched as he licked his lips, flopping onto the bed beside you.
he stroked your hair and you hummed, content and satiated.
lando didn’t dare look away from you while you came down.
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apparently, it was rare to wake up after a wild night in vegas and remember the events of the night before.
lando remembered everything.
the exact shade of your eyes, the feel of red satin and black lace, the way you tasted.
your lips on his skin, hips in his hands, the way you moulded pliantly to his touch.
the way you gave as good as you got.
he was smiling before he’d even opened his eyes, reaching blinding across the bed, ready to propose round… four? five? lando had lost count.
warm hands met cold sheets and suddenly he was wide awake.
lando sat up dead straight, searching for a sign of life in the room. there was none. no shoes on the floor, no dress to match, no thong hanging from the door handle. a pit formed in his stomach.
is this how he made people feel?
waking up alone after the best sex of his life and no trace of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on was quite miserable.
he thudded back into the mattress, hands shielding his eyes from the burn of daylight. he felt like shit, that was undeniable. when he’d fallen asleep, naked and with you nestled into his side, he couldn’t wait to wake up, perhaps arrogantly thinking that you’d be waking up with him. what was that saying, again?
hope breeds eternal misery.
his brain was wracked with the image of you and him, champagne flowing right before he’d taken you again, bent over the desk. and then again in the shower, a harmless attempt to clean yourselves up ending up with you on your knees before your cheek was pressed against the shower screen.
lando tried to fathom why you’d leave after the night you’d shared. there was something about it, something more intimate in the desperation you’d shared, that left him senseless as to why you were gone before the sun was in the sky.
just like he usually was.
it dawned on him, quite quickly, that the habits he’d made of quick fucks and fast getaways was not good form. it was reckless and casually cruel, and he felt guilt for the first time since his string of one night stands had begun. perspective was a crazy thing.
when he sluggishly made his way out of bed, he felt even worse.
-
“where’d you get to last night? we lost you after that terrible game of blackjack.” max teased, sipping his coffee.
lando found himself at the breakfast table, head rested on his hand and hoodie pulled tight. he wasn’t in the mood to talk, but max was like a dog with a bone; there was no avoiding this conversation.
“met a girl.” lando mumbled, aimlessly stirring the tea he knew he wasn’t going to drink.
“ah, understood.” max said, grinning knowingly. but then, as if lando’s bad mood finally clicked, he continued. “wait, why are you in a mood then?”
“tired.” lando replied, monotonously. he wasn’t quite sure how to unpack this one.
“bullshit.”
“woke up alone.”
“oh.”
“she was- i don’t know. just thought it would be different, that’s all.” lando couldn’t disguise the deflated tone of his voice.
“don’t tell me you caught feelings from a shag.” max rolled his eyes, chomping away at his toast. lando could barely stomach the sight of food.
“shut up, i’m not saying i fell in love. just liked something about her.”
“well, anything can happen in vegas. you never know, mate. she might find her way back to you.”
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lando was getting ready for the netflix cup before he knew it. he’d managed to shake off max, escaping to the darkness of his room, the curtains drawn and the lights off.
he pretended it was the hangover that had him laying face down on his bed.
the last thing he wanted was to go and play corporate circus on the golfing green, but he figured some fresh air wouldn’t hurt. and so, he was in the backseat of a car well on his way to the tournament.
carlos couldn’t distract him, neither could alex or pierre. rickie fowler was much less interesting that he hoped, or maybe he wasn’t and lando just wasn’t interested enough. not even zak’s mclaren printed trousers could cheer him up.
lando was leaning into his golf club, starting mindlessly into the crowd, waiting for this garish event to begin when he caught a glimpse of someone he recognised. in a sea of influencers and obnoxious businessmen, there you were.
there you fucking were, in your knee high boots and a mini skirt, sunglasses perched on your nose, skintight top under an oversized blazer and hair shining under the warm sunlight. he lost his balance, the golf club slipping from underneath him, and the only thing that kept him upright was the burning urge to keep his eyes on you.
just who were you?
lando didn’t need to clarify whether or not you were looking at him, too. no, you made it abundantly clear by the way you winked at him, before pushing your sunglasses back up the bridge of your nose.
you fucking winked.
he took a step in your direction, shaky legs ready to carry him all the way over to you. he only had your first name and he craved your second, your phone number, anything really. he’d just take the small talk, to be completely honest.
but then the klaxon screeched, knocking him out of his trance and he whipped round to discover that they were ready to tee off. lando cursed under his breath, rapidly turning to search for your face but you were nowhere to be seen.
had he imagined you? had he imagined all of it?
every golf ball hit was hit with frustrated vengeance.
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the week disappeared in a bittersweet blur.
lando had achieved multiple hangovers and about zero dollars in winnings, but he’d successfully managed to take his mind off of you.
okay, so that was a bare faced lie, but if lando didn’t lie to himself, he wouldn’t be able to lie to anyone else.
he wouldn’t be able to lie to max that he was no longer moping. he wouldn’t be able to lie to the media when they asked him if he was oh so excited about the race. he wouldn’t be able to lie to his team when they asked him if he was still suffering the consequences of his week long hangover.
lando had been rushing around all day, after a solid p4 in qualifying the night before. the entire day had been horrendous, sequins and bright lights being shone in his eyes. all he wanted to do was hide, get in the car and then go to bed.
fate had other plans.
lando was rushing to the front of the grid for the national anthem, certain that whatever display that was about to occur would make him nauseous. he was derailed on his journey, caught by rachel brookes in the pitlane, and then accosted by martin brundle once he’d made his was onto the grid.
“good qualifying yesterday and good luck today!” martin called to lando, turning to wrestle another insufferable celebrity.
as lando was making his getaway, ready to jog through the masses of people to his place at the front, he went barrelling into another body, putting his hands out to steady himself and the poor person that had become his collateral damage. as he regained his balance, he must have looked like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his head.
“are you stalking me?” was all he could choke out when his eyes met yours.
what the actual fuck were you doing here?
lando had given up on the possibility of ever seeing you again, and yet, here you were, stood under the bright floodlights on the grid, his office. this was the last place he’d expected you to show up, paddock pass swinging from your neck. again, what the actual fuck were you doing here?
“might as well be, at this point.” you teased. “hopefully you’ll do better today than you did at golf on tuesday.” you smiled coyly up at him, tucking your hair behind your ear.
lando was on quite the time crunch, glancing at the time on the clock at the front of the grid. he had a minute to spare, if he was lucky, but he had to talk to you, before you inevitably disappeared again.
“thought i’d get at least your phone number before you left.”
“from what i hear, you don’t usually stick around long enough for those.” you smirked.
well, his reputation certainly proceeded him. he couldn’t really argue with that.
“maybe i’m trying to change that.” lando attempted to flirt but really, he sounded desperate. you didn’t seem to mind.
“i’ll make you a deal,” you proposed, leaning in just a little bit closer. lando’s breath hitched in his throat. “get on that podium, and i’ll be waiting in your hotel lobby.”
“and if i don’t?” lando’s mouth was dry.
“maybe i’ll see you next year.”
lando watched you walk away, your hips swaying tantalisingly, wondering if the hefty fine he would be bollocked with would be worth it if he didn’t move his ass for the national anthem.
this would be the drive of his fucking life.
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lando couldn’t recall a time he’d left a track faster in his life.
media duties were rushed, so was the shower he had before he fled. it was lucky he was already on the strip, so the walk to his hotel was blissfully short.
he entered the lobby with a shit eating grin and a comically large bottle of champagne in hand.
a string of second places had gotten rather frustrating, but this one felt particularly good. a podium was a podium, fair and square, and assuming you’d kept to your end of the bargain, he was in for the best celebration of his life.
sitting pretty at the bar that stretched through the lobby, you were waiting for him, heels swinging from the stool you rested on. denim clung to your hips, a dark corset style top moulding to your curves. he wondered if love at first sight was real; lust at first sight certainly was.
lando’s eyes beckoned to towards him, and you slipped inconspicuously into the elevator together, not wanting to draw too much attention to your rendezvous. it was a futile attempt, frankly, because he had you backed into the mirror before the doors had even fully shut.
kisses on your neck had your eyes fluttering closed, one of his knees slotting comfortably between your thighs. one of his hands was clasped tight around the neck of the neck of the bottle, giving lando the fantastic idea to find your neck with his free one. he held you firmly, forcing you to look at him.
“i’m gonna make you wish you never left.”
-
hours on the mattress pulling countless orgasms from one another left you both weak, exhausted, a little bit clingy.
lando felt electric. no other person had ever left him so feral, so euphoric.
he’d had you first against the door, pulling your jeans off and pinning you against it, your thighs in his firm grasp as he fucked you into the wooden panel. then, he’d taken you to bed, your knuckles turning white from your brutal grip on the headboard when he’d planted you down on his mouth. two orgasms later, you were face down in the sheets, ass in the air for him while he slammed into you like his life depended on it, pulling you into his chest by your hair when you reached your climaxes.
all that hard work called for a bath, where you both found yourselves now. it had started off quite innocently, sat at opposite ends of the extravagantly large bathtub amongst the bubbles. but then you’d given him those eyes, and then your back was pressed against his chest, your body draped over his. his head was nestled into the crook of your neck, one arm slung over your waist. his other hand brought the bottle of champagne to his lips, the liquid going down smoothly. lando pressed the bottle to your pursed lips too, trading backwards and forwards while your bodies relaxed into the hot water.
lando’s hand on your waist was getting restless, fingers drumming over your abdomen, up, up, up, until he found your breast. he circled your nipple with his finger, not quite touching the bud yet, but he could feel it hardening from his scarce touch. your hips rolled backwards into his, feeling him hardening once again against your lower back. lando cupped your breast, massaging it in his hands before he switched, flitting between your tits.
you slumped somehow even further into him, not a millimetre of space between your bodies. he was winding you up beautifully, heat burning between your legs once more. you didn’t know how you did it, how you could be so ready for each other after the eventful evening you’d already shared.
lando was flicking your nipples between his finger, switching back and fourth until you were moaning quietly. you took charge, the sensitivity building too quickly, and so you rolled over in his arms, clambering into his lap.
the bath water splashed around you, moving in small waves across the tub as you situated yourself on top of him, grinding down on him until he was buried deep within your walls. he found that spot, rolling your hips against his, and then you were rocking up and down on him, nice and slow. he touched parts of you that never had been before, the pace and the angle intensifying every little sensation. your head was thrown back, hands clawing at his shoulders for something to hold onto, just for the feel of him.
lando reached over the edge of the bathtub, blindly searching for the bottle he’d discarded while you’d been switching positions. he felt the green glass grazing his fingertips and brought it back to his lips, eyes trailing over your body in sheer awe.
he couldn’t help himself, taking a sip before tilting it towards you, pouring the golden bubbles over your clavicle, jaw tightening - just like your cunt did at the sensation - as he watched the sticky alcohol drip down over the curve of your bouncing breasts.
you quivered when you felt his tongue lap over your nipple, then the other, dragging over your sodden flesh until he reached the junction between your neck and your shoulder. he bit down, hard, eyes rolling back at the taste in his mouth and the way you clamped down around him, whimpering out between breathless pants.
lando felt you let go, stuttering on his cock and sinking down on top of him, the water - now lukewarm - soothing your tired limbs. he held you close, basking in the intimacy of the moment, his hearing honing in on the dull hum of ecstasy you expelled.
the bath grew colder and colder as you sat there, comfortable silence filling the air along with the quiet rush of water that came with any movements made. when the time came, lando held you up as you got off of him and stepped onto the plush rug, quickly following suit. you were eyeing the shower when he turned to hand you a towel.
“i think i need a shower, as much as i enjoyed the bath.” you spoke, opening the screen and stepping in to adjust the knobs.
lando weighed up his options, agonising over joining you or doing his back in. he couldn’t exactly tell his trainer that his back gave out from too much sex.
“am i invited?” lando asked, stepping in behind you, hands on your waist.
“seems like you’ve already invited yourself.” you teased, looking at him over your shoulder.
“no funny business, you.” lando rested his head on your shoulder.
“from me? you’re just as bad.” you quipped, letting the hot warm stream all over your flushed bodies.
lando stayed as he was for a second, but then you turned your head again, looking at him from the corner of your eye and he needed to kiss you. he couldn’t help but, and so he twisted you round to face him and leaned in. you were more than receptive, fingers raking through his wet curls.
the hot water rained down on you while you stood there, holding each other close. lando couldn’t put his finger on it, why he didn’t want to let you go. he couldn’t even begin to process the idea of having anyone else in his arms like this. it was absurd, really, but he was too caught up in the moment to care.
when you were both clean and dry, you laid down in bed, gazing mindlessly at one another. his eyes followed the lines of your face, the curve of your lips. he learned a lot about you, a formula 1 fan with who ran her own business and took herself on holiday to vegas. the conversation flowed like the champagne had and you were laughing at all his stupid jokes. in turn he grinned like a fool at your quick wit, the sound of your laughter.
“so what are you doing next? back to work?” lando asked, an idea forming in his mind like a tornado.
“nope,” you popped the p. “giving myself some well deserved time off.”
“have you ever been to abu dhabi?” lando asked, lips quirking mischievously.
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okay-babe · 4 months
Note
Saw your Alastor request game and HAD to give it a try
A wholesome “ZIP ME”. Alastor helping with getting ready for the day or assist and just shows appreciation 🥰🥰🥰🥰
In love with you for requesting this prompt because I am in such a fluff writing mood rn <3
(Also for my anons who also requested this prompt, I still plan to write something for those as well, so they should be out before too long!)
Morning Routine
tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, extreme levels of fluff, domestic bliss, soft alastor
Throughout your life (and death) you had woken up to many a nice view, from the rivers and lush wetlands of Louisiana to the sight of the city hundreds of feet below you.
And yet, none compared to the view of your beloved when he was half-ready for his day, which was typically the stage at which he woke you from your always deep and well needed slumber.
And today was no different.
Alastor hummed a distantly familiar tune from behind your still sleeping form as he slid in beside you on the bed you shared, body resting atop the covers as he leaned forward to press a kiss behind your ear. In response, you shifted slightly, nose scrunching the smallest bit as your lover's breaths tickled the soft flesh he had so very recently offered his affections to.
Alastor chuckled slightly under his breath at the sight, raising a gloved hand up to the exposed portion of your upper arm to run a feather-light touch down its length, immediately causing you to shiver.
After a few more moments of tickling breaths and nearly fleeting touches, your breathing pattern shifted slightly, eyes blinking open and squinting at the sudden invasion of light that was always there to greet you each morning.
Groaning softly, you were quick to close your eyelids once more, brow furrowed with displeasure at your wakefulness as the Radio Demon laughed beside you.
"Why good morning, dearest, how lovely to see you!"
He teased exuberantly as you huffed in reply, just barely opening your eyes enough to make it obvious that you were glaring at him before closing them once more to yawn.
"Ah ah ah,"
Your lover tutted from beside you, his grin wide and immensely amused as he continued,
"I'm afraid the time for rest is over, my dear. No more exhaustion allowed."
You scoffed in response, only just barely fighting off the urge to flip him off as you sat up slightly, tugging your knees toward your chest and blinking your blurred vision away to the sound of barely moving water and a whispered breeze that always seemed to flow through the far less inhabitable side of the room you and your husband slept in.
Satisfied with your vague efforts to get up for the day, Alastor hummed in contentment, standing just as he always did after waking you so he could continue his typical routine, allowing your hungry eyes to follow him eagerly.
It was like this every morning, and you'd be a fool to believe he didn't know and find some semblance of amusement within it, but even still you couldn't bring yourself to care.
You gained far too much enjoyment from watching your love's lithe and nimble fingers do up the buttons of his shirt and tie the fabric of his bow tie to feel any shame over it.
Or, at least, enough shame to make you stop.
You continued your enraptured staring for several more minutes, eyes trained heavily on the view of the overlord rolling up his sleeves and sliding his belt through the loops of his dress slacks as if he were a modern art exhibit designed to utterly enthrall you.
Your gawking continued all the way up until Alastor turned back toward where you were sitting upon the bed, his head tilted slightly in mock curiosity as he began to approach you once more, donning all but his coat, a sight which made you blush in spite of yourself.
Sure, you had known the demon for an extremely long time and had seen him in far more compromising and promiscuous positions and outfits than this, but still. There was just something about the sight of him, dress shirt sleeves rolled up over his elbows and svelte torso and legs so clearly in view, that made your heart rate quicken inside your chest.
"You're going to be late, you know."
Alastor all but crooned suddenly, snapping you out of your reverie with a few quick blinks and an awkward clear of your throat.
"Huh?"
You asked, sitting up slightly further as your lover began to leisurely unfold the clothing he'd laid out for you at the foot of the bed earlier that morning, no doubt all too aware of how slow you were prone to waking up and hoping to save some time.
The overlord chuckled, a subtle shake of his head highlighting his amusement as he looked in your direction once more, red eyes lingering in a manner that reminded you of just how tremendously the being standing at the end of the bed adored you.
He regarded you with a gentle and exasperated fondness as he replied,
"The reopening is today, dear heart."
He purred, grin as wide as ever as he approached further, extending his hand outward and helping to maneuver you so your legs were hanging off the side of the bed, ignoring the sudden panic in your expression brought on by his words and quickly silencing it before it could be vocalized with a quick press of his lips to yours.
He pulled away slowly afterward, index finger curling beneath your chin and lifting it to ensure you were looking him in the eye,
"And whatever would we do without our darling front desk receptionist there to woo our guests on sight?"
His tone was teasing now, lilting and oh-so amused as he took both of your hands in his and slowly pulled you upward and onto your feet, humming that same distantly familiar tune from earlier all the while.
"Not to worry though."
Alastor continued with a mocking tap of his index finger against the tip of your nose,
"With my help you'll be up and ready with time to spare."
He winked at that, instantly causing you to roll your eyes before knowingly bringing your arms up above your head, causing your love's grin to widen further at your immediate understanding of what was to come.
"Well look at you!"
He cried with feigned surprise and delight as he grasped gently at the hem of your sleep shirt, tugging it upward and over your head with a flourish before he knelt down before you and pulled your underwear downward just the same, his eyes never once leaving yours as he did so.
"You're becoming a regular pro at this, darling."
You scoffed a bit at that, though your lack of exasperation was made clear by the lifted corners of your mouth, never quite able to lay flat with your Alastor around.
Humming a different tune now, the sinner reached behind you on the bed to grasp at a new pair of undergarments for you, holding them open to make them easy to step into before pulling them up and rising with them, laying the fabric flat upon your hips before moving to help you with your bra.
Far too used to this process by now, you simply sighed and let your lover do as he would, your still tired body leaning into his every touch as he ran skilled fingertips up and down your spine and pressed them dexterously into the tense muscles of your shoulders until he felt you were sufficiently relaxed beneath his hands.
Once that was finished, he was quick to have you sit upon the bed, long fingers grabbing at your stockings and garters and bunching them up expertly before sliding them onto your feet and up your soft legs and thighs with ease, though he was notably slower with this task than he'd been with the previous two, taking his time to admire you and allowing his hands to feel your skin before covering it with the fabric in his grasp.
When he was finally satisfied with the state of your stockings, Alastor leaned back slightly, taking in the sight of you with a pleased smile and an ever adoring look in his eye before he placed twin kisses against the skin just above where your garters held your stockings into place, as if in farewell.
It was then and only then, with his desires to admire you satisfied (at least in part) that your beloved grabbed your work attire from the bed. It was something he had chosen for you himself when considering the concept of uniforms, a sweet yet professional looking black dress that you knew from having tried it on a few days prior fit you perfectly, (no doubt because your lover had long since memorized your measurements and given them to the tailor himself).
Pooling the rich fabric at your feet, Alastor looked up at you expectantly, and immediately, you stepped into the middle of it, allowing him to once more pull another garment up your body, rising with it as he had previously with your underwear until your arms were in the sleeves and all there was left to do was zip up the back.
Feeling the cool breeze upon your spine, you shivered slightly, the difference in temperatures striking.
"Al,"
You murmured, adjusting your hair to ensure it wouldn't get in the way of what came next,
"Would you mind?"
Immediately, the overlord was nodding in almost enthusiastic agreement, motioning for you to turn around for him to provide access to the still unzipped portion of your dress.
"Why of course not, dear heart. Let me see."
Blushing at the nickname in spite of it having seen years of persistent use, you did as you were told, turning 180 degrees until you were facing away from your lover, back bared to him so his deft fingers could easily find the gold trimmed zipper there.
Grasping onto the metal between his thumb and forefinger, the demon slowly began to tug it upward with a notable level of patience, his opposite hand moving to your shoulder to push at some of the fabric there until he'd created a patch of bare flesh to press a few soft kisses to, his teeth nipping at you ever so gently from time to time just to make you jump in surprise at the unexpected sensation.
This continued for a few quiet and very much appreciated moments until finally, the overlord moved away with a dramatized sigh, pulling the black fabric of your sleeve back over your shoulder before he finished zipping your dress up the rest of the way.
Hearing your darling take a step back from where he'd been standing just behind you, you were quick to turn around to face him, your smile growing brighter when you saw the immediate fondness and adoration in his eyes, that thinly veiled softness he reserved solely for you so very apparent that it made your heart lurch happily inside of your chest.
"What do you think, Al, am I presentable?"
You asked lightheartedly, giving him a slow spin as if wanting to make sure he saw every possible angle.
Alastor all but scoffed in response, though his eyes betrayed his affections far too obviously, making it easy to tell just how much he was enjoying your slightly slower morning together.
"Don't be silly darling, you're always the belle of the ball."
He teased, reaching out to take one of your hands in his eyes as he spoke, using it to tug you closer until you were nearly chest to chest with him, eyes widened in surprise.
The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, warm, loving, and slow, before he finally pulled away with a sigh, expression contented and smile exceedingly genuine.
"Come on then, dear."
He said after a moment of silence, stepping away once more to guide you toward the bathroom attached to the room the two of you slept in,
"Let's finish getting you ready before Charlotte sends poor Vagatha after us for being so late."
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margotw10bis · 2 months
Text
Welcome Back.JJK [m]
Tumblr media
bestfriend!Jungkook x female Reader
Genre: drabble; smut (basically just porn)
Words: 3.6k
Synopsis: After almost two years of military service, you finally meet your best friend again. While you have planned a cosy night, his plans are a little bit on the physical side.
Warnings: oral sex (f. receiving); dom!jk/sub!reader; unprotected sex; rough sex; praising kink; big dick jk; hair pulling; spanking; crying of how good sex is; choking
18 months.
You've waited 18 months to see him again. You diligently mark each day on your calendar, waiting for him. The few weekends he was allowed in the civil life weren't enough to do everything you wanted and honestly, he was so tired that most of the time he just ate and slept.
But today it's different. Because Jungkook is finally free from service. You finally have your best friend back.
You've planned everything for your encounter: cake, embarrassing sign saying 'I CAN TAKE MY BUNNY HOME' and a whole night of snacks, games and movies, just like you used to do before Jungkook got into the army.
You're not the only one waiting for a loved one. A small group of friends and family have gathered in front of the military base, waiting for the soldiers to get off duty for good.
You are clearly feeling impatient, bouncing on one foot to the other. When some squeaks are heard from the crowd, you try to get a visual on the men coming outside by standing on your tiptoes but it's in vain. The only thing you see is a bunch of shaved heads...
It's only when some reunions decide to step aside that you finally see him. And gosh, you are so happy that you could fly. A big fat smile paints your face and Jungkook mimics you when he notices you and your sign.
He looks a little bit tired but he looks good anyway. The months he has spent in the army got him buffer — even though he was already a gym rat — and his military uniform just increases that. His hair is definitely short but he clearly let it grow a little. Honestly, he looks like a kiwi. A cute kiwi.
And his bunny smile is just the same: sweet and feeling like home.
When Jungkook walks to you and hugs you tight, you can't help but shed a tear.
"I missed you so much" You whisper, tightening your arms around his neck — you don't care if you're strangling him at this point
"Missed you too" He whispers back
"And..." You say as you are scooting away to grab the box you left on the ground "I got you a cake!"
Your excitement peaks through your voice, making Jungkook chuckles.
-----
It really feels like old times.
Jungkook's apartment hasn't changed at all. Well, you've been there a few times just to make sure that there wasn't any leaks from the upper flat, or to open the windows to change the air. But you missed it with Jungkook inside. It's like the whole place takes his energy.
As Jungkook takes care of his bag in his room, you settle everything you have prepared on his coffee table: cake and games. Several times a week, you were spending evenings together and you really want to find back this atmosphere.
You happily clap in your hands when your best friend appears in the living room. You light up the candles on the cake and start singing — not so good but you don't care — 'Welcome back, Kookie'.
Jungkook blows the candles and sits next to you on the couch. He has changed his clothes, opting for a style you know very well: baggy black t-shirt and oversized black sweatpants. He must feel good to finally dress as he wants.
"So" You start, already excited about this night "I have UNO, Monopoly, Cluedo but we can also play something on your Switch or we can watch a movie. I heard that the new one with Ryan Gosling is very n—"
"Y/N" Jungkook stops you
You can see he is a little embarrassed at the way he scratches his neck.
"Yes? Tell me" You encourage him, your usual sweet smile on your lips
"I don't want to be rude or anything, because it's super sweet what you've done but..." Your best friend chews on his lower lip — he used to chew his lip rings but they're gone "It's just that... I haven't done it for almost two years and I was expected to, you know, do it tonight"
Jungkook has a light blush on his cheeks that indicates that he is not as relaxed as his manspreading on the couch lets think.
But you're a little confused. You don't understand what he is trying to say.
"You don't want to play the games?" You try and Jungkook shakes his head lightly but doesn't dare to look at you "And you want to 'do it'? You mean going live on Twitch?"
Jungkook growls in frustration. It's so weird to talk about that with you. You're his best friend, it's not really the kind of conservations you two have.
"No!" He whines "God, Y/N, I want to fuck!"
You're speechless. And blushed. Because gosh, you never talk about that and you're also embarrassed not to have thought about it. You totally get that Jungkook wants to... blow off some steam.
You just didn't realize that he might have called one of the numerous girls that were crushing on him before he went to the army and asked her to join him tonight.
"Oh" You manage to say "I—" You clear your throat "I'll get going then. You can call me tomorrow or whenever"
You quickly stand up and try to hide the redness of your face. But Jungkook grabs your hand and pulls you down. You clumsily land on his lap, setting your knees on both sides of his hips last second to avoid hurting him.
Your heart stops at the intimate position. Never in a billion years you could have imagined being like this with your best friend. Your breathing stops too as you get to see Jungkook's face so close, maybe for the first time in your four years of friendship. He is handsome, always has been, so you don't know where to look: his eyes — not in their usual doe shape but way more intense —, his cute bubble nose or his lips. Yeah, your eyes definitely settle on them, especially when he slyly licks them and coats them with a thin and shiny layer of saliva.
You gulp and don't really know what to do. Yet, it seems very easy for Jungkook because his big and warm hands caress your waist, sending shivers down your spine.
"Let me fuck you. Please"
You don't know if he is begging or ordering because his voice is so hoarse. It's really, really hard to resist. And maybe his hot breathe caressing your face makes you a little high because you nod.
You fucking nod at your best friend asking if he can fuck you.
Worse, you feel aroused by the idea if you consider how your pussy is getting wet.
In just one second, Jungkook's lips are on yours. The kiss is not sweet at all, it's rough and urging. You're never witnessed this side of Jungkook and you already can tell that he loves being in control. He always has been the nice and caring friend but right now, he is like a starved man. His inked hand settles at the back of your neck, preventing you from escaping but you have absolutely no willing to do so.
His mouth literally owns yours, pressing his lips so hard that your teeth clink but it's not like you really care — this awesome kiss fogs your brain with horniness. He slides his tongue between your lips and you hum at his velvet muscle against yours.
His hands tightens their grip, bringing you closer to him. Your boobs are pressed against his torso and there is no another place for your arms but around his neck. His short hair tickles your fingers but it feels so soft at the same time. Too bad the kiss completely occupies your brain that you can't appreciate the sensation in your fingertips.
As Jungkook abandons your swollen lips for your neck, his hands are traveling down to rest on your hips as they urge you to grind on his hardening cock. You roll your hips, pressing your core against his crotch and gosh, it feels good. You are so, so glad you've chosen leggings today because you can feel his bulge. You press harder and harder against it, trying to satisfy the need of friction your throbbing clit demands. You are so, so wet that it's embarrassing.
You can't help a sweet moan from escaping your lip and it seems to make Jungkook crazy. He lifts up your body to make you lay on your back and grabs the hem of your leggings, tugging on them and your panties at the same time. You're surprised that he doesn't slide your clothes all the way down but stops mid-thighs, just enough to get a full view of your cunt, already glistening with arousal.
You don't even have time to grow embarrassed at the idea of your best friend looking at your pussy because Jungkook is in a rush.
"Pretty" He whispers with a hot smirk right before he dives into it
His hands strongly maintain your legs up against your chest while his tongue rolls around your clit. It feels so fucking good that you can't think straight. Maybe that's why you can't have enough sense to mutter your loud moans.
Jungkook changes his pattern by taking a big fat lap from your entrance, gathering on his tongue your arousal that was starting to drop through your hole. Your head rolls back and your hips buckle up just to feel more of him.
"Taste fucking sweet" He praises and you don't know why you feel so proud of it
The wet sounds of his mouth on your cunt are sinful and at this point, you don't know if your pussy is covered by your arousal or Jungkook's spit but you don't care. It's even hotter than he is eating you out so messily. The sloppy sounds are scandalous but it arouses so much that you feel like going crazy.
When he harshly sucks on your sensitive bud, you gasp and shut your eyes close. Your hands desperately try to hold on something but there is nothing to help you down the path of this pleasure.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god" You keep moaning
You're close, you know it. Your pussy keeps clenching around nothing and Jungkook's tongue doesn't slow down. His hands grips the flesh of your thighs harder, surely marking you with bruises, so you don't escape from the unbearable pleasure. And then, Jungkook decides to bring you straight to Heaven when his wet muscle enters you as deep as possible, making his nose bump into your clit. Your restrained legs due to your leggings and his grip only add to your arousal. You've never felt so overwhelmed by pleasure before but here you are: being eaten out by your best friend.
"Kookie, wait, I'm gonna— I'm gonna—" But you never finish your sentence
You scream something that sounds like his name as your legs shake in his grip and you cum on your best friend's face. Your walls clench around his vicious tongue that happily gathers your arousal pouring from your hole. You even feel him smirking against your cunt while he takes a final lap.
"Sweet juicy pussy" He says, making your blush "You're cute when you cum on my tongue, baby"
You don't really have time to catch your breathe because Jungkook grabs your waist and tosses you around so you're on your knees. He makes sure to bring your ass up, landing a harsh spank on your flesh. The stinging pain brings tears to your eyes but wetness to your pussy.
You rest your head on your couch, obediently waiting for Jungkook to pursue his needs.
"You're so fucking cute like that, your pussy full on display for me only, right?" He praises and claims you and doesn't miss how you clench
You both didn't know you had a praising kink but Jungkook will sure use it.
"You're gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you dumb, aren't you?"
You can feel the heat on your cheeks and you grow impatient to feel him inside you. Jungkook's hot, that's a fact. And the way he is acting right now makes you know that you won't be disappointed in his sex skills — not really surprising since Jungkook is good at everything.
You nod to answer, afraid to moan rather than to form words but it doesn't satisfy Jungkook. Another spank, way rougher than the first one, lands on your asscheek, making your jolt. A red mark in the shape of his palm instantly appears on your plump skin in the hottest way possible for your best friend. A sob leaves your mouth but you don't have time to realize it because Jungkook's tattooed hand goes up to gently caress your cheek, swiping away the tears.
"Talk when I ask you to"
His tone is quite severe and you're surprised how sexy you find it. You're never witnessed the dominant side of your best friend before, since you always saw him as a cute bunny.
"Yes" You reply, so politely, so innocently while your ass is up for your fucking best friend
"Good girl"
You hear some rustling of clothes, a sign that Jungkook is getting rid off of his shirt and slides down his sweatpants and briefs mid-thighs too.
You turn your head just enough to watch him pumping his absolutely huge cock. Your eyes widen as you wonder if you'll be able to take him. You haven't had a lot of partners but they surely can't compare with Jungkook's size.
The slight fear on your face is delightful for your best friend. He can see your pussy is tight and he can't wait to stretch your hole like it deserves to be. Honestly, he didn't plan to fuck you tonight. He thought he was going to text a random girl but after all, you're his best friend and you're the one who has planned a welcoming party.
Grabbing his thick dick at its base, Jungkook pats your sensitive clit with his tip. You jolt but moan, instinctively pushing your hips towards him. Some sticky links connect your pussy and his member in the most sinful way. Jungkook teases you again, rubbing his angry tip against your clit just to hear you groan his name.
However, he knows he won't last long and he has waited too long for a teasing game.
His free hand roughly grabs your asscheek, spreading it so he can fully see your beautiful cunt clenching. He lets a blob of spit slide along your puckered hole and down your pussy so he can penetrate you easily — actually, you are wet enough for that but your best friend just likes it messy.
He brings his cock to your entrance and pushes in. The tip is enough to stretch you out so much that the air is kicked out of your lungs. Your mouth opens, unable to make any sound, and your hand desperately grabs his forearm.
"You're so big" You gasp, another tear rolling down your cheek
It doesn't help that you're in this position: you can feel him better like this, aware of every since inch inside you.
"Too much?" Jungkook asks, genuinely worried
Despite how horny he is, he doesn't want to hurt you. If you tell him right now to stop, he'll do. Even though the way your walls throb are so fucking good, and he has just put the tip.
"No, it's okay. Just—" You take a deep breathe "Just wait a sec" You say
Jungkook nods and draws some soothing circles on your asscheek. And it works: he can feel you relaxing which allows him to slide more inches of his cock into your tight cunt.
You won't lie: the stretch is almost unbearable but the sensation of being so full makes you high. Way beyond clouds. You're feeling completely euphoric of your best friend's dick inside you.
"Fuck, you fill me up so good" You can't help but confess
"You're such a good girl, baby, taking me all" He smirks, rewarded you with a nice spank on your already red ass
When all his length is swallowed by your dripping cunt, you feel him deep, deep inside. You need a minute to get used to his size but it's damn hard for Jungkook to stay still when he has been waiting for so long and when you poor dripping cunt squeezes him so tightly. He can't control how his dick twitches, making you moan and clench tighter.
Your best friend attempts a faint dick stroke, earning a gasp or a moan from you, he can't define but the bliss on your face is unmistakable. This spurs him to pull out more, until just his tip is caged between your walls, and to slam back inside completely.
"Fuck, Kookie" You moan
"You like that, uh?" You nod frenetically, especially when Jungkook provides a rough cock stroke "Who knew you were such a good slut"
You don't quite know what to respond when Jungkook fucks you so good that your brain can't work. You just moan loudly, not caring one bit about Mrs. Kim, his 83 year-old neighbor.
The strength of Jungkook's poundings makes you jolt and if he wasn't holding you tight by digging his nails into the flesh of your ass, you'd be completely resting on your stomach by now. Even though his grip will surely bruise you, you absolutely don't give a fuck, not when you have such a good dick inside you.
"Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby" He hisses when you clench around him
You're not sure you'll last long. And maybe your body is not connected to your head anymore because it only seems to seek for your release. You start to bounce back on Jungkook's cock, slapping your ass against his lap each time.
Your best friend watches in awe how naughty you become despite your usual innocence and he just wants to see your fucked up face more. For that, he grabs a good amount of your hair and tugs on it. Your back is so fucking arched that it feels like you're going to break in two but you don't care. The only thing you can feel is this good cock in you.
"Kookie, I'm so close" You whine
Jungkook might have the same goal as you: making you cum, because he wraps his other arm around your chest and lifts up against his torso. He makes sure to have a strong hold on you and forcefully provides you his amazing dick strokes.
The new angle is the perfect one, his cock hitting your sweet spot repeatedily and you have no other choice than to gasp. You've never been fucked this good and you don't even know how to breathe correctly anymore.
Jungkook's growls of pleasure as he buries his face in the crook of your neck and the sound of your skins clapping fog your brain. You grab his tattooed hand and place it around your throat. Jungkook gets the message and chokes you.
"You're such a naughty girl" He teases you, bitting your skin as he gives you powerful poundings "I'm sure that you like being fucked dumb, right baby?"
"Yes!" You scream despite your blocked throat
You're high on sex and low on oxygen: the perfect mix to bring you on cloud nine. It's like Jungkook already knows all the things you love about sex. But he is your best friend, he knows everything else so why not that? And if he is so good with you, then you don't mind sharing all your secrets with him.
"You're gonna come for me?"
You nod at that but almost bend over when Jungkook's vicious fingers find your clit despise your tied legs. He is circling it so fast that your legs shiver. Thankfully, his large palm around your air column prevents you from escaping his delightful treatment.
"Fuck, Kookie" You sob, shaking in his hold
"Cum for me, cum on my cock" He urges you "I know that you're a good girl and good girls cum when they are told to do so"
The specific knot builds inside you, and you don't know what you are saying anymore. You are not even aware of your tears on your cheeks and the drool at the edge of your mouth anymore. Your toes curl and you dig your nails in his forearms when you reach your high. White dots paint your vision, even though your eyes are closed.
You might be screaming Jungkook's name but you're not sure. You are just too far gone.
You fall miserably on your couch, trying your best to keep your ass up because your best friend hasn't stopped nor slowed down one bit. He has pushed you all the way through your orgasm and even beyond, so much that it's almost barely impossible for you to take him anymore. His dick is just too big, stretching your walls that are begging to clench.
"Please, Kookie" You beg, tears of overstimulation appearing on your face "Come now, I can't— I can't anymore"
"I'm almost there, hold on for me" Jungkook reassures you, his voice a little softer
He knows that you are taking more than you can right now: the way your body shakes is a clear sign. He is close too and a last slap on your abused ass helps him.
He pulls out suddenly, leaving your hole gaping and stupidly empty, and pumps his soaked with your juices cock to cum on your ass. The contrast between your red asscheeks and his thick white seeds is perfect. Jungkook pants while he looks at his masterpiece, a satisfied smirked on his lips.
Exhausted, you fall on his couch, almost falling asleep right after.
"You're okay?" He worries
"Uhm, uhm" You nod
"It's the best welcome party ever" He brightly smiles at your tired face and you can't help but give his smile back "Thank you so much, Y/N"
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sweatervest-obsessed · 3 months
Text
Some angst for your morning <3 Love a little fight scene.
wc: 700 (ish)
"You're trying to distract me."
You hummed and shook your head, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
It was very obvious that you were, in fact, trying to distract Spencer from his work. But you couldn't help yourself!
He had been ordered to take the weekend off, Hotch crediting 'burnout' as his reasoning. Spencer did not take likely to this, since it made him feel as though he was slipping, he wasn't good enough for the team.
You, however, were thrilled by the fact that Spencer was forced to take a long weekend.
"Yes. You are."
"Well maybe if you actually took the time off like you were suposed to instead of ignoring me all fucking weekend then we wouldn't have to make me feel like shit for asking for attention from you for one minute." You muttered under your breath, chucking the pillow down where you had been sitting, moving towards the kitchen and away from the living room.
What Spencer had failed to consider was just how happy you were to have him home for a weekend. He failed to recognize the assurance that came with him telling you his definitive whereabouts for three days. He failed to notice the tension leave your shoulders, the smile that edged it way onto your face. Spencer was too busy internalizing what Hotch had said about working to much to realize, that you were hoping to spend this time with him.
Not just sitting in the same room as him as he barely slept and did the exact opposite of what Hotch told him to do.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing." Came your voice from the other room, causing Spencer to frown, because he knew what you said, and he knew that you knew what he said---he could start to see the burnout when he realized how quickly he would spiral in his thoughts.
"Shit."
Placing the book down on the coffee table, he followed where you had gone to, stopping in the door frame.
"What do you want Spencer." Tone flat.
"I-I...You were hoping for more time together this weekend."
You snorted and turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. "Someone is finally back on their profiling game I see."
This caused Spencer's cheek to tinge red. He had failed to notice the basic signs of you being upset--Hotch was right. He did need time off.
"I'm sorry."
"That would mean more if it wasn't Monday night and you didn't have work tomorrow."
Spencer dragged a hand down his face. "I don't want to fight."
"I do." You said simply, looking at him expectantly. You were pissed, rightfully so. And up until now, you hadn't said anything. Admittedly, you should have said something to Spencer earlier. However, you were sure that Spencer wouldn't have actually given you his time or focus if you did.
"I--" He just looked at you. "I really don't know what to say to that."
"That's fine. You don't need to say anything. Maybe you should work on your listening skills instead."
"That's not--"
"Fair? I don't know, I think it is. Hotch told you to take the long weekend off to give your brain a break. And did you listen to him? No. I told you about plans I was hoping we would make for this weekend on Friday, that I know you didn't remember. And this whole weekend, you never actually listened to me, barely processing anything I said."
You took a breath, trying to calm yourself down in the moment, but not diminishing your thoughts, because you were right. And Spencer knew it to.
"What can I do to make it up to you."
You looked at him for a moment before shaking your head. "I really don't know Spence. I don't know." You brushed past him, headed towards the bedroom. It's not to say that you lost your fighting spirit, it's just that you were so severely let down by the man you loved that you didn't really know what to say anymore.
Spencer was unsure as to what to do. So he just stood there, watching as you walked away, not moving to stop you. Only flinching when the door to your shared bedroom slammed, and he was still on the other side of it.
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