#Will was the one that didn’t want to go down the hill
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slide || chris sturniolo
almost ?SMUT. MINORS STILL DNI 18+. everybody put your hands together for drug dealer chris!
Chris wasn’t a fan of doing anyone favors.
He enjoyed it in the beginning, befriending anyone he could to buy and sell product. Doing favors, asking favors. Establishing a long term fruitful relationship of trust. It was fun, his circle now so tight knit he couldn’t see past it.
What he didn’t enjoy, was his two brothers at his doorstep asking him for what he considered to be a massive favor. He had known about your existence for a while, purposefully ignoring you. After all, you were just another girl that Matt was probably fucking. Chris couldn’t help but wonder if he was wrong, both Nick and Matt acting like you were the most important person on the planet.
“So you see when he broke up with her she got super fuckin sad-”
“And usually we’ve made every effort to keep an eye on her-”
“But there’s a party tonight and we’re afraid she might wonder off and hookup with a sleezebag she might regret-”
“So we were just wondering if you could help us keep an eye on her since you um-” Nicks eyes briefly flickered into Chris’s room. “You know, sell at these kinds of things.”
Chris rolled his eyes. He never understood this kind of attachment, whether it was platonic or something more. “Ight fine, if she comes my way i’ll check on her.”
Chris didn’t need these parties, quite frankly. He sold enough cocaine to the bitches with rich daddy’s in beverly hills to where he didn’t even need to consider being here. But abandoning his original client base wasn’t honest, especially when the consumers hunger palette was diverse. He kept cocaine away from these parties, his display full of the usual pill bottles with weed and different party drugs.
He knew the owner of this house well, his set up upstairs in the attic. It was quiet enough to where it wouldn’t be discovered if you weren’t looking for it. A small brown table sat in front of the coffee he was sprawling across, a joint hanging from his lips. He decided to take his time weighing and separating the rest of the weed, nothing else better happening anyways. Chris knew not being honest with his brothers was wrong, but he didn’t feel any remorse.
The further your goody two shoe’s ass stayed away from him the better.
The night was going by smoothly for Chris, his usual customers eager to drop in and buy whatever they wanted. He had completely forgotten about you, until he heard a set of heels coming upstairs. Chris knew this meant one of two things. Either a girl was coming to buy, most likely offering head as payment or someone was lost. His blue eyes flickered up to the staircase, a very unsteady you appearing through the smoky haze.
Your eyes met his, an electric shock going down Chris’s spine. “Oh shit, you’re Chris aren’t you?” You asked, offering him a small smile. Chris removed the joint from his lips, kashing it out on the table. “Depends on who’s asking,” He replied, his face smug. You ignored his smugness walking over to him. You extended your hand for a handshake. “I’m y/n, i’m friends with Matt and Nick. You guys uh, kinda share the same face,” You say. Chris eyed you carefully. “So you’re the sad girl,” He hummed.You seemed completely harmless and if anything, absolutely adorable. Chris met your hand, giving you a firm handshake. “I would introduce myself but you already know who I am,” He huffed, resuming weighing the weed in his other hand.
Your gaze wondered over to his product table, one of his eyebrows raising. “You interested in buying kid?” He asked. You were soaking in the entirety of the table, examining every little thing. You swallowed, nodding. “Yeah, i’ll take some molly,” You say, reaching into your skirt for some cash. Chris audibly scoffed. “The fuck you will,” He spat. Your eyebrows furrowed, staring down at him. His legs were spread, his gaze now falling onto that pretty face of yours. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, crossing your arms.
Chris chuckled. “You’ve never touched a joint in your life. I’m not selling you pills because you’re going through some shit,” He said harshly. Your face fell, your defensive stance changing into one of embarrassment. Chris was a harsh person, his words stinging more than he usual meant for them to. “Sorry kid, I won’t let you hurt yourself,” Chris apologized quietly. Your eyes were glazed with sadness, the kind Chris was all too familiar with. He cleared his throat, grabbing a freshly rolled joint from his product table. He held it up to you. “I’ll let you smoke this, as long as you let me teach you how to inhale properly,” Chris offered, giving you a small smile.
“How much?” You asked, reaching into your skirt for your wadded up twenties. Chris held up one hand, signaling for you to stop. “I’ll cover it, first joints are rare and your case, free,” He said, holding the joint up to show you. Your face lit up like a christmas tree, your heels clicking as you joined him on the couch. Chris brought the joint to his lips, grabbing a lighter from his jeans pocket. Your beautiful eyes were filled with curiosity and wonder, watching as he sparked the lighter. The flame ignited the joint, Chris’s lungs inhaling and soaking in the high. He exhaled through his nose, handing you the joint. “Alright kid, take it slow. Just inhale,” Chris guided, watching you slowly put the joint to your lips.
You were so cute and innocent, Chris finding himself softly chuckling as you inhaled. You immediately coughed, Chris digging in his backpack and handing you a water bottle. The gesture was sweeter than he meant it to be, your eyes watering as you grabbed the plastic bottle from him. He watched you gulp the water, the joint sitting between your fingertips. The kash was about to fall on your bare knee, Chris’s hand quickly falling on yours to grab the joint. “Shit kid don’t burn yourself,” Chris murmured, another electric shock flying down his spine as his hand brushed against yours.
Chris had hoped you hadn’t noticed the subtle heat rushing to his cheeks. Or his reaction to the comforting warmth of your hand. Thankfully you were too occupied in chugging your water, your throat engulfed in unfamiliar flames. You set the bottle of water down, giggling as you looked over at Chris. Your eyes were full of determination, a mischievous smile creeping up your lips.
“Can I try again?”
Chris had to admit you were cute, trying to inhale the joint the way he was instructing you to. It was refreshing being around a girl who wasn’t trying to impress him or get something from him. A girl who wasn’t from his side of the street. It felt like no time had passed when you had finally learned how to properly inhale. “There you go kid. You’ll be able to ghost in no time i’m sure,” Chris said, patting your knee. You exhaled the smoke, passing the joint back to Chris.
He watched goosebumps spread across your skin, his eyebrows furrowing. You were in something awfully skimpy, a black leather skirt and a matching top that made your breast stick out. Chris concluded this outfit wasn’t yours, surely. “Are you cold?” He asked suddenly. You were about to question him, the brunette answering the question for you. He shrugged off his gray jacket, handing it to you. “Put it on. I don’t wanna hear it from my brothers if you get sick,” He said, making an excuse to make sure you were warm. You also looked painfully cute in his jacket.
Your eyes trailed over his chest in his white wife beater as you shrugged the jacket on. It reeked of weed and cologne, a mixture you were beginning to love. “Thank you,” You say quietly. It was oversized on you, the cool air seemingly unnerving Chris. The silence that ensued was comforting, a compliment fixing to spill from his lips. Instead he stopped himself, not wanting to get too attached to you. “So, bad break up huh?” Chris asked, trying to change the topic.
You shrugged, tossing the hood of the jacket over your head. “Yeah I guess you could say that,” You replied. Chris leaned back against the couch, raising an eyebrow. “So, you wanna tell me what happened or do you wanna talk about something else?” Chris asked. He could practically see the debate forming in your head. He could only imagine how you were feeling, sadness mixed in with a newly found high. Shit, he was a bad influence on you. “I’d rather talk about something else. I’m trying to forget about him more than anything,” You say. Your eyes met his, the whites of your eyes glazed over with a familiar reddish pink.
“Or we could, you know, do something else,” You say shyly. Chris felt his heart skip a beat, that familiar electrical feeling ensuing again. This weed wasn’t laced right? He had been in much more lewd situations. Chris had been around the block more than once. Your suggestive words were making him feel like a preteen. “Nuh uh. Nope. I don’t take virginities kid,” Chris declined. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, not by any means. But you were too precious, too pure for him to ruin. To bring into his world of chaos. “Who said I was asking you to?” You questioned. Chris sighed, his eyes flickering down to your thighs.
“Probably the way you’ve been rubbing your thighs together for the past five minutes,” He replied. There was a pregnant pause of silence, Chris’s mouth suddenly running dry. Why did you make him feel this way? “Well maybe we could, I don’t know, fool around instead,” You suggested. Chris raised his eyebrows. “Fool around?” He questioned. He knew exactly what you meant, but he relished in the sight of your face turning pink. “You know what I mean,” You reply shyly. Chris shook his head, noticing the party was dying down. The music was being turned down, the sound of chatter decreasing.
“I don’t think I do. What are you talking about kid?” He asked you. Your face turned a deeper shade of red, the sight enough to make Chris’s cock throb. “Like uh. Fingering and head and stuff,” You answer awkwardly. Chris licked his bottom lip. Damn, Matt has to be stupid if he hasn’t noticed how adorable you are. Chris chuckled. “And head and stuff?” He laughed. You playfully shoved his arm. “Dont make fun of me i’m in college and haven’t done anything beyond making out,” You admitted. You had unintentionally brought yourself closer to him, your bodies only an inch apart.
The tension in the room was increasing quickly, Chris’s eyes flickering over to yours. “And you wanna change that? With a guy you just met?” Chris asked, skeptical. He tilted his head to the side, grabbing a blunt off of the table. “Never would’ve taken you for a horny little thing once you smoke a bit,” Chris teased. You rolled your eyes. “I technically have just met you but i’ve known about you forever,” You replied defensively. Chris ignited the blunt, watching the orange grow as he inhaled. “Cmere, wanna try something with you,” Chris murmured. He couldn’t give in, he wouldn’t give in.
He wouldn’t corrupt you. Not yet. You were too innocent. Too pretty. “Put this to your lips and inhale. Just stay very still for me,” Chris hummed. He guided the blunt to your lips, your doe eyes meeting his. He placed his lips over the other end, both of you inhaling at the same time. Chris couldn’t help but hold your gaze, admiring you. He had shotgunned a blunt with endless people, yet it felt so different with you. So intimate. His lungs demanded for him to pull away, so he did. He exhaled and watched you do the same, coughing as you smiled at him. “That was so hot, holy shit,” You laughed, tears flooding your waterline.
Chris leaned forward, wiping away a salty tear that was beginning to form. The pad of his thumb was gentle across your skin, your cheeks flushing red again. You were so easy to get riled up, so flustered. You leaned forward, placing the blunt on a rolling tray. Your lips were an inch from Chris’s your body yearning for his. “I meant it kid. I won’t fuck you,” Chris huffed, his hand not straying from your cheek. You swallowed, a boys set of lips never looking more appealing. “You don’t have to, just kiss me,” You said. Your eyes flickered to his briefly, before looking back down at his lips. You then added, “Please.”
Chris didn’t consider himself a weak man, but you made him one, He pressed his lips to yours, soaking in the faint taste of mint and weed. You met his lips eagerly, his tongue brushing against your bottom lip. He couldn’t help but want to deepen it, but feel you more. You allowed him in, grinning as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. He was intoxicating, the room suddenly feeling a million degrees. Chris’s hands fell to your waist, your arms wrapping themselves around his neck.
He pulled you onto his lap, your thighs straddling him. “You a good kisser for a virgin,” Chris teased, before grabbing the back of your neck to guide your lips back to his. You giggled as you shoved his chest, lowering your hips against his. The rest of the party seemed to disappear, the only thing existing in this life being you. You giggled as you hovered above him, your gorgeous thighs straddling him. Chris bucked his hips upwards, relishing in the sound of a soft groan escaping your lips. “Thought you weren’t gonna fuck me,” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.
Did you have any idea how addicting you were? “I’m not and I won’t, doesn’t mean I won’t tease you though,” Chris replied, kissing down the side of your face to your neck. His hands slithered back down to your waist, teasingly gripping the flesh. You felt like your body was on fire, Chris the only remedy for what you needed. “Chris,” You whimpered, his lips attaching themselves to your sweet spot. He would make sure not to leave a hickey that was too dark. He briefly pulled away, hovering over the purple skin. “Hmm? Need something?” He hummed. You grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking him back to look at you.
Your assertiveness caused by desperation made his cock throb. “Please touch me. I’ll repay you. Just, please,” You begged. You were so pretty, begging above him like this. You grinded your waist down onto his hard cock, biting your lower lip. Chris flipped you both around, your back hitting the back of the couch as he kneeled before you. “You’re that desperate huh? Want me to make you feel good?” Chris asked. You were practically trembling, his lips peppering kisses on your thighs. “Are you sure about this kid? You’re shaking and I haven’t even touched you yet,” Chris questioned, his voice laced with concern.
“I’m sure, please,” You whimpered. Chris slowly pulled up your skirt, placing teasingly slow kisses on the inside of your thighs. He hovered over your clothed cunt, pressing a kiss onto your panties. He could feel how soaked you were for him. The feeling alone made his cock throb in his jeans. Fucking hell.
“Yo Chris! You up here?”
The sound of Matt’s voice made your eyes go wide, Chris quick to react. He quickly pulled himself onto the couch, pulling down your skirt. He zipped up his jacket, covering your skimpy outfit and flusteredness. Two sets of footsteps were approaching quickly, whom he could only assume to be Matt and Nick. He tried to act nonchalant, leaning forward to cover his obvious and aching boner. By the time they reached the top of the stairs you thought your heart was going to fail.
“Oh hey I see you found Chris, looks just like us doesn’t he?” Matt asked, smiling as he plopped down on the couch beside you. He threw his arm around your shoulders, your eyes flickering to Chris’s. You were a flustered mess and he hadn’t even had a chance to taste you. “Oh for fuck sake Christopher don’t tell us you sold to her,” Nick huffed. He frowned disapprovingly as Chris began to pack up, shoving his products in his backpack. “I’d never sell to her, I have morals contrary to popular belief,” Chris argued, rolling his eyes. He noticed Matt’s arm around you, but he tried his hardest to pretend he didn’t.
“I better get going, got a meeting early tomorrow,” Chris huffed. Truthfully he didn’t feel like playing pretend around his brothers nor did he feel like hiding his aching boner. He shrugged his backpack over his shoulders, heading downstairs without so much as giving you a second glance. He didn’t want to, but he also didn’t want his brothers to embarrass him in front of you. He reached his ride outside, starting to slide into the backseat.
It wasn’t until he felt a hand grab his backpack that he turned around. He tried his hardest to hide his smile filled with relief. You followed him. “Do you um want your jacket back?” You asked shyly. Chris gave you a warm smile. “Nah kid, consider it yours,” He said. He stood in front of you, his friends yapping away in the front seats to each other. “Chris about what just happened in there I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-” You began rambling. Chris pulled the hood of the jacket off of your head, brushing some stray hairs behind your ears.
“You’ve got it all wrong kid. The very last thing you did was make me uncomfortable. I wanna see you again, away from my dumbass brothers,” Chris told you, cutting off the sound of your sweet voice. He allowed himself to lean forward, his lips dying to meet yours. “Let me pick you up tomorrow. Take you on an actual date. Wine and dine you,” Chris said. You found yourself leaning closer to him, the urge to press your lips against his. “I’d like that,” You replied softly.
“I’ll slide through tomorrow, round five. I got some shit to take care of before I come by,” Chris said. Behind you he could see Matt and Nick waving goodbye to some friends, about to walk onto the front porch. Chris pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, dipping into the car before his brothers could see him. He rolled down his window, holding up his pinky.
“I promise i’ll slide through tomorrow.”
You had a decision to make, whether or not to trust a drug dealer you had just met. You smiled as you wrapped your pinky around his, giving him your trust.
“Good, i’ll be waiting.”
a/n: this is my first time dropping a fic without smut lmaooo. didn’t feel right w chris being all mysterious drug dealer core 🕵🏻♀️.
#chris sturniolo x y/n#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#christopher sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo smut#sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo#matthew sturniolo
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Genius (2) - Restless
Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader
Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.
Story masterlist / Previous part / Next part
Word count: 3.2k
-What time is it now where you are? We follow beats with different drums. We're looking at the same star-
Once upon a time you were precious to Cairo, her best friend, someone she played with, someone she read with, someone she read to, someone she could trust. She didn’t exactly meet you, you’ve been a part of her life way before she understood anything about the world around her. You came into her life as the daughter of her parents’ friends slash colleagues. A way for her parents to show their dominance, she supposed. Your parents weren’t as wealthy, as successful, or influential as her parents, and looking at it now, there may have been some envy and or superiority complex from one pair of parents to another.
It didn’t influence the two of you, you were just kids who happened to spend time together and have fun. She was a lonely child, as not a lot of kids wanted to even get close to Lovell Hill, but seeing as your parents kept bringing you along you didn’t have much of a choice in the matter at first.
Everything was much simpler before the two of you started going to school…
~X~
Clumsy.
That was the word she would have used to describe you back then.
“I don’t like it here, Cai,” you were smaller than her back then and you were frightened of the forest surrounding her house, even if you were close to the road. Insects freaked you out, you jumped at the smallest sounds, you were so easy to scare, but Cairo really wanted to show you something nice in the forest, to show you it wasn’t all bad.
She’s been holding your hand, pulling you along through the dark forest, unlike you she wasn’t afraid or freaked out by the forest. It was a part of her world, unapproachable, haunting, yet beautiful at the same time. Of course, back then she just took it for granted, it was around her house so of course she didn’t mind it.
“Cai, come on, let’s go back,” you tried again, but you still went along with her whims.
“C’mon, it’s close!” she was excited to take you to the bush of wild roses she came across a few days ago.
You groaned, but didn’t put up a fight and then, just as she was supposed to see the bush, she dropped your hand, and you stumbled right into her. But she didn’t get annoyed, she was too confused, too distraught by the sight of an old tree that fell over the bush.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, yet she still didn’t respond. “Cai? Cairo?” you probably followed her line of sight, as you let out a small ‘oh’ a few seconds later.
She wasn’t that smart back then, she didn’t funny understand what she was feeling, but looking back at that moment now she figured that was the first time she began understanding the nature of her home. A beautiful flower growing despite harsh environmental conditions, only to be crushed by an old decaying good for nothing tree way past its prime. The forest around her house, the whole village, functioned the same way. And though she longed to be free, to spread her wings, to bloom outside of the restraints placed upon her by her surrounding, she couldn’t. She too, much like the rose bush she failed to show you, didn’t know how to escape the earth she was stuck in.
‘I’ll do it before I start high school,’ she thought, but didn’t know where to start, and she didn’t have anyone to do it with.
‘I’ll do it during high school,’ she thought, but she never had the courage to even get on a bus to the nearby town.
‘I’ll do it after I graduate,’ was her newest mantra, but deep down she feared what was to come.
She’s been told repeatedly that she was exceptional.
It was easy to be exceptional when everyone around her seemed content with their lives here. Never striving to stand out.
But, she didn’t understand that as a six years old girl standing in the middle of the forest with you by her side. But she did feel like something was breaking her heart.
“Hey,” you took her hand ad for once you were pulling her away from the crushed rose bush, as if understanding somehow that she didn’t want to stay there, even if she didn’t move on her own. Your hand was warm, though not nearly as warm as the tears falling down her cheeks, and she often wondered what you felt at that moment? What did you see when you looked from the roses on the ground to her? Did it change you in any way? Or was it just another day or you? Something you forgot within days, or even hours.
She never really asked you, but the sight stayed burnt in her mind and she still hated how well she could visualize it if she only thought back to it.
~X~
You stopped complaining about the forest after that, you still didn’t like it, but, she didn’t have to drag you along anymore.
“Get it off me!” you cried, but still ran away from her. You were panicking about a spider that fell on your shoulder.
“So, stop running!” Cairo laughed, running after you to ‘save’ you from the evil monster that attacked you. It wasn’t even a big spider, it was tiny!
“Fine, but hurry up,” you whined, finally stopping and letting Cairo catch up to you.
Cairo looked you over, but didn’t see the spider. “It’s not here? Maybe it fell off?” she guessed. Well, with how you were running it wouldn’t be a surprise.
“Really?” you asked as she sat down on the grass.
“Yeah, come on and sit down,” she needed to catch her breath or a bit.
You just shook your head. “No. Bugs!” you pointed an accusing finger at the ground and as usual refused Cairo’s offer to sit with her.
Why did she even bother to ask you? She knew you’d say ‘no’. “Oh,” her eyes widened slightly when she saw the spider crawling back up to your shoulder. “Guess it didn’t fall off after all,” she chuckled uneasily.
“What?” you shrieked and looked to the side. “Cairo you meanie!”
Cairo just laughed as she finally got up and removed the small spider from your shoulder.
She was still six, and there, in the dark, spooky forest where a rose bush could never thrive, things were still simple.
~X~
At nine years old she was spending time at your house every now and then. And on one stormy day, when the two of you had no idea what to do, since you couldn’t go outside and the power was out, she just passed time by looking over the books your parents owned.
Finally, her eyes landed on Jules Verne’s “Around the World in Eighty Days,” and she reached up for it. The world. How she yearned to explore it, to see something beside the village she lived in, to see the huge cities, to go to the biggest amusement parks, to visit the best bookstores, to experience things she couldn’t in this village.
So, yearning for the experience the book title promised, she brought it over to you and sat down. “Wanna read?” she offered, her big eyes pleading or you to say yes.
You looked a bit uncertain, but eventually you just nodded and lit a candle so the two of you could read.
Cairo hugged you briefly and pulled you to the floor so you could lie down and read together. She was mesmerized, amazed by the idea, eager to read more and mentally pleading for you to read faster, but, by the time she would finish two pages you’d just start reading the second page.
“Sorry, I’m not a fast reader,” you apologized when you noticed she was waiting to turn the page.
It wasn’t that you read slowly, you read about as fast as anyone could expect from an eight year old, it was Cairo that was reading faster than she was supposed to. “Would you- I don’t know, read it to me? I think that might be quicker?” you suggested.
Cairo thought it over and nodded happily. Maybe it wouldn’t be as fast as if she only had the book for herself, but she wouldn’t have to pause. So, you rolled onto your back and put your arms behind your head as she began reading from the very beginning.
And to show just how much both of you enjoyed the book you kept reading, even as the power came back on and the rain stopped. It didn’t matter, you were still stuck in your book.
“Everything, it said, was against the travelers, every obstacle imposed alike by man and by nature. A miraculous agreement of the times of departure and arrival, which was impossible, was absolutely necessary to his success,” Cairo read as your mother came in with glasses of juice and some snacks for the two of you.
“What are you two doing?” she asked, curiously looking at the open book in front of Cairo.
“We’re reading, ma’am,” Cairo said politely as your mother crouched down next to you.
“Reading? This one as well?” your mother nudged you gently and you grinned.
“Everything, it said, was against the travelers, every obstacle imposed alike by man and by nature. A miraculous agreement of the times of departure and arrival, which was impossible, was absolutely necessary to his success,” You repeated word for word the last line Cairo read, and she and your mother just looked at you. “What? I was listening,” your grin dropped and you pouted slightly.
That was the first time Cairo realized that while she could remember almost anything she saw you could memorize sounds just as well.
~X~
It was simple and nice for another two years, and then it began shifting slowly. For the first time in her life Cairo didn’t get an A, she didn’t even get a B, but rather a C, but it would be fine, right? She was still the best in her class, seeing as only her and you got Cs, and it was a difficult test, the teacher said so as well!
She came inside to find her parents looking over some papers. A new case probably. “Father, mother,” she said a bit too quietly for her own liking. “I got the results for my test. I did my best and studied as much as I could, and the teacher said it was a-“
“Get to the point, Cairo,” her father cut her off.
Cairo looked down, test in hand. Why did the furniture around her suddenly look so much bigger than her. It felt like everything was looming over her, and just for a moment she remembered the sight of that rose bush crushed under the fallen tree. “I got a C,” she told them timidly.
Her mother finally looked at her. “A C? Are you stupid? How could you get a C?” Cairo winced at that but hearing that wasn’t nearly as bad as looking at her mother and seeing just how disappointed she was.
“We’ve given you everything, Cairo, and you’re wasting it playing all day long!” her father raised his voice, angry, furious even and she just looked down. “You are grounded, go to your room and fix this disgrace!”
She nodded, not daring to meet his eyes and began climbing up the stairs.
“Wait, what did L/N’s girl get?” her father suddenly demanded.
“A-a C as well,” she said and all hell broke loose as she curled up on her bed and tried to ignore her parents yelling, she was a disappointment, a burden, wasting their time and efforts, an ungrateful brat that would rather waste time running through the woods than study.
Unknowingly to her, you were having a much different conversation with your parents.
~X~
“Y/N,” your mother began once you were done eating dinner.
“Hm?” you looked away from the paper you were doodling on and turned to her.
“Did you get your test results?” she asked, smiling when you nodded.
“Yup! I got a C!” you exclaimed proudly causing both of your parents to look at you to see if you were joking with them.
“A C?” your father repeated, and you just nodded with a large grin on your face. “And you’re happy?”
“Yeah, it was really hard, even Cai only got a C!” you ran over to your schoolbag to show them the test.
You mother chuckled softly. “Well, if even Cairo got a C,” she smiled as you handed her the test. “I’m proud of you as long as you did your best,” she kissed your cheek softly.
~X~
When tomorrow came and you sat down next to Cairo she wanted to say hi, she wanted to talk to you like she usually would, she wanted to go and read with you again, but she still remembered the anger on her father’s face, the disappointment on her mother’s face, her blurry vision as she cried in her room.
She yearned for the attention of her parents, to have them talk to her, to take her to different places, to take her along with them at least every now and then, yet being the best student in her class wasn’t enough, and the mistake she made wasn’t to be tolerated.
“Hey, wanna play hide and seek later?” you asked between classes.
“Sorry, I have to study,” she muttered.
“Oh, tomorrow then?” she wanted to, she really did, but she didn’t want to get yelled at again.
“I don’t have time,” Cairo told you, making her tone as cold as she could.
“Cai, what’s wrong?” you were too perceptive for your own good.
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, she didn’t mean to, she loved the nickname, it was the only nickname she ever had.
You paused, startled by her reaction. “Right, sorry,” you looked away.
“Just leave me alone, I’ll come to you if I feel like it,” she pushed you away, physically and stomped away, just so you couldn’t see the regret or tears in her eyes.
~X~ Present day ~X~
Cairo looked at you, her eyes wide in utter disbelief. You listened to her back then, you didn’t try to talk to her, you were waiting for her to come to you. Back then she wished she did that, she wished to do it every day. At the same time she wanted you to forget what she said, to approach her and get her to talk to you, to grab her hand and stop her from leaving. You never did that. So, a week passed, and she was still stubborn.
A month passed, and she was no longer stubborn, but she was worried you’d be angry that it took her so long.
Half a year passed, she turned twelve and spent her first birthday without you around, and that worry turned into spite. Out of spite she kept you at a distance, not even saying ‘hi’.
And then, shortly after that you moved with you parents and she wanted desperately to cry, but that would only make her parents angry at her again.
“Y/N,” she said uncertainly, despising how, even after so many years your name still fell so easily from her lips, how it still felt familiar on her tongue. You changed, grew up, grew taller than her, even if you were taller than her ever since the two of you were ten, now your height difference was noticeable even as you sat next to each other.
A cough broke her out of her thoughts. Right, the class just started. “I apologize,” she blushed a bit, thankful for the distraction. Thankful that she could listen to the author she admired, yet his words sounded so distant to her. You were right there, close enough to touch and Cairo felt hot and cold at the same time. She was happy, yet she couldn’t help but wonder how long ago you came back. Why didn’t you look for her? You said her name so softly, you didn’t make a scene, surely you weren’t angry at her, but why didn’t you try and visit?
It’s been years, surely you didn’t still intend to listen to her childish demand.
~X~
You could feel how tense she was throughout the whole class, glancing at you subtly from time to time and you wished to just reach over and place your hand on her shoulder. To ask her what was wrong. To not give up this time like you did all those years ago.
The bell rang but the two of you remained seated, neither truly willing to move, until finally, under Miller’s confused gaze, Cairo picked up her things and nodded at him to say goodbye.
“Cairo, wait,” you went after her and Winnie. “Let’s just grab a lunch, or old times sake?” you went straight to the point. This was Cairo, after all, she like subtlety, especially in books, but she also liked being direct when she wanted something. “I know a restaurant, I think you’ll like it,” you said when she looked at you.
“You had time to visit those, I see,” Cairo said, and you could have sworn she looked away almost bitterly.
“Cairo,” you tried, but she was already turning around to walk away. You felt as if something was squeezing your chest, a feeling of unease you couldn’t shake off, like letting her leave now, like this, would be a mistake you couldn’t come back from. And in that moment, you were reminded of you and her, years ago, as your friendship shattered. “I didn’t mean in the village,” you called after her, taking notice of the way Winnie froze and Cairo stiffened a bit.
“What?” she looked back, frowning as you closed the distance and offered her your hand.
“Let me take you out to a restaurant about an hour from here. Good food, peaceful, beautiful view, perfect for catching up. They even have live music,” you explained, just hoping she’d take your hand.
Winnie whistled at that. “Nice going new girl. Throw the girl a bone, Cairo,” she nudged Cairo a bit, but the girl remained silent, and you could almost imagine the gears turning in her head.
“Okay,” Cairo finally said, shaking your hand.
“Come on- wait, really?” Winnie looked genuinely surprised and just stared at your and Cairo’s connected hands.
“Thanks, Cairo,” you smiled softly.
“Is Saturday okay with you?” she asked, her expression softening as she took a small step closer to you. “Yeah,” the two of you just stood there, in the middle of the hall, in front of Miller’s classroom, as if captivated by one another to the point of forgetting the world around you.
Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund
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His home was smoking.
Scorch marks, nasty words carved into the ground and trees, a giant hole decimating a third of the cabin. Branch's heart dropped in his chest. And he let out a shriek.
"Oh no," Holly whispered.
Branch bolted inside. Or, at least, he almost did. Synth and Holly pulled him back just before he got to the still smoldering door. What was left of said door was embers that burst and fell over at the movement. "Let me go!"
"No, bro," Synth insisted.
"He could still be in there!"
"He isn't," Holly agreed. "The hard rock trolls have taken everyone they come across so far. They would have taken him too."
"How did they even know to find this place? It's so isolated! It's not like we go around telling people!" Branch flipped, tucked away from view from his brothers by his friends. He was glad they were around him.
"I don't know dude..." Synth mumbled, with a frown and downcast gaze.
Darnell walked over, a machete in hand and offered it to Branch. He recognized it. They all did. "It's kind of knicked. He didn't go quietly."
"That sounds like him," Holly mused. It was a compliment, of course, it just meant that he didn’t go down without a fight. However, that could have meant any number of things.
Branch took the machete by the handle and stared at it. The grip was old and worn, years of use and hand strength bore into it. John’s fingers had literally made indents in the handle. He didn’t often use it as a weapon; John preferred glitter bombs and close combat for that, so the fact he had probably used at it as a weapon was worrying. “If they made it here, they got to Lonesome Flatts too."
"Delta would never go quietly either," Holly said with a frown, her shoulders tense. She wanted to argue, try to deny and plead for hope - Branch knew it - but even she could see the reality. "But this level of destructive force..."
"She'd have no choice."
"Which means the only ones left would be Funk," Branch nodded, glancing at the sky. "Can Angular Beasts fly to the heights of Funkships?"
"I have no idea."
"If we follow the Melancholy River..."
"Vibe City would pass at the end," Darnell nodded, in agreement. They all knew Vibe City’s flying patterns but as their Prince, D would know best.
"We have a raft," Branch continued, gesturing through the woods where he knew down the hill would be a handmade creation that could get them down the river quick and easy. "Rhonda can't move quickly through the reeds."
"Branch," Spruce said quietly, coming up to them, almost pushing through. After a moment, the others let him as we as his other brothers. He glanced up at the smoldering cabin. "You... you lived here?"
"I still do," he replied, stubbornly but he didn’t want to explain that now. "We have to go." He gave no room for debate as they quickly made their way down towards the river. John loved lounging on the raft they had built, listening to the soft hum of the reeds. Sometimes he'd even bring his own tune, strumming at a guitar and the reeds following. Branch couldn't be sure, but he was pretty sure the Reeds liked him.
They started down the river.
"Look, Branch...I think we should talk," Bruce said, coming up to sit next to Branch. Clay and Floyd followed. "You... you lived in that isolated cabin alone and that is not..."
"I don't live alone."
"What?"
"I never said I lived alone."
They all sighed in relief; weird but okay. They were all younger than him when they left - alone. He didn’t really understand why it was so different from him. He was older than them when they left. Bruce was the one to say something, after they seemed to calm from the notion he wasn’t living alone. "Okay, great. Well, not great considering if these Rock Trolls are taking people that means Gramma is in danger…” Bruce started, with a concerned frown but Branch interrupted.
"Gramma?" Branch asked, truly confused. "What does she have to do with anything?" And he honestly had no idea. Wow… he hadn’t thought about Gramma in a long time. Clay had said there was an escape. He hoped that Gramma got out then. But he wasn’t sure why they were bringing her up.
"Isn't that... who you lived with?"
Branch made a face. “No."
"No?"
"I haven't seen Gramma since I was a baby,” he pointed out, kicking from on the edge of the raft. Behind him, out of the corner of his eye, he could see a few of his friends shifting slightly, ready for anything. Synth was swimming underneath.
"A.... baby?" Floyd squeaked.
"Branch... if you haven't seen Gramma since you were a baby, who..." Bruce questioned, anxiously. He looked so worried.
"Who took care of you?" Clay demanded, finishing the question. He was staring, wide eyed.
Branch continued to look confused. It seemed to be a reoccurring theme, which he did not like. He wasn’t used to being confused in general. He was the smart one, the one with the plan. But then again, his brothers were a confusing lot. "The same person that took care of all of you."
They still looked confused. Honestly what? “What..."
"JD.”
He sounded stupid just saying it. Who else in the world could he be talking about? If he wasn’t talking about Gramma then there was only one other person that he could be talking about.
There was a brief pause.
"What?"
"Branch..."
"What?"
"He left. The same time as us,” Spruce said, trying to be gentle. As if Branch didn’t already know that.
"Yeah? And?"
"I don't think the few months beforehand can count as raising you,” Spruce continued, slowly, carefully. Branch blinked, staring for a moment as he tried to wrap his head around what they were trying to insinuate.
"Try the last sixteen years," he scoffed and his lip curled. Right, they left right after John did the first time. They had no idea he came back a few months later. And then a few months after that, John took him out into the wild with him.
"Huh?"
"JD has been raising me for the last sixteen years," Branch replied, repeating himself with the roll of his eyes. He wasn’t entirely sure what was so hard to understand. He was speaking clearly.
"Explain."
"Uh... so JD came back to the Tree. After my first Trollstice, we left. Me and hum. Eventually, we found the other tribes and a nice spot and built a cabin,” he kept it short and sweet. They didn’t need to know any of the details and honestly, he didn’t care for telling them. Branch had been upset, at first, realizing they were never going to go back to the tree. But as time went on, when he made friends and became more content with his new life, John had told him about what Gramma wanted. And he told Branch that the others weren’t coming back.
He was right.
"You... live with John Dory."
"Yes?"
They almost looked confused still. Branch really didn’t understand what was so hard to wrap their heads around.
"Have been for 16 years?"
"Yes! What's the big deal?” Branch’s voice began to raise in some irritation. “I lived with him and now he's captured by the Rock Trolls with all the other tribes, why are you guys looking at me like I'm the one who has two heads?"
"He... he raised you in a very isolated environment. Branch, that's not... that's not healthy,” Bruce continued, trying to be tactful and gentle. Branch knew he was a dad and he could see it but Bruce trying to… father him or whatever, felt weird. Wrong almost. Branch didn’t have a father. He didn’t really know what that was supposed to feel like like. But what Spruce was saying and what he was insinuating was rubbing Branch the wrong way. He knew it.
“Are you… are you serious?”
“Isolation is-.”
“You can’t be serious! I love my life! I have more friends and support than I ever have had, I get to know all sorts of new things, I get to learn not only a ton of stuff and read a lot, I get to learn about the other cultures and genres. I get to read their books. I’m far more adjusted and knowledgeable than most!”
Branch’s frustration was growing and he knew his friends could tell. They were all pretty in tune with each other, with how much time they spent together.
“But he-,” Bruce continued, trying to put a hand on him. Branch shoved him away, almost violently. He could see Holly tense but Branch cast her a glance. He turned back to his brothers - particularly Bruce.
“No. You have your own life now and we have ours! You don’t get to go after him with your grudge just because he chose differently from you and now you suddenly feel guilty about it.”
#feel I belong au#I’m still here au au#branch is NOT having it#these are just the scenes and dialogue that are in my head rn#sorry it’s just the way it is rn lol#okay it’s late gnight
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Hi again! Kinda a bummer science most of the Ask I wanted to make was for multiple characters and im not really into polyamory, but that ok! I'll just have to wait a bit. In that case I would want to make a request for Kenny. Meybe headcanons/oneshot of him confesing or flirting with fem!reader but she reject him or just things he isn't serious? Its not like she dosnt like him, she does, but because od her past relationship shes scered she might be hurt again, and his reputation of absolute horndog dosn't help :((.....
Also plz make it have a happy ending? Thank you♥️
Absolutely love you'r writing btw, you'r doing amazing!
Sorry for possible grammer or spelling errors, English is not my first lenguage.
Ofc!! And also it’s okay about the grammar part! I totally understand that English isn’t your first language no worries at all 💗 I hope you enjoy this one shot!!
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Kenny confessing to reader but rejects him out of scaredness oneshot
✧༺🎀༻✧
“you’re..you’re joking right?” I stared at the blonde boy who was leaning against the tree. I got a note in my locker saying to meet someone behind the school by the tree on top of the hill. I didn’t expect to see Kenny McCormick here of all people.
He told me he has a crush on me and has been since 6th grade, we’re in 12th grade now. “Why would I be joking, gorgeous?” I felt a little rage in me as I go to walk away. I heard kenny shout a small “hey” before reaching to me. “What’s wrong gorgeous? I thought you would be happy that I would have a crush on you?”
“I’m not buying it McCormick! You’re just playing a sick joke on me so you can get a laugh with your friends!”
“But im not joking!”
“Stop lying to me!”
I felt tears come out my eyes as I go to walk away more. I felt my heart beat fast as my inner 6th grade self was wondering why I didn’t accept his confession since I did have a crush on him but knew he liked to play with girls feelings.
Kenny was always known to be a playboy and be flirty with any girl he lays his eyes on. He flirts with them one day and gets with them, the next a girl is crying because kenny left her. I didn’t want to risk that no matter how long I’ve liked him.
✧༺🎀༻✧
I stared in disbelief seeing the girl I’ve liked for a long time just walk away from me. Like I was playing a sick joke on her. I mean can I really blame her? I get with girls almost every night. I get why she would think I’ll just use her for sex.
I bit my lip before walking away from the tree and instantly went to the convenience store. I bought a bouquet of roses for Y/N. I need to tell her that this isn’t some joke but to show I actually want to stop with my play boy ways and settle down for a sweet girl like her.
The next day arrived. I thanked the world today was Saturday as I grabbed the roses I bought and instantly went to Y/N’s home. I saw her leaving her home to go take trash out. I quickly walked over to her. As I spoke loud enough for her to hear.
“Hey, Y/N..”
“What do you want McCormick?”
“I bought these roses for you to show im serious about liking you”
Y/N took the roses as she sighed and nodded at me.
“Thanks..I guess..”
“They reminded me of you, so that’s why I got them”
Y/N just nodded once again before walking back in her home and slammed the door shut. I saw through the window she just tossed the flowers on the counter.
“Fuck man”
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I stan in front of the school with more flowers. This whole entire week I’ve been giving flowers and small gifts for Y/N. Thankfully she’s been accepting them, I haven’t seen anything in the trash besides empty chocolate boxes that I’ve been giving her.
I notice y/n walking to the gate which I instantly go up to her.
“Y/N!”
“Hi kenny” y/n said with a slight smile but then washed away as she frowned again.
“I bought you more stuff, here”
“Kenny..again?”
“Of course again! I want you to be my girlfriend, I want to settle down and stop my way—“
“Kenny just stop..! I’m not going to be your girlfriend!”
“Why?!”
“Because im scared!”
I stared in shock as she yelled that me. Y/N didn’t look at me as she held the flowers I got her close to her.
“I’m scared you’re going to treat me that same as all my past boyfriends have..im scared you’re going to be like them and use me..use me for my body..use me for my money or just ghost me after I satisfy you..and with your reputation being as it is I can’t let it happen again..”
I stared at her. Is that really why she doesn’t want to be with me? I walk up to her and I hug her close to me. I felt her hug me back instantly as I felt tears on my shoulder. I started to soothe her more and more as she cried.
“babe, I would never do that to you, im being serious when I say i like you, i would never do those things to harm you, ive liked for so long everything you do makes me so happy..”
She looked at me as she wiped her tears.
“Really?”
“Really..”
I soon leaned in to kiss her which she kisses back as she held my face close to hers. I pulled away as I see her giggle and kiss me again. I hold her close to me as I pick her up bridal style.
“Wanna skip school? I know a good place with hella good food”
#south park fanfiction#south park#south park x reader#south park x y/n#➥ kenny mccormick's gf ♡#kenny mccormick fluff#kenny mccormick x reader#kenny x reader#kenny mccormick#sp kenny#south park kenny
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Magenta team really pissin me off w the constant “it’s Fiores fault we lost every challenge last season >:(“
When that literally isnt even true
#disventure camp#Fiore WON the first challenge w the fake flag#Will was the one that didn’t want to go down the hill#NICK was the one that didn’t row the boat fast enough and also fucked up the second challenge#Fiore faced her fear in the fear challenge#the only challenge I can think of where she fucked it up for them was the cooking challenge#and that was just as much Alecs fault as it was Fiores#waaah Fiore you lost us the challenge#y’all where the idiots that wasted time trying to get the wolf across the line and ended up fucking it up#AND HUNTER CPULDNT EVEN GET A FUCKING BIRD ACROSS THE LINE BUT YELLS AT FIORE FOR GETTING HIT BY THE GOAT#magenta team just needs a scapegoat for their incompetence fr
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"creature of myth."
pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader
summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right?
content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO).
a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.
credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter.
wc: 11.6k (sowwy)
You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off.
You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all.
You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it.
Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married.
Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags.
You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding.
The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times.
The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying.
When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance.
Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold.
You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income.
The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me?
Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of.
“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.”
You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before.
You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.”
Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”
You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you.
“Yes, my lady?”
You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?
You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?”
There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”
Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps.
You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you?
You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness.
You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing.
You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home.
You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come.
You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly.
You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning.
You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags.
You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle.
You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and-
“Do you like them?”
You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie.
Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him.
He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained?
“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.”
Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.”
There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips.
“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.”
You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling.
“Of course… Satoru.”
He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet.
“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies.
“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.”
There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever…
“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.”
You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?
“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming?
He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.”
You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?
Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue.
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.
Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?”
His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks.
“Not tonight.”
His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch.
His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence.
“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone.
You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened.
~
You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed?
That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense.
When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person.
“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all.
You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”
A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking.
“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?”
You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver.
You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.”
That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.”
There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.
~
If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains.
Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in.
The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you.
You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again.
He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse.
“It was… good.”
You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas.
You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume.
That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.”
A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.
Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”
You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.”
You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.
It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.
“You’re not… eating?”
That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.”
Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?”
You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.”
The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room.
By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough.
“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue.
“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.”
You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.”
He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?”
You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”
His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?”
You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.”
He chuckles. “My pleasure.”
When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight?
He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you?
You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse.
“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone.
~
You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon.
Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare.
As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.
~
The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge.
The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.
~
You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he?
You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.
Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you.
Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right?
You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there.
It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”.
You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye.
“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.”
You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further.
“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.
A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages.
“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.”
Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph.
“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”
You skip ahead again.
“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”
Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe?
“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.”
No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second.
“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.”
You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening.
“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.”
No, no, no.
“(See next page for only existing portrait)”
Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible.
You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru.
You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows.
“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense.
You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting.
Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine.
“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?”
His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.”
No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you.
“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further.
“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…”
You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”
You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?
“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you.
You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does.
“About the estate?” he asks.
You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”
His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?”
You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”
“Anything interesting?” he presses.
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.”
He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”
You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.
“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.”
You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.
His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.
“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-”
“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why.
You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him.
He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…”
You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.
He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch.
Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine?
“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?”
He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real.
“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point.
“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.
“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in.
You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.
He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.”
Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him.
“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.
“Mhm?”
You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.”
He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.”
He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight.
“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago.
“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?”
The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.
His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?”
You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be.
He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?”
Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe.
You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.”
You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?”
You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone.
“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin.
“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt.
He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.”
His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has.
You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less.
“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning.
His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long.
“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s
thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked.
Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity-
“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.
Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re–
“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature.
His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.”
You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper.
His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”
You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust.
His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb.
“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.”
You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further.
He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?”
Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer.
Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?”
Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”
You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch.
There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.”
By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod.
His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth–
You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing?
Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire.
“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.”
Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is.
When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?
“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move.
Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop.
You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake.
“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.”
“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision.
Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer.
There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done.
Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation.
“S-Satoru–”
“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.”
You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp.
You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…
He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”
It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts.
“Satoru, p-please! It’s–”
Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.
“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin.
“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants.
He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do.
“Yes,” you whisper.
His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath.
He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments.
“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…”
He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come.
Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull.
His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens.
When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like.
His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants.
He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”
You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago.
He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave.
“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.
taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000
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#gojo#gojo smut#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#satoru#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader smut#vampire gojo#vampire#tw: loss of virginity#tw: yandere#jujustu kaisen#gojo x you#bree's fics!
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Coriolanus Snow | “What about you?” “She's the star.” “Luckily I Like Roses.”
*•.¸♡Request: omg can you write a coryo x reader, i don’t mind what, just pls don’t make him go batshit crazy at the end😩😩
*•.¸♡Prompts: none
*•.¸♡Warnings: Coriolanus, I completely forgot the other Covey peoples names :I, reader is shorter than Snow, Cori isn't insane (ish), Snow is slight ooc, and yes he's a terrible person but you’re here too
*•.¸♡Paring: Coriolauns Snow x F!reader
*•.¸♡Summary: On Coriolanus’s trip down to the lake with the star Lucy Gray, he found the most beautiful rose ever seen
Or
Coriolanus pervs on you while swimming (romantic)
*•.¸♡Words: 1.1k
Part 2
Growing up in the Covey had been a stroke of luck, simple as it gets, when Lucy Gray Baird and her family had been forced into District 12 Seeing the talent you had with a guitar one night as you played to the darkness, they took you to their next show where you played alongside Lucy Gray. She was still the star, she had the smile, the voice, the charisma. You could sing when you needed to, and you played the guitar just as well, but she always took the spotlight. And when she strolled into town after winning the Hunger Games, that star power only grew. She was the star, until one sunny morning.
Mockingjay's sang into the wind, the warm sun beating against your skin and the gentle breeze made your sundress flow in the wind. Meeting Lucy and the others on the walk to the lake you came face to face with Coriolanus Snow. Buzzed blonde hair, sharp jawline and the bluest eyes you had ever seen. His smile was bright, and his laugh was as sweet as Lucy’s singing. And it should be, he was laughing at her jokes. Smiling at her. Before he could catch you staring your eyes had shifted quickly, focussing on Lucy as you walked to her side.
She beamed as she saw you, wrapping her arms tightly around you.
“Coriolanus, I want you to meet only the bestest person in the world,” Lucy went on, kissing you quickly on the cheek.
The same smile returned as he turned to shake your hand, his skin soft on your calloused palms. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” He spoke your name softly, the syllables dripping from his tongue like honey. Your hand slipped from his, the tips of his fingers running along your palm.
Lucy quickly ushered you and the rest of the group on, starting the long hike down the green hills. Lucy walked ahead with Aurora, talking wistfully into the wind. You walked in silence, one hand gripping the strap of your satchel as you watched the critters race up the branches of the trees.
“Lucy said you played the guitar,” Coriolanus spoke up, swatting away another mosquito. He walked beside you, his tall figure blocking the sun from your face. He looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Why didn’t I see you performing last night?”
You simply shrugged. The answer was the crowds didn’t cheer for you, Lucy was the star, and she could play for hours without backup. But it sounded sad. You looked over the trees, the Mockingjay's flying higher into the trees. “Nothing special, you probably just missed me when I left.”
Coriolanus shook his head softly, “I feel like I’d remember you.” You couldn’t place what Coriolanus meant, your eyebrows furrowing as you thought over his words. You didn't say anything more after that, keeping your eyes ahead on the track leading to the lake.
As soon as the dock was close enough Aurora and Tip had stripped their clothes off and thrown themselves in the water. You tossed your bag down, the hot sun that had beat against your skin had made you more than happy to rush into the water. Tossing your sundress aside with your satchel you ran down the dock and dove under the crystal blue water. The cool lake chilled your skin enough to relieve the sun but not enough to raise goosebumps.
You swam up to the surface, pushed the hair back for your face and fixed the straps of your handmade bra that slid down your shoulder. Lucy jumped in after you, and with a yell, Coriolanus jumped in, the splash of water hitting your face. You laughed, using your arms to keep you afloat. Coriolanus muttered an apology through a smile, but you barely noticed as your eyes fell over his light skin, his collar bones and muscular shoulders.
The lake was sweet, a nice relief from the constant smell of coal and sweat, the rowdy crowds and the smell of liquor on everyone's breath. Some time later Lucy had swam to shore, helping Aaroa and Tip fish and dig up Katniss' roots.
You floated on your back, the gentle waves lapping at your skin as the sun warmed your face. Coriolanus sat on the edge of the dock, toying with his fingers as he watched you. The wind blew the waves softly, the sun reflecting on your skin like liquid gold. He pushed himself off the dock, slipping below the cold water once again. “Can I hear you sing?” His voice made you turn your head to look at him.
“I don’t sing,” You muttered, turning your head to face the sun again.
“Lucy said you sing.”
You turned to swim properly, treading water. “If you wanna hear someone sing you should ask Lucy,” You insisted. You pushed yourself closer, slipping your fingers under the slim metal chain of his dog tags, untangling the knot. You moved it to hang properly from his neck, your nails dragging ever so slightly across his soft skin.
His icy blue eye moved from your hand on his skin and looked up at your face, droplets of water falling from your hair, and slipping down your skin and when they hit your lips, you swiped them away with your tongue. “I wanna hear you sing.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours as you lifted her gaze from the metal chain.
You chuckled softly and he swore it sounded like the sweetest melody, a honeydew sound that he couldn't help but smile at. “You’re funny Coriolanus Snow,” you said softly. “Turning down the winner of the Hunger Games. A true victor.”
Coriolanus wiped a hand down his face, wiping away the water running over his eyes. “What about you?” He asked.
You shook your head softly. “She’s the star, the songbird,” You insisted, unsure you were convincing him or yourself. His smile made your stomach flip, his gaze made your cheeks burn, but his words… his honey words.
His hand slowly reached out, his fingers slipping beneath the strap of your bra and sliding it back up your shoulder. His hand lingered there for a moment before falling back into the water. “Luckily I like roses.”
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#m0chaminx#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow#the hunger games#hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#ballad of songbirds and snakes#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow smut
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Teen Dad
Quite surprised there’s not a lot of these AUs considering how much Steve apparently sleeps around but anywho.
Teen Dad Steve who finds out one of the girls he’d slept with pre-Nancy is pregnant and he damn well intends on helping out however he can.
Turns out; helping means taking his son (his SON) and having full custody because the mom, no matter how much she wants to be involved, can’t take care of him.
Steve’s alright for the first 6 months of little Louie Harrington’s life.
But then his parents come home and shit hits the fan.
Which— fair enough. He was only 17 and already had a whole ass son, they were gonna freak out.
But kicking him AND aforementioned son out? With no where to go? No money? Barely a job?
That’s just fucked up.
But Steve makes do, and lives out of his car for no more than a month before finally landing his hands on a cheap trailer in Forest Hills.
He and Louie move in and sure, it’s rough. But he’s got a nice paying job at the Diner and yeah maybe he has to skip some classes to get extra money but it’s fine. It pays his bills and rent and that’s all that really matters.
It’s fine.
And then the second wave of Upside Down fuckery hits, and Steve’s suddenly in the hospital with a grade 4 concussion (whatever that means) and his top priority is to make sure someone is with Louie.
Enter Claudia Henderson, Dustin’s mom.
She takes care of Louie for as long as Steve is in the hospital and then some when Steve can’t be left unsupervised in case his head worsens.
And that’s how the Party is introduced to little Louie (as they all call him).
Steve’s stunned to find out that Mike and Lucas are so good with little kids, but the two of them love stopping by the Henderson’s (and later on the trailer) to see little Louie and offer to babysit for him whenever.
The other kids take a little bit of time to warm up to Louie (and the fact that Steve’s actually a parent) but when they do Steve never ceases to have at least one of them over.
And with all the racket brings in the attention of nosy neighbors.
Steve is well accustomed to nosy neighbors. Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln next door to his parents were always looking to snitch on him for something or other.
But Miss Bottomette and her grandchildren Noah and Casey were sweethearts. Steve didn’t mind having them over for dinner or going over there. Miss Bottomette was the one to teach him how to actually put his cooking skills to work.
Linda and Tom, a newly married couple down the road, were quite eccentric but that’s what made them charming. Steve found their dog, Dasher, quite the sweetheart.
And even Mr. Knowles, the grouchy old man next door to Miss Bottomette, seemed to take a liking to Steve and Louie.
It wasn’t long before the story behind the new boy in 2718 New Bird Ave was revealed: Teen Dad Kicked Out.
Then the whole town knew. And while most people were nice about it, even supportive of how he had taken a step into his child’s life, there were always those people who sneered.
Steve ignored them, loving the life he was working on making for himself and Louie in the trailer park.
The only neighbors he never seemed to meet, despite the looming presence, were the Munsons, right across the street.
Steve knew about the Munsons. Well— he knew about Eddie Munson; drug dealer who was on his second run of senior year. Steve actually shared a few classes with him.
He’d yet to meet the mysterious Wayne Munson, but that was to be expected with work schedules.
And then Steve was graduating, and his parents didn’t show up.
But that was totally fine. Cause the kids, Claudia, Joyce— even Hopper with El— were there. They held up little baby Louie while Steve walked the stage.
He’d heard rumors of Eddie Munson having to retake senior year for a third time— but he didn’t dwell on it for too long. Because sure, he missed more than his fair share of classes and scraped by with a C+ average.
But he did it.
And then summer hit, Dustin left for camp, and the mall opened up.
Steve picked up a job at Scoops Ahoy, cutting back on his hours at the Diner but still staying there because the money was needed and the tips were lovely.
And he meets Robin Buckley, and actually talks to Eddie Munson every once in a while when he stops in with his band, and lets the kids sneak into the movies because he’ll be damned if he robs them of a normal summer.
And then Dustin comes back and their reunion is short-lived because Russians are hellbent on torching non-existent information out of Steve and he’s busy getting his third concussion and then there’s a fucking flesh monster and Billy and Hopper for protecting them and—
It’s not a good night.
But then he’s rushed to the hospital and he tries to call Miss Bottomette only for the call to refuse to go through and shitfuckgoddammit.
Because what about Louie?
Miss Bottomette said she’d be alright watching Louie until Steve got home, but Steve wasn’t able to go home until someone was able to make time to take him home.
Usually, he’d lean on Hopper for this stuff, since his parents were out of the question. But—
But Hoppers dead.
So he’s stuck at the hospital for another day or two until finally, Claudia comes to pick him up.
He’s with Dustin in the backseat of the car, anxiously bouncing his leg and biting at his fingers and nails until Dustin gives in and just holds his hand. Robin’s there to, having been able to leave after the first night but coming with Claudia to pick him up. Steve’s relieved to have them both close by, even if his hands reach for Erica subconsciously.
His trailer’s empty when he gets home, and Miss Bottomette isn’t answering the door.
Steve’s on the brink of a full blown breakdown before Mr. Knowles— bless his heart— points them across the street.
The Munsons apparently have his son and have for a bit now since Miss Bottomette had a minor seizure and couldn’t be left alone with Louie. Mr. Knowles assured Steve that she and the kids were fine and staying with him for the moment.
Steve wasted no time afterwards sprinting to the Munsons and knocking on the door. Dustin and Robin are close behind him, Claudia waiting patiently in the driveway.
The door is answered by a gruff looking old man that’s taller than Dustin but slightly shorter than both Robin and Steve.
“You Harrington?”
Steve nods so fast he faintly wonders if that’s how bobble heads feels.
They’re let in in no time and the old man— the infamous Wayne Munson— calls out of Eddie.
Eddie Munson emerges a moment later with little Louie in his arms, bouncing softly on his feet to keep the baby calm.
Steve is in front of him in a second, scooping Louie gently out of his arms and into his own.
He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Dustin’s rubbing his arms and Robin his back. Claudia is talking to Wayne, explaining what had happened (or the cover story version at least) and Eddie is hanging back a few feet from the three of them.
Robin takes little Louie in her arms and shoos Steve to the couch to calm down.
“Let him meet his auntie, Steve. You take a minute to breathe now, yeah?”
Steve was led to the couch with a soft hand on his shoulder from Eddie Munson, and they sat side by side while Steve worked on easing his breathing and to stop fucking crying.
Eddie’s shushing him and after a moment (and a clearly pointed cleared throat from Robin) Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s shaking figure.
They leave the Munsons’ trailer is promises of new babysitters and a new friendship.
And then the fuckery that’s 1986 happens.
.
First Part:
#stranger things#steve harrington#dustin henderson#mike wheeler#eddie munson#robin buckley#will byers#lucas sinclair#max mayfield#el hopper#jim hopper#joyce byers#claudia henderson#steddie#teen dad steve harringon#I’m lazy with the tags today sorry guys
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Bat-Boys in Bed
I couldn’t find a good gif, sue me
Dick Grayson’s mouth is filthy. And he gets enough praise, so I think he’d be into praising you instead.” You’re so pretty, all fucked-out and dumb…just for me” as he pounds into you, panting in between words.
He’d also be into touchy sex positions, like missionary where he can hook his nose into your neck and wrap his arms around you. Dick would be into you giving him hickies.
I think Dick has an insane stamina—round after round. His hips would meet yours at a punishing pace as he muttered out praise,” this cunt is so warm and wet for me. My beautiful girl.” And he place wet kisses to your neck and cheeks.
Dick isn’t above moaning, but he’s not pornographic about it.i see him whimpering and begging if he’s getting a blow job or if you’re on top and teasing him, but I don’t see him moaning as much or more than you.
Jason Todd isn’t much of a talker during sex, but I do believe he moans. He’d be a lot more gentle with you than popular belief thinks. Especially if we’re talking older, mature Jason who’s passed his “fresh from the pit madness.”
I do believe Jason has a choking kink and I’ll die on this hill. And it doesn’t have to be his hand around your throat or vice versa. It can be him shoving his cock to the back of your throat and feeling you pulse and throb around him.
He enjoys, mature Jason too, seeing your eyes go wide and glassy. Jason loves to pull his cock from your mouth after you’ve had enough and seeing your lips plump and pink. He loves the slight flush of your tits.
Jason is a lot more eager to switch roles and be on the bottom than Dick. If you’re feeling top-ish and want to ride. Jason wouldn’t argue as you ground down on him, rolling your hips and leaving a trail of slick on his pelvis.
He’d beg through covered lips as you shushed him and picked up your pace, driving your hips forward and giving Jason the release he’d been craving.
I don’t know enough about Tim or Duke, sorry.
Bruce is harder to read because there’s decades of lore, canon, and stuff that’s not in the main continuity. Many writers have different versions of him that some favorite—however, here goes.
Bruce is a control freak. Whether you planned it or not, you’d end up in a dom/sub dynamic. He’d be choosing your clothes, picking which jewelry he buys, telling you when to cum before you even realize it.
I also think he has a power imbalance kink, just a little bit. Nothing extreme or megalomaniacal. So I truly believe you wouldn’t be rich (sorry lol); you’d maybe be a lesser known vigilante, and that’s if Bruce is healthily interested in you. I believe you’d be a civilian, but a smart and compassionate one. We know Bruce isn’t one to dumb himself down for company; we know Bruce is attracted to smart women, but none of his past relationships worked because they didn’t have a heart ( I love Talia, but he real; she wasn’t Mother Teresa).
This one may lose people, but I believe Bruce has a breeding kink. It would be a chance for him to restart. His only blood child is an arrogant, cold assassin and the rest of his children are masked vigilantes who dance with death nightly. But with you, his love, he could have a child not born in pain and anger. He’s older and wiser; he’s not as vengeful and mission oriented as he was when he adopted Dick and Jason; Tim sought him out, and Damian came with a chip on his shoulder.
Bruce is unyielding in his refusal to switch places. He’s too paranoid and enjoys control too much to bottom. The closest you’ll get to topping is bossing him around from the bottom.” faster, pretty boy.” You reached up and caressed his face as his pace stuttered and he spilled into you, gasping and groaning as he did.
You wouldn’t be fucked in the suit or the Batmobile. And he hates being called Batman in bed. The closest you’d get to mixing sex with his vigilante life is getting fucked in the Batcomputer seat.
Damian Wayne is the kinkiest Batfam member. I see Damian, who didn’t undergo such a beautiful arc, having a blood and bondage kink.
Damian preferred to tie you down rather than tie you up. He cares for you, and tying you up puts you in an uncomfortable position (he doesn’t want that) and it screws with your circulation. And if he ties you down, he can see your face as he places the vibrator right on your clit. He can see you try to knock your knees—to no avail.
Damian loved to take a small knife and inflict a wound, if you can even call it that. It was feather soft, and you loved when he would wrap his mouth around the wound and suck the blood. Then he’d kiss you, letting the saliva and metallic taste mingle.
I believe Damian would be into hickies and spanking too, but not the for the violence like I see from the kinkier side of the fandom. He would be into hickies, spanking, bandage, and blood play for the markings. It all boiled down to markings. And that’s not to claim that those activities didn’t get you both off, but Damian’s true enjoyment stemmed from the possessiveness of it all.
That’s why he likes to untie you and massage the rope imprints, then walk you to the mirror and spin you around, letting you see all the prints and marks. He could feel himself harden again, but he knew he’d break you if he ever tried to impose his libido and stamina on you.
Don’t kill me, but Damian isn’t into cunnilingus. He also wouldn’t bottom, not like you’d want him to. If, and that’s a huge “if” ( it’s months into the relationship too), he does bottom, it’s not traditional bottoming. Damian would top from the bottom,” go slower, grind harder, beloved.” And he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave prints, because marks, duh!
Damian likes sloppy blow jobs. I know he’s proper and clean, but trust me. Spit, moans, and whimpers; that’s what gets him off. And seeing your cheeks flush and your breathing quicken, but you keep going lower and taking more of him in. He appreciates the determination, and it makes him feel in control, huge, and dominant which strokes his ego.
#yandere damian wayne#damian wayne#jason todd#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x plus size reader#damian wayne x you#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne x female reader#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x female!reader#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson x oc#bruce wayne#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne x you
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🐾 Il Pawdestinato
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Bianchi!Reader (fc. Alexandra)
Genre: Comfort/Fluff
Summary: A disappointing fourth place as Suzuka has your boyfriend feeling down. Maybe all he needs is a teeny-tiny surprise.
So this is that imagine that I've been talking about making. Sorry, it's taken so long. I hope you all enjoy and I promise I am working on the next chapter of Reputations. I just think that since it's a smaller fic, I could do an imagine and a chapter for the week. Let me know what y'all want me to do!
You internally sighed as you watched the red car with the number 16 cross the line in fourth place. Anger started to bubble below the surface and you had to turn around for a moment, hoping that the cameras in the garage wouldn’t catch the sneer on your face.
How hard was it to get Charles on the podium that his heart needed?
The tenth anniversary and it seemed to not matter to anyone except your family and Charles’s. But of course, it’s Ferrari. Can’t give their driver a decent car or a decent strategy. When Charles is ahead it’s race on if you’re faster. But if Charles is faster but behind it’s stay in position.
When were Ferrari finally going to actually put actions into their words? Or give their chosen driver the better strategies?
Your blood had almost boiled over at the very distasteful words of Damon Hill when he called Charles depressed and emotion during the weekend. Sorry, it’s not like his godfather or your brother had a fatal crash ten years ago. Totally not that.
Charles had to hold you back from seeking out the former champion when you watched the interview.
But now, you just had to be there for Charles.
Your hands held the helmet that the Monegasque would have brought to the podium with him if he had been up there. The helmet that should have been brought to the podium years ago if everything had been according to plan.
But ten years ago, fate had a different story: one that didn’t include your brother in the narrative.
Your high-heeled feet quickly took you to Parc Ferme to meet him there. You didn’t want to be too late. Multiple people in red parted for you as you made your way to the cars. The shiny helmet seemed to blind anyone who looked at it.
Charles took his time getting out of the car in the P4 placement. His heart was heavy as his head turned to look at the wrong Ferrari parked a few meters away. God how he wanted that to have been him. His eyes watered as he started to take his gloves off. He could see the tilt of Carlos’s lip as he gave his post-race interview. He despised the driver for it.
However, as he turned, a glint of silver caught his eyes. The Monegasque almost choked on his spit when he saw that you were holding it up. He all but ran over, trying to get there quickly before Max was called up.
Charles held out his hands when he got close, however he froze when you placed Jules’s helmet in his hands. His own helmet was still on, probably him trying to hide his own tears. Except, you had let yours run free.
You gave him a little nudge.
“Go,” was all you told him.
The Ferrari driver, now with helmet in hand, jogged over to the cool down room. The security around didn’t bother him, almost knowing what he was trying to do. He poked his head around the corner and caught a bit of the conversation.
“And you were struggling with tyres,” he heard Max say as he watched the Dutchman almost give Carlos a cold shoulder. Max’s eyes widened when he caught a familiar red helmet peeking around the corner. He cocked an eyebrow but walked over when beckoned.
“Charlie?” he questioned when he saw the Monegasque crying in his helmet. Max wanted to question him further, but something was thrust in his hands. He looked down in shock.
Charles shuffled on his feet a bit.
“Can-can,” he stuttered under the Dutchman’s gaze. He inhaled deeply. “Can you take this with you? On the podium?”
He shut his eyes tight, not even wanting to see if Max rejected his plea. A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he opened his eyes just a bit. He was confused when he saw that Max was close to tears as well.
Max gulped the big lump in his throat, taken back by what Charles was asking. If Max could, he’d switch with Charles in heartbeat.
He tried to give the brunet a smile, but it came out kind of crooked. Max clutched the helmet close to his stomach, careful not to accidentally drop it. He looked down at the silver detailing. The only thing lacking on it was the Ferrari emblem. His eyes widened a bit when he realized that this wasn’t just an extra helmet from Charles.
“I-I’m sorry I c-can’t bring it up myself,” Charles tried to justify, but he couldn’t get the words out.
In the back of the cooldown room, Checo’s eyes were trained on the pair. His eyes slid to the side only to find Carlos not even looking. The Mexican wished he could hear when they were saying, but the familiar helmet told him everything he needed to know. He watched Charles back away and disappear around the corner. Once the red-clad driver was gone, Checo saw Max stiffen as though he realized what this actually meant.
The second Red Bull driver got off the seat and walked over toward the Dutchman. He peered down at the silver helmet. He could almost hear Max thinking in the silence. Now he was the one to place a comforting hand on Max’s shoulder, as the Dutchman had done for Charles.
“He trusts you Max.”
Max only breathed in and nodded. They were quickly called to line up go to the podium. When the blond got to the top step, he made sure to hold the helmet where everyone could see. It was kind of like a testament to truly show that he was the wrong driver to be holding it on the top step.
His blue eyes tried to find green in the crowd below, but he failed. Max even failed trying to find you. He deflated a bit but still held his head up high. Max’s lips quirked when he heard P screaming from below in the arms of Kelly.
While Max held the helmet, really all he could think of is if he would have friends who’d hold his helmet in reverence if he were to tragically die. He’d like to think that Charles would race with a dedication helmet all race year long. He wouldn’t want it on Carlos’s helmet or Checo’s (but he knew that the two would do it anyway).
Even though he was missing green, his eyes did catch a wide smile. He was glad that Danny was there, knowing the Australian had been close to Jules during his time in F1.
Max had been so caught up in the anthems that he didn’t even realize that they had ended. Not wanting the helmet to get ruined with champagne, he quickly ran around to hide it behind the wall. He made sure it was stable before running back out to join in the celebrations. He knew that he’d have to give it back after, but for now, he could only receive sprays of bubbly.
Charles’s head had been buried in the crook of your next since he got back to his drivers room. You could only rub small circles on his back, trying the comfort the sad man.
“Why am I just never good enough?” Charles whispered into the silence. Your breath hitched when you heard the utter despair in his voice. “Can’t even get a podium for Julio.”
“Charles, it’s not you. Please, never think it’s you.”
The Monegasque only sighed and turned more into you. Your hands blindly reached for your phone. Once your fingers hit the cool case, you immediately grabbed it and started to plan something. You knew that the two of you were headed to Milan this week for sim testing and for the grand opening of LEC. But, you knew that you could make it even more special.
You grinned as you made the plans and sent over a hefty amount of money, but it’d be worth it.
Hopefully.
A knock on the door had Charles sitting up straight. He quickly rubbed his eyes before heading over to the door. When he opened it, he came face to face with a soaked Max, who had slightly sad eyes. In his hands was the helmet.
Max’s gray eyes swept over Charles before looking around the room. He gave you a smile when your eyes met. A quick nod of you head told Max everything he had to know. He turned his eyes back to Charles and handed the headpiece over.
There was some awkward silence before Max coughed.
“I’m guessing you’re headed back to Maranello?”
When Charles shook his head no, the Dutchman was a little confused.
“We’re headed to Milan first,” was all Charles offered.
You snorted at the short words from your boyfriend. Charles grew red but then offered a little more intel. “I have that ice cream thing.”
Max’s eyes widened when he realized that it wasn’t just a rumor or a joke. Charles made a face.
“I’m very serious about my ice cream Max.”
Oh, Max guesses he said that out loud.
The Red Bull driver snorted. “I wouldn’t doubt that Charles. Everything you do, you do it best.”
Now, Charles grew red (but not of embarrassment).
“Thank you,” he whispered, squeezing the helmet a bit tighter. You were still scrolling through your phone as they talked a bit more. You were just making sure that the place you were staying at had the correct accommodations for your surprise.
It was only when Charles got back into his spot on your chest did you realize that Max was gone. You turned your phone off and put your hands into his hair and started to scratch lightly. A content sigh escaped Charles as he finally melted into you. You leaned down to kiss his forehead.
“We have to get going or the flight is going to leave without us,” you murmured into his hairline. You had talked to Fred (more like demanded) about letting Charles skip debrief for the time being. The money in your bank account could pay for whatever expenses the Monegasque would be fined if he skipped everything.
In the plane, Charles had curled up to you once again. When you made sure that he was sound asleep, you got your computer back out. You finished typing out your email to Doni, making sure that everything was in order for when the plane would land. You just hoped that you could keep the surprise a secret for a little longer.
Knowing that Charles would be dead tired when you got to the place where you’d be staying for almost two weeks, you put him straight to bed when you arrived. He went down with little to no arguments and was sound asleep as you unpacked everything.
Pulling back the covers, you were able to slip in next to him. As you were about to fall asleep, Charles wrapped his arm around your middle and brought you closer. His lips met the crest of your shoulder before tucking his head back into your neck. You put your hand over his arm and held it tightly.
In the morning, you were woken up by the sound of a blender from the kitchen. You sleepily put your feet on the cool tile and made your way to the open room.
Charles had his bare back to you as he was slaving over frozen fruit and oat milk. He startled a bit as your cheek came to rest on his shoulder. Your lips pressed against your favorite freckle that stood out amongst the rest of the galaxy on his back.
“Good morning amore.”
You always loved his terms of endearment in the morning when his voice was still deep with sleep.
“Morning Cha.”
Charles smiled as he heard sleep still evident in your own voice. While he pressed the automatic blend button, he turned around to face you. Your eyes were still closed as you looked at him with a dopey smile. Charles couldn’t help but mirror it, even if you couldn’t see it.
He leaned down and placed feather-light kissed on your eyelids before moving down to your nose. The Monegasque always loved doing that as your nose would immediately scrunch after.
A whine left your lips, signally to him that he hadn’t kissed you where you wanted it yet. He rolled his eyes and stooped a bit lower, his lips finally finding solace in yours.
After three years, you still couldn’t get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Your hands slip up his arms until they locked behind his neck, pulling him closer to you. His own hands found themselves planted against the span of your hips.
It was just the two of you in your own little world for a bit, leaving you breathless when you finally parted, smoothie long forgotten.
Charles rested his forehead against yours.
You hummed, getting his attention.
“I have a surprise for you later today,” you told him. Feeling him tense against your chest, you knew he was immediately interested.
“Like, later today or in a few hours.”
“More like in a few hours. We have to get ready and then get going.”
You and Charles quickly drank your smoothies before you headed back to the bedroom to get dressed. Teasingly, you swung the keys around his face as you walked out to the car, claiming that you had to drive because he didn’t even know where you were going.
“You get to be passenger princess now my love,” you called as you climbed into the driver’s seat. Charles could only roll his eyes.
He would never admit it, but he secretly liked being the passenger every once in a while. It gave him the freedom to choose the music and not worry about getting one place to another.
Once the car got closer to the location, Charles had a sense of what was going on. He turned his head toward you once you pulled into the house. His eyes were sparkling (but you knew they’d get brighter once he understood why exactly the two of you were here).
Charles unbuckled with you following suit.
“Are we here to see Mimi?” he questioned as he held your hand, swinging it as you walked.
You were digging through your purse with your other. “Something like that.”
The doorbell was rang and Charles smiled at the sight of his friend.
“Hi mate,” he greeted, pulling Doni into a hug. You gave the man a greeting when you had the chance.
“Follow me,” Doni said, pulling you and Charles into the house. You could tell that the Monegasque was excited as he squeezed passed Doni and immediately went to pick Mimi up. You giggled, seeing your boyfriend turn into a literally baby for the small dog.
Seeing that he was preoccupied, you leaned over to Doni.
“Is he here?”
Doni smiled down at you. “We can go get him.”
You turned to Charles. “Love, Doni is going to show me a new painting that he’s been working on. I’ll be right back.”
The only response you got was Charles kissing Mimi on the head and waving you off. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be mad because moments later, your hands were full of puppy. You clutched the blond dachshund into your chest.
“He’s perfect,” you whispered, kissing the puppy’s head lightly, earning a little yap in return. You and Doni returned to the bigger room, still finding Charles enamored with Mimi. You snorted at the sight.
“Charlie,” you said, gaining the Monegasque’s attention for a moment. The minutes Charles’s eyes were on you, he froze at the sight of the itty-bitty puppy in your arms. He set Mimi down immediately, but the bigger dachshund wasn’t offended.
Charles gingerly stepped over and his hands hovered over the little puppy in your arms. His eyes met yours, silently asking to hold the tiny thing. You rolled your eyes and you gently set the unnamed puppy in his hands.
The baby dachshund looked tiny in your arms, but now looked even tinier in Charles’s bigger hands. The Ferrari driver held the puppy up to his face and was met with a wet tongue against his nose. The giggles that resounded out of the grown man made you melt inside.
After the right amount of attention was given to the pup, Charles looked at Doni.
“What’s his name?” he asked his friend.
Doni smirked down at you.
“That’s for you to decide love.”
It was comical with how big Charles’s eyes got when he finally realized that the puppy in his hands was his (well, you two would share him). Tears even welled up in his green eyes, making them look incredibly glassy.
You cooed at the two while stepping closer to put your hand back on the puppy. The little thing yawned and snuggled deeper into Charles’s hand. His head whipped up so he could look at you.
“I’m never putting him down you know that right? I’ll make him a little pocket in my race suit and he’s going to go everywhere with me.”
You snorted. “I don’t think puppies are built to withstand the G’s baby, but I’ll keep him company in the garage. He’ll have Roscoe to play with next year too.”
Charles stopped listening after you had said “baby,” his brain melting. Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about a future with you and an actual baby. That made blood go to different places and he needed to stop thinking about that.
Doni had walked away for a moment and came back with a piece of paper.
“You think of a name superstar?” the man asked, pen poised to write.
Charles held the British-crème dog up to his face and looked into the boba-like brown eyes. He hummed as he put him back down at stomach level, still not wanting to put him down.
“Leo.”
Now that you snorted. “You’re going to name our son after your rival?”
Charles paled once he realized and stuttered as he tried to make up an excuse. “Non, it’s like the LEC logo. The ‘C’ looks like an ‘O’ if you squint.”
You laughed but nodded at the excuse. “Sure amore, sure. But I think Leo Leclerc suits him. Little baby.”
Doni also laughed as he wrote down Leo’s name. “More like Leo LeHandbag because I don’t think superstar is going to put him down anytime soon.”
You turned back to Charles, but the man was already crouched down next to Mimi, showing off Leo to the older dog. You facepalmed.
“I am dating a literally child. First an ice cream line and now this.”
Doni smiled. “He looks happy.”
You sighed in content. That’s all you had wanted to do since Suzuka: make Charles happy. You couldn’t bring back your brother, but you could offer small hopes to the man you loved so dearly. Your eyes widened when you looked at your watch.
“Love, we have to go. Your launch is in an hour and a half.”
Charles pouted. “We’re bringing him right?”
You smiled softly. “Yes, let’s bring our son.”
The two of you said your goodbyes to Doni before heading out. Charles still wanted to be the passenger so that he could hold onto Leo for longer, knowing that he’d have to give him back to you once the launch started.
“I still can’t believe you named him Leo after Max.”
“He is not named after Max.”
“Sure babe. It’s definitely not like Roscoe being named after Nico Rosberg.”
“Wait. Lewis names Roscoe after Rosberg?”
“Yes Charlie. But it’s ok. I can be second best to your work-wife.”
“Max is not my work-wife.”
“Whatever you say. Il Predestinato now has Il Pawdestinato.”
“HE WON IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA!”
“I swear Charles, I will take him back.”
“LEO LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2024 DOGGIE GRAND PRIX!”
“I’m dating a child.”
y/n_bianchi has posted
y/n_bianchi little Leo Leclerc ☀️
liked by charles_leclerc, lestappenlove, y/nxcharlie, and 4,204,096 others
leclerc_fam oh my gosh he's so cutieeeeeee
i_want_y/n do y'all need another one? cause I can bark 🗣
charliesangels STOP DID Y/N GET HIM A PUPPY AFTER SUZUKA????
lestappenlove not them naming Leo after a certain lion rival
brocedes2.0 reminds me of lewis naming Roscoe after Nico Rosberg
lecluv ice cream, a puppy, and a gorgeous girlfriend - Charles is living the life 😭
roscoelovescoco yous is goings to haves to brings him to the paddocks so I's cans meets new friend! ♥️
y/n_bianchi of course roscoe! I can babysit so the dads can do their thing 🏎💨
lewishamilton can't wait to meet the son!
charles_leclerc he'll be at Shanghai ☺️
roscoe&leo they're going to be the IT dogs of the paddock
leolovescharlie imagine having formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc and Ceo of a multimillion dollar company Y/n Bianchi as your parents
maxverstappen1 I like the name! 🦁
y/n_bianchi i told him that you'd say something
charles_leclerc HE IS NOT NAMED AFTER YOU
y/nxcharlie it's cat dad Max Verstappen vs dog dad Charles Leclerc
iamred_iamyellow choose your fighter
y/n_leclerc I'm just waiting for when y/n is going to show up with a ring
ferrari_fan when I saw I got that dawg in me, best know I'm talking about Leo
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#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#formula one x reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#Leo Leclerc#when I say I got that dawg in me#it's Leo#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#f1 x reader
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rafe wasn’t a big sweatpants wearer.
he liked to think of himself as matured, classy, reeking of money. sweatpants was something he associated with being a slob, lazing around, not getting off your ass and working. that didn’t mean he didn’t own a few pairs— you know, for sleeping, lounging, etcetera.
because of his dislike for the garment, you’d rarely see him in anything other than work slacks or kook-y board shorts, which is why when he brushed past you in the hallway of tanny-hill, wearing grey sweatpants and a black tshirt — you were lost for words.
“wh—where are you going?” you all but mewl, quietly padding behind him as he frantically searches the bowl placed on the chest by the door.
“uh, gotta run n’see barry— the fuck are my keys? you seen ‘em?” he stressed, itching his forehead as he thinks about where he might’ve left them.
“no, uhm… you’re going out dressed like that?” you ask.
grey sweatpants — a grown man’s lingerie. with each step rafe took, it became abundantly clear that he’d skipped out on boxers today, something he never did, true lazy-day style. his dick print hung heavy in the centre below the draw strings, thick and causing a bump in the soft fabric. he glances down at himself upon following your gaze and shrugs obviously.
“laundry day.” he stops his search to face you properly, eyeing you where you stand. “the hells with you, seem all out of it today.” his voice is low and tired, and you can’t help but bite down on your glossy bottom lip, stepping towards him. you say nothing, staring up at him— and he stares back, eyes vacant and lips parted. you stand on your tip-toes and kiss him.
he kissed back, albeit confused— and as soon as you pressed your body to his, feeling his bulge right on your tummy — something took over you. it wasn’t enough that you were ovulating, the sweatpants were making you feral.
you quickly pull away to sink to your knees, a hand stroking his hip bone as you start to leave kisses to his clothed cock, the meat of it instinctually hardening beneath your trained touch. he smirks for a moment in disbelief, watching the way you mouth at him — humming like you were the one being pleased.
“alright, hey— i get it. ‘think sarah’s home. you—you want her comin’ down the stairs n’seeing the shit? stand up, kid.” he reluctantly reprimands you, giving your jaw a firm little tap but you only whine and pull him closer— your open mouth breathing hot air onto his growing erectjon, flat of your tongue pressed to the soft fabric between loving kisses.
“s’okay dad just wanna give you kisses.” it comes out muffled, distracted, like you don’t actually know what you’re saying. he licks his lips irritably at you not listening, eyes fluttering before he grabs your jaw, pulling you up to stand.
“i said alright. easy, yeah?” he warns once he’s closer to eye level with you, still gripping your jaw. you grin, all slick-lipped and glassy eyed.
“can’t go out anymore daddy, not like that.” you point to his crotch, your mouth having darkened the light grey fabric all around his hardened bulge— making it obvious something had gone down. it was true, he couldn’t go out like that. barry was always looking for new things to tease rafe about, and this would be giving him perfect ammunition. he presses his lips together, nostrils flaring before he lets go of your face, the same hand reaching round to the back of you, grabbing the back of your little booty shorts and yanking, using the momentum to spin you suddenly to face the same way as him.
as soon as you’re facing the other way he slaps your ass, before prodding at your shoulder — signifying for you to walk toward the stairs. “shit, little brat. start walkin’, think you owe me something.”
you giggle, slowing your pace like you were gonna come back with another retort but he simply gives your shoulder another little shove — practically bullying you. “said go, didn’t i?”
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ex-boyfriend's dad!harry part 1
Summary: After you break up with your boyfriend, his dad, Harry, stops by your apartment to drop off a few of your things. But that's not all he's there to bring you.
A/N: This full series is already live on Patreon, with all 4 parts up! Part 2 will be posted here in one week.
Word Count: 8.17k
Series Warnings: explicit content, smut (including anal, rough blow jobs), age gap, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, choking, slight degradation, use of small implements (collar and leash, anal plug)
Part 1 Warnings: angst, slight inappropriate moment between you & Harry at the beginning featuring skinny dipping and subtle flirting
Ex-boyfriend's Dad masterlist
. . .
You didn’t know what had gotten into you. Skinny dipping in the pool at midnight under the stars. Well, you did know, actually. Two bottles of Italian red wine. That and your boyfriend’s dad, Harry, encouraging you. You were both at least two bottles in.
You’d been dating Tyler for nearly two years, and so Harry told Tyler to invite you to come along to their yearly vacation in Lombardy, Italy. The Style’s family owned a small villa in the hills and Harry made it a point to take a couple of weeks there every year.
So you were honored and more than excited when he invited you. Of course, you weren’t going to miss it.
And now you’d been in Lombardy for 5 days and Tyler went to bed a little early on this particular evening while you and his dad stayed outside on the patio overlooking the lighted pool drinking bottles of wine and talking about relationship things that may or may not have ebbed into very slightly inappropriate territory. But you’d think about all that later on.
Because here you were swimming buck naked with your boyfriend’s very handsome dad. You didn’t peek (not really) when he dove in with a big, dimpled smile after you slid in quickly with a squeal and he laughed with his back turned and a promise he wouldn’t look.
Because here you were taking another pour of wine with him and clinking glasses while you laughed. Wearing nothing. With your boyfriend’s very very handsome dad.
Of course, it was difficult to see fully what was going on under the reflection of the water. But you did notice a few things about Harry. About your boyfriend’s dad. One was that he had way more tattoos than you originally realized. You knew he had tattoos on his arms and you’d seen peeks on his chest before. But with him completely naked you saw a lot more. And you could tell he had a tattoo on his left thigh – something large. There were also tattoos on his hips, both sides. But more than that, you couldn’t help to notice the dark patch at his crotch and the floating thing attached to said dark patch, which you were sure was his dick. Obviously.
But you didn’t stare too hard. Well, you tried not to look anyway.
You tried keeping your tits under the surface of the water as well but every time you bounced to get toward the edge of the pool they did make an appearance. You crossed your arm over your nipples as you reached for your glass and Harry laughed.
“I’m not looking. I swear!” He raised his arms and grinned.
“I mean it’s just in case,” you giggled before you took a big gulp from your glass.
Harry was swimming toward the far end of the pool away from you, his back muscles flexing with each stroke. The lights in the pool were illuminating every one of his movements, and yours too, you were sure, as you placed the glass down and plunged under the surface of the water to swim toward him.
It felt so freeing and light to swim naked. You’d never done it before and when Harry suggested it as a sort of dare you told him how you always wanted to and that’s how this all happened. You didn’t regret it even though you were sure Tyler wouldn’t appreciate it. But you were having fun.
Suddenly you felt Harry’s hand on your ankle as he pulled at you, causing you to twist under the water. You reached toward his hand just as he let go and then pushed your head out of the water with a gasp, “Hey!”
Harry laughed. He was already swimming toward the other side of the pool, away from you, “What? What happened?” He stopped and turned toward you, a look of faux concern on his face.
“What do you mean what?!” You pushed yourself off the wall to swim toward him, “You grabbed me!”
Harry watched you dog paddle toward him with a big smile on your pretty face. He was just trying to make you laugh. Liked hearing it. Liked seeing you smile. Because he had noticed how you weren’t quite as carefree around Tyler lately. He noticed how your demeanor had changed from what he used to know of you, and he’d even overheard an argument you and his son had just the night before. He was worried that you and Tyler were drifting apart. Though it wasn’t his business at all, he figured the least he could do was to make you smile. This was your vacation too.
“Nope. I’m over here,” he laughed, “Couldn’t have grabbed you. Must have been like one of those pool monsters or something.”
You laughed loudly, the sound bouncing off the water and the trees all around. Harry smiled widely.
“You’re so cheesy, Harry,” you splashed water at him and clung to the edge of the pool.
Harry swam next to you and put his arm on the edge of the pool facing you, “Cheesy? How so?”
He was a bit close to you. Not that you minded. You trusted him but you didn’t trust yourself not to let your eyes wander. His chest was delectable and the muscles on his arms with his tattoos… his jawline.
You cleared your throat before smiling, “Pool monster?”
Harry laughed and nodded, “Yes. Pool monster. There’s one that lives in this pool. Did you not know?”
You shook your head, “That’s what I mean. Cheesy. Such a dad thing to say even to a grown woman.”
“Oh you’re a grown woman are you?” Harry blew out a laugh through his nose as he kept his lagoon-green eyes on yours.
You splashed at him again but then Harry retaliated with a massive spray of water back in your direction. You had no idea how he did it, but it was like a bucket of water was thrown at you.
Gasping you let go of the edge of the pool and flailed in the water coughing. It was dramatic but you’d swallowed a big gulp of pool water and sucked in some through your nose.
You heard Harry laughing and then felt his hand on your sides to lead you toward the side of the pool, “Take it easy. Here, back to the edge. You okay?”
You put your arms over the side and coughed, momentarily forgetting your tits were out and about for anyone to see. For Harry to see.
Harry patted your back and then as you calmed you felt his palm smoothing up and down your spine, “Sorry, Y/n. Didn’t know you’d open your mouth up and take a gulp like that,” he laughed softly.
You smushed yourself to the edge and took a breath before looking at him, “You’re trying to drown me,” you chuckled.
He didn’t mean to look. He told himself to keep his eyes on your face but you were half out of the pool, your breasts pressed into the tiles and when his eyes lowered you saw it clear as day. But maybe a small part of you liked it. He quickly moved his gaze elsewhere and you smiled as you lowered yourself back under the surface.
“Really wasn’t. Just figured you’d be ready for splash retribution. You have to keep your guard up, Y/n. Rule number one of pool play,” he laughed and then finally looked back at you. Into your eyes this time.
“I’ll remember that from now on,” you grinned and then with all you had, cupped your hands and splashed him directly in his face before you swam away laughing as he thrashed in his spot.
You heard him let out a short cackle before you heard the water moving under him. He was swimming toward you quickly. And Harry was a much better swimmer than you so in only seconds he was grabbing your arm and then pulling at you to lift and fling you forward, all your bits out for him to see before you landed in the water with a splatter and a plop.
His laughter was contagious. You turned to him with your mouth dropped open in surprise but couldn’t help but giggle.
“Sorry, Y/n! Fuck…” he shook his head and smoothed his wet hair back, “Forgot we’re in our birthday suits,” he pulled his lips into his mouth, his elbow at the edge of the pool. You followed and hung on to the edge for a reprieve from needing to kick your feet and flap your arms for a moment.
“I guess that’s just part of pool play,” you laughed. Harry nodded, his dimples casting shadows into his cheeks.
You both took a sip from your glasses.
“You and Tyler had an argument last night,” Harry suddenly spoke what was on his mind, “Couldn’t help overhear it. Didn’t mean to but…” he shrugged.
You nodded before placing your glass along the tiles next to the pool, “Right. I mean, I know we were loud. We’ve been arguing a bit more lately. Sorry about that.”
“What’s wrong? Anything I can help with? Hate to know you two are having any problems.”
You smiled at him, “No. Nothing you can help with. We just sometimes don’t see eye to eye on certain things.”
Harry sat his wine glass down next to yours, “Like what?”
“Harry, I don’t know… it’s not something I think Tyler would want me to tell anyone.”
He laughed and began to backstroke away from you and then turned and swam back, “So don’t tell him you told me,” he licked his lips and you watched as his deep pink rose-colored lips quirked up.
You raised your brows and grinned back, “You can’t say anything. Swear to me,” you pointed.
Harry moved in closer, his eyes on you, “Of course, Y/n. I would never say anything.”
You believed him. Maybe it was because he had always given you the vibe that he was a good person to tell secrets to. Or maybe it was two bottles of wine making you more likely to gab.
“He… well he’s not super adventurous in bed,” you bit your lip and looked down at the water, of course noticing the fleshy bit swaying between his legs had you averting your eyes quickly to the edge of the pool.
“Oh?” Harry hadn’t expected you to say that. “Tell me more. Why did this turn into an argument?” He put his elbows on the edge of the pool as you moved to pick up your glass.
“Like…” you glanced at him and laughed as you shook your head, “I’m not gonna tell you everything but for example,” you placed your elbows over the edge, mimicking Harry, “I… you know, enjoy giving him blowjobs. But… he doesn’t want to like,” you looked down at the tile and laughed, “Oh my god I can’t believe I’m about to say this… he doesn’t want to thrust into my throat because he thinks it’ll hurt me.” You placed your face into your hands and chuckled.
You turned to look at Harry slowly only to find a soft grin on his face, “And? Why did this turn into an argument?”
Swallowing down your saliva you decided to just drop the bigger bomb because none of it made sense without that big detail and, well, you were two bottles of red deep so why the hell not?
“He never returns the favor,” you watched his eyes widen.
“What? He doesn’t? Like ever? Ever?” The look of horror on his face was almost comical. But it definitely matched your own feelings about the whole thing.
You shook your head, “So, sometimes he does. But he’s only down there when I beg him and then it’s for two minutes tops and it’s awful. He hates doing it and it makes me feel awful about myself and he always reassures me but it’s so hard not to take personally because I am so excited to do it for him. I just don’t get why he doesn’t like it with me. And that just leads to us fighting."
Harry nodded, “Well I get why this would be an argument. And I can’t believe he doesn’t…” he shook his head, “I’m kind of surprised to hear this to be honest. Just,” he scratched his head and looked back toward the house where Tyler was probably fast asleep, “Don’t take it personally. I can guarantee it has nothing to do with you, Y/n.”
You took another sip of your wine and then pushed yourself off the wall to float back into the water, kicking your legs as you looked up at the sky, “But it’s okay I guess. Sex isn’t everything, right?”
Harry watched you float back toward the opposite side of the pool, “Right. That’s definitely true.” But while those words were true, Harry didn’t quite believe the deeper sentiment of it.
He swam toward you, taking two long side strokes, and dunked his head under the water. You lowered your legs to float upright when you felt the ripples just as he popped out in front of you, wet hair flopping over his forehead before he took his hand and ran it into his hair to push it back.
“We probably shouldn’t tell him that we did this,” you spoke as you watched Harry’s chest drip with water.
“Wasn’t planning on it. It’ll be our secret.”
That dimpled grin again made you grin in return.
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” you laughed.
Harry lifted his arms from the water, “What? You said you’d never done it and that you wanted to?” He laughed.
“I did. It’s actually really fun.”
“Isn’t it?”
You nodded and glanced at the house and back to Harry. The quiet was making you feel something. Not quite nervous, but definitely something that had your skin rising with goosebumps, and your heart rate increasing. It could have been Harry’s eyes on you. The warmth you felt on your spine when you thought about how you two were both naked and that he’d most definitely seen your breasts when he flung you out of the water. His hands pinched into your thighs as he pushed you upward, which meant he probably had also seen your bottom, perhaps more.
But somehow he didn’t make you feel like you should be ashamed or embarrassed. It was quite refreshing to be around Harry. Even if you were nude and it was probably inappropriate to be doing such a thing with the father of the man you were intimately involved with. Even still, with Harry, it felt honest and natural.
“Harry, this might be one of the best nights I’ve ever had. Seriously. Thank you for having Ty invite me. This feels really special to be here in Lombardy.”
“I’m glad you could come. Honestly, I love Tyler but he’s not nearly as much fun as you.”
You chuckled softly as you looked up at the dark sky, clinging to the edge of the pool. When you kicked, your leg slid against Harry’s. You could feel the solid warmth of his shin and the virile hair that tickled your skin.
“Oh. Believe me. I know I’m way more fun than he is,” you spoke the words as a joke but both you and Harry knew that you were saying something a bit bawdy regarding Tyler’s prudishness.
You gazed at the night sky, the stars bright and flickering in and out of existence before your eyes. Every now and then Harry’s leg would bump against yours but you liked it. Neither of you would do anything to stop the subtle and innocent brushes of skin.
“Isn’t it wild how right now, as we’re looking up at the stars that some of them are already burned out, while others are coming to life and being born right before our eyes? But they’re light years away so we have no idea of the magic that’s taking place.” You spoke quietly.
You could see in your peripheral that Harry had turned his head to look at you, “We’re just at the mercy of the universe, Y/n. Me, you, and everyone else here. It’s beautiful and exciting, isn’t it?”
You smiled, keeping your gaze upward, “I love that. Just as the mercy of the universe,” you turned to look at him as your leg floated against his, “It’s beautiful.”
. . .
“So then you are cheating on me!”
You shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose. Tyler was always jealous. Always worried you were cheating on him somehow. He didn’t trust you. And that made you not trust him.
“This is a great example of why I’m breaking up with you. You always accuse me of cheating on you, yet… I have never and would never! It’s such an insult! You just don’t get it, Ty!”
He put his hands on his hips and laughed coldly as he paced around you, “Something is up. I don’t buy that you just suddenly want to dump me. We’ve been together for almost two years. Why now if it’s not because of someone else?”
Rolling your eyes you crossed your arms over your chest, “Something is up! But it’s not because I’ve been cheating. Fucking Christ you’re insecure.” You sat down on the couch in your two-bedroom apartment. You were glad your roommate was not there. “You and I just… we’re not good together I don’t think. At first, it was good, Ty… So good. But… when I opened up to you and told you what I like, what I wanted to try… you made me feel like a cheap slut. Like my request was unreasonable and how you said you would never look at me the same again… and I don’t know,” you put your head in your hands and looked down at your knees, “You’re not willing to meet me in the middle at all and I just think that it’s a deal breaker.”
“A dealbreaker because I won’t spank you like you want to be spanked? It’s so weird, Y/n! How can I feel good about hitting you?”
“Yes, actually it is a dealbreaker. Because you don’t have to beat me. Just spank me with an open palm. And not only that, you don’t like going down on me, yet I give you half-hour-long blow jobs and I fucking love it. Why don’t you reciprocate?” You shook your head and held your hand up, “Never mind. It doesn’t matter why you don’t, it’s over. This is over.”
“You’re shallow. You always have been. You were just with me because I have money and could buy you whatever you wanted. And I did. But now you’re done and on to the next thing. I know you, Y/n. You forget.” He stepped toward you as he pointed his thumb at his chest, “I put up with it for so long because I actually loved you. And I still do. I could overlook it all. Everything you’ve done I’d just forgive you because I love you. Knowing you would break up with me for this just proves to me you’re lying. Just remember that,” he pointed at you with his brows raised in warning, “That I loved you despite the fact that you lied to me.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. His stupid words made you lose it. You leaned forward and your body shook from how hard you’d begun to laugh until you cackled in loud guffaws like an idiot. Tears poured from your eyes as you tried to stand up and compose yourself but you couldn’t stop the scene you were making. It was one of those fits of laughter that make it look like you’re crying because your face was scrunched up and big wet tears were pouring from your eyes. And you tried to stop but it was so hard to calm yourself that you only got even more wound up trying to stop and the whole thing started all over again.
Yeah. That’s what was going on when you broke up with Tyler Styles. Your boyfriend of almost 2 years. You were laughing uncontrollably after his usual bullshit spiel had pushed you over the edge. And you knew he believed his own bullshit and that just made it even funnier.
You loved him. From the beginning he was amazing. You two really got along well but then you started having sex regularly and things changed fast. When you two first started having sex it was infrequent due to your distance (you were away at a college in a different state) so when you could have sex it was wild and hot and it didn’t matter what sort of preferences either of you had. You didn’t care. You were getting to have sex. Good sex. And that’s all that mattered.
But then you moved back into your hometown to finish off the last year of college at home and you had access to Tyler every day. Then you got an apartment with a roommate and Tyler began staying with you and you two were going at it a lot more.
It was great. Until it wasn’t.
You also realized, during that year of being with him every single day, that he was insecure and manipulative. And that wound up turning into very insecure and manipulative after you told him you wanted to be choked a little. Wanted to be spanked. Wanted him to spit on you and in your mouth. Wanted him to rail you. Wanted to try anal.
You thought if you told him what you wanted things would get better in bed because, in all honesty, he wasn’t doing it for you anymore. Not that you didn’t love him and enjoy him. But he hardly ever ate you out, and you got bored of that same old thing. He didn’t seem to mind. He got to nut in you and roll over and go to sleep. Like you were an old married couple.
And that just wasn’t going to cut it for you. You were too young to have underwhelming sex with a guy who thought less of you for liking the things you did. You just weren’t compatible anymore.
But what was worse? The way he didn’t trust you. The way he tried to make something that was his fault into your fault. The way he’d talk in circles and would never own up to his mistakes and point out what he felt you’d done wrong.
And of course, there were the questionable texts you found between him and your friend Yola just a few months before.
That was not your finest moment. You were tired of him accusing you of cheating or acting suspicious of you every time you went out with the girls and so you wondered if he was cheating on you. And the moment you and access to his phone after he drank himself into oblivion one night you went through it. You always swore you would never be one of those women to go through their boyfriend’s phone. But you were in the end. And while the texts between the two of them weren’t all that bad, you still had your guard up.
So you paid close attention to him and how he acted when she was around. You started checking his phone regularly. Started looking through his comment history on Reddit. Perusing his likes on Instagram.
You became what you never wanted. In the end, you never found anything incriminating. Which was a relief, of course, but even if he wasn’t cheating there was no more love there. You were done.
“What the fuck is so funny?”
Still laughing, you wiped your tears and stumbled dramatically, holding onto the wall between your couch and the front door. You’d just about had enough of him. “You–“ you hiccupped a laugh and wheezed as you bent forward to calm down. Sticking a finger up to indicate you needed a minute you shook your head and finally stood upright to look at him in the eyes, your breaths and bursts of giggles slowing, “You are so full of shit. Did you just hear yourself? I can’t handle the way you always minimize your own issues. Just…” you pointed at the door, “Leave. Okay? This is over.”
. . .
“She laughed in my face when I told her I loved her and that I would forgive her for cheating,” Tyler went home and cried to his dad about you breaking up with him.
“She was cheating on you?” Harry raised his brow at Tyler who was slumped pathetically on the couch.
“Probably. I think so because she’s been interested in doing things in bed and I can’t figure out why. It’s gross.”
Harry sat down and draped his ankle over his knee, “What’s gross? I’m confused about what happened?”
“She’s a bitch. She was using me–“
“Whoa, hold on there. Watch how you talk about her. You were with her for almost 2 years. Don’t say that about Y/n.”
Tyler sat up straight and looked at his dad, “But her reasons for breaking up with me are so shallow. I’m not pleasing her in bed? Because I won’t choke her or spit in her mouth? It’s like she turned into a different person. I think she must have been seeing someone else because she broke up with me over it.”
Harry nodded wondering what could be so bad about any of that. But of course, he enjoyed a little bit of rough sex himself. He was surprised Tyler seemed so put off by it. But after learning what you had told him that night in Lombardy, he figured this shouldn’t be too big of a surprise.
His son didn’t even like to eat pussy. If Tyler didn’t look almost exactly like him, he’d wonder if this was even his son. Because Harry liked all kinds of kinky shit in bed.
“So she wanted to try some kinkier things with you. Did you try any of it with her?”
“You don’t even know the half of it, Dad,” Tyler shook his head, “Anal sex too. I mean… what woman wants that? I don’t know. Maybe she was addicted to porn or something.”
Harry swallowed thickly and looked toward the window for a moment in thought as his back heated up at that comment. Anal sex. He tried not to imagine you in that way but it was hard. He’d already gone down that tricky little road in his imagination after that night you both skinny-dipped together. He’d seen you completely naked. He hadn’t meant to look but when he grabbed you by the back of your thighs and pushed you out of the pool he slid his hand up to your bottom and your legs spread as you landed into the water and he saw it all. He’d lost his damn mind when he did it. It was like he was playing with a lover there for a moment and he’d forgotten you were his son’s girlfriend. Well, now ex.
“You didn’t answer my question. Did you try exploring with her at all? See what you might like?”
He shook his head, “I’m not going to choke and spit on someone I love. And anal?” He said the word as if it were disgusting, “It’s so weird. I don’t know what happened to her. She used to be so sweet.”
“I see. So it sounds like you two were no longer sexually compatible anymore and you’re just assuming she’s been cheating.”
“Are you taking her side on this? She broke my heart, Dad. We used to be so good together. It was perfect and then suddenly she just wants me to hit her and be rough with her? It doesn’t add up.”
Harry sighed and shook his head as he leaned his back into the couch cushion. He and Tyler had always been able to talk about anything and everything, which he was proud of. But he wondered if Tyler really saw the bigger picture about you and how important it was to be with someone you’re compatible with. Harry wasn’t going to tell his son what happened that night. The things you’d told him in confidence. And between what his son was telling him now and what you had told him before, he could tell Tyler wasn’t telling the whole story.
“Look. I know you’re upset and hurt but from what you’re telling me it doesn’t sound like you actually know if she was cheating or not. Right?”
“But what else explains her breaking up with me?”
“Tyler, for some people, it’s really important to be sexually compatible with your partner. That can be enough to end a relationship. When someone isn’t satisfied in bed anymore, it might lead to other issues as well.”
“But she used to be satisfied. Something changed. I just don’t know what.”
Harry really wanted to be supportive of his son. But the way he brushed off his lack of effort to make you happy did concern him. It felt like Tyler didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. And it seemed to make sense based on what he knew. Based on what you told him.
He thought back to that night with you in Italy.
He draped the towel over your shoulders as you crossed your arms to cover your chest, “You know I would understand if you felt that was enough to break up with Tyler over. Things like that can slowly erode a relationship from the inside out.”
When you’d clutched the towel safely in front of yourself you turned and shook your head, “It wouldn’t be just for things like that. He’s also really insecure. Always thinks I’m doing something I shouldn’t. He’s even accused me of cheating on him,” you rolled your eyes.
Harry already had his own towel wrapped around his waist, his bottom half fully covered from view, “Well that’s definitely something. If you don’t mind me asking…, why are you still dating him?”
You both began to walk toward the house, clutching your clothes in your hands, “Because it feels like such a waste if we just end it after 2 years, you know? I just want to be able to make it work with him. But I don’t know how much more I can take. I love him… it’s just hard.”
He nodded and put his arm over your shoulder to bring you in for a quick side hug before you walked into the house, “Just do what’s right for you, Y/n.”
. . .
You slept like a baby that night. You weren’t sure if it was because you’d finally had the guts to end it with Tyler or because you wore yourself out laughing like a madwoman. Either way, you realized how easy it was to be without him. How good it felt to be done with him. Relief.
You thought about Harry and his words to you, just do what’s right for you. And this was right. He had given you good advice.
The last time you saw him was when you parted ways at the airport after spending two weeks in Lombardy with him. And while Tyler was there, you both fought the whole time. Tyler was more like an afterthought on that trip to you. After the big fight that Harry overheard, you didn’t even sleep in the same bed with him. So you wound up spending a lot of time with Harry without Tyler around. It was fucking fantastic. Especially the night under the bright stars in that big pool telling each other secrets.
It was one of the best nights of your life. Harry was one of those men that were rare and truly kind and thoughtful. But he was handsome and charming as well. You’d always found Harry very attractive but you’d have never done anything with that attraction. Besides, you figured it was natural to find other people attractive. And not only that, the apple truly did not fall far from the tree in this case. Well, looks wise anyway.
Tyler was two inches taller than his father and a bit leaner, but he had the same brown wavy hair, green moony eyes, and raspberry-pink lips. Harry’s voice was deeper with more baritone but they did sound similar in some ways. Once you thought Tyler was talking to you until you heard him say your name, and then you knew it was Harry (you had your back turned). Harry said your name in a way that made your neck prickle with heat.
But as much as they looked alike physically, that’s basically where their similarities ended. Where Tyler was insecure, his dad was confident. Where Harry could laugh off a mistake, his son would explode and get red in the face and blame the nearest person for the problem even when it was something small. You could go on but it was useless to dwell on it. The truth was Tyler was nothing like Harry in the ways that mattered.
You didn’t want to think about Harry the way you had been. But it was hard not to. The way he handled himself and didn’t sweat the small things… how mature and understanding he was. How he didn’t get embarrassed easily and that allowed him to be more vulnerable and honest.
And all of that combined with his sturdy, masculine body and the more mature features on his face… Harry was indeed more physically attractive as well. Sure Tyler looked so much like him it was uncanny, but Tyler’s more youthful body and face were lacking something for you.
You’d never really been into older men. Harry was the exception to this. And you only allowed yourself to really see it on your Italian vacation with him.
You felt like you’d miss him more than Tyler. That was the only thing that really sucked about the breakup. Not seeing Harry again.
But it turned out, you would be seeing him again. Because two weeks later when you got a dm from Harry you were quite surprised. In fact, you’d just been thinking of him as you were settling into your bed. It was nearly midnight. It had become routine for you to think about him throughout your day. Especially at night. Maybe inappropriate but you were single and Harry Styles was very good fantasy material.
Hey. Hope you’re doing well. I have a box of your things and thought I could stop by tomorrow afternoon to drop it off if that’s good with you.
And you didn’t know exactly why you did it, why you suggested having him stop by on a night when your roommate was out of town instead, but you did. Maybe you were just feeling him out. Testing the waters so to speak.
You were certainly curious about what could happen if you and Harry were alone with no major consequences to hinder something from happening… you were both single and you had been severely neglected in bed. And something told you Harry would give you what you’d been seeking. That is if he were interested. It was a stretch to think he’d do anything. You were his son’s ex after all. It would be quite scandalous.
It was silly, you knew it was. But when he said he could come over at the newly arranged date and time, somehow it made you feel like you’d just set up your first date since breaking up with Tyler.
It wasn’t a date. No, you needed to get that silly notion out of your mind. Harry would be cordial and warm with you. You actually couldn’t imagine anything much happening in reality.
Yet here you were, an hour before he was due to arrive, making sure your skin was smooth and applying a pretty-smelling lotion all over your limbs. You’d even picked out an outfit. Something that wouldn’t make it look like you were trying too hard but that was just cute enough for him to hopefully notice. It was just a regular Thursday night after all. Well, it was supposed to be.
You could admit you were looking forward to seeing him again. Even if nothing came of it. Even if he just dropped off the box of your things and you handed him Tyler’s stuff and he hugged you and said goodbye… well. That would be okay. Disappointing but the more likely scenario.
When you heard the buzzer go off your heart rate picked up and you felt shaky as you ran to your front door to hit the button to let him inside the building. Your head was filled with images of what you’d imagined the night before but you pushed it down the best you could as you swallowed and took a deep breath.
None of that, Y/n.
The knock at your door came faster than you thought it would as you jumped and clutched your hand over your heart. You needed to chill. You needed to live in reality.
Unlocking your deadbolt, you took another breath in and slowly blew out to calm yourself and as you opened up the door you saw him. It’d been weeks. Just over a month since you’d seen him.
And he had a small box in one arm and a bottle of red wine in the other.
“Hi.” He looked handsome. His clothes were tidy and he looked fresh and clean and you could smell his cologne as you hugged him and then he followed you inside, “Hi. Thank you for switching the day for me,” you turned to him after closing the door, “How have you been?”
Harry looked around your living room and then back to you, those pretty green eyes taking you in making you feel that recognizable spine tingle. Your temperature began to rise without your permission.
“Good. Missed you coming around. Uh…” He held the box out to you, “Your things.”
You took the box with a small smile and then he lifted the bottle of wine by its neck, “And I brought this. Didn’t know if you had time to talk or anything but thought we could share a bottle and sit for a while. Only if you wanted.”
Yes. Yesyesyesyesyesyes… this was exactly what you wanted.
“Oh, that’s so nice of you. Of course, I’d love to sit and chat with you, Harry,” you grinned widely. There was nothing you could do to contain the broad smile that broke out over your mouth or the heat that rose to your neck, “I’ll just put this in my bedroom. Be right back!”
You quickly walked into your hallway, still smiling like an idiot, and then entered your bedroom and dropped the box to the floor. You squealed very quietly to yourself and stomped your feet lightly with fists balled up to get out the pent-up excitement, anxiety, and nerves you were feeling before pressing your palms down on your bed for a moment to relax. The grin on your face only got bigger.
“You okay?”
You shot up and turned to see Harry standing in the hallway outside of your room and your eyes widened. Had he seen your whole little display?
“Yeah! I’m fine.” You smiled.
“Sorry, I followed behind you to see if I could find the bathroom and noticed you were having some kind of fit.”
You pushed a quick laugh out of your mouth and felt your back and thighs scorch in embarrassment. He’d seen you. There was no way he wasn’t aware of what that was.
“Um… don’t worry. I’m okay,” your nerves were bubbling over, “The bathroom is the door at the end. The one that’s open.”
“Okay. I’ll be just a minute. Gotta drain the snake,” he grinned.
When he was out of sight you closed your eyes and shook your head. What an absolute dolt you were. But you did not miss the reference to his dick either. Maybe he was trying to feel you out as well.
In the kitchen, you uncorked the bottle and pulled two glasses down. You didn’t have proper wine glasses yet but figured he wouldn’t mind. Harry was not one to fuss about such things.
You placed the bottle and two glasses at your table and sat down just as he appeared and sat down in the chair next to you.
“How have you been, Y/n? With the breakup and everything?” He asked as he took the honor of pouring a glass for each of you.
You kept your eyes on the glasses as you spoke, “Good. Great even. I miss some things about him but it got too complicated at the end and I feel like I can breathe now.”
“That’s good to hear,” he laid his eyes on you as he handed a glass to you, “Cheers.”
You smiled and tapped your glass against his before taking a sip and then reaching for the bottle to see what kind of wine it was.
“Oh! Did you get this in Lombardy?”
Harry laughed, “Actually no. I bought it at the grocery store. They happened to have this wine there and thought it was fitting for the occasion.”
“Fitting for the occasion of you bringing me my ex’s things?” You puffed out a chuckle.
He nodded, “Yes actually. I mean just because you and my son aren’t seeing each other anymore, doesn’t mean I don’t still have good memories of you.”
You looked down at your glass and blinked. He was so nice. He always made you feel so cherished in some ways.
“Yeah. I guess that’s true,” you allowed yourself to set your gaze on his, “I feel the same really.”
Harry nodded, “He told me all about the breakup. That you told him you weren’t satisfied. I had to hold my tongue when he started talking about it. He doesn’t know I have inside information.”
You laughed, “Oh god. I did not go about the breakup in the best way. I wanted to tell him all the reasons I didn’t want to be with him but… I don’t know. There were just so many and I didn’t want to like, pile it all on him and hurt his feelings. I never got around to the bigger issues with his insecurity, the way he was manipulative at times,” you shook your head, “He made some speech about how he loved me despite my lies… and I can’t remember what he said but it was so phony that I couldn’t stop laughing. I broke down in laughter and I think I offended him.”
“Yeah, he told me you laughed in his face. I can only imagine what he might have said. He was pretty convinced you were in the wrong. Didn’t think he’d done anything to cause you to break it off with him.”
“I’m… I feel a lot better now that it’s over with him.”
“He said you suddenly wanted things in bed and you kind of alluded to wanting things he wasn’t willing to do before but was it sudden? Or is he just making that up?”
You shook your head, “I’ve always been into more adventurous things. Well, I mean since I was old enough to know what those things were. When we first got together we were long-distance so it didn’t matter as much but once I moved back here that’s when it got tricky. I tried to subtly initiate things but he wasn’t picking up on it. And then a few months of that I decided to just be straightforward and told him what I wanted. He flipped out and told me he’d never look at me the same.”
“Kind of figured it was more along those lines.”
“Yeah…” you tapped your fingers on the wood of the table and looked at him, “How about we talk about something else?”
Harry sniffed and turned his body toward yours, draping his arm over the back of the chair he was sitting in, “Good idea. I was just gonna suggest that,” he grinned and looked away from you as if to work up the nerve for what he was about to say before placing his eyes back on you, “So where’s your roommate?” His raised brows and the grin on his face felt like he knew something already.
“Oh. She’s visiting her parents for the weekend.” You swallowed thickly at the scrutiny of his eyes.
He nodded slowly, “I need to be honest with you,” he pulled his lips into his mouth and grinned before continuing, “I checked your Instagram and then found your roommate and noticed that she was away based on her posts. You didn’t happen to plan it like this on purpose did you?”
Your lips parted as you looked at his face in surprise. A thick blanket of embarrassment surrounded your body as you hesitated with an answer.
“And that little fit you had in your bedroom. Tell me what that was.”
You cringed and looked down at your lap. You’d been busted. There was no way out of this. Unless you lied to his face and you didn’t want that. Because he was asking you directly, which meant he had a reason for bringing it up.
“I’m sorry, Harry. I…” you shook your head and slowly dragged your gaze back up to his, “Yeah. I did plan it like this. Um… Thought it would be nice to see you without someone else here.”
He continued nodding, “And your little display? That was because you’re excited to see me?” He finished off the sentence with a grin which had you feeling at ease suddenly.
“Yeah,” your response was hardly a whisper as you smiled back at him.
His grin widened and he licked his lips, “Okay. I see. Well, let me tell you my thoughts because I want to be clear with you, Y/n.”
You nodded and angled your body to face him directly. Your heart was raging in your chest so wildly you were almost light-headed.
“I initiated coming over because I wanted to see you in person. To talk, to know how you are. I hoped you’d be just as excited as I am. And it appears that you are,” you watched his eyes drop to your outfit and wind down to the spread of your thighs over the chair you were starting to melt into.
“And since you wanted me here when no one else was around I think you wanted something to happen between us. Now, I hadn’t expected it really but I wouldn’t mind it going in that direction.”
You swallowed and felt every bit of your skin begin to overheat. You kept your eyes on him but you were unable to form a response.
“What is it you wanted to have happen tonight, Y/n? Hoped I’d show you something you had been missing out on? Do you want something from me?”
You flattened your palm on your thigh and averted your eyes to your glass of wine, “Yeah.”
The gentle touch of his finger at your jaw, nudging your face toward him made you inhale shallowly, “Keep your eyes on me, okay? You and I won’t be playing any games here. Understood? I’m gonna need you to be open with me. Tell me what you want.”
The way he was speaking to you and the soft touch of his hand had you almost convinced you were in some kind of sexy dream that you were about to wake up from any minute.
“I…” your voice was breathy, shaky, “I think… anything.” You worried at your lip between your teeth and hoped he’d take over for you. Hoped he’d answer the question for you.
He shifted his hand to thumb over your bottom lip and pulled at it, “Don’t do that. Gonna hurt yourself. Tell me what anything means, Y/n. I’m not a mind reader.”
You cleared your throat and looked to the edge of the room and he tiskd at you, “I said keep your eyes on me, love.”
“Sorry,” you turned your gaze back to his.
“You’re having a hard time coming up with an answer then? Want me to throw out some ideas you can say yes or no to?”
You nodded.
“Well, I’ll start off by naming something I think you’d like, something I’ve been dreaming about doing to you. Okay?”
You continued to nod.
Harry took your hand in his, pulling it to his lap, “I want to show you what it feels like to be eaten out by a man who enjoys it more than almost anything in the world. Would you like that?”
You let out a quiet moan and nodded, “Yeah.”
He nodded as he stood and pulled you up with him, “Let’s start there then.”
A/N: Hope you enjoyed part 1! I promise you that the smut will commence in part 2 (and be prepared, part 2 has approximately 9k words of smut out of 10.8k words total, so she's FILTHY)
PART 2
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i still hear you. (prologue)
PAIRING: post tlou2!ellie williams x reader
SUMMARY: ellie stumbles upon your self-run town after her life is destroyed, except there's more to this town then what meets the eye. and it seems like there is more to you too.
WARNINGS: 18+ mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x
A/N: i've been working on this one for a while... i hope you enjoy! please send asks, reblog, and reply to this post <;3
WORD COUNT: 3k
"i still hear you laughing, but only for a minute"
Spring couldn’t come fast enough for Ellie.
The cold still nipped at the exposed skin on her hands, ghosting the phantom limbs of the two fingers she was now missing. Everything was cold. The tip of her nose, her ears, and most importantly her heart. As she wandered aimlessly, unsure of where to go, she knew there was one place she couldn’t go: home.
Jackson was no longer a place for her. Joel was gone, Tommy thought she was weak, and Dina…Well, Dina wanted nothing to do with her. Dina had a lot she could blame Ellie for before Ellie left, but she never did. She stayed. And now, on top of all of that, Ellie had left one of the few people in her life who cared enough about her to stay. Spring could come tomorrow but it would forever be winter inside her.
She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she was going west. She couldn’t handle the harsh winters of the East Coast, and Wyoming stopped feeling like home before she left for Seattle. She thought about staying on the farm and living out whatever short life she was going to have there, but staying in that home painted with memories of “what ifs” would drive her crazy.
So she packed enough supplies to last her a few months if she hunted her food and headed to the West Coast. The first few days were silent, she only encountered a few infected and found shelter in abandoned buildings. She lived off of expired food she found in vending machines in old universities and occasionally sang herself to sleep.
On her tenth day, she found a car that lasted her about 2 days. Once it broke down, she just kept walking. Over abandoned highways and thick forests, she just kept walking. On day 17, she reached California and stumbled upon an eerily similar set of walls. It looked just like the gates at Jackson, except these were concrete and better built. They were much higher, and the gates almost looked… automatic.
Ellie was hesitant. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she definitely wasn’t looking for another hometown to destroy. She approached the large walls cautiously, with her hands up and slowly. As she walked closer she was screaming, “I come in peace,” over and over again. She was almost 50 feet near the gate when she heard a girl's voice shout, “Don’t come any closer.”
She stopped in her tracks as the automatic gates began to open. Ellie expected an army of people with guns blazing, just how it was when she first arrived at Jackson, but when the gates opened there just stood you, grounded in all your glory, and a gun aimed right at her face. She wanted to laugh, but that just seemed sexist.
Instead, you pressed forward, unwavering, with your gun aimed right at her. She didn’t step backward, or even breathe, she just stood there until you were close enough to her to make out all the freckles on her face and the slit in her eyebrow.
“Who are you?” you spat at her.
“Ellie,” she breathed out, her hands faltering a bit.
With your hand firmly wrapped around the cold metal of the gun, you inched forward again, pulling back the slide, a metallic click echoing in the silence. The gun was loaded, and you were letting Ellie know that you weren’t afraid to shoot. Her hands stiffened again.
“What are you doing here?” Your tone was tough and the look on your face was enough to send Ellie running for the hills, but it also made her want to crack a smile. Your nose scrunched up as you spoke, and your lips were somehow not chapped in this weather. But Ellie didn’t smile, she was sure if she did you would put one right between her eyes. That much she was sure of.
“I-” Ellie hadn’t thought this far. What was she doing here? “I’m just looking for a place to stay.”
Your eyebrows creased as you gave her a once over, looking for any sign she was trouble. It was in your nature to search for danger, but she wasn’t raising any red flags. Except the fact that she made it here alone and unscathed, and was missing two fingers.
“What happened to your hand?” you asked, tipping the gun slightly to her hand. A pained expression crossed her face, it was almost like she forgot that two of her fingers were quite literally bitten off, but that fight was somewhere shoved deep inside her mind. It wasn’t something she wanted to remember.
“Lost them in a fight,” she replied simply, there was no point in telling the full story. It’s not like you had the time.
“You can’t stay here if you’re going to be trouble,” finally you put the gun down, resting your hands on your hips, giving her a firm look. Ellie would hand it to you, you were absolutely scary. In her mind, she knew she could take you, but she also wasn’t so sure of that.
“I’m,” she sighed, lowering her hands slowly, “I’m done with that. I won’t be trouble,” and for the first time in Ellie’s life, she meant that. She was ready to start over. She knew the fighter in her would always be there, itching to come out but she had been fighting her whole life. It was time to give up. She had already lost everything. Or so she thought.
Your face softened slightly before firming up again, your empathy peeking through like it always did. You looked her over again, sighing, as you signaled for someone at the gate to come. A man with short blonde hair trotted over, a leash in his hand. He looked kind as he offered a smile to Ellie.
“Old girl here is just gonna check to make sure you’re not infected,” he smiled, dropping the leash. Ellie’s heart rate picked up again as she watched the German Shepherd approach her slowly, sniffing around her as it circled her. You stood behind the blonde guy with your arms crossed across your chest. The dog found nothing and returned to the man, sitting down next to him, “Looks like you’re all clear!”
“Welcome to Mono City,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes as you turned back towards the gate, walking in that direction. You were halfway there when you realized Ellie wasn’t moving. Turning on your heel again you stared at her, hand on your hip again. You had an attitude, Ellie thought, cute. “You coming or what?”
The small town sat on a large lake, glistening as the sun's rays bounced off the surface. Buildings were built close together, trees without leaves scattered on the walkway, and about a hundred people out on the street as she trailed behind you, earning dirty looks from half of them. Ellie scowled back. Ellie smiled when you introduced yourself to her, telling her your name and a few key details about yourself. She learned you served as some sort of mayor here, keeping everything in order, and that you were the person that people came to. She would be lying if she said that didn’t intimidate her. But all Ellie did was give you her name again and tell you that she was from Jackson, anything else she said would fall short.
“How are you with your hands?” you asked, voice flat and simple. Ellie choked on her words, stuttering a response.
“I’m, well,” she coughed, “I’m just okay with them now, since,” she shrugged gesturing to what she now called her ‘bad hand’, “you know.”
A wave of guilt crossed your face as you composed yourself, somehow already forgetting your previous interaction. You shook your head solemnly, cursing quietly under your breath as you stopped.
“Shit,” you turned to her, eyes squeezed shut, “sorry, I’m so used to asking the same questions, I didn’t even think.”
“It’s fine don’t worry about it,” she gave a tight-lipped smile. Now, with the illumination of the buildings, she could see your whole face. You were pretty, that she was sure of, but it was a more down-to-earth pretty. A type of pretty that you had to take in. You had scars around your face, and a pretty big scar down the side of your neck. It almost looked like the one Ellie had on her arm. But still, scars and all, you were just nice to look at.
“Well, just for that reason we probably won’t have you be on guard duty,” you stated, eyes flicking around her face, “do you have any other strengths?”
“Uhm,” Ellie had to think for a minute. She had never really been asked anything like this before. What were her strengths? Did she have any at all? She used to be good at guitar, but now she couldn’t play, and that probably wouldn’t be useful at all to anyone here. She was good at art still, something she couldn’t take for granted anymore. It was all she had. The scratched-out drawings of Dina, JJ, Jesse, and Joel were stuffed deep into her bag.
“I’m good at art,” she shrugged, “and writing, maybe.”
“Okay,” you smiled, showing off your teeth, making her warm a bit, “that we can work with. Maybe you can teach at the school.”
“You have a school here?” Ellie gawked. Jackson had a school but it was small and had maybe two or three teachers.
“Yeah,” you turned to keep walking, making Ellie stumble behind you to keep up, “we have three. An elementary, middle, and high school.”
“Wow,” Ellie was in awe, “It’s not like a military school or anything?”
“No,” you answered quickly, your voice tight, “It’s not like any of that shit. We don’t fuck with FEDRA here.”
Ellie would be lying if she said that wasn’t music to her ears.
“It’s just like a normal school except we teach a lot more practical things. Things we can use like, cooking, science, and English. Like reading or writing. Since you’re new you will probably start with the elementary school. We also have little extracurriculars and we’ve wanted to introduce art but haven’t been able to find anyone yet.”
“Oh, cool,” was all Ellie said as you both stumbled on what looked like a residential street. There were rows of houses, all that looked the same. There was a road, with cars parked on them and driveways with gates. Most of the houses looked about two stories tall, some had toys lying in the front yards and a few animals were roaming about, small cats and dogs. The porches had furniture on them, little couches and chairs, and as she walked she noticed some people outside with mugs in their hands as if they were drinking their morning coffee. The town looked like something she saw out of a movie, only something she could dream about. Her eyes were wide in awe as you rambled on about something but Ellie was honestly too entranced in everything. Here, in the middle of nowhere was a whole town of people living their lives, as if nothing had ever happened to them.
“Ellie?” you stopped in your tracks, crossing your arms over your chest. There was your attitude again, “are you even listening?”
“Y-yeah, I am. It’s just-”
“A lot, I know,” you sighed, “but you gotta listen, there are a lot of rules here. Rules that make this place function and if you don’t follow them, you could easily be kicked out.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, genuinely meaning it, “I’m listening, promise.”
“It’s fine,” you gave her a fake smile, turning to push open a gate to a nice house, “This will be your place.”
“Uhm,” Ellie stopped, not entering the front yard, “what do you mean ‘my place’? This is far too big for me.”
“This is the only size our houses come in,” you replied matter-of-factly, “you can just say thank you.”
Ellie blinked as she looked up at the blue house, that looked like it was built yesterday. It had a wrap-around porch and two white columns right by the entrance. The door was a giant white door with a gold handle. This was nicer than any house she’s ever been in, and way too big for one girl.
“Thank you,” Ellie replied, still awe-struck, “this is just so nice.”
“You’re welcome,” you smiled, fishing around in your bag for something. You pulled out a pair of keys, and handed them to her, “Here’s your house keys. You don’t get a car quite yet, that’s something you have to work your way up to, but there is a bike in the garage. Spring is around the corner so it will get warmer and you should have your car by next winter so don’t worry too much. My house is right across the block, but I’m usually in the City Center if you need me.”
She wrapped her right hand around the keys, tightening them in her palm. She watched as you searched through your bag again and pulled out a little device.
“This is your walkie,” you took a deep breath, “Try to find me before using it. It’s usually only used for emergencies so just be mindful of that. I’ll be by tomorrow to take you to work, so you have time to get settled in today. Okay?”
“Okay,” Ellie smiled, her voice sounding a little bit breathless.
That night Ellie settled into her new home. Well, she tried to settle into her new home but kept shifting around in every seat and couch, like she couldn’t find something to get comfortable on. She examined every part of the house, picking the smallest room for herself and shoving her backpack in the closet. She took a bath for the first time in months, washing all the dirt and grime off of her. Left in the shower was a bar of soap that looked like it had been handmade and unused. It smelled so good she almost took a bite, but instead chose to use it how it was meant to be used.
As the sun began to set she stepped outside, watching the activity on the block and smiling to herself. Everything just seemed so normal, but with the state of this world this town was certainly abnormal. From her window she could see you in your front yard, feeding a pack of cats that slipped through your white picket fence. She smiled to herself as she watched one rub against your leg, and your gentle hand coming down to pet it. She continued to watch as kids passed your house, waving to you and running back to their homes.
The next few days were uneventful. Ellie found herself getting used to teaching young kids, always laughing when they asked about her missing fingers. It was out of her comfort zone, but she was around JJ enough to know what kids liked. Her voice always got so high-pitched when she spoke to them, and they liked being chased around the room. On her fifth day of working, a kid ran in screaming, “Miss Ellie! Miss Ellie!” with a chicken scratch drawing of his family. He was so proud that all Ellie could say was “Good job, bud!” and ruffle his hair. He left with the biggest smile on his face.
But now, Ellie found herself at the city’s most popular bar, with the other teachers who wanted to congratulate her on her first week. Della, who invited Ellie out in the first place, made a toast to her, clinking her glass with Ellie’s and taking a long swig of her drink. Ellie took a sip of hers too and fuck, this shit was strong.
She felt human again, laughing with people her age in a bar and old music playing. She was almost having a good time until a song came on that reminded her of Joel. It was like her whole demeanor changed and everyone could tell. She excused herself from the group finding a small corner to sit on and finish the rest of her drink, hoping maybe it would make her forget everything. But then, the bell at the front door rang making Ellie look up to see who had entered.
There you were in all your glory, tight shirt on and hair completely loose. It almost looked as if you were wearing makeup. Ellie must’ve been staring too long because she blinked and you were standing in front of her.
“See you got yourself a drink,” you laughed, voice making Ellie’s cheeks turn pink. She was… really drunk.
“Yeah, I could get you one too,” she slurred a bit, goofy smile spread across her face. She watched as something odd crossed your face and now she was worried she said something wrong, “I just mean, like.. you know… I mean like as a thank you.”
“Right,” you sighed.
“For my mansion, you know,” she shrugged and you giggled. You giggled and it went straight to her head. What was she doing?
“You haven’t been paid yet,” you smiled back at her, now moving to sit down, “and it’s okay, I don’t drink unless it’s a special occasion.”
“What? Meeting me is not special enough,” she teased, knocking her shoulder with yours. Her eyes scanned your face, your smile reaching your eyes as you giggled again. Her stomach sank again. She wasn’t so sure if this was just the alcohol anymore, she felt like she was 12 and crushing on Riley again.
“No, it’s special,” you reassured, “Maybe, I’ll drink when you decide to stay.”
“Who said I’m not staying?” she questioned sitting up.
“Some people don’t,” you shrugged, smile fading. Ellie’s brain wanted to make it better, make you laugh again, or shit do anything to put the smile back on your face.
“Well, I’m gonna,” she said gently, so only you could hear her, “I need to get my paycheck.”
You laughed and Ellie breathed a sigh of relief, laughing with you.
“I’ll get that to you,” you smiled, “and we don’t use paychecks.”
“What’re you gonna pay me with?” she smirked, “I know some other ways you can pay me.” Then the same look from earlier crossed your face and she cursed quietly to herself, muttering an apology.
“No, no,” you said, like you were about to let her down gently, “I just try not to get… involved with anyone since…” your voice trailed off.
“Since?” Ellie questioned, but as you opened your mouth to speak the group from earlier made their way over, noticing your arrival and screaming your name. She watched as you got up, hugged everyone and started chatting with them, leaving her with her drink and too many questions.
There was one thing that scared her though. She knew you needed someone who could stay, and the only thing she was good at was leaving.
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x reader smut#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams tlou2#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams fan fic#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams oneshot#modern!ellie williams#college!ellie williams#ellie williams one shot
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Keep Moving Forward
Pairing: König x Reader
Summary: You're determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he's just some guy that's taller than most people right? He's probably harmless! Well, he's a little scary, but you still like him anyway.
(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)
AN: Just want to say a massive thank you for everyones lovely comments on the last part, I can't believe how many notes that has now 😱 I've got a taglist so if you want to be added or removed (I just stuck down everyone that commented or reblogged the last one with tags/comments) lemme know! Also I've got my own version of what König looks like and I've been including details so hopefully you like my thoughts on him 🥰
Part 2 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here
-☠️-
A forbidden crush, a whole unit of men watching out for any missteps and a job that required you to be on your A game - it all sounded a bit like a bonkers netflix plot, but no this was your life now. You were desperately trying to hide your little (massive) König crush, while trying to get through your days and it was going horribly. The universe was working against you.
König kept appearing for one. Now that he knew you weren’t talking to him just to fuck with him, you’d been meeting more and more and talking for longer each time. In fact, you’d come to learn a lot about the man in the short amount of time you’d spent together and unfortunately for you, nothing about any of it turned you off. In fact, you were only falling harder for him.
Every touch, every grazed hand when you were reaching for mugs and brushed sides when you sat together on the couch - they were driving you crazy. Not to mention catching little details about him here and there, painting a mental picture that rivalled the mona lisa.
You’d caught a glimpse of a scar that snaked up from his lip and a few that marred his hands and arms, you’d noted bruises that carried back from missions and most of all you couldn’t help but think of the little birthmark on his left hip that he’d exposed when he’d been reaching for tea. You thought about running your fingers along them often, kissing them all better.
You’d learned that it was pretty much pointless to make movie references to König because he barely took time to watch them. He was much more of a doer, he didn’t like to sit still for long and most film runtimes were over an hour and a half, which was no good for him. And so you’d slowly gotten a peek into his more active hobbies. Hiking, rock climbing and skiing, only to name a few. The man was an athlete that rivalled most of the soldiers you knew.
“And this was the view from top!” he’d proudly said after he showed you another picture from one of his hikes.
“Woah, no wonder your legs are like tree trunks,” you’d murmured, raking your eyes over his thick thighs.
“What was that?”
“Oh! Just- you must get a good workout climbing all those hills.”
Just one of the many times you’d let your appreciation for him slip. You could barely help it most of the time, he had your words fizzling out like some kind of mentos and coke explosion. The highly trained soldier in you died the minute you were in a room with him.
It was when he grabbed you that you finally went stupid for him. König was - as Captain Price had described him - a mammoth in many regards. You’d already taken note of his verging on monstrous height, but you’d come to learn a lot more about his strength. He could lift you like you were little more than a lap dog.
How had you come to find this out? Well -
“Watch out!”
Your head had been completely in the clouds, busy catching up with messages from your family, when suddenly you were in the air. You gasped as you felt a pair of hulking arms pick you like an apple from a low hanging branch and squeaked when you looked down and came to notice the pile of vomit that lurked below your flailing feet. Gross.
Then you’d come to the slow realisation of exactly whose arms were wrapped around you. Suddenly the rising feeling of nausea was replaced by hordes of stirred up butterflies.
“Are you ok?”
You blinked, still shocked that König was holding you like you were nothing.
“Uh- ah- yeah! Yup! All good, big guy!”
You’d hurried out your reply, sputtering out your words like a leaky tap. You felt like an idiot. Then the feeling intensified when he put you down and turned you to face him. In fact, you felt like someone had placed a heat pad to your face after running a marathon.
If he could lift you that easy when you were limp, imagine how easy he could lift you up against the wall and-
“Are you sure you’re ok? You look…not so good?.”
You gulped and offered him what you hoped was a reassuring smile and then - to make matters worse - a double thumbs up (who did that???). You silently cursed in your mind, but covered up your embarrassment by staring back at the sick pile for a second and then facing König again.
“Ew…thanks for saving me from that! I would’ve been throwing up as well if I’d had to clean that outta my shoes.”
“Any time, friend!”
Friend.
It stung a little, but then you had to remind yourself you were both supposed to be acting professionally, this was a base afterall, and quickly righted yourself. Friend would do fine in a setting where Price would have your head for even looking at König a little flirtily. Especially when the resident gossips had continued to grass you in for any interactions they caught.
-☠️-
“That was some amount of whitey those new recruits left all over the hallways yesterday,” Soap had remarked after finishing a set of pull ups.
You hummed in agreement, remembering back to being lifted and growing quiet as you thought about Königs bulging arms. It had been a recurring thought for the whole twenty two hours since it had happened. Not that you were counting or anything, especially not being obsessive by any means. It was just that the electricity that had been sparked by that touch had been racing around your body and now you were stuck replaying the scene over and over in your head like an accursed rerun.
“English, Soap,” Ghost grunted, from a nearby bench.
“There was a lot of puke all over the place yesterday,” Soap sighed, rolling his eyes at the Lieutenant.
“Oh yeah, I heard about that. Did you hear sneaky almost stepped in it?”
“Ooft, that’d be a shite shift cleaning that off.”
“I know. Luckily little sneak got airlifted to safety,” Ghost said slyly, giving you a pointed look. “Got snatched away by a certain giant before they stepped right in it.”
You froze in your spot, just about to curl a weight upwards before letting it crash out of your hands and onto the floor. That fucking, no good old dear prick! How had he heard about that? You hadn’t thought anyone else had been around when it had happened.
“Careful, sneak. The German’s not here to stop that from stubbing your toe,” Ghost chuckled.
“He’s Austrian actually…And how did you know about that?”
“Oooh! Austrian,” Soap snickered.
“Well I do apologise. You should know by now that I hear about everything when it comes to our unit, sweetheart.”
You hated that. Whenever Ghost patronisingly called you sweetheart it made your blood boil and clouded your thoughts like a thick red mist. Though, there was nothing you could do about it. He wasn’t someone you could wage revenge on without being thoroughly outgunned in all respects. Plus, it would only make you look more guilty.
“Well, you didn’t even know what nationality König was so you don’t know everything,” you muttered.
“Well, now that you’ve filled me in, I can go tell Price you were getting lifted up by the big Austrian cunt that he told you to stay away from,” he countered smugly.
“What! I can’t help who snatches me out of the air from nowhere,” you hissed. “Have you seen the size of him? I can’t exactly stop him.”
He tisked.
“Well then, soldier. Sounds like you need more training. C’mere, we’ll practise getting out of holds!”
You yelped as Ghost had come crashing toward you and dove out of the way just in time to miss his outstretched arms. Even if he was smaller than your new companion, Ghost was still built like a tank - and he would pin you down like a mouse under the wheel of a 4x4 if he caught you.
“Stay away from me!” you’d squealed, running away from the gym.
“Oh now you’re suddenly averse to getting grabbed!”
-☠️-
Essentially, you were discovering a new level of hell every day. Your entire unit had cottoned on to your little thing with König and now there was no escape from the jokes they made. Well that is until Price came along and no one was quite enough of an asshole to mention your activities to him. You all knew the consequences of getting his back up and it wasn’t worth the stress for anyone.
Though, not everyone was aware of that - König himself for one. Unluckily for you, you’d found yourself in the kitchen with Price and Soap and just as the kettle was put to the boil, who should walk in but the Austrian giant himself.
“Evening,” he murmured, barely loud enough to be heard over the kettle.
Soap looked up from his phone as he noticed König and widened his eyes before searching you out and giving you a sly smile. Oh lord. You knew he was going to love watching you squirm.
Suddenly your heart was thudding like a samba drum and your mind was racing to find your self restraint. Don’t let Price see you turn into a nervous fucking wreck! You repeated that over and over like a mantra, turning it over in the sands of your mind as if you might find some calm that way.
“Evenin’” you smiled, feeling your voice lilt.
Oh god.
You smiled at König as he approached the counter and promptly scampered away to the table, hoping that by keeping some distance you wouldn’t be so transparent. Fat chance considering the stupid smirk that was all over Soap’s face as he pretended to batter his eye lashes behind Price’s back. Asshole!
You knew you looked guilty as hell, even if you were walking away from König. However, any chance of not being caught ogling by Price was worth taking. So you figured you’d stare at your phone instead and prayed to all the gods you knew of that König was busy and he’d have to leave again after getting himself something to drink.
Why didn’t he ever go out for food? There was a perfectly nice pub just over the road and he could easily go there instead of looking over you all the time - putting you in grievous danger of toilet duty. You’d have to tell him about it sometime, and hope that he’d ask to go with you.
“Anyone else want a brew?” Price offered, in the midst of pouring his own cup.
You looked up from your phone screen, darting your eyes over to the captain. Answer him! Speak normally!
“Oh! Yes, me please.”
Maybe that was a little more polite and nicey-nice than usual, but at least you were coherent. That was something, a small victory.
“Coffee for me, Price,” Soap grinned.
You breathed out a small sigh now that Price was distracted by Soap and let your eyes wander over to König, resting your chin in your hand. He was so big, he towered over the two other men by a few heads at least. He could pin you down like a lion and there’d be nothing you could do about it, nothing you’d want to do about it.
“That’s the wrong one.”
You jumped as König’s accented voice interrupted the thankful silence and widened your eyes as you watched him turn to Price. What was he doing? You sucked in a breath and watched as the two men became locked into an exchange and silently hoped a rogue sniper might take you out.
“Sorry, what was that?” Price asked, frowning deeply as he stared at the masked man.
“That’s the wrong tea,” König supplied helpfully. “Sneaky likes this one.”
As if correcting Price on his choice of tea wasn’t enough, König went to the lengths of picking a bag of your herbal stuff out. He dropped it into the mug and stuck the other bag back in the back, tilting his head as Price stared at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Well then…thanks for the advice,” he finally said, turning to stare you down. “It’s never nice when you expect one thing and get the other.”
You were in deep shit.
He was giving you the ‘I’ve killed before and I’ll do it again’ look. You gulped and slumped in your chair, feeling like a tiny child that was about to get reprimanded. Price was going to learn all about your involvement with König soon, the game was up.
“Oh yeah, no problem!” König said, sounding like he was smiling under his mask.
That idiot!
Though, in fairness to him he knew nothing about the toilet duty thing. He didn’t even have any idea that you weren’t supposed to be interacting with him, especially when you’d gone so out of your way to do it over the past month. It wasn’t his fault, but at the same time you could strangle his beautiful massive neck for what he’d done.
“Sneak, would you mind coming with me for a moment? I think we should have a little chat,” Price smiled. “I’ll bring your tea.”
He was probably omitting that he was going to dump it over your stupid head, you thought worriedly. This wasn’t good at all.
You gulped and nodded at him, slinking out of your chair like a dog about to take a beating. Though, you continued to follow behind him just as dutifully - Ignoring Soap as he gave you a little wave off and a snarky smile. You knew as soon as you’d left that he was messaging the group chat right then, and the whole 141 would know that you were getting pulled up for speaking to König.
He lead you down the hall and into an empty meeting room, setting the two mugs down on the table, they hit the wood like death knells, and pointed to the chair in front of him. It all felt very formal, like this was going to be one of the worst telling offs of your life.
“Don’t look so scared, kid.”
You bit your tongue and chanced a look in his eyes, seeing the glint that lingered within them. He didn’t look furious, but he didn’t look like he was going to offer you a cuddle and kind words either. It made you sweat a little less, but you weren’t dumb enough to completely untense your body yet.
“Y-you’re not annoyed that I’ve been speaking to König?” You asked, chancing your luck.
“Oh, I’m annoyed, but I’m not going to kill you for it,” he laughed humorlessly, leaning back in his chair. “You look like you’re going to shit yourself.”
“I think I might,” you said, biting your lip and fastening your shaky hands around your warm tea cup.
“See, that’s why I’m concerned about this…relationship you’re building with König. I worry about you.”
You frowned, thoroughly surprised by his reaction. He was being a damn sight more sympathetic than you were expecting. This wasn’t a bollocking, this was an intervention.
“You don’t have to worry. We’re just friends - strictly platonic! We talk and have tea together, nothing more than that,” you explain breathily, hoping it’ll appease the captain.
He strokes a hand through his beard and eyes you warily. He’s clearly unconvinced. His jaw is set into a worried line.
“Hmm.”
He doesn’t give much away.
“Really, I’m not trying to take things f-further.”
You stutter like a liar. Really, that is what you’re doing if you’re honest with yourself. You might not be asking König out on dates and braiding flowers into his gear, but you have been shamelessly flirting with him and getting into close proximity with him at the slightest chance. Plus, Price practically knows you better than your own parents, he’d be able to tell when you were acting differently, like you were in terminal stages of puppy love.
“Look, he’s not part of our unit, so really it’s none of my business, I can’t actually do anything about it - as much as I’d like to,” he says, glowering for a moment. “I just think that he’s dangerous and I don’t like the thought of you getting close to him. For all I know, he’s nice enough to you, but when he’s on the field that man’s an animal. There’s something wrong with him.”
You gasp a little as he says it, shocked that he’d say something like that to you. What did he mean there was something wrong with König? Sure, you thought, he was quiet and intimidating but he was so polite and cheerful when you’d gotten to know him more. It’s not like most people were their best selves on a battlefield - it was in your training to leave all that behind. It was hypocritical to judge Königs actions given your experience with the 141 out on missions.
“What do you mean there’s something wrong with him?” You finally asked, curious to know just what Price meant.
“He takes too much pleasure in the work he does. He’s sick when he’s out there- like letting a rabid dog out of its cage. I worry about you getting involved with him and being at the mercy of a man like that. You wouldn’t have any chance against him, Sneak. I’ve seen him crush bones like they’re twigs, he’d snap you like a toothpick.”
You can feel your pulse in your ears, can hear it working away like a jackhammer. You don’t know how to respond. The fact that Price is this worried for you really does concern you, but on the other hand König has never given you any reason to be scared of him beyond that first encounter you’d had with him. Then again, you reasoned that that surely wasn’t the real him - that was guarded walled up version of him. Right?
“I see,” you sighed, not able to come out with more.
“I know you won’t want to take my word for it, and you’re going to keep doing whatever it is you're actually doing. I just want to know that you’ve been warned and you’re going to be careful.”
You took a breath and looked away, roving your eyes over the assortment of chairs on the other side of the room. Sure, you could take his warning on. Though, it didn’t feel like it was going to stick, not when you thought back to his arms wrapped around you and making you feel like a precious gem.
“I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind,” you acquiesced.
“Good soldier,” Price smiled, leaning over and patting your shoulder.
You swallowed thickly and stood up, feeling your breathing return back to normal. Well that was it then. You weren’t going to be killed on sight and you didn’t have to worry about staring down the bowl of a toilet for the rest of your miserable life.
You both stepped out the doorway and into the light of the hall. You felt dizzy on your feet, but relieved that you were getting away without any punishment. Well, other than the fact that König might be someone to worry about rattling around in the back of your mind, that is. Then again, you had a sneaking suspicion that you’d forget all about it as soon as you were in his company again…
“Remember what I said, Sneaky! Otherwise I’ll let you think about it some more while you’re on your knees scrubbing toilets,” Price said over his shoulder, taking an indulgent sip of his coffee afterwards.
You stopped in your tracks and shared a look with Soap, who’d poked his head out of the kitchen to check on you. Well, maybe you weren’t going to completely forget Price’s warning. His lingering threat would keep you on your toes.
-☠️-
“It seems a little late for you to be out walking,” you noted.
You watched as König whirled around, and went wide eyed when he looked like he might hit you. His fist was drawn back and just when it looked like he was about to swing it - he stopped and let it fall flatly to his side. As soon as he’d scanned his eyes over your shrinking form he went limp immediately.
“Scheiße! Where the hell did you come from?” he cursed.
You took a moment to recover but eventually found your heartbeat returning to its regular rhythm and swallowed, relaxing your shoulders soon after. That was close. You assumed he’d have known you were sitting there on the wall, he always seemed to have a hyper awareness of you as if he was some kind of bat. Though his echolocation must have failed for once, you’d been too obscured by the untrimmed tree branches that had surrounded you, most likely.
“I-I come out and sit here sometimes, its nice to look at the stars.”
König regarded the wall you were sitting on, just a low down thing made of worn stone and his head followed where it stretched down the road. It cut off the pavement from the small scatty park inside. Then when he looked back at you with his twinkling azure eyes, those eyes that had you forgetting all about the near miss that just happened, you finally got to take him in properly. You watched him as he settled next to you on your makeshift seat.
Two things struck you all at once. Firstly, König was wearing a neck warmer instead of his usual sniper hood, probably so he wouldn’t scare any civilians more than a hulking giant like himself normally would, it was drawn way up to the bridge of his nose, but nevertheless you knew it was him under there. And next - the mess of shaggy dirty-blonde hair on top of his head. You had to fight the urge not to ask if you could run your hands through it. It was like putting a moth in front of a thousand watt bulb. You ached to feel the fuzz of his faded sides and get to rearrange the chaotic locks above that sprawled in every direction.
“You’re staring.”
You bit your lip as he said it, and looked away guiltily. Oh fuck. It’s not like it could be helped though, this was the most you’d gotten to see of him. He was always so covered up and burdened by gear you could barely make out the man from the material - and now you were getting to see what was basically a visual buffet of König. It wasn’t fair. You could look at every inch of him that he’d let you see all day.
“Sorry,” you finally breathed out. “I just- uh was surprised is all.”
“Why?” he smirked, eyes crinkling as he stared right back.
“Didn’t think you’d be blonde,” you say, thinking blessedly quickly.
“What is it they say? Blondes have more fun?” he chuckled, coming to sit on the wall next to you.
You snorted and looked away from him again. Even though you’d been talking for a while now, his silly humour could still surprise you, especially when you recalled the way everyone acted around him, as if he’d bite them if they got too close. It was like getting to see a tiger roll onto his stomach when no one else was around.
“How come you don’t wear that around the base?” you asked, tilting your head at him.
“Why would I? I can wear my hood there without getting questioned about it.”
“But isn’t it less stuffy with the neck warmer?” You ask, crinkling your nose at the thought of being trapped under that heavy material all day.
“Yes, but it’s as though I can physically feel people's eyes cutting into me when I wear this - or nothing. The staring is too much.”
You pause for a second and laugh at yourself, feeling a little more embarrassed.
“...Like I was just doing to you there.”
König laughs a little with you, but after a second he shakes his head and breaths out into the frigid night air. The skies had been dark for a little while by that point and the light of the moon was bright and shiny, reflecting in König’s eyes like a gleaming pearl. It was probably the first time you ever recalled admiring the moon that much.
“I didn't feel like I was being dissected by you, no.”
You felt a little tingle run rogue down your arm. So he didn’t mind you looking at him? You smiled a little wider to yourself and tried to conceal it with a scratch of your cheek.
“Really? Why’s that?” You asked, feeling a little brave.
“You stare at me all the time, I’m used to it.”
Instantly it felt as if the air had caught fire and was charring you into oblivion. He’d caught you? Why hadn’t he said anything before? You opened your mouth ready to come up with some kind of silly excuse, too flustered to think of something good. Though he interrupts you before you can get a sound out.
“I didn't mean to embarrass you, I find it endearing,” he soothed.
“What? Why?” you ask dumbly.
“The way you look - with your wide doe eyes…” he says trailing off.
Now he cant look at you. His head turns away. You can't speak either, so you're both left frozen in place.
“The way you’re looking at me now,” he finally says.
“Maybe I just can’t stop staring at your messy hair,” you chuckle, trying to awkwardly change the subject. “Someone should fix that for you.”
“Does someone want to?” he asks, his brows setting as he tilts his chin.
Oh no. You bite your lip feeling like your body’s going to astrally project onto another planet. Was this really happening? Did he actually just give you permission to touch him, no, run your hands through his hair?
Part of you wants to laugh him off and prevent any embarrassment when he turns around and says he was kidding, says you’re a weirdo for wanting to touch him like that. Your mind starts going down avenues of all the awful things he could say about the little freak that looks at him too much, but then the sane part of your mind kicks and acts as a buffer stop, halting the run away anxiety train. König would never do that to you.
You were far too used to dealing with Ghost and Soap, and all of their stupid teasing. But even then, not even they would do something so cruel.
“I do,” you murmur.
König nods and leans forward and closes his eyes, giving you what little advantage he can with the amount of height he has on you. At first, you’re incredulous that you’re in a real life scenario and not locked into a fantasy seven layers deep, but you quickly give up that idea and decide to tentatively reach out. You’re too excited not to take the opportunity.
Your hand shakes a little at first as you make contact with his soft hair, and immediately you think of the devil dog your neighbour used to have when you were a kid. It was a huge old thing that barked like a foghorn, but once it got to know you, it would roll over and present its downy fur and you could spend hours at a time running your hands through it. Now, though, it’s not the scary shepherd you’re taming, it’s König.
He sits perfectly still while you sort through all the strands, smoothing them back and fixing them into place. You swear you can hear soft groans coming from him, but they’re so quiet you could be mistaken. That, and you’re too mesmerised by the task at hand, forming his hood mussed hair into a style.
When you’re done and his hair is mostly settled - apart from a small cow lick you can’t seem to fix - you can’t help but run your fingers over the fuzz on the side of his head. Immediately he shivers like a harsh breeze has rolled in, surprising you, but when he snaps his eyes open they don’t look annoyed like you worry he is, instead he looks ready to pin you down and take you right there against the wall.
“That felt very nice,” he said softly, blown out pupils shifting away from you as he straightened.
You’re not sure what to say, you just smile and bite your lip, keeping your eyes fixed on him. You know rightly that your pupils are just as wide as his, you can practically feel the explosion that’s going on. You want him.
“König I… I uh-“
Footsteps sounding from nearby, crunching up the leaf littered pavement, interrupt all your thoughts and both of you turn your heads as someone walks up to you both. You hold in a breath, feeling like you’d scream otherwise and watch as a face comes into view from out of the shadows.
Mercifully it’s not Ghost or Soap that marches up to you, it’s Gaz.He’d been the only one not to completely batter the dead ‘Sneaky and König up a tree’ horse. He stops when he sees you both and his eyes widen as he spots König, probably just as shocked as you were when he realised he can see his face. Though, he quickly averts his eyes and looks at you instead, awkwardly shifting his hands in his hoodie pocket.
“Captain said to tell you we’ve got an early start tomorrow,” he says looking at you pointedly , “we’ve got a briefing at four. Said you best get all the sleep you can.”
“Oh…do you know anything about it?” You ask, still feeling a bit breathless from before.
“From what I gather, the 141 and KorTac are heading out together, but I don’t know much beyond that,” he shrugs.
You give a sideways glance to König and watch as he regards you the same way. That meant you’d be working together for the first time. You take a breath and look back at Gaz, finally nodding your head.
“Thanks for coming to let me know, I’ll head in in a minute,” you assure him.
Gaz nods back curtly and turns on his heel, retreating to the base again and leaving you alone in the only silence. You finally look back at König, only once you’re sure there’s no one lurking around and looking to catch you with him, and smile softly.
“Looks like we’ll be working together then,” you laugh awkwardly.
“Seems like it,” he replies, lowering his head. “Perhaps we should listen to the captain’s advice and head in.”
You feel a stab of disappointment tear through your heart immediately. You’d wanted to resume things from where you’d left off. You wanted to pull back the cloth from his face and kiss him under the stars as if they were watching and you were the only ones there. There were fireworks and sparklers going off in your mind, but now they were being snuffed out as you watched König stand up from your not so secret spot.
“Come on, you need your rest,” he insists, holding out his hand.
You raise your eyebrows, but put your hand in his and rise as he guides you up. Even with you standing, he towers above you. It’s especially noticeable as you stand so close to him, almost pressed to his big wide chest. There’s a snapping creature in your mind that distantly wishes to jump onto him and kiss him, but you beat the thought back and look away from König instead.
“Hey,” he says softly, tilting your head back with his rough gloved fingers. “I want to pick things back up too, but…not before a mission. We can do this again after all that. Yeah?”
You gulp, feeling your spine light on fire with tingles. Did he just acknowledge that things were about to go further there? So he definitely felt the same as you…
“Makes sense,” you murmur, feeling your desperation roll off you in waves.
He is speaking sense, but you don’t want him to be.
“You can fix my hair for me again when we get back,” he teases, rubbing his finger against your jaw again. “I’m sure it will be very messy.”
“Am I your stylist now?” You smirk, feeling your mood lift.
“Amongst other things,” he says, eyes showing the smile that was surely on his lips.
You raise your eyebrows and just as you’re about to ask what things, he silences you with what he does next. He leans down and brings his lips to your cheek, and through his mask, kisses you.
You freeze in place, your heart thudding like it’ll explode and close your eyes. You can’t believe what just happened. You laugh a little to yourself - letting loose a giggle and open your eyes, watching as he smiles back at you and gestures his hand back to base.
“To be continued,” you whisper to yourself.
-☠-
Next Part Here
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Imagine Ak Jason that's been with his s/o for a long while and they're comfortable having sex and all and he makes them squirt. How's the man reacting? I gotta know!
I GOTCHU ANON I GOT YOUUUUUUUUUU🫡🫡
Ak!Jason Todd n’ Squirting ((NSFW, EXPLICIT/DETAILED))
reader has coochie but no gender terms used :p
unless doll is gendered to you
‘tis under the cut >:]
TOTALLY AN EGO BOOSTER 4 HIM !!
He likes knowing he’s fucking you good and how good hes doing so🤤🤤
and he totally didn’t google “how to squirt” to get this to happen
IM LAUGHISNF SO HARD—
—LISTEN HE KNOWS THERES GOTTA BE SOME SCIENCE BEHIND IT.
he skimmed like the first page of articles (he read every fuckin link.) before clicking off bc he felt kinda cringe and acted like nothing happened
HE DEF GOT ALL THAT SHIT MEMORIZED THOUGH.
but he’s also smart enough to that majority of it is communication and it doesn’t mean hes doing bad if you cant squirt
but he really wanted to make you squirt. *picture cut to him grabbing his chest while curled up in a ball on the floor*
JASON’S body was pressed onto yours almost fully, grinding his dick into your pussy. The wet coarse noises of your twos hips pressing into each other, and the lewd noises leaving your mouth filled the room. One of his hands intertwined with your own, the other rubbing at your clit. He placed a pillow under your ass so he could push your cock at all the right places. His pelvis grinding into your pussy, dick angled at your g-spot cushioning out your steady moans. Jasons face was buried between your neck softly breathing as he used his whole body to rhythmically pace himself against you. Taking in all of you, your soft sticky skin pressed against his own, every inhale and exhale of your chest, the way your hips randomly bucked up as he pushed against you. Those moans. He closed his eyes, letting his body passionately feel you out, running orgasm after orgasm out of you. You’re breathing sharpened and you threw your head back. You start grinding your wet pussy into him, letting your other hand trail up to his hair softly kneading his black hair locs. He involuntarily let off a deep “mmh…” He sped up his movements, rutting his hips a bit faster then yours. Jason just barely pulled out and pushed in, his cock still at your g-spot before grinding back down on your wet cunt. Stuttering your breaths, you let out a soft”Fuck,,, fuck,,, fuck….” before being able to whine out how you wanted his hand, playing with your clit to move faster. He started rubbing fast circular motions across your cunt, obscene noises of your soaking cunt got louder. He started pumping his cock against your g-spot, letting go of your hand to prop your legs up for him before intertwining your fingers once more. He pulled his face from your neck to watch your cunt come undone, letting out heavy breaths along your chest. Your mind had started going foggy, only being able to feel his body against yours and the sticky sensation between your legs, you inhaled and before a sudden hit of tranquil hit your body. Exhaling, your hips relaxing as you felt the heat of a intense orgasm hit you. Jason watched as squirts of hot liquid sloppily bounced against his happy trail. He had no problem physically staying quiet but mentally he was holding on by a thread. Continuously fucking you through your pleasure, before slowing down and looking back up at your relaxed body.
“You got another one of those in you doll?” he said through hot breaths peering up at you with those big pretty blown out blue eyes.
oh yeah, that egos peaking tonight.
This was fun writign hejshehhdhehee
COULDNT HELP MYSELF I KNOW HES GOOGLED IT BEFORE!! I KNOW ITTT!! *IM BEING DRAGGED OUT OF THE ROOM WHILE YELLING*
ILL DIE ON THIS HILL JASON WOULDNT BE DIRTY TALKER TILL LATER IN THE RELATIONSHIP!! (m gonna make a list of shit he’d say dw yall dw..)
he so proud of himself though
inbox is open if yall want more !!
#jason todd x reader#arkham knight x reader#arkham knight smut#jason todd smut#jason todd#jason peter todd#arkham knight#skullkidwithsunglasses#red hood x reader#red hood#red hood smut
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“Princess, can I ask you something?” He speaks, breaking the silence of the long, uneventful car ride. “Sure, anything!” You chirp, unsuspecting of what is to come.
“Why don’t you ever let me do anything for you?” Ushijima says, his eyes remain fixated on the long stretch of roads ahead. The fog heavily roll down the sides the hills on your either sides, lowering visibility. His hand tightens around the wheel, while the other grips yours.
“What do you mean by that?” You sit back, eyes wandering his features, looking for any sign that he’s just cheerfully asking you. Knowing Ushi though, he’s sometimes not as light hearted as you’d think.
“You are always so insistent on doing everything yourself. You won’t let me help you, like earlier, when you refused to let me tie your shoes. That isn’t the first time you refused my help.” He goes on a spiel, his thumb reaches to the toggle and lowers the volume, making his breathing more prominent than ever. It has occur to you that you have always been doing everything by yourself despite his looming figure always by your side. The hyperindependence is slowly starting to bother him. He wants to help you, wants to give you the fullest extent of a princess treatment yet the only thing really holding him back from that is, you.
“It’s just something that I could easily have done for myself, you didn’t need to bother with that, don’t worry, baby,” you try to comfort him, hoping some words of affirmation can help. It really isn’t a big deal, it’s some shoe laces that came undone, not a heavy errand.
As soon as the car is pulled into a parking spot at a rest stop, quickly shifting the car in “park”, turning to you and he sighs. A real sigh. One so full of frustration and… hopelessness. “I’m not bothered. It has never mattered how big or small anything is, I want to do everything for you. Why are you holding yourself back from me?” He is starting to put things into perspective for you. After going through a useless ex-boyfriend, then a man who gave you hot and cold attention, lastly a guy who gave you princess treatment to fill his inflated ego before meeting Ushijima, learning to only rely on yourself has been the protector of your heart, your soul and your sanity. You find that by depending on your good ol’ self is the only way to prevent yourself from throwing your body off a bridge.
“Ushi, it’s not—,” before you can finish your sentence, truthfully you don’t really know what to say. He’s right, you are holding yourself back from him. Holding yourself back from the hurt that you’ve known all too well, he interrupts, holding both your hands in his, “baby, you’re my priority, my everything, your well-being, happiness and comfort are my main concerns and I want it to be that way,” he stops, taking a breath. Reminiscent of the times where Ushijima offered to go so out of his way to help you but being kindly turned down has left him feeling absolutely useless and uneasy. Ushijima’s love language is act of service and because he hasn’t been able to do the bare minimum for you, he feels it eating him alive.
“I am aware of your past, I know that I can’t change what was, but I’m here to make a difference now, I mean it!” You are moved by his words, he means what he says and you know it. You’ve seen it. He’s a big man of his words, always keeping promises, has never ever disappointed you in any way. Yet the walls have been reinforced many times again that it has cemented itself in your life, creating a barrier between the two of you. “I want to open doors for you, pull out chairs for you, pick you up from a friend’s house, drop you off at the airport, all of that, please, baby, please just let me.” You have to say, it is like he is begging for you to allow him in, allow him to integrate further into your system, a system you’ve built to keep you from going down a slippery slope time and time again.
“I’m so grateful for you, Ushi, you’ve done so much for me, you really have. I just feel like I can’t be asking for anymore than what you’ve already given me,” before you can inhale a full breath, he branches his body over to your side of the car and kisses you deeply, so deeply that you melt. “I’m at your disposal, you are my world, let me in, don’t keep shutting me out,” he says, breaking away from the kiss.
You chuckle, “yes, Wakatoshi, I accept your offer,” and you’ve never seen him smile wider. A big, toothy grin coming from the infamously stoic dude. He kisses you again, “thank you, baby.”
He unbuckles your seatbelt, hastily running from his side to yours and opening the door for you, and just like the universe is rooting for the both of you, your shoe laces come undone, again.
#haikyu fluff#hehe I wrote this in 20 minutes#haikyu imagines#ushijima x you#ushijima x reader#haikyu ushijima#ushijima imagine#ushijima imagines#ushijima fluff#ushjima wakatoshi#haikyuu ushiwaka#hq drabbles#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyu headcanons#⌑ 5 LL series ⌑
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