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verstappen-cult · 3 months

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CHASING HEARTS | MV1 & CL16

summary: you’ve been friends with max and charles for quite a while now, but as much as you’ve tried you just can’t keep denying your true feelings anymore. so, what happens when they came knocking on your door demanding an explanation?

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader x charles leclerc. content warnings: hurt/comfort, poly relationship.

“she said she was busy studying,” charles says as he gets out of max’s car parked right in front of your building. “i don’t think we should be here.”

max gives him an exasperated look. “and you really believe that?” when charles shrugs, max can’t help but roll his eyes. “she’s been ignoring us and giving poor excuses to not hang out with us for weeks, don’t you think it’s a little strange?”

charles, in fact, finds it strange. at first he thought nothing of it, but then max came to him ranting about how he saw you hanging out with oscar and lando, laughing about something the younger boy had said, but when he got closer, that beautiful and melodic laugh died in your throat, and you didn't look at him once.

charles just looked at max and waited patiently until the boy stopped his ranting. what came next was a conversation that was bound to happen. but when they tried to approach you they were met with a cold text saying you were too busy, while you tried very hard not to cross paths with them around university.

they just can't take it anymore. ambushing you at your own house it's probably a bad idea, but hey, they need answers.

the elevator ride to your apartment can't be fast enough, max thinks that if he has to spend another minute without knowing what happens he will most definitely go crazy.

the blonde-haired boy slams his fist against your door, anxiety and anger building inside of him. charles has to put his hand on his shoulder to try and ground him.

you open the door wrapped in a very cosy blanket, surprised to find them there. "hi?" you say, at a loss for words. you've missed them, you'd be lying if you say that having them in front of you, even if max looks angry and charles a little sad, it's not what you've been dreaming about.

"hi, sweetheart." charles gives you his signature smile, with dimples on display and everything. "can we come inside?" he asks, but max is already pushing the door open and making his way into your home.

"i can't to his anymore," it's the first thing max says, hands on hips and a frustrated expression on his face. "what is happening? i need an answer now. we need answers. you've kept us in the dark long enough."

charles knows max is hurting and trying very hard not to take it out on you, even if you're the who caused this, so, he takes a step forward.

"we've missed you, right?" the monégasque raises his eyebrows, throwing daggers at him. max sighs, shoulders dropping slightly. "we just need to know why are you ignoring us. and if after that you don't want to see us again, then... we will not force you."

that's exactly what you don't want to do and why you distanced yourself in the first place. you promise yourself you were not going to tell them the reason.

you close the door while wrapping the blanket tighter around your shoulders, as if that is going to magically make you disappear.

"i—um, it's not..." you avoid making eye contact, fearing that if you do your walls will crumb and you'll let your true feelings rise to the surface. you're in great danger already.

max makes a noncommittal grunt and mutters something under his breath.

you sigh, putting on a brave face. "i just been busy. finals are around the corner and i've been distracted," you raise your eyes to, finally, look at them and charles heart skips a beat, even if he catches your gaze for just a second.

"bullshit," max hisses through his teeth, seeing right through you. why did you thought you'd succeed in lying to them? "did we do something to upset you?"

"no! no, you didn't to anything wrong." you rub your hands over your face, exasperated.

"then why are you doing this?" charles really doesn't understand because you aren't making any sense. "we thought everything was fine.”

max inhales softly, counting to ten in his head. "i even asked lando if he knew something and he said it was not his secret to tell, so, we know something is happening."

"i can't be your friend anymore!" you feel tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"what?" both say at the same time, but you don't have the heart to look at their faces.

max runs his hands through his hair, it's a little too long again and you'd volunteer to cut it if it weren't for what's happening right now.

charles paces around the living room, alternating between looking at you and then at his feet.

"it's not that big of a deal," you shrug, walking past them into the kitchen to make some tea just to have something to do. "it's not like i'm an important part of your life."

they follow you into the kitchen because of course they can't leave it at that.

"what are you talking about?" charles sounds broken, he can't believe you'd think so little of you. and what you actually mean to him and max. "if you really think we can forget about you that easily, then you don't know me. or max." he says, tugging at max's wrist.

"you're very, very important to us. we care about you, we've been so worried—"

"i just can't, okay!?" you turn around, forgetting all about the tea. "i can't get in the way. i won't."

"in the way of what?" max sounds so confused, and when you look at charles, his expression is the same one as the boy standing next to him.

"i know you're together." you whisper, glancing fearfully between them.

"well, obviously." charles chuckles, amusement tilting his voice, but his expression still shows how confused he is. "i mean, we're not exactly subtle about it. and we spend a lot of time together, so, you would've noticed, eventually."

"that's exactly the problem!" you throw your hands in the hair, finally giving up. you can't do it anymore. "i like you." your eyes widen in fear once you hear yourself saying the words you swore to yourself you would not to say out loud.

max looks at charles, but charles keeps looking at you like you've grown a third head or something. and when neither of them says anything, you know you've fucked everything up.

"i like you, too." charles finally says, letting go of max wrist to get closer to you, but he doesn't get too far because you are moving out of the way, away from him as much as you can.

"you don't understand," you look at them with cheeks burning with embarrassment. "i like you. both of you. and not like friends should like other friends, okay? so i can't be friends with you."

max laughs, like actually laughs, throwing his head backwards and all. it makes you feel stupid and tiny in that big, stupid kitchen.

you should not have said it. you should have made something up, you should have acted like a grown ass adult and shove those feelings deep inside of you, forgetting all about wanting to be held by them, and kissed, and comforted.

stupid girl with stupid feelings—

"hey," max says, in a voice too small to be his own. "can i come a little closer?" your shoulders tighten, you really want to say no but you are nodding before your mind can catch up with it.

max walks slowly, being followed closely by charles. they don't want to scare you and have you walking away from them again.

"sometimes," max says carefully as you bite your lip trying to regulate your breathing. "these things happen. we're not actually seeking them but, as most things in life, things happen... i know how that feels, schatje." charles lifts his right hand so, so slowly, until is resting on your hip, fingers pressing into your skin ever so slightly.

"i'm so sorry, max —"

"don't apologize. you don't need to apologize for having feelings." he says and you bite your lower lip harder, tasting blood. you don't deserve his gentleness, you don't deserve charles’ caring touch, you don't deserve anything. "you didn't do anything wrong, okay?”

you open your mouth to say something, but close it again quickly when charles shakes his head.

"you still don't get it, do you?" the brown-haired boy asks, and coos at you when you tilt your head to the side. "max, she doesn't get it."

they share a knowing look, smiling playfully when his eyes are back on you again. you feel lightheaded, aware that something is happening right in front of your eyes but not understanding a single thing.

"we planned on having this conversation a little bit different," charles beings to say as max's hand finds comfort on your lower back. "max would cook something for us and we would eat, then watch and movie and, at the end of the night, we would have this conversation."

max hums, nodding along. "but you ghosted us and fucked all of our plans." the monégasque slaps his chest playfully with his free hand while you feel like you're gonna be sick.

"wha—what are you talking about?" your heart is about to be spilled out onto the floor.

"we like you, too." charles confirms, his voice rumbling through your ears.

"we didn't noticed what was happening at first," max has a small, shy smile on his face as he remembers the exact moment he had the conversation with charles, where both of them ended up crying while trying to understand what it all meant to them. "it was thanks to you ignoring us that we realized our true feelings."

"at least something good happened because of it." charles' voice is small like a child's and, for the first time in forever, you cup his cheek, his skin feeling soft and so warm. you do the same with max, getting goosebumps all over your body.

"you're not playing with me?" you need to be sure before getting your hopes up.

max's grips tightens on you. "we aren't that cruel, baby."

you want to cry. and scream, and laugh, and cry some more.

you look at each other for what feel like ages, you've missed each other so much that now that you are finally reunited, you don't want to be apart anymore.

then, the three of you start giggling like children.

"can i kiss you?" charles shyly ask, earning a snort from max beside him.

your tiny nod it's all he needs to lean in and brush his lips against yours. it's a timid kiss, tasting each other slowly. it's delicate and gentle, you feel like floating up in the air which leaves you feeling dizzy when he eventually pulls away.

max doesn't asks, he just leans and waits for you to make the first move. which you definitely do. there are butterflies in you belly and you feel so nervous that you bump your nose with his, making them both laugh. max grins into the kiss and lets you take all the control, following your lead.

their kisses leave you feeling warm all over and with a buzzing in your ears that even after an hour of making out still won’t go away.

it's stupid and it's not gonna be easy. there are so many preconceptions about poly relationships that you know people will talk. but for now you don't care about anything but the two boys glued to your sides as you cuddle together on the couch.

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theragethatisdesire · 1 year

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aot men as dads - headcanon!! some 18+!!

includes: eren, jean, reiner, & levi

i'm still working on some full-fledged one-shots and parts of my series', but i'm nannying for the summer and have BABY FEVER. please enjoy my little headcanons of my fav aot men as dads <3

DISCLAIMER: some of this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

Eren

ok but eren is such a cringe dad lol

buys himself all of the #1 Dad! merch. he’s got mugs, tshirts, hats, all of it, and all of it went on his credit card.

10000% a girl dad. loves all the little dresses and bows; he puts your daughter’s hair in its first bun, nearly tears up when she points at his matching hairstyle and babbles “like da-da!”

you have to parent eren as much as the children. when you turn the corner into the living room where he’s supposed to be having “quiet time” with your toddler only to find that they’re buried in a pillow fort and eren’s signed his own name in crayon on the wall next to your daughter’s scribblings. “babe, we can just repaint it! she’s being creative.”

loves when you’re pregnant. after your first, eren keeps a calendar on the wall marking off the days until it’s safe for him to fuck you again, fuck a baby right back into you. already has a breeding kink before your first. develops a lactation kink after.

TERRIFIED (and i mean terrified) of hurting your little angel. has absolutely zero concept of “cry it out”; if he hears his baby crying, he’s sprinting into the next room, kissing a nonexistent boo-boo.

refuses to admit it but he has no backbone when it comes to your daughter wanting literally anything. she wants it, she gets it.

favorite thing in the world is matching outfits. favorite. “babe, where’s her green hoodie? i’m wearing mine today for the park!” “of course it matters, we have to match! on that note, where’s yours?”

lets your daughter use his hair to learn how to braid. usually has a few pink hair ties or glittery clips sticking out of it when you come home from a mom’s night out.

really big on your baby getting to see the world. drags you on vacation to any place he can think of, even as you try to explain to him that she can’t form any long term memories yet. “but baby, she’ll have pictures. how many kids in her class can bring a picture of them at the eiffel tower to their first show-and-tell?”

accidentally ruins santa and the tooth fairy for your daughter. cries harder than she does over it.

aggressively vets babysitters. ends up settling for a nursing student in the labor & delivery school who’s the oldest of seven children and probably more knowledgeable about child development than both of you combined, but he’s still suspicious.

wants to watch while you push, watch his baby come into the world. you’ve never seen a sweeter sight than eren in his scrubs, crying while holding your baby girl.

Jean

most people picture eren as being the roughhousing dad, but it’s jean, and i will die on this hill.

freaks out every time he drops your first boy while throwing him around like a ragdoll, but he’ll never stop because “listen!! he’s laughing!”. when it comes to the rest of them, he’s experienced enough now to tell the difference between a real booboo and an imagined one, and he simply brushes their little pants off caringly before shouting “now you tackle me!”

jean’s got no gender preference for your first, or the rest of your little brood for that matter. he raises them exactly the same, regardless: tough.

it takes him awhile to get used to the concept of babies’ minds. you’ve walked in on him having full-blown arguments with your shrieking toddlers several times. “what’s not making sense? if you let your goldfish ‘swim’ in the toilet, it dies, simple as that.”

plays “bad cop” for you because you’re terrible at it, but he’s always having to turn around and snicker into his elbow in the middle of scolding because your babies get the same little throbbing forehead vein as you when they’re mad

wants a big family, and gets it. you practically have to drag him to get his balls snipped after your fourth, him reminding you that “it’s reversible!” the entire way there.

the newborn phase is his favorite. he’s rarely home for any longer than ten minutes without scooping your most recent addition into his arms, squishing their little cheeks and marveling at their gurgling noises.

the kids never give him anxiety, but when you’re pregnant??? jean’s a wreck.

“do your feet still hurt, love?” “what do you mean you have indigestion? that could be the baby coming!” “of course we can’t have sex, what if we poke its little head?”

definitely the dad that’s got a delivery bag and a backup bag and an emergency third backup of the backup bag in his car at all times. the first week of your third trimester, he starts watching you suspiciously for any signs of labor, even though this is your fourth together. you think you’ve got it down by now, you tell him, but he won’t listen.

always gets the kids to work together on little surprises for you. every mother’s day they wake you up with breakfast, every valentines day your dining room table is covered in handmade cards, every birthday your kitchen is coated in flour from jean and four little ones attempting to bake

SO HARD to drag him out for a date night. he wants to bring them everywhere: the fancy restaurant, the couples' get away trip

jean's that dad standing in the bar, watching the game, beer in hand, with an occupied baby carrier strapped to his chest

wants to watch during delivery, but he passed out the first go-round, so now he’s content standing up by your head, trying not to turn white as you squeeze his hand hard enough to break.

talks you into just one more on your fourth’s second birthday. “they’re all so big now. don’t you miss it, babe? my baby in your belly? c’mon…” turns out he reversed that vasectomy without telling you

Reiner

another girl dad. hardcore girl dad.

buys his little princess all number of dresses and barbies, is confused when she’s more interested in the baseballs her classmates have.

accidentally raises the most tomboyish, toughest little girl. still babies her, and she hates it.

cries more than you do on your first date night out when you leave her with your mom. forgets to order his entree at the restaurant because he’s watching the baby monitor app on his phone.

definitely the best at splitting baby duties with you. reiner’s up before you most nights when she wakes, grabbing a bottle and cooing at her lovingly even as she screams. you always try to stay awake to watch him on the baby monitor, though, heart melting as his massive arms rock the tiny bundle back to sleep.

all the neighborhood kids love him because of his size. at every cookout, reiner can’t help on the grill because he’s buried in the grass in a little army of toddlers, led by your daughter, shrieking with joy.

always taking pictures. literally always. unflattering ones when you fall asleep breastfeeding, candids at the zoo, eighteen identical pictures of the lock of hair from her first haircut clogging up his camera roll.

can’t be the bad cop. literally ever. he just can’t say no to his little princess, can’t break her precious little heart by telling her that throwing her food onto the floor is bad.

takes your daughter to mommy & me classes with him

DILF DILF DILF. all the moms in the classes swoon over him and gossip about him when he’s not there; much to your annoyance, reiner never notices, insisting that they’re his “mommy friends”.

always sporting a little bit of glitter on his face or a sticker on his back from your daughter

coming from a fatherless background, reiner nearly kills himself trying to be a constant presence in your daughter’s life (you have to remind him that he has to rest too)

never misses an open house night at school, even if it nearly gets him fired. coaches all of her sports teams. literally almost cries when she makes her first soccer goal. actually does cry when she tells you the boy sitting beside her in class called her his girlfriend. full-blown breakdown on her first day of school, so bad he has to stay home from work.

the absolute BEST through your pregnancy and delivery. always cooking your craving of the week, constant foot and back rubs, stays up all night with you for the three days before the birth when you’re just too swollen and miserable to sleep.

holds your hand through the entire delivery, gets in the doctors’ way when they’re performing checkups because “i’m her father, i need to know what’s going on”

Levi

levi never pictured himself as having children, but when your little surprise arrives, blinking up at levi with his own grey, owlish eyes, levi can’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

very easily irritated with anyone asking questions about your home life.

when his coworkers ask for your newborn’s name, levi simply says “child.” are you two trying again? “why the fuck do you need to know?”

super overprotective. your baby waves at someone in the supermarket, and levi’s leaning down to explain (in words your eight-month-old can’t yet understand) stranger danger.

totally one of those parents that goes half-crazy trying to get their child into the top-notch, snobby preschool in town.

“we’re not wasting his intelligence on the public school”

levi grew up with basically nothing, so he goes all out buying the best baby products on the market. $2,500 strollers, researching “best baby toys for development”, the whole nine yards.

100% spends months trying to get your child to make a game out of picking up his own toys after playtime, but it never works.

has a meal plan for your child to “optimize nutrition” that you have to sneak around to give your baby little chocolates and junk snacks.

“why are there pringles in his playtime bag? they have no nutritional value.”

vets anyone that comes around your child, even other children. “no more playtime with that evan kid. he’s always got a cold or something.”

he’s always been a light sleeper, but once you have your child, levi snores beside them watching kids’ cartoons on the tv like you’ve never seen him, even drooling as his head lolls, arm tucked tight around your little one.

learned everything he could about labor and delivery beforehand

you almost killed him in the delivery room as he explained each medical detail of your labor symptoms to “reassure” you. he finally got the hint when you threatened to decapitate him.

he thinks it’s shameful, but watching you be a mother turns. him. on.

wants to take you right there when he catches you breastfeeding, watches you read a bedtime story, spin your child around laughing. you’re just so naturally good at it and it makes him love you all the more, all that love going straight between his legs.

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struniolos · 6 months

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bags.

“cant you see me? i’m waiting for the right time.”

chris sturniolo x fem! reader.

synopsis: the one time chris convinces you to sleep in his room instead of nicks, and the truth comes tumbling out.

warnings: smut. minors do not interact.

the sound of chris’ mindless humming fills the air of his room, as you watch from his plush bed the way he thoroughly reads through your mid-term college paper. his hair falls over his eyes, and his legs sit apart. you could watch him like this for hours, how he just seems so calm and present- you try and capture these moments in your mind, like you could take a photograph with your eyes.

“honestly, i don’t think you should include the part about when your childhood dog died.” he speaks up, looking back at you.

you raise an eyebrow. “yeah, it’s not like it’s a core event that impacted my life which is exactly what the paper is supposed to be about.”

he quirks the corner of his lips upwards. “it’s just so depressing, you know?”

“my life is depressing.” you counter with a laugh, watching as he rolls his eyes.

“you asked for my feedback, and that’s what i’ve got. cut the dead dog story.” he says, trying to be as serious as chris sturniolo can possibly be.

you couldn’t help but smile at him, watching as he pushed his feet against the ground to sway his desk chair back and forth. his pyjama pants were definitely a sight to see, blue plaid. a secret, shameful voice in your head fantasised about how soft they would feel up against your skin. you glance down at your watch, which pulses to remind you of your sleep schedule.

“fuck, it’s 12am. i should probably head home.” you sigh, rubbing your eyes.

chris looks up as if he were a puppy. you imagined if he had dog ears they’d be perked up. “it’s too late! what if you get murdered or something on your way?”

“in my car?” you question.

he nods, wide eyed. “uh, yeah, what if someone, like, pretends to have been hit by a car then when you stop and get out boom! they stab you.”

“you sure it won’t be you? seems like you’ve had that planned for a while.” you chuckle, shaking your head. chris always had such strange theories and scenarios running around in his mind- if it was possible, you’d love to open it up and take a peak inside. a part of you wondered if you had a place in there somewhere.

he wafts you off with his hand. “you can sleep over, you know nick and matt won’t care.”

you hum in agreement, not particularly wanting to drive home at this late hour, not because of the potential murderers, but the fact that you were ready to collapse in a heap from how tired your brain was. “alright, i’ll go ask nick to pull out his spare mattress for me.”

“it’s so strange he has a spare bed for all his friends when they sleep over, like, just share a bed?” chris rambles, as he stands up and stretched his arms over his head, his stomach peaking out from under his white top. god.

“it’s not strange, it’s very thoughtful. he’s even got a spare cabinet of toiletries for when people stay over.” you point out.

“jesus christ.” chris groans, rolls his eyes.

“whatever.” you scoff, beginning to stand up off chris’ bed, dreading the thought of having to walk up two flights of stairs to get to nick’s room.

chris frowns at you, tilting his head. “you don’t have to go. why don’t you just sleep in here?”

“uh…” you try to muster up something, some dumb excuse for why you couldn’t. because i’m madly in love with you? because i won’t be able to control myself?

“so you’ll have a sleepover with nick but not me?” he grumbles, crossing his arms. “don’t make it weird. we’re just sharing a bed.”

“yes, exactly the point of why it will be weird.” you laugh.

“come on, it’ll be fun. we could watch a movie?” he suggests, a smile adorning his plump lips.

this flusters you, the thought of being so close, watching a movie together, alone, in his room. there was always someone with you, wether it be nick, matt, nate or madi. but not tonight- and that scared you.

“alright, i’ll stay for a bit but i’m not sleeping in here.” you tell him firmly, trying to lay down boundaries before you did anything stupid.

this seems to please chris enough, as he smiles and jumps onto the bed ridiculously, the weight of him bouncing the bed and making it squeak. a dark part of your mind thought about the other ways his bed would make those noises, but you shut it down immediately. once you sat down beside him, with your legs crossed, you scrolled through the netflix catalogue on his tv. you finally settle on she’s the man.

you can see chris in the corner of your eye scrunching his face up. “oh come on, really?”

“it’s a good movie!” you argue, hitting his arm playfully.

he scoffs at you. “so you’ve said about a million other movies that were all shit.”

“actually, could we not watch a movie? i’m really fucking tired.” you yawn, snuggling yourself into the duvet. you remain on top of it though, in a way of telling yourself to not get too comfortable. “i cant be bothered arguing about what to watch, anyway.”

“okay, well what did you want to do instead?” he asks, turning onto his side to face you, now. the only light in his room was that of the tv which illuminated his pale skin, his bright blue eyes glistening. it hurt just how gorgeous he was without even trying.

you shrug. “sleep?”

he nods, now rolling onto his back. you assume this means he is in agreement, but he doesn’t say anything. he just stares up at his ceiling fan, breathing slow. you watch him deep in thought, like his mind is really tinkering over something and gnawing at his insides.

“why don’t you want to sleep in here?” he suddenly says, turning his head slightly to face you.

you sigh. “because chris, it’s weird. we’re friends- we aren’t like, dating or anything. it’s not weird with nick, but with you…”

“with me what?”

your mind fogged with a cluster of everything. all of the stolen glances, the going places you knew chris would be there, always being at his beck and call because you were a ‘good friend’.

you sigh, deciding if you didn’t say anything now, you’d beat yourself up for it. “because...because i like you, chris, and i know you don’t feel the same. i know how you feel about relationships, they scare you. so it’s just easier if i set boundaries for myself and-“

“you like me?” he cuts you off mid sentence, now propping himself up on his side on his forearm.

your stomach sinks. there’s no turning back now. “yes.”

there’s a thick pause between you, and you prepare yourself for the worst. you squeeze your eyes shut, covering your face with your hands. why the fuck had you told him? you’ve ruined everything. now he will never want to hang out with you, and it’ll be awkward with nick and matt and-

“why have you never said anything?” he whispers, quieter than you’d ever heard him.

you swallow, biting your lips hard. “because i didn’t want to ruin not only our friendship but mine with nate, madi, matt, and oh god especially nick.”

chris nods slowly, like he’s really taking to what you’re saying, like he understands the weight of it and why you’d never said anything. why you’d always stayed quiet, and admired from afar. he touched his hair, mindlessly twirling a strand.

“nick never told you?” chris said softly, his eyebrows knitting into one. he looked sad, almost.

“told me what?” you whisper back, your heart now beating in your throat.

chris was never one with words, so when he leaned over and pressed his lips softly to yours, you understood this was his way of saying i like you too.

your cheeks were burning, as he cupped them in his hands. you both slowly began to roll over, with chris now hovering above you and his knee between your legs. you kissed him pathetically desperate, your body keening against his. you lips didn’t seperate once, as if you were breathing air into each other’s lungs and if you parted you’d suffocate. his hair tickles your forehead, his nose pushing into your cheek. you were waiting for yourself to wake up, that you had fallen asleep and this was only a sick part of your mind playing tricks on you. but it was real, he was real.

“fuck, i’ve wanted to do this for so long.” he whispers against you, as his hands roam down your body.

you gasp at the feeling. “you have?”

“mhm.” he murmurs, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “can i take this off?”

you nod, batting your lashes to look at him, and god, he was beautiful as ever.

“this isn’t going to ruin things between us, is it? because i’ll stop right now if it means you’ll never speak to me again.” he pleads, doe eyes looking at you wide and earnest.

“chris.” you whisper, your hand coming to hold his warm, pink cheek. “i would never not talk to you. i want this, i have wanted this.” more than you know you wanted to add, but couldn’t find the willpower.

“i want this too.”

you both assisted each other in swiftly discarding of your clothes, leaving you both only in your underwear. you felt so exposed, the fact he knew how to you felt and that your body was on display. he stroked your thigh as it came to curl around his back, his kisses travelling to your neck and collarbone. you moaned softly at the feeling, his warm lips lighting little fires within your skin. he bit at the plush flesh above your bra before removing it, his hands coming to hold and massage each mound.

you guided one of his hands down to your heat, begging with your eyes. “please.”

chris snaked his hand under your waistband, his slender fingers softly touching your folds. it was all so painfully soft, how he rubbed circles at your core while kissing you slow and deep. he shimmied your panties down, leaving them at your thigh. he dipped a finger into you, your velvet walls pulsating around him. your body begged for more, and chris listened. he was in tune with you, without having to say a word. he pushed in another finger, which elicited a deep moan from within your throat.

“that feel good?” chris murmured, his lips at your cheek.

“god, yes.” you whined, your body curling against his.

he pumped his fingers in and out of your wetness, as you clawed into his shoulders and shuddered against his bigger frame. you could feel him through his boxers, as he ground down against you. his pace increased as he felt you clench around his fingers, the sounds coming from you almost pornographic.

you moaned and cried for him, “chris! i’m almost- ah!”

your orgasm came strong like a thunderous tsunami, your legs stretching and your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your mouth hung open silently as no noise could possibly explain how euphoric you felt.

“mhm, that’s it.” he cooed, riding you through your high and praising you in your ear.

you would never be able to see him the same, never look at him platonically ever again. you knew this would ruin you. he kissed you deep, his tongue licking into your mouth.

“i want to feel you.” he moaned, grinding his constricted mound against your heat. “i want to be inside you.”

the weight of him on top of you combined with his honeyed words began to make you feel all hot and tingly again, as you pulled him incredibly close, your lips puffed and swollen.

“i want that too.” you manage, grinding up against him, the friction euphoric.

he pauses, looking down at you, his chain dangling in your face and hair flopping over his face. “are you sure?”

“mhm.” you hum, “need you.”

chris gives you one last firm kiss, before reaching down to pull his boxers to his thighs. your face flushed a deep maroon, watching as his leaking, pink tip pulsated. he rubbed himself gently, and you reached down to help him. he guided your hand up and down his length, and you felt yourself getting wetter. you shimmied your panties the rest of the way down, kicking them off your ankles. swiftly, he reached over to his bedside table drawer to grab a condom, ripping the packet with his teeth and gliding it down his shaft. you clenched your thighs with anticipation.

the brunette lined himself up with your weeping entrance, as you stroked his hair. you both watched as he slid into you, his tip disappearing into you. your jaw went slack, a pathetic moan tumbling from your plush lips. chris slumped over you once he had bottom out, his face in the crook of your neck.

“fuck, you feel so good.” he groaned, his hair tickling the nape of your neck. “can i move?”

“please.” you beg, as he lifts his head to lock eyes with you. you could no longer see the blue, they were merely bands around his blown pupils.

the first thing you felt was relief as he began to thrust in and out of you, his forearms leaning at each side of you as he held himself up. you knew it was quite vanilla, but thoroughly enjoyed being able to see his pink cheeks and open mouth as he moaned on top of you. his thrusts were passionate and deep, something you least expected from him. it felt ridiculously good, your body overcome with a warm fuzzy feeling deep from within you.

“faster.” you whimpered, holding his head with both hands, clawing into his soft dark hair.

he did as he was told. he picked your legs up, pushing them to your chest so you were folded in half. he began to snap his hips against yours, his balls slapping against your ass. he was impossibly deep, you swore you could feel him in your stomach. he grunted and groaned as he thrust, while you whimpered and clawed at his back. the noises coming from your bodies were ridiculously erotic, the wetness of your pussy and the moans escaping your throat.

“i want to hear you.” he growled, eyes dark and swirling with lust.

“ah, chris yes!” you cried, as he slammed deep within you, his hands holding the back of your thighs to keep you in place.

he quickly slipped out of you, and you almost cried at the feeling of being empty. he flipped you over so quickly you didn’t have time to register, your stomach flat against the bed and his chest flush against your back. he sunk back into you, and you pressed your head into the pillows, muffling your cries.

“oh my- fuck.” you moaned, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

his hands found purchase on the flesh of your hips, gripping it tight and using it as leverage for his relentless thrusts. his body slammed against yours, fucking you into the mattress. he reached around between you and the sheets, rubbing your sensitive bud.

“i’m close! shit!” you swore, biting your fist as he continued to slam into you, your ass bouncing against his pelvis.

“me too, ah!” he grunted, “i wanna see your face when i fill you up.”

you moaned at the thought, hoisting one leg up and twisting your core so that you turn around to look at him. he had a sheen of sweat coating his body and his lips between his teeth, while his hair fell in his face and his arms tensed as he held you down. the bed frame squeaked rapidly, thudding against the wall. there was no way nick and matt couldn’t hear you.

“fuck!” you cried, your orgasm washing over you in a thick wave. your vision was blurred, and your body froze.

the feeling of you clenching around him must’ve sent him over the edge, as chris’ hips stuttered with a cracked moan coming from his throat. he thrust into a few more times, spurting his hot liquid into you. your eyes were lidded, a dumb smile overcoming you as you watched him puff and pant. he collapsed beside you, but you made sure to face him so you could admire his post sex haze. you both lay in silence for a while, basking in each other.

“i cant believe we just did that.” chris mumbled, his finger tracing mindlessly over your face.

“me neither.” you breathe.

he thinks for a moment, pushing his hair out of his face to reveal his pink cheeks, freckles spattered over his nose. “you think matt and nick heard?”

“definitely. secrets out now.” you say, scrunching your nose.

chris laughs, reaching his arms to envelope you into him. he switched the tv off, now leaving you in the pitch black. as you lay there, caged within his arms, you couldn’t help but let somber thoughts cloud you. you wondered how things would change, what would you two become? was this a one time thing? did he really like you back or were you just another warm body?

“do you really like me too?” you whispered into the darkness, nuzzling your nose into his chest to feel his heartbeat.

“i always have. i just never know what to say in these situations. i get stuck.” he confesses, his hands running through your hair soothingly. “girls scare me.”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “who knew, huh? chris sturniolo, ladies man…is scared of girls.”

he laughs with you now, squeezing you tight. “shut up.”

you find yourself lulled to sleep by his breathing and the feeling of him pressed against you. you’d never felt so comforted, like you belonged somewhere, more than what you did in that moment.

#god i’m bad at endings!#arghhhh #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #my works #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolos #chris sturniolo x reader

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distantdarlings · 7 months

Text

INDULGE // t. nott

RATING: R / 2.8K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Reader Insert (No gender-specific details, but reader is wearing a skirt)

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* You've been working on an insane amount of schoolwork all evening and just want to lie down with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend has been doing the same but wonders if you might be interested in something else.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Body worship, oral sex, (perf. on reader), no protection used - piv, brief orgasm denial, language (also not proofread, sorry), very brief overstimulation, dom!Theo

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Sinner - Teflon Sega

---

The flame in the corner of your eye extinguished itself with a slight sizzle. You jumped slightly as it interrupted the constant silence that had stretched itself over the library.

You sighed and rubbed your fingers over your eyes, attempting to massage some of the aches. You seriously thought you would keel over if you looked at one more chart or paragraph. Your head tilted to the left and the right, feeling the pops that echoed in your ears.

The books and parchment laid out before you would just have to wait until tomorrow morning. You could barely keep your head up. You gathered everything together and slid it all into your bag, giving a polite nod to the librarian on the way out.

You glanced down at your watch, expecting it to be well after midnight—which it was. Did the librarian ever sleep? You wondered if she had some special draught to keep her awake for long periods. If she did, you needed some of it.

The halls were completely empty, as they generally were at this time of night. You’d gotten special permission from Professor Snape to stay in the library past curfew for the next weeks. You were balancing quite a few different projects and extracurriculars and, on top of all of that, had accepted a side assignment from Professor Snape, studying the side effects of the Venomous Tentacula’s venom and all that happened to the body before it eventually died from it.

It was fascinating and you felt content with your current workload, but you were just tired tonight. It was Friday, and it had been a long, long week. Right now, you just wanted to stop in with your boyfriend to see how he was doing. He should be asleep, but you know he likely wasn’t.

Finally, you arrived before the Slytherin common room, spoke the password, and slipped through the entrance. A few students remained in the common room, sketching or scanning a book, but none seemed particularly concerned when you came through.

You made for your dorm so you could set your things down and quickly change into your pajamas. The best thing about the dorm rooms at Hogwarts was the beds—no challenge. They were the most comfortable thing you’d ever laid on with silky, feather pillows, two thick comforters, and a large, form-fitted mattress you half wished to be buried on when you died. Thinking about them now had you picking up the pace.

You slipped down the long hallway, hearing the soft echo of your shoes hitting the floor with every increasingly rapid step. The books in your hands were becoming more of a burden than they initially were. You readjusted the way they were placed against you to bear your arms some rest.

Soon enough, the dorm entrance stood before you, bidding you a good evening and some sweet dreams. You pushed through the door and set your things down on the bed. Fortunately, yours was the one right next to the threshold, and you could just lay your things down as soon as you got in. You were considering not even taking a shower tonight.

You moved to the foot of the bed and grabbed your folded pajamas. It was awfully quiet in here, but you figured most of your friends were out for the weekend. It was no concern of yours; more reason to take an early night.

You slipped out of your day shoes and unfolded your pajamas, preparing to put them on. Plans, schedules, and your to-do list for the next day swirled through your head as you worked the buttons down your shirt. You figured if you knocked out all of your other assignments, you could spend the rest of the morning focusing on Snape’s project. That was probably the best plan of action…your hands allowed your shirt to slip down your arms. You grabbed your tank top and began to pull it over your head.

Warm hands suddenly became familiar with your sides. A yelp escaped you as you backed away against your bed. Standing before you was a quietly laughing Theo holding his stomach. The laughter slowly brought tears to his eyes. You crossed your arms and squinted your eyes at him. Dick.

“Theo! Why did you do that?” you scolded, smacking him across the arm. “I nearly jumped out of my skin.”

“I know, I know, it was hilarious,” he laughed, wiping his eyes with his fingertips. You didn’t smile.

“Do I look like I’m laughing, you jerk?” you asked, tapping your finger impatiently against your crossed arms.

“I’m sorry, baby, I just wanted to come see you,” he smiled, his laughter finally dying. His hands slowly slid back around your sides, massaging the skin through your tank top. The meaning behind his smile seemed to change slightly.

He leaned against the bed and bumped his nose gently against yours, causing chills to spread down your arms and legs. He leaned in closely and pressed a gentle kiss to the small center of your neck and shoulder. You tilted your head a bit to allow him easier access. He chuckled darkly and pulled away.

“But if you’re mad at me, I totally understand,” he said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I’ll just have to head back to my dorm…” He began to walk towards the door, shrugging his shoulders. You rolled your eyes at him, a smile sneaking its way onto your face. You wondered how long he would lay into this role. He did this all the time.

“Are you sure you didn’t have an important reason for coming over?” you teased.

“Nope, I’m just going to head back to my dorm…where it’s lonely…and cold…,” he sighed sadly. You tilted your head back and laughed at his award-winning acting skills before pushing yourself off the bed and walking over to him. You slid your hands around his waist, and he came to a stop, reveling in the feeling of your hands on him. You pressed yourself to his back, giving a sweetened hug from behind. His heartbeat seemed to slow as if you calmed him down.

Your hands around him traced their fingers over his stomach and traveled down to his hips. When you ghosted your fingers just below his belt, his breath hitched. You smirked at his reaction, hearing his heartbeat intensify. Your hands pulled away just as they were about to make contact with his core, you turned away and began walking back to your bed, ignoring the groan that came from him. It took him only a moment to swallow his pride and walk back over to you, catching your arm just as you were about to lay down.

He spun you against him and captured your lips with his, encasing your face between his large hands. His lips worked hastily against yours, cupping your bottom lip with his and pinching it between his teeth. You sighed into his mouth at the sudden shock of pain.

He walked you just a step back before you were both falling to the bed, never breaking away from the other. Kissing Theo was like coming up for air after being trapped underwater. His lips always moved against yours like a starved man, begging for a taste of you, never acquiring enough. His hands held you in place and his lips split you down the middle, leaving no room or need for air. He was all you needed, your only necessity. You could stay here forever, pressed against his body with no escape.

He parted from you and worked his lips down your neck. Before he continued down, he pulled the tank top from over your head and gently became acquainted with your chest. His lips pressed slowly against your skin, massaging the weight of it with his hands. His tongue skirted gently across the peak of each side, watching the way your lips parted at every swirl of the muscle. He touched you everywhere, and you always let him.

His fingers traced delicately down your ribs, sliding between them like a trap. He left nothing unkissed, untouched, unloved. His tongue worked absolute miracles over your stomach, each kiss lighting a scorching fire between your legs.

“You are so, so beautiful,” he breathed against your stomach. You sighed as his tongue traced one gentle swipe up the curve of your abdomen. Your fingers were shaking as they raised to slide into his hair, begging him to lower his head between your thighs. He hid a smirk at your desperation, loving the feeling he gave you.

Whenever your eyes would roll to the back of your head or your beautiful lips would part, he felt like royalty. If there was anything he was put on this Earth to do, he was sure it was to worship every inch of you and to pray to the sweet breadth of heaven between your legs. There was never a time he wasn’t thinking of you, thinking of fucking you, thinking of watching your every move. He wanted to bottle your every orgasm and bathe in it.

He flipped your skirt up and over your legs, not caring to take it off. You wore no tights today. All that was before him were your barren legs waiting to be parted by him. He slid his hands beneath your thighs and set them over his shoulders, adoring the weight of them against him. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the insides of your thighs, slowly working to his final destination. His thumb reached out and barely guided itself over the cover of your undergarments, already dampened. You gasped sharply. He wanted to destroy you.

“Please, baby,” you whimpered quietly. “Don’t tease.” He did not intend to.

The tips of his fingers slid beneath the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down, admiring the way your core pulsated gently beneath his gaze. Every exhale that escaped his lips sent a shudder through your body. He was close enough to smell your scent wafting all around him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he breathed in his one desire, the anticipation of the moment nearly taking him over. Beneath his belt, the core of his body ached so sweetly, begging for anything. He could not wait any longer.

He placed a soft kiss to you, feeling the way you jolted at the small touch. He kissed you once more, feeling the way your wetness collected on his lips. His tongue darted out against you, sliding between every inch of skin and against his lips, tasting every drop. You were like a dark wine tainting his tongue, shooting straight to his brain and cock. Every time he did this, his head would luxuriate in your taste and smell. Dulcet moans would leave his lips and echo against you. His hips would begin to move against the bed, rolling against the soft material. His self-indulgence in you and against himself would become too much for him. If he could never do this again, he’d find no reason to walk this Earth.

Your fingers clenched tightly in his hair and breathy, perfect moans spilled from your lips. Desperate whimpers of his name, begging for more, only urged him on more. He would never stop as long as you wouldn’t stop him. He didn’t need to eat, need to sleep, need anything other than you.

His fingers, previously holding your thighs apart so he could have full access to you, pulled between him and you. They slowly pushed through the expanse of your wetness, drawing a new kind of moan from you. Each digit circled around the folds of your skin, allowing your essence to seep between them and spill over his hands.

“Please, Theo,” you begged, your eyes making contact with his, “I need them now.”

His eyes never left yours as he pulled his hand to his face and ran a long, begging tongue up the palm of his hand. Your lips were parted in a deep, flushed moan as he slid them into you with little to no resistance. Nothing about your current condition was going to push him away. You only wanted more of him. Your head laid back against the pillow, your fingers curling tightly against his scalp once more.

His tongue found you again, matching the rhythm of his fingers. You wouldn’t last much longer, and he knew this too. Every time you came close to your end, your thighs began to shake. He knew the sight so well. As soon as the smooth skin there began to shudder, he knew you were getting close. He pulled away from you.

You nearly screamed in frustration, severely feeling the loss of him. He smirked evilly, watching you squirm against the mattress, attempting to push the tip of your climax over the edge. His hands slammed onto your hips, pushing you into the mattress. A small yelp left you at the action.

“I don’t think so, darling,” Theo whispered, his tongue skirting one more hot swipe over your core. You moaned loudly, bucking your hips against his lips. “Don’t I get anything?”

“Just shut up and do something, anything, I’m so fucking close,” you whined. He complied quickly, undoing his belt and sliding it from his pants. Your hands slid up and down your sides, trying to hold your finish where it currently rested, just on its edge.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he said lowly. Your eyes found his. His pupils were nearly blown across his whole eye with only the smallest amount of blue showing through. They were hardened and focused in on your core, watching intently as your legs slowly slid apart. The way he watched you and clenched his jaw, you felt like prey.

He knelt between your thighs, running soft fingers over the tops of them, caressing meaningless shapes. His tongue darted out over his lips and his eyes fluttered shut as he slowly slid into you. His lips parted as an angelic moan pushed from his mouth. His breathless voice slid across his swollen lips as he began to roll his hips into you.

“So good, baby,” he whispered, his hands tucked tightly beneath your ass, driving you against him. Every time he pulled out and pushed back in, he hit a new spot inside of you. The sounds of earlier were lost in the air. Nothing was able to come out of you but soft whines at every thrust. His fingertips dug into your skin, bruising the supple flesh there.

“You’re so warm, so perfect,” he breathed, his pace quickening. “You were made for me, made for this dick.” Your heart fluttered at his words. Ever the gentleman.

His hips were pushing into you so hard your whole body jolted up. Your head was inches from hitting the headboard, but you couldn't care less. The only thing you could focus on right now was the feeling of him inside you, claiming every ridge and valley as his own. Every inch of your body was branded with his name, burning wildly beneath his touch. His lips, his fingers, his everything had pulled you over in on yourself more times than you could count, yet it never got old. The only thing that made you feel truly alive was his touch.

One last shove from his hips and your finish was spilling over his hips and the sheets. Stars were flashing across your ceiling and blood was rising to your head. The letters of his name were lost on your ears and carved into the flesh of his back, bleeding beneath your fingernails. He was groaning into your neck as your entire body tightened around him, pulling him toward his own climax.

He groaned suddenly and inhaled sharply, preparing to pull out of you. His hands gripped your hips, and he began to pull away when you tightened your legs around his back and pushed him back into the hilt. The moan that left him could have shattered the stained glass. You could feel his release spilling into you, so slow and warm, and every pulse of him within you pushed a deepened moan against your chest. You released his hips and allowed him to pull back a bit before you shoved him back in one more time. A pitiful whine slipped from his lips at the bit of overstimulation.

The arms on either side of your head gave out as he collapsed against your body, his head resting against your chest. He sighed contently.

“How was that?”

He scoffed, lips pressed messily against your skin. “‘How was that?’ they ask,” he chuckles sleepily, “yeah, that was pretty good.”

“Only pretty good?” you ask, faking offense.

“That was the most perfect sex I’ve ever had, but—then again—I do say that every time we have sex,” he laughed. Just before he fell into a pleasantly deep sleep, you brushed his hair from his forehead and kissed him there, though you didn’t have much time before light snores echoed in the room.

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #reader insert #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #gender neutral reader #smut #hogwarts fanfiction

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cozage · 9 months

Note

CONGRATS ON 2K!!!!

For the request idk what I want really but I don't wanna miss out 😭

But as a dedicated Luffy simp could I get some sort of soft smut? It's fine if not but I saw your post saying something about wanting to do more of those <3

A/N: I had a very similar request for Sanji so were just going to do the monster trio for this one 🙂

Characters: reader x Luffy, Sanji, Zoro Cw: NSFW Minors pls skedaddle, orgasms, the usual sex stuff I don't think they’re too freaky Total word count: 900

Unspoken Words Finally Said

Luffy

You and Luffy had been friends from the moment you met him. At first, you thought there might be something more between the two of you.

But he was your captain. And Luffy was…Luffy. He was just overly friendly with everyone.

The celebration from Dressrosa had everyone in good spirits, and the alcohol had Luffy a little more clingy than usual. But you found yourself leaning into his touch.

And when it was just the two of you still awake, you found yourself leaning into his lips.

It was a shocking revelation for both of you, and you found yourself smiling in relief when he pushed his lips back against you.

“My room,” he mumbled into your mouth. He wrapped his arms around you and picked you up, carrying you across the deck. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

And he had no idea how long you had waited for this, either. Every stolen glance, every little smile, every brushing touch; it hadn’t been your imagination.

He proved his love and devotion the only way he knew how: through his actions. The way his hands gently caressed your body, how eager he was to finally be inside you.

He moaned out your praises, how good you felt, how pretty your moans were, and he did not give you a moment's rest until he collapsed next to you on the bed, both of you well spent.

And as you curled into him and fell asleep, you couldn’t help but be thankful for every moment that finally led you to this.

Sanji

Sanji was a flirt. His sweet comments and adoration weren’t exclusive to you. You knew that.

You were a flirt too. Your spunky attitude wasn’t something that only the cook got the pleasure in being a part of. He knew that.

And yet, the two of you went around and around, working hard to catch the other off guard and get one another flustered.

The first time you had shot back with a flirtatious remark, Sanji had almost died. But he had built up a sort of tolerance to your comments and soft touches, until one night the two of you jokingly offered up a friendly game of strip poker.

And now here he was, balls deep inside of you as tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. He felt so good inside of you, his long, slender cock hitting all of the right places.

“Sanji,” you whimpered. “I’m going to-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence, a wave of ecstasy washing over you and causing you to moan out in pure pleasure. You could feel yourself clenching around Sanji, so tight that he couldn’t even continue pumping himself inside of you.

“Marry me,” Sanji babbled. “Oh god, marry me right now.”

His hips jutted, a final push to get himself as far inside you as he could manage, and you could see his eyes roll back in his head as he was brought to the feeling of pure pleasure.

Now that you had him, you never wanted to let him go.

Zoro

You hadn’t meant to end up in Zoro’s room. Or in his bed. And you certainly hadn’t meant to end up face down, moaning into his pillow as he slammed himself inside of you.

“Zoro-” your moans were cut off as his hand pushed your head back into the pillow, trying to get the arc of your back just right as he slammed his cock inside of you.

“Shhh,” he hissed. “Someone is going to hear you.”

But his speed and vigor picked up, and you smiled to yourself knowing that he liked the idea of getting caught. He always liked to live on the edge.

After both of you finished, Zoro collapsed on top of you, trapping you underneath him. You managed to turn over so you wouldn’t suffocate into the pillow, but Zoro laid firmly on top of you, his head resting on your chest. Soft snores told you that you wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

Spending the night here wouldn’t be so bad, even if it might lead to questions later from the crew. You ran your fingers through his mossy green hair and slowly drifted off to sleep.

You and Zoro had been friends ever since you joined the crew. He was comfortable in his sexuality, and so were you, which led to a lot of fun conversations. But you had never expected this impromptu one-night stand to happen with him. It had all just been casual conversation…even if you had been a little curious.

In the morning, you carefully tried to get out of bed without waking him, but you failed miserably. He stirred the moment you moved and raised his head, groggily looking around. And then he froze when he realized you were underneath him.

“So that really happened last night, huh?” He gave a little smirk. “I thought it was a dream.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Do you dream about me, mosshead?”

He usually hated it when you called him by Sanji’s nickname, but today he only hummed in delight. “Maybe sometimes. The real thing was way better than any dream, though.”

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moonchildstyles · 4 months

Text

sin

y/n is an angel and harry is a demon whos taught her how much fun it can be to sin

wordcount: 7.8k+

—————

The first time (Y/N) floated down from the clouds, she had no idea what a Pocket was, let alone where to find one. That time felt so long ago with the way she could now navigate herself to her favorite Pocket without a second thought. The route had become one of familiarity, guiding butterflies flitting through her stomach the closer she made it with every step.

Slipping out of sight of the main street, she counted thirteen paces down the quiet alleyway before finding the brick that needed just the right touch before it would show off the hidden doorway she needed. The brick was grainy and rough under her palm, her skin catching on the mortar as she pushed against it until it finally gave away underneath. Just like that, the seemingly solid wall opened up, revealing an entryway for her eyes only.

(Y/N) felt giddy as she stepped inside, the doorway vanishing behind her when she crossed the threshold. She knew it was secure once more when there was a breeze that skated over her skin and fluffed through her wings, seemingly sealing her away from the rest of the world. In a way, it was, but there was still a waiting invitation to the one other person who knew about this Pocket—the one that had shown her the way in the first place.

Getting comfortable while she waited, (Y/N) was happy to see the place was untouched from her last visit. When she had first seen this Pocket, it was the closest thing she had ever seen to an interdimensional "bachelor pad". There hadn't been much of anything to see that first time, only the bones of someone’s presence though they were too busy to return much. She remembered it had felt stale as if it had been abandoned for years despite the unmade bed in the corner with messy sheets and tufted comforter.

Harry had told her it was a place he barely used—it was one of the first Pockets he conjured on his own, and he'd since honed the craft into bringing something more extravagant to life. He still visited just to keep the curse fresh, but he otherwise only stayed there if it was necessary and no other options were available.

His last resort had since become their hideaway. Special for just the two of them; another secret for them to share with one another.

It had come a long way from when she had first visited with Harry on her tail, leaving behind the less than ideal bed set up, and vacant walls. (Y/N) had used all of her inspiration from seeing countless humans decorate their homes, turning the dreary Pocket into a cozy getaway. Heaven didn't necessarily allow for a lot of individualism when it came to living spaces, seeing as how everything was ordained to be pristine and creamy. Here, (Y/N) got to use as much color as she wanted—as long as it didn't spur any headaches for Harry, anyway.

Now, there was an actual bed frame holding up a cushy mattress, the pillows feather soft and always cool to the touch. The bedding was a warm orangey color, playing off of the greens and pinks throughout the space. There were pictures—canvases full of paint Harry said he "found" through his travels—pinned to the walls, playing into the bright hues (Y/N) was toying with. A rug now sat in the middle of the room in the shape of a paint blob in a creamy green shade that made her think of Harry's eyes. The kitchen—though near unnecessary given their statuses—was given the same treatment as the rest of the studio-sized space. There were magnets covering the unused fridge, appliances and bowls of always fresh fruit sitting on the counter. A bouquet of flowers that never died were sitting on the bedside table, perfuming the air with a light fragrance that drew her in. Her favorite part was the mirror by the bed, ornate and carved with cherubs.

Walking in felt like a breath of fresh air. As much as she loved being an angel—guiding humans in need, taking care of those who needed her touch, changing lives for the better—being here in this Pocket was the one thing she could see herself loving more.

It would be a little bit better if she wasn't alone, though.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, fluffy wings tucked against her back, she fixed her eyes on the doorless portal, waiting for the telltale creek and scrape of concrete that would signal Harry's arrival. This was the bad part of being chronically early, she thought, never being sure when the other would show up and keep her from being lonely.

Lucky for her, it was only another handful of minutes before her ears picked up on the familiar sound of footsteps trailing over the pavement. Her breath caught when they stopped just outside where the Pocket's door was, a smile unfurling on her features when that first creek sounded through the room. She rose to her feet just in time to see the first uniform crack in the wall before the rest of the doorway came to be.

Slipping inside, Harry didn't wait for the portal to shut behind him before he was crossing the room to meet her.

"(Y/N)," he sighed, his grin toothy and completely with dimples, "Sorry I took so long."

Wrapping his arms around her, (Y/N) melted into his embrace. His hands settled just below her fluffy wings, holding her close while she rested her cheek on his chest.

"It's okay," she murmured, eyes fluttering to a close as she soaked in his warmth, "I'm happy you're here."

Harry's response came in the form of a small kiss being dropped on the top of her head, the contact decidedly delicate as opposed to his nature. He'd told her before that she was the only one that could draw that side of him out—the docile side that had no alignment with chaos or sabotage. This side of him was just for her, he'd shared.

Shifting his hands on her, his fingertips brushing her wings with a shudder shooting down (Y/N)'s spine, Harry repositioned until he had his hands cradling her cheeks as he tipped her head up to face him. His dark eyes shimmered green, taking in each of her features as if it were the first time again.

"I've missed you," he crooned, "So much, darling. What have you been up to since the last time I saw you?"

Despite there being no way for anyone, mortal or otherwise to overhear them, every word he spoke to her was uttered like a secret. Just for her.

"I missed you," she smiled, unlooping her own arms to settle with her hands on his chest, "But, I've been okay. Just doing angel stuff."

His lips quirked into a lopsided curve, his thumb brushing along the height of her cheekbone. "Always angel stuff with you. No breaks."

"No breaks," she played along as if she wasn't currently in the middle of a break with him right now, where not even her creator could spot her if she tried, "What about you?"

"Just the opposite of angel stuff," he teased, managing to bring a smile to her face despite knowing the reality of his joke. He had a certain way of putting it, describing his job, that made it not sound so bad when it came to (Y/N)'s sensibilities. (Truthfully, it could be because she just liked his voice. He could make anything sound heavenly).

"Fun?" she smiled, letting him walk her back towards the bed.

"Always," he hummed, escorting her backwards until her legs hit the edge.

Tumbling back, a bubbling laugh left (Y/N)'s lips as she clung to Harry. He fell atop her, her thighs splitting to settle him between. Underneath, the mattress conformed to the shape of her wings, Harry's hands pressing into the planes of her back as if she wasn't close enough as is.

Before the world had a chance to settle around her, Harry tipped his chin and pressed his lips to hers. Though she didn't have much to compare it to, (Y/N) had little doubt that there could ever be a better kisser out there than Harry. Her point was proven every time he sealed his mouth to hers, her top lip cradled between his two.

This was never going to get old, she knew. Not with the bubbling that ignited under her skin at the contact, the way there was nothing more she wanted than to cling to him and bask in his warmth. With every angling and tipping of their heads, movements made in tandem, she was drawn deeper and deeper in everything that was him. Tucked underneath him like this, mouth coming together and parting with soft breaths between, it was hard to think that the universe had crafted them to be enemies.

Tracing his mouth down from hers, dotting a line over her jaw, Harry murmured in her ear, "I don't have much time, darling."

"No?" she asked, a pout evident in just the single syllable, "Why not?"

Harry drew back only to give her an apologetic smile. "Opposite of angel stuff, remember?"

"Since when does that have a schedule?" She sounded petulant even to her own ears, but if there was one sin she was willing to commit, it was greed when it came to Harry.

"Since I told Sarah I would meet up with her soon," Harry offered the challenge with a raised brow. Sarah wasn't like the others of his kind, she was more stubborn and would actually go looking for him if he stood her up, if only to wreak havoc for him personally as revenge.

"To do not-angel stuff that I'll have to clean up later?" she pressed, feeling her attitude leak away now that she knew her time was limited with him.

His smile was brilliant at her words, wide with bracketing dimples. "Of course. That's why we work so well, darling."

It was that kind of language, the sweet one that made even demon activities sound silly, that had her splitting into a smile before tipping her chin in hopes of coaxing him into a kiss. It didn't take much convincing for Harry's lips to press into hers, resuming the lingering kissing he'd interrupted before.

On her back, Harry shifted his hands until he grazed the stem of her wings. The second his fingertips glanced against the base of one fluffy, tightly packed feather, a shudder wormed down her spine. Her breathing stuttered in her chest, a furrow pinching at her brow. From the way he had to keep from smiling against her mouth, she knew he was aware of the effect of his touch—undoubtedly intentional.

It was the easiest way to get her riled up, and that was exactly what he needed for their time limit.

Just as he'd surely hoped, there was a change in the pacing of their kissing. (Y/N) leaned into his touch, anticipating another lingering touch against her wings. Her hands slid over his chest, fingers denting the blocky muscles that made up his body, landing on the shelf of his shoulders. Her fingertips hooked into the solid muscle, clinging to him.

Her heartbeat stutters behind her ribs when she felt his hands shifting on her back. This time, he dared to run his fingers through the feathers, the structure underneath down was grazed by his warm touch. An involuntary moan slipped from her mouth and into his.

Instead of something smug crossing his features, Harry only kissed her harder. His mouth was hot, taking in her sudden pants from his touch.

"Harry?" she murmured, breathless against his mouth. He didn't bother drawing away from her as he hummed, the pillows of his lips dragging over hers. "Do we have enough time?"

This finally had his lips quirking. He nodded his head gently, the tip of his nose grazing her own. "I'll make time."

When she felt his hands drift away from her wings, she wanted to complain. She wanted to whine enough for him to know she didn't like that he was moving on, but that need was quieted when she felt his palm settle on the plush of her thigh. His touch was heavy and warm, denting into the soft skin while the other hooked around her waist in a cradle.

In one fluid motion, he had her on her back with her mouth dropped open in a gasp. Instinctively, she had tightened her grip on him, her legs wrapping around his waist during the roll. By the time Harry was underneath her, her surprise had morphed into laughter, her chest pressed to his as she slumped into him.

"You scared me," she bubbled, shifting in his lap with her knees bracketing his hips.

"Sorry, darling," he murmured with a soft smile, the pitch of his pupils blown wide as he took her in.

Steadying her, he settled his hand on her hips as she planted her hands on his chest to prop herself up above him. She could feel her wings fluff out behind her, no longer confined against the mattress. Harry's eyes followed the span of her feathers, the stretch reaching just slightly wider than her shoulders. He'd told her more than once how cute he thought her wings were—he'd never seen any quite as fluffy as hers, especially compared to his own.

He looked up at her with reverence in his gaze, something adoring and smothering dancing in his irises as he watched her from below. She felt warm under his eyes, her fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt to keep herself from preening like a dove under his attention.

His adoring gaze translated into his soft hands trailing over the curve of her form, his palms warming the ladder of his ribs with his thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts. Even through her dress, his touch elicited a round of gooseflesh to prickle her skin. Her breath lagged in her lungs.

Though time hadn't ever felt like much for (Y/N), seeing as she was immortal, Harry had made her impatient. It'd been a handful of days since the last time they had snuck off to their Pocket, but those days had felt like years to her body without his touch.

The trail of his gaze almost felt tangible, warm and heavy, the longer he watched her.

"What?" she asked, feeling breathless when he ran his thumbs against the swells of her chest.

He didn't bother to pull his eyes from where they lingered on her body, especially liking the way her thighs were split around his hips under the hem of her dress. "Nothing," he mumbled, shaking his head against the pillows cushioned underneath, "Jus' haven't had y'on top in a while. I like it."

She had thought before that greed was the only sin he could inspire in her, but lust was quickly overtaking the top spot. He was right; she didn't usually get a chance to look at him like this. While she loved lying underneath him, at his mercy while he drove himself home between her legs, there was something to be said about the perspective she gained while sitting astride his lap like this.

His hair laid in soft waves against the linen of this pillows, curling towards his face as if a frame for a portrait. His lashes were long and dark, framing his eyes and drawing his prey in at a glance. There was a spray of freckles glancing off the bridge of his nose, faint against the cream of his skin. Though his eyes were dark, there were shatters of green that could be seen if one were close enough to spot the hues. His body was made of strong lines and angles, his jaw, much of the same despite the soft skin of his lips and the gentle way he admired her.

He was the perfect demon—the perfect temptation. If not for the fact she knew what was hidden away, she would have argued he was an angel like her.

"I like it, too," she told him, breathless, "I like it when you look at me like that."

"Yeah?" he prodded, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth when he finally matched her gaze. His hands on her sides drifted down until he met the hem of her dress, taking the delicate material between his fingers. "Can I see more of you then, darling? Promise I'll keep looking at you like this."

Biting back her smile, she drew her hands away from his chest to grab for the hem of her dress. Moving his own hands back, he watched as she pulled her dress over her head, wings tucked against her back with the material drifting over her feathers. The familiar butterflies that came with revealing her body in a way she had never anticipated she would in her angel life flittered through her stomach. Their fluorescent wings flew high enough to glance over the chambers of her heart, feeling just as real as the warmth of his eyes draping over her newly exposed skin. Between Harry's legs, she felt a ridge thicken, pressing into her core with every drawing breath she pulled into her lungs.

Throwing her dress to the floor, her form was left with only a dainty pair of underwear sitting on her hips and a matching bra barely covering her breasts.

Harry's dark eyes seemingly left behind the slight hue of green, instead revealing only pitch black irises that blended seamlessly into his pupils. If any more of his control slipped, the whole of his eyes would match the inky darkness—a sight (Y/N) used to fear that now had her blood pumping.

He couldn't help himself before he had his hands on her once more. His touch was adoring, lingering and warm.

"Y'planned for this didn't you?" he mused, raising a brow when he met her eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked, canting her head with her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

"You know," he drawled, his hips shifting underneath her own with a cursory roll, "I thought y'were an angel, and here y'are dressing in lingerie to seduce a demon. How'd y'even get into heaven, hm?"

The way he spoke to her was thrilling in a way that could rival his touch; he made her feel dirty, questioning how someone like the girl in his lap could have snuck into heaven, while touching and looking at her with reverence she could only keen under.

"I thought you liked it when I did this," she countered, her lips tugging into a faux-frown.

"Oh, I do, darling. Can't you tell?"

With that, the slow roll he'd given with his hips morphed into a strong buck against her hips. The ridge she'd felt before was now a bulge, heavy and pushing. Her wings fluttered recalling the last time he had stuffed himself inside her, her legs thrown over his shoulders and tears in her eyes.

The memory had her shifting her hips against his, rolling her core over the bulge she felt in his lap. Harry's breath hitched just as a petite moan hummed from her chest. His hands on her waist tightened, fingertips denting the soft flesh.

"Do that again for me, darling," Harry murmured, his voice a low rumble as if it were a secret only to be shared with her, "Put on a pretty show for me."

Planting her hands on his abdomen, feeling the blocks of muscle underneath his shirt, she steadied herself on him as she began rolling her hips against his once more. The rough texture of his jeans could be felt through her thin panties, both his thickening cock and the seaming of his pants pressing into her clit. Her knees planted on either side of his hips were digging into the mattress, spreading that much wider the more she rocked against him to sink herself onto him that much more. Her wings fluttered behind her, her feathers fanning in a short fluff at her back.

Under her hands, Harry's stomach was tense, muscles densely bunched together. She glanced up at him to find him watching her with hooded eyes, his gaze feeling just as heavy and tangible as his hands on her waist. The sight had her grinding her hips that much harder against his cock, a shiver thrilling up her spine until a breathless moan fell from her lips.

"I could watch you all day, darling," Harry mused, his voice rumbling under her hands as much as it reached her ears, "But, we don't have that kind of time, do we?"

"No," she answered automatically, a whine to her voice as she shook her head. She didn't really feel like thinking about how quickly their time would be cut short.

His hands on her waist slid down until he reached her hips, his grip solidifying until he had her stopped in her tracks. Her fingers curled in the material of his shirt, her bottom lip sinking under the weight of her teeth.

"Get me out, darling."

Maybe it was the deep rumble of his voice, or the steadfast contact of his eyes with hers, but (Y/N) could have melted in that moment. Her lungs squeezed with her heart rattling behind her ribs. It was only when a smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth that she realized she had lingered too long admiring him.

Unfurling her hands from his top, she fumbled at the waist of his pants. Every shifting of her hips against his lap had her in a daze, making it that much harder to concentrate on following his instructions—something he was well aware of with the way he had his own pelvis rocking upwards as if he didn't know what he was doing.

Pulling down his jeans enough to expose his black briefs, (Y/N) could have breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to hook her fingers in the waist of his underwear. A spray of goosebumps touched at his skin, his cock visibly jumping when she reached for his cock.

His skin was heated, shaft thick with his head leaking by the time she had her fist wrapped around him. Shoving his briefs down enough to pull him out, (Y/N) had her attention stolen and pinned to his cock. The head was leaking and red, a pearl of precum glossing from his slit. She instinctively wrapped her hadn't around his shaft, feeling the ridge of his head under her palm and the pumping of the vining vein wrapped around. A heavy breath shuddered through his chest at the touch. (Y/N) couldn't keep her eyes off of him, lusty adrenaline sparking through her system at the thought that he was in this state because of her.

"You're so cute, darling," Harry said, breathless as he drew her out of her head.

"Huh?" she murmured, tearing her eyes away from his ruddy cock and the shallow pumps she made around his shaft.

If he'd had an answer at the ready, he'd cut himself off as he sank into the mattress with a sigh. The pristine pillow compressed under his head when he threw it back in the preludes of ecstasy.

"Jus' you," he murmured, recovering with his eyes only opening to a slit, "'S always like the first time with, isn't it? Y'always look at me like you've never seen me before—'s cute."

She felt shy all of a sudden, as if she didn't have his cock in her hand. Her wings tucked to her shoulder blades, cocooning her together as if they could shrink and hide her.

"I like you," she told him, "That's all."

"Yeah?" he pressed smugly, his cheeks beginning to flush as (Y/N) just laid her hand on him without offering the relief of her fist, "Jus' like me?"

A bashful tug had her lips curling into a small smile. "I love you."

"That's what I thought."

With that, one of his hands on her waist abandoned post only to land on the back of her neck. His palm was a cuff around the warm skin as he curled upwards and tugged her down in the same sweep. His lips met hers in a warm press, his tongue snaking out with the tip dragging along the full of her bottom lip. She didn't have to think before she was opening up for him, running her own tongue across his to get a taste.

It was (Y/N)'s turn then to get a taste of his pleasure, a moan spilling from his throat and settling on her tongue. Her hand around his cock tightened, the grip snug and clinging. The longer he played with her, his hand tight on the back of her neck as if in fear she would pull away before he was ready, the seat of her panties grew that much more wet. Her toes curled in the bedding at his sides, her free hand pawing at his chest in the lone need to feel him.

Drawing away just enough to speak, (Y/N)'s lips brushed against his own as she whispered, "I-I want to see you, Harry."

"'M here, darling," he answered her simply before attempting to dive back in for more.

"No," she practically pouted, puckering her lips for one more kiss before pleading again, "No, I want more—it's not fair if I'm the only one without my clothes on"

She could feel him smile into her mouth, his hand offering an affectionate squeeze to the back of her neck before he pulled away.

"When have I ever been fair, darling?" he prodded, giving her a raised brow as if he wasn't going to give into each and every single one of her demands.

"You are with me," she countered with a cant to her head.

Something softened in his expression then, as if she didn't have her hand wrapped around his cock. "I suppose I am, aren't I?"

Peeling his shirt off, the material becoming a black puddle on the bed behind her to reveal the tan skin and inked marks covering his musculature.

(Y/N) had heard time and time again throughout her existence how demons could never be trusted, that they were a creation that an angel like her shouldn't taint themselves by even breathing next to. She had been told they were slimy skinned, rows of teeth stuffed in their mouths, with eyes that could pull you straight to hell if you looked into them long enough.

Looking at Harry the way he was now beneath her, she could see why her ancestors would craft such tales; if she had known there were creatures out there that looked the way Harry did, she would have tried to find him the first time she floated from the clouds.

She couldn't help the way her hands drifted up his chest. Her fingers skimmed over his chest, dancing over the butterfly inked on his stomach and he birds up high by his collarbones. There was a flight layer of goosebumps that rose in her wake.

A breathy laugh that fell from his lips brought her attention back to the surface, pulling her gaze to flick up and match his. Amusement floated in his irises, a slight smile on his raspberry lips.

"You're cute," he told her simply.

"I'm not trying to be cute," she answered, a stubborn set to her jaw.

That only seemed to amuse him more, a dimple now denting his cheek as his smile grew. "Right," he drawled, "As much as I love letting y'touch all over me, I don't think we have enough time left for y'to have too much fun."

The reminder was enough to have her mouth fixing into a pout. That wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"Oh, yeah," she answered sullenly, stilling her hands on his shoulders with her body leant over his.

"I know," he said, craning his neck to press a small kiss to the corner of her mouth in a lingerie draw, "Next time we're here, we'll spend all night together. I promise."

A dreamy sigh fanned from her lungs at the thought, her eyes falling closed. It'd been a while since they had been able to spend a whole night in the Pocket together—the last time had left her in love and flying wonky the next day.

She could hear the smile in his voice when he pressed, "Sound good, darling?"

"Mhm," she hummed, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, "I want that now."

"I know y'do," he murmured, "You'll jus' have to settle for me fucking y'fast, then."

He said it like it was a punishment, as if her heart wasn't in her throat with adrenaline when he flipped her over once more. She was flat on her back, wings cushioned against the mattress when he sunk in between her spread thighs once more. Now, she could feel the weight of the muscles she had grazed her hands over, the width of his form she had been grinding against.

The movement had stolen her breath, leaving her chest heaving as he looked down at her. The intensity was back once more, keeping his irises dark as he glazed his eyes over each and every line of her body. He lingered on the line of her bra, surely pinpointing where her rattling heart was scheduled by her ribs.

"What do y'need from me, darling?" Harry mumbled, the blunt of his nails grazing the soft skin of her stomach as he dragged his hands towards the waist of her panties.

Speaking through her shudder, she shook her head, "No-Nothing—I want you."

Harry looked entirely too smug, the curl on his lips one she recognized even as far back as the first time they met. Back then, she couldn't stand the sight—unsure of how a demon could be proud of anything they did. Now, it was one of her favorite things, knowing she had made him feel proud of himself (at least she liked to think of it that way).

"Y'can have me, darling," he assured her, one of his hands dripping from the waist of her underwear and down between her legs, "But, are y'wet enough for me, or do y'need some help?"

His thumb grazed her clit, her body jumping at the slight touch. She could feel her insides pulsing, grasping for something that wasn't there yet.

"I-I don't need help," she stuttered, pushing her hips against his hand in impatience, "Harry, please. I don't want you to leave before we're done."

A pinch appeared between his brows then as he hooked his fingers into the gusset of her underwear, pulling the material to the side. "I would never leave y'like that, you know that. I'll always take care of m'angel."

As if to prove his point, she watched as he fisted his cock and ran the head along her folds. The air had been seemingly sucked out of the room at that moment, leaving her with a shuddering breath leaving her lungs and eyes fighting to close. She could feel his heavy gaze watching her as he nudged his cock against her pulsing opening, a small tease before he pulled back to slide through her folds once more.

"Y'sure you're ready for me?" he teased, drawing out his words for just a second longer of the torture.

"Harry, please," she told him, sounding a bit pathetic to her own ears though there was no guilt in the act. "I need you."

He loved it when she pleaded with him like that. On longer nights, he would have pressed for more, taken any and every bit of begging she could offer, but she was sure the time limit was in the back of his mind when he didn't continue teasing.

With a fluid push of his hips, he sunk in between her hips. (Y/N)'s lips fell open at the stretch, a moan getting stuck in her throat to leave nothing more than a heavy puff of air falling from her mouth. Harry's gaze was concentrated on where they were connected, his length disappearing inside her. His hand stretching back her panties let go when he bottomed out, his base pressing into her budding clit.

His chest was heaving when he finally looked up at her once more. She could see the boundary of his irises beginning to waver, the black bleeding into the sclera. He was losing control in the most thrilling sense, the idea causing her walls to pulse around his splitting length.

"'S been too long, darling," he told her, voice a low rumble.

"Uh-huh," she sounded, giving a pathetic nod of her head with her hands fisting the bedding at her sides. She wanted so badly to reach for him, feel his skin under her palms, but feared flying away if she let go before she had her head on straight.

"Never gonna wait this long again, 'kay?" Rearing back his hips, he grunted when he pushed through her channel once more.

A puff of air left (Y/N)'s lungs once his hips pressed against hers in a slap, as if he had knocked it right out of her. Settling his hands on the bones of her hips, his thumbs stretched up towards the curve of her waist in a gentle sweeping that opposed the strength of his grip. He held her steady as he curated a fluid pace, knocking the breath out of her each time he sank inside her.

(Y/N)'s breathing came in puffs every time she felt his tip nudge deep inside her, her body being pushed further and further into the mattress. Without his hands on her body keeping her place, she would have hit her head on the headboard by now, she figured, the thought being one that would have made her laugh if not for the fact that she was in the middle of something.

"You're so tight," he gritted out, his voice deep and rumbling through his chest, "Thought y'said y'were ready for me."

"I am, I am," she rushed out, pausing when he gave her a particularly punishing thrust, "I-Its been too long, re-rememeber?"

His hands squeezed her hips that much more at her words. "I know, darling. Gonna have to make this one last then. Can't stretch y'out every time we fuck, can we?"

Mindlessly, she shook her head, willing to agree with any and everything he was saying at the moment. She wouldn't mind him taking the time to stretch her out every time he pulled her to bed, but now wasn't the time to get greedy—she already had his cock rearranging her organs, there wasn't much more she could pine for, was there?

Except for maybe touching him herself.

Not wanting to distract him from his job, (Y/N) unfurled her fingers from the sheets at her sides, reaching towards the thick of his arms. Her fingernails sunk into the skin, leaving small moon shapes that would no doubt still be pink by the time he was having to slip out and meet his friend. She liked the idea, her fingers clenching that much more, that a part of her would remain with him even when they couldn't be together.

Harry was seemingly spurred on by the touch, hips knocking into hers in heady strokes. She was going to have bruises tomorrow, but she didn't care. Her mouth dropped open, small uh's leaving her parted lips in time with every push of his hips.

"Harry, I-I," she started, her voice catching in her throat before she could say much more.

"'M right here, darling, 's alright," he attempted to soothe her though his voice was strained and breathy with every thrust he sunk inside her.

Her mouth was dry by the time she found her voice again, her eyes fluttering to a close. "I—Can—I want to touch—"

That was all she managed to get out before a bubbling moan fell from her lips when he dared to grind against her once bottoming out. Through her taut underwear, he pressed against her clit, her body jumping at the touch.

"But you are touching me," he drawled, bringing her back down as he pulled his hips back.

She knew he was only trying to goad her, get her stubborn and petulant in the way that always made him laugh, but she didn't care. It was going to work, but she would leave her scolding for later.

"You know what I mean, Harry" she argued, peeling her eyes open to find him looking at her with that smug smile as if he wasn't exerting all of his energy into stealing her breath away. "You're being so mean to me!"

"I'm being mean to you?" he repeated, the rhythm of his hips slowing just a hair when he brought the intensity of his gaze to match hers. "You really think that right now, darling?"

"Yes, I do," she whined, now upset by the fact he was slowing down and not letting her touch him. She wrapped her legs around his hips from where he was knelt between her thighs in hopes of spurring him on, feeling the ridge of his length pressing through.

One of his hands on her hips slid up her body, skating over her tummy and between her breasts until he landed on her neck. His palm laid flat on her collarbones with his fingers wrapping around her throat, a slight pressure. His hips worked in shallow thrusts, barely pulling his length out before he was pushing in once more.

"Are you sure?" he pressed, a slight pressure closing in on the side of her throat as he squeezed that much more, "If this isn't enough for you, I can show y'how mean I can really be."

(Y/N) felt her eyes round out as she gazed up at him, her heart stuttering in her chest. Time seemingly stood still in that moment, every detail melting away to leave only Harry in focus.

"Oh my god," she murmured, her voice squeaking through her throat.

A slow smile tugged up the corner of Harry's lips. "No god, darling. Jus' me."

(Y/N) couldn't help but to buck her hips against his, urging him for more. She could feel her walls fluttering around him, her wings at her back struggling against the mattress with their own restless energy begging to fluff out.

Harry kept his hand as an anchoring weight on her throat as he dropped back into the rhythm of his hips, tightening in pulsing squeezes just long enough to have her eyes rolling to the back of her head before lightening up once more. His own control—despite the facade he was offering to (Y/N)—began to waver that much more. His eyes were almost completely black, the inky veins snaking out to envelope the sclera with every punishing thrust. The moment (Y/N) was back on Earth, peeling her eyes open enough, she swore she saw glimpses of his glamor fading, revealing the large black wings shrouding his back.

He was close, that much she was sure of.

"A-are you going to cum?" she asked, voice rumbling under his hand.

Shaking his head, he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. "Not until you, darling. Angels first."

"But, I can see your wings."

His breathing came in pants. "I know, but you're still finishing first, darling."

Taking his hand off her neck, the ghost of his warmth left behind, Harry wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her off the bed. Repositioning himself, he knelt on the mattress as he dragged her into his lap. His cock was snug inside her when she settled over his thighs, feeling just that much deeper with the new angle.

Wasting no time, he had his hands stationed on her hips once more, setting a pace for her to bounce on his cock.

"Think y'can fuck yourself like this, darling? Do all the hard work for me?" he murmured, dragging his lips over the same parts of her neck where he had choked her moments before.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she answered, a mindless reflex as he concentrated on matching his grip.

Using the leverage of her knees on either side of him, she lifted herself off his cock, allowing his head to stretch through her pulsing walls, before sitting herself back down in a smack of her skin against his. It was a relief to put her hands on him, feeling every inch she could reach. Her palms skimmed over the broad of his shoulders, planes of his back, and the thick of his arms all with her nails following closely behind.

Harry did much of the same, trailing up the curve of her spine until he found the base of her wings. (Y/N) couldn't help but to keen into his touch, back arching through it took everything in her to keep from getting distracted and keep riding him like he had asked.

The first graze of his fingers over her feathers was enough to get her stomach tightening, and mouth dropping into a moan. She could feel him smiling against her neck, too proud over her reaction.

"Always so cute, even when y'don't mean to be, you know that?" he murmured, dotting a kiss just below her ear, "All I've got to do is touch your feathers, and you're done for."

She wanted to say something, tell him that it wasn't that easy, but there was nothing that would escape her lips other than puffs of heavy breath and whining moans.

Rocking his hips up to meet hers, that much more pleasure settled in her stomach. As much as she wanted to argue with him that she wasn't that easy to make cum, there was some truth behind the fact that she was flying towards the finish line with every brush of his fingers and rock of his hips.

"I can feel y'squeezing me, darling," he murmured, dragging his mouth over the line of her jaw in a lingering kiss, "Y'gonna cum for me? Did I finally work hard enough for you?"

Despite the fact he'd asked her a question, there was no way he had been expecting an answer with the way he wiggled his fingertips through the brush of her feathers and coasted along the bony structure underneath. He knew she wouldn't be able to survive that, a long moan choking out from her throat with her stomach too tight to bear.

(Y/N) tried to keep her pacing as best she could—something she couldn't believe Harry was able to do all the time—, but the rhythm was undoubtedly interrupted as she came around him. She could feel every inch of him as her insides pulsed around him, taking in the ridge of his head and the length that had split her open in the first place. His base was pressed heavily against her clit, rivaling the pressure of his fingers dancing through her feathers.

She wanted to be present but the heavens called to her then, the Pocket left behind for a few lingering moments. By the time she was floating back down to Earth, Harry's hands settling on her hips as he lifted her off his cock, the sight before her was enough to get her back to square one, wishing they more time.

Harry's eyes were now completely pitch black, no more white sclera or shatters of green to be seen. His glamour had faded away, leaving the leather stretch of his wings visible, the span much larger than her own as they fanned out around them. The webbing cocooned around them, creating a curtain around her body as if there wasn't enough of him touching her already.

His cock shone in the low light between them, her slick coating him as he fisted the length. It only took a few passes of his hand before his cum blurted out in thick ropes across her stomach.

"Fuck—(Y/N)—I—" Nothing of coherence fell from his lips then, every bit of concentration laid to rest as he watched himself cum on an angel.

A furrow had his brows pinched together, his eyes hooded and dark. His mouth was stagnant in a gape once he stopped trying to speak.

It wasn't until the remaining spurts of his cum rolled down his shaft and his ruddy head was seemingly beginning to stain purple that he pulled his shaky hands away. Using his wings as well as his hands, he hugged (Y/N) to his chest with his softening cock between them. Even with the mess that was beginning to dry on her stomach, he held her tight, pressing hard kisses to her temple and side of her face until he met her lips.

"Y'okay?" he panted to her, the tip of his nose nudging against her own.

"I'm okay," she murmured, wrapping her own arms around his neck.

"Happy?" he asked, just the same as he always did in these quiet moments after the storm.

A small smile stretched over her lips. "Happy."

Gently laying her backwards, Harry kept himself glued to her, wings and all, as they settled among the sheets. Despite the fact he had no discernible pupil, she could feel his gaze traveling over her features and taking her in as he always did. She felt bashful under his eyes, her own wings shyly tucking into her back.

"What is it, darling?" he asked, sweeping a few stray hairs from her face.

"Nothing, just... You."

"Just me?" he countered, reaching blindly for his discarded shirt he'd tossed earlier.

"Just you," she repeated with a breathy laugh, allowing him to wipe his mess away with his shirt. (How he had the courage to clean her up with it knowing that he'd have to wear it out to meet his friend later, she wasn't sure). "How long can you stay?"

Harry's features took on a somber set at her words, just the same as she felt. "Not long, darling. Jus' long enough to make sure y'get to sleep, then I'll have to leave."

"What if I don't fall asleep?"

The smile he gave her told her that he was very familiar with the game she was beginning to play with him.

"Guess I'll have to stay."

Despite the black eyes and leathery bat wings sprouting from his back, the sweet smile and boyish dimples in Harry's cheeks could rival that of any angel in (Y/N)'s opinion.

That was why they worked, she thought as she snuggled closer to him: she brought out the angel in him and he showed her just how fun sinning could be.

—————

ahhhh I guess this is my little contribution to the valentines day vibe this year! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas send them in!! I also have more writing available on my patreon if you want more :)

#writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry blurb #harry imagine #demon harry #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #demon harry styles #harry styles x reader #pleasing #harrys house #fine line #as it was #Harry styles smut #Harry smut

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hitomisuzuya · 2 months

Note

bodyguard x overworked fem ceo reader person here lol

I’ve got a smut version I’d love to share

thinking of reader (who’s not overworked this time) to just have an amazing body. Like her body is the epitome of attractive, she’s js hot like that🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

she’s wearing tight fitting office clothes (blouse, blazer, tights, and ong the sluttiest little tight putting black pencil skirt.) and scara walks in seeing her bending over to get a file

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Fingering. Degradation.

This request😳 I'm sorry this took so long to get to😭

Scaramouche was on his way into your office with cups of coffee and hot chocolate for the both of you. He nearly spit out his bitter, black coffee when he saw you.

The sight of you bent over, reaching down to pick up a file you'd dropped next to the cabinet made him start to feel hard. Your ass looked defined and grope able. He swore that if he tilted his head a little, he could see a peek of your panties.

Your black stockings hugged your thighs in a way that was impossible for Scaramouche's greedy hands to resist. He set the cups down on your desk, his eyes trained on your ass as he walked over to you.

You looked so breedable bent over like that. Were you trying to tease him?

He reached out and groped your ass, smirking when he heard your shy squeak. "Scaramouche, it's still office hours," You said, blushing in embarrassment feeling his hand squeeze your ass again. It appeared he hadn't heard a word you said.

"Hmm?" Scaramouche purred, his hand travelling from your ass to your thigh. He hooked his fingers through the band of your stockings, snapping it back against your thigh.

Any other protests from you died, quickly being silenced as his hand cupped your cunt. He rubbed and teased your clit outside of your panties, quickly making you wet as you squirmed. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips watching you grind into his fingers, a string of shaky moans emitting from your parted lips.

Scaramouche took his time stroking your swelling clit, reducing your panties to soaked mess clinging to your cunt. Every sweep and stroke of his thumb made your clit throb, the fabric of your panties creating friction against it.

"What a slut I have for a boss," His eyes followed the moments of hips as you grinded into his fingers, "so wet and eager for her bodyguard's fingers," You mewled in protest when he took his fingers off your clit.

He bunched your skirt up around your hips, his eyes getting the perfect view of how wet you were for him. It made him lick his lips, not being able to resist smacking his hand across your ass. You yelped softly, your pussy clenching around nothing from his degradation.

You reached down with a shaky hand to pull your panties aside for him. He smacked your hand away, hastily pushing them aside with two fingers. Your toes curled as his connected with your clit, your legs shaking as he pressed his thumb in slow circles on it.

"Sc-Scara, please," You moaned needily, all rational thoughts crumbling in your mind. Your hole quivered around the tip of his fingers as he teased them at your entrance, gliding his fingers back up to flick your clit.

He knew very well he could make you cum by rubbing and playing with your clit, but he wanted to make you cream on his slender fingers.

A loud gasp of pleasure tore from your throat as he plunged his fingers into your wet warmth. They curled and nudged into your sweet spot. Your fingernails clawed into the wall, grinding your hips back into his fingers. Jolts of pleasure went straight to your throbbing clit, making you see stars.

"Fuck you are so tight," He groaned, scissoring your walls apart. He made sure you felt every drag of his fingers against your sensitive walls as they clapped around them. "You'd suffocate my cock with your slutty cunt."

Your orgasm curled tighter and tighter inside of you. His eyes were trained on the slick that oozed out around his fingers, squelching sounds accompanying your shameless moans.

The pace of his fingers increased, hitting into your sweet spot more firmly when he saw your body twitching and tensing with your approaching orgasm.

"Be a good girl, and cum like the slut you are," He pumped his fingers as deep inside of you as he could, sweeping them up to play with your clit before plunging them back inside of you.

You whimpered before crying out loudly for him, your body shaking as your orgasm tore through you. His cock was straining in his pants watching you twitch and make a mess on his fingers.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #modern au #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

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the-witheredroses · 2 months

Text

Imagine: insecure/worried!Price x Reader (& more)

TW: minor hurt/future comfort(?), sleep deprived ramble

Next>>

Price always worried about letting you in too close. His job is dangerous, and his life is always at risk. John felt guilty imagining you waiting for him, only for him to never return back to you.

It didn’t help that you had just broken up with your last boyfriend, someone you, admittedly, thought you were going to marry. John didn’t want to risk you being emotionally wrecked again so soon.

He never wants to lose you, and at the time, he fully believed knew he loved you. But he didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, so he made a fail safe.

With some thorough convincing, your relationship opens- but only on your side. John encourages you to get another boyfriend, much to your initial dismay. It’s not because he wants to share you, but because he doesn’t want to risk you being left alone.

The two of you never discuss your other relationship, and when he has free time, the two of you spend every moment together. But sometimes his work is overbearing, so he doesn’t tell you to come over.

He spends the night alone, because to him, a night of just sleeping next to each other isn’t good enough for you. You deserve better.

It hurts feeling like he isn’t enough, or fearing you’ll be in pain at his expense. He loves you and wants you to be happy.

You always tried to tell him he was enough, that you loved him, but he never fully listened.

At least if you’ll have someone to comfort you in case he dies, right?

——

Soap had called the team over for a housewarming party after moving into his new place. His bonnie thing was set to show up soon, and he couldn’t stop ranting about her (he hasn’t stopped vaguely bragging about her since they got together).

John wasn’t too focused, instead thinking about when he should tell you he’s back in town- it had been awhile since he saw you.

Maybe if he asked you to move in, the two of you could transition into a relationship where he felt confident he was enough for—

Your voice breaks him from his thoughts as he hears you greet Johnny. And the moment you turned the corner, his heart stopped.

His lass, the one he encouraged to date another, was also with his teammate.

Johnny was introducing you to the team as you and John locked eyes; the dots formed and connected instantly, and the panic settled in.

What were you two to do? Lie and pretend to not know each other? How could you pretend not to know the person you were in love with?

“But ‘imma steal ‘er from him. Make ‘im realize his mistake lettin’ ‘is bird roam the city unattended.” Johnny joked as he finished explaining the circumstances of your relationship. How you two were committed, but how you also had a loser (Johnny’s words) boyfriend who wanted an open relationship.

As Johnny continued to talk about the two of you, he seemed oblivious to his surroundings. But so were you and Price…

Gaz stared at you, wondering how his ex girlfriend -the one he regretted ever leaving, the one he still loved, the one he wanted to marry- was there.

His heart was on the ground being stepped on. All his regret was tripling down as he saw his teammate holding you so lovingly, the way he wished he still could.

It was selfish to want you back, even years after the break up. But he couldn’t help wanting his soulmate back. And it was his fault for pushing you away…

When you finally broke your gaze with Price, you unintentionally met the wide-eyed gaze of Gaz- and you felt like throwing up.

Your two boyfriends and now your ex too??

But you hadn’t even noticed him yet.

Ghosts eyes landed on you in silence the moment you walked in. It took him a minute to even process how you were there.

“Lass…” Simon spoke in a tone only you were familiar with, making everyone else go silent and turn to him.

“Simon..?” Your voice was quiet and shaky as you realized immediately who he was.

The mask hid him at first, but you knew the voice of your long-lost friend. Your childhood best friend, your childhood crush.

The same one who “died” before either of you could confess to each other…

How could these men all be in the same room? It was like ghosts of the past, present, future, and the dead were haunting you.

“So… I guess introductions aren’t needed…” Soap realized as everyone stared at you.

————

Sorry if this sucks. I’m ignoring my endless pile of wips and writing this at 2 am

And I may expand upon it…

It would 100% devolve into poly!141 x reader btw

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heartpiratedrabbles · 2 months

Text

Indifference Part 2

Part 1 ~~

Sanji X Fem Reader

Sanji let to door shut behind him as soon as Chopper said you were stable. Heading to the edge of the deck to lean over the railing, the sun long gone and the only light coming from the stars in the sky. He grabbed a cigarette and his lighter, his hands noticeably shaking as he brings the items closer to his mouth.

His eyes were dazed over as he attempted to light the nicotine in his fingers, wanting any sort of comfort compared to what just happened the past few hours. Finally succeeding he breathe in the sweet release as smoke fills his lungs. The feeling grounding him ever so slightly as he lets his head fall, staring at his hands.

The feeling of warm blood enveloping them as he tried to stop the flow on your back, the transfusions that happened quickly while Chopper got to work stitching the wounds. His hands slowly turning sticky and dry, his shirt covered in the red liquid. And your face, his mind kept replaying the look you had given him just before you fell. The pale, worried, confused face. He didn’t know if you had tried to say something or if you were just trying to breathe, but the last gasps that escaped your lips before falling unconscious haunted his mind.

His throat tightened slightly as he flicked the butt of his cigarette into the open water below him, quickly lighting another while trying not to clench his teeth. How did no one notice? What happened that your back was targeted? His hands clenched the railing underneath him; how didn’t he realize you had been hurt?

During the fight he had been so focused on not looking at you. Deciding instead to focus on beating more marines than Zoro. Didn’t you cry out for help? Why was your back undefended? Wasn’t anyone fighting with you?

~~~

You woke up the next day with Chopper fretting over you. Crying and yelling at you for not telling him you had gotten hurt. In the corner of the room, you could see bloody bandages piled into the bin, the lights just slightly too bright for your liking as you attempt to sit up. “What do you think you’re doing?! You need to rest,” Chopper ran back over to you, pushing you down as he heard you wincing.

“It can’t be that bad…” You mumble trying to think back to the moments before you passed out. It was difficult to think of anything at the moment, your throat was dry and your body felt heavier than normal.

“Not that bad? You nearly died!” Chopper cried, lecturing you while you stopped listening. The scolding voice going in one ear and out the other as you glance around the room. The reindeer fretting over every movement as he checked over you again.

“I’m alive.” Your voice was re-assuring as you placed a hand on his shoulder. Even with such a small movement you could tell how tired your body was. “I hope I didn’t cause to much trouble Chopper.” You attempt to smile and it seems to cause the cotton-candy lover to cry. The water works coming out as he yells about how worried he was.

Robin is the first one to enter the room upon the commotion being heard. Giving you a bowl of soup, “You gave us quite a scare back there.” And just like that everyone visited you as time went on. Never being alone but also not being allowed to get up when you want.

This biggest thing you noticed though was the lack of Sanji. You could hear him through the wall, prepping food and yelling at crewmates sneaking a taste. Yet he’d never made his way in to check on you like the others. The aching pain in your back almost feeling good compared to your heavy heart.

~~~

Sanji kept replaying that night in his head. Or really that day. Maybe the past few weeks. His heart sinking further into a pit as his thought about what he could have done differently, what would have been better if he had handled the situation better.

He never meant to grow feelings for you, and when he felt his heart beat faster, he had thought it was the cigarettes catching up to him. Your cute voice filling his usually empty kitchen as you insisted on helping him. It’s not that no one else offered, it’s that you were just insistent on coming. And who was he to turn a pretty lady away?

As time passed, he started trusting you with more and more. His normally quiet evenings filled with meal prepping turning into spending time with you. Telling stories of adventures you had had, without the other. Soon enough he had you tasting his food prematurely, something he hadn’t done before, something only Zeff had the pleasure of doing as he honed his skills. He wasn’t sure why but watching as truly taste his food, putting in your thoughts for potential seasonings filled him with joy.

Even when your alone time together was interrupted, he was more than happy that you were able to fend off the main course while he fixed the others a quick snack. Making sure Luffy didn’t get too many bites of the unfinished food.

And of course, he noticed how you would sneak candy out of the kitchen for Chopper. It was his duty to make sure everyone had a well-balanced nutritious diet, and while he’d scold you from time to time, he always made sure to leave the healthier candy in a easy hiding spot.

Your laugh was another thing, your voice like angels singing in his ears as he drew closer with snacks prepared specifically with you in mind. The appreciative look on your face as you’d take the item from his trey sending him over the edge.

But that’s the thing. His heart racing was normal. Any women that walked by made him shudder, yet there you were. Seemingly making his heart race to the moon, faster than he’d ever felt it. The almost painful beating in his chest making him begrudgingly go to Chopper to make sure he wasn’t getting sick.

His shock when Chopper said he was as healthy as ever, going on his normal spiel to cut back on smoking but that the moment nothing had changed. It took him another week or two to realize what was causing the increased heart rate. You had been talking to Zoro, laughing with a smile on your face, and all Sanji could feel while watching from afar was a pained beat hammering away.

He thought he knew what love was. But clearly, he was in fresh waters when it came to you. And despite his bravado, his chivalrous behaviors and language of love, he was scared. Zeff had only ever taught him how to treat a lady, Sanji would see women come and go, but none that held onto his adoptive fathers’ hand for long. And Judge hadn’t a paternal bone in his body when it came to giving advice for the few years Sanji had spent with him. For once, he felt completely unprepared.

As Sanji smokes the last of his cigarettes, he lets out a frustrated sigh, tossing the empty carton to the side as he starts to chew on his thumb nail instead. His mind twirling with how he should have dealt with his own feelings differently.

His decision to stay away came hard to him. His heart telling him to follow you to the ends of the world, yet the pain in his chest of being truly rejected, turned down by the first person he’s truly wanted stopped him from pursuing you. He made a conscious effort to stay away as much as possible, but still believing your cooking time together could be his own secret heaven.

But as time went on, he realized your reactions to him, your delightful noises when you’d finish a task, your happy laughter filling the air of his kitchen, was making him day dream more. The seemingly secret rendezvous in his mind taking precedent in his every waking moment, getting distracted through out the day until you’d find him in the kitchen once again.

And so, he started to actively ignore you in the kitchen too. Maybe, if he stopped talking to you, his feelings would settle down and his feet would stop turning cold. It worked for a while; his heart settled as it didn’t hear your delightful tones ringing through the air.

Yet it didn’t last for long. The more measures he put in place to stop his feelings from growing, the more he seemed to fall. So, he swallowed the lump in his throat that fateful day. Not turning to you as you entered the kitchen to help him once again. He uttered those words without looking at you. He knew if he saw you, his resolve would break. His back was tense, waiting for a response from you, and yet it never came.

Instead, he heard your feet shuffle away, the door closing behind you as you didn’t utter a single word to him. And somehow, that hurt worse than any rejection Sanji had expected. Anger, confusion, anything, but silence? He grits his teeth as his heart pounded like never before, praying that it’d settle down soon, that these feelings he’d never known before would disappear without a trace.

Sanji bites his thumb, snapping himself out of his thoughts as he stared out into the ocean. He didn’t want to remember the fight with the marines. He didn’t want to remember the trail of blood, leading him to your pale face. He didn’t want to remember as his hands became drenched in your blood, your body turning cold underneath him as Chopper fixed you up. He didn’t want to remember how close you had come to deaths door before you finally turned around to dance on the fence of the afterlife and the living realm.

“Sanji…” The voice he had dreaded hearing called out to him, anchoring him to the present, the now, as you stood staring at him with some concern in your eyes. His heart froze, seeing you standing, walking, talking felt like a miracle that made it feel like he could breathe again. “I guess I should thank you,” You laugh out lowly, ignoring the own pain in your heart.

Sanji’s heart sank, your laugh sounded empty and bare, it wasn’t you. He focused on your body, it was too frail, too pale for your complexion as you stood there. “I didn’t think my wounds were that bad…” You trailed off, making light of your own injuries despite your back now littered with stitches soon to be deep scars.

Sanji’s blood ran cold as you continued to awkwardly joke about the situation, your way to cope with nearly losing your life. You still felt a little light headed when you came out to get fresh air, your breath being taken away when you saw Sanji, and you couldn’t stop yourself before you started talking. And now it seemed as those you couldn’t stop talking, dry laughter leaving your mouth as you attempt to get the man in front of you to speak a single word to you.

Then, without a second passing, arms were wrapped around you. A tight, yet careful squeeze holding you in place as Sanji buried your face into his chest, his hand resting on the back of your head, lightly stroking your hair. The sudden embraced shut you up, you breathe caught in your throat and your mind going blank as heavy emotions hit you, yet time felt still.

“I’m sorry,” Sanji whispered, only audible to you, “I…” Sanji choked on his words, his chest jumped a bit as though choking back a sob, unspoken words being conveyed from his actions as tears finally fall down your face. A small wail erupting from your throat as you pressed your face into his dress shirt, your hands bawling the fabric of his shirt as you cried. His soothing hands holding you as you finally let your emotions out into the man you trust the most on the crew.

Tag List: @crocodilethesir @ultraviolencezs @littleleelee @akaashi-todorki @cynwing @tinyweebsstuff @someobsessionrequired @vvyeislazzy @mk-and-her-reblogs @suga-tofu @random-iix @peachycat17 @atinymonbebestay @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction @69cocktimusprime @secretlife028 @bankaixx

#Sanji #Sanji X Reader #Sanji X Fem Reader #One Piece #One Piece Angst #One Piece X Reader #Angst #Part 2

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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months

Text

Alfred's Boy Part 4

"Master Bruce, would it be alright if I had someone over?" Danny's soft voice breaks the chatter around the table. Bruce is honestly surprised to hear the boy speak up without prompting. It takes him a moment to answer how unexpecting the request is.

The boy seems to think his silence is an answer, for he ducks his head and brings up his shoulders. "Nevermind. It was stupid. I'll tell Clockwork to forget it."

"No. No. This is your house as well, Danny. You can invite any of your friends. I'm just surprised Clockwork would allow you to contact guests from your old home." Bruce assures. His eyes flicker to the rest of the table, showing how everyone is focused on their own plates, but all conversation has died.

He is sure half of his children are attempting to develop super hearing with how much they are straining to eavesdrop.

"He's not really a friend, per se." Danny pushes some of his food to one side of his plate. It's a nervous habit Bruce had realized he does when speaking of his old home. Not just food but anything he can fiddle with, as Danny seems unable to hold still when nervous. "Wes and I have....a history, you can say. Clockwork said that he was allowed to visit because he knew what was happening but wasn't too involved with the situation. Not like Sam and Tucker, my best friends, or my sister Jazz. "

A history? Oh no, was this "Wes" an ex?

Bruce looks again at his youngest and fights a wince at Damian's dark sneer as the boy stabs his broccoli. Please let Wes just be anything but an ex. He doesn't want to follow the other kid around to make sure he doesn't have to fight off his children from bringing him harm.

Dick speaks up, likely thinking along the same lines. "I'm glad you can still have someone to see you! When will he be here? Will he be alright with Gotham's....everything?"

A smile is fighting at the corner of Danny's lips, and Bruce swears he can hear his children's hearts shatter as the boy flushes slightly. "Trust me, Wes can handle a lot. Clockwork said he would let Alfred know the details if Master Bruce agreed."

The butler pulls out an old-looking pocket watch. After checking the time, Alfred snaps it close with an impassive smile. "Clockwork will have the boy here in three days. I believe Danny will have a few days off then to enjoy his company?"

It's not really a request, but Bruce still nods. "Of course."

Danny's entire face lights up. It's the most joy he's seen on the boy's face since his arrival. "Thank you, Master Bruce. Thank you, Alfred. Can you please excuse me? I want to prepare his room."

"Of course, dear boy," Alfred nods his head. Danny is gone in a flash, a secret smile pulling at his lips. He waits a few seconds, so Danny's footsteps can fade away before leveling a stern stare at everyone at the table.

Bruce straightens his back out of reflex when that all-knowing stare passes over him. He barely contains a sigh of relief when Alfred slightly lingers on him to transfer his gaze to Damian.

He feels terrible for his son but cannot step between the butler and him. Damian will have to fight this battle on his own.

"I trust everyone here will not give Danny or his guest any grief during his break." It's not a question. It's a camond. Everyone shivers slightly out of fear.

"No."

"You don't have to worry about me"

"I have some stuff to do."

"Of course not Alfred."

Alfred doesn't precisely threaten them, but he does make his eyes a little darker "Danny's guest will not find shadows following him."

A few of his kids look heartbroken, while Jason has an expression of manic glee blooming on his face.

The following night, Danny is asking for ideas on where to take Wes on his tour. Apparently, both are from a small town and are used to having fewer options for entertainment.

"Kids usually either went to the mall or the local burger place. The mall wasn't even that big too, so after a while it got boring" Danny admits.

"You have to take him to Batburger," Jason tells Danny. Bruce fights the urge to leap over the table and punch his child. Jason knows that Danny hadn't gone to the restaurant so a lot of his siblings had been dreaming of taking the boy on a date there.

He's just rubbing salt in the wounds at this point.

"I think I will. I'll take him to museums too. Wes loves history." Danny writes some ideas down in a little notebook. He's taken to carrying it around, brainstorming a perfect weekend there.

Bruce had glanced at it earlier that day, when Danny had been busy cleaning and had read, "Make out point- Dick said the stars are the clearest there."

He almost had a heart attack. For all that Danny was Alfred's boy, Bruce still felt very protective of Danny like his own. He did not want his somewhat son to be going to any place with the name make out point.

No one speaks after that- primarily due to his younger children trying to shift their sobs and the older ones trying to comfort them without letting Danny notice.

Eventually, Cullen gets up from the table, excusing himself with a half-baked excuse of needing to do homework, and Harper chases after him. The two are followed by Tim- whose eyes are glossy- Steph, who looks to be biting her lip. Duke, whose hands are curled into fists, and Damian, who stomps out like a bull about to charge.

Bruce leaps to his feet but is stopped by Dick, who pats his shoulder. "I got this."

"The plot thickens," Jason says before he, too, goes after his siblings. For all his teasing, his second oldest adores his brothers and sisters, so he'll be there in their time of need.

"Is something...wrong?" Danny asks after a moment of hesitation. "I can tell Clockwork and Wes not to do the visit."

"No. You have Wes over. We talk." Cass tells him, giving the boy a wink as she, too, steps away. "Tonight, all ice cream."

"Yes." Alfred sighs. "I do believe that would be best. A frozen treat to soothe the pain of heartbreak. I'll bring up the tubs for everyone in a moment."

Bruce fights the urge to bury his face in his hands as Danny spring to his feet offering to help with the ice cream, unaware he is the cause for the comfort food.

Despite the apparent tension in the manor, the promised weekend does arrive. Danny is beside himself with excitement. He's not wearing a suit for once- he's gotten to copying Alfred in a misguided attempt at a butler uniform- and is wearing street clothes.

Besides, when the first day, Bruce has never seen Danny in street clothes. He's surprised that Danny dresses like a punk rocker- complete with a black leather jacket, big combat boots, and various chains.

He looks like the type of person fathers warn their daughters away from. Bruce hates how that only makes more of his children bestowed.

Danny had given everyone a happy smile when Bruce handed him the keys to one of his sports cars- he saw no reason why Wes and Danny should take a bus to the airport when he had plenty of vehicles to lend him. Alfred had allowed the boy to go alone since Danny needed to go through a particular gate for Wes.

Apparently, Clockwork would be sending Wes on a private plane. It burned not to know who Clockwork was or what he did, but Bruce fought the urge to snoop to get Alfred to stop glaring at him.

"I bet you he's not even that great," Tim grumbles, stuffing a chocolate cookie into his mouth. "Bet you he's ugly."

"With buck teeth" Steph adds stealing her own cookie.

"He likely never even seen a sword," Damian spits.

"Come on guys, I know it sucks, but we can't just dis on Wes 'cause Danny likes him," Duke says though it's not very convincing, seeing as he dropped over the couch in a depressive slouch.

"Why are all the good gays taken?" Cullen sighs, ignoring the meta.

Bruce opens his mouth to offer some comfort or maybe lecture them, but the front door opens before he gets a chance. Everyone sits up only to slump down as Dick strolls in with a cheerful smile. They all glare at him, which makes Dick flauter in his steps for only a second.

"They're waiting for Danny," Bruce tells him. Dicks smile regains his cheer as the oldest throws himself on the couch.

"He's outside with his guest. Lovely guy."

"Is he ugly?" Tim asks hopefully. His dreams are dashed as Dick shakes his head.

"He could be a supermodel."

"Of course, he can."

Jason snorts from behind a book. Bruce knows he is not reading it, simply by the fact he hasn't turned a page in the last ten minutes- his son speed reads whenever he adores a book- and is likely enjoying the show.

The door opens again, this time accompanied by two sets of laughter. An unfamiliar voice wheezes "-Dash then reads out love poems he wrote about Phantom!

"No!" Danny gasps. "Not Dash Baxter. What did the other A-listers do in retaliation?"

"Nothing that's the crazy part. They had poems too!"

The two voices are carrying, so Bruce has a few seconds to prepare himself. So do his kids, who all sit up at attention, a few with not as welcoming expressions as he would like. The voices round the corner, and Bruce looks at Wes first.

Dick was right. He's a handsome young man with ginger hair and flickers of freckles. He is dressed similarly to Danny, but a little less black and slightly more burnt orange to add color to his punk look. A worn-out backpack is swung over his shoulder while the same arm is tugging along a suitcase behind him.

Wes is also holding Danny's hand with a free hand.

Damian makes a slightly wounded sound that digs a dagger into Bruce's heart. His baby's first heartbreak.

Danny looks surprised to see them all, seeing as the family usually prepares to go out as the Bats at this time- but he smiles widely after a moment. "Everyone I like you to meet Wesley Weston. Wes, this is my boss, Bruce Wayne, and his kids, Dick Grayson-wayne, Jason Todd-Wayne, Casandra Wayne, Tim Drake-Wyane, Stephine Brown, Damian Wayne, Cullen Row, and Harper Row."

Wes smiles at them, waving the hand he has interlocked with Danny. Bruce winces as most of his kids give half-hearted greetings. Thankfully Alfred is in the kitchen and misses their terrible manners.

Wes pauses and squits at the youngest of the house before he sighs. "Of course, it happens in this dimension too."

"What?" Danny asks confused

"Danny and I aren't dating," Wes tells the room, ignoring the startled boy he's launched onto. "Danny just needs to have physical contact for his mental health. So we hold hands. He also needs to have someone sleep with him. Otherwise, his core doesn't recharge correctly."

"Wes!" Danny protests. "They don't know about cores!"

"Oh," Wes shrugs, waving his hands at them, "Never mind. Processed as normal, Danny and I will cuddle in his room. Danny lead the way."

Alfred's foster son flushes a bright red but quickly tugs the guest away. Jason shakes from unrestrained laughter as Damian stabs the table on which he is sharpening his knives.

Bruce yells after the two boys.

"The door stays open, Danny!"

"Master Bruce, it's not like that!" Danny yells back, mortified, and Wes breaks into impish laughter.

"I hate him," Duke hisses, and Bruce gives in to the urge to bury his face in his hands.

It's going to be a long weekend.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Alfred's boy #Part 4 #Wes is just here for the cuddles #Yes Danny is from a different dimension in this.#Everyone from that dimension is hot #Bruce is trying to dad

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gfguren · 3 months

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shoto, very suggestive, mention of cunninglingus, 500ish words

Thinking about Shoto, your sweet, naive boyfriend, who just doesn't get it most of the time, and how he comes to you one day, asks in the sweetest tone, in the most unbothered way imaginable, if he can eat you out.

And by god does it take every bit of your patience not to call up every last friend of his until you find exactly which one of them put that phrase in his vocabulary.

Instead, you press the pages of the book you were reading closed, turn to him calmly though you're feeling anything but, fold your hands in your lap as if you're heart isn't running a marathon in your chest.

You'd been intimate before, but never like that.

Wandering hands, and heated kisses, and seeing each other in your most raw, and intimate state is one thing - Shoto tasting you is another. Not that you didn't want it, not that he didn't want it either. You just didn't want to go too far, too quick, didn't want to push him out of his comfort zone, didn't want to mess up something so good.

It's why you don't take him seriously when he asks something so out-of-pocket, suggestive in ways you've never known him to be. Why you're absolutely, surely, positive, he isn't asking permission to be in between your thighs, why you're sure he must've heard something wrong, got the meaning twisted somewhere along the way. It's the very same reason you straighten your shoulders to hide the way your knees press together when he adds a little "please" to the end.

"Shoto," you say with as much indifference as you can muster. "That doesn't mean what you think it does, I'm sure you probably think it means to go out to eat, or that-"

He shakes his head, lays a hand just above your knee, squeezes gently until whatever excuse you were blubbering dies on your tongue.

"That's not what it means," he says in the exact tone you use when explaining something obvious to him. "Do you want me to explain it to you?"

You hate how innocently he tilts his head, red hair falling softly over one eye, hate how the butterflies burst, warmth spreading over your cheeks and down between your thighs, because you know he doesn't mean it like that.

"No, Shoto, I-" you sigh, carefully thumb the cover of your book. "It's just, I don't think you know what it means."

You think you hear something like amusement rumble in his chest; it's rare, Shoto's laughter. You've heard it on occasion, fell for the soft reverberation and crescent-moon crinkle to his eyes. But this, this is different.

"I know what it means," he says, matter-of-factly, small, crooked smile tugging the corner of his lips.

He drops to his knees, and you promptly forget how to breathe. His dual gaze finds you from beneath dark lashes; one bright and blue, and eager, the other grey like smoke, clouded with something imploring - it fills your lungs until you can feel just how much he wants you with every bated breath.

His hands are warm when he kneads the fat of your hips between slender, calloused fingers. "So can I?"

Maybe Shoto gets it more often than you give him credit for.

#shoto #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #shouto x reader #shoto x you #shouto x you #shoto x y/n #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x you #mha x you #...do you ever feel some type of way about your own writing?#something about shoto saying do you want me to explain it to you is making my head spin idk idk idk

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yoyokalicent · 5 months

Text

so i died there under you, every night, all night.

pairing: felix catton x reader

summary: two best friends who seem to have come into the world together, leave together too.

warning(s): angst, mentions of fwb (they're so in love), drugging, drinking, death, all around sadness.

｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆

felix had told you to follow him to the maze, kissing into the side of your head, bulge pressing into your ass as you danced besides the groups of people who gathered to celebrate oliver.

you tried to dodge the groups of people to follow him, but somewhere along the way someone offered you a blunt, and you stopped following him.

"you're with felix?" the girl asked, posh accent surrounding the blunt before she handed it back to you.

"best friends, grew up together." you say, puffing the blunt, waiting for her to respond with hooded eyes, starting to become heavy from the smoke.

her eyes light up immediately, taking the blunt from your fingers, "so you won't mind if i have a go at him? maybe even put in a good word for me?"

your lips form an 'o' as she continues to speak, "i'm actually gonna go find him." you're up from the lunging chair right away, moving across the lawn with your arms swinging in determination, determination to find felix and make him yours. show her he's yours.

you enter the dark maze and look through every corner to find him, after a while you think about giving up, giving up and just going up to his room and stripping of your clothes, going to sleep.

"felix?" you yelled one last attempt to find him, dragging your feet through the maze slowly trying to find him.

your matching golden halo was sliding over your hair, making its way toward your forehead as it covered your eyes, just as you put it back your body collided with someone else pushing you onto the ground.

"felix?" you screamed, the drinks in your system making you just a little more jumpy, and wanting him a whole lot more.

you look up from where you sit on the ground to see oliver, with wet eyes and a look on his face you can't describe, "where's fi, ollie?"

"over there." he grumbles, helping you up and pointing in his direction. you give him a pat on the shoulder before your pump clad feet take you in the direction of felix. excited for whatever he wanted to so badly give you.

all of your excitement dwindles when you see him, sitting on the grass, back against the statue with a bottle of champagne in his grasp, "you okay fi?"

"fuckin' perfect, love. how's your night?" he asks, looking down at the bottle he had yet to drink from.

you frown, "i was doing great 'till i fell on my ass," you sit beside him running your fingers through his hair, "what ruined your night? we were having s'much fun."

"i was, i really was, so excited to see you." he hands you the open champagne bottle, fizzing with excitement more than ever, "then oliver had to ruin it. you know he's a fuckin' liar?"

you hum at his words, remembering when you were swept away from the warmth of your bed to go meet olivers parents, "i know felix, can't wait for him to leave. so it's just us."

you'd been waiting for him to leave from the moment he arrived, always a couple steps behind you and felix, never giving the two of you your time alone, "drink it off, yeah?"

the smile on his face is one you're happy to see, one that takes the bottle from you, taking a huge swig before bringing it up to your lips, "yeah?" you respond wrapping your lips around the opening, bringing the liquid into your mouth, "why's it so fizzy?"

"cheap, probably. ollie gave it to me, for us." he says making your eyebrows raise in surprise, taking another sip before giving it to him.

"took a hit off a girls blunt, wanted me to put a good word in for her." you watch him drink, bracelets sliding up and down with his movements, "wanted you, bad."

his eyes roll at your words, "not happening. got you spending all my money, don't need her."

your cheeks heat up at his words, scooting so close to him you're basically on top of him, "doesn't taste good, fi." you whine, still taking a drink and giving it to him for the final time.

"i'll finish it off.'" he responds, bringing it back to his mouth for a couple seconds, giving up after about ten, "never mind. shitty champagne."

you bring your eyes up to him, open mouth resting on his shoulder, head spinning from the joint and the champagne, "wanna go find something better?" he asks, using his hands to get himself up, eyes still looking down at you.

felix shoots his hand out to let you take them, helping get you up, he notices the way you stumble, you were never one to stumble, "heels too high, love?"

your eyes furrow and look down at your legs, confused why they feel as if they aren't there, "don't feel good." letting go of his sweaty hands you fall back down, laying your head on the grass. the cool dew of the night seeming to cool you off.

your body is buzzing, trying to reach your hand back out for him but unable to, you can't move anything. you feel so tired, so absolutely tired.

he gets down on his knees and looks down at you, "gonna go get water." you watch him and nod, eyes following his movements as he walks about five feet away from you, he stumbles too, feet tripping over each other before he sits down too.

felix looks back at you and tries to stand back up, he can't, he's struggling, "fi!" you cry, not knowing what was happening.

"i'm coming, love." he brings his fore arms out in front of him, knees moving in rhythm to get him where he belongs, with you. he's crawling to you. crawling toward your numb body, head racing as he stops to take a break. heavy breaths laboring as his chest heaves.

he crawls for a couple inches, and then stops.

crawls.

stops.

this goes on for what feels like ever, before he reaches you. resting his head near yours, you had moved to lay on your stomach, "head hurts, fi." you try to scoot near him, hand laying on his back, "so tired."

your eyes flutter, so do felix's, bringing his lips up to your forehead, "let's sleep." he mutters, body going limp next to you, "the stars, they're so pretty."

you don't respond, just stare at him before closing your eyes.

after a moment his eyes close too, entering what you both thought would be a deep sleep. closing your eyes with the innocent idea you'd wake up in each others arms with a nasty hang over, the innocent idea you'd have the rest of your lives together.

the next morning they found you two unresponsive, finding you with scrams and cries. whispers from those who had spent the night, packing their belongings and leaving immediately.

venetia would be seen sitting by your bodies, mourning for her best friend and her brother, before her mother would come sit next to her in a black veil, signaling her mourning, with a comforting hand, "it's what he would want, to leave the earth with her."

it's what he would want, to leave the earth with her.

where the world was empty - save you and i

#felix catton #felix catton fanfiction #felix catton x reader #felix catton angst #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton imagine #jacob elordi fanfiction #jacob elordi x reader

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phoward89 · 1 month

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Based on this ask

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, masterbation (m & f), p in v (alluded to), Dark!Coriolanus, Young Politician!Coriolanus, Secretary!Reader

This one got away from me so it's a bit long. Whoops...

You're at your desk, logging into your computer to start the day whenever the door to the office opens and in walks your boss. Senator Coriolanus Snow. One of the youngest Head Gamemakers and Senators in the history of Panem. He's only 24 years old and he's already so successful.

Crazy, right?

Your older brother was in the same graduating class as him at the Academy. Rein was a slacker that wasn't in the top 24 while Coryo- uh Coriolanus- was the top student, won the Plinth prize, and even did a short stint as a Peacekeeper to serve the greater good of the country (like his father General Crassus Snow did before him) before attending the University as a double major in Political Science and Military Strategies. Oh and while attending the University he interned under Dr. Gaul, became an Assistant Gamemaker, and even became the Head Gamemaker himself when Dr. Gaul died in a tragic lab accident involving her mutts.

And he did all of that by age 20.

Age 20!

After graduating from the Academy, Rein was shoved into the Peacekeepers by your father, retired Colonel Javanis Halvir. Your brother was sent to 8 and he complained in all of his letters about it. Once he was eligible to take the Officer's Aptitude Exam, your father had ordered him to sign up. So, Rein took the test and became an officer. He got assigned to PK Base D-12.

And that's what your older brother accomplished by 20. Oh and he also knocked up a local barmaid from the Hobb, causing your father to have a stroke. Your mother found it very comical.

And then both of your parents told you that you needed to redeem the family name, blah blah blah, and pushed you to be the top student in the Academy. So, of course you ended up in the top 24. And you mentored a tribute, a 17 year old boy from 7, that won. He was very proficient with an ax. You didn't have to do too much mentoring, he basically just hacked everybody to bits…

But you still won the Plinth Prize anyways. And during the ceremony for the prize, instead of Strabo Plinth handing you over the Plinth Prize it was his heir instead.

Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow.

After handing you the prize he had asked you to have a glass of posca with him, causing your mother to glare angrily at the interaction. Your father on the other hand was ecstatic that Coryo-uh Coriolanus- wanted to talk to you. He served under General Snow in 12; thought that Coriolanus was a man cut from the same cloth as his father.

Anyways, once you and Coriolanus Snow got to talking he admitted that he was going into politics and would need a personal secretary; an assistant per say to help him with his day to day tasks such as scheduling meetings, etc. and much to your surprise, he offered you the job.

That was a couple of years ago.

So, yes, that's how you got your job. And you really liked your job. It wasn't that hard to do plus it made you feel important that such an accomplished and powerful man trusted you to manage his life.

If you only knew that Coriolanus, who's been insisting that you call him Coryo for roughly a year now, has been lusting after you since he saw you in a cute dress that hugged your body just right when he presented you the Plinth Prize 2 years ago. Also, your boss is a dark soul. A cold man. But he does have a soft spot for you.

And only for you.

Which is why he greets you with a wide, manic smile that makes the corners of his baby blues crinkle. “Good morning, Y/N.” The platinum blonde senator says while crossing the room, heading to your desk.

“Good morning, Senator Snow.” You politely smile, pulling up the excel document in order to print out the day's schedule for your boss. And talk about your boss, he's holding a bouquet of white roses in one hand and a tray of coffee along with a pastry bag in the other as he stops at your desk.

Coriolanus sets everything down, only to grab the vase on the corner of your desk and bring it over to the trash. All the while saying, “I brought you some fresh roses, courtesy of Grandma’am’s rooftop garden, to replace the wilted ones on your desk.”

The blonde politician did that every Monday for you. He brought fresh flowers for your office vase. A vase he gifted you for your one year work anniversary last year.

Dumping the contents of the vase out in the trash can, Coriolanus gestured to the coffees and brown paper bag on your desk, only to explain, “The barista at the coffee shop got my order wrong, so I had to do a second order, but since I already paid for the wrong order I figured I'd give it to you.”

“Oh, thank you, Coriolanus, Sir.” You simply smiled, grateful for the free coffee. You were going to put a pot on in the break room as soon as you printed out Snow's schedule, but getting an unexpected cup of coffee’s always nice.

Perhaps you'll pay it forward and treat him to coffee tomorrow. The gods know that you have his coffee order memorized.

It's black, just like his soul, with a couple of sugar packets. Not Splenda, not Sweet ‘n’ Low, not Truvia, but real sugar made from sugar cane grown down in 11. Oh and he always has a chocolate filled croissant too.

You also know his afternoon tea order by heart along with his dinner orders from a handful of takeout places he prefers. Hell, you even know his liquor order for after hours meetings. But it's your duty to know those things since, after all, you're his personal secretary.

Literally his right hand woman.

“Darling, how many times have I told you to, please, call me Coryo.” Your boss shook his head at you while bringing the empty vase to the nearby bathroom to fill up with water.

It must've been at least a hundred times by now, maybe more. But it felt weird to you calling your boss such a personal sounding nickname. You're both professional adults, if you call him by his name it should be Coriolanus. If not then you'll just refer to him as his title, since he's your boss.

“You know I can't call you Coryo, Coriolanus. It's not proper; you're my boss.” You remind the senator, who's dressed to the nines today in a perfectly tailored three piece black suit- complete with a white dress shirt and striped tie, as he walks out of the bathroom and back into your foyer office with the filled up vase in hand.

A vase that looked dwarfed by his large grip. “We've known each other for a couple of years now, darling. I'd like to think of us as being on friendly terms, wouldn't you?” Coriolanus asked, placing the vase down on your desk and arranging the flowers in them for you.

You clicked the print button on your computer, only to swivel your chair around to reach the ink jet printer behind you. “Yes, we're friendly, but you're still my boss.”

“And as your boss I'm now ordering you to call me Coryo.” He told you, pulling out the coffee that was yours, due to error, and setting it on your desk while you watched the printer spit out the paper with his daily schedule on it.

“Fine, I'll call you Coryo.” You gave in, grabbing the paper and swiveling back around to face your him.

“I got two croissants since I had to get my order remade, so it looks like you'll be getting one this morning, darling.” Coryo told you, opening up the paper bag and pulling out a pastry. He grabbed a napkin that was stuffed into the drink carrier and put it on your desk, next to your coffee, before depositing your croissant on it.

“Thank you.” You simply smile. Handing him over his schedule, you announce, “Here's your schedule for today.”

The platinum blonde gives you a closed lip smile and nods before stretching his hand out for the paper. “You've got a dinner meeting tonight at 7 o’clock sharp with a political sponsor.” You reminded him, your fingertips brushing, while he grabs the outstretched paper from you.

Briefly glancing over the paper in his hand, he asked, “Would you like to go with me?”

“What?”

“Dinner at 7 o’clock sharp. Would you like to go with me?”

Shaking your head, you politely decline his offer. “Oh no, I'm sorry, Coryo, Sir, but I can't go.”

“Why not? Got a boyfriend or something occupying your time?” The senator sharply asks, his baritone heavy with a tingle of jealousy.

Coriolanus prayed to every God he never believed in that you're single. If not, well he's going to go whack some unlucky bastard to free you up to be his girl. He's decided that he's tired of pinning over you; stalking you.

Coryo's ready to take things to the next level. He's ready to fucking corrupt you; make you his forever. He's going to be announcing his bid for the presidential runoff, the first step in becoming one of two candidates to face off for the presidency, and it's time for him to get into a relationship.

A public relationship.

And you're perfect for that. Coriolanus knows, without a doubt, that you'll make a perfect First Lady. That your beauty and slight innocence will be the perfect contrast to his cold, stoic, but regal stature. That you're a perfect fit for him.

Plus he's getting tired of paying for whores. Whores that he has to keep disposing of so that they can't blackmail him about his sexual appetite. Coriolanus prides himself of being from one of the founding families of Panem, from the Old Guard. He even runs on the Old Guard ticket; he can't have some disgruntled whore tarnishing his reputation.

It'd be much cheaper and easier to just get you into bed; fuck you in all the ways that he likes.

But he also has a soft spot for you. Coryo likes you. Okay, that's a lie. He's obsessed with you in such a dark, sick way that if he sees a man smile at you or get too close to you then he's killing that man. Yea, Senator Snow’s in love with you, or at least in his head he's in love with you.

It's more like an obsession.

“No.” You shook your head. “I don't have a boyfriend.” Well, you had an on-again, off-again thing going on with your neighbor across the hall from you, but since it's currently off Coryo doesn't need to know about that.

Coriolanus swore that he heard the heavens singing hymns upon hearing that you're single. Yes, now’s the perfect time for him to make you his.

“Then I'll have my driver pick you up for dinner tonight. Wear something nice.”

Once again, you decline him invitation. “You're my boss, I'm sorry, but I can't go with you tonight.”

Usually Coriolanus appreciates your professionalism and dedication to your job, but right now he loathes it. Why can't you just accept that he's taking you to his dinner meeting tonight. That he's showing you off on his arm for the entire Capitol to see.

Leaning against your desk, he gives you a piercing look with his icy eyes and tells you, “It's a very important business dinner with a political sponsor, Y/N, and you're my assistant.” A calculating look crosses the politician's face as he adds in, “It's actually, you might say, very vital that you attend dinner with me tonight.”

Well…

When he puts it that way.

“Okay, I'll go to dinner with you tonight.” You relent, causing a smug grin to appear on Coryo's face.

“Good.” Coryo grins, making his face light up like sunshine, as he grabs his coffee and pastry bag. “Since dinner's at 7, I'll have my driver pick you up at 6:45. That'll leave a 15 minute window to get to the restaurant.” The platinum blonde told you the plan before pivoting on his heel and striding over to his office. Pausing at his door, with his large hand hovering over the knob, he looked over his shoulder and told you, “Wear either a red or black dress, but preferably red.”, before opening up the door and disappearing inside of his office.

Oh, how did you get into this mess?

Coriolanus sat at his mahogany desk, going over documents for various bills that he could either sponsor or just straight up deny. Honestly, most of the shit that got dumped on his desk he denied. If it didn't pertain to the Capitol and the Capitolites then he just shoved the document in his shredder and made a note to vote no, well in the Senate it was ‘nah’, on it.

And Senator Snow was notorious for voting nah on everything.

As he sat in his office going over mindless matters, he couldn't help but wonder about what you'd look like all dolled up for dinner tonight. He knew that you had a few nice cocktail dresses to pick from, but the mystery of whether you'd listen to him and wear something black or preferably red versus another color altogether made his head spin a mile a minute. He hopes that you're a good little secretary and listen to him about the dress.

But what he really can't help fantasizing about is what you'll be wearing underneath your dress. He can't help picturing you in a bra and panty set that hugs your body in the right ways. The senator's daydreaming about delicate lace molded against your most private parts, that are hidden away only for your lover to see.

And just thinking about becoming your lover, stripping you out of not just your dress, but your soft, delicate lingerie has his pants growing tighter. So tight, in fact, that it was downright uncomfortable.

Letting out a barely audible groan, the platinum blonde stood up from his desk and went over to his door. For just a moment, he leaned his forehead against it and debated on whether or not to call you into his office; have you on your knees underneath his desk for him. But then he decided against it; locked his door instead and went over to his desk chair to take care of himself.

You're not some district whore, you deserve to be properly wined and dined first before he has you on your knees for him- choking on his cock with tears and mascara messily running down your cheeks.

Oh, just the thought of you with your pretty mouth around his large cock had said cock twitching in his pants.

Quickly, Coriolanus makes his way over to the small sofa that's in the corner of his office. He makes quick work of undoing his belt, only to tug his pants and boxer briefs down just enough for his cock to spring free before sitting on the sofa. Spitting in his hand, he leans back into the sofa and wraps his large hand around his cock.

He feels his dick throbbing angrily in his cold hand while sliding his thumb over his tip’s leaky slit. The platinum blonde bites back a moan, and closes his eyes- pretending that it's your hand wrapped around his shaft and your thumb teasing his cockhead. Fuck, how he craves your touch. Using his thumb to spread precum over his tip and down the length of his dick, he started to move his fist up and down in measured glides.

Coriolanus knows he should just rub one out as quick as possible since he's at work, but the fact that you- the object of all his fantasies- is right outside won't let him. Being in such close proximity to you feeds his fantasies and he has to have a proper handjob session.

Coriolanus has to indulge in the make believe notion that you're the one pumping his cock up and down, twisting your wrist slightly every now and then. That it's you playing with his cum heavy balls, making his toes curl in his socks and black floor shines, as the fist around his cock starts to slightly pick up pace.

Gods, he's getting lost in his fantasy of you pleasuring him with your hands, hell even your mouth- that he's sure will be aching from his cock unhinging your jaw when you suck him off- that the loud ringing of his office phone startles him.

“Goddamnit! Can't I fuck my fist in peace?” Coriolanus grumbled.

He's angry that his fantasy was broken; that he has to fist his cock faster than he wanted to.

The phone continued to ring off the hook as he furiously moved his hand up and down his dick. He bit his lip and bucked his hips, spurting his cum into his left hand. The one that he was using on his balls before the damn phone started ringing like crazy.

Letting out an aggravated sigh, he grabbed a few tissues from the box on the side table next to him and wiped off his hand. Standing up to right his boxer briefs and pants, he heard your heels echo down the hall. Great, just great, now you're on your way to his office because the phone’s ringing off the hook.

Quickly, Coriolanus tosses the tissues into the wastebin. Rushing to his desk, he grabs the phone, only to slam it down. Hard.

Hey, he made the excessive ringing stop. Whoever called should just stick to the after 3 rings, hang up and try again later rule. Coriolanus has more important things to do than listen to a phone ring endlessly.

More important things: like jacking off to daydreams and fantasies about his secretary.

His secretary that's knocking on his door and asking him if he's alright.

“I'm fine, my darling.” Coriolanus called out to you while crossing his office. He unlocked his door and opened it, only to give you a manipulative smile while feeding you the bullshit lie of, “I just zoned out reading a grant proposal and didn't realize the phone was ringing.”

“Are you sure you're alright?” You asked, only to follow it up with the offer of, “I can always read some of those grant proposals and take notes on them for you, if you want. That way you won't get so bored to death reading them that you miss important phone calls.”

“You'd do that, for me?” Coriolanus asked, feeling a bit touched by your offer. Oh, how he thinks you're an absolute sweetheart.

A perfect angel sent to him from the Lord above. And he's your golden angel too.

Lucifer, that is.

“Of course, Coryo. It's my job to help you with paperwork.”

And before another word could be shared between you two, his phone started ringing. Again.

“Oh, I'll leave you to your call. Just put whatever you want me to read for you on my desk later.”

“I will, darling.” Coriolanus smiles at you, watching you walk away before closing his door.

Storming over to his phone, he sees that the video option light is blinking. Sitting down, he answered the phone and pressed the button to turn on his video call screen. As soon as the face of the half-assed idiot that was one of the Junior Gamemakers appeared on the screen he immediately felt a migraine coming on.

“Senator Snow, are you neglecting Head Gamemaker duties in favor of politics? You never answered my call.” The redhead man with a bad combover had the audacity to tell his boss via the phone screen.

Poor soul must not value his life…

“There’s 3 fucking months before the games, that I'm designing, so there's no damn reason for you to call me and let the phone ring off the hook. Are you incompetent? If you had the common sense that God gave a mule the. You'd know I was busy with other matters and couldn't answer your ridiculous call.” Coriolanus seethed in a long winded rant. His veins were protruding from his pale neck; a red vein was angrily popping in his forehead too. But it was his eyes that held so much hate in their icy orbs.

The man on the phone screen, despite being a few years older then Senator Snow, was a complete incompetent idiot in Coriolanus' opinion. Age certainly didn't make him any wiser.

“I'm a very busy man; next time you pester me I'll have you thrown into a tank full of rabid mutts.” Coriolanus promised the Junior Gamemaker before hanging up, hard, on him.

Coriolanus pinches the bridge of his nose and slumps into his overstuffed leather office chair. Letting out a heavy sigh, he rubs his temples and tries to calm down by daydreaming about dinner with you tonight.

Your day went on as it usually does. You took calls and made appointments for Senator Snow. You also read and typed up some cliff notes for a few bills that Coryo left for you before he took off for lunch. He didn't say where he was going and you didn't ask.

When he came back from a power lunch, you knew he went somewhere for drinks cause you could smell a hint of whiskey radiating from his pores, he greeted you with a simple thin lipped smile and placed a container of food on your desk. He didn't tell you to take your lunch break, but the way he wordlessly moved his baby blues between you and the doggie bag he just dumped on your desk was more than enough to give you a hint that he wanted you to eat. So, you simply thanked him, before handing him some notes and taking the food he got you to the break room.

After lunch, the remainder of your day was mundane. Or at least it was until Coryo emerged from his office and strutted over to your desk. You didn't pay him any mind, figuring that he prolly just wanted the other bills back along with the notes you just finished up on them. So, when he perches himself on the corner of your desk, all the while suggesting, “Darling, why don't you leave early. You can pamper yourself with, say, a rosewater bubble bath before tonight's dinner. Yea?”, you're taken aback.

You're in total shock.

Your nose scrunched up, reminding Coriolanus of a little bunny rabbit, as you asked incredulously, “Excuse me, Senator Snow? You're sending me home early?” Softly, you trailed off, “To take a bubble bath…”, while tilting up a baffled arched eyebrow.

“A rosewater bubble bath.” The regal platinum man corrected with a long finger high up in the air. Leaning slightly, so that he towers over you as you sit behind your desk (and gets a nice little peek down your v-neck blouse at your modest cleavage), he tells you, “You're such a dedicated employee; I think you deserve to go home early and pamper yourself before I drag you out to a dinner with my potential political sponsor.”

And what he wasn't telling you was that Mr. Feathersworth was bringing his mistress along. Oh yea… So, technically, it's a couples dinner.

Really? He wants you to relax and pamper yourself before a dinner full of political talk? Wow. You weren't expecting that from your boss.

“My bath and beauty products are actually rose-vanilla scented, Coryo, not rosewater.” You told him, before you could even think better of it.

A smirk appears on Coryo's face and desire briefly flashed in his cerulean eyes. The imposing man favored roses; in fact it was his signature, so that fact that you used rose-vanilla scented bath and beauty products had his cold, black heart beating with warmth, life, and daresay love for you.

“Darling, you deserve to pamper yourself in that rose-vanilla bubble bath. We'll be in for quite a long evening; you don't want to be tense beforehand, now so you?”

Well…

When he puts it that way.

Sighing slightly, you gave in with, “Fine, I'll leave early and pamper myself with a bubble bath.”

“Rose-vanilla bubble bath.” Coriolanus corrected with a ghost of a smile tracing his lush lips. Patting your cheek, he tells you, “Go ahead and go, darling. I'll be fine here for a few more hours.”, before pushing himself off of your desk.

“Thank you. I'll see you later for that political dinner.” You genuinely smiled, grabbing your bag out from under your desk and shouldering it before standing up.

“Remember, my driver will be by at 6:45 sharp.”

“Oh, that's right. You need-” You began, intending to give Senator Snow your address, only to be cut off by a raised hand. “I have your address in my employee files, Y/N.” His baritone hung thickly in the air like honey stuck on a honeycomb; slowly dripping down, as he ordered, “Go home and pamper yourself; get all dolled up in something red, my darling rose.”

As you sat neck deep in your tub, surrounded by bubbles, thoughts of your boss floated around your head. You never really thought much about him, or at least you didn't til now. Yes, you always thought that he was easy on the eyes- platinum hair (you always secretly wondered if the carpet matches the drapes), striking crystal blue eyes, a prominent nose, sharp jawline, tall and lanky build. But you never truly fixated your attention on his looks, or at least until now that is.

You can't explain it, but the interaction you had with him before leaving the office had your blood racing. You're flustered with dirty thoughts. Things that you've never truly let yourself imagine about Senator Coriolanus Snow.

But now…

Well, now you find yourself closing your eyes and thinking about your boss while relaxing in your bath; trailing hand over your breasts while your other hand’s rubbing your clit; dipping two fingers in and out of your pussy.

It's best to get this out of your system now, before you're stuck going to dinner with him tonight.

“Coriolanus, I was expecting your driver to pick me up.” You gasp, hand tightly gripping the doorknob of your open door, as you're shocked by the sight of the tall platinum blonde standing in front of you- dressed impeccably in a deep crimson suit with a single red rose in his hand.

“Bentley drove me here.” Coriolanus informed you. “Now, what sort of gentleman would I be if I didn't walk up to your door to get you our dinner date?” He smirks, offering you the rose.

Your eyes widen at his words. “Dinner date…but I thought this was a professional dinner with a potential political backer, Senator Snow.” You tell him as you shakily take the offered rose from his large, outstretched hand.

“Yes, well, my darling, Mr. Feathersworth informed me that he's bringing along his mistress to Mizuna’s so I don't see why we can't mix some business with pleasure as well.”

Before you could utter a word, the door right across the hall and behind Coriolanus opened; out walked your on-off neighbor ex. Bastard was dressed like he's going out somewhere (or going out with someone). His sea-green eyes look over at you and lock Coriolanus back a bit curiously: portraying that he can't believe you're all dolled up and going out with someone so regal looking.

Deciding that you didn't like the look on your ex’s face, you put your hand on Coriolanus' label and press a quick kiss to his lips before telling him, “Let me put up this rose, Coryo, and then you can take me on our date.”

Coryo grabbed your face in one of his hands and kissed you again, this time his lips searing and hungry, before running his hand over your cheekbone and darkly smirking, “You can just take it along with us, darling. I'm taking you home with me tonight; it'd be such a shame for you to leave your rose alone on a side table all night.”

“You're taking me home with you?” You asked, finding this information entirely new to you.

At least your bronze haired ex wasn't standing behind Coryo; gawking at you anymore.

Pulling you out of your apartment and locking your doorknob, only to slam the door shut, he bluntly tells you, “I’d be a fool not to, Y/N, and, frankly, I'm anything, but a fool.” Coryo smoothly tell you while leading you down the hallway; towards the elevator bank.

And of course when you reach the elevator your ex is just stepping into it. Great, now you're going to be riding in an elevator with your on-off neighbor ex and your boss/sudden new fling.

Oh boy…

“After you, darling.” Coryo sweetly tells you, guiding you into the metal box while following right behind you.

You feel your ex’s eyes on you, burning a hole into the side of your face, as Coriolanus hits the buttons to both close the door and go to the lobby.

“Should've known you'd be cozy with Senator Snow, considering you're his personal secretary.” Flew out of your ex’s mouth as soon as he saw Coryo's large hand come to rest on the small of your back.

“Odysseus…” You chastise, nearly hissing at him.

Coriolanus snapped his head around so fast, it was as if it was going to spin off exorcist style, and narrowed his eyes at the bronze haired man next to you. “I can have you turned into an Avox for slander against Miss Y/N, so I’d mind that useless tongue of yours if I were you.”

“Coryo, calm down. My neighbor-”

“Ex” Odysseus supplied at the same time you uttered the word neighbor, causing Coriolanus’ face to turn into hardened stone.

“She doesn't belong to you anymore, Odysseus. My darling seems to have gotten tired of settling for beans and has upgraded to the filet mignon.” The senator told your ex in a smooth, but eerily cold tone. “You ought to consider yourself lucky that I won't be calling for your tongue, but I'm sure I'm we can agree to you not bothering my sweet girl anymore, can't we, Mister-”

“Odair. Name's Odysseus Odair, Senator Snow.” Your ex shot out, his voice fake and sugary, as he played with fire.

Snow melts, but fish fry. And unfortunately for Odysseus Odair he'd learn that the hard way after Senator Coriolanus Snow gets him exhiled to District 4 for the crimes of slander. Coriolanus' cold ass gives Poseidon Odair, Odysseus’ father, an ultimatum- either sign over his assets, investments, and company over to him and go into exhiled on 4 with his son or his son would be turned into an Avox for slander against you, the senator's personal secretary and girlfriend.

Coriolanus Snow was a cold ass to everyone except for you. Something that you'd come to discover in time. But right now it's not important.

No, right now what's important is keeping the senator from tearing your ex apart limb by limb.

Sensing that Coryo was starting to unravel (something that you've never seen and, frankly, didn't want to) you rubbed his shoulder while telling him, “Coryo, please, just let it go. You don't want to be in a bad mood before dinner with your political backer, do you?”

Coriolanus’ jaw twitched for a moment before he gave you a slight smile, “Of course, darling.”

Odysseus found Senator Snow's demanear changing into sweet and loving for you at the drop of a hat very alarming. Honestly, he thought it was downright scary that Snow went from menacing one minute to practically cooing at you the next.

As soon as the elevator came to a stop and the doors dinged open, your ex practically ran out of them. It made Coryo chuckle.

You and Coryo walked out of the elevator together, only to cross the lobby and head out of the building towards his car. His driver, Bentley, was standing by the black luxury sedan that was parked in front of the curb. Upon seeing you with the senator, he quickly opened the back door. You thanked him and let Coryo help you into the backseat.

“Oh, darling, I'm so sorry for not telling you earlier, but you look truly beautiful in your red dress.” Coryo told you, once he was settled in the back seat next to you.

“Thank you, Coryo. You look handsome yourself.” You replied with a smile as the driver took his place behind the wheel and pull the car away from your building.

“And tonight we'll make quite the debate as a stunning political couple.” The platinum blonde confidently told you as you rode to the high end restaurant the meeting with major political endorser Mr. Feathersworth, and his mistress, was taking place at.

Tonight is only the first of many spent at Coryo's side. It's safe to say that you're Senator Snow's darling sectary; that he has a soft spot for you. After all, he charmed you into becoming his girlfriend with the guise of attending a political dinner with him for work related purposes.

But you'd accept that dinner invitation again and again no matter what universe you're in because that dinner ended with Coryo fucking you in the backseat of his car. The poor driver nearly drove the car off a bridge and into the opposite lane of traffic he was so startled by what his boss and you were doing. Yes, the two of you still were clothed (for the most part) but Bentley knew that if he looked into the rearview mirror and saw something he wasn't supposed to then Snow would have his eyeballs pickled in a jar (literally!). And after fucking in the backseat of his car, a life was created with Coryo and you never left his side.

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