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luveline · 7 days

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Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll

ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k

Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand?

But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.

Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really.

“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness.

“I’m thinking.”

“Aren’t you always?”

“About you.”

“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.”

“You’re truly humble.”

His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again.

Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

“Fine.”

You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow.

“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.”

“I’m not traumatised.”

“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.”

He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important.

Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen.

You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?”

He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.”

“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.”

“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed.

“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.”

“What did he say to you?”

You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.”

“Did he call you that?”

“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice.

“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.”

“You’re flirting with me.”

“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours.

He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession.

“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says.

You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go.

“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.”

“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.”

Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.”

The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating.

#spencer and bombshell reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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holllandtrash · 6 months

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say don't go | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

based off of taylor swift's 'stay don't go' why'd you have to lead me on? why'd you have to twist the knife? walk away and leave me bleedin'

word count: 5.2k tags/warnings: slight angst, mentions of being disloyal, this is kinda sad, mention of smut i guess but blink and you miss it

You weren’t one to let your past haunt you. It was the past for a reason, it belonged behind you, all you could do was grow into a better version of yourself.

But what the hell were you supposed to do when Charles showed up at your door after six months of silence?

It was a week into December and you were reluctantly putting up Christmas decorations because you were tired of the comments your friends made, telling you to get into the holiday spirit. Now you had the silver tinsel gripped in your hand as Charles stood on your front step, light flurries landing on his coat only to melt immediately after.

It was the middle of the day and you lived in a crowded area, but passersby on the sidewalk and those driving past had no idea there was a Ferrari driver only metres away from them.

But no one would guess that Charles Leclerc would be travelling to Bristol during his holidays.

“What? Were you in the neighbourhood?” You asked, flicking the tinsel off of your hand and shaking off any remnants. You watched it fall to the floor before looking up, “Felt like stopping by?”

“Can I come in?” Charles asked, glancing behind you. Was he looking to see if you had company? If you had moved on? Regardless of what, or who, he was looking for, his shoulders relaxed when he could tell you were alone. All that was behind you was cardboard boxes labelled Christmas.

“Give me three good reasons why I shouldn't shut the door in your face,” your demand was laced with your usual sweet tone, the same one that always intimated Charles because he never knew what to make of it. Never once did you raise your voice, you never yelled, never showed signs of anger. Even when you were annoyed, you always sounded calm.

He sucked in a breath, ��Well, it’s cold out.” He chuckled, but when you didn’t see any humour in his words he just nodded and moved on. “I was, in fact, in the neighbourhood- well I was in London, just figured I’d make a quick trip out west.”

Those weren’t good enough reasons and he knew it. You moved to grab the door and Charles reacted by holding his hand out to stop it from shutting, eyes trained on yours.

His cheeks were red, not accustomed to the British winters. He wasn’t wearing mitts and you could see how his hands had responded to the dry air by cracking at the knuckles. His lips trembled, not because he was nervous but because this was probably the coldest his body temperature had dropped to in a long time.

Which had you questioning how long he had been standing outside your door before finally knocking.

“There’s some things I’ve been meaning to say for a while now,” Charles spoke softly and you could see his breath with each word. “And you don’t need to say anything, but I’d love it if you’d listen.”

Maybe you felt bad that he was cold. Maybe you were curious as to what he had to say to you after so long. Maybe part of you still missed him and if these were the last few minutes you’d get with him, you weren’t going to let them pass.

Whatever the reason, you held the door open and he stepped inside. You watched as he ran his fingers through his hair and slid his coat off, hanging it on the empty hook on the wall. Your eyes darted down to the shoes he wore and Charles recognized that look, knowing better than to walk any further with his shoes on. He smiled, sort of, remembering the first time you asked him to take his shoes off when he entered your apartment.

If this was six months ago, you would have had slippers waiting for him to put on, but instead Charles was left to just his socks. You, though, seemed quite cozy. The matching sweats and jumper was only a shade darker than the slippers you wore and Charles almost asked where you purchased the set from, but he held his tongue because now wasn’t the time for casual conversation.

“Tea?” You offered, glancing at the kettle sitting on the stove. It had started whistling only minutes before he showed up but you hadn’t had a second to pour yourself a cup, too caught up in trying to untangle tinsel.

“Don’t want to put you out,” he shook his head, but when you manoeuvred past him to step into the kitchen, he didn’t stop you from grabbing two cups from the cupboard. He watched, standing at a cautious distance, as you made the two drinks the same way you always did.

Charles was brought back to the time he walked into his own flat in Monaco and you were kneeling on the counter, trying to find a suitable cup because all of his mugs were too big and bulky for tea. He held his hand to your back, worried you’d tip backwards, which you didn’t, but you were happy he was there to help you off the counter and greet you with a kiss.

“I’ll invest in new cups,” he said. He never did.

He didn’t like the silence that lingered between you now, probably the first time it ever bothered him, so he cleared his throat, “I like your new place.”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

He glanced around at the decor and spoke up again, “So you’ve been well?”

“You don’t need to pretend to care about how I've been.”

“I do care.”

The slow yet icy stare you gave him as you peered over your shoulder had Charles wondering if showing up here was a good idea. Instead of opening his mouth again, Charles looked at the decorations littered on the floor.

He was drawn towards the open box of ornaments that was placed on the couch. He noticed the tree in the corner, but all you had put up so far was a string of lights. Curious, he looked closer into the box and smiled to himself when he saw a vintage Formula 1 Ferrari, no bigger than the palm of his hand. He also spotted a racing helmet, but couldn’t recognize the driver it belonged to.

It wouldn’t have shocked him if the rest of this box was F1 inspired Christmas ornaments. Either ones you had purchased yourself or ones that were given to you as gifts.

Charles was always amazed at your knowledge of Formula 1. With your father being a retired driver himself, he shouldn’t have been surprised when you swept him under the rug during a trivia night. He admired your passion for the sport and maybe that’s why when he met you in the Ferrari garage, he wasn’t as quick to judge you like he was to everyone else who had purchased VIP passes for the weekend.

You were there for the sport, for the racing, you didn’t care who was driving the car, it wasn’t like you had favorite drivers.

You were raised to appreciate the history of the sport, the roots, the beginnings. Because of that, you were drawn to the older teams, the classics. Williams, McLaren and against your fathers wishes, Ferrari. So of course you wanted to experience the Ferrari hospitality during a race weekend at least once. To see the cars up close, to be in the garage, to see the race from an entirely new perspective.

It was Australia, the third race of the 2023 season. It was a race that Charles tried hard to forget due to his DNF at the first turn, but there were highlights he cherished before the incident.

He remembered standing in the garage before the first practice session and turning his head to flash a smile towards the VIP members standing at the back. He paid no attention to any of them in particular, but you stood out. The way you were so focused on the screen, taking in the Tech Talk segment that was playing on F1TV. You hadn’t even noticed Charles looking.

He saw you again the second day, closer to the front of the group before the start of FP3. You were wearing a white set, arms crossed over your chest with the headphones resting around your neck. You weren’t watching anything this time, instead you were in the middle of a conversation with a few of the mechanics.

At first, Charles thought they were flirting with you. But when you pointed at the rear wing, lines drawn across your forehead and eyebrows pinched together in studious fashion, Charles got the hint that this wasn’t just a casual conversation.

And then you held out your hand to introduce yourself, your once serious expression turning soft. You smiled at the mechanics as you shook both of their hands, seeming truly grateful to have met them.

Naturally, Charles was curious as to what sort of conversation just took place. He waited a few minutes before asking Mark, the one of two mechanics who seemed to be doing most of the talking.

“What was that about?” Charles asked.

Mark looked over his shoulder at you, but you were too engrossed in the screen again to notice the few sets on you.

“You don’t know who she is?” Mark asked.

“Should I?” Charles glanced your way. This time, you caught it.

You were also the first to look away.

“Damon Hill’s daughter,” Mark chuckled, probably in disbelief himself over who he just met. “She’s also got her masters in engineering. You know what she pointed out- the activation time for DRS is delayed compared to everyone else on the grid. I don’t know how she noticed it, but we’ll take a look at the data and if she’s onto something we’ll fix it before qualifying.”

Damon Hill’s daughter. The 1996 world champion. He had made a name for himself, known for being one of Schumacher's rivals during his prime. Charles knew he had kids, but didn’t know who they were.

He wanted to introduce himself, but he waited till after qualifying.

Was he a little taken aback when you seemed to be paying more attention to Carlos’ side of the garage at the end of the day? Maybe, but you had been watching him all weekend so far so he didn’t like the sudden change.

His P7 starting position was nothing to be overly proud of, but the congratulations was the first thing out of your mouth when he approached you.

“Thank you,” he nodded, suddenly feeling a bit more pride now than five minutes ago. He glanced at the car and then back at you, at the VIP lanyard resting over your chest, at your eyes that momentarily had him forgetting why he walked over to you in the first place.

You held your hand in the same polite manner you had with the mechanics and you introduced yourself as Charles shook it slowly.

“Damon Hill’s daughter,” he stated. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

You cocked your head slightly, “Is that a line?”

A blush crept up to his cheeks when he realised how flirtatious he sounded without trying to, “No- I mean,” he licked his lips. “I guess it could be but I wasn’t trying for that.”

“I only just graduated,” you answered his question, which wasn’t really a question. “Figured I’d watch a few races, check out a few teams before I decide if I want to dip my toe in the motorsports field.”

“Driver?” He asked, eyebrows raised even though Mark had told him what you studied. But you laughed and Charles was glad he brought up the idea of you getting behind the wheel. He could get used to your laugh.

“Engineer,” you corrected. “To be honest, I think IndyCar might be more my thing. Plus I know Arrow McLaren is looking to expand, hire a few more performance engineers. Mind if I use you as a reference? I saw those mechanics working on your DRS set up, don’t let them take the credit for catching the activation error.”

It was his turn to laugh. He liked your humour, something else he could get used to.

“Mark mentioned you pointed it out,” Charles nodded, unable to keep from smiling. He liked the way you spoke. Not only did he find your accent endearing, but he liked how sure you were of yourself. You knew your talents, you knew what you were capable of. He admired it.

“Good luck tomorrow,” you said, taking it upon yourself to end the conversation. You adjusted the purse over your shoulder and gave him a soft smile. “It was nice meeting you, Charles.”

And then you walked off, happily letting someone else from the team accompany you, probably an engineer. Probably someone who could match your expertise in a conversation.

Charles didn’t know when he’d see you again, but he took it upon himself to make sure it was sooner than later.

Following Australia, the drivers had a bit of a break. Almost an entire month.

It was only a few days into the break when he asked his manager to get Damon Hill’s contact information.

Confused was an understatement when your dad called you and said ‘Tell me why I just got an unsolicited text from Charles Leclerc asking if he could have your phone number’.

By the end of the week, Charles had flown you from Paris, where you resided at the time, to Nice. He was there at the airport to pick you up and drive you to Monaco.

You spent that entirety of the break together.

Charles was smitten. As were you.

But you were cautious.

You knew first hand that racing was at the top of his priority list. You weren’t about to get your hopes up and think that these few weeks meant anything. He just had time on his hands and you showed interest.

However, it was hard not to fall for Charles. He treated you well when you were together. He was easy to talk to. He made you feel safe, admired, wanted. He asked all the questions he could think of to get to know you. He made you breakfast in the morning, or at least he tried to. The mornings when you woke up to the smell of burnt eggs were just as entertaining. Plus you figured you could get used to the way he wrapped his arm around your waist as you took over. The kisses he peppered on your shoulder that tempted you towards pulling him back to the bedroom.

By the time the season picked up again for round 4 in Baku, you were so used to being around him that you had to tell yourself not to be hurt that he didn't suggest you go with him.

You and Charles did a lot of things during those few weeks, but never once did you label what you were. That conversation never came up. Neither did the exclusivity talk.

He still called. He texted you daily. He treated you like you were special, but racing came before a relationship. Even your dad reminded you of that. He told you not to dwell on it, that Charles would come to his senses when he felt secure with the team, with the season. He didn’t need the support of a girlfriend, he needed the support of his team.

And then Charles informed you he was flying you out to Miami. He wanted you to watch the race again. He wanted you there.

You didn’t accompany him to the track, but he greeted you with wide arms and the brightest grin when you showed up at the Ferrari garage. His hand stayed on your lower back for a bit as he showed you around, giving you a proper tour but when you came across Mark it was almost as if Charles passed you off.

He said ‘Here, chat with Mark for a bit, I’m sure you’ve got some opinions about the car’ and then he walked away.

You tried not to think too much about it, maybe he had obligations, media, signings, something. He wouldn’t fly you out to Miami and abandon you the first chance he got. He was a driver, he had priorities. You weren’t one of them, not yet.

It was a difficult situation to be in. When Charles gave you his attention, he gave you every ounce of it. But when he was gone, he was gone. Distant, on his phone, sometimes he quite literally disappeared like at the end of the day on Saturday and you were left in the Ferrari garage wondering where the hell he got off to.

But then he knocked on your hotel room door at a little after 10 and who were you to turn him away?

Charles pulled you towards the bed, dragging you with him as he laid on the mattress. He asked about your day between the kisses he left down your neck. You answered as best as you could, but when his hands found the button of your trousers, it became a little more difficult to collect your thoughts.

When he gave you his attention, he gave you every ounce of it.

You had forgotten all about his disappearances earlier. They didn’t matter, he was here now. His lips trailing every inch of your skin as your back curved off the bed. You tried to remind him that he had a race tomorrow, that you both could just go to sleep if he wanted but Charles only smirked and raised his face back to yours.

He hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with a ghost of a kiss, “Ma chérie, I’m not going to sleep until I hear you scream my name.”

He kissed the corner of your lips and then trailed down towards your ear, adding a quiet, “At least twice,” to the end of the original statement.

And Charles was true to his word. He had you seeing stars with just his tongue alone in a matter of minutes.

Charles worshipped you, he took care of you. In a short period of time, he came to know your body and how to get the reactions he desired. He loved seeing you come undone, loving being the one to bring you to the edge and watch you spill over.

Maybe it was a pride he was chasing, but you wouldn’t think of that possibility until it was too late.

When he climbed under the covers next to you at the end of the night, you could still make out the shape of his body, his gentle features, even in the dark. Your hand found his chest, sliding upwards until it wrapped around his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to him.

He traced his fingers over your cheek, pushing a strand of hair out of your face as he whispered, “Comment ai-je eu cette chance?” How did I get so lucky?

That did it for you.

You weren’t just smitten anymore. You were in love.

Another impromptu break after Miami meant you had a few more weeks with Charles before he had to give his attention back to racing. You didn’t spend it all in Monaco this time. After about a week, Charles suggested the two of you go back to your home. Back to Paris.

Paris with him was heavenly.

The rest of the world didn’t matter when it was just the two of you together. Your days were spent taking in the city, your evenings were spent in a variety of restaurants, lounges, anywhere he could spoil you, it seemed.

It was nearing your last few days before he had to leave when he suggested you take a midnight stroll. The weather was perfect, the streets wouldn’t be too busy. You had no reason to say no.

And there was something about walking the streets of Paris with Charles at night, holding his hand while he spun you under his arm beneath the glow of a street lamp. The Eiffel Tower was sparkling in the distance. Charles’ eyes lit up brighter than it.

There was something about him. About this moment. About the last few months. All of it led up to standing here with him now.

And you knew better, but that didn’t stop you.

“I love you.”

And just like that, you faded into madness. Slowly, silently, but it was inevitable.

Charles didn’t say anything. His lips parted like he wanted to, like he thought about it, only to ultimately lick his lips and inhale a sharp breath.

By saying I love you, you plunged a knife into your own chest, opening yourself up to vulnerability, but his silence only twisted it in deeper.

You backed up, hand dropping from his. Was that his doing or yours? He whispered your name, but only out of pity. He didn’t love you. He didn’t love you.

Suddenly Paris didn’t seem so heavenly.

Charles left that night. Maybe he thought you were asleep, but you heard the door swing on its hinges. You heard the wheels of his suitcase being dragged out into the hallway. You turned over in bed, despite knowing you’d find his side empty, but you didn’t think it would turn cold so fast.

A few days later, Charles was spotted walking into the paddock of the Monaco Grand Prix, but he wasn’t alone.

Next to him, the stunning Alexandra Saint Mleux. Even her name was beautiful.

You had heard whispers that Charles and her had a history, but you didn’t think anything of it. Why would you worry yourself with speculation when he was putting you on a pedestal when you were together?

He had a way of making you feel wanted, but you weren’t the only one who felt that way.

Did she know you two were together? That he was with you in Paris? Was he seeing both of you or did he run back to her the second you told him something he wasn’t ready to hear?

You tried to move on, really. There was no relationship for you to cling to, Charles never said you were exclusive. He just knew the right words to say to make you feel like you were.

You flew to Indianapolis for the Indy500. A rash decision, but the further away from Monaco the better. Your connections at Arrow McLaren gave you the chance to get a closer look at the inner workings of the team, had you momentarily forgetting about Charles. You wanted to be an engineer, not the girlfriend of a driver. You told yourself to get it together.

But then you returned home and seeing the slippers you had bought for Charles had you wondering why you couldn’t be both. You would have been both if he just said something, if he just told you he loved you.

You should have distanced yourself from Formula 1, at least for a little while. You should have turned down the invitation from a partnering brand of Ferrari, enticing you to come to Spain for the race. You should have flown back to the states, reconnect with Arrow McLaren.

Instead you found yourself in Barcelona. The entire time you were there you knew it was a mistake and if you couldn’t figure that out on your own, seeing Alexandra chat with some Ferrari team members below while you sat up above in the hospitality was a painful reminder.

Part of you considered talking to her. You wanted to know if she was in the same boat you were- and if she was clueless, maybe give her a heads up that Charles was going to say sweet nothings to her at night only to leave her in the dark.

But Alexandra wasn’t the one you needed to talk to.

Between practice and qualifying on Saturday, you made your way to the paddock knowing that’s where Charles would be. You walked past Alexandra chatting to someone a few motorhomes down, so you felt better knowing she wasn’t currently with him.

Luck would have it, you ran into Mark outside of Ferrari. He invited you in of course, always happy to chat about the sport with someone who appreciated it on the same level and you assured him you would, you just had to talk to Charles first.

You knocked on the door of his driver's room, not even sure what you were going to say. You were hurt, you were saddened, you were angry but you hadn't had time to think about what you would say to him when you were finally face to face again.

The door swung open and there he was. Shocked to see you, first of all, but not upset. You stood in the hallway and watched as Charles took a breath of relief, a sliver of a smile creeping up on his lips as he held the door open for you to walk in.

Your heart jolted at the idea that maybe, he still wanted you. The look he gave you was almost enough for you to forget he hadn’t said a word to you since you told him you loved him.

Almost.

You stepped in and leaned against the door after it shut, keeping a safe distance as he stood back against the massage table.

Your lips parted, but before you could get a word out, his phone started to ring. You both glanced at the contact, at who was trying to get a hold of him.

Alexandra.

You swallowed, waiting until he let it go to voicemail before your timid voice filled the room. “You love her?”

Maybe Charles didn’t know how to love anyone. You’d believe it, with the way he tensed the second the word passed through your lips. He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no, either.

“I can’t commit, Y/N.” He tried to say, like that made up for everything. Like that’s the answer you were looking for.

“No, you can, Charles, but not to me.” You stated, keeping your voice calm. You weren’t one to yell. Causing a scene wasn’t your thing. You were always so soft spoken. Soft spoken, but straight to the facts. “Were you seeing both of us at the same time?”

“She knows, if that's what you're wondering." Charles quickly slid that piece of information in there. “She found out- about us. Threatened to leave me if-”

“If you didn’t choose?” You raised your eyebrows. Once again, his silence spoke volume. “So did you make up your mind before or after Paris?”

Charles averted his gaze for a second, “I realised in Paris I couldn’t love you the way you loved me.”

“You probably realised that a lot earlier,” you pointed out.

Charles must have known you adored him. There was no way he didn’t see the way you looked at him, the way you worshipped him. He knew and still strung you along, making you think he could love you back if you were just patient.

“You didn’t need to lead me on as long as you did, Charles.”

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

I didn’t want to lose you, he says. Bringing light to the fact that he had you. You were his, in a sense. Despite never saying the words out loud.

But he was never yours.

“So I was there, for what?” You asked. “As a backup? In case things with Alexandra didn’t work out?”

Charles was intimated by how calm you were. He would have preferred if you yelled at him, if you fought with him. It would make it easier on both ends to put whatever this relationship was to rest. Instead, you were serene. You came here to talk, to get answers, you didn’t come here to form a divide.

Because if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t ready to let go. How could you let go when you hadn’t spoken? He hadn’t given you closure, he didn’t say I don’t love you he just…didn’t say anything.

You weren’t going to beg for him to come back, but in the far corners of your mind you were hoping that your appearance here would make him question his decision. You were banking on the idea that when he saw you, he’d remember what he saw in the first place when you met in Australia.

If he changed his mind right now, you’d put all of this behind you. You’d stay at his side, you’d be there for him, you’d be his for real this time.

If he, once again, said nothing, you’d go. You’d go and you’d stay gone.

“I loved you,” you whispered. The past tense striking Charles more than he thought it would, but he didn’t show it. Loved. You loved him, and you still could.

Thirty seconds passed. Then a minute. Almost two and the only thing that lingered between you was silence. Heavy, loud, painful silence.

You grabbed the handle of the door and decided enough time had gone on. You deserved better than this, than a man who couldn’t make a decision, than someone who played with your feelings because they couldn’t figure out their own.

The second you pulled the door back, your name fell from Charles’ lips. You were one step into the hall, halfway to gone, and he stopped you.

All he had to do was say don’t go. All he had to do was tell you he wanted you.

With your back still to the Ferrari driver, you waited for those next words but they never came. You knew they wouldn’t.

That was the last time you spoke to Charles. You knew how to stay true to your word too.

So why was he suddenly here, six months later, sitting on your couch and looking at you like he was waiting for you to say something first when you made it clear a long time ago if you were gone, you were gone.

Charles only took a sip of his tea before putting it on the coffee table. He then moved the box of Christmas ornaments, not liking the divide it put between you as if he wasn't the one to create the wedge in the first place.

You were stupid, to speak first, but you were tired of the silence. He came here for a reason and if he wasn’t going to tell you why in the next two minutes, you were going to send him back out into the snow.

“How’s Alexandra?” You asked, not that you were interested in knowing if he was happy or thriving in his relationship. You were, however, impressed to see that he could in fact commit, but you were right about that. He just didn’t want to commit to you.

“Do you care?” He asked in return.

You shook your head slightly, “I do not.”

Charles smiled at your honesty. Your gentle tone didn’t match the brutal truth.

“So let’s not talk about her,” Charles said and you nodded in agreement. He shifted in his spot, glancing at the decorations, the tea, really anything but you.

And you weren’t about to wait again, not if this was going to lead to the one thing your silence always led to.

You sucked in a breath, “Charles if you don’t tell me why you’re here…”

He nodded, knowing that this was all on him. He was lucky enough to even be allowed into your home, and he knew you were slowly regretting that decision the longer he just didn’t get to the point.

Charles lifted his head, eyes finally meeting yours. He even flinched, like he was trying to reach for your hand only to decide against it at the last second, relying on just his words for a change.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.”

Part 2 - now that we don’t talk

#charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 one shot #f1 fic #holllandtrash #say dont go #cl16 x reader #cl16

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vampcubus · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : kyojuro sure likes to stare, doesn't he? :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : sfw, gn!reader, pre-established friendship, background obamitsu meddling. :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 : 1.4k+

Kyojuro, bless his heart, is so hopelessly attracted to you in ways he’s never experienced.

Everything about you draws him in, from your striking beauty to your quick wit, how despite your snark you always treated others with compassion. You were fast friends, not that Kyojuro was particularly difficult to get along with. You’d even argue that such a person as him was impossible to dislike, at least without feeling guilty about it.

He was blunt, genuine, and brimming with so much enthusiasm it tended to unsettle some. But never you. You would look upon him with quiet acceptance, hanging onto his every word. You didn’t seem to mind his complete disregard for eye contact or his erratic conversational skills.

You just get him, he muses. And he’s never felt a kinship like that with anyone.

Kyojuro has always felt like he was moving faster than everyone else, both in mind and body. The man couldn’t sit still or shut up to save his life, or so the other Hashira would say – endearingly of course. No matter the sentiments his comrades held for him, none of them seemed to keep up quite as well as you did. Which is why he presumed you worked so well together.

He could blabber on about anything and have you following along just fine. Though after a few roundabout conversations ranging from swordplay to street food, he musters the confidence to ask if he talked too much for your taste.

You only quirk a brow and snort, “Pffft, of course not! I like listening to you talk.” and you see something shift in his gaze, the softest shade of pink tinting his round cheeks.

It’s around there when the staring starts.

It’s a subtle change at first, catching his wide-eyed gaze from across the training field. Feeling his eyes upon you as you shared meals together. Stumbling over your words when you realize for the first time that he’s actually looking you in the eye as you talk.

It’s a new and exhilarating feeling to be able to admire those honey-colored eyes fully fixated on you for a change. Too often you found yourself staring back. And the way he brightens when your eyes meet sends your fickle heart into pesky palpitations every time. You swore his pupils bled further into his golden-red irises every time he spotted you.

The idea of his eyes dilating at the mere sight of you endears you even more fiercely to him. As if such a thing was possible. You’re already attached at the hip, not to mention the dozens of joint missions you’ve taken.

His exuberance could be trying when your objective was to blend in, but his swordsmanship more than made up for it. He was incredibly good at taking the edge off when tensions were high, he was an emotional pillar of support, and you were honored to have his focus.

The beloved Flame Hashira was enthusiastic about many things, but you most of all it seemed. You’ve been told by several other Hashira that you were one of his favorite topics of conversation. The image of him gushing about you to other people is as embarrassing as it is flattering.

“Y/n is so easygoing, I cherish their company!”

“Did you know Y/n makes the best rice cakes?”

“Y/n is such a fierce swordsman, I am honored to fight at their side!”

“Y/n this, Y/n that. You’re all he talks about you know,” Iguro points a finger in your face one morning.

“So I’ve heard,” you hum, hand perched lazily on the hilt of your sword, though you’re unsure of precisely why he’s telling you this. Your eyes stray to Kaburamaru, who only flicks his tongue at you, leisurely slithering down Iguro’s shoulder from his coiled position around his neck.

You’ve always known the Serpent Hashira to be abrasive and confrontational, but the sudden interest in your relationship with Rengoku was uncharacteristic. Especially since he usually disregarded your presence unless he had something to criticize. You didn’t dislike him, but you wouldn’t say that you were close.

Did he know something you didn’t?

You try not to make assumptions based on the worries of others, but Kyojuro’s childhood friend approaching you out of the blue to tell you something like that? It makes you wonder just what sort of things Kyojuro has been saying about you to warrant such an interrogation.

Was Iguro trying to discern your intentions as a way of looking out for him? Perhaps your feelings for Kyojuro weren’t as internalized as you’d thought.

“Is this your way of saying you’ll snap me like a twig if I break his heart?” you ask, lips curling up into a sly grin, head cocked to one side.

Heterochromatic eyes blink in surprise, and then narrow.

“You catch on quick.”

“You can relax, Iguro. I won’t hurt him.”

“Few can be entirely sure of that. For your sake, I hope that’s the truth,” he waves you off, turning away in disinterest upon hearing your response.

The encounter leaves you with mixed feelings. Would Iguro have asked if he didn’t already know how Rengoku felt in return? It's an unsettling and gnawing feeling. Not the idea that your feelings could be returned, just the uncertainty of it all. If Iguro noticed it, why didn’t you?

“Iguro approached me earlier,” you say as you sit across from the flame-haired swordsman, currently having lunch at one of your favorite spots to eat.

“Did he now?” Kyojuro acknowledges, eyes still closed as he stuffs another bite of octopus into his mouth. His round cheeks puff out cutely, the image of a chipmunk with its cheeks full of nuts forming in your mind.

“He told me you talk about me a lot.”

“All good things of course!” he assures, seemingly unbothered by the news.

“That’s the thing,” you chuckle nervously, poking at your food with your chopsticks. Kyojuro’s eyes fluttered open, now focused on your fidgeting hands. “He seemed concerned that you had feelings for me beyond friendship.”

It’s silent for a moment, and you stuff food into your mouth to escape it, eyes focused on your plate. You can feel his gaze, but you’re too intimidated to meet it.

“Would that be a bad thing?” for once, Kyojuro sounds nervous.

It's a subtle strain in his tone that others who didn’t know him as well might have missed. But years of close proximity have made you perceptive to the almost invisible chinks in his armor. Kyojuro was heavily guarded for being such a friendly man, always eager to lend a hand or ear when others were in distress, but quick to clam up when it came to his own problems.

Your heartbeat skips, excited and terrified. Was that a confession? Were you reading too far into things? Was the question rhetorical? All these questions well up inside until you feel like you’ll burst.

You can’t help but let out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re so hard to read,” you lamented, nearly jumping out of your skin when his fingers brush yours from across the table.

“Perhaps If you looked at me, you’d have an easier time,” he laughs, and your heart already feels lighter at the joyous sound.

The anxiety in your tummy melts into giddiness, and you demurely tilt your head up to meet his eyes. They’re crinkled fondly, pupils large, and fully fixated on yours. His golden-red eyes consume yours, inspiring your fingers to twitch against his. You can only compare such an expression to a smitten puppy.

You suddenly feel silly for entertaining any doubts that the Flame Hashira was any less enamored than you were.

“To be completely honest, I have been interested in you romantically for quite some time now, and at a loss of how to contain such strong feelings,” he confessed, and suddenly a lot of things started making sense.

He stared at you so much because he liked you. He talked about you so much because he liked you. He let you tag along to missions he could have easily handled on his own because he liked you. Iguro approached you because he noticed.

“Then no, I don’t think that would be a bad thing at all.” You turn your hand with your palm facing upward to accept his own into your grasp.

Kyojuro’s smile widens, and he nearly shakes the entire restaurant with the volume of his declaration of, “WONDERFUL!”

“See, Obanai? I told you they just needed a little push!” Mitsuri gushes from across the restaurant, just her green eyes and the top of her head peeking over the menu.

#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader

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lqveharrington · 5 months

Text

Silver Roses & Fallen Roses

2: Capitol Zoo (masterlist for series)

summary: With the Games getting closer, Coriolanus must get his tribute to trust him. But, who knew that the Capitol Zoo would give your relationship with him issues.

pairing: young!Coriolnaus Snow x fem!reader

warnings: jealousy, coriolanus being manipulative, coriolanus hurts reader (on accident), death, mentions of death, mentions of blood, a little fluff, ANGST, grandma’am being protective, italics are flashbacks

word count: 5.2k+

a/n: this might be one of the longer pieces i’ve written in a while. this chapter is definitely a lot and it took so long to finish. things are starting to change within their relationship, and i will advise, it will go downhill from here.

Red. Rouge. The color could be and mean many things. It could be love, the color of the Academy uniform, or rage. It could be strength, revenge, or a shade of lipstick. But in this case, red meant jealousy.

You have always hated jealousy as a trait. It was never a pretty sight. In fact, you could only recount two times you were ever jealous in your life.

Once was two years ago, before you and Coriolanus were ever dating.

Funnily enough, you were jealous of Clemensia.

Dean Highbottom announced another research project that was worth 40% of your semester grade. Typically, you and Coriolanus were paired up together for assignments like these. However, you were given random pairings. You were happy when Highbottom pulled out your name and Sejanus’. It had been a while since you two worked together. Yet, when the next two names pulled out were Coriolanus and Clemensia, you felt an uneasy emotion stirring inside. One you have never felt before.

Everyone switched seats to be seated near their partners. Sadly, Sejanus sat far from you, causing you to gather your things to move. Within that same moment, Clemensia slid into the seat you once occupied, adding another strike to the emotion settling in you.

“Y/N,” Sejanus smiled at you, letting you take your seat. “I’m relieved I got to be partners with you.”

“You and me both.” You return the smile, slipping a clean sheet of paper out. “Shall we get started?”

As soon as you started to come up with ideas, your gaze drifted toward the opposite end of the room, watching Coriolanus and Clemensia work together. They seemed like they were having fun working with one another. Clemensia grabbed his forearm at a joke Coriolanus made, making your blood boil. You knew you shouldn't feel this way over your two best friends, but when it came to being millimeters away from your blond, it shook you.

“Are you… Okay?” Sejanus poked your shoulder, a concerned expression etched across his face. “Your pen looks like it’s going to explode with the way you’re gripping it.”

You look away from the sight right before Coryo looks over. “Sorry, I was… Distracted.”

“I bet.” He chuckles, earning a curious look from you.

“What do you mean?”

Sejanus tilts his head in your direction, making a subtle gesture to the blond. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.” You frown, scrawling nonsense on the paper. “I was merely looking at them.”

“With a scowl on your face.” The curly-haired male pointed out. You flush at the observation, rubbing your face. “I doubt anything will happen, you two are as thick as thieves.”

Your eyes return to Coriolanus after listening to Sejanus’ words, meeting his water colored eyes. You smile at him, earning one back before Clemensia stole his attention again. With a fading smile and the unfamiliar feeling settling in your stomach again, you focus on the work given.

When Dean Highbottom released your class, you bid a quick bye to Sejanus before heading to the courtyard. The weather was fairly nice, and all the other students were already filling the area. You make your way toward the willow tree planted by the courtyard’s corner. It was the same place you always were, reading a book. Usually Coriolanus was with you so you could read to him, but you assumed he would stay with Clemensia.

Opening the book to where you left off, your focus was solely on the book and trying to push the feeling away, not realizing Coriolanus was just a few feet away from you.

“Where’d you go? I was looking for you.” He jogged the last few steps.

“I figured you were to hang out with Clemmie, since you’re suddenly all lovey-dovey with her.” You mutter out, not looking up.

“Excuse me?” He took a seat next to you, giving you an incredulous look. “I was not lovey-dovey with Clemensia.”

“Yes, you were.” You frown again, taking a quick glance at him. “You were the entire class.”

“Now why were you watching us instead of working on your project with Sejanus, beautiful?” Coriolanus took your chin with his thumb and pointer, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“You have no right to call me that at the moment.” You push his hand away, shoving your book back into your bag. “Good bye.”

He studies your features for a bit, piecing the pieces together. “You’re jealous.”

“What?” You whip your head at him, using an accusation kind of tone. “I am not jealous of you and Clemensia.”

“You are jealous.” Coryo smirks in your direction as you furiously flush red. “That’s just confirmation.”

“I’m not jealous, Coriolanus.” You cross your arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You really are jealous.” He raises a brow when you say his full first name. “You just have to admit it.”

“I’m not jealous of you two. I’ve never been jealous in my entire life.” You stand, Coriolanus following. “So how can I possibly be jealous of you and your blossoming relationship with Clemensia—”

“Just say that you’re jealous.” He puts a hand behind your back as he guides you through the courtyard. “You’re jealous that she’s going to spend more time with me, and that I’ll replace you with her as my favorite person…”

“I’m your favorite person?” Your eyes slowly light up, trying your best not to show it.

“Only if you say you’re jealous.”

“Never.” You lift your chin a little higher. “I’m not jealous.”

“What a shame.” He leaves your side for a second, turning around to face you. “All you have to do is say you’re jealous or I’ll go find—”

“Fine.” You mumble, looking away. “I’m jealous.”

“What was that, beautiful? Couldn’t hear you.” Coryo got a bit closer, leaning toward you.

“I’m jealous.” You shut your eyes, earning an airy laugh from him.

Coriolanus pulled you into a small hug, pecking the top of your head. “Cute.”

The second time you were ever jealous was at this moment in time.

You were told by Tigris that Coryo went to talk to his tribute earlier this morning. What you did not expect was him being in the zoo cage with his tribute.

All you wanted was to have breakfast and leave, but your father made you watch the live casting.

You blankly stared at the host of the Hunger Games as you caught Coriolanus’ platinum blond in the background of the television.

“That’s right! All twenty-four of them— What in the gem of Panem? Is he..? That’s an Academy rouge, no?”

Multiple emotions gnawed on the inside of you. You were terrified that something was going to happen to him in the cage, but at the same time he was looking at her as if his life depended on it.

“Excuse me! Hello, sir! Yes, you, in the red. Who are you and why are you in there with them? We’re live.” Flickerman gestures to the camera as it focuses on Coriolanus.

You study your boyfriend’s face, realizing he was talking to Lucy Gray.

“Isn’t that something?” Your father remarked. “Now why would your boyfriend be in the cage along with the other tributes?”

The look on your face never leaves as Flickerman continues to ask questions concerning Coriolanus’ safety. After a few seconds, Coriolanus slips a flower behind the girl’s ear. It wasn’t just any flower. It was one of Grandma’am’s white roses.

He takes Lucy Gray’s hand and gets closer to the camera. They started to answer questions Flickerman was asking and that look Coryo was giving his tribute never left his face.

At this point, all you could see was red.

Coriolanus never gave you one of Grandma’am’s beautiful roses or looked at you like he was so ever in love to be near you. And what completely set you off was the way Lucy Gray leaned into your boyfriend’s figure, Coriolanus wrapping an arm around her waist.

You rolled your eyes at his gesture, standing from your seat on the couch. “Turn that off. It’ll only do damage to the household’s eyes.”

Your father raises his eyebrows at you, shutting the television off.

Taking your bag and fixing your Academy uniform, you leave the Lovett Manor.

You enter the car that was taking you to the Academy, muttering a good morning to the driver.

“Are you okay, Miss Lovett?”

“I’m fine.” You look out the window, slowly passing the trees decorating your driveway.

A beat passes.

“How can he do that?” You ask the driver, fiddling with your silver necklace.

“Do what?”

You huff, twisting the chain. “Be so close to a tribute.”

“He is smart, Miss Lovett. He might be strategizing with her to win the games. Isn’t your father’s deal still on despite the change for the Plinth prize?”

“I guess.” You mumble out a response, jealousy continuing to bubble as your thoughts keep going back to the pair. “I called his cousin to see if Coryo and I could walk together today, but she said he was talking to his tribute. I guess talking to your tribute involves holding your hand and tucking important roses behind their ear.”

The rest of the car trip was silent, only the sounds of passing cars filling the space.

Arriving at the Academy, you thanked the driver and headed into the building. You weren’t one for letting comments and looks get to you by others, but it seemed as if everyone was judging you today. There were whispers everywhere you turned and points in your direction, only provoking your current mood.

“Miss Lovett, if I can see you.” Dean Highbottom calls for you before you enter his class, making you curious.

“Yes, sir?” You clutch your bag a little tighter.

He sighs, “Did you somehow convince Mr Snow to talk to his tribute which caused him to be put into the zoo cage?”

“No. I haven’t talked to Coriolanus at all today.” Your face is as hard as stone, showing zero emotion. “Why? Is he in trouble?”

“Oh, most definitely, Miss Lovett.” He pauses, seeming as if he was going to add something else but refrained. “I would suggest you take your seat, classes are about to start.”

You enter the classroom, not questioning your professor any longer. Silently take your seat next to Sejanus, frowning at the empty seat to your left.

Time agonizingly passed on. Highbottom gave out a textbook assignment which, he said, would take the majority of the class. It would be until forty minutes later that Coriolanus showed up to class. By this time, you were annoyed at the fact he was late. He was never late. And being late to class for talking to a tribute just made the situation worse.

The doors slammed open as Coriolanus walked inside, taking a few seconds to look for your figure. You never dared to look up at his icy stare, doing your best to focus on the papers in front of you.

“Your little excursion was in violation of about five different Academy rules, Mr. Snow.” Dean Highbottom did not bother to look up. “Which amongst them endangers Capitol students—”

“What, who?” Coriolanus interjects, stopping his movements.

“You and your dear Miss Lovett.” He retaliates. “I’m meeting with the Gamemakers to disqualify you as mentor immediately.”

You look up at the mention of your name. What did he do that could possibly endanger you?

Coriolanus stood by his seat, deciding to argue with the Dean. “You said we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away.”

“I’m putting insubordination as well.” Highbottom mutters, scratching the violated rules onto a paper.

Arachne looks at Coriolanus with distaste, placing her pen down. “Introducing her to people? Holding her hand when you have a girlfriend, Coryo? You make it look as if we’re one of the same as those animals.”

The grip on your pen tightened at her unneeded comments. The red encasing every fiber of your body once more as your classmates argued. You really started to hate Lucy Gray.

“Coriolanus didn’t show those people anything they didn’t already know.” Sejanus jumps in to defend his best friend.

“I don’t need your help Sejanus.” Coryo lowers his voice, taking his seat next to you.

He laced his hand with your left, making you freeze.You glance at him but don’t meet his eyes. You purse your lips and remove your hand from his, pushing it away from your lap.

You could feel his stare from your side, making you shift uncomfortable at the now high tension between you.

If Coriolanus had been with you earlier that morning, you would’ve welcomed his touch. However, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of doing something highly dangerous then coming back straight to you. Especially with the addition of being close with such a tribute.

Yes, you wanted to feel his comfort, and yes, you regretted not staying the night at his penthouse. But right now you couldn’t look at him without thinking of what you saw earlier.

Coriolanus hid a scoff at your behavior, choosing to rest his hands on the desk instead. He didn’t like to be ignored by you. You were his and obviously something altered your mindset if you acted like this.

Suddenly, Dr. Gaul appeared from the top of the classroom, slowly descending the stairs while reciting a kind of poem.

“Snow fell down in the cage. It fell down in the cage, but it landed.” Her eyes found the blond’s face, noticing his attitude to the female to his right. One she noticed during the reaping the other day too.

A small silence filled the room while Coriolanus slowly shifted his gaze to the doctor. “On stage.”

Her wicked smile appears on her face, “You’re good at games. Maybe one day you’ll be a game maker like me.”

“Not if the games continue at all.” Highbottom interjected, turning back around to face Dr. Gaul.

“Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Mr. Snow’s in that zoo?” She gestures toward Coriolanus, eyes flickering to your face as well. “And I came here to ask your star mentor a question.”

The attention goes from Dr. Gaul to the male sitting beside you.

“What are the Hunger Games for?”

Coriolanus takes a second before answering, the gaze of his classmates heavy on him. “They’re to punish the Districts for their uprising. To… commemorate the end of the war—“

“Commemorate the dull, dull, dull.” She runs with her words, her raspy voice making it sinister. “Punishment can take myriad forms. Why not drop bombs? Cancel Food shipments? Stage executions? Why games?”

“Shouldn’t we be asking ourselves whether or not they’re right in the first place.” Sejanus replied instead of Coriolanus, making your head snap up to the Plinth. “Some of those kids were two years old when the war ended. The oldest of them were only eight!”

“Sejanus—”

“Ah, Miss Lovett.” Dr. Gaul called, catching your intention of stopping Sejanus’ ramble. “Tell me. What are the Hunger Games for?”

You pinch your hand, looking between her staring eyes. “To remind the Districts of the Capitol’s power and lack of remorse for the war they started. To show that, if pushed hard enough, humans will do whatever it takes to survive.”

Dr. Gaul clapped her hands at your response, her crazed smile only growing. “I like this one! She understands what the Hunger Games are for.”

You bite your tongue, doing what you could to show no emotion for the unnecessary praise.

“Unlike you, Mr. Plinth. That sort of sympathy might mess with your mentoring assignment.” She says in disapproval.

“Perhaps the Capitol students are ill suited to be mentoring tributes. Perhaps the game's time has passed.” Dean Highbottom attempted to talk about ending the games again.

“Dean Highbottom is wrong. My classmates too.” Coriolanus stands, taking another look at you before shifting his attention to Dr Gaul. “Maybe Sejanus is onto something here. Maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings.”

You frown at your boyfriend. It seemed like he didn’t want the Hunger Games to continue yet he defends his stance like he needs them to continue.

“I mean, you saw those kids at the zoo. They wanted to get to know Lucy Gray—“

You let out a fake laugh. One that was quiet enough so that not everyone could hear, but loud enough that those sitting around you and Dr. Gaul could hear. You earned a curious look from Dr. Gaul and a glare from Coriolanus in the process.

“If we need people to watch, we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the Games. To make the stakes personal.” He finished, a prominent scowl replacing his once calm face.

You cross your arms and legs, watching the wall clock as they continue to converse about the topic. You lost interest the second he mentioned his tribute’s name. You could feel Coriolanus’ stare on you as he and Dr. Gaul went back and forth in their conversation.

“— Lucy Gray may not win in the arena… But if you just give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth prize that can win people’s attention.”

You caught his last bit, rolling your eyes at the mention of the infamous songbird.

Dr. Gaul hums, straightening her back. “I’d like you…” She flicks her eyes to your profile. “And Miss Lovett to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow.”

Your eyes widen at her, sitting up at the idea. “Dr. Gaul—“

“Wait.” Clemensia stands, hands lightly hitting the desk. “You mean you might actually use his, their ideas?”

“If it’ll help the ratings, why not?”

“Coriolanus,” She said loudly, trying to get as much recognition as the two of you. “And I are class partners. Dr. Gaul, we do all our assignments together.”

The doctor chuckles at Clemensia’s added comments, entertaining the idea. “It’ll be an interesting test.”

She took her leave, and it seemed as everyone in the room relaxed at the missing presence of the head game maker.

Coriolanus takes his seat next to you again, bringing his head by your ear. He felt you tense under him, making him release a quiet but bitter chuckle.

“Meet me in the library.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Coriolanus pulled you behind one of the shelves, gripping your arms.

“Nothing is wrong with me, Coriolanus.” You try prying yourself off of him. “Let go.”

“No.” He hardened his grip. “You’re being weird—“

“I’m being weird?” You throw your head back, laughing at his irony. “You were in a cage, locked with fucking tributes. Who knows what could have happened to you? You could have died.”

“I didn’t.”

You tilt your head, a fake pout on your face. “No shit you didn’t.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Coriolanus got so close to your face that you could see the rage in his eyes.

“What are you going to do about it?” You crease your brows. The hands that held you in place started to hurt, but you couldn’t let that stop you now. “Tigris said you were just going to talk to your tribute, not follow her into where they’re being held.”

“I need her to trust me—“

“I’m not fucking done, Coriolanus.” You try to get out of his grip again. “You gave her one of your grandmother’s white roses, held her fucking hand, and looked at her as if she were the best damn thing that ever happened to you.”

“Is that what this attitude is about?” He scoffs at your childlike nature. “You’re jealous over my time spent with a District tribute?”

“You never looked at me the way you looked at her.” You seethed. Your silver necklace dangled over your collarbone, the light hitting it which caught Coriolanus’ eye. “And you never gave me one of Grandma’am’s special roses.”

The male looked back into your eyes, processing your words. “I need this girl to trust me. The only way for her to trust me is if she believes I cherish her. I want to win the Plinth prize. And according to the Dean, the way to win is by getting Lucy Gray to know someone still cares about her, even if she’s sent to her death. The people of Panem need to love her.”

You roll your eyes once more at the mention of the girl, “What good is winning the Plinth prize knowing you’re killing innocent people?”

“That’s not what you said to Dr. Gaul.”

“I don’t think I had a choice on my words spoken to her!” You almost scream, feeling tears welling in your eyes due to your boyfriend’s harsh grip. “Let go of me, Coriolanus. You’re hurting me.”

Something in him clicked, letting go of your arms.

You back up into one of the tables, wincing at the sudden sting. Coriolanus stepped close to check on you, suddenly feeling bad for holding you as hard as he probably shouldn’t have.

“Beautiful—“

“Don’t touch me.” You whisper as you rub your arms. “Don’t you dare.”

Coriolanus stops his actions, “Y/N…”

“I don’t like the Hunger Games.” You stare into his eyes, letting tears well into your eyes but never letting them fall. “And I can’t do anything to stop it. But I’ll try my very fucking best to get my tribute out of there alive and treated like a human and not as a spectacle for the eye.”

You shove his shoulder as you walk away from him, leaving the male in the library on his own.

“Fuck.” Coriolanus groaned, running a hand through his hair.

The rest of the day, you did your best to avoid Coriolanus. You would walk with Clemensia to classes or sit on the other side of the room if you had to. That was the first time he actually hurt you. Both mentally and physically.

You went into the restroom during your lunch break, removing part of your uniform to check the skin where Coriolanus gripped you. The skin was bright red and no doubt would be purple in a few minutes. Tears welled up in your eyes again but you refused to let them spill. Not for the same reason.

When classes ended, you took the fastest way you could to the Capitol Zoo, your bag filled to the brim with food, water, and medicine for your tribute. You knew your tribute was extremely sick and the chances for her survival were higher if she got any better.

You were the first mentor to appear at the Capitol. Although not the first visitor. Many parents and their children were staring at the tributes like they were animals. You did your best to avoid the camera set up right at the front, heading to one of the corners of the exhibit.

Lucky for you, Dill and Reaper were already situated in that area.

You were quickly able to gain their trust through the food and the medicine you brought for Dill. The three of you conversed about almost everything. Especially Dill. She wanted to know everything about you.

You offered her and Reaper more food as the young girl continued to question you.

“What about her? Are you friends with her?” Dill pointed to Arachne.

You shake your head, “More like acquainted. She’s not my favorite person I’ve ever met.”

“Good. She seems mean.” She grimaces at Arachne teasing her tribute with food. “Mm, what about that crazy man?”

“What?” You crease your brows, a confused laugh coming from you. “What crazy man?”

“That one.” She gestured to a blond, blue-eyed male. “The one who followed us in here. Is he your friend?”

You subconsciously grab your silver necklace, wrapping a finger around the charm. “He… Yes.”

Dill’s eyes lit up at the beautiful necklace, “That’s so pretty! Where did you get it?”

Smiling at her enthusiasm, you take it off and show it to her. “Coryo—“

“Who’s that?” She held the charm in her palm.

“My,” You hesitate, glancing at his crouched figure. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“You have a boyfriend?!” She practically shouts, jumping to her feet. You catch the necklace before it can fall out of her hands, slipping it back on. That medicine really helped her.

The people around you look over, making you flush red at the sudden attention. “Dill, honey—“

“Who is it? Is he also a mender?” She continues to jump and down. “Is he here right now?”

Coriolanus catches your embarrassed state, tilting his head at what the young girl could possibly be talking about.

“He is, but Dill, you can’t announce it to everyone here.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, rubbing your arm from the sudden pain it emitted. “And it’s mentor.”

“Well which one is he? Is it him?!” She points to Sejanus, making you chuckle.

You catch your lover’s eyes, watching his own eyes drift down to your arm. The small smile on your face fades and you look down, clearing your throat.

“No, not him.” You hand her your last water bottle and shut your bag. “If I tell you who it is, do you promise not tell the rest of the tributes?”

“I promise.” She crossed her heart. “Who is it?”

You gesture for her to come closer, whispering into her ear. “It’s the crazy man.”

“Really?” She whisper-shouted back, looking at Coriolanus. Dill looked back at you and noticed your bothered face, “What’s wrong?”

“We had a fight today.” You mumble, dusting your skirt off. “We didn’t leave off on a good note.”

“Oh.” She held your hand. “Hopefully you make up! Even if he is crazy, he’s crazy smart. So are you! I just know you two will be married and have beautiful children and—“

Screams fill the air, cutting Dill off. You quickly whip your head toward the noise, finding Arachne being held by her tribute. Reaper came back over to pull the young girl away from you while you were pulled away from her by two peacekeepers.

“What’s happening to Arachne?” You strain your neck to look over, watching blood pour out of her neck. “Oh, god— Oh my, god.”

Shots were being fired by peacekeepers, killing the tribute that attacked one of your peers. You pulled yourself away from the peacekeepers and rushed over to her. Although you weren’t the closest with Arachne, you were still going to try your best to help her.

“Arachne?” You kneel by her, holding her head. “Can you hear me?”

She sputters out incoherent words, the glass bottle still pierced into her neck.

“You’re going to be fine. It’s going to be fine.” You do your hardest to stop the bleeding without hurting her even further. “I’m sure someone is coming to help—”

“Beautiful—” You feel a pair of strong arms pull you away from Arachne’s body, her body slowly becoming lifeless.

“Oh, my god.” You drop your hands, letting the arms pull you up. “I can’t— She just—“

“Baby, I need you to breathe.” Coriolanus turned you around, holding your face in his hands. “Breathe with me.”

You shook your head, Arachne’s blood covering your hands. “Her family needs to— She’s d–dead. Her parents—”

He wiped the tears you didn’t know were falling from your face. “It’s not your fault. I need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that?” You suck a shaky breath in and release, shutting your eyes at the encounter.

“Okay, good. A few more.” He continued to brush the tears off.

Coriolanus made sure you could breathe properly before leading you further away from the Capitol zoo. You tried to not get any blood on Coriolanus’ school uniform and tried to stop the flow of tears.

Admittedly, you hated how Arachne acted, but you never wanted her to die because of it. But her action toward the tribute was wrong and she paid the price for it. At least, that’s what the voice in the back of your mind repeatedly said to you.

“Do you need me to take you home?” Coryo took out water from his bag and wet some tissues, rubbing your hands.

You mumble a small no, sniffling from all your tears spent today. You assumed the tears were from what happened before and that Arachne’s death was just the trigger for it. You were still upset over Coriolanus and Lucy Gray and the way he treated you earlier. But those thoughts were pushed and locked into a small chest. You needed to be with him after what just happened to a classmate.

He looked at you with somewhat concern, “Are you sure? I can—”

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Your glassy eyes met his, catching his worried look. “I can’t spend tonight alone.”

Coriolanus threw the tissues away in a nearby trash can, “Always.”

You let him pull you into a hug, forgetting that he hurt you physically and you didn’t want him to hold you.

“It’s starting again.” Grandma’am walks over to the table you, Coriolanus, and Tigris were seated. “This is how it begins… The war.”

“It was my fault. I suggested we get closer to the tributes.” Coriolanus says in a distant tone, his hand in yours.

Your head rests on his right shoulder, dressed in one of the robes Tigris made you. You let him fiddle with your hand, feeling him trace his name over your palm.

“You’re just lucky that your songbird and that sickly girl didn’t attack the both of you as well.” Grandma’am gestured to you.

“They’re not rebels, Grandma’am. They’re just girls.” Tigris looks down at the table, her voice wavering at the thought of the poor tributes.

“Trust me. Lucy Gray hasn’t been a girl in a long time.” Grandma’am shook her head, Coryo’s eyes snapping up to hers. “Outside of this Capitol, they’re savages. One and all. However they may smile, they will use you. You must use them. Or you’ll end up dead in the trees like your father.”

You squeeze Coriolanus’ hand at the mention of his deceased father, feeling him tense under his grandmother’s words. You loved Grandma’am, but to say something about her grandson’s dead father to get his act right did not settle right with you.

As the night grew longer, Tigris eventually escorted Grandma’am back to her room, squeezing both yours and her cousin’s shoulders.

“Don’t let him stay up all night for this.” Tigris told you, hoping you would knock some sort of sense into him. “Good night.”

You smile at her before shifting your attention back to the male to your right. “You heard your cousin.”

Coriolanus had his left hand now resting on your leg, occasionally moving his hand up and down to keep you awake. “You’re supposed to help me with these thoughts, you know?”

“I know.” You give him a sleepy smile. “I’ll help. I probably won’t have the best ideas, but I’m here as moral support.”

He chuckled at you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Best moral support ever.”

You ended up falling asleep the second he got to the fifth paragraph, head resting on the papers he already filled out.

But you and Coriolanus knew something between the two of you shifted. And you both knew it. Why?

Because he had yet to apologize for hurting you earlier.

taglist: @peterparkerluvvbot @nathaslosthershit @springholland @emma-andrea1 @psychicpuppyarcade @chrryluna @whodis-26 @coconut-dreamz @cowgirllharry @slytherinholland @lacysversion @perks-of-being-jojo @itzmeme @noodlesketchbook @ohmyzai @upsidedownjill @axionn @mizuki80 @unclecrunkle @tiaamberxx (ask for taglist in comments or dm)

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

Text

Propaganda

Ginger Rogers (Swing Time, Top Hat)—Look I’ll level with you, I’ve never seen her in a musical and I know that she’s an amazing dancer and she’ll be even hotter when I finally watch Top Hat but I’m not submitting her as a dancer I’m submitting her as an ACTRESS. Her comic timing is impeccable!!!!! She’s full to bursting with life and in every role she seems to be having FUN, you can practically feel the twinkle in her eye. With her natural warmth it’s like she’s letting you in on the joke, y’all get to have this fun together! Making me laugh is hot!!! [If you'd like to see Ginger dance, videos below the cut]

Dorothy Lamour (The Jungle Princess, Road to… movies)—Ok, to be honest, I get if no one wants to vote for her--she's kind of like my ~problematic fave~ because she started in the Road (Singapore, Bali, Hong Kong, etc) movies with Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, which are full of all sorts of exoticism tropes and usually have her playing very side-eye type roles..island princesses and things...yeah. also she banged J. Edgar Hoover. not very hot. but your honor i still think she's pretty despite all that she's pretty please look at her and tell me she's prettyyy

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Dorothy Lamour propaganda:

She started in jungle and South Seas movies and became famous in the Road series. She learned quickly to improvise when facing Bob and Bing. Road to Bali almost has her character marrying both of theirs, since she's island royalty and nobody had a problem with it - a nearly poly relationship, an epiphany for a viewer who didn't even know that that could happen! She was a popular pinup girl during World War 2, and was the first singer for the popular standard "It Could Happen to You". She sang often in her movies and has a lovely voice!

Ginger Rogers propaganda:

She needs no introduction! An undeniable powerhouse on the dancefloor, and no less talented an actress. I once watched a compilation of cinema's greatest dance scenes and one of her and Fred Astaire's dances was featured, and one of the talking heads said he pitied her for 'having to keep up with him' - or something to that effect. Bullshit, I cry. Ginger Rogers was his absolute equal, and underplaying her incredible skill is downright criminal. I want the 'Cheek to Cheek' sequence from Top Hat to be permanently burned into my memory.

"Backwards in high heels", as the saying goes (though the pedant in me must point out that she in fact spent her fair share of time leading or dancing side-by-side). One of the earliest twinkle-toed ladies of the silver screen, and in terms of acting/persona, her balance of wide-eyed cuteness and movie-star glamour has never quite been replicated.

we all know her beloved string of musicals with fred but ginger also has an extensive and varied non-fred filmography that she's great in! a few ginger moments that are important 2 me personally ginger singing “we’re in the money” in gold diggers of 1933, complete with a verse in pig latin bc this whole movie is kinda mocking the concept of anyone actually being in the money in 1933; ginger and una merkel singing a verse of “shuffle off to buffalo” in 42nd street, providing some statler & waldorf-esque commentary on newlyweds from the upper berth of a railway car (interesting that belly was apparently a risque word in 1933 - maybe its bc the lyric is innuendo-ing about out of wedlock pregnancies - and that panties was a term for men’s underthings!); a favorite fred & ginger number

Ginger Rogers could do everything! She could sing, dance and act. She was hilarious in comedies, moving in dramatic roles (she won an Oscar for Kitty Foyle in 1940) and absolutely gorgeous!

Listen, no shade to Fred Astaire at all, but she both kept up with him step for step and then later went on to WIN AN OSCAR FOR ACTING. (which he did not.) truly a double threat!!!

One of the best dancers in Hollywood! Her work with Fred Astaire is just incredible.

ONE LINE: "Everything Fred did, Ginger did backwards and in heels" AND THEYRE RIGHT! Rogers was a total dance badass, and a lot of movie buffs know the story, but the Never Gonna Dance number from Swing Time took almost 50 takes, and allegedly by the end of filming it her white shoes had been stained pink because her feet were bleeding. As a note, she looks crazy gorgeous in this number. Watching these two dance is insane. They match up to each other in a way my mom describes as "divine" and she's right. DANCE NUMBERS!

youtube

Let's Call The Whole Thing Off (Shall We Dance, 1937, dancing starts at 3:14, they're in ROLLERSKATES)

youtube

(Ginger Rogers is the hottest woman ever to live in this number. seeing this as a teenager altered my brain chemistry)

youtube

(also watch her feet and how she moves opposite Astaire in this one. We all know our boy Freddie had that precision demon but jesus christ Miss Rogers, let a girl live!)

Pick Yourself Up, Swing Time 1936 (Everyone's seen this one but by god you are going to see it AGAIN!)

youtube

Shall We Dance, 1937 (duet begins at 2:34)

youtube

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, Roberta 1935 (There's just something about Ginger Rogers in a slick black dress man)

youtube

The Continental, The Gay Divorcee 1934 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cjv6nmF7wdk God she's MAGIC in this one.

youtube

Gay Divorcee's Ending Montage 1934The infamous table and chairs spin happens at about 0:49. Pay CLOSE attention to her in this bc it looks like witchcraft and I feel lightheaded whenever I watch this movie bc shes THAT awesome.

youtube

She is a miracle to watch. Sorry for the sheer amount of clips. My entire family is like madly in love with Ginger Rogers.

#dorothy lamour #ginger rogers #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 1 #Youtube

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flowerxbunnie · 5 months

Note

can you pls pls write about shy reader she and chris are a recent couple and one day he founds out that she likes dirty talk and tries that with her

Dirty Secret

Chris x Fem reader

Warnings: SMUTTYYY smut, lots of dirty talk, degradation/praise

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!

Tags: @lustfulslxt

Chris’s POV

I can’t wipe the dumb smile off my face as I peek at Y/n’s nightstand, multiple tubes of chapstick covering the surface along with notebooks, pens, scrunchies, and lots of half empty water bottles. Her personality shows in her room so clearly, methodic but carefree.

These past four months have made me nothing but happy. We’ve done a good job at keeping our relationship out of the public eye after agreeing she didn’t want to handle any kickback from my fans yet. I hate that I can’t show her off, but it’s for the best, at least at this point.

I roam around her room with no ultimate goal, just waiting for her to get back from her nail appointment and I got bored. I scan her makeup table, brushes and random products strewn about as evidence that she’d been here hours before. Her jackets and hats hang on a hook behind her door and I run my fingers across the different fabrics, moving closer to inhale the vanilla scent that floods my mind with images of her. Fairly lights twinkle above her bed, something I’ve definitely taken notice of during all our nights tangled in her sheets.

I move to her bookshelf and look at all the spines of her books, some neatly lined up and some thrown haphazardly into piles. There’s collectible figures of the things she likes, crystals, and random little trinkets littering the shelves. I can’t help but reach out and touch the book that’s lying on the shelf at my eye level, running my fingers along all the multicolored sticky notes she’s placed into her favorite pages.

I guess it was a little too close to the edge, because even my light touch caused it to topple over and fall open, landing face down on the carpet below. I breathe out a curse and lean down to pick it up and put it exactly how I found it. I don’t want Y/n to think I’ve been snooping, because I haven’t. I’m just admiring all the little things that make her room feel like home to her.

I close the book and bring it back up to the shelf, turning it around to glance at the cover. Priest by Sierra Simone. I know a lot about Y/n already, but I didn’t know she was into religion. Sounds like a biography from the summary on the back. Something about a priest breaking their vow of celibacy and needing to confess. My interest is growing, I didn’t think she would enjoy this kind of book, maybe I should take a peek?

I pick the first sticky note my fingers brush across, knowing Y/n highlighted it for a reason. An audible gasp falls out of my mouth as a skim across the words on the page.

“Stay the fuck still, or I’m going to come before I want to, and if that happens, then I will take you over my knee and spank your ass until you learn how to listen.”

“What the fuck?” I question out loud.

I flip through multiple pages, each sticky note highlighting incredibly filthy words. It’s a fucking sex book. My cheeks burn at the thought of her reading these while she’s alone in her room, wondering what she looks like as she’s turning the pages and writhing with anticipation. I grab onto a pink sticky note and pull on it, flipping it to the page and reading what she had highlighted.

“But I won’t lie. It makes me hard as fuck knowing that I was the first man to taste you.”

This sticky note has her own handwriting smeared across it. I squint to make out the words.

If Chris would have said that to me…

Ouch, I think?

I’m not a vanilla guy by any means, but I’m not the weird fuck from 50 Shades of Grey either. I think our sex life is great, it’s more than enough to keep me satisfied. We’ve made love in the car, fucked while she was bent over her dining room table, stolen kisses in restaurant bathrooms after we snuck away from our friends. It’s all been so exciting to me, and even better because it’s with her.

I continue flying through the pages, my eyes widening at every line she made a point to come back to. This dude talks so much while he’s fucking this chick.

“No, don’t touch yourself, sweetheart. We’re going to get there together.”

Remind Chris to be more vocal!

It all clicks in my bird brain. I’m a fucking idiot. She’s highlighted almost all dialogue. She wants me to talk more during sex. I’ll admit, I’m not the best at speaking my mind while she’s bouncing on me or sprawled out below me. But why hasn’t she told me yet? I hope she hasn’t been disappointed with how things have been going.

I put the book back and angle it as best as I can remember, moving to lay down on top of her comforter. I stretch my back out and throw my arms behind my head, thinking about what I’m going to do when she gets home.

Y/n’s POV

I take my keys out of the door and lock it behind me, smiling as I see Chris’s sneakers sitting on the shoe rack in my entryway. My nails took way longer than I expected and I’m just so excited to be able to waste the rest of my day away with him. I make my way down the hall after placing my shoes next to his and creep into my bedroom, sprinting and jumping to lay beside Chris who’s stretched across my bed.

“Hiiii baby, I missed youuu!” I singsong before pressing a kiss against his stubbly cheek.

“Mmm, missed you more.” he mumbles into my neck as he turns and molds his body into mine.

His arms encircle me and the smell of his cologne floods my senses, washing a wave of comfort over me. I could lay like this forever.

“Let’s see the nails,” he says as he breaks away from me, suddenly sitting up and grabbing my hands.

I sit up beside him and watch as his large hands hold my own, moving my fingers around and watching the duo chrome polish shift colors in the light. His smile spreads from ear to ear as he takes notice of the “C” I asked the nail tech to paint onto my ring finger.

“Aren’t they so cute??” I squeal, so ecstatic at the way they turned out.

“So cute,” he coos, bringing them to his lips to place a tender kiss on each finger. “I think they’d look even cuter wrapped around my cock.” He says in a low growl as he brings my hand down to his lap, shoving my palm onto the fabric of his sweatpants.

I feel his erection through the layers of clothing, rock hard and throbbing. I can’t help but gasp at his words, I’ve never heard him speak like this before. I watch as his pupils dilate, the black overtaking the blue of his iris as he flickers his eyes to my lips.

“Nothing to say, sweetheart?” He asks almost in a belittling tone.

“N-no I just.. I’ve never heard you say something like that,” I squeak out as he pushes my hand down with more force.

“What, you don’t like it?” He says with a smirk.

“I don’t know.. I th-think so..” I stammer.

“When were you gonna tell me, hm? Such an innocent girl reading such filthy books. Does it turn you on?” His hand leaves mine against his hard on and comes up to caress my cheek.

“Huh, what are you talking about?” I spit out at him, my cheeks igniting red with visible embarrassment.

Has he snooped through my room?

“I saw it all, baby. And it’s okay. It’s okay if you need me to tell you how dirty of a girl you are, or how good you make me feel. You have to let me know these things..” he trails off as his thumb brushes against my lip, smearing my peppermint chapstick onto the corner of my mouth.

“I-I’m sorry, Chris. I don’t… I didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t want you to think I was weird.” I look down, intimidated by his cold gaze, and he tilts my head back up, his eyes serious.

“It’s not weird. Do you touch yourself to those books baby? Reading about a man talking to a woman like that.. does it make you feel good?” He whispers the last sentence and his free hand finds my inner thigh, caressing and warming my skin.

I nod sheepishly, afraid to speak my thoughts out loud to Chris.

“Use your words. Do you ever imagine it’s me saying those things?”

“Y-yes… every single time.” I say as I release a breath.

He groans and pushes my hair behind my ear, inching closer to me and ghosting his lips over my ear. “Such a naughty girl.”

Shivers fall down my spine as he places a kiss onto the sensitive skin between my ear and jaw, his lips lingering and sucking lightly. He slides the hand on my cheek to the back of my neck, lacing his fingers into my hair and pulling down, my neck exposed to him.

“Look at the way your body reacts to me.” He whispers, placing a finger onto my jugular, and I feel it pulsing mercilessly beneath his touch.

He moves his hand to grip around my throat, his thumb and fingers pressed firmly against both pulse points of my neck. My head begins to tingle, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. His lips pepper wet kisses along my jaw, every one of them seeping into my skin and heightened from the constricted blood flow.

“You like that, my hand around your throat? I could squeeze as hard as I want.” he says before constricting his grip.

My core begins to throb hearing his inner thoughts spill from his mouth. My field of vision starts to shrink, a black vignette closing in.

“I’d never hurt you like that, sweetheart. But don’t you like the risk?” He suddenly releases his hold on my throat and all my blood rushes back up into my head. I’m dizzy and completely aroused for him.

I nod furiously before his lips crash against mine, low growls seeping out of his throat and being released into my mouth. He bites and tugs at my bottom lip before pulling away and licking a hot stripe up my chin and back up to my mouth. His lips meet mine again, his mouth open and begging for my tongue. I push it into his mouth only to be dominated, not standing a chance as his hunger grows.

Chris’s hands latch onto my hips, lifting me off the mattress and into his lap, his erection poking at my core. He breaks the kiss and grabs the hem of my shirt, sliding his hands up along with the fabric. I help him get it off, discarding it somewhere in my room. His eyes burn holes into my chest, examining the bralette covering the skin. He grabs the bottom and slides it up, my breasts bouncing as they fall out in front of him. He pushes the excess fabric up to rest on the plate of my chest.

“Fuck, Y/n. If I died with my face in your tits I’d be happy.”

He begins ravaging my breasts, nipping and licking and leaving red and purple marks across the skin. He sucks my nipples while looking so deep into my eyes I start to think he can see the back of my skull. The line of pain and pleasure is completely blurred when he takes one of my swollen nipples between his teeth and tugs on it.

“F-fuck, Chris..” I cry out, bucking my hips instinctively and pressing down onto his throbbing dick.

He lets out a deep moan, gripping my waist and prompting me to stop my movements. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that. I’m so fucking hard it hurts.”

I let out a little grin and begin to rock back and forth again, his head falling against the headboard with his eyes squeezed shut. His cock rubs against my clit through the multiple layers of clothing, but the pressure and friction still causes both of us to pant and moan in unison. He brings his head back up and grips my hips tighter this time, my body unable to move.

“Such a dirty girl. Can’t listen to simple instructions.”

He removes his shirt, a layer of sweat starting to form on his skin, then brings my bra over my head, not bothering with the clasp. He throws it across the room and then lifts my legs to remove my shorts before lifting me up and sliding his sweatpants off, all of which meet the same fate as the rest of the discarded clothes. He presses a hand against my chest, my back hitting the bed as he pushes me down. He comes to hover over me, his eyes dark and half lidded. His knee is pressed inbetween my thighs touching my core with a teasing amount of pressure.

“You’ve already made such a mess, baby..” he says with false concern, referring to the wetness that has seeped through my panties and is touching his skin.

“I’m s-sorry..” I whine, fighting the urge to grind against his knee.

“Don’t apologize, sweet girl. I’ll help you out.”

Chris trails kisses down my chest and stomach, randomly sucking marks into my skin on the way down. He circles his tongue around my navel before licking across it, a trace amount of his warm saliva dripping in. He traces his tongue along the lace hem of my panties, his breath burning against my skin as he grips it with his teeth.

“Please, Chris..” I whine and push him closer to the place I need him most.

His eyes show his grin as he dips his face down, flattening his tongue across the fabric covering my core. He licks and sucks at it, humming and closing his eyes as he spreads my legs apart.

“So sweet,” He whispers as he flicks his tongue up and down.

He hooks his fingers into the band of my panties and pulls, his mouth only disconnecting for a brief second to slide them down my legs before his tongue finally connects with my bare pussy. I arch my back off the bed and cry out as his tongue works against my heat. I’m a mess under him- gripping the sheets, tugging on his brown waves, grabbing my own breasts, doing whatever I can to release some of the tension building up in my body.

“You like the way my tongue feels on you, princess?” He asks in a raspy voice as he wipes his wet mouth with the back of his hand.

“Yes.. fuck please keep going..” I pant, not wanting to lose momentum as my climax has started inching its way to the top.

“How about you do what you need? Use my face and get yourself off.”

He leans back down and presses his tongue against me, holding still as he keeps eye contact. I start circling my hips, feeling the way his tongue remains in place as I grind against it. I grip onto his face and pull it closer, moving my hips down so his nose rubs my clit and his tongue rubs up and down my folds. I buck up and down in complete control and he hums against me to the point I feel like my intestines are vibrating. I speed up and increase the pressure as my stomach begins to ache with a familiar feeling.

I nearly scream, tensing up as my body burns through my climax. He remains still just letting me use him as I ride through it and come down, my grip on his hair relaxing and my body falling slack on the bed.

“Taste yourself baby. Let me show you what you did, all for me.” He whispers against my lips after he climbs to hover over me.

I’m still trying to catch my breath as his lips collide onto mine. I taste my own juices on his tongue, sweet and tangy. He presses his hips down onto my stomach and reminds me of his need, humping forward a few times and moaning into my mouth.

“Now are you gonna bend over or just sit there and look pretty?” He growls as he swiftly stands up and pulls his boxers down.

His pink tip is swollen and leaking precum. His grips his hand around his base and squeezes until his knuckles turn white, his head falling back out of pleasure or maybe the throbbing pain, there’s no way to tell. His eyes lock onto mine and he starts pumping up and down on his dick, sucking in a sharp breath.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

I pull myself to my feet as quick as I can and limp to the end of the bed, my legs like jelly after tensing up so hard.

“That’s cute. Can’t wait to carry you to the shower after this one.” he smirks and licks his lips.

My breath hitches as I turn around and bend over the footboard of the bed. His hands run up and down my ass, jiggling it before giving me a light smack with both hands. I gasp, jumping forward and my ribs hit the wood I’m bent over.

“So fucking hot, can’t believe this is all mine,” he coos, running his fingers down my folds before wiping my juices onto my lower back.

I feel his head against my clit, slick with warm precum. He soaks himself in my juices as he swipes it across my entrance, barely dipping in as he grips my hip with one hand.

“Chris.. oh my god. P-please just fuck me.” I whine, my legs already shaking and twitching.

“Mmm I plan on it, baby.” he whispers before slowly pushing forward.

He slowly gives me inch by delicious inch, my walls stretching around his thickness as we moan out together. He starts slow and stays deep inside me, barely pumping in and out. He runs his hands up and down my spine as he rocks into me, his breathing slow and controlled. My pussy clenches around him as his tip brushes repeatedly over a sensitive spot.

“P-please Chris go faster,” I draw out in a moan.

He listens. His thrusts become rough and rapid, my ribs slamming against the wood with each stroke but my brain seems to tune it out. He keeps his grip on my waist with one hand and reaches around to my face with the other, shoving two fingers in my mouth. I suck on them hard, swirling and lapping my tongue around them.

“Such a fucking slut, so willing to have all your holes filled, aren’t you?” He pants as he hooks his fingers onto the corner of my mouth and pulls back.

“Nhgnh.. fuck..” is all I can manage through his manipulation of my mouth.

“What? Am I fucking you dumb? Can’t even get your words out.”

I moan in response and feel my pussy throbbing around him, my lower abdomen on fire as I climb to my next release.

“S-so close..” I mumble as drool drips down my chin.

He lets go of my mouth and grips my waist, his thumbs pressing into the dimples on my back.

“You need me to cum in you, don’t you? I know you wanna be filled up, so full your eyes start to float.” He pumps as deep as he can go, my eyes rolling back into my head and words failing to form. “Answer me.” He spits with a smack on my ass.

“Please… p-please cum in me. Need it.. s-so bad Chris!”

With that he shoves his hips against me and shoots his hot load into my pussy, coating my walls as I fall over the edge with him. I’m screaming his name as he moans mine, pure ecstasy echoing through my room. I feel his cum leaking down my legs, such a big load that it has nowhere else to go. His thrusts slow down before they come to a halt, his dick still twitching inside me.

He pulls out and hums as he backs up and takes in the sight in front of him. I have no energy to stand, my muscles aching and tired.

“Look at that. God I wish I could burn this into my brain.”

He walks over to me, wrapping his arms around my torso and lifts me, my legs helping very little to hold me up. He hooks an arm under my thighs and picks me up to hold me bridal style. I’m so tired that my head can only manage to flop against his chest, and I hear his rapid heartbeat in my ear.

He starts to walk towards my bathroom but first places a lingering kiss on my forehead. I can feel the smile on his lips.

“Told you I’d have to carry you to the shower.”

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader

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raysrays · 2 months

Text

Jealous! Kyojuro Rengoku X Fem! Reader NSFW

CW: NSFW content, possessiveness/jealousy, Oral sex.

Minors Do Not Interact! 18+

Y/N perspective

I settled down under the tree, overlooking the training grounds while chugging water. It’s the hottest day of the year, and all the Hashira are taking advantage of it by training.

Just finished my hand-to-hand combat training with Tomioka. The man’s quiet, but he sure is fast. That last move had me completely pinned to the ground. I’m definitely going to be sore tomorrow.

Honestly, it was pretty embarrassing; it felt like everyone was watching. Tengen hyping up Tomioka from the sidelines definitely didn’t help the situation. I didn’t even get to see Kyojuro's reaction to my loss. I didn’t have the heart to look. As his Tsuguko, I’m a representative of him, and I feel like I probably embarrassed him too.

Just then, I feel someone sitting next to me. It’s Tomioka… I didn’t think he’d be the type to come over and brag about winning. This sucks.

“You didn’t do bad, you know,” he said in that monotone voice. He’s as stoic as ever.

Well, I definitely wasn’t expecting him to come over and comfort me.

“Uh, thanks. I just need to train a little more. I’ll get you next time!” I try to smile. If he’s not going to rub it in my face, I shouldn’t dwell on it.

I feel him looking at me, so I turn to face him. Is he smiling? Well, kinda? He’s not exactly frowning as usual.

“Yeah, until next time,” he puts his hand on my shoulder reassuringly and then stands up to leave.

“Oh, and one more thing-“ he began.

“Rengoku isn’t mad at you. You should probably go watch him go against Tengen.”

“I’ll watch from here where it’s shaded,” I reply.

He just nods and walks back to where the others are standing.

I watch as the two begin their sparring. Why does it seem more vicious than usual? Kyojuro looks like he’s really going all out this time. He looks very attractive right now.

Their sparring match goes on for another few intense minutes. Kyojuro is smiling; he must be fine, not mad at me at all.

I must have managed to catch his attention as I noticed him glance over at me, his smile dropping.

Oh, maybe not.

Damn it, I really didn’t want to listen to him lecture me about training more.

I finally make my way back down to the group, and we all talk amongst ourselves. I see a tall shadow hovering over me.

I turn around, locking eyes with Kyojuro.

He’s smiling, but I can tell this is just an “I’m not going to scold you now but I will later” type of smile.

I let out a sigh and make my way back to my quarters. I know he’s following me, but surely he will wait to talk after I’ve cleaned up. We both probably smell terrible.

As I’m about to shut the door to my room, a hand suddenly blocks it from closing. I look up, being met with a very stern-faced Kyojuro.

What’s his problem? Was me losing to Tomioka really that big of a deal?

He then pushes my door back open, walking in. “We need to talk, little flame,” his voice doesn’t sound like himself. This definitely isn’t the Kyo I was used to.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out.

“I know I shouldn’t have lost to Tomioka, and I promise I’ll train harder so I don’t make you look bad next time.” I’m praying my apology is enough.

It was only a second later I feel his lips on mine. He’s kissing me? But this time it’s different. It feels rough, urgent. What’s going on?

I feel him push his tongue into my mouth, deepening the kiss.

I pull away, breathing heavily. Why is he doing this?

He leans in and whispers in my ear.

“Did you enjoy it? Being pinned down by him?” He sounds so angry.

“What? What are you talking about?” I feel my face turning bright red.

I then feel a small pinch on my ear. Was he biting me?

“Tomioka. Did you like him holding you down like that? Enough for him to find you after and touch you some more?”

Is he being serious? This is so out of character for him.

“Kyo, are you jealous?” I ask with a hint of tease in my voice.

He then pulls me back in to kiss me again. I feel him walking me backwards, pushing my back against the wall.

He’s running his hands all over me, squeezing my breast, kissing me more passionately.

After a few seconds, I feel his hands moving down. He’s touching me there? Now? It feels like this is happening so fast, but it just feels so good.

I start to moan against his lips, and I put my hand over his.

“Kyojuro, wait… I need to wash up first.”

He then gets on his knees, looking up at me more sweetly than earlier.

“I don’t care about that right now, sunflower. Right now, I just want to please you. In a way he cannot,” he says, undoing my belt.

I feel my legs start to shake; this is so much. All of this just because Tomioka had to reassure me I didn’t fight terribly?

He knows what he’s doing, kissing me down there so softly.

I throw my head back, feeling him run his tongue all over me. Kyojuro was definitely a skilled swordsman, but he was also a professional in making me feel good.

I can’t help but cover my mouth with my hand. It’s not like these walls are super thick. I use my free hand to grab a fistful of his beautiful flame-colored hair.

I arch my back against the wall. I’m really starting to feel it now.

I can’t stand his teasing. He’s doing this to punish me.

“Kyo, please…” I manage to breathe out.

He pulls back a little. “Please what, sunflower? What is it you want?” He says softly, his voice full of arousal.

“Please, just let me finish,” I whisper.

He grins up at me. “After what you did?”

He leans back into me, going even slower than before.

I hit my head against the back of the wall. This is absolute torture. I’ve never wanted to cum so bad.

I tighten my grip on his hair that I still had in my hand.

I feel like my heart is about to beat out of my chest and like my legs are about to give out.

Finally, I feel him start to pick up the pace, and I don’t think I can stand it any longer.

I grip both of his shoulders as tightly as I can.

And finally, I feel it. The release is better than I could have imagined. It felt like it went on forever, and it was what I needed.

I feel my back slide down the wall, causing me to be eye level with Kyojuro on the floor.

We are both out of breath, staring at each other.

Kyojuro then pulls me into his lap, kissing my head.

“So, little flame, did I make you feel good?” He sounds so innocent, as if he didn’t just completely overpower me a second ago.

I shake my head. “You really got that jealous over Tomioka? It was just some hand-to-hand training.” I laugh.

His face turns bright red. “Well, yes, I know… but I just don’t know how to explain it. Seeing you being held down by him really just struck a nerve with me, and then him coming up to you after the match. I just couldn’t control it.” He sounds so embarrassed.

I cup his face in my hands and kiss his cheek. “Kyojuro, I love you. I would never crave the attention of anyone but you.”

I brush his hair out of his face, leaning into his ear.

“Nobody can make me feel good like you do,” I whisper.

He smiles brightly and laughs, pulling me into a tight hug. “That’s wonderful news, my little flame! I love you!”

There he is. There’s my sweet Kyo.

“Maybe I should make you jealous more often,” I tease.

“I’d advise against it,” he replies, kissing me one more time.

“Shall we get cleaned up now?” He suggests.

I nod, and we both finally make our way off the floor.

Well, that’s not exactly how I thought my “lecture” would go, but I guess I’m not complaining.

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #kny rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #x reader #smut #kny smut #rengoku smut #not safe fw #hashira x reader #kny hashira #kny x reader #kny #kyojuro rengoku x reader #jealousy #possessive

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byuntrash101 · 1 year

Text

Girls like me

dom!reader x sub!felix

smut | nsfw | mdni

nerdsub!felix is adorable, softishdom!reader, felix's freckles ♡, pet names (good boy, babyboy), praising, handjob, corruption kink, semi-public (library), edging, begging, cum eating, this is lowkey wholesome dont @ me...

requested | part of my 2023 prompt event [closed]

Felix's heart flutter when he thinks of you but he's not sure if he can be with a girl like you...

[❛ i’m going to ruin you. ❜ + ❛ no ones here. we can be as loud as we want. ❜]

TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK 🖤

You always liked the library. Not because of the books or the fast wifi but because it was quiet and peaceful. Because it was just a place to catch a quick break of it all and… because Felix was always there.

Felix the straight As student, always buried deep in his notes. He was in your major so you shared most of your classes with him but you never talked to him in class. He was way too bashful and/or focussed.

But here. You could maybe get his cute nose out of the thick books.

So many nights you closed down the library with him. Exchanging cute glances over his oversized square glasses, his rosy cheeks speckled with small freckles. He was adorable. You loved this duality between his timid demeanor and his deep voice always answering back to you with short answers.

You let your forehead rest on your microbiology book and sighed.

If only you hadn’t made that move yesterday. Trying to kiss him was just foolish of you. You remember how regret crept under your skin when he looked back at you with the round eyes of a deer trapped in headlights. You hadn’t seen him since. Not in class and not in the library. WHich was very unlike him. It was almost closing time and you were the only one left here. And still no sign of your favorite most adorable nerd.

You groaned and shook your head chasing the bitter memory away.

But… when you looked back up. Felix was standing right beside your table. His white shirt and beige pants perfectly represented him. His beautifully long blonde hair framing his face, the ends of it resting on his big square glasses. You instantly started smiling. But that smile faded when Felix didn’t return it.

“Hey…” his deep voice started hesitantly.

“Felix… I” you wanted to apologize but you couldn’t.

“Listen y/n… I…” he was fidgeting with his fingers, anxiously pulling at his nails. “I like you ok…”

You stopped breathing for a while. This was the last thing you were expecting.

“But I don't think I can… be with you” he whispered.

“Why not?” you asked. Getting up from your chair and taking his hand in yours, trying to soothe him, your thumb caressing his slender fingers.

“Because I’ve never been with a girl… Like… you…”

You both knew what it meant. It meant a girl that liked to be in control. That was going to guide him.

Fuck he was so cute, freckled cheeks painted a light shade of pink. Your other hand went to gently wrap around his small waist. You heard him ever so slightly gasp at your touch.

“Why don’t you at least try first, hm?” you leaned over, lips almost touching his. Felix looked like he was expecting a kiss but when you didn’t progress further he looked surprised. “What do you say babyboy?” you asked again.

Felix felt a strange and unknown quiver in his lower stomach at the word. His eyes fluttered between your eyes and your lips when he finally nodded.

And you kissed him very sweetly, slow and sensual, guiding the dance from start to finish and for a guy that was so hesitant he was so good at being obedient.

“That’s my good boy” you said, opening your eyes back. Felix didn’t expect to like it that much. The daring attitude, the kiss, the praise, the firm touch on his side. Without realizing he was imperceptibly squirming between your arms, looking for friction and before he could even understand what he was going through he was getting hard. Of course you didn’t fail to notice.

His sweet innocent behavior all the while being a needy little boy awakened something in you. Something rougher, hungrier. Something that you kept at bay for a long time. Maybe too long but somehow you needed to keep it under control for just a little longer.

Your hand dropped to his thigh, nails trailing to his clothed hard on. When you finally laid hands on it Felix was biting down on his lip trying so hard not to explode. You gave it a firm squeeze and that sufficed to pull out of him the most melodious and divine moan you’ve ever heard. Shameful, high pitched. Perfect.

You couldn’t hold back anymore. You forcefully shoved him back onto the nearby shelves, making them shake. Your hand slipped to his nape and you growled in his ear.

“My sweet innocent babyboy” you whispered, cooing and lapping at his ear. Felix shuddered again at the word. “I’m going to ruin you.”

Felix felt himself twitch. It was like every single atom of his will was leaving him. With these simple little touches and words he wanted to throw himself at you. Fuck why did he like that so much?

In one move, almost magically, you stripped him of his bottom clothes and unbuttoned his white shirt exposing his cute pink nipples and flushed chest. You trailed his abs with your sharp nail, lifting goosebumps on his soft skin. Then finally grabbed the aching member, already dripping with thick, slimy precum.

“Fuck you’re so fucking wet for me already” you whispered firmly grabbing the base. You starting slowly jerking him off, at a pace that was pure torture at least for him because it was bliss for you. You smiled at how his face contorted in need, how he gave pathetic little thrusts trying so bad to make you go faster.

“Is this what you wanted?” you asked, lips pressed to his blazing skin. Felix felt like his heart was consuming itself. Like he would burst into flames if he didn’t get to feel more of you right here, right now.

“Yesss!” he answered without a shadow of a doubt.

“So eager” you teased as you went ever so slightly faster. Felix shut his eyes closed and pushed his blonde head back in the books behind him, the yellow strands of hair clasping his sweaty forehead.

You went faster again, your hand perfectly gliding alongside him, from base to tip, gathering more precum and going down again. Your other hand left his nape to play with his balls.

At the very second you started to fondle them it happened again. That same moan. His hands flew to his mouth as his eyes filled with shame. He was trying so bad to be silent. It was so pathetic and cute. You had to reassure him. Tell him it was okay.

“No one’s here. We can be as loud as we want.” You said. “ I want to hear the beautiful sounds you make.” you pecked the base of his neck.

It was like you had opened a tap. From that moment onwards he reacted to every touch. Letting his beautiful high pitched voice out. A true symphony. He made a variety of sounds you never suspected him to be able to produce. He was giving himself up to you, letting you string him along like a puppet. A well behaved puppy led by his red, veiny and dripping leash.

“Are you close, baby?” you whispered, nibbling on his red ear.

“Yes… Please… I wanna cum” he cried out, fucking himself off in your hands, matching your rhythm perfectly.

“You wanna cum for me baby ?” you bit on his neck. Earning another melodious moan from the freckled boy.

“Yesss… Please!!” his legs were trembling, about to give out.

“No, not yet” you instructed sternly.

His fucked out eyes snapped back to you, full of misery and despair, eyebrows deeply knitted and sweat dripping down his temples.

“Please Please” he pleaded in short and shallow breaths. “I-I’d do anything… Please! Please!” he started to stutter, whining. You took a good look at him. You smirked at the memory of him being so indecisive a second ago, thinking he couldn’t possibly be with you. But look at him now, thrusting his red and weeping cock in your palm, watery eyes full of anguish. He was magnificent. He was begging you so well you decided to allow him.

“Cum, baby” you ordered. “Cum for me right now”

It was all he needed. He let out a powerful stream of white cum as a beautiful string of moan was cascading from his plump lips, beautiful soft features twisted by relieving pleasure. A long stream even got all the way to your abandoned microbiology book sitting on the table.

You brought your stained fingers to your lips to have a taste of him as he collapsed to the ground, exhausted. The strong taste filled your head and you savored every drop of him.

You got on his level, linking your lips with his. At first he was surprised by the bitter salty taste maybe because he didn’t see you bring your fingers to your tongue but when he realized what this alluring taste was he quickly returned the kiss. Losing himself in his own taste, completely capitulating to you in this final act of submission.

“How was it, baby?” You asked, finally parting from him.

“Great” he briefly answered out of breath. “I wanna do it again” he said, bashful eyes returning. Like it was a whole different person begging for release, eyes half closed and mouth agape a second ago.

“Today I was nice and gentle with you. Next time I’ll show you what girls like me really do to boys like you”.

A/N: should i do a part two ? idk haha i kinda really liked it lol come say hi in my asks if you liked it too!

PART 2 HERE

#skz smut #felix smut #stray kids smut #skz felix #stray kids #stray kids felix #sub!felix #sub!idol #kpop smut #felix fanfic #stray kids x you #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #felix x reader #skz fanfic #skz

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newluvrs · 7 days

Text

1:32 a.m. Anton ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎ mdni!! 18+ currently listening to: JUNO - CHOKER word count: 1.8k

“is this okay?”

The room is hazy from the glow of your bedside lamp, the smell of weed perforating your room as a result of your shitty roommate hotboxing your apartment last night. Your hoody is pushed up over your hips at present, everything feels sticky and hot from too much body contact with too many layers of clothing on. The sheets are kicked down by your feet, your legs at present hanging over Anton’s shoulders. His lips are all swollen, having spent the last half an hour lip locked with you. At this point in your relationship(?) neither of you had gone past make outs coupled with grinding and feeling each other up. When he started to kiss down your body you felt nervous, but your need to be touched screamed louder than any doubt in your brain.

“Please.”

You know Anton asked for reassurance more for himself rather than you, his own nerves and excitement getting to him. It was one of the first things you had noticed about him, and something you adored, how he could be simultaneously awkward and self-assured. Like he didn’t need validation from anyone, but he so badly wanted yours.

“please what?”

Okay now he was just fucking with you.

“Anton.”

“I was only joking..”

He flashes you his boyish half-smile, pulling your sweats off as he does so. His hair is all fucked up from his beanie and the amount of times you’ve ran your hands through it in the last half-hour. You can only imagine your own hair looking mussed as well. But none of this matters when he settles between your legs at the end of your bed, face to face with your boy shorts. He glances at them, then at you, half-amused half extremely turned on.

“Sorry if you were expecting lace.” You let out a scoff, trying to hide how vulnerable you feel right now. Now you really were thinking to yourself maybe you should have dug out your nice underwear, the ones reserved specifically for situations like this.

When he doesn’t answer, you look away from him, choosing instead to stare at the ceiling. It’s quiet for what feels like too long to you. Neither of you making a sound, the only thing playing in the room being your playlist accurately titled “music to kiss boys too.” You’re starting to feel really fucking awkward, even with the heavy bass of the current song thrumming through your body.

“Anton-“

Your cut off by your own gasp when you feel him lick you through your shorts. His arms are wrapped around your legs, helping you hold them up. He bites the inside of your thigh, making you buck your hips towards his face.

“you’re so pretty, and you don’t even have to do anything.”

He stares at you now, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs.

“you could wear a trashbag and I would still think you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You turn away from him again, a blush taking over you. You can’t remember the last time you felt shy, it’s always you who makes him feel flustered. Showering him in compliments endlessly about how cute you think he is. How hot you think he looks doing simple everyday things. You liked watching the way he stumbled over his words after, his face turning a pretty shade of pink. You didn’t ever feel like you needed compliments, or at least you never voiced your need for them. But now, laying here under him, it’s all you want to hear.

His fingers dip under your shorts, groaning when he comes into contact with your wet heat. Your hips shift in his hold, trying to move closer to that single touch. He giggles at this, pulling his hand from your boxers.

When you open your mouth to complain he finally gives you what you want, putting his mouth back on your cunt. The material thin enough for you to feel his tongue prodding at you. It’s taking you everything to restrain yourself from fucking up into his face. Especially when he starts sucking on your clit. Your hips jerk up, your hands balled into fists and coming up to grab at your pillows, resisting the urge to pull his hair.

“Fuck, Anton please.”

Your voice is so whiney, a breathless edge to it. He pulls off of you briefly, bringing one of his hands to thumb at your clit as he speaks.

“What is it baby?”

When you look back down at him, you realize his hoody is also still on, making this whole thing look hotter but also making you wonder why you’re the only one half-naked.

“I- fuck, please.”

He’s still rubbing at your clit, making it hard for you to talk, upping the speed when you open your mouth to speak. You know that he knows this, and you know that he thinks this whole thing is fucking hilarious but god you just want more so bad right now you don’t even care. He decides to throw you a bone.

“Want me to pull your shorts off?”

You’re so embarrassed right now, all you can do is whine, covering your face as you nod your head.

“Sorry, what was that?”

He mumbles this into the side of your thigh, trying to hide the shit-eating grin adorning his face right now. You feel like you’re going crazy.

“Anton, I swear to god-“

“I’ll pull them off if you admit you look sexy in them.”

His request throws you off-guard, he speaks up again as he takes in the confused look on your face.

“All you have to do is say that you think you’re sexy.”

“you can’t be serious.”

When he stares back at you incredulously you realize he is in fact serious.

“okay i’m sexy, now pull them off.”

He tsks, rolling his eyes as he moves to pull his hand away from you. You could scream you’re so frustrated.

“please just take them off.”

“not until you give me what I want.”

Before you can protest he goes back to lapping at your clit through your panties, the fabric starting to turn obscenely wet from the combination of his spit and your juices. You toss your head back, hands scrambling against the sheets now, the sudden stimulation overwhelming. You look down at him again, noticing for the first time how he humps against the mattress as he goes down on you. You whine out his name again, pleading with him to give you what you want already.

“Sorry baby, I can’t hear you.” He mumbles into your pussy.

It’s just not enough, its everything and its so much but its not enough. Your hands fly to his hair now, unable to stop yourself from humping his face. In between your whines you could swear you hear him let out a ‘cute’. Desperation overtakes you, fueled by the need to get off.

“’m sexy.”

You say it so quietly he can barely hear over the obscene sounds of his mouth sucking on wet fabric.

“baby?”

He glances up at you, and he nearly cums in his sweats right there. Your eyes are half lidded, cheeks pink with your hair all fucked up, whimpering as you still have a grip on him, trying to fuck your hips up into his face as he pulls off of you.

“I look so sexy….”

You sound embarrassed as you say it still, but it’s good enough for him, just happy to have you look so fucked out and shy just because of him.

He sits up briefly to pull his sweats down to his knees before he finally, finally, pulls off your boy shorts. It’s obscene the way they stick to your cunt, completely drenched from the previous activities. For the second time tonight, Anton nearly cums again just from finally seeing your pussy. He spares a glance at your face and you just look dazed and breathless, too needy to be touched to think of anything else.

He settles back between your legs, letting out a groan at the way his cock feels through the thinner material against the mattress. He runs a thumb against your clit once, just to see the way it throbs when he pulls away.

“s’cute.”

He plants an opened mouth kiss to your cunt, not even complaining when you move your hands back to rest in his hair, gently guiding his mouth back to your pussy. You could cry when you finally feel his tongue come into direct contact with your clit, letting out an obscene moan into the thick air. From there the two of you fall into a steady rhythm, you humping against his face as he humps against your sheets, both dazed and mesmerized by the other, just watching. When he brings two fingers to your entrance, you’re so wet theres hardly any resistance when he slides them in. You cry out as he crooks them up, pushing and pulling them slowly in and out of you. He’s gentle as he does it, just petting your insides, feeling the way you squeeze around him. He pulls away from your clit to rest a cheek on the inside of your thigh, just watching his fingers stroke in and out, watching the way you cling to them not wanting to let him go.

“anton.”

“mm.”

“m’gonna cum.”

He smiles at this, moving to suck on your clit again with an “okay baby.”

You cum exactly like that, watching your boyfriend fuck your mattress as he presses against that gummy spot inside you, lapping at your clit. When the stimulation becomes too much for your tired body you push his head away from between your legs. He moves away from your cunt to rest his head on your thigh, just staring up at you with starry eyes as he speeds up his movement against the mattress. You reach to bring his hand up to your face, sticking your tongue out to suck on the fingers that were previously inside you. He lets out a full body shiver, groaning and cumming as soon as you wrap your lips around his fingers.

“so sexy y/n, pretty baby.”

When his hips still, you both lie there, catching your breath. In the midst of your panting you notice your playlist keeps looping on a single song, you wonder to yourself how many times its played before you noticed. Quietly, so quietly you can barely hear yourself, you ask.

“you really think I’m pretty?”

You’re looking away again, trying to come off as nonchalant to ward off the vulnerability. You hear shuffling from the edge of your bed. Then his hands are gentle on your chin, pulling you in for a kiss. This one is sweeter than any of the ones before, his mouth gentle against yours, fingers delicately placed on the sides of your face to keep you in place. When he pulls away, he leaves one more kiss on your forehead.

“the prettiest.”

#riize smut #riize x reader #anton lee #anton smut #anton x reader

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janeyseymour · 1 month

Text

Your Song

a sweet one shot based on Elton John's Your Song. Attached is my own version of it, if you wanted to give it a listen!

WC: ~1.95k

Melissa is sitting next to you as the two of you soak up the sun in the Summer morning. You both have your cups of coffee, waking up with the sun and the world around you, not quite used to sleeping in just yet. You have your guitar with you, and you’re strumming little tunes and fingerpicking different licks that feed your heart and your soul as she watches you in awe. And then something happens, and you begin to play a tune that you really haven’t played in a while. You sing it in earnest as your heart swells with love for the woman beside you. She has a gentle hand on your knee, and she squeezes it gently when you sing the first line of one of her favorite songs.

It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside… I’m not one of those who can easily hide.

You remember when you first realized that you had feelings for the redhead who worked in the room next door to you. It was… unpredictable to say the least. And once you realized that, you did everything you could to hide those feelings for her. You were shocked that you were able to because well… you weren’t someone who could usually hide.

It took you months to confess your feelings to the redhead, when she was speaking of finally getting herself back out there, and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Just one date with me,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “Just one. And if it doesn’t work… it doesn’t work.”

She took you up on that offer, and here you were- three years later and married. You never thought you would get a chance with the absolutely stunning woman that was Melissa Schemmenti, but here the two of you were with shining diamonds on your fingers and the change in your last name to show for it. You haven’t been happier, and Melissa hasn’t been happier either- Barbara has attested to that too, so you know its the truth.

I don’t have much money, but boy if I did- I’d buy a big house where we both could live.

As two teachers working in center city Philadelphia in an underfunded and poorly run school, you weren’t rolling in dough- even though the redheaded second grade teacher has been with the district for over two decades and has unofficial tenure.

But the two of you have spoken about moving out of your tiny little townhouse and upgrading to a big house. One where the two of you could live, and you think you might have convinced her at this point to have at least one child of her own.

“I mean… I would love to have a little Schemmenti running around,” you admit shyly as your curled up on the couch one night. You’re watching some movie where the main character is pregnant, and it makes you yearn for a child of your own.

“Y/N,” Melissa sighs as she looks at you. “I’m too old to have a baby.”

“But I’m not,” you tell her. “And… you’re so good with the kids at school, and I’ve seen the way that you go out of your way to make babies smile while we’re grocery shopping.”

Your wife purses her lips. “M-maybe. But I have to think on it.”

You give her your best puppy dog eyes.

“If we can get the money for a nice house and to afford IVF… I don’t think it’s off the table.”

You made her pinky swear that if you ever had the money and you were still at the age where you could bear a child, the two of you would go through with it. After that, you got a job at the local diner waitressing on Sundays. She hates it because it steals you from her, but she always comes in to visit you and keep you company. The money that you make immediately goes into a jar that has the words ‘Future’ written on it in your loopy handwriting.

So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do… You see I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue. Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen. Who are you kidding? You could never in a million years the beautiful shade of green that your wife’s eyes are. They were the first thing you noticed when you met her five years ago. She didn’t believe you when you told her that.

“Was it my boobs?” she chuckles on your third date.

You roll your eyes. “Your eyes. They’re… mesmerizing. I saw the way that they sparkled when you were talking about your kids or someone you loved, and I was determined to make your sweet eyes sparkle like that… did I succeed?”

“I would say so,” she smirks as she leans in to kiss you.

“Good,” you mumble against her lips. “They’re gorgeous, you know.”

“My eyes?” the redhead practically swoons.

You see your opportunity, and you run with it. “No. Your boobs,” you deadpan.

She smacks you on the arm playfully, and you put your arms up in defense. “Hey! I was joking!”

Since meeting her, you’re positive that her eyes are the sweetest ones you’ve ever seen. They’re so… expressive. You can see in her beautiful eyes when she loves something or someone, and you consider yourself the luckiest woman alive to be able to get to see them every morning when you wake up.

And you can tell everybody this is your song. It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done- I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words how wonderful life is now you’re in the world.

You didn’t even really mean for this Elton John to turn into your song, but it did. You were just playing around on the guitar that she keeps in her classroom while you waited for her to finish up dismissal duty for the day.

If you’re being quite honest, you forgot that you even knew you could play that song until you heard it on the radio in her car this morning. So, after a few misfired chords, you begin to play and lay your voice over the simplistic yet stunning chords.

She comes in, ready to head out for the night, when she sees you sitting up on her counter, criss crossed and with the stringed instrument in hand. And then she hears your voice. And she can’t do anything but lean against the doorframe and listening to your soft and angelic voice.

When you fire out the last chord, she starts clapping softly from where she stands, and it startles you. You immediately turn red upon seeing her.

"I didn’t know you play,” Melissa says softly as she comes in.

“I dabble,” you shrug as you put her guitar back where it lives.

She furrows her brows. “I wouldn’t call that dabbling. How long you been playing?”

“Since I was thirteen,” you shrug. “My dad taught me basic chords, and I just picked up the rest.”

“Well, you’re damn good. And I love that song.”

“I do too.”

“Play it again for me when we get to my place?” she asks as she grabs your bags.

You do, and she sits and watches, mesmerized.

“Those words are true, you know,” you say softly. “Life is wonderful now that you’re in the world… my world.”

She kisses you gently as she wraps her arms around your waist. “It’s like I see in technicolor now.”

If I was a sculptor, but then again, or a man who makes a position in a traveling show. I know it’s not much, but it’s the best I can do. My gift is my song, and this one’s for you.

“Do you ever think we would be better off if we weren’t teachers? Or at least one of us wasn’t?” you ask Melissa.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean like… if I was a sculptor, or… someone who makes potions in a traveling show,” you sigh softly. “Like in our song… maybe then we could have a big wedding.”

Your fiancée rolls her eyes as she pauses making dinner to wrap her arms around you. “I think that we both love teaching, and I think that I love this little life of ours, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“I just… I know it’s not much,” you frown slightly. “We could be so much better off.”

“We’re doing the best that we can do, and that’s more than enough for me,” Melissa promises you as she kisses your cheek.

“I know that’s what you say, but-”

“If you were a sculptor or a man who made potions in a traveling show, I would never see you,” she says softly. “Being on the same schedule is really nice.”

You smile a bit sadly. “I just wish that-”

“I don’t wish for anything else… we have a perfect life,” Melissa promises you. “Besides, you know I don’t want a big wedding- having just our Abbott family and our families.”

“A-are you sure?”

“As long as I have you, it’s enough,” the redhead kisses you softly.

Your big day has arrived, and as of an hour ago, you are officially Mrs. Y/N Schemmenti. After a simple ceremony in the courtyard at the school, the place that brought the two of you together in the first place, you move the ‘reception’ over to Barbara’s house.

Your wife had insisted on making all of the food for the party, and by some grace of God, the task at hand was completed last night. Barb spent this morning decorating and giving Gerald detailed instruction of how to lay it out so it was ready for when you all got to the Howard household before heading out to witness the two of you tie the knot.

When you get there, it’s beautiful- more beautiful than you had expected. There’s a stunning balloon arch, a garden of flowers, pictures of the two of you, and a few tables set up perfectly.

Your eyes well, as much as you will them not to. “How did we afford all of this?” you whisper to Melissa.

“We didn’t.” You look over at her, and her eyes are shining with tears too. “Barb?”

“The Abbott crew threw it together for our two favorite teachers,” the kindergarten teacher smiles. “Go on.”

Mr. Johnson announces the two of you in with the most sincerity that you’ve ever heard from him before he says softly, “And for your first dance…”

He hits play on the phone that is connected, and the familiar melody melts over your body as you pull your wife in close.

The Abbott clan and your families watch as the two of you sway back and forth, dancing together as a married couple for the first time. Barbara films it, tears of happiness falling down her cheeks.

“I hope you don’t mind… I hope you don’t mind, that I put down in words… how wonderful life is, now you’re in the world,” you sing to her softly as she rests her head on your shoulder.

Life has been strange up until this time in your life, and you’ve had your doubts about love and life before… but with Melissa Schemmenti by your side? Life is wonderful.

#cover #singing #ukulele #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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sc0tters · 24 days

Text

Friend in Need | Luca Fantilli

summary: who would have thought fake dating could end up so messy?

request: yes/no

warnings: mentions of underaged drinking, allusions to sex, swearing.

word count: 2.39k

authors note: I’m embarrassed to say how long it took me to write this after I made @fantillisdaylight pick what I wrote next 😭 this one has been in the works for a while now but I’m glad it is finally done and I like how it ended up.

You didn’t know how you landed up in this position.

It all started in Italy, the time you were meant to have to enjoy the company of your best friend before he went off to the NHL. Adam had been your person for years on end and this was going to be the first time you were going to be away from him. So during this trip you aimed to spend as much time as you could with Adam, but even with that you still needed your time alone. This time it came in the form of tanning as you watched him play football on the beach. The reason you weren’t with him was that you were using the trip to fall out of love with him.

So as Adam stood on the beach laughing at something of one of the local girls said to him, you couldn’t help but notice the shadow that formed above you “you’re gonna ruin my tan!” You whined cutting yourself off as you saw Luca standing above you “sorry sweets.” Luca teased as he sat next to you pushing your feet off of the end of your lounger.

Luca had been the irritating older brother Adam always had. He was only three months older than you but somehow you never found a way to connect with him in the way you connected with Adam “you enjoy watching him try to get laid?” Luca teased causing your cheeks to grow warm as you tucked your hair behind your ears.

The smirk he had on his face hardened as he ran his fingers through his hair “I do not care what happens to him in his bed.” You shook your head making Luca laugh “so the crush you’ve had on him-” he couldn’t finish his sentence as you slapped your hand over his mouth.

Your eyes were wide when you realised he knew “when I remove my hand you will not say a word about it?” The hockey player nodded as he listened to you “I think someone should have noticed with you having this crush since you were six.” Luca pulled back when you went to quiet him again.

You swore it wasn’t nearly as obvious “it’s for the best.” You knew you couldn’t argue with him not when Luca could spot your lying cues from a mile away “you know I would believe what you said if you actually dated a guy.” It was no secret to anyone that all you did was hook up with guys, you opted for it instead as you couldn’t bring yourself to like someone else.

Luca sighed as he placed his hand on your knee “look all I’m saying is that I could help you out.” He offered with a sparkle running across his eyes “unless you plan on getting your brother to like me I don’t see how this is going to work out?” You grumbled pushing your hair out of your face to focus on him.

He swore his mouth when dry “I’ll date you.” The hockey players offer made you furrow your eyebrows “what would be in it for you?” Somehow you were still ready to hear him out like you were out of ideas.

He shrugged thinking about all of the different reasons why “Rutger says Molly has a new boyfriend and I need her to know I’ve moved on.” Luca was spending his first weekend home with the McGroarty family and he really didn’t know how was meant to face his ex with her new happy boyfriend “I’m in.” You nodded holding your hand out for him to shake.

But you pulled it away when you came up with a list of agreements “we need some agreements though.” You pointed out making him sit there in silence “we gotta be used to kissing for anyone to think we are together.” Both of you were more than physical so it was only logical to think that you would be making out with your boyfriend.

It made him smirk as his fingers traced figures on your knee “and how do we feel about casual sex?” Your cheeks turned red matching the shade of your bikini “not gonna have my boy fucking anyone else.” You grumbled making him smile “you should probably know how to kiss me then?” Luca teased making you scoff.

You rolled your eyes as you shook your head “you’re an ass you know that right?” You mumbled leaning forward as you cupped his cheek letting your lips graze his “and your boyfriend now too.” Luca pointed out as he grinned pecking your lips once more.

That was well over seven months ago and somehow you were still in this entire thing with Luca. The Christmas break was originally when you assumed that it would end. It would have been the perfect time for things to end but you actually found yourself no longer in love with Adam, instead with his brother.

Your friends were oblivious to the lies that your relationship lay on, sometimes you even thought that Luca opted to forget about it as well. He seemed so happy with his arm around you at parties as he would whisper those sweet nothings into your ear. But you started feeling like you were going insane, there was never the promise that he was yours.

Because whilst you hoped Luca was falling in love with you too, nothing made that feeling you felt in bed with him palatable. The hockey player would kiss your head and within an instant you were feeling like the only girl in the world, or at least that was how you felt until you were back in your dorm alone. Reminded of the fact, that Luca was yours for a mutual agreement that was meant to benefit you both.

It seemed that everyone became your worst enemy when you returned to campus from the December break. Every girl that looked at Luca, was all of a sudden flirting with him and you found yourself going insane. Of course Luca never went for any of them yet you thought that it was only out of respect for you. As you two grew further apart, the worst fears came through your mind as he seemed to have less and less time for you.

Part of you felt stupid though as you got upset because you two were never really together “look I want you there tonight in my jersey.” Luca spoke softly as he leaned against your bed “you sure that Maisie wouldn’t be better in it?” Your words were sharp as you turned to face him again.

It irritated him as he roll his eyes “if I wanted Maisie I would be in her room wouldn’t I?” The hockey player snapped taking you back, it wasn’t that he raised his voice. It was the fact that he made no effort to suppress your concerns, he never did “I don’t want to go if you want to act like that.” You grumbled as you looked down to the sleeves of your hoodie.

Luca watched you avoid his gaze “I need to get going.” He sighed looking at the time on his phone as he was soon to be late to the walk in “bye.” The boy mumbled leaving you with not even a kiss on the head as he left you alone.

You couldn’t help but frown as you pulled your legs closer “how were you this clueless?” You groaned staring at the first picture that was taken after you two started this lie. Luca had his arm wrapped around you as you grinned, both blissfully unaware of the camera that Adam used to take that picture. That moment in time felt so real yet now here you sat willing to give up everything to get back to that.

Just as anyone could have predicted the boys won, but as the celebrated the win one player seemed distracted. Luca stared at the door hoping you would show up. He still felt bad about leaving you in the way that he did “where is your girlfriend?” Rutger furrowed his eyebrows as he had grown used to see you by his side “she isn’t feeling well.” Luca lied as he frowned.

Rutger didn’t fall for the answer as he scoffed “Kayleigh was told about the fight.” You had grown close to the blonde over the last few months “look she just got jealous about Maisie.” Luca shoved his hands into his pockets.

It made the blonde boy laugh “you really think you being here when she’s not your real girlfriend-” Rutgers scoff was short lived when Luca’s hand slapped over his mouth “how do you know about that?” Luca’s voice was barely above a whisper as he began to wonder how many other people knew about it too.

The younger boy rolled his eyes “y/n told me about it in November when she got drunk.” Luca remembered that night, you had just had the worst week of tests and got drunk.

Rutger watched you fall into the seat next to him “you look happy.” He smiled holding his arm out for you to hug him “like loving Luca.” You confessed as you nodded letting a grin paint your face as you watched Luca excitedly win a game of beer pong.

The American was happy to see both of his closest friends in this relationship “but he doesn’t love me.” You added with a huff making the boy grow confused “you think your boyfriend doesn’t love you?” Rutger swore it was the alcohol talking as he sat up straight to look at you.

He watched you nod “it’s like fake dating.” You shrugged before your eyes went wide “don’t tell him!” You raised your voice causing people to look in your direction.

Rutger was quick to shush you “you guys are just telling people you’re together?” He cocked his head as you nodded “but I think I kind of love him now.” You huffed pressing your head against the couch behind you.

Luca felt his mouth go dry as Rutger recalled the interaction “I should go.” The Canadian nodded to himself as he got up “don’t you want to stay with Maisie.”Rutger teased knowing all too well about your issues with her.

The way Luca let his lips press into a fine line made him laugh “just go get your girl.” Rutger took the beer from the Fantilli boys hand as he ushered him off.

Luckily for him you hadn’t left your room, instead opting to call Adam as you missed your best friend “I’m sorry I’m not there for you.” Adam frowned as all you had said was that you and Luca had fought “is it wrong for me to wish that he didn’t go to that party?” Your question was met with a knock at your door that had both of you going quiet.

It was weird watching the door “y/n please can we talk?” Luca pleaded from the other side of the door “I think your wishes are going to be answered.” Adam smiled as he sent you a wave before he hung up.

You walked with caution to your door before you opened it “look I need you to be really honest with me right now.” The hockey player began as he pushed past you letting himself into your dorm “do I have to?” You whined looking at your feet.

He nodded watching you shut the door behind yourself “do you love me?” The question made your heart jump into your throat “of course I do I mean we’ve known each other forever.” You tucked your hair behind your ear as you let out a soft laugh.

But that only made him grow irritated “you know that it’s not what I’m asking about.” He pointed out as he crossed his arms “you don’t want to know my answer.” You quipped back as you chewed at the inside of your cheek.

The boy walked closer to you leaving you to step back until your back hit the door “like hell I don’t.” Luca raised his voice as he shook his head “look if you can’t maybe I should go.” He sighed taking a step back as tears formed in his waterline.

Your palms began to grow sweaty “yes I love you.” You blurted out seeing him freeze “I have for months but that wasn’t meant to happen so I try to hide it.” You rambled on not seeing how he smiled at the fact that your cheeks went red.

Part of Luca began to feel cruel as he let you carry on “look I want all of you, not some half ass agreement where you just end up in my bed.” You raked your fingers through your hair as you sighed trying to remain straight faced as the boy placed his hands on your waist “you have all of me.” His words were so simple yet they did so much for you.

He smiled as he stepped closer to you shutting the gap between you both “I want to be yours for real.” The hockey player mumbled as he nodded “I love you.” It was his turn to get talkative as you stood there in what felt like shock.

All of the months of dating under a false pretence lead up to this “do we want to do this for real then?” You cocked your head as you smiled “you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that.” He nodded as he kissed your lips enjoying how it felt to know that you were finally all his.

Your hands wrapped around his neck pulling him close like you were scared to lose him “but just to be clear you will tell Maisie to go fuck herself if she continues flirting with you?” You pulled away making him laugh “think it might be funnier if you get the chance to do it for f’me.” Luca countered making you press your lips into a fine line.

He grinned as he pulled you even closer to him as he pulled the two of you onto your bed “I’m kidding!” He laughed as he kissed your lips once more knowing that he was going to enjoy his night with you where you were finally his.

#ambers 500 celly #amber writes fics #Luca fantilli fics #Luca fantilli imagines #luca fantilli oneshot #umich imagines #umich oneshots #hockey imagines #hockey oneshots

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renardiererin · 8 months

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THE GREAT WAR a social media au starring rockstar!rintarou suna, and musician!reader

synopsis -> you used to know rintarou. you knew him back before the world did. you used to know him better than you knew yourself. but nothing perfect ever lasts, does it? after awhile he just stopped responding. you tried to block out every headline you saw featuring his name, and focus on your own music career rather than his own. but when one of his bandmates reaches out to you and asks you to open for their upcoming tour, you find yourself stuck traveling all around the world with the man whose inflicted pain inspired most of your first album.

warnings -> potentially some suggestive content (but no explicit smut), probably some flashback moments, probably alcohol content, swearing, etc.

tags -> smau, social media au, rintarou suna, rintarou suna smau, celebrity smau, rockstar suna, exes to ?, little bits of humor i hope, angst, band au

ongoing! [8/22/23] playlist

profiles

akaashi fanclub / dicks with instruments

table of contents / masterlist *titles may be subject to change along the way !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🌙

act i - the act of acceptance 1. my knuckles were bruised like violets

2. i can't say hello to you and risk another goodbye

3. i know we cut all the ties but you never really listen

4. yes i got your letter, yes i'm doing better

5. seeing you tonight... it's a bad idea, right?

6. love is never logical

7. when facing the things we turn away from

8. i wanna get him back (i want sweet revenge; i want him again)

9. we had matching wounds

10. did you see me on tv?

11. put my name at the top of your list

12. i’ve gotten what i wanted, it’s just not what i imagined

13. none of it matters and none of it ends, you just feel like shit over and over again

14. stop checking your mailbox for confessions of love ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🌙

act ii - the act of love and loss 1. still all over me like a white stained dress i can't wear anymore

2. the small things that you do are what remind me why i fell for you

3. don't just sit in front of me and wait for me to talk

4. flashback: i was only 17 when she first made me feel like a man

5. i don't wanna face the music but i still wanna dance with you

6. i can see you saying: "meet me tonight"

7. you, oh you, it's always been you

8. i'm captivated by you baby like a firework show

9. imma make a move, if you know what i mean

10. jump then fall into you

11. your faithless love's the only hoax i believe in

12. you told me you love me, so why did you go away?

13. i lived in your chess game

14. when i'm nothing new

15. i hate that because of you i can't love you

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🌙 act iii - the act of isolation and irritability 1. i know that i should hate you

2. when did it end? all the enjoyment?

3. falling feels like flying til the bone crush

4. flashback: for awhile you were all mine

5. i hope you're not happy without me

6. i love you but i need another year alone

7. i didn't have it in myself to go with grace

8. flashback: when i'd fight, you used to tell me i was brave

9. come back to me like you could if you'd just say you're sorry

10. i try to ignore it everytime you phone... but i never come close

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🌙

act iv - the act of reconciliation 1. you used a fork once

2. you will love me until you resent me

3. i wish you knew that i'll never forget you as long as i live

4. i miss you too much to be mad anymore

5. can't turn back now i'm haunted

6. if you're out there if you're somewhere if you're moving on

7. you can hear it on the way home

8. this could either break my heart or bring it back to life

9. don't want no other shade of blue but you

10. until the poets run out of rhymes

11. i want to wear his initial on a chain round my neck

12. this love came back to me

13. what if i told you i'm a mastermind?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🌙

act v - the act of the epilogue 1. outside they're push and shoving / you're in the kitchen humming

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🌙

a/n: hii okay i haven't written an smau in literal years so im just hoping this doesn't suck and that you can enjoy it :) mwah i love each and every one of you who is reading this note & this smau rn <3 thank you all my loves !

taglist

@kiyoily @akumakitsune21 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @dani-shitting-around @alienvarmint @reverie-starlight @honeythebarbie @bootlegroach @tsukiran @xbl00dy-r0s3x @universal-s1ut @koushisbabie @breakmyheartlater @phoenix-eclipses @ris-krispie @coyloves @2baddies-1porsche @girlkissersco @ilovejujitsukaisen @dontmindtheevie

taglist is open <33 comment here to be added !

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renxholics · 1 year

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❝ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ! ❞

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ❝ 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! ❞

﹟azul : jade : floyd : x gn!reader. no cw/tw. soft blurbs of calling them pretty, because they are your pretty boy. established relationship. absolutely not proofread.

༘˚₊➳❥ 𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ straddling the waist of your beloved octomer boyfriend, you couldn’t help but stare at his face, admiring every bit of it. his gorgeous eyes, his hair tickling his face, his kissable lips with his little beauty mark, all of it were beautiful to you. as he gulped under your gaze, you could imagine his mind worriedly racing with thoughts, assuming untrue and foolish self-loathing things about himself again. “you’re my pretty boy, please don’t think so little of yourself, Azul,” you hummed, smiling gently at him as he lets out a cough, unsure if he had heard you correctly. “what?” he squeaked out, cheeks adorning a red shade as he tries to look you in the eyes but finds himself gazing at the floor. a part of him hoped his misheard you, but the other much more selfish part of him hoped what he heard was right, and was the genuine truth. “pretty boy,” you repeat again, a little louder this time while brushing his hair behind his ear as you press your forehead against his, fingers tracing his bottom lip as he parts it slightly, his cheeks burning even hotter than before as his eyes meet your’s again. too close, he thinks, even if the two of you were dating what gave you the right to fluster him and make him feel so special? “you’re so pretty i wonder how you don’t get it. i guess i’ll have to make you realize it myself.” before he could respond to your praise, he finds his fingers in your hair as the two of you close your eyes, exchanging many kisses.

༘˚₊➳❥ 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “you’re so pretty when you smile like that, especially when you show me your teeth,” you uttered out, fork digging into your pasta as you twirled it, “i also love the way your eyes light up when you talk about what you love,” you continued, blowing on it as your boyfriend paused mid sentence by your sudden comment, staring at you wide eyed and mouth agape. swallowing your bite, you look up to see for the very first time a genuine look of shock on Jade’s face, startled by your choice of words. “are you alright, Jade?” You asked as he regained his usual composure. “i am quite alright. it’s just you never seem to fail to amuse me no matter how much time passes,” he replied as you laugh a little, putting your cutlery down and wiping your lips with a napkin before getting up from your seat, choosing to move into his arms as you wrap your hands around his neck. “neither do you,” you hummed, giving him a kiss right underneath his eye as you rub your thumb across his cheek. “you’re such a pretty boy, my pretty boy. i’m so lucky to have you and to be able to listen to you talk about what you love.” with zero hesitation, one of his hands captured your free one, the other against the crevice of your back pulling you closer to him, lips meeting your’s in a slow and passionate kiss. truly, no one but you could make him feel like this, prefect.

༘˚₊➳❥ 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ it only took a few seconds of entering monstro lounge for you to find yourself tackled into a huge hug by your boyfriend, him peppering kisses all over your face with little giggles, whining over how much he missed you since classes. “i’ve missed you too my pretty boy.” you cooed, squishing his cheeks between your fingers. the second what you said registered with him Floyd’s eyes lit up, nuzzling his face further into your palms as he squished you against him harder, eyes staring at you expectantly. “aww, does my pretty boy want more affection?” you ask teasingly, pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose and then onto his lips, deepening it before remembering just where you were. as soon as you pulled back your boyfriend’s eyes narrowed as though betrayed you’d suddenly stop as a pout formed on his lips. “i’ll give you all the kisses you want when your shift is done, alright?” you console him as he perks back up, grinning at you. “you better keep your word or i’ll squeeze you tight, shrimpy! remember, i’m your pretty boy.” he proudly said, dragging you to a table in his section where he could watch you sit and inevitably join you after ditching his shift.

@𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐗𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐒 : no plagiarizing, reposting, or claiming as your’s.

following channels [tag list] : @h0n3ysgh0st : didn’t really have much time to write recently last month, sorry! here’s a quick update post while im working on the bigger ones! i haven’t written in awhile so i needed a proper warm-up!

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland x reader #twst azul ashengrotto x reader #twisted wonderland azul #twst jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland jade #twisted wonderland floyd #twst floyd x reader #twst floyd leech #twst jade leech #twst azul ashengrotto #༘˚₊➳❥ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆.✉️ ͙۪۪˚┊

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vampcubus · 1 year

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𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃! : 𝐀𝐎𝐓

a/n: this is literally 5k words of pegging nonsense, most of these “headcanons” also include additional lil blurbs because i’m a psychopath.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : levi, erwin, reiner, bertholdt, floch, jean, porco, and armin.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, female-bodied reader, dom!reader, all boys are subs here, pegging, fauxjobs, dacryphilia, spanking, brat taming, spitting, a splash of mommy kink for armin and jean’s, strap referred to as cock because that's hot, men in lingerie, praise, degradation.

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

— He’s so grumpy about it leading up to it, grouching about how he’s gonna put you on stable cleaning duty if you do it badly. Shuts up real quick when you’re not only good at it, but it feels too good. Like it ruins him. He’s so out of control of his voice and his body, the way he arches into your thrusts, hands scrambling across your back and thighs, trying to pull you impossibly closer.

— At first, he thinks everything feels like it's too much and that he’s gonna break, but once he’s used to taking dick enough to not go slack-jawed every time you put it in? Expect to step up your game, cus this man knows exactly what he wants from you. Catch him on a day he needs to get out of his head and if you aren’t fucking him so hard it’s pushing him up the bed? He’ll start fucking himself on you since you’re “obviously not going to give me what I need.”

— Doesn’t really care what position he gets dicked down in, but he’s one of the few that isn’t afraid to ride you. He looks so good doing it too, it’s when he really lets loose and lets himself give into mindless abandon where all he can think about is how fucking good the toy feels inside him and how badly he wants to cum.

— You never know if he’s gonna be the biggest brat that fights you every step of the way just to get put in his place, or your obedient little pillow princess that wants to be nothing more than a hole for you to fill.

— While some days he might benefit from a hard dom to rein him in, it’s the soft doms that absolutely destroy him. Pile on the praise and affirming words as you gently rock into him, pressing the sweetest kisses to his face, tell him how much you love how pliant and vulnerable he is for you. You’ll have him shaking and trying not to cry as you make love to him like he’s something precious to be treasured (cus he is) because he’s so fucking soft and full of affection for you that it hurts.

— He’s a demanding bottom that’s for sure, so much so you might actually have to grip him by the hair and pin him down just to get him to shut up and listen to you.

“I think you’re forgetting who’s in control here, Levi. Maybe I’ve been spoiling you too much if you think you can just take anything you want from me.” You growl into his ear, tugging his face up from the mattress when his response is muffled. “What was that?”

“And so what if I do, what’ll you do if I don’t listen, huh?” Levi pants, cock hard and leaking into the sheets. He grinds his hips back onto your fake cock despite clearly being told not to move, and he yelps when your hand comes crashing down on his ass so hard he sees blanks for a moment.

And then you do it again, and again, until his ass is so red with your handprints it’s almost the same shade as his flushed face. He’s in tears, throat raw from the shouting. He sniffles as your hand grazes over the abused flesh of his ass, spreading him open in a way that makes him bury his face into the crook of his arm.

“I haven’t heard an apology yet, ‘vi. I’d suggest you make it good too or I’ll give you twenty more and then leave you like this.” you cooed, your tone dripping with a sweetened venom that makes him clench around the toy regardless of the obvious despair he’d feel if you actually followed through with your threat.

It’s not the spankings that frighten him, but the idea of you pulling out and leaving him to hump shamefully into his fist afterwards. His hand hadn’t quite felt the same since yours touched him, and that was all too painfully clear in the way he’d paw at you whenever he needed release.

“Fuck — Please don’t! ‘m sorry! ’m sorry, I’ll be good now, I promise. ‘m just a slut for your cock, I was greedy. Please, don’t stop!” he begs wetly, and you croon at the sight of tears streaming from those pretty gunmetal eyes.

“Oh? Gonna be good now? I don’t believe you.” You scoffed, hand clapping down on his raw ass to enunciate your words. He cries out pathetically at the sting but doesn’t start to panic until you start to pull out of him.

“No, please! I’m sorry, ‘m sorry for being a brat. You want me to beg — fucking fine, I’ll beg you — please! please fuck me, I’ll do anything just, please! You can spank me all you want, I deserve it, just finish fucking me. I'm going crazy—” he slurs, cut off abruptly by the way you suddenly thrust back into him.

“Oh, good boy~ I guess your mouth really is good for something other than whining.” You praise, releasing his arms in favor of holding his hips still so you can carry on pounding into him.

His grey-blue eyes go blank, and the rest of the night is a blur.

𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

— Pls this man doesn’t know what tf pegging is 💀 You'll have to sit down and explain it all to him and he’ll sit there calmly, just nodding and asking the occasional question. He’s surprisingly chill about it??? He’s very much the “okay, dear” husband, it’s like nothing surprises him.

— He’s significantly less composed when you actually get down to it, he gets this cute lil blush on his face when you start playing with his hole, fingering him open to take your cock and hhhhh the noises he makes. He’s tense and it takes a while for him to relax enough to stretch around two fingers but when you find his prostate his whole body jerks as if electrocuted.

“Oh, that — what’s that.” he shudders, propping himself up on his elbow to watch in amazement.

“That would be your prostate, it’ll come in handy later,” you giggled, steadily pumping your fingers in and out of him, curling them to brush over that spongy spot again just to hear him gasp and squirm into the sheets. Especially when his legs keep instinctively inching closer and he has to spread them for you again. And by the time you’ve got three fingers gliding against his walls with ease, he’s right on the edge, blonde bangs slicked to his forehead and his arm over his face as you keep him there, deliberately avoiding his prostate.

The cute expressions he makes and his politeness as a sub might make you want to be gentle with him, but please don’t. He lives for being put in his place, everywhere else he’s the boss of everyone, and that can be exhausting sometimes. Having a partner that isn’t afraid to remind him who’s the real boss is very refreshing.

Like you’re going so slow, watching his face for signs of discomfort, asking him if he’s okay when you press deeper into him and he rasps out “You can be rough with me, darling. I’m not fragile.” His thick fingers clutch at your hip, his hips bucking hard into the gentle rolls of your hips, gasping out when the tip of the toy drags against his walls the way he wants it. “If you want.” He adds later, looking a bit shy — which believe me is a FEAT.

“Well, if you say so,” you laugh breathlessly, propping one of his legs over your shoulder and bracing one hand on his hip so you can snap your hips into his in a way that knocks the air from his lungs. He groans long and deep in his chest and you only smirk, delighted by the way his voice gets higher when your fingers encircle his neglected cock.

— You’d think Erwin would be the type to be condescending about his cute small partner pegging him, but the moment you find his prostate his brain shuts off and he’s your dumb obedient slut <3

— That doesn’t mean he isn’t a brat sometimes because he totally is, he likes to test your patience just to see how you’ll admonish him for it. You can see it in his eyes when he challenges you, that “yeah I just did that, what’re you gonna do about it?” look. It’s just so hard to focus when you’re fucking him so good, arm pinned to his back as you pound into him from behind after he gave you too much lip.

— No preference on positions, but you can tell he much prefers to see you.

— Also does prefer you to fuck him with your fingers if that means anything. You asked him about it playfully one night and he told you it felt more personal to have your flesh against his. Which honestly makes you want a real dick even more... maybe just for a day or two to explore n have a fun time. (pls i’d be so irresponsible with it tho) Like he’s getting bent over the desk he spends so much time at ASAP.

𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐍

— Omg literally baby boy.

— He’s down, no convincing is required. He’s always been a little curious about what it would feel like to have something inside him, and sometimes when you’re rubbing circles into his perineum (the cum button lmao) while you have his cock down your throat, he wonders what it would feel like if you moved your fingers lower. This whole idea probably snowballed from him shyly asking you if you’d finger him one night, and boy was it a treat to watch him fall apart like that — without you even having to touch his cock.

— Fuck him in front of a mirror pls just do it, he’ll be so needy and undone, staring at his own face as you pound into him from behind. It’s so embarrassing having to look at his own debauched reflection but then you start telling him how pretty he is, babbling about what a good fucking boy he was being, and his golden eyes roll back into his head, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

— And when he doesn't have the strength to hold his head up anymore, grab his jaw and hold his face forward for him. Bonus points if you slip your fingers into his mouth to hold his mouth open when he tries to conceal his pretty noises.

— Obeys your every order without question, no matter how demeaning. Need him to spread himself open for you? Done. Need him to fuck himself on your strap n do all the work to chase his orgasm? Anything for you. (He’s so cute when he rides you, bulging thighs trembling as he bounces himself on your lap, lips parted so his tongue can lick over them.) Want him to beg on his hands and knees and grovel for you to fuck him? He’s already at your feet with his forehead and hands flat on the floor.

— Likes to get fucked sideways the best! Just the feeling of your whole body pressed against his back, your lips on his nape, one hand holding his leg up and the other delicately wrapped around his throat <333 he’s in heaven.

𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑

— Baby boy #2

— Literally cannot handle being pegged, like he’s the one that moans “it’s too much!” “I can’t take it, it’s too big!” but locks his legs around your hips if you even try to pull out.

— Bertholdt never imagined having something inside him would feel so good, he always has this disbelieving expression on his face when you press inside him, narrow hips lifting off the bed to meet you halfway in his eagerness. Can’t help but stare at you as you fuck into him, green eyes half-lidded and adoring as he takes in your focused expression. He thinks you’re so so cute, even when you’re blowing his back out.

— He’s so much bigger than you it must look comical, but you don’t have to prove anything to him, he knows you’re the boss.

— Speaking of which he’s so obedient and eager to please, and will let you fold him in any position you like. As shy as he is, he greatly prefers positions he can see your face in. Eye contact is very important to him, everything about Bertholdt just feels so intimate and raw. Though he has a hard time keeping his eyes open when he gets close to cumming, unless you tell him to keep them open. Not like he’ll be seeing much through the pleasured tears — he’s a crier <3

— He begs for your cock without you having to tell him, and he does it so well you couldn’t possibly deny him. Not when he cries and squirms so pathetically, nimble fingers tugging you closer by the straps of your harness. (pls that's so hot to me) and if you decide to be mean to him and make him wait, tell him “hmmm, I don’t think you really want it.” He’ll sob, his desperation spearing through his usual demure nature as he presents himself for you, pleading and babbling about how badly he wants you to take care of him.

— He gets so flustered and teary when you start praising him, telling him what a good boy he was being, how pretty he looked beneath you, what pretty noises he was making.

— He’s also so loud??? Like every partner’s dream tbh. Ordinarily, he tries to swallow his noises out of self-consciousness, but he just can’t when you’re bullying that sweet spot inside him. Unleashes the sweetest moans in between delirious sobs of your name and mantras of “please.”

Bertholdt’s a dream all spread out on your bright white sheets, tanned skin wrapped up in dark green lace lingerie you got just for him. You were right about it bringing out his eyes, half-lidded and glimmering as your hands smooth reverently over his body. Your nails scratch lightly over the fine dark hairs of his happy trail, deliberately avoiding his straining erection barely covered by the green lace panties. He’s so long his cute pink head peeks out the top, leaking with pre and twitching as your fingers trail close but never close enough.

He whines long and high, trying not to grind against your fake cock resting distractingly in the space between his thigh and hip. You’ve already stretched and plugged him, the pretty green gem adorning the base of the plug peeking out from under the panties you’ve been so hesitant to rip off. He likes the lingerie, and he feels pretty in it. You spent a good chunk of the night telling him just how gorgeous he was while taking pictures, and then later overwhelming him with praise as you stretched him on your fingers.

But all he wants now is for you to tear it off and have your way with him, the thought makes his inner walls clench and his hips buck involuntarily.

“Feeling impatient, Bertie?” you hum, and he nods frantically, legs spreading on instinct at the familiar sound of the lube being uncapped.

“Yes — want it so bad. Y/n please.”

His whole body shudders as you slip out the plug and replace it with your lubed fingers, but it’s not enough.

He’s ready, he’s been ready. He needs you and you’re teasing him.

Finally, you start pulling the layers of lace off his body, garter belt and stockings first. The intricate jade-colored bra goes next, and you can’t help but trace his hardened peaks teasingly as you feel the fabric away, amused when he squirms and catches your wrists to redirect them to his tented panties. Resigned, you free him from his lace prison, and Bertholdt gasps as his cock slaps against his belly.

“You’re so pretty, Bert.”

“I’d be prettier with you fucking me.” he pouts, and you concede with a giggle, lining the toy up with his hole and pressing in oh so slowly.

Bertholdt’s mouth falls open, brows knit together as you finally slide home. He moans out loudly in relief, nearly in tears after hours of your incessant teasing, you’re finally where he needs you.

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐇 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

— Takes your strap the best out of all of them tbh. He’s content to lie there and let you fold him in half as you rearrange his guts. Will even hold his legs up for you <3 goes absolutely crazy for your strap, he’s so shameless. Will beg for you to be rough with him and make him cry. The best boy to take your frustration out on, he gets off on being used as a pathetic little fucktoy.

— HUGE BRAT, will taunt you and rile you up as much as possible. He likes to be punished and tossed around, pretends to try and wriggle away just to feel you drag him back by the hips and pin him down to the bed. Most of the time he’s gonna make you work for his submission, which only makes his inevitable defeat that much sweeter. You can tell you’ve played right into his hand when you see him looking up at you with half-lidded brown eyes and that pleased smirk.

— Edge him till he’s a sobbing begging mess, overstimulate him till he can’t feel his legs anymore, spank him until his ass is so red with welts he can’t sit right for weeks. He whimpers so pathetically when you ghost your hands over his ass through his clothes days later, knowing he’s still sore but the pain is making him hard again.

— Floch does have his obedient moods where all he wants is to be is a slave to your whims, step on his dick and make him cum all over your boot, and then order him to lick it off. Floch isn’t entirely good at holding in orgasms or cumming on command (this is a man that can cum untouched if you talk dirty enough to him) When he’s like this he’ll do anything, even give you faux jobs like it's your actual dick. Doesn’t even complain when you force his head further down until tears prick his eyes, just looks up at you with that hazy look that indicates there isn’t a thought behind those eyes.

— Doesn’t care what position you press him into, but he feels more vulnerable in positions you can see his face in. It’s hard to resist because he’s got such a pretty face, especially when it’s wet with tears and his ginger hair is stuck to his forehead. He’s so gorgeous it’s unfair really, especially since he was so insufferable outside the bedroom. It’s always the hot ones…

— Laps up any praise you offer, even if it’s backhanded or mixed with insults. All attention is good attention to him, and that’s all he cares about.

— He loves to be degraded but if you were to go soft on him all of a sudden you’d actually kill him. Overwhelm him with praise, tell him what a good boy he’s being for you, how beautiful he looks when he’s being obedient, tell him he’s your favorite hole to use and he’ll break into a million pieces. Starts to ugly cry, clinging on for dear life as he begins chanting “I love you I love you I love you–” the whole nine yards.

— Don’t even imply you’re fucking other people as a joke, he’s intensely possessive. What, was he not good enough for you? Not reverent enough? Couldn’t you see he’s all you’ll ever need?? >:( Say you’re sorry n fuck his brains out to make up for it.

“Relax, I was just kidding. You’re enough of a handful all on your own, baby. Why would I want anyone else when you take my cock so well?” You reassure, delighted by the way his golden brown eyes roll back at the praise.

He still looks bothered, so you sigh and slow your hips, the action drawing his gaze back to yours. He gasps and clenches around the toy when your lips meet his — a rare treat you don’t often allow. He moans shamelessly into the kiss, sweat-slicked fingers burying themselves in your hair to keep you anchored there. His lips are starved against yours, lips parted in invitation. You suck on his tongue, holding his mouth open with your fingers so you can spit into it — which is almost enough to make him cum.

“You’re the only one I want, Floch,” you murmur affectionately, admiring the way he swallows your spit so greedily.

He actually does cum after you say that, rather violently too — squirming and jerking like a man possessed.

“Please say it again.” he pleads.

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍

— It’ll take some convincing before Jean agrees to let you peg him. He kind of thinks you’re joking the first time you bring it up and laughs it off, but when he realizes you’re serious he’s like “Oh fuck you actually…?”

— Jean insists that if he’s gonna be taking it up the ass, he wants to be in control of the situation, so you agree to have him ride you so he can control the pace. And by god, the way his face contorts from discomfort to pleasure is so beautiful. His mouth just falls open and his brows knit together cutely. He takes you well, clasping his over yours on top of his hips as he bounces — until quite adorably the pleasure starts to overwhelm him and he just can’t bounce anymore.

— Jeanbo gets so frustrated cus it feels so good but his legs have been turned to gelatin, none of his body parts are obeying and he needs it so badly. That’s when the pathetic whining starts.

“Aww, what’s wrong, baby? Are your legs tired? Need me to take over?”

“Mommy please… need help. C’mon.” He whines, the humiliation burning hotly in his cheeks, the angry red blush spreading even to his neck.

He grinds in your lap weakly, trying in vain to pick himself back up as his legs continue to fail him. You feel your heart snap in two at the shiny tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, you sit up, trailing comforting kisses across his jaw before you maneuver him onto his back. He falls back with a huff, long limbs sprawled out before he starts grabbing at you.

His impossibly long legs wrap around your hips loosely, so as not to restrict your freedom of movement. And when your hips snap against his with enough force to push him up the sheets a few inches, a girlish moan is forced out of him. It’s so uncharacteristic and depraved that you can’t help but do it again, prying his hand from his mouth as he slaps it over his lips to silence himself. And when you find that spot he’s in disbelief at the feeling, legs locking around your hips to keep you in place as he paints his hand and chest with his cum. He’s quiet through his whole orgasm, mouth wide open in a silent scream as the intensity of it robs him of his voice.

You grin your hips lazily against his through his high, purring sweet praises, stroking his hair as he pants into your neck.

“How was that?”

“I… you were right, it felt… really good.”

— Jean prefers missionary, though he tends to hold you against his body so tight you can hardly thrust into him.

— His mommy kink absolutely comes out when you’re fucking his brains out, suckles on your tits and wants you to call him your baby. But don’t mention it outside the bedroom, he not only will deny it but will revoke pegging privileges 😔

— Can’t help but pump his pretty cock while you fuck him, has a hard time getting off without giving it attention so you usually let him. He likes it best when you slap his hands away and wrap your fingers around him instead. An arm is thrown over his eyes as he bucks into the tight tunnel of your fist in tandem with your thrusts, mesmerized by the way your breasts bounce while you’re fucking into him.

𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐎 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐃

— Porco will need convincing. It’s embarassing enough that he willingly submits to you, something he undoubtedly enjoys but still gets into his feelings about sometimes. You’ve fingered him before sure, and he likes that, it’s just… the prospect of you fucking him is something else entirely. It puts him in such a vulnerable position, and Porco’s a bit spooked you won’t think he’s still your big strong man after. Internalized insecurity about his masculinity.

— Reassure him that getting fucked in the ass doesn’t make him any less of a man to you. As silly as that sounds, it will put at least some of his fears to rest.

— He’s so whiny about it, moans and groans about how you’ll have to do all the work and how he wasn’t gonna like it. Spoiler alert: he does like it very much. He’s a bitchy little pillow princess about the whole thing until you find his prostate and it’s like those anxieties melt away in an instant.

“Oh fuck!” Porco practically mewls, an octave higher that makes your insides clench around nothing. “There baby, right there-“

“Where?” You coo, a knowing smirk pulling at your lips when you realize you’ve found his prostate. Is that really all it took to break him down? You angle your hips and thrust again, aiming for the same spot, knowing you’ve hit your mark when he keens again.

“Ohhh. right. there. Huh~?” You purr to him, your words punctuated by particularly harsh thrusts that make his back arch.

The action snaps your gaze back to his backside, full and jiggling with each brutal but purposeful thrust. You can help but grab a handful of it, watching as the fat of his ass spills between the gaps of your fingers. You spread him open to watch your faux cock glide effortlessly in and out of his pretty pink hole, mesmerized by the way it stretches to accommodate the girth.

You’re deliberately pounding against that button inside him with every thrust and he can’t help but cry out each time. He’s drooling a puddle into the sheets now, cheeks a bright fiery red, sweat sticking the blonde hairs to his forehead, mouth agape, eyes rolled so far back into his head you worry they might stick like that.

“Fffuck me, god fuck me, yes! What th-the fuck are you dooooing to me?” Porco babbles nonsensically.

And you know he’s close to cumming when he starts to fuck himself back onto your strap and hump his poor neglected cock against the sheets. He’s leaking all over, desperate for any sort of friction. Wrap your hand around his dick and watch his whole body tremor and squirm.

Has the loudest and longest orgasm of his life, a minute later and he’s still spurting ropes onto the sheets.

— Don’t be mean to him afterward, this is very important. Smooth your warm hands over the back of his thighs and back, and tell him what a good job he did for you, and how good he looked taking your strap. If done right he’ll melt into a blissed-out puddle beneath you. If done wrong he’ll never let you peg him again </3

— Definitely likes it rough. Dig your fingernails into the flesh of his hips til you leave bruises, bite and suck marks into his neck and shoulders until you run out of space, and pull him back by his hair so you can see the pathetic expressions he’s making. He fucking loves it. Doesn’t much like to be degraded so don’t be too mean. (at first. later on he warms up to being bullied a lil, just don’t go overboard yeah?)

— Thinks it feels the best from behind but gets so shy when you take him in missionary. Hides his face and avoids your eyes unless you lay on the sweet praise thick enough to convince him to look at you.

— After he’s grown used to taking dick somewhat regularly and is more comfortable with the whole idea, he absolutely becomes a slut for it. He was bratty before but now he’ll wrestle you onto your back and fuck himself on your strap if you “aren’t doing it good enough.” Smack his ass and he’ll just moan louder, thick cock bobbing with the forceful way he’s slamming himself up and down your fake dick. (Meow purrrrr bossy bottoms my beloved.)

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐓

— The biggest whore for pegging, I don't make the rules. He likes prostate orgasms the best and doesn’t even need you to touch his cock to cum.

— Sometimes you fuck him so incredibly stupid that he starts begging for you to breed him. Poor thing is so fucked-out that he forgets that it’s physically impossible. You haven’t the heart to tell him you can’t actually put a baby in him especially when it’s so fun to make him beg for you to fill him up. You’d do well to invest in a cum tube because he’ll go crazy the moment he feels your “cum” inside him. Expect him to beg you to “please cum inside” every time after that.

— Loves to give faux jobs! Obviously spit isn’t appropriate lube but he still likes the idea of slicking up your strap for you to fuck him, especially since he does such a good job drooling all over it for you <3 Absolutely wants you to fuck his face, he’ll moan around it and everything whilst looking up at you with those big blue eyes.

— Wants to be pegged more than you want to peg him tbh, he’s so enthusiastic every time you whip it out. Like his clothes are in mid-air and he’s assuming the position before you can even speak.

— Will wear plugs often, just so he can be ready anytime, and… they relieve his stress. I know he looks so innocent but I promise you he’s far from it, a closet pervert!! Always tryna coerce you into railing him while making you think that it was your idea, but he’s been planning to be dicked down the whole day. You pull down his pants and he’s already stretched himself out for you.

— A size king! You wouldn’t think such a small thing could take your longest n thickest straps but he’s a real champ!

— Definitely calls you mommy while you peg him, wants you to refer to yourself as mommy, call him your baby, and make him cum on “mommy’s cock.” Don’t mistake that desire for him wanting to be treated gently, because believe me he doesn’t. Pull his hair, push his face into the bed, and dig your nails into his skin til he bleeds. The masochist no one saw coming.

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sarahisslytherin · 2 months

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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁. (PART IV)

summary: you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity. contains: benedict being fucking adorable, fluff n’ angst! a/n: fourth and final part of this multi-chapter fic. PART I, PART II, PART III i've had such a blast writing this series, thank you all for your support and lovely words! now pull up the vitamin string quartet version of "love story" and enjoy!

Your heel dug into the gravel of the Bridgertons’ drive as you exited the carriage with grace. You gently raised your gown just centimeters off the ground as you walked towards the house, your mother and father following a fair distance behind you. You hadn’t stepped inside yet but your heart was already in your throat. You admired the front garden as you stepped up the marble stairs. Roses clung to the fences and wrapped themselves around the banisters decoratively. You took a deep breath. No matter what happens tonight, you told yourself, you will be alright.

The halls were lined with lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses of varying family names, old as the land itself. The sound of a string quartet wafted through the air, indiscernible over the chatter of civil conversation. You followed the dulcet tones, seamlessly weaving your way through the home you had come to know so well. You turned a corner and were met with an array of couples mid-dance, bodies moving with such effortless grace it was a pleasure to just stand by and watch from the sidelines. You surveyed the room, inspecting each man with almost analytical precision. One of them was your mystery man.

“There you are.” sighed Benedict as he appeared at your side. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You chanced a look at him, and you wished you hadn’t. He was gorgeous; his hair shone beneath the warm glow of the chandelier, his eyes shimmered like moonlight bouncing off water. Mostly it was his smile (that shy, boyish smile) that set off a chain of dominoes within you, resulting in a nervous pang in your stomach.

“Have you?” you asked, keeping your response brief so as to mask the waver in your voice.

“Indeed I have.” he smirked, but his good humor quickly faded as his face took on a more solemn look. “I wish to apologize for the things I said when I saw you last. I was a fool, I still am.”

“Ben-” you began to protest, but were quickly cut off.

“No, really!” He went on, his cheeks taking on a rosy shade. “You were right in every respect. And marriage doesn’t have to be the way I described. You know I have an inclination for hyperbole. Anyway, please don’t hate me. I couldn’t bear-”

“Benedict.” you said sternly. “You’re rambling.” You took his now trembling gloved hands in your own and met his gaze.

“I just wish you could forgive me.” he whispered for only you to hear.

“My dear Benedict.” you sighed, a sweet smile curling at the corner of your lips. “I forgave you the minute I left. I hate to admit this to you, but you should know I never have been able to stay cross with you for too long.” Now it was he who smiled, a beam so bright it alone could have lit up the ballroom.

“Well, then.” Benedict began. “There’s no use of a lovely lady coming to a ball just to stand around in corners, is there?” And with that, he gently led you onto the dance floor.

You fell into a rhythm that came surprisingly easy to you, as if you were exactly where you were meant to be. The strings filled the room with jovial, romantic music, lifting the spirits of anyone who would listen. It was impossible not to dance, not to feel as if you were floating. Your hand fit in Benedict’s like they were made for the sole purpose of intertwining. And when your eyes met, sparks flew, visible to no one but the two of you.

To anyone else, it might seem that the two of you were in love. What a silly thought. Though, you couldn’t help but feel that such an assumption might have some truth to it. You most definitely behaved in the childish, playful way lovers do. You confided in him without a shadow of a doubt. And he did always manage to send a certain prickle of excitement down your spine, not unlike the spark of an electric current. Good God!

You were in love with Benedict Bridgerton.

The song came to an end, and you curtsied before Benedict, while he bowed. You were sure he was about to request another dance but you were left wondering when Daphne tugged on your sleeve. “Where have you been?” she squealed delightedly. “Come, mingle!” You laughed, mostly from the nerves, as you shot Benedict one last glance over the shoulder before being whisked away.

You had made decent conversation and exchanged pleasantries with members of the ton for long enough. You were beginning to grow restless, your foot tapping mindlessly against the hard floor. You needed to find Benedict. You excused yourself sheepishly, but you had no time to give that any thought. You simply turned on your heel and began scouring through every room in search of Benedict.

You checked the parlor, the staircase, even the room where Benedict could usually be found painting or writing. He was nowhere to be found. Just when you were on the verge of abandoning hope, you thought to look in one last place.

The intoxicating scent of roses and lilacs overcame your senses as you stepped out into the garden. The lights from within the house bled out onto the patio, casting everything and everyone in it in a golden hue. There he stood, hands clasping each other tightly behind his back, standing straight as a pencil. He seemed to be deep in thought, since he was startled at your timid call. “Benedict?” He turned, his brows furrowed. “Tell me, dear.”

“I need to tell you something.” you began. “I have a bit of confession to-

“So do I.” he said, his eyes lowering to the neatly kept grass. “And I think I should go first.”

“What would make you think th-”

“It’s me!” he blurted out, not able to contain himself a second longer. “It’s always been me! Those letters, your admirer. Surely you must have known, somewhere deep in your soul, that it has always been me. Never before have I felt this way for anyone, my dear. Every moment I spend in your presence, it gives me such immense joy that I cannot help but carry it with me wherever I go. If you would have me, Lord, if you would have me- I should be the happiest man who ever lived, I swear it. I love you! Even when you are cross with me and I with you I will always love you with an unrelenting passion. Even if you should reject me, I will never stop loving you, for I have no choice in the matter. Surely there must be worse fates and than to love one so unconditionally.”

You stood before him, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide as plates and welling with tears. You tried to speak but couldn’t. So many thoughts rushed to your mind, memories of your many years as friends, every occasion where you felt what he described. There were too many to count. So instead of speaking, you simply took a step forward, pulled him in by his tie and pressed your lips to his in a kiss so passionate you knew right then it would become the subject of many sonnets and paintings from Benedict’s part. You felt as if all the golden light which bathed the garden was now wrapped around your heart.

“I wish this moment could last forever.” you said, a joyful tear streaming down your cheek.

Benedict laughed like a shy schoolboy as he wrapped his arms around you like a man starved and pulled you impossibly close. “Well, my love.” he beamed. “Forever has just begun.”

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl @i-padfootblack-things @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @enchantedbytomandhenry @dd122004dd @marvel-r5 @marimarvelfan

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #bridgerton

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