#under a new morning sun
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under a new morning sun (6/?)
Turns out, being trapped in the Fade isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Rogue Min Hawke learned this at Adamant. Luckily for her, her lover Varric Tethras refused to believe that she was really gone.
Varric rescued Hawke from the Fade with the help of the Inquisition, but there were consequences. Spending time in the physical Fade has left them Fade-touched: Varric is now a dwarf who can dream, and Hawke has developed mage abilities. Together, they’ve returned to Kirkwall for a well-deserved rest.
Old estrangements, new powers, and ghosts from the past make for a homecoming that doesn’t exactly go as planned, even as the Inquisition’s mission marches on and Kirkwall struggles to rebuild. Hawke must find a way to master her newfound magic and strike a path forward with family, friends and Varric at her side.
Chapter 1: Rearranged | Chapter 2: Making the Rounds | Chapter 3: In the Evening Hour | Chapter 4: The Message | Chapter 5: This Is Fine
Chapter 6: Between the Lines
Dear Sparrow:
Traveling’s really not all it’s cracked up to be. Which isn’t much, if you ask this dwarf. If it’s not the less than stellar accommodations, it’s the shitty weather (dumping rain? In mid-summer? Shit, why not add on hail? …no, dammit, that wasn’t an invitation).
Not to mention, the company leaves an awful lot to be desired. It’s just me and this nag of a pony rented out from some toothless farmer. Dennet, the Inquisition’s horsemaster, is never going to let me live this down. Pony’s name is Buttercup but his disposition is more along the lines of Deathroot or Ghoul’s Beard. I’ll probably be black and blue by the time I get to Skyhold.
Hope you’re doing all right, Min. I miss you, and while I’m sure it doesn’t come as a surprise, I just wanted to say it.
Also, I love you.
Also hopefully not a surprise by now.
Send my best to Bethany and Merrill. Send my apologies to Aveline, as usual.
Until tomorrow,
Varric
-
Dear Varric,
You must have written this letter on the back of your horrible steed just outside the city walls, or else you’ve cracked near-instantaneous message-sending. Some secret of the Inquisition, perhaps? Hopefully you won’t mind my letters getting to you a bit slower. I imagine we’ll get a few in various states of mixup, though that only adds to their charm.
I’m doing well! As well as can be imagined, I expect. Now that you’re gone and I’ve got no dwarven snuggling to keep me busy with, Bethany’s taken the opportunity to work me day and night on my magical education. It’s odd, certainly, trying to pack in a decade’s worth of training into the next few months, but when haven’t I enjoyed a challenge?
Be careful, Varric. Don’t think I didn’t notice your hangdog expression as you got yourself packed up. I know you’d rather be here right now, but I’m proud of you for doing this work. I hope you’ll be back soon. But only because you make rather an excellent bed-warmer.
Joking, of course.
Love you dearly, my Varric.
Cheers,
Min
-
Dear Min,
Have I told you how much I hate sea travel? Rescue me. You’ve never seen a greener dwarf in your life.
I’d write more, but I’m busily hunting down a bucket. Ugh.
Hope your day is going better.
Love,
Varric
(Also, you might want to check the back of your wardrobe. Something to cheer you up.)
-
Dear Sparrow,
You’ve found it! You’re always joking about how comfortable and stylish my tunics are. Dwarves have always had the Orlesians beat on fashion. Figured I would leave you one with a little note, just something to remind you of while I’m away.
And if you happened to wear it with nothing else, alone in your bed, dreaming of a certain trusty dwarf pressing warm, languid kisses along your thighs… I mean, that would be perfectly fine. Let’s just say imagining your taste, your sighs, the way you squirm might get me through some long, hard nights.
Fuck. It’s going to be a damn long road to Skyhold, isn’t it?
Love you. Can’t wait to taste you, to fuck you, to hold you close again.
Yours in debauchery,
Varric
-
Dear Varric,
Well, that was a surprise. Your tunic fit me perfectly, especially once I pulled off my trousers and smallclothes. I did have to make do with only my imagination and my own hand, but rest assured, had you been here you would have seen quite the show!
Thank you for this. Wearing this is a lovely balm against long and lonely nights. Feel free to imagine me wearing it in all sorts of scenarios - on my knees with my mouth around you, spread beneath you in my bed, bent over on the floor of our tent in the Approach - why, the possibilities are endless!
Do hurry up and come back when you can. I miss you, you know -- all of you, if you catch my meaning.
Love,
Your now very frustrated and dreadfully horny Hawke
-
Sparrow,
Hope Kirkwall is treating you better than whatever random-ass town I’m in now. This inn makes the Hanged Man look like the Winter Palace. The smell alone -- Phew. Not only that, but the whole place is so flammable they don’t even have hearths in the rooms. I’m writing this by moonlight, for crap’s sake.
Are you sleeping all right? Dreams or not, I hope you’re getting some well-deserved rest. I’m working on that part myself.
I always forget just how far away Skyhold is from everything decent and warm. Buttercup and I are getting closer, but there’s still a ways to go. He’s bitten me about three or four times, but he’s only crapped on my bedroll the once. I think he’s getting fond of me.
Found a demon outside this crummy little town, harassing some villagers. A nasty one. Despair. Bianca and I handled it, but it was tough seeing what it had done to the people there. I’ll have to let Doodles know there’s rifts out here, too. Seems there’s nowhere Corypheus hasn’t fucked up, at least a little bit.
I’m gonna fix this, Min. Promise.
But never mind me. How’s Kirkwall life? Aside from your no doubt very dramatic pining for me, I hope you’re on an even keel, Sparrow.
I love you more than I’ve got words for, and you know that’s saying something.
Varric
-
Dear Varric,
No letters recently. I know you’re probably getting into some backwoods parts of Thedas by now. Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll get them in the end! Always do.
Kirkwall is, improbably, surviving without you. I know it’s difficult to believe, but we are managing to cope despite the lack of your charm and chest hair. It’s a dreadful burden to bear, but we’ll make do.
It is… peculiar to be back, though. Things are the same, but they aren’t. I’m sure I’ll get used to it. Merrill says it’ll take time. I hope she knows what she’s talking about.
Bethany makes me feel a bit better in that she’s adjusting, too. I don’t know if she’ll go back to the Wardens after all’s said and done. Seven years in Kirkwall and they never seriously came for Anders… perhaps Bethany’ll be able to make an escape herself. The false Calling’s gotten quieter, she says, after everything that happened at Adamant. But there are times she goes quiet in the middle of a conversation, and I don’t know how to ask if she’s all right.
Magic is… well I’d rather not talk about that. It’ll be fine, eventually. I’m not really sure I’m getting the hang of it, but I think I’m going to talk to Bethany about trying something different. I’ve been mulling it over for a few days. I need… more.
Love you, dear Varric. Do be careful.
Love,
Your Sparrow
-
Varric,
Wish you were here. Wish the old me was here, too. I’m rattled. I keep pretending that I’m not, that everything can just be laughed off with a joke or a quip, and I’m so tired of it.
I used to know how to do that.
But that was before the Fade and its awful green light and everything so empty and cold and false, and what if I’ve come back wrong, Varric, what if it isn’t just recovering but instead it’s possession?
I’d know, right?
Right?
Argh. I probably shouldn’t send this. This one might be better stuffed inside of one of Molossus’ chew toys. IGNORE THIS if I accidentally send it along. It’s very late, and I’ve had a lot of wine.
Hawke
-
Dear Min,
Buttercup and I should be reaching Skyhold late tomorrow. Maybe some of your letters will beat me there. Assuming you’re writing me, of course, and haven’t run off with a distant and hairier-chested cousin of mine. Though if you do, I understand. Cousin Torgold has a pelt that could put a druffalo to shame.
Up here in the mountains, shit’s awfully quiet, unless you count the winds stirring in the rocky valleys, or the wolves howling far in the distance. The stars are closer here, and the scar from the Breach, too. It’s almost pretty when you really look at it, greens and blues shifting, dancing, overhead.
I wish some things had been different, Sparrow.
I should have learned my lesson back in Kirkwall. Remember that spell of Marethari’s? I should have realized that me and you and the Fade don’t make for anything but badness. I could have kept hiding you. Even the Inquisition’s spymaster hadn’t found you until I lifted my pen and spilled ink to paper.
… but I’m a selfish dwarf.
I don’t know if I would’ve had the guts to finally tell you the truth if it wasn’t for that night in Crestwood. That’s something I’ll never regret. Never.
I love you, Min.
No matter what.
Love,
Your Varric.
-
Buttercup’s hooves clomped over the threshold of Skyhold’s gates, just as slow and steady as they had been the rest of the journey. Varric sighed, leading the old nag to the stables. He ought to make sure the pony was all right. He dismounted once they reached their destination, groaning and rubbing his aching back.
One of the Inquisition stable lasses yawned, greeting him. “Serah Tethras! You’re back. It’s good to see you. Though this is a sorry beast if ever there was one.”
“Buttercup’s not so bad,” said Varric begrudgingly, patting his jacket pockets. He came up with a few wrinkled mint sprigs and a piece of a sugar cube, which he offered to the pony. Buttercup’s whiskers tickled his gloved hand as he took the proffered treat. “He got the job done.”
“We’ll sort him out, don’t you worry.” She patted Buttercup on the neck, and the pony snorted, flicking his ears back. “The Inquisitor returned a few days ago,” said the lass, stepping away from him for a moment. “I imagine she’ll be glad to see you back! Especially after all the trouble in the Approach.”
“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Varric sighed. He handed the girl a few silvers. “Thanks for looking out for him. Careful, though. He does bite.”
He made his way up to the great hall, dread growing with every step. He regretted not stopping at the Herald’s Rest first — maybe some of Bull’s awful qunari liquor might have been a good idea, or hiding out in the attic with Cole — but he’d delayed this long enough.
The hall had begun to clear out, this late at night. At first Varric was gratified to see that his spot by the fire seemed safe. Clear. But a small silhouette at the other end of the hall, studying the golden plates they’d found out on the Inquisitor’s journeys, looked far too familiar.
He sighed, rubbing his forehead. His head kept hurting, but then, clenching his jaw would do that. “Here goes nothing,” he muttered.
He settled his things down by the fire, sat in his least favorite chair, and waited for Bianca to find him.
#hawke x varric#dragon age#dragon age: inquisition#varric x hawke#min hawke#varric tethras#under a new morning sun
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um mayhaps i am capable of great kindness as well as great cruelty moreso than i had ever thought but its also true that this world is capable of more beauty and much much more cruelty than ever could i have known when i was born into it
#daphnes talking again#literally the rain is falling as the morning sun shines in my window the sun is showering me with love and the birds tweet and still#i am hurting#i was born into this world where everything can be taken away without warning or cause or reason#i think that is unjust. it isnt fair that all which i love could be taken from me. i dont like that.#i thought naively that death would evade me as long as i roamed. i had only heard of it. i had never even seen the tail of its shadow.#i had never caught a glimpse. never. it was a folk tale to me. it was a story my mother told me to put me to bed. it was play pretend.#but things have changed#it has overshadowed me. i woke up one morning and the news hung over me casting its long long shadow#under it i couldnt even cry.#i couldnt. even. cry. it had shocked me. it had shocked me to my core.#death was not real. it could not be here. and yet it was. it had not come for me but it would. it would come for me.#it would come for my father. it would come for my brother. my siblings. it would come for my mother.#it would come for my friends. it would come for them. i couldnt stop it.#death meant forever. it meant no more. it was not pretend. not anymore.#if i could make a world death would come for no one. nothing would die. no one would hurt.#if i could make a world nothing would hurt.
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Brutal Ghost, a man built for battle.
Cold, detached, unemotional Ghost, scaring every new recruit off with a single glare.
Moody, brooding Ghost who doesn’t entertain small talk that doesn’t interest him. A sergeant adopted a puppy? Uninteresting. Someone is going for tea with their grandmother? Don’t care.
Ghost who Price silently worries about, all the time.
But,
Simon Riley who crashes into bed with you, his large, cold hands coming under your shirt to steal your warmth away. His chest vibrating with a chuckle as you gasp, failing to squirm away from his cold touch before he pulls you closer to him.
Simon Riley who wakes up before you, his feet slapping against the pavement in the light morning sun, running just a little faster than during his mandated drills, to get home to you just a little quicker.
Simon Riley who wakes you up with a steaming cup of your morning brew, settling down by your side, his hand sweeping your hair away from your face to gaze at you. Kisses peppered all over your face, a soft smile growing as he watches your nose scrunch up from the interruption of sleep.
Simon Riley who puts your favourite mugs on the highest shelf, the one you can’t reach, just so you can ask for his help. “There ya’ go shorty,” a wry smile on his face as you grumble at his quip.
Simon Riley who just HAS to have a hand on you at all time. His digits engulfing yours when you walk around shops together. A soft hand resting on your lower back as you wash dishes. He grasps your hip, his face nesting in the crook of your neck as you both rest on the sofa after a long day of doing nothing.
Simon Riley who seldom uses your name, a grumble of, “darlin’”, or “angel”, maybe even a, “my love” bouncing off the walls of your shared space.
Simon Riley who wanders local markets in his free time, spotting something sparkly that is way too expensive, only to walk home with a small bag in his hand containing the pretty gift for his pretty girl.
Simon Riley who is convinced the dryer is eating his shirts and hoodies, only to spot you curled up on the couch engulfed by the offending ‘missing’ article.
Simon Riley who sends you pictures of fluffy little cats who saunter up to him on his morning runs, seemingly unintimidated at his gargantuan size, just to imagine the smile and giggle you let out when you see them.
Simon Riley who was made for unwavering devotion to you.
#cod#cod mw2#cod mwii#ghost cod#cod x reader#simon riley headcanons#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#ghost headcanons#ghost fanfiction#simon riley fluff#ghost fluff
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NDA | Coriolanus Snow
When you get hired as a nanny for President Snow and his wife's firstborn, you’re beyond thrilled and grateful. But quickly, the perfect facade melts, revealing the ugly truth of what actually goes on in the Snows' house.
Warnings: NON-CON, Capitol! Reader, Innocent Reader, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Power Imbalance
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
Your worried eyes track the frenzied glide of the woman’s quill over the notepad. You squint, hoping to discern some of the words she’s scrawling that way, but they are indiscernible…just like the stone-cold expression of the bespectacled woman on the other side of the desk.
She catches you trying to peek. Your heart jumps.
As her sharp green gaze zeroes in on you, you clear your throat and shift in your seat.
She puts her quill down and twines her fingers.
“So what do you think sets you apart from the other applicants?”
You chew on your lip. When you arrived to offer your candidature this morning, you naively believed you’d be early. Instead, you were forced to join the tail end of the massive waiting line stretching far outside the Snows’ estate. It didn’t hit you before that moment, how prized the position is. Each of the women and girls you saw radiated excellent breeding and impeccable manners. Many probably attended the University and could double as a tutor if the need presents itself.
This isn’t your case. Your parents left you and your brother Laertes with nothing when they suddenly passed away in a rebel bombing. You couldn’t blame them. This wasn't the plan. Who plans on dying and leaving their two children to fend for themselves?
Still, you now have a list of bills the length of your arm coupled with a massive mortgage to pay every month. And as Laertes’ sole caretaker, you must ensure you can afford to send him to University once he completes his education in the Academy.
Circumstances denied you that chance. Despite being of university’s age, you couldn’t afford the cost of tuition and had to drop out as soon as you got accepted. You want better for your little brother.
So as soon as you heard the news that President Snow and First Lady Livia Cardew were in search of a nanny for their son Martius, you jumped on the opportunity to apply. You rose before the sun, rummaged through your mother’s closet to find her best dress, and hailed a car to come here.
It’s a long shot, of course. You’re not as polished and impressive as some of the other women. You’re also noticeably younger. But the wages promised alone compelled you to take a chance despite the odds being unfavorable.
Fiddling with your hands, you meet the woman’s impassive stare head-on.
“What sets me apart?” You mull over your answer. You could paint a false, august portrait of yourself, your skills and your accomplishments. Or try to at least.
But what would be the point of pretending to be someone you’re not only to be found out later on? So you elect to tread the path of honesty.
“Nothing,” you say. “But I’m a hard worker. A very hard worker. In fact, I already have three jobs, one at a bakery, another as a clerk in an antique shop and I assist Fabricia Whatnot at her boutique sometimes.” Panic quivers inside you as the woman quickly jots something down on her notepad. You swiftly specify, “...But I’ll quit all of them if I get the position, of course.” You lick your lips as knots tie your stomach. “I can learn everything there is to learn on the spot. I love children, and…” You trail off, gaze traveling to your lap as you muse if you should reveal more. Your fists clench as you add, “I have a little brother who’s a few years older than Martius, and I’m really hoping I get this opportunity so I can give him the life he deserves.”
An unnerving quiet occupies the air. The wait is agony, your nails digging painfully into your palms. The jagged drumming of your heart bleeds inside your ears as she studies you.
Eventually, she leans back in the velvet chair, her face betraying no thought or emotion.
“You’re dismissed,” she says.
Your heart plummets to your feet. You shakily rise, dispirited as you drag your heels towards the door. You steal a glance above your shoulder. The woman’s attention has already drifted away from you as she shouts for the next applicant.
You sourly exit the office. You try to swallow your dejection as you note how many women are still waiting in line, each of them likely more qualified and experienced. It’s obvious you tanked the interview. Shoulders slumping, you take resigned steps through the elegant, palatial hallways of the Snow’s mansion. You get lost in admiring the crystal and gold chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. There isn’t an inch of the house that doesn’t scream excessive, unattainable wealth.
You take your time soaking it in. Chances are you’ll never step foot in such a place in your lifetime ever again.
Distracted, you don’t notice the person in front of you before it’s too late. You bump straight into a hard, inflexible body.
The sudden collision threatens your balance.
Fingers coil around your wrists as you stagger back, preventing your impending collapse onto the marbled floor.
As your attention drifts skywards, your jaw drops at who fills your vision.
“P-President Snow, my deepest apologies, s-sir,” you stammer, flames licking your cheeks.
As if you didn’t make yourself look dimwitted enough before, you now carelessly crashed into the leader of all of Panem. Just when you thought the day couldn’t possibly get worse.
You take him in. It truly is him. Shock fills you.
Tall and dazzling in a crisp white shirt and crimson vest that hints at his lean physique beneath the clothes, his signature blond waves slicked away from his face, he looks every bit the important figure that he is.
The flickering TV screen you own at home doesn’t do him justice.
A gentle smirk unfurls on his lips.
“It’s quite alright. I’m not made of sugar,” he jests.
“No…you’re not, your highness…majesty...I mean sir.”
Your blunder expands his smile. His cerulean gaze drags over your frame.
“Are you here for the nursemaid position?”
“I am, sir.” You unleash a deep exhale, his inquiry tossing salt on the fresh wound. The interviewer clearly wasn’t impressed by your less than stellar performance. Maybe you should have tried to mimic the way the girls with whom you attended the Academy behave more. They carry themselves with such confidence, wading through the world with the certainty of their destinies being secure, bereft of hardships unlike district dwellers.
You envy how carefree they get to be. Everyday you wake up worried you’ll come up short on a bill and you and Laertes will be forced to leave your family home. No matter how diligent you are at work, there never seems to be enough money to sustain the two of you. Even with three jobs, you’re barely eking out a decent living for you and your little brother. Many times, you’ve gone to bed hungry just so Laertes would not.
You don’t even realize tears have filled your eyes to the brim until a handkerchief is daintily pressed into your cheeks.
Flabbergasted, you blink up at President Snow.
“Thank you,” you exhale, stunned by his kind gesture.
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
You search his eyes. Genuine interest lights up his pellucid blue orbs.
Without much thought, you confess, “I just don’t think I did very well with my interview.”
As he scrutinizes you in silence, cocking his head sideways, embarrassment rushes through you.
Words anxiously leave your lips in a tremulous string.
“God, I’m so sorry, spilling my problems to you as if you’re not an extremely busy man, sir.”
He shakes his head. “It’s quite alright. And do not count yourself defeated, sweetheart.” Your pulse stutters when he bends over you to whisper, “You may have left a stronger impression than you think.”
He nudges the pocket square between your hands. It’s still damp with your tears. You gape at it in awe. President Snow’s initials are elegantly etched in the left corner of the fabric.
“Here. Keep it. Though I’d much prefer it if you didn’t cry.” He pauses, studying you. “Girls as lovely as you never should.”
His words send your heart into a frenzy. For a while, you’re too stunned to move. You then shake yourself back to reality, noticing you’re now staring at the empty space where he used to stand. He’s gone. You look ahead. He’s already miles away from you, wrapped in conversation with who seems to be an assistant of his.
Your thumbs press against the soft fabric of the pocket square. Cheeks ablaze, you hold it to your nose. It smells like roses, the same delicate scent that wafted from him a few minutes ago. Your back prickles. You pivot and are astonished to find the envious glares of some of the applicants still waiting in line zeroed in on you. Self-conscious, you rush to continue your exit, fleeing away from the hateful stares.
As the outside gates come into sight, you can’t suppress an elated smile. It’s not everyday someone meets President Snow and receives such a gift from him. Shoving the handkerchief in your pocket, you vow to place it somewhere safe and always cherish it.
When you return home, your brother’s already sitting in the living room, his tiny brows scrunched in concentration and his nose buried in his books. Your stomach sinks. Everything you did today was for him. You can’t help but feel you missed out on a huge opportunity, one that’d have changed the course of his life forever. You glance around at the apartment. The walls are crumbling. The wooden floors are creaking. The pipes in the kitchen have been leaking for weeks, a measly bucket you must empty every morning the only thing preventing a flood. And at night, the pitter-patter of rodents’ paws resonates from the ceiling.
Every inch of your family home is in dire need of repairs.
Unfortunately, every penny you earn goes into rent and food, meaning the house falls apart a bit more everyday. Perhaps one day, you and Laertes will awake beneath the rubble of what’s left of your childhood home. Nightmares of that sometimes keep you up at night.
“How was the Academy today?” you chime, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. Worry twists your chest. There isn’t much left. You’ll need to make do with cabbage and whatever other veggies are left. Perhaps you could toss in some leftover dried meat and make a stew.
“My teacher signed me up for advanced trigonometry,” your brother announces.
You close the cabinet and beam at him.
“Oh, that sounds hard. I’m proud of you.” It doesn’t exactly surprise you. Laertes’ always been exceptionally smart. Even his teachers noticed how gifted he is from an early age. Unlike you, he breezed through middle school and now the Academy.
It’s why it’s crucial you make sure he can go to the University. A mind like his shouldn’t be wasted.
You brother shrugs, exuding nonchalance.
“It’s fine.”
You rush to him. You wrap your arm around him playfully and hug him in his chair, pulling his cheek like when he was little. You know he hates when you do that but you can’t help teasing him a bit. It’s your duty as a big sister after all.
“Don’t downplay it. My little brother’s a genius.”
He wriggles his way out of the hug, rolling his eyes.
“Stop it.”
You head back to the kitchen and fire the stove.
“I’ll make you something,” you say, smiling at your brother.
His brows knit. “Make something for yourself first.”
You nibble your bottom lip. You truly hoped he wouldn’t notice, how much smaller than his your portions are. But he’s growing; he needs it. Much more than you. Besides, how can he focus at the Academy and be the brilliant boy he is supposed to be with a growling stomach? You won’t allow it.
“Laertes…”
He shakes his head, his expression firm.
“No. You always do this. This time, we split whatever is left.”
Heaving out a resigned exhale, you nod. You whirl to resume preparing dinner.
You gather a boiling pot from the overhead cabinet and place it on the stove. With the ease of practice, you begin chopping vegetables and tossing them into the pot. You add spices and water. The mouthwatering aroma quickly fills the kitchen. Pride swells in your chest. Your cooking skills have improved so much in the last year since your parents passed. You now manage to bring flavor to the blandest of meals.
Once the stew’s ready, you pour a portion in each bowl, putting just a little more in your brother’s and praying he will not notice.
You place the steaming bowls on the table and take a seat opposite him.
“No books at the dining table,” you admonish, mimicking the exact tone your mother used with your brother. Admitting defeat, Laertes sighs and sets his homework aside. The tiny victory tugs your lips skyward.
He tells you about his day at the Academy while the two of you eat. You’re delighted to hear he’s making a lot of friends and he’s at the top of his class for most science subjects. He’s struggling a bit more with his poetry and ethics classes, but you encourage him by reminding him he can just ask the teacher for extra assignments to keep his grade up.
“I interviewed for a new job today,” you reveal, stirring the spoon in your bowl while waiting for your brother to eat more of his food.
“How did it go?”
“Well, it pays really well so I’m hopeful.”
The hope dancing in his eyes makes your chest ache. You don’t have the heart to tell him you made a fool of yourself today. You may not be gifted like your brother, but you want him to know he can rely on you at least.
Pursing his mouth, he looks down at his stew.
“That’s great. It’d be good if you didn’t have to work as much.”
Your smile falters. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”
“Okay.”
His dour tone stirs your concern. You wish you were better at hiding things from him, making his childhood as normal as possible. But your brother’s twelve now, and that’s old enough to sense when things are wrong.
He rises from his seat. You frown as you note there’s still food left in his bowl.
“Finish your plate before going to your room.”
Annoyance pinches his features but he still picks up his bowl and hastily guzzles down the remainder of his stew.
“Happy now?” he says, wiping his mouth.
“Yes. Very,” you cheerfully respond.
He gathers his books and strides towards his room.
Your voice rises.
“Don’t stay up too late to study, okay? I love you.”
“I…love you too,” he mumbles.
You bask in the moment as you clean the table. Thankfully Laertes is still at an age where he says it back. One day he might not. So you must cherish every instant. Every conversation, every hug, every ‘I love you’. Because it could all vanish in a second. You learned that the hard way a year ago.
The day of the interview recedes to the back of your mind as you keep living your life. Work is harrowing, as usual, but you tend to your tasks as best as you can. Your arms ache as you knead the dough in the back of the bakery. You give yourself a second to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It’s been a hectic afternoon. There’s a massive pastry order for some Capitol heiress’ birthday due tomorrow. So you’ve been racing between the front desk and the kitchen in the back. A baker called in sick today, leaving you with twice the workload.
You know it won’t take much to crash into your bed and fall asleep tonight.
To make matters worse, the day hits its nadir when you get your pay that day. You peer inside the envelope for the umpteenth time. An anxious chuckle peals out of your lips.
“I’m sorry I don’t want to complain, but…this doesn’t match the hours I put in.”
The owner scratches the back of his neck, a contrite expression etched on his face.
“I’m sorry too. With the new taxes imposed by the Capitol, I had to cut your salary.”
Slack-jawed by the news, no word leaves your mouth as you stare at him. He sighs.
“If it’s a problem, we can find someone else-”
“No, no,” you interrupt, blinking in panic. “Please, I need this job.”
He acquiesces and you’re forced to thank him despite feeling cheated. You actually scaled back your hours for your other part-times since this one paid more. What a waste.
Dispirited, you return home. As you give the driver a bill for the fare, your insides wrench. Every bill counts. Perhaps you’ll need to walk back home from now on. The streets of the Capitol are notoriously dangerous but you can’t see any other way to save your dwindling wages. You already know you’ll need to request an extension for rent this month. How will you pay it, however?
You suppose you’ll have to figure it out. You always figure it out.
These are the somber thoughts swaying in your mind as you check the mailbox.
Bills. Bills. And more bills. Your already sour mood plummets even more. But a slim, silver envelope sticking out from the pile corrals your focus. Curiosity surges inside you. It looks fancy and there’s a wax seal with the Capitol’s symbol keeping it shut. You rush to open it, heart fluttering in strange anticipation.
You unfold the neatly folded letter inside. As you read the words, you gasp, dropping the letter. Still trembling from shock and excitement, you bend to pick it up.
You take a deep slow breath before reading it again.
This time, a squeal escapes from your lips.
You read it many more times to make sure your eyes aren’t just conjuring wild fantasies.
After a while, you realize they aren’t. It’s true.
Holding the letter to your chest, you toss yourself on your bed and kick your feet excitedly.
You then place your palm on your forehead. In disbelief, you beam at the ceiling.
Somehow…you’ve been hired to work for the Snows. You actually got the job.
Perhaps there is light at the end of the tunnel.
You fidget before the iron gates, smoothing absent wrinkles on your skirt. It’s one of the best outfits you could find on short notice that wasn’t moth-eaten or visibly overworn. You pray it’s enough. You let your gaze wander. The Snows’ estate truly is majestic. The lush gardens. The beautiful architecture. You feel a little small as you admire the mansion.
Remembering yourself, you pivot to the man who drove you there. You fish inside your pocket for a bill and hand it to him. He stares at you blankly from the driver’s seat.
A weary sigh ripples behind you.
You turn, your eyes widening. It’s the woman who interviewed you that day. She wears the same stern expression.
“You don’t need to pay him,” she explains, dismissing the man with her hand. He nods and drives away. “He’s your assigned driver. He’ll pick you up each day and take you back home.”
“Oh.” You offer your hand. “Nice to meet you…again.”
She gives you a lengthy onceover, completely ignoring your gesture. Then she motions at you to follow her. You let your hand fall to your side. Heat blooms in your cheeks. Perhaps, you were too enthusiastic just then. Straightening your spine, you try your best to keep pace with her quick strides.
“I’m Pandora. I supervise most housekeeping duties for the president. I’ll show you around the estate. Then you’ll meet the young Master.”
She gives you a tour of the mansion. You’re even more amazed than last time though you try to suppress your awe and not stare excessively. She shows you the garden as well. The sea of snow-white roses makes your head spin. She specifies that the only part of the house that is off-limits is the west wing of the mansion, as these are the First Lady’s apartments and she must have rest and quiet.
She ends the visit by taking you to the nursery. A smile spontaneously finds its way onto your lips. A toddler plays with his toy train on the floor. With his blonde curls and bright blue eyes, he bears a striking resemblance to his father.
“That’s him? He’s so cute,” you whisper. Even the stern woman’s expression thaws a little as she looks at the child, softening ever-so-slightly. You send her a questioning glance. She gives you a nod of approval.
You approach the boy and crouch in front of him.
“Hi. You’re Martius, right?”
He lifts his head and beams at you. You’re immediately endeared. Again, his smile reminds you of President Snow. You suppose one could probably take over the world with a smile like that.
You turn to Pandora.
“Is his mother around? I should probably introduce myself.”
Her face pinches. “Mistress Livia has been unwell as of late. She is not to be disturbed today as she is quite tired.”
“Of course.” Your lips squeeze shut for a few seconds but curiosity gets the better of you. A question burns on your lips, one that nagged you ever since you got the job. It slips out before you can think it through. “Is this…Is this why the president and his wife require a nanny? The First Lady is sick?”
Pandora glowers at you. You flinch as she steps further inside the room, her searing tone like a whip.
“You are here to do your job, and nothing else. Mistress Livia’s health is no concern of yours. Do you hear me?”
You rise on shaky feet. You forgot yourself.
“I-I understand. I’m sorry I asked.”
“This reminds me. You have to sign this,” she says, handing you a pen and clipboard. A thin stack of papers are attached to the clipboard. The front page spells ‘Non-Disclosure Agreement’ in bold letters at the very top. You scowl as you flip through the pages.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a contract, one signed by every one of the President’s employees.”
“I don’t understand most of what’s written here…”
A frustrated exhale peals from her lips.
“I’ll make it simple for you then. For the duration of your employment here, nothing you see or hear must ever leave this house. You are here to care for the young master, that is all. Nothing else should concern you. Is that clear enough?”
You swallow thickly. It doesn’t sound hard at all. Discretion is essential in every job, isn’t it? But the way Pandora makes it sound, you’d assume there are bodies buried beneath the Snows’ estate. You’d laugh if her death stare weren’t so disquieting.
You peruse the contract, perplexed by most of the legal mumbo jumbo filling the pages. None of it rings any bell. You understand the gist of it however. You must preserve the president and his wife’s privacy. While you don’t know the specifics of the first lady’s condition, her public appearances have been few and far between in the last few years.
She used to be the envy of every woman in the Capitol. Beautiful, young and married to the dashing President Snow.
She was a fairytale princess come to life.
Then their son Martius was born. And when they held him up from the balcony of their mansion for all of Panem to gaze upon, they truly seemed like the perfect family.
Until one day, Livia Cardew simply…vanished.
She was noticeably absent from all the events of the season, some she even hosted herself. Tongues wagged of course, rumors and wild theories spreading like wildfire.
But no one knew the truth of what had happened to her.
The matter seems delicate. You promise yourself not to bring it up again.
You click the pen and scribble your name at the bottom of the very last page.
“I’ve…never signed a contract like that before starting a job.”
Pandora lets out a wry chuckle.
“Well, you’ve never worked for President Snow.”
As promised, you quit your two other jobs to focus solely on Martius. You’re hesitant at first. Your departed parents taught you never to put all your eggs in one basket. And it’s exactly what you’d be doing by trusting the Snows. But when you receive your first paycheck, long before the end of the week, every qualm you had fades. It’s more money than you’ve ever had, more money than you expected. Rent isn’t an issue anymore. Neither is food.
Besides, gifts keep coming from the estate. Clothes mostly, for both you and Laertes, but also jewelry, perfume and other fancy things you don’t need. Overwhelmed by President Snow’s generosity, you try to send some of it back, but you don’t have the heart to return everything when you see your brother’s happy face when he opens his wardrobe one day.
You’ve caught the self-conscious glimpses he casts at his classmates sometimes, when not wearing the Academy uniform. Their clothes are always brand new and custom, perfectly tailored while his are stitched back together by your clumsy hands whenever they fray at the seams. You’re not a seamstress but you’ve always done your best. But you know your best doesn’t compare to the access and privilege those kids have.
Other than those blessings, your time with Martius has been a breeze. Only hazy memories of your brother as a toddler linger in your mind, but you don’t recall him ever being as sweet and calm as the little boy is.
It hardly feels like work, caring for the small child. You spend the day playing along with his games, reading stories to him and, as the day nears its end, the two of you feed the ducks in the massive pond behind the mansion. He even gives them names and gets upset when they fight with each other.
“Lily doesn’t like James anymore,” he whispers to you one day, a sullen pout scrunching his tiny features.
“And why is that?”
“I think she’s angry that he steals her food.”
You chuckle and ruffle his golden locks. The little boy always has a story for everything he sees. At all times, his world must make sense. So if he cannot find a reason to explain what fills his gaze, he’ll weave a tale that matches it. His stories are each more wild than the other and he sometimes utters words you’ve never heard a four year old use.
But you surmise it is expected from the son of the president. When he isn’t with you, the little boy is often with his private tutor. Even at his tender age, the importance of manners and eloquence is impressed upon him.
Martius tugs at your skirt when you make your way to the door. You look down. His blue eyes are pleading.
“You’re leaving again?”
You heave out a long exhale. The little boy wasn’t so clingy before but with your bond growing, he’s been expressing more sadness from watching you go at the end of every day.
You hunker down to his level.
“My little brother’s expecting me.”
His forehead puckers. “Stay…”
“I told you before, Martius. I have a brother. He’ll miss me if I’m not here.”
“Okay,” he mumbles, giving a begrudging nod. Tears already swim in his eyes though. Panic flows through you. You didn’t want to upset him. You pick him up and bounce with him in your arms to try to soothe him.
“Oh, no. Don’t cry, sweetie.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nearly squeezing you to death when he wraps his arms around your neck. His loud, tearful sobs swell in the room. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow like always, okay? So I need you to be brave for me.” His grip on you loosens as he sniffles. You put him down and the two of you pinky promise that you’ll return. Your heart twists at the sight of his tear-stained little face.
You give his hair one last affectionate pat before rushing outside. If you stay, he might throw another tantrum. No matter what, you can never get mad at Martius. He’s just a child. In the absence of his mother, he’s bound to grow attached to any woman filling a role adjacent to hers. You loathe that you’re taking those moments from the first lady. Though it pleases you to have a steady job and spend time with the sweet boy, it feels wrong that she isn’t there. She should get to see her baby grow up. She should hear his inane ramblings and eccentric stories.
As time wears on, you’re dying to meet her and tell her about Martius. Is she truly so sick that she can’t even see him for a mere few minutes? You’re itching to break the rules and visit the west wing of the mansion. Sometimes you hear blood-curdling screams and wailing coming from the dark halls but you never dared venture through them. You know that if you did, Pandora would crucify you.
Laertes’ well-being matters more than your curiosity.
Humming absently, you halt in your tracks in the middle of a hallway. Confusion has you blinking. A peculiar noise bounces faintly against the walls. Your gaze drifts sideways, where the noise seems to come from. You’re clocking out. Whatever’s going on in the house isn’t any of your business at this hour.
But what if someone needs help? What if it’s something bad? You’d feel awful if you learnt something happened the next day and you pretended to ignore it. So you gingerly approach the wall. Your fingers graze the tapestry covering it.
Your eyes widen when the wall moves, a tiny crack forming in it.
Your eyes bulge. It’s an ajar door, you realize. A secret door one wouldn’t notice if they weren’t aware it was there. Light spills from the slight opening.
Confining your breath, you bend over the crack in the wall to get a glimpse of what’s behind it.
The vision crowding your sight makes the blood in your veins freeze.
President Snow rutting into a maid with his pants down to his ankles. His usually neat blonde locks are tousled, a few damp curls kissing his forehead. His massive cock glistens with the girl’s essence, disappearing into the girl’s spread lips over and over again. Her body is bent over the railing of the bed and her maid outfit is bunched around her hips, exposing her ass, the flesh trembling with each of the president’s harsh, pointed thrust.
Each time he snaps his hips he draws a broken moan from her. One of his hands is around the back of her throat while the other’s on the small of her back. He grunts low in his throat as she clenches around him, thrusting into her even faster than before.
The obscene sound of their coupling rises, coalescing with the feral grunts spilling from the president’s mouth. In that moment, he’s not the poised gentleman you’re used to seeing, he is an animal in rut chasing his high.
A shocked exhale escapes your lips. Your hand flies to cover your mouth. President Snow’s head snaps up, his gaze landing straight on you.
Your heart slams against your ribcage.
You jump back from the door and push the secret door closed. You dart across the hallway, determined to find the exit as quickly as you can. You don’t glance back, your steps hasty and panicked.
Pandora was right. It’s best not not to hear or see anything, to become a tomb in which secrets are buried.
You can only hope he didn’t recognize you through the tiny crack in the door.
Though you’re shaken to your core, you continue your work as a nanny. You still need money. You may have set aside everything you made thus far, but it will only sustain you and your brother for a month or two. Besides, you’ve already handed in your resignation for your other jobs. The positions have likely been filled. You can’t exactly show up out of the blue and ask for your former job back.
No. So you convince yourself that it’s alright. You have a good thing going anyway. You’re making more than you hoped. The child is happy. You’re happy. All is well. Or it would be at least.
…If you could conjure the memory of President Snow railing into the maid far away from your mind.
You want to forget it, bury the moment so deep in the abyss of your thoughts, it can never be unearthed.
But it isn’t so easy. Because every time your mind wanders even a little, you see him again. Skin glistening with sweat and blue eyes alight with lust. The image is tattooed into your brain.
You wonder if the first lady knows. Perhaps it’s why she’s hiding away. The weight of her husband’s indiscretions may have grown too heavy to carry. It sours your heart. President Snow seemed so kind, good and noble. He was nice to you. You still have the breast pocket he gave you tucked away in a drawer. You loathe to think he’d do that to his wife. No woman deserves this.
You lift your head when your name is uttered. You get to your feet. Adrift in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Pandora was in the nursery.
“Yes?”
“The president wants to see you in his office.”
Dread wrenches your gut. It’s exactly what you feared. Does he know? Did he see you? Your pulse picks up. What other reason would there be? He never summoned you before.
“Really, why?”
“He didn’t say, but I’m assuming it’s to congratulate you.”
Befuddlement wrinkles your forehead. “Congratulate me?”
Pandora heaves out a weary sigh. “Well, you’ve done much better than we thought,” she begrudgingly admits. “The young master smiles all the time.” She rolls her eyes. “Even if we must deal with his tantrums when you leave.”
A sliver of pride flutters through you with her admission. Pandora made her doubts about your capabilities plain and obvious from the beginning. It gladdens you that you may have changed her mind a little.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” She turns to him, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “It’s a small price to pay for his happiness.”
Your smile vanishes as she adds, “Now let me escort you to the president’s office. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you trail behind her. The entire trek to the president’s office, your stomach’s in knots. You keep wondering if it’s the day you’ll lose your job for being too nosy. You should have walked past the noise. You shouldn’t have peeked.
You inhale a lungful of nerve as Pandora opens the door to his office and frees room for you to enter. Your clammy hands wrench in your lap. He’s sitting behind his desk. You stagger further inside the room as he motions for you to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. He looks the same as the first time you stumbled into him, disarmingly handsome in an impeccable shirt and pants that flatter his long legs.
A sharp contrast to the version of him that has plagued your thoughts lately.
His sky gaze follows you as you take a trembling seat.
“Are you settling in well?” he asks.
“Hm, yes,” you stammer, anxiously twining your fingers. “It’s pretty much the perfect job. I get to be around a cute child all day.”
“I hear my son is very fond of you.”
You bashfully dip your head. “He’s very easy to like. He’s such a good boy, sweet, kind, and curious. You and your wife are raising him well, sir.”
He hums in thought. “I can’t take much credit for that. I’ve tried my best to carve out time for Martius…but work’s kept me busy. As for Livia...” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Well she isn’t quite herself these days.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He places one hand under his chin, scrutinizing you. You try not to twitch beneath his stare, your insides tight with dread.
“Hm, it’s strange,” he states after a minute that goes by like an eternity.
Your head rises. “What’s strange?”
“A girl like you.” His lips drag upward. “Sweet, nurturing, beautiful. Shouldn’t you be married already?”
Your lips part in astonishment. This isn’t the line of questioning you expected. “I-I’m not.”
“No fiancé?”
“No, sir.”
“A lover then?”
Warmth rushes to your face.
“No…”
He laughs, mirth dancing in his cobalt orbs.
“You must pardon me for being so forward but I simply find it astonishing. No suitors? It’s hard to believe since you’re so lovely, sweetheart.” He tilts his head. You shift in discomfort, his attention making you feel see-through. “I mean, a husband would have made your life easier than it’s been thus far, wouldn’t he, dove?”
A long exhale flows from your lips. “I’ve had offers, after I graduated from the Academy. There was even this boy, he was so kind to me.” The memory draws a small smile from you. “He proposed. I’m sure he’d make a great husband, but…”
“But…”
Your mouth dries.
“I know it’s probably naive and unrealistic but I want to marry for love, that great, life-changing love, like in those romance novels my mom used to love, not money or status.”
His eyes twinkle. “Or financial stability?”
Shame gathers in your chest. You know it sounds silly when uttered aloud.
“I know, I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re not. It’s sweet that you still believe in love.” He appears lost in a faraway memory, his gaze hazing over with remembrance. “I used to believe in it too. I used to think, ‘Who needs wealth and success and power when love conquers all?’”
He chuckles but it’s bereft of amusement.
“Really? What happened then?”
His gaze locks with yours.
“I grew up.”
Confused, you frown.
“But aren’t you and the first lady in love?”
Another laugh bursts from his chest.
“God, you’re sweet.” His tone lowers to a dulcet whisper. “It’s like none of the world’s ugliness has gotten to you yet.” He reveals matter-of-factly, “My wife and I hate each other.” His smile widens at your flabbergasted expression. “Always did. It’s best that way, more…efficient. Of course, there was a time, when we had…passion.” He licks his lips, something you can’t pinpoint flickering in his gaze. “But not anymore. She’s far too gone for that.”
He rises from his chair. You stiffen as he circles the desk, making slow steps towards you.
“Which is why I must…satiate my needs wherever I can,” he mumbles, fingers lurking under your chin, forcing your eyes to fall upon him. “Do you understand my meaning, dove?”
“I…yes.”
Discomfort flares within you. Tension hangs in the air, so heavy it clogs your airways.
He cocks his head, lips slanting crookedly.
“Do you really? With that innocent look in your eyes, it’s hard to tell.” His thumb sweeps over your shuddering bottom lip. “Men have needs. And am I not a man, sweetheart?”
“Y-Yes you are, sir.”
He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “You saw everything that day, didn’t you?” Your heart stops.
Flames lick your face as you bow your head. “I-I didn’t see anything.”
His warm breath ghosts over your earshell.
“Liar,” he mumbles.
Your pulse quickens.
He leans back and nudges your chin upward.
“Since my wife fell sick, I’ve been very lonely. And sometimes…” He looms over you, crowding your space as you peer up at him, fingers squeezing the arms of the chair. “I need something soft and warm to forget that feeling.”
President Snow slowly falls to his knees in front of you. His fingers find your thigh, starting to creep under your skirt. A devilish glint sparkles in his cobalt gaze. He finds your center, pressing the sheer fabric into your folds. You gasp. He chuckles at your reaction. He starts teasing you through your panties, tracing your slit and dragging over your tender bud. Your breath hitches as the air around you grows hotter. You grow slick beneath his finger, your thighs shaking as tingles bloom on your flesh.
“Sir…” you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes.
He pushes further inside you, adding another finger, and you unleash an audible breath. You try to close your thighs. He places his other hand on your knee to keep you open for him.
The air in your lungs grows thinner as he rubs your core through your soaked panties. The friction is a delicious torture. Pleasure pools in your belly causing your face to burn with shame. You’re getting embarrassingly wet with President Snow’s attention.
“I just want a little taste,” he murmurs, his deep timbre bleeding lust. “Just one time and it’ll never happen again,” he promises fervently as his lips graze your ankle. You find some relief when his fingers disappear from your drenched center. But your respite is ephemeral. He slips his hands under your ass and tugs at your panties.
Panic widens your eyes. Cheeks ablaze, you pull at the material between your legs with both hands. But he’s stronger than you and effortlessly drags the fabric along your legs. A wicked smile plays on his lips as tears glisten in your eyes. It’s soon down to your ankles. You squeal when the president yanks the panties off your foot, tossing them aside. Cool air sneaks beneath your skirt, swirling over your bare folds.
Hands over your knees to keep you spread, his wolfish gaze sweeps over your glossy folds.
Your skin heats, embarrassment gathering in your chest. You’ve never been this vulnerable and exposed in front of anybody before.
“Please, President Snow, s-stop…”
“But you’re dripping, sweetheart,” he states smugly, sinking a finger inside your weeping core, as if to make a point. Your breath hitches. He takes his finger out sluggishly. You clench when he grazes one of your sensitive spots. “Just as sweet as I expected,” he hums, obscenely licking your essence off his long digit.
Without a warning, he buries his head between your thighs. A sharp exhale leaps from your mouth. His cool tongue traces a wet trail over your folds. President Snow traces maddening patterns over your swollen bud causing your eyes to roll back.
You card your fingers through his silken platinum locks, hoping to push his head away. But the delightful sensations grow too overwhelming. You unravel beneath his sinful ministrations, your limbs twitching as the thread of your thoughts comes loose.
Your grip on his hair weakens. Your belly tightens, your chest rising and falling rapidly.
You jolt as his tongue flickers over your tender heap of nerves.
“P-President…”
He purrs against your folds and the vibrations rock through your core. You squirm in the chair. Your thighs quake. Your vision dims, your mind blank as waves of pleasure swaddle you in their tide. Protests scatter on your tongue, replaced by wanton whimpers and moans.
Electricity ripples through your spine as you cry out.
Bliss engulfs you and your legs turn liquid. Shame swirls in your gut as your juices coat his tongue. He drinks your nectar, elation rumbling in his chest.
When he lifts his head, you hardly recognize him. The feral glow in his gaze chills your blood.
There is no time to collect yourself, realize what just occurred, as the blonde gathers your limp frame from the chair and places you on his desk. Documents and papers are flung to the ground as he grabs your thighs and presses his throbbing hard-on against your cunt.
He hastily unbuttons his pants, freeing his hard length. He fists his cock and guides it through your wet entrance. Your back arches, the sudden intrusion robbing you of air. He reaches the hilt of you in a few seconds, giving you no time to accommodate his thick girth. You collapse over the desk, weak whimpers leaving you as your walls are stretched to their limit. He drags out of you, his pupils flaring as they trace the motion of his length in and out of you. Coriolanus leans over you. He snaps his pelvis into your hips, each of his thrusts tearing tearful moans from your throat.
When you turn your head, hot tears flowing down your cheeks, he grabs your chin so you’re forced to meet his lustful stare. Bracing himself on the desk, he reaches between your bodies to pinch your swollen clit. He plucks at your soft bud until you shatter around him with a sob. His throat bobs, a look of sheer bliss flitting across his face when you clench around him.
“I’ve been dying to fuck you the minute I saw you,” he confesses, trailing soft pecks over your collarbone. A sinister chuckle peals from his lips. “The way you looked at me with those sweet, innocent eyes…it made me rock-hard.” He tilts your chin towards him, his thumb skimming over your parted lips.
Satisfaction glimmers in his eyes as they flick over your prone form.
“You should thank me. Those boys at the Academy wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you…” His cock twitches inside you. Sticky warmth spills from him, painting your walls and dripping past your hole. Drops of his seed leak onto the desk. A throaty sigh pours from President Snow’s throat as your cunt flutters around him.
His teeth nip the skin of your neck.
“...But I do.”
After what occurs in his office, you hope to avoid President Snow. Those hopes are swiftly dashed however. President Snow lied to you. It doesn’t happen once. In fact, you begin to lose count of the actual number.
Every time the president finds a little spare time, he summons you.
Sometimes you end up bent over the desk in his office as he pours the frustrations of the day into your warm hole. Sometimes he prefers you sprawled on your back in one of the multitude of luxurious beds in the mansion while he devours you as if you were his very last meal. And at times, he grows even more impatient and simply shoves you against a wall before ravaging you.
More than once, a maid or footman has walked in on the two of you, and you’ve had to swallow your shame and embarrassment.
As you’ve come to learn, the entire staff is aware of Coriolanus Snow’s insatiable appetite and none of them seems to care.
You feel sick, desperate, trapped in something twisted and awful you never signed up for.
But how does one say no to President Coriolanus Snow? The entire Capitol yields to his every whim. And you are the same. Here to bow and smile and lie back whenever he demands it.
You long to focus on your job, to care for Martius and nothing else. Whenever the boy looks up at you with those innocent blue eyes, eerily similar to his father’s, your stomach wrenches. You pray he never comes to learn what kind of man his father is. You wish he’d stay just as kind and sweet as he is now.
Those are the thoughts drifting through your mind as you watch Martius play with his toy trains. Your eyes wander towards the window. Outside, orange and purple hues are bleeding into the sky, the afternoon nearing its end. Your stomach coils. It’s during times like these that President Snow often seeks you out. You’ve tried to run away from him but it’s all a game to Coriolanus, and he always delights in chasing you through the hallways.
Your brows crumple as you note that Martius has stopped playing. He drops his toy and rushes to your side. Confounded by his behavior, you’re on the cusp of asking him what’s wrong…but your gaze follows what caught his attention on the other side of the room.
You fall silent, your eyes rounding in shock.
“Martius. Come here, my love,” says the blonde woman in a white robe and nightgown, her arms wide open.
Time stands still for a few seconds. It takes you a while to realize who stands before the door. She looks so different, more ghost than woman, her glassy blue eyes hollow and sunken. But her likeness is unmistakable. Even with her graying, limp tresses and ashen complexion, you recognize Livia Cardew. The president’s wife.
You bolt to your feet. Arms still open, Livia takes slow steps towards Martius.
“I’m your mom, sweetie. Don’t you remember me?”
The little boy’s fists clutch your skirt as he hides his face against your leg.
“You’re not my mom.”
A stricken look twists Livia’s features as she shrinks. As if her own son just drove a knife through her heart. Your chest twinges. While her abrupt appearance is a shock, you can’t imagine how she must feel. You place a hand on Martius’ back and try to nudge him forward.
“Martius. It’s the First Lady, your mother. Go on, hug her,” you urge softly.
He shakes his head, tears filling his eyes as he hides behind you even more.
You’re stunned. Has it truly been that long?
“Martius-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence, Livia lunging at you, her eyes wild with fury.
“You! This is all your fault,” she hisses. She points at you and scoffs, “You’re his new whore, aren’t you?” Her mouth wobbles as she grips her head. “First you take my husband, now my son.”
Martius begins to sob. His loud cries overlap with his mother’s frantic yelling. You cover his eyes, tossing Livia an apologetic look.
“First Lady, I never meant-”
Before you can explain yourself, she grabs a nearby vase and smashes it. White roses scatter on the floor. Stomping all over the petals and broken glass, she collects one of the shards and races towards you. Terror numbs you. You freeze as Livia aims the shard at you, scarlet droplets dripping on her nightgown as she squeezes her fist around the glass.
Your eyes shut as you wait for the inevitable strike.
You shiver, waiting still.
But it doesn’t come.
“Livia, darling, that’s enough. It’s time for you to sleep and take your medicine.”
The familiar sound of Coriolanus’ voice causes your eyes to snap open.
You watch him restrain a struggling Livia. She curses at him, fighting him with all her might. It’s a painful spectacle.
“No, don’t touch me!” Other staff members rush into the room. It takes several people to hold Livia down, colorful expletives pouring from her mouth as she punches and kicks whoever comes close. “You’re killing me! You bastard! Give me my son back! Martius! Martius!”
The child trembles against your skirt, his tear-filled gaze stuck to the floor.
Eventually someone manages to stick a needle into Livia’s neck. She instantly goes limp, arm still reaching for her son in her last conscious second.
“Take her away,” Coriolanus instructs.
The first lady’s flaccid form is dragged out of the room. Still shaken by what you just witnessed, you don’t move a muscle. President Snow approaches you, worry swimming in his blue orbs.
“Are you alright, dove?” He cups your cheeks, his brows crumpling as his gaze settles on your neck. “I’ll have Doctor Gaul look at you. She has an ointment for that.” He caresses your cheeks, smiling. You gape at him. How can he smile at a time like that? “It won’t even scar. I promise.”
You graze your neck. Your fingers come away bloody. Oh. Livia nicked you with the shard but you didn’t even feel it. Perhaps adrenaline numbed you to the pain.
“Dada,” Martius chimes, lifting his chubby arms.
Coriolanus’ face warms as he picks up his son. He tosses him in the air and catches him. Martius giggles through his tears.
“My sweet boy. That was very scary, wasn’t it?” he says, balancing his son on his hip. Martius nods and wipes his nose. Coriolanus flicks his cheek, beaming at him. “Don’t worry, son. The scary lady won’t bother you anymore in a few months.”
A wave of ice blows through your veins. You wonder why the president uttered those words with such certainty. Like a promise. Or a prophecy. Almost as if he knows exactly when the grim reaper will come knock on his wife’s door.
The next day, you hand over your resignation to Pandora. Her expression is skeptical as she gauges the manila folder you give her.
“This is for the president,” you announce.
She unleashes a deep exhale. “You should reconsider, sleep on it.”
You almost laugh. Sleep on it? You can hardly find rest, the picture of a disheveled Livia Cardew crying out for her son haunting your nights. Whatever befell upon the poor woman, you wouldn’t be surprised if her husband somehow had a hand in it. It broke your heart, seeing her like that, her own son unable to recognize her. You also despise the role Coriolanus forced you to play in erasing her memory.
All of it feels wrong.
And most of all, you don’t want President Snow to use you to satisfy his lewd desires anymore. He took all your firsts, all the moments that should have been beautiful, and made them a nightmare you have to relive every time he touches you.
You respected him; you admired him. Now you can’t be in his presence without dread whispering through you. What will he make you do this time? How will he make you small and powerless again?
“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. He can hire someone else to care for him.”
Pandora purses her lips and shakes her head.
“It’s really not that simple. The president has developed…a fondness for you.”
You bristle. “I have to go back home. Laertes is expecting me.”
“You won’t like what comes next, trust me.” Her gaze narrows. “No one leaves the president.”
Ignoring the shudder elicited by her daunting words, you pivot and make a beeline towards the exit. Pandora’s voice echoes down the hallways.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Depleted, you glumly make your way to the gates. You enter the car that takes you back home everyday. Your thoughts wander as the Snow’s house grows smaller through the car window. You were thrilled when you got this job. It felt like kismet after the year you and your brother had. A rainbow after the rain. A slice of hope.
How it all went to hell so quickly. You’re still reeling from it. You’ve no idea what you’ll do next. The only thing you know for certain is that you will not step foot into the Snows’ estate ever again.
The car suddenly halts. You bump your head into the passenger’s seat. Wincing, you grip the sides of your head. As you retrieve your senses, you look around. You stopped.
You toss a questioning look at the driver.
But before he can respond, the car door opens and you’re yanked outside. Two pairs of strong arms drag you away from the car.
You take in the blue uniforms of the men. Terror pulses through your blood.
Peacekeepers.
Noting the guns at their sides, you stop trying to resist. There’s no fighting against them, ever. They are the Capitol’s fist and carry the President’s will. You don’t stand a chance. In fact, you likely never did. You slump in their grip, despair thrumming inside you.
They escort you to a black car with tinted windows. Your pulse soars. You’ve only ever seen one individual step out of this car.
The peacekeepers toss you inside and slam the door shut.
Your fearful gaze rises to him.
He casually sits in front of you, his eyes narrowed.
“You disappoint me, dove.” He lets out a weary sigh. “After everything I’ve done for you…you try to leave me. I thought you were smarter than that.”
You twine your hands, sputtering, “I-I’m not the right person for this job, sir.”
He slides his fingers under your chin, tilting it upward.
“Oh but you’re perfect. My son loves you. You’re sweet, dutiful and most importantly…” He smirks. “You are mine. Mine to hold, spoil and fuck whenever I please for however long I please.”
The prospect fills you with dread. He wants you to be his toy again, submissive, available whenever he pleases.
“Sir…”
His jaw ticks, his hold on your jaw tightening.
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your brother could attend the University, free of charge? A bright young mind such as his, I believe he deserves it.” His blue eyes twinkle. “Instead of, let’s say…end up in a District, his name chosen as a tribute in the next Hunger Games.” Your heart sinks to your feet. “That’d be awful, wouldn’t it? So cruel…” he mumbles, stroking your trembling bottom lip.
“No, please,” you beseech, tears swelling in your eyes. Your brother’s all you have left in the world. Nothing can happen to him.
Coriolanus fondles your cheek, the tender gesture a sharp contrast to the wicked words rolling off his tongue.
“It’s all up to you, then, dove. As long as you behave, I’ll give you the world. But if you act like a little brat again…” A threat lurks in his soft tone, a glint of madness swaying in his cobalt orbs. “I really don’t know what I might do.”
Chills dance over your spine.
“I promise to never do it again,” you blurt out.
He pulls out a square from his breast pocket. It’s identical to the one he used the first time.
But a lifetime seems to have passed since that moment, the world now so different from what you imagined, and the man before you…even more so.
“Good girl,” he lauds while swiping away your tears.
He shoves the pocket square back in its place. Coriolanus then beams at you as he starts unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his pants.
“Now, I’ve had a long, exhausting day. So how about you get on your knees for me and make it better with that sweet mouth of yours, dove?”
#dark!coriolanus snow#tbosas fanfiction#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow#hunger games#coriolanus snow x reader#dark!coriolanus snow x reader
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Get up, baby!
—✦ SUMMARY: The way jjk men try to wake you up despite your great desire to sleep on;
— CHARACTERS: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna, Fushiguro Megumi;
— CONTENT: sfw! fluff, lots of kisses, soft;
✧˚.𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
You sullenly hid your head in a pillow from the annoying rays of the sun that made their way through the window. Satoru, grinning, approached your sleeping face, starting to leave short kisses on your cheeks, gradually descending to your shoulders.
“Satoru, it's too early, I want to sleep.” You mumbled softly and indistinctly as he lifted you up and held you in his pleasant embrace, burying his head in your neck.
His hot breath covered your collarbones, tickling you slightly;
Every time Satoru wakes up before you, without thinking about falling asleep further – he wants to look at you every morning, finding something new for himself in you. He takes mental pictures, storing them in his head, and then he remembers you when you are not with him.
“But that's not the reason I let you go, because you're so cute when you're sleepy.” He nuzzled your forehead when you tilted your head back against his chest. “Then I'll fall asleep on you. Satoru laughed and, slowly leaning back, he gave you the opportunity to turn around and lie down again. You rested your head on his chest while he watched you, smiling.
“My beauty. I love mornings only because of you.”He whispered, stroking your head.
✧˚.𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮
His fingers carefully ran through your hair, drawing relaxing lines with smooth movements.
“Suguru?” Without opening your eyes, you sighed softly, continuing to be blissful from his touch.
“Sleepyhead, don't you think it's time to get up?”
His palm slowly moved to your back, starting to stroke you with long and sweet movements, trying to convey care and love for you in them.
Suguru finds something fascinating and noteworthy in your facial expressions: isn't it a miracle how his touch affects you?
Geto gently brushed your curls aside and lowered himself to you, imprinting kisses on your neck. “Do you like it?” The corners of his lips stretched out, hearing your soft sounds of ecstasy. “I wish I always had a morning like this.” He moved to your temple and lowered himself, lightly bit your earlobe, “Then let me continue, pretty.”
Ignoring the fallen strap of your T-shirt, he dressed your bare cool shoulders with the tenderness of his affectionate lips.
You shifted, propped yourself up on your elbows and addressed him drowsily, causing laughter in his chest “You're too good.”
✧˚.𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨
“Good morning, sweetheart.” He entered the bedroom, making sure that you were still asleep, without making any attempt to wake up. You covered your eyes with your hand from the light that was in your way, but Nanami sat down on the bed, took it and kissed it slowly.
“Another 5 minutes, honestly.” You lied, you won't have 5 minutes, and he knows it perfectly well, so he has no other option but to start groping you.
“Are you sure you have enough time?” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and mischievously gently tapped the tip of your nose, making you wince. You took his hand in yours and held it up to your face, propping it under your chin.
“Your hands are so nice, Kento.”
Nanami grinned and, approaching, kissed you on the forehead.
“How long has it been?
“You're late, darling.”
“What?!” You jumped out of bed, feeling the coolness of the room, but his hands stopped you “I was joking” He tried to keep his face serious, but looking at you, Nanami's lips turned into a small smile.
“Oh, don't joke like that!” You frowned and, not letting him pull you to him, put your head on his lap.
“You're not going anywhere now.” You wrapped your arms around him, preventing him from moving that way.
✧˚.𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚
You were waking up from a dream, feeling something strange running over your hand, and when you woke up, you just remembered which man you were in a relationship with.
“Are you awake?” Sukuna still continued to tickle your skin with his nails, knowing full well that you were no longer asleep. “Don't be silent, doll, I know.” He traced the curves of your waist with his wide palm, shaking his head and grinning at how naive you look in front of him.
“Stop playing games” He pulled you to him and pressed your back to his chest and, resting his head on his hand, began to look at you.
“Maybe that's not how I want you to treat me.” You opened one eye and looked at him: Sukuna sighed in displeasure, rolling his eyes.
“Do you want me to do this?” He kissed your neck, biting it a little “Or maybe like this?” he grabbed your hip and squeezed it tightly, which made you squirm in bed.
“No-o-o.” You turned to him, removing his hand.
“Then what do you want?!” He stood up and loomed over you, looking at you with furrowed brows and displeased curled lips. “This is definitely not how I want to wake up.”You crossed your arms and turned your head away from him.
“Crotchety girl.” You immediately turned to him, but he didn't let you answer, and lifted your head by the chin, “But you're mine.”
✧˚.𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢
In general, it's hard for both of you to get up in the morning, but Megumi has more determination than you, so he has to tear you away from sleep in every way.
He woke up to the ringing of the alarm clock and was surprised that you did not react to him in any way, continuing to sleep and hug him tightly.
“Hey, can you let me go?” But you didn't react to him in any way and settled comfortably on his arm. Fushiguro lay there for a few minutes, trying to wake you up as gently as possible.
He still managed to get out of your trap and decided to shake you slightly by the shoulders “Get up!”
“You're Sleeping Beauty...” A strange thought flashed through Megumi's mind, but... he didn't have any other options in his sleepy state yet.
He sank down closer to you and trying to touch your cheek, you suddenly turned your head to the side, which is why he briefly kissed you on the lips. Fushiguro blushed when you opened your eyes and, swallowing, spoke to you “Good morning” and you beamed with a smile, pouncing on top of him “Aw, Megumi, are you really gentle?!”
“This is my shadow side.” He propped himself up on his elbows while you put your arms around his neck, smiling imperceptibly.
#jjk x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#geto suguru x y/n#geto x y/n#geto x you#geto x reader#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x you#nanami x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#megumi x you#megumi x reader#megumi x y/n
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good morning ࿏ wm
summary: in which you decide to get what you want first thing in the morning.
words: 3.9k
warnings: top!wanda, power bottom!reader, dubcon/noncon, breeding kink, cumstrap (r receiving), somno (r giving), blowjob on cumstrap (r giving), enhanced strap, brief choking, just imagining slutting top!wanda out like this woeidbsibfwioe its the power bottom in me
this fic is for 18+ only. minors dni. read with discretion.
masterlist.
The room was cool and the bed warm by the time you woke up. Legs shifting smoothly under the crisp sheets, you could hear the faint chirp of a lone bird outside the window along with what sounded like a gentle spring morning rain shower.
Plat plat plat plat the rain softly tapped against the window and quietly onto the roof above you. It was a sleepy rain, an early morning rain whose clouds blocked the sun from glaring through your window. It made waking a little easier, a little more soft.
The other thing that made waking a peaceful experience was the warm body you were tangled up with. The soft, curled ends of light brown hair tickled your bare shoulder, and it was the first thing you saw in the dim room as you opened your eyes. Your head rose and fell slowly with Wanda’s steady breath. It was resting on her bare chest, the skin there hot against your ear. She always slept so hot.
Your legs were tangled with hers, your arm thrown across her torso. As you blinked your eyes awake, you tilted your head upwards to get an angle of her from below. The stretch of her jawbone, the mountain of her cheekbones just beyond it. Heavy eyelashes fluttered closed, deep pink lips pursed in her sleep. The crinkle between her eyebrows that was always there when she slept. She was starting to get a permanent wrinkle from it, and while she was embarrassed of it, you told her it was just the imprint of all the dreams she’d ever had right there in one wrinkle between her brows so she would never forget them. Wanda was always a deep dreamer, for better or worse.
The puffy comforter you shared rested right below her breasts, likely pushed down during her overheated sleep. Her hair was splayed over her chest, barely covering the peaks of her soft pink nipples. Her skin looked pale and soft under the dim gloomy morning light. You let your hand glide over the soft expanse of her tummy, fingers pressing into her flesh as you shift, waking up a little more. Letting out a silent yawn, you casually let your hand stroll further down beneath the blanket, being thrown off guard a little when your hand touches cool silicone between her legs.
It was Wanda’s new creation still left strapped around her hips via harness from last night’s endeavors. It took a lot of research and magical effort for Wanda to create her enchanted strap that functions like a biological part of her body. Using her magic, she enchanted the strap so that she can feel through it and cum through it. Let’s just say the first few tries once she perfected it could be described as very quick, hot, and wet on her end. It was the most mind-blowing feeling she had ever felt, being able to feel you inside. Even now, a few weeks later, she still warns you how sensitive it still is, which you could tell from the beginning because of how fast she came with you.
Wanda’s magic was very powerful—spontaneous creation. For that reason, she insisted on wearing a condom the first several times using the enchanted strap out of fear of accidental pregnancy, though you knew she secretly had a breeding kink. Finally, she stopped using condoms, but she still pulled out of you every time. It was hot, seeing her get so close to just doing it, to just letting go and planting her cum deep inside you. You could see it on her face every time. But every time, milliseconds before release, she pulls out and chooses to spill all over your tummy or back instead. Of course, that was also hot in its own right. But you desperately wanted her to cum inside. You weren’t sure if it was the risk or the ownership aspect of it, but you fucking needed it.
And you knew she wanted it too. She had a tendency to hold you down when she’s about to cum, almost as if she is about to force you to take her cum, which you willingly would take every single drop. You even told her in a heated moment of passion to cum inside you once, and she almost did accidentally. Hearing you say that made her orgasm immediately, and she had to frantically pull out right as she spurted all over your mound, making sounds you’d never heard her make.
And now, in the dim morning light with cozy rain coming from outside, and Wanda’s soft, warm sleeping body with her cock in your hand as you thought over all these times with the new magical piece, you wanted it.
But she was so pretty and peaceful in her sleep with her crinkled brow of dreams and her slowly rising and falling chest. You wouldn’t wake her.
Licking your lips, you shifted your body so that you hovered over her, taking great care in slinking down her body without moving the blankets or the bed too much. With the hem of the blanket resting at the back of your neck, you rested your elbows over her plush thighs, eyeing the strap that now sat right in front of your face.
Humming, you trail your fingers to the harness straps, fiddling with the fabric on her hips for a moment before you carefully let them trail to the base of her cock, taking it in your fist gently. Glancing back up to her, you saw the same image—her head resting on the pillow, turned to the side, sleeping peacefully like an angel. The warmth between your legs grew as you formulated the plan of your desires, licking your lips and coming closer to her strap.
You placed Wanda’s length in your mouth. It surprised you every time how big she was—an advantage she smugly gave herself when crafting her piece. Suctioning your lips, you began to swirl your tongue around the tip of the strap with a gentle but purposeful pressure.
It didn’t take long before your mouth ignited the spell within the strap, and her magic peered through the silicone in cracks that looked like molten lava in a crimson hue. That’s how you knew she was aroused now, and as you looked up at her again, she was still sleeping as peacefully as ever.
It took some practice for you to understand how to give your girlfriend a blowjob since it was your first time, but Wanda was patient and could get off with basically any touch you gave her with how sensitive the strap felt when she wore it anyways.
So you lowered your mouth further down on her strap that was warming up between your lips, keeping your hand on the base to keep it steady. Letting your other hand gently squeeze her thigh, you sucked her gently, wanting to make her feel good but not wanting to wake her up. It startled you when, as you took her entirety in your mouth so that the tip of her cock poked the back of your throat, Wanda’s legs twitched under you. It was only once and, looking up as you deepthroated her, you saw that the sleeping look on her face remained unchanged.
The depth with which you took her in your throat prompted tears to form in your eyes and saliva in your mouth. Sniffling, you kept taking her all the way in and then suctioning as you lifted your mouth from her, letting your tongue flick around her tip before deepthroating her again. You were slow and gentle, but she was hot and throbbing with magical arousal. You could even smell it on her now and, reaching down under the base where her slit was, you found that she was wet there, too.
Getting excited, you bobbed your head perhaps a little too hard, and she twitched again, this time letting her head sway to the other side. You paused, waiting for any sign of further movement or signs of being awake, but she was still deep asleep, the crease in her brow deeper now. You went back to sucking her off dutifully, and as wet sounds filled the air, Wanda moved again, this time arching her back. The movement sent her hips bucking up, which shoved her cock into your throat unexpectedly, causing you to choke on her girth.
Recovering, you continued carefully and watched as she twitched and squirmed in her sleep, somehow still staying deep asleep even as you could feel her throb faster. Her lips fell open at one point, soft gasps of air filling the quiet, dim room along with your wet sucking sounds. Her body heated up even more under your hands, and she started to buck her hips more.
Picking up your speed, you deepthroated her more and more, choking yourself on her strap while she grew even more restless. You knew she was seconds away from cumming, so you grabbed the base of her strap and sucked harder and faster. Finally, with a whispery, sleepy moan, and a more violent twitch of her hips, Wanda came in your mouth. You kept your mouth around her, feeling her warm cum gush at the back of your throat and ooze down it. You waited, letting her twitch and gasp and push out every last drop of cum before you finally swallowed it and took her out of your mouth. She was sweet to the taste with just a hint of metal, an interesting mix of her magic that reminded you of the taste of her real arousal.
There were many benefits to this magical creation of Wanda’s, one of many being that there was an unlimited supply.
Her cock now wet and shiny and slightly glowing, you carefully crawled back up her body and straddled her. She had almost immediately fallen back into utter stillness as soon as she came, except for her chest that was rising and falling much faster now. Biting your lip, you reached down and took her breasts into your hands, squeezing and letting your thumb roll over her nipples that were already rock hard for you. You could feel her cock, resting below your thigh, twitch and throb, basically vibrating with magic. All you could taste was her cum that coated the inside of your mouth, the taste still soaked into your tongue.
She just looked so pretty, even more relaxed now, having just helplessly cum in your mouth without even knowing it. Leaning down, you pressed a chaste kiss to her still lips before moving your mouth to her neck and pressing soft, wet kisses there. You let your hand grope her breasts for a moment before sliding it down and rubbing her tummy, lowering it further and further until you reached below yourself and took her strap in your hand again.
Still kissing her neck, and feeling her twitch once below you, you adjusted yourself over her cock and rubbed your throbbing, wet slit down her length, not letting it go inside. You remember the first time you did that, before she ever went inside you with the new strap, and she had prematurely came. She had been so embarrassed, taking off the cum-filled condom and tearing the strap off of her and getting up, but you’d found it so hot. You loved having this control over her. You loved knowing that you held this power over her, that you could make her cum so easily, that she desired you so much that she found it hard to even have any control. You wanted to tease her constantly, to degrade her and embarrass her by using her desire for you against her.
Wanda’s sleepy breaths hitched as you rubbed your warm, wet folds up and down her length, leaving a wet, sticky trail on the strap. She shifted under you, turning her head back to the other side. Her eyebrows creased deeper, her face contorting into a look of neediness as she subconsciously bucked her hips, pushing herself harder onto you. Chuckling, you gave her one last kiss on her neck before sitting up fully, unable to control yourself anymore. You wanted to get what you truly wanted out of her before she woke up.
Your breathing growing heavier, along with the rain pattering much harder on the window outside, you lined Wanda’s cock up with your entrance, letting it sit there pressed against it for a moment. You took a deep breath—her size still surprised you, and you still needed to relax and prepare yourself before taking her in. Thanks to the blowjob and how wet you were, there was enough lubrication for you to lower yourself down on her cock, feeling her slide right in and stretch your walls around her.
“Fuck,” you whispered as you stopped halfway, feeling a tinge of pain. Wanda shifted beneath you, which didn’t help, so you just took another deep breath and basically slammed yourself down on her, Wanda’s entire cock ramming deep inside you.
As if on cue, right as you let out a louder shriek than you meant to because of the way her cock hit your cervix, Wanda also let out a sleepy form of a moan, her head swaying to the side as her legs shifted under the blankets below you.
Placing your hands on her shoulders, you stayed still and felt her throb inside you as she squirmed, watching her eyes scroll side to side behind her eyelids. Biting your lip, you slowly lifted yourself off halfway before coming back down again, nearly seeing stars when she hit your deepest point again.
It was obvious that doing this wasn’t going to keep her asleep for much longer. She was still moving, eyelids fluttering, lips twitching as if trying to speak between her growing breaths. She was breathing faster now, redness blooming on her cheeks.
There was no point in being careful now. Grinding your teeth together, you rolled your hips, throwing your head back as she hit your sweet spot in your lower tummy. She was so big that her cock was basically all you could feel as you rode her, feeling pure pleasure bloom inside you as you anticipated the ending you were dreaming about.
“Mmmm-nnnn” Wanda murmured as she squirmed more beneath you, kicking at the sheets covering her feet and arching her back. “Ahhh…” She was starting to come to, being lured by your actions into an in-between state between sleeping and waking. She was arching her back off the bed and bucking her hips up into you, natural instinct to have more friction and be as close to you as possible coming through.
Power filled you as you stared down at the helpless witch, her cock lodged deep inside you, throbbing as you bounced on it. You bit the tip of your tongue and squeezed her shoulders, digging your nails into her skin as you rode her cock.
The feeling of your nails in Wanda’s skin was the one thing that brought her into awareness. Her eyelashes fluttered, mouth dropping open. Finally, her eyes opened fully, exposing those pretty irises that were usually green but were now a deep, sleepy crimson red from the magic she was subconsciously using.
A grin slashed across your own face, your tummy filled with excitement as you watched the look of confusion on Wanda’s once peaceful face. This was the second moment you were anticipating the most. Her eyebrows contorted in confusion as she stared up at you, her eyes blank with dumb sleepiness at first as her mouth let out heavy breaths. Then she blinked a few times, her eyes falling down over your body and to her own. She saw her cock, glistening with wet, appear halfway with every other bounce you made. She watched it appear as you lifted up, and then disappear again as you slapped yourself down on her lap.
Then she felt it. The tight, wet warmth. The squeezing of your walls around her. The more textured parts around your cervix, how much warmer and tighter you felt the deeper she was. Your lips smushed against the base of her cock when you had her fully inside. The ridges of your cunt massaging her length as you jerked up and down on her, the friction feeling like a white hot flame of pleasure with each stroke.
Her mouth fell open wider with a loud, startled moan, her hands immediately slapping onto your hips and holding them. “Baby!” she exclaimed in surprise, trying to blink the bleariness out of her eyes as you continued fucking yourself on her.
You giggled at her reaction, how she was confused but so turned on and so obviously overwhelmed by the feeling of you milking her cock as soon as she woke up, this being the very first thing her consciousness experienced this rainy morning. You felt her cock swell a little inside you, now that she was awake with her magic.
Her breathing turned into gasps, her eyes squeezing shut as she hissed through her teeth, her hips trembling as you slammed down onto them. “Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck,” she croaked, her voice sleepy and husky and burning hot in your ear.
“I always wanted to wake you up like this,” you whispered, scratching down her chest and over her nipples, causing her to let out the cutest little high-pitched whimper.
“Fuck,” was all she could whisper, holding your hips as they bounced up and down on her length.
You could see the sweat breaking on her forehead, the flush in her cheeks, the way her tummy tightened under your palm. She was getting close.
“D-Did you use prot-protection?�� Wanda stammered, her brown hair starting to stick to her temples. She knew the answer. She could feel it, but she needed to ask anyway.
Chuckling, you let out a pornographic moan just to make her shudder and then said, “Nope.”
Wanda’s eyes widened a little in panic. She could already feel herself leaking a little, or maybe it was just your wetness, which was also dripping down her shaft and onto her thighs. Through the slight panic in your eye you could see the desperation, the idea she always dreams about sitting right there in her brain.
You purposefully clenched, and she bit her lip and threw her head back, her body lifting off the bed as she pushed herself into you. You gasped at the depth but used your strength to pin her hips back down to the bed.
“Baby,” she breathed, her eyes barely open. “Baby, get up.” Her voice grew breathy with quickness. “I’m gonna cum. Get up.” She slapped your hip a few times to make you get up, but you kept riding her.
“No,” you purred, leaning down closer to her face and smirking. “You can easily push me off if you want to.” You watched her, struggling to keep her eyes open, her body moving with your bouncing, look up at you with such a strong mix of horror and desire on her face. You waited, but she only continued to struggle beneath you, not making any effort to use her magic or strength to push you off. “So why don’t you?”
Wanda whined, throwing her head back and closing her eyes as if just looking at you was going to make her bust. Her nails dug into your hips as she trembled, looking like the pleasure was turning into pain as you continued to ride her. There was no way she would actively deny you. She could stop herself all she wanted when it was her in control, but if you were going to take it from her, she couldn’t not acquiesce.
“Baby, please,” she murmured through gritted teeth, tears forming in the corners of her eyes from the struggle to keep herself from cumming. You knew she could stop it if she wanted to—you didn’t have her physically wrangled, and even if you did, her magic could put an end to it immediately. “Please, get up, I can’t hold it.”
Grinning, you slam your hand over her throat, and she gasps, choking slightly as you squeeze her throat. “You’re so cute like this,” you whisper, “Begging me to stop. You’re the one who can’t control yourself.”
Tears were falling down her cheeks now. “Please, please,” she begged, her eyes squeezed shut. “Please, baby, I can’t—I can’t hold it—I’m gonna cum, fuck, please…”
“Do it. Give me all your cum,” you hiss, riding her harder to the point where the bedframe slams against the wall. Wanda, choking on the pressure of your hand around her throat, trembled and violently twitched below and inside you as she tried her hardest to hold it. But she was hot to the touch, and so were you, and your cunt felt so good squeezing around her cock, and you were taking complete advantage of her which she found to be so hot, and she hadn’t been able to stop dreaming about breeding you for weeks now, and it was all too much for her to even stop it.
“Fuck, baby, fuck, get off, I’m gonna… fuck, fuck fuck!”
Wanda’s nails dug into your hips as her words turned into incoherent babbles, her mouth falling wide open and her body lifting completely off the bed as she finally lost all control. You tried to watch her as long as you could, but your eyes fluttered closed when finally you felt her cock give one last hard twitch before loads of her burning hot cum went gushing deep inside you, splashing the wall of your cervix and filling your tummy all up.
The feeling made you cum, shivering on top of her and squeezing around her which only prolonged her orgasm even more. Wanda saw flashing images of you pregnant, which had been fueling what she thought was fear for weeks now, but she was learning just now that that fear was pure fetish. She tugged your hips down onto her and pushed herself as deep inside you as possible as she loaded you with her cum, surprising you with her strength as she kept you in a complete hold.
After a few moments, when she had filled you with all she had to give, which was a shocking amount this time because of how long she had held it, and you were limp against her chest, recovering from your own orgasm, Wanda finally relaxed, letting go of your hips and closing her eyes.
“Fuck,” she breathed, panting as sweat rolled down her tear-streaked face. You were quiet for a minute, relishing the feeling of a full tummy of Wanda’s cum, her cock throbbing gently in your cunt. You were so glad she’d enchanted that strap.
Finally, you hummed, looking up at her. She looked dazed and fuzzy-minded, her eyes hooded and cheeks blushing red from embarrassment. She sighed and grinned sheepishly, placing her hands over her face. You smirked. “That was a lot better than cumming on my tits, right?”
Wanda breathed. “Well, good morning to you, too.”
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#scarlet witch#scarlet witch x reader#marvel#lgbt#lesbian#top!wanda#power bottom#subby top wanda#sub top wanda#elizabeth olsen#lizzie olsen#wanda maximoff x f!reader
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Honey
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x f!reader
Genre: smut
warnings: strip tease, kinda public sex?, unprotected sex, creampie, simp mingyu, established relationship, dry humping (in a hot tub), fingering, face fucking/oral (m. receiving), porn with feelings, mingyu has a thing for being called husband, breeding kink
Length: ~2.8k
Note: inspired by the two seconds of mingyu in lalali. sorry @gyuswhore next time dont let your man act like a fool. this is a continuation of Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) but can be read as a stand alone! see below for their master list
Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) [f,s], Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) II [f]
Pre-Drunk Goggles (in order): Peaches [f], Bite the Bullet [f, h], Jealousy [a, h]
Post-Drunk Goggles (in order): Silk [s], Aphrodite [f, s], Discovery [s], Lucky Me [f], adamas et aurum [f], Baby Blues [f]
Summary: The best way to recover from the stress of your wedding and celebrate your marriage? Some private time in the hot tub with your new husband.
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
Twenty four hours.
You’d been married for twenty four hours and can barely keep your eyes open from exhaustion. Not because of your husband and the vigorous but romantic sex he insisted on having on every surface of the cabin your friends chipped in to rent as a wedding present. No, you’ve barely managed to touch each other beyond agonizingly fatigued kisses and sentimental cuddles.
Last night you both barely managed to make it into the bed before passing out cold. This morning, you found Mingyu nodding off at the stove after insisting on cooking breakfast while you showered. A few lazy gropes during breakfast (Mingyu’s hand barely toeing the line of indecent on your thigh) and a hot kiss before he left the bed was all the action managed in the first day as a newly wed couple.
It’s still a funny word: husband. For so long husband was hypothetical; a distant idea that someday you’d have one. Maybe. If you found someone you could put up with long enough to start considering them as a long term partner instead of a fling.
And then Mingyu went from an acquaintance to boyfriend in a matter of months and the hypotheticals started shaping into realities with shocking speed.
The amorphous face of your hypothetical-husband slowly started to resemble Mingyu’s day after day. Week after week. And now, after months of planning, hair pulling, and a day full of tears, Mingyu is your husband.
And he’s waiting for you in the hot tub just outside.
It’s the middle of the day but time ceases to maintain importance on vacation. But after a late breakfast you both agreed the best thing for your aching bodies was an afternoon relaxing in the hot tub until you both pruned like raisins.
You spot the head of dark hair belonging to your fiance husband through the glass sliding doors leading onto the back porch. Beyond him is a full view of the lake, sparkling under the sun. It’s a deception of warmth but a breathtaking sight nonetheless.
But nothing compared to Mingyu whipping around at the sound of the door opening with a pleased smile. Until his eyes drop to your bikini.
“Why are you wearing that?” he asks with a pout.
Glancing down at the black two piece, you pout back. “I thought you liked this one?”
“I like whatever you wear, but the point of being married is that we can walk around naked as much as we want.”
“We already do that.”
“And it’s one of my favorite traditions,” Mingyu says, resettling across the tub to watch. “Now get that off and get over here. I miss you.”
You reach behind your back, you tug at the string of your top until the knot unravels. As the fabric slackens around your chest, Mingyu’s eyes follow with rapt attention. He’s seen you naked thousands of times but never fails to act like it's the first again. Your nipples peak under his stare, sensitive as the fabric brushes against them as you fling the top to the ground.
“Now we’re the same,” you say with a coy smile, closing the space to the hot tub in a few short steps.
“Wrong.” He fumbles for a second, hands disappearing under the surface. The water sloshes around as he battles to pull off his shorts and drops them to the deck with a splat. “The only thing I want to see you in are those rings.”
“Mingyu!” you gasp mockingly, ignoring the heat pooling between your legs in favor of dragging out the game. “What if someone sees?”
No one will. The cabins on either side of yours are dark and empty, and most of the houses skirting around the lake are so far away no one could possibly decipher what you two were doing in the shade of the porch awning anyway.
“Then they’ll see how beautiful my wife is.”
Blood rings in your ears at the way he says it; fond with a hint of pride. Like he still can’t believe you said yes in the first place. Like it was ever a question if and not when.
Mingyu whines pathetically as you scramble to remove your flimsy bottoms without flourish. It's too cold to stand around and do a full strip tease even if your husband’s eyes burn right through you. They join his swimsuit at the foot of the tub before you slip into the gentle embrace of the water.
Your ass barely meets the seat before Mingyu pulls you into his lap and kisses you. Arms circling around his shoulders, you sink a hand in his hair and tug until he welcomes your tongue. Your thighs straddle across his, bare skin on bare skin only interrupted by the silky feel of water. Even that doesn’t manage to disguise the electricity between your bodies. Or the fact that Mingyu's cock is already hard and waiting for use.
“Mmm. Missed you,” he whispers into the warmth of your cheek before descending across your jaw.
Bones turning to jelly, you melt under his attention like always. Mingyu loves to make you putty with little effort. You tip your chin up to make room for his tongue over the dip between your collarbones. “I was gone for five minutes.”
“Too long.”
He punctuates the complaint with a harsh suck of your nipple. It puckers between his teeth, sensitive and needy for attention. The sting serves as the perfect distraction from his hands sliding lower to palm your ass, fingertips grazing your entrance.
“Fuck,” you gasp. Your hips search for more pleasure, sinking back until Mingyu stretches you around his knuckles with practice ease. The water washes away any arousal lingering but you won’t give up the prod of thick fingers for a little discomfort.
“Can you say it?”
Even before it became official he loved hearing you say any declaration that he belongs to you: boyfriend, fiance, and now—
“Husband.”
Mingyu groans into your chest as you whisper his new epithet, exploding with renewed vigor across your neglected breast. Indulging in the way his cock twitches against your thigh at the word, you curl your hips into the pressure. It's a difficult choice: Mingyu’s fingers filling you just right or the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit.
Moving back and forth, the water sloshes over the sides of the tub as you greedily try to keep both. It’s hotter knowing Mingyu gets off on it too; the way you always want more, more of him, his hands, his mouth, his cock. Even rutting across his thigh after he cums until it hurts can make him hard again if you’re enjoying yourself.
Sinking a hand down, you tug at his cock, jerking him off right against your folds. With a tight fist, you crumble Mingyu to pieces with a few short strokes. The effort is rewarded with bites into your bottom lip and a hand at the base of your spine.
“Wait, shit,” he gasps. He’s closer than he wants to be. Clear in the tightness of his shoulders and pinch around his nose. Nothing gets him hotter than the memory of your first time together, when he used you pussy to jerk himself off; coating your panties in his cum. You know he still has a picture from the second time he did it saved on his phone after all these years.
Mingyu’s lips don’t leave yours as he stands, carrying you to the lip of the tub and sitting back down. He doesn’t let you slip to your knees in front of him at first. You’re trapped with lewd kisses and the flex of his fingers into the dip of your waist until he calms.
“Let,” kiss. “Me,” kiss. “Taste,” teeth. “You.”
Mingyu bucks into your ass at the offer before letting go. He’s never said no to a blowjob and he won’t start now given how much you like it too.
But he’s cocky, arms resting on the edge of the tub as he presents the nude visage of his front like a dare. It’s bold given his habit of devolving into a needy mess at the first hint of satisfaction.
Your hand keeps pace while your lips ghost down Mingyu’s neck. His nipples stiffen with quick attention, almost more sensitive than your own but that isn’t your goal right now. Your mouth starts to water when you reach his stomach, tracing the ridges and dips with all the time in the world.
Just as Mingyu gets the first syllable of protest at the tip of his tongue, you suck him between your lips with cruel enthusiasm.
All the kinks in his armor become the highlights: a coarse lick where he leaks, a tight fist at the base, your other hand cupping lower until he moans loud enough to echo across the lake. For your own sick pleasure, you back away enough to tap him against the flat of your tongue, pink against the tip of his cock, eyes on his until Mingyu is forced to look away or risk painting your face in white far too soon.
“Slow down,” he commands. More of a beg since his head tips back when you take him until the curve of your throat objects. “Fuck–Jesus Christ.”
You arch your spine, ass displayed like a prize. Another one of Mingyu’s weaknesses. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s let you suck him off without reaching over to feel how wet you get from the weight against your tongue. If he chances a look down again (inevitable) you’ve provided a great surprise.
His cock falls from your hold long enough to rasp, “Fuck my mouth.”
At the end of the day, who is Mingyu to deny his wife what she demands for?
Timid with the first thrust like always, Mingyu plants a hand on the back of your head, fingers woven into your hair for his own sanity. You like to surprise him by filling your throat as quickly as possible just to see Mingyu squirm. Nothing makes you blinder to your own limits than his pleasure. But years of taking him make it easy to work around.
He’s trying. The effort is in the twitch of muscles bracketing your shoulders, the gentle tugs of his fingers, the way Mingyu can barely bite back the flow of curse when you choke around him deep in your throat. Your jaw is already growing sore but no obstacle against the desire to see Mingyu shake.
Then Mingyu does something that shocks you.
Your hand pauses its work under the gentle squeeze of his. Mouth still full, you flash your eyes open to find him staring down in awe. For a second you wonder if it's just because time had been short the past few weeks between wedding planning and traveling. But then he pulls your hand away from his cock and towards your mouth, and you finally realize what caught his attention.
The rings. The plain band that matches the one circling his finger and the special one he spent months trying to keep a secret.
Mingyu kisses across your knuckles, thumb tracing the metal and stone like it’s a wonder. He did the same motion over and over again last night: walking back up the aisle as husband and wife, at the reception as you both greeted guest after guest while glued to each other, in the car ride to the cabin across the center console, before you both fell asleep still fully clothed.
Without any words, you’re pulled up into his lap for a searing kiss.
“I love you,” he sighs. His tongue slides against yours, slick as he tastes the mess you happily lapped up at his crotch.
“I love you too.”
You feel it. Feel it more than anything in the world. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It shivers down your spine, and blushes across your front. The effect of those three words, simple but so much more, seems almost too much for the daylight just beyond the awning of the porch.
Out of the water, the cool air prickles along your back, forcing your chest to cave against the cold but Mingyu is there to warm you up with the stretch of his cock.
You hide the satisfaction in the column of his neck, teeth razing wet across the vein there. He tastes like chlorine and that expensive cologne you jump his bones for. The idea of leaving a bruise like some teenager where everyone can see settles an ache in your core. It’s the first time Mingyu is inside you as your husband and it nearly rips apart the fabric of your being,
In a frenzy, your hips rut before Mingyu can orient himself to the snug feel of your walls. The angle is nothing short of cosmic. Clit rubbing against his pubic bone, cock battering that place inside that makes your joints lock. And the stretch after an unfulfilling glimpse on his fingers only burns you hotter.
The slap of your skin against his is an afterthought, background noise to grunts and groans and pathetic whines that meld between your mouths. In the thick of need, you aren’t even kissing. Just panting into one another’s mouth with narrowed vision.
Mingyu sinks you lower in his lap with a smooth grind. “Tell me how it feels.”
“Like my husband is trying to get me pregnant.” You go cross eyed from the drag of his thumb against your worn bundle of never. Nothing makes him more desperate to please than the thought of you heavy with his your baby.
No chance it’ll happen any time soon but the sentiment does wonders.
Another hard thrust threatening to leave you bedridden for the next week.“Fuck—please.”
“You’re mine,” Mingyu groans.
Writhing against his grip, sweat blooms at your brow. You can’t manage to respond with more than a cracked whine. Too focused on the wave rushing across the edges of your senses.
“There! Fuck! Right there, Gyu.” You come in hot, carried by the rough way Mingyu forces you down his cock again and again.
Nails biting into his biceps, your insides flutter tight, trying to pull Mingyu deeper even if he’s snug to the hilt. Full, deep, stretched beyond belief. Eyes cinched, muscles vibrating, you cum on your husband's cock with a broken grunt you’ll remember to be embarrassed about later.
“That's it, take it.” Mingyu coos with an edge. “My pretty fucking girl, my wife. Mine, all mine.”
Your knees hurt and your legs are numb from exertion and a killer orgasm. But you won’t call it until Mingyu gets his fill too.
“Close?” you pant.
A hand at your throat is the warning, already knowing your plans to goad him to the edge if he isn’t there already. His thumb cocks your chin up so his tongue can lick the words right out of your mouth.
A few more weak movements spell his ends. Mingyu cums with a grunt. Muscles tense, stomach caved, you scramble for hold under the threat of slipping back into the hot tub from the rushes of his cock to stuff you full with his spend. You’ll be sore tomorrow from the way he forces your thighs wider, until you’re flat against him, taking it deeper.
A sticky mess grows between your legs, warmly welcomed since the last time you felt it weeks ago. A peek between your bodies gets you ready to go again. But you still crave more. Ringed white around the base, Mingyu twitches inside you again when you clench just to tease him.
“Love you, love you, love you…” Mingyu chants into your mouth until he goes slack with a long huff.
You find rest in his shoulder. Mingyu rubs his cheek against yours, innocent and domestic. He isn’t shy about most things but after you fuck eachother silly he likes to remind the universe its from a place of devotion.
“Marriage looks good on you.”
“You too.” You smile. “Now take me to bed, I’m not done with you yet.”
“Whatever my wife demands.”
“That's my good husband.” The hand ruffling his hair is quickly snatched away, giving Mingyu the perfect opening to toss you over his shoulder before heading inside.
--
Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie
@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire
@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @bbychocolat
@dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos
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#svthub#ksmutsociety#kvanity#svt x reader#kim mingyu x reader#mingyu smut#kim mingyu#svt smut#seventeen smut#kim mingyu smut#🫡 highvern
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under a new morning sun (5/?)
Turns out, being trapped in the Fade isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Rogue Min Hawke learned this at Adamant. Luckily for her, her lover Varric Tethras refused to believe that she was really gone.
Varric rescued Hawke from the Fade with the help of the Inquisition, but there were consequences. Spending time in the physical Fade has left them Fade-touched: Varric is now a dwarf who can dream, and Hawke has developed mage abilities. Together, they’ve returned to Kirkwall for a well-deserved rest.
Old estrangements, new powers, and ghosts from the past make for a homecoming that doesn’t exactly go as planned, even as the Inquisition’s mission marches on and Kirkwall struggles to rebuild. Hawke must find a way to master her newfound magic and strike a path forward with family, friends and Varric at her side.
Chapter 1: Rearranged | Chapter 2: Making the Rounds | Chapter 3: In the Evening Hour | Chapter 4: The Message
Chapter 5: this is fine
“Right. Let’s give it another go,” said Hawke stubbornly. “I can get it this time. I swear on the Maker’s arse.”
“Oh, dear,” said Merrill. She and Bethany stood by the hearth, near the furniture they had pushed to the edges of the room for practice.
“Sister, that’s terribly sacreligious,” Bethany said, rolling her eyes. “Aren’t you ever serious?”
Hawke stuck her tongue out, and Bethany sighed. “Ask a stupid question…”
Hawke took a deep breath, concentrating. Her hands trembled slightly, reaching, reaching, straining for something beyond. The book in front of her quivered, then began vibrating on the table near the wall, bouncing up and down of its own accord before it collapsed back to the wooden surface.
“I did it!” Hawke whooped.
Bethany stifled a giggle. “All right, yes, you generated a force wave that moved the book. Very good. Better than when you punched a hole through the table with force.”
“That was an accident,” said Hawke loftily. “What can you expect? I’m a beginner.”
“But you’re coming along nicely,” said Merrill. “You can use your mana now for both fire magic and force magic.”
Hawke stuck her tongue out again, this time in concentration, and called a tiny flame to her palm. It sputtered and crackled before fading out again, and then she sat down heavily, feeling faint.
“You mustn’t overdo it,” said Merrill. “You haven’t got the stamina yet.” She nodded to the glass of water at Hawke’s elbow. “You ought to have some.”
“You’re doing very well, Min,” Bethany agreed. “But I think that’s enough for today. You look worn out.”
“I look magnificent,” said Hawke, but she gulped the water down all the same, waiting for her head to stop spinning. She huffed out a sharp breath between pressed lips. “How did you both get through this as children? I mean, I’m utterly fine , but… it’s rather a lot, isn’t it?”
Bethany and Merrill exchanged a look Hawke couldn’t read. “It was just life,” said Merrill. “Ever since I was small. The Keeper took me under her wing, and taught me so many things. I was very proud of my magic. But it wasn’t always easy. The more you know, the more you have to be careful. You’ve seen that.”
“So then why learn at all?” Hawke asked. Bethany looked scandalized, and Hawke backtracked quickly. “Well, I mean, I understand if you’re very powerful, you’ve got to learn to be safe with things, but you’ve both said I’ve got little going on in the way of strength. Do I really need to ever use this, aside for parlor tricks?”
Bethany sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if Dad ought to have taught you and me and Carver all the same sorts of lessons,” she said, sitting down beside Hawke on the settee. Merrill perched on the settee’s arm, next to Hawke. “There’s just… only so much of magic that you can ignore. You’ll always use it, some way, in the end.”
“And certainly you’ve seen enough of what can go wrong,” said Merrill, looking uncharacteristically solemn. “My Keeper, Enchanter Orsino, all the mages who’ve lost themselves in a bargain with a spirit…” Hawke heard, but Merrill didn’t say, Anders’ name. “You’ve got to be able to know who you are, and what you’re about. And that comes with practice.” She patted Hawke on the shoulder.
“Demons and temptation are a part of life with magic,” said Bethany sadly. “The number of times some wretched demon has tried to tell me it can give me a cure --” She shook her head, nose wrinkling in disgust. “It’s quite annoying at this point. But in dark times… resolve can falter, and not even the Chant can help one through it. Which is why mastering oneself is so important.”
Hawke squirmed at her sister’s mention of the Chant. Oh, sure, she believed some of it, but she’d never understood the way that Bethany could lean on it, on the Maker, and find comfort or solace. The Maker had always seemed to Hawke like more of a distant relative than a protecting presence, and the Chant was far too stuffy for day-to-day life. Still, though. If it helped Bethany, Hawke figured she wasn’t going to fool with that.
“That’s fair,” Hawke sighed. “I suppose I was hoping there was some sort of back alley solution. Like, being half a mage. All the flash, none of the drawbacks. Is that an option?”
“Harder than you thought, dear sister?” asked Bethany sympathetically.
“Yessss,” Hawke whined, and they all laughed, though it wasn’t particularly funny.
-
“Well, this is a surprise,” Bianca murmured.
“Why should it be? You’re the one who wanted me to come back here,” Varric grumbled. Don’t let her get the better of you. You know how she is. He did know, and that was part of the problem.
He’d missed that sly voice, that gleam in her eyes. She was as beautiful as ever. He sat down by the roaring fireside, letting out a long sigh.
Bianca slid onto the bench beside him, pressing against him. He hissed sharply, his heart pounding at her warmth.
“So this is the Inquisition?” she asked casually, as if she hadn’t just decimated his personal space. “You’re coming up in the world, Varric. This is so much more ambitious than the Merchant Guild ever thought of being.”
“That’s not why I’m here, Sharps,” Varric said. Her old nickname felt unfamiliar in her mouth. She’d laughed about it, long ago; he’d started with Sharp for her biting cleverness, but realized it worked for her tongue, too. Hence the pluralization.
She laughed, the sound silky, silvery, confident. Fuck. He’d missed her.
“So why are you here, trickster? Why’d you come when I called? Got a new tale to spin?” Her fingers danced along the back of his neck, and he shivered. Something about this wasn’t right.
“I -- I don’t know --” His mind was blank. Kirkwall shifted around them, except that it was Skyhold, wasn’t it? But then why was the Great Hall so empty? The fire had burned out long ago. Ashes lay cold and spent in the lonely hearth.
He groaned. “Something’s wrong. Have to set it right.”
“That’s what they say, isn’t it?” Bianca asked. She curled up beside him, her skin soft against his own, and together they watched the sunset over the harbor. If it was green-tinged instead of flush with reds and golds, he didn’t notice.
Until he woke up, stiff from the crappy inn bed and its lumpy mattress. “Stupid dreams,” he said, rubbing his eyes with his fists. “Should’ve known.”
He blinked at the sunrise, its florid light beginning to trickle in through the grimy window. Right. The ship from Kirkwall had gotten in late last night across the Waking Sea -- would he ever not get seasick making this trip? -- and he’d grabbed the first room near port he could find. Not the best choice, it turned out.
He stared up at the stained wooden ceiling in the growing light, wishing Hawke was nestled up beside him to hog the blankets and jab him with her incredibly sharp elbows. There were a hundred excellent reasons for him to be returning to help the Inquisition and deal with the Bianca situation. A thousand. Probably more. He needed to do this, and it needed doing. The pragmatic side of him, pure Tethras, very firmly started listing them out.
But the Varric half missed a woman warm and real, a woman he’d nearly lost too many times to count; and that was the part that hauled himself out of bed, rummaged in his pack, and began to write.
-
Hawke slipped out the front of the estate quietly in the pre-dawn gray, Molossus at her heels. “Come on, boy,” she whispered. “Let’s get some air.”
The crispness in the air signaled the shift from summer into autumn, and Hawke shivered in a dark blue cloak, her daggers at her belt. She still hadn’t put on the old Champion’s armor, not since her rescue. Tomorrow, maybe, or the next day, she would unpack it. She’d barely been back for a week. There was no rush.
There were no nobles on the street this time of morning. This was the time for the people who really made Kirkwall run, the stallkeepers setting up their wares in the Hightown square, the merchants’ boys making food deliveries to the estate staff meeting them at back doorways, the housekeepers both elven and human heading to day jobs. City guards stood at their posts, yawning slightly at the end of their all-night shifts, waiting for the morning crew to relieve them. A few men and women ducked out when she passed the Blooming Rose, looking both furtive and satisfied.
Molossus trundled at her side, his nails tap-tapping on cold Kirkwall stone. Hawke smiled down at him, reaching out to brush a hand against the spot at the base of his ear where he loved to be scratched. He let out a huff and a grumble of appreciation. The first rays of the morning sun highlighted the burgeoning white of his muzzle.
Hawke frowned. He’s getting old. She cast back her memory. How old was he now? Twelve? Thirteen? He’d been an adult and fully trained when she and Carver found him injured on the battlefield at Ostagar, a warhound breathing hard with an arrow in his side. She still remembered Bethany’s look of compassion when Carver barged into the house in Lothering, the great dog cradled in his strong arms. Bethany’s healing skills weren’t as developed as Anders’, but they had done the trick, and ever since then Molossus had always been by the side of a Hawke.
“I’m glad you weren’t at Adamant,” she said under her breath. “You belong here, old boy.” She was so grateful that she had listened to her gut before setting out for Skyhold all those months ago. After Varric’s letter about the fall of Haven, the missing Wardens, and the return of Corypheus, she’d known she couldn’t hide from the Inquisition any longer. Luckily she’d been able to meet up with Aveline before she left the Free Marches, and had sent Molossus with her to find and protect Bethany. She’d missed him, and worried about him and Bethany both, but it had been the safer choice.
She hoped Bethany wasn’t fretting about her now. Perhaps she should have left a note at the breakfast table. Then again, she didn’t know where she was going or when she’d be back. She just… didn’t want to be in the estate right now.
Molossus nudged her hip, and Hawke managed a smile. “I know. Woke us both up, didn’t it.” She gazed at her gloved and gauntleted hands, seeing them as they had looked this morning, shaking and covered with ash.
Damn dreams!
It had been so real. Adamant, again. The smell of sand and deathroot and witherstalk. Fighting Wardens in blue like Bethany’s armor, demons gibbering and slavering on the ramparts. Varric beside her, Bianca’s firing mechanism a familiar, soothing sound in the battle’s loud roar. Better than that, Varric’s cheery voice calling out, “Got another one, Hawke!” or “Nice one, Sparrow!” They were going to win. She could feel it.
Until the Nightmare roiled out of the hole torn in the fabric of their world, claws straining for Varric’s throat. Hawke had leapt to his defense, her daggers held high -- her daggers suddenly aflame with righteous fire --
And she’d woken up with her bedcovers smoldering.
It only took a moment to put out the flame, smother it with another layer of blankets and then douse the whole thing with Molossus’ water dish. But extinguishing the fire left Hawke naked and panting on the floor, hands covered with damp warm ash, trembling badly.
Her foolish words taunted her. So then why learn at all?
She’d gotten up from the sodden, scorched bedclothes and dressed herself as quickly as she could, Molossus making concerned whining noises at her all the while. She had to get out. It was as simple as that.
The cool morning air on her face was a relief. This was real.
But the Fade had been terribly real, too --
No. No. This wasn’t anything like that. She scanned the faces of people passing her by, checking surreptitiously to make sure they were all unique, all fully human or dwarven or elven, no blurred features, no glowing eyes or shimmering auras. She checked the world before her for signs of symmetry, of acquiescence to the laws of nature -- no buildings beginning to float into the sky, no stairs that led to nowhere, no water flowing from the ground up into the air, no sunlight coming from opposite directions. She took deep breaths, and Molossus pressed himself against her as she walked, a grounding, solid presence against her leg.
She swallowed, twining her fingers beneath his leather collar for a moment before letting him go. Things were fine. She was fine. She simply needed more instruction than Bethany and Merrill had been able to provide as of yet. More immediate aid. Something that would take her dreams and lock them up tight so they couldn’t possibly get out --
The colony on the Coast. The thought came to her unbidden. Yes, that might be something. Something like a Circle… but not a Circle. She mulled the idea over, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.
Bethany hadn’t needed a Circle growing up. She’d done well with Dad as her only teacher. But then again, Bethany had been a child, and learning had come so quickly back then. Hawke was in her thirties and every time she thought she had gotten a concept down, it seemed to come round the other side of her mind and surprise her into screwing up again. Maybe she just wasn’t terribly good at learning. In that case, the more teachers, the better.
She paused, realizing she had wandered into the Dwarven Quarter. Her mouth quirked into something like a smile. Varric had always grumbled about this part of Hightown; perhaps it was why her hurried footsteps had led her here. Less of a slog than to the Hanged Man, but still a hint of Varric, all the same.
She found a deserted bench by a statue of some Paragon. A passing dwarf gave her a curious look -- a human and a wardog hanging out by Paragon So-and-So must look pretty strange, Hawke admitted. She sat down and Molossus curled up at her feet, taking a moment to get all the way down to the ground. His back legs trembled slightly, and she sighed, patting him on his side once he made it down.
“Good boy. The years catch up to us, don’t they?”
He gave her a skeptical look, as if to say I’m spry as ever! She chuckled. Dogs always did take after their masters, they said, and wasn’t it her luck to have the most sarcastic hound there’d ever been.
“You’re right. I was besmirching your strength. I’m dreadfully sorry,” Hawke apologized. Molossus gave her a look that was equal parts delight and self-satisfaction, then stretched out comfortably at her feet.
Her boots stared back at her, plain nugskin with onyx buckles. She realized she was dressed in some of her darkest, plainest clothes, and suddenly remembered Anders in that last painful year, his robes darkest samite, his face pallid, eyes hollow and haunted.
It’s not like that.
I’m not like that.
She sat in the quiet quarter as the sun rose, and she lied to herself until she felt a little better.
#hawke x varric#varric x hawke#dragon age#dragon age: inquisition#varric tethras#min hawke#under a new morning sun
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Everytime you make a new story I get so curious about the aftermath
You don’t have to make it a story, but after the story with the purple dust and Minotaur and orc couple, what happens???
First of all, thank @karleequinn for the idea of making the lady in the shower the same as the witch in the woods. Great idea for this story! Second, thank you for the prompt, I loved this story and I really wanted to make a follow up, and you gave me the perfect excuse. And thanks to everyone who asked for a second part of this. Hope is as good as y'all hoped. :)
The morning after
Orc x minotaur x fem!reader || oral sex, anal sex, lowkey voyeurism, lowkey praise kink (pretty vanilla) (part 1 of this if you haven't read)
You woke up with a pounding headache and feeling way too hot. Your whole body felt like it was inside an oven kinda hot. You tried to move, to get the fucking blanket off you, but the blanket wouldn’t move. You opened your eyes carefully, there was a faint glow from the window, like it was early morning and the sun is rising. You looked down and saw two strong arms around your middle, one dark brown, the other green. What the-
Oh shit.
Memories flooded your brain as you checked yourself, the ache between your thighs, your hips, your jaw… They fucked you thoroughly. Omg, you couldn’t believe you were weak enough to ask them to fuck you. You confessed your darkest fantasies about them. Omg. You were going to die of embarrassment.
Your thoughts were shut down by a deep sleepy voice next to you. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” The minotaur said, his grin so big you wanted to close your eyes and pretend the real world didn’t exist. He was beautiful, and you probably looked like a mess. He kissed your forehead and excused himself because of bad breath. The gesture so tender it made your eyes watery.
“Morning.” You mumbled, burrowing your head against his furry chest, suddenly shy.
“We should talk.” He whispered against your hair. You nodded, not lifting your head. You weren’t the one for confrontations, but it was inevitable. You came to them panting and crying because you were unable to cum, and they made you orgasm so hard you blacked out. That required a conversation. “Wake up, dude!” The minotaur flicked the orc’s ear over you, his hand still caressing your back up and down.
“Five more minutes.” The orc grunted against your neck, his tusks creating a phenomenal sensation ran up your spine as they touched your neck. He planted a kiss there, making you groan. That did it. He sat up so fast your body was propelled to the minotaur in front of you, who tightened his grip around your middle.
“You. You are here.” He stated, looking at you like you are a vision, which is probably very far from your current state. But amazement filled his features either way. He looked like he woke up on Christmas morning, and under the tree was the best gift ever.
The minotaur chuckled and sat up, carrying you with him. “Of course she is, you dickhead. Stop acting weird.” He manhandled you until you were sitting on his lap, your back to his front. At some point they put a way-too-big shirt over you. You thanked them silently, you really didn’t want to have this conversation naked.
“I- I. But she… She’s the… The witch did it.” He stuttered, looking at the minotaur intensely, his eyes watery. You didn’t understand what was happening, but a silent conversation was occurring over your head.
“She did.” The minotaur agreed.
“What did she do? What witch?” You asked rapidly, confused. “Someone needs to explain.” You stated, crossing your arms over your chest. The minotaur behind you uncrossed them and hugged you closer.
“She promised us the one was coming.” The orc clarified. As if his words were self explanatory and you weren’t confused as fuck about what he was saying.
“The one?” You asked, not believing what they were implying. There was no way you were the one for them. They had each other. You were a nobody.
“Yeah, she said the final piece to our puzzle was closer than we expected, and she would send her to us.” He explained, making your head dizzy with realizations. That couldn’t mean… There was no way they were talking about the witch in the woods, the one who blew you that weird purple thing.
“The witch from the woods.” The orc said out loud, reading your thoughts. “We were looking for a third in our relationship. We love each other but sometimes… Sometimes we miss having someone more, someone to care about, to cherish. We posted our offer online, and she answered. She came here and explained about her powers and how she could find the one for us. She was so sure… She only asked for one thing: she must have us before she could find you, so…” The orc explained slowly, his eyes never leaving your face, his full attention on you. You shivered, it was intense to have him looking at you like that.
“She’s the shower girl!” You finished, making the both of them gape at you in surprise.
“How do you know that?” They asked in unison, making you giggle.
“Your pipes are connected to mine apparently, my bathroom is basically a big amplifier.” You explained. You wanted to tell them more. Tell them how you masturbated to the sound of them. Tell them how you liked to brush your teeth at the same time they did so you wouldn’t feel so alone… But you didn’t. That would be too embarrassing to share. It wasn’t time for that. Not yet, at least.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna die. She heard me sing.” The orc lamented as his face turned bright green. You giggled and kissed his cheek, making the blush deeper.
“You are so damn cute.” You cooed at him, pinching his cheek.
“I’ll show you cute.” He growled as he launched at you and started tickling your stomach, making you scream and squirm. Your ass rubbed against the very hard minotaur’s bulge under your ass. The minotaur groaned, and you both stopped. The three of you were panting, and you could see the orc’s erection against his flimsy pants. Fuck… You could still feel him inside of you, the ache in your pussy so good you wanted to whimper. You moved your hips experimentally, rubbing yourself against the minotaur.
“Stop it.” He ordered, but his hips pushed up, making his erection fit perfectly between your ass cheeks and drawing your attention to the fact that you weren’t wearing anything underneath the shirt. You whimpered, and they both froze.
“You… You want us?” The orc asked. You remembered the exact moment when he asked you the same thing the day prior, how desperate you were, how willing to go to them for help. Now your head was clear, and your insides were twitching with excitement and anticipation.
“If you want me...” You looked between them, trying to see their reaction. The looks you saw there were so tender and so deep that you blushed fiercely. And then they moved in tandem.
One second you were sitting on the minotaur’s lap, and the next you were flat on your back, shirt off, and a big minotaur’s head between your legs. The orc sat beside you, his erection a few centimeters away from your mouth, but before you could stretch your neck to lick it, the minotaur’s tongue ran over your still sensitive pussy, making you cry out. The orc shushed you, whispering sweet words at you as the minotaur licked your pussy like it was ambrosia.
“Grab his horns, he loves that.” The orc instructed. You did just that, grabbing them at the base and squeezing. “Good girl.” You shivered at the orc’s words as the minotaur’s growl resonated against your clit and made you moan. “He’s very sensitive there.” The orc chuckled when you did it again, making the minotaur suck hard on your clit.
The orc moved, getting his precious dick away from you. “Where are you going?” You asked, breathless and needy. Your jaw was still hurting, but you didn’t care if you get to have some orc meat down your throat. You’d suffer gladly to have that pleasure.
“To prepare him.” He told you, making the minotaur groan against your pussy, licking you fervently, making out with your pussy like a pro. You rose a confused eyebrow. “To fuck his tight ass.” He grinned as he slapped said ass, making the minotaur whimper. That was the best sound you heard. You were always a sucker for men who whimpered, but minotaurs who whimpered? HOT.
“Can’t I suck you?” You pouted.
“Not today, sweetie.” He told you, his voice incredibly soft. “We were pretty rough with you last night.” He added, smirking at you, his tusks framing his smile beautifully. “You won’t be having any dick today.” He sentenced, making you whimper.
“But soon?” You asked, eagerly.
“Soon.” They both agreed rapidly.
And then there was no more conversation happening. The sounds they made, the complete greed eating your pussy. The sight of a big minotaur between your legs, your hands guiding his movements as you stroked his horns, and an even bigger orc fingering his ass until he cried out… You were in heaven. In monsterfucker heaven.
When the orc started to push inside, the minotaur stopped, making you whimper. “Don’t stop. Our pretty human needs orgasms.” The orc ordered, smacking the minotaur’s ass hard. You whimpered, why was that so fucking hot?
“You are so big.” The minotaur mumbled against your flesh, slowly licking your opening, his big tongue doing marvels to your pussy.
“You can take me. You always struggle but you love a big cock, and you know it.” He bottomed out in one thrust and all three of you moaned, the movement giving pleasure to all. “I can’t wait to show our pretty human how much of a whore you are. I bet she loves to play with your balls as I’m sitting on your cock. I bet she wants to play with that remote control vibrator you love so much. We can go dinner, I’ll prep you, she plays you… Yeah, you like that idea, right? I can feel your hole clenching. God, you feel so good.”
The mix of the orc’s words and the minotaur making out with your pussy set you off. You orgasmed hard while grabbing his horns so hard you think you hear him whimper. When you came back from your high, you looked down to him, his head is no longer between your thighs. The minotaur’s head looked up to the ceiling as the orc took your place holding his horns, making him arch his back impossibly. He was completely exposed to you, his dick leaking, his mouth open and his chest expanding with panting breaths. He looked glorious. They both did. And they were the hottest monsters you’d ever seen.
Your hand went to your pussy instantly, matching the orc’s thrusts with your own fingers. They were better than a porno, and being allowed to watch them fuck was the highest high you ever gotten. You felt dizzy with desire, so aroused you could feel the blood pumping in your veins, the heat running up and down your arteries. Your body felt like it was going to boil.
“I’m close. So close.” The minotaur groaned as he grabbed his big dick, jerking off furiously, pulling at your legs to get you closer to him, positioning his dick right over your quivering pussy. Your wrist touching the lower part of his dick as you pleasured yourself under him.
“On her. Do it on her.” The orc orders. “Come, now!” He added.
Both of you came at the same time, juices gushing out of you and his cum hitting your abdomen, your tits, your jaw… You were painted completely on his release. The orc was not far behind, looking directly into your eyes when he thrust deeply and growled, burying his seed inside his minotaur boyfriend. Now your minotaur boyfriend, too? You hoped the answer to that was yes.
You rolled over, all three of you laying on your backs breathing hard. “So… Are we a thruple?” The minotaur asked nobody in particular. All three of you laugh.
“Yeah… that seems about right.” You answered, turning to your side so they could hug you close. “I guess I’ll have to send that witch a gift basket or something.” You whisper to yourself as you fell asleep between your monster boyfriends.
Find part 3 here
#monster#monster fucker#monster imagine#monster x human#teratophillia#monster boyfriend#monster x reader#minotaur x orc x reader#minotaur x human#minotaur#minotaurs x reader#minotaur x reader#minotaur smut#orc x reader#orc x human#orc smut#orc x minotaur#terato#fem!reader#request
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" 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 . . . "
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐂𝐊 — Lucas Raine . .
introduction | masterlist | requesting rules . .
warnings : nsfw content / sixteen + content / gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / voyeurism kink / yandere jock / yandere content / pathetic / submissive(?) yandere /
Appearance: Lucas is pale (he's korean american) and a brunette, with light brown hair which is curly and cut in a mullet—which is almost always styled—he has a personal obsession with skin care (thanks to his ma) and he has glass skin. Lucas has vieny and large hands, along with a large physique that appears to be very overbearing to those around him—with a skinny waist—he stands at an outstanding 6,2ft. Lucas has hazel eyes, and during golden hour he'll stare at the sun and challenge it to a duel (he'll always fail), he often wears silver bracelets and has ears piercings, though he'll rarely wear earrings.
Character basic info: Lucas's birthday is on November the 3rd! He is bisexual, he has a hard time connecting with people, and has had a scarce amount of serious relationships, he usually loses interest fast, he's unamused and finds love repetitive and somewhat boring. Lucas is a possessive, obsessive, clingy, stalker type of yandere, who is somewhat dependent on you, not at much as Yoichi though.
backstory: Lucas is currently attending University for a degree in mechanical engineering and business, he got in through a sports scholarship, though he plans on becoming an athlete and is currently looking into it. Lucas is actually adopted, with two mom's, he calls them mom and ma respectively. His mom is a famous lawyer who is a perfectionist at heart, which seemed to have rubbed off on him as a result of observing her so much (he'd often read and do homework in her office). Lucas's ma on the other hand, put him in a whole lot of sports and afterschool programs, mainly because she wanted him to not be too feminine—and because she wanted him to try as many new things as possible. His parents can be a bit overbearing, but his childhood was decently comfortable, his parents were more than involved in his life and he couldn't be more grateful.
NSFW | 16 + CONTENT BELOW THE UNDERCUT . . .
Lucas is a switch, with an extremely high sex drive, he's a power bottom—he'll whine and nag as you have him pinned under you—he cries so easily, fucking into you, your insides so warm and soft—he's obsessed, he'll overstimulate you both, and leave you both a crying and sticky mess!!
As a top, Lucas is either rough or gentle, there's no in-between, he loves loves loves taking his time with you—savoring you—watching your face contort into pleasure as he has his way with you, his nails digging into your soft thighs, his mouth on your neck.
Lucas might have a small voyeurism kink—in the sense that he loses control around you, with you, to the sheer thought of you—you're like the off-switch to rationality, he seriously forgets where he is!! He can't help but grow—a little touchy, flirty, needy—the way your hands ghost over his own makes his knees weak!!—he really can't help it, if he's being a little out of hand . . if you didn't like it, you'd tell him to stop!!!
Lucas loves hickies, both receiving them and giving them . . . especially receiving them—mark him, make him your territory, he loves you, he loves being yours . . your hands on him are a delight, the feeling of your lips, teeth, saliva, on his skin is paradise, your marks—he wears them with sheer pride.
Kink-wise Lucas is into anything, he's very calm and open with anything, nothing is really a turn off for him . . spit on him, kick him, tie him down . . he doesn't mind!! . . Though he will be a bit more wary of doing the same to you . .
NON-NSFW HEADCANONS
Lucas's love languages are physical touch and acts of service, he'll have your favorite drink ready for you, every morning. He'll make handmade treats just for you—anything for you . .
Lucas collects small trinkets, and he has a special box filled with things he thinks you'd like—he's a bit embarrassed about it, it just seems very unlikely that someone like Lucas would collect trinkets, so he's a tinsy bit worried you'll judge him—which is weird since he's never really cared about anyone's opinion before you.
Lucas will get you to meet his parents pretty early onto any relationship, he just finds that if his parents like you, then it's a good sign beforehand, he's actually done this to all his friends and though he knows he'll marry you, and that you're the one . . . he wants you to meet the people who made him who he is now!
Lucas does have a note on his phone of the names of his future kids with you, and yes . . he does slightly plan on taking your last name . . . maybe. . possibly . . no comment.
@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.
#yandere#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere x reader#yandere writing#yandere community#yandere male#yandere blog#soft yandere#yandere x darling#yandere boyfriend#yandere boy#yandere thoughts#yandere scenarios#male yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere fic#yandere fanfiction#yandere smut#yandere oc smut#yandere drabble#male yandere#yan oc#yan x reader#yan blog#yanderecore#yande.re
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How to start your day according to your rising sign.
Your ascendant/first house represents the sign that was rising above the eastern horizon on the moment of your birth. However, within a broader cosmological framework, where houses each represent a different time of the day according to where the sun is, the First House represents the time of the day where the sun had just risen above the horizon. After a bit of experimenting, I have come to the conclusion that the best way to start your day is to align your early morning activities with those associated with your rising sign’s ruling planet. Here I explain how.
· Aries rising: start your day with a stimulating activity, something that gets you fired up and ready to engage with the day ahead. A workout session, a morning run, some stretching, or something as simple as a walk under the sun. Either way, you’d better get moving as soon as you get out of bed. Avoid getting your most challenging tasks of the day done as early as you wake up — rather, start with the simplest tasks and work your way up as a form of motivation.
· Taurus rising: take as much time as you need to get up. You have your entire day ahead of you, so make sure your morning remains a leisurely time — though I advise you to write a list of tasks down to make sure you have a roadmap of your day planned ahead. No matter how busy things get, make sure you at least start your day with a generous breakfast while enjoying your surroundings by eating in a balcony or somewhere you feel cozied up and relaxed. Investing in a morning skin care routine that works for you can only prove to be beneficial.
· Gemini rising: immediately engage in some mental stimulation. read a few chapters of a book, listen to a podcast, read some news, watch a video. Hell, even scrolling through social media wouldn’t hurt. Give your brain some much needed dopamine shots to get it going. If you’re learning a new language, try to memorize a couple words every morning. If you’re a student, try to study a bit right after waking up. If you have some manual tasks planned, get them done first thing in the morning.
· Cancer rising: schedule your morning routine around moon phases & transits. There are certain lunar transits (cardinal signs) or phases (new moon) where I would recommend starting your day with a workout and energy demanding activities, whereas on other transits (fixed signs) or phases (full moon), I would recommend taking things one step at a time, waking up gently, having a warm cup of your favourite drink, taking a bath, cooking, doing some gardening, and enjoying a relaxing morning before starting your day.
· Leo rising: Make sure that each morning is «you» time and let nothing get in the way of that. Soak up some sun light, start your day with positive affirmations, do 10 minutes of dancing, listen to music, meditate, draw a bit. Get yourself in the mood where you feel most confident and yourself, as there’s one watching you — you’re performing for no one but yourself. Self-care can mean many things and you need to find the form that works best for you. If you enjoy doing make up, do a creative look. If you like reading, read. You can even adapt your morning routine according to the sun’s transits.
· Virgo rising: it goes without saying that starting off your day with some journaling, list making, intention setting, tidying your place up and task planning can prove to be globally beneficial for everyone, but even more so for Virgo risings. You need as much mental stimulation as Gemini risings, if only with some added structure to it. Put yourself in the right mood where you can be productive instantly, get your tasks done starting with the most difficult ones so you'll have the rest of entire day for yourself, and remember to take breaks. It’s still early in the morning, after all!
· Libra rising: your mornings set the tone for the rest of your day — so make sure your day starts off on a harmonious note. Create a classical music playlist & play it every morning, have a nice breakfast – a nice drink and your favourite treat, do some pilates, read a couple page of a book you love, set your intentions for the day, do some bird watching, take a walk in a nearby green space or riverside and enjoy the aesthetics of nature & the scenery, choose an elegant outfit and pair it up with some jewelry & a nice perfume. Harmony is a balanced act that can easily be disturbed so make sure you keep your mornings free of external disturbances.
· Scorpio rising: you will benefit from starting your day gradually, & at a very measured pace. Try to weed out the eventuality that unexpected disruptions may arise (as that might disturb your inner balance & emotional state) by establishing firm boundaries and prioritizing activities that bring you joy & contentment. Any activities that promote focus, introspection, and empowerment would be great — namely journaling, meditation, deep breathing exercises to center yourself, or a 30 minutes workout session. If you enjoy writing, write down your feelings in the form of prose or poetry. Lists will also help you stay structured throughout the day & ensure you won’t spend it entirely inside your head.
· Sagittarius rising: start your day by doing some manifestation. Pick a method you prefer, and make sure you spend at least 5 minutes manifesting and setting intentions for the day ahead, as well as some long-term goal you’re working on. If you’re into philosophy, read a few pages of a philosophical book of your choice first thing in the morning. If you enjoy language learning, spend ~30 minutes learning new notions teaching yourself a full lesson. Drawing or making a moodboard can also help you manifest for the day. A morning walk where you take in your surroundings will also help you get into the right mood.
· Capricorn rising: buy a planner, and start your mornings by writing down your to-do list. Make sure you also have a couple pages dedicated to short term projects, and long term projects — try and check out a case from either every so often, every morning. Doing so will fill your mornings with intention as you will feel like you did something great for yourself (and you did indeed). And as is the case with every other cardinal signs — include a physical activity into your mornings. A 15 minutes run, a 30 minutes walk — whatever you deem best.
· Aquarius rising: write down your dreams & ideas fresh out of bed. Your mind comes up with the best scenarios & concepts early in the morning, so write them down — you never know, maybe one day you’ll find the resources, energy or will to expand on one of them. I have noticed that Aquarius risings come in two fixed archetypes, the type that enjoys socializing fresh out of bed and the type that needs 3 business hours before being able to utter a single word to others – so my advice is simple: if you’re the former: start your day with some socialization, text your friends, post on social media, and if you’re the latter: put your headphones on, read something (anything) and block out any and all external noise.
· Pisces rising: the transition from the realm of dreams to the waking world is a tougher challenge to you than most, so try to start your day slowly and gently. No abrupt and aggressive tasks, no strong drinks, no heavy food. Pressure is of 0 benefit to you so do not put yourself in your “awake” mode until you’re about to go outside. If you’re working on an art piece, draw some of it right now. If you’re writing a book, write down a couple lines as soon as you leave bed as your dreams might provide some extra insights & creativity you wouldn't be able to conjure up while awake. If you have plants, water them. If you have a balcony or garden, spend some time there just sitting & doing absolutely nothing.
If you’d like a reading, more details can be found here!
Have a nice day!
#astrology#astro notes#astrological observations#hellenistic astrology#astro observations#astrology signs#astrology readings#zodiac#astrologia#astro community#rising signs
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Hi can u write prompt 18 and 14 🪷 and [comfort] 🌷 with lando? With lando being the one who comforts?? Thank u sm I love u and ur works 💗💗💗💗
౨ৎ sleep darling
﹕─┈ pairings ( Lando norris x female! reader )
°. — summary ( a morning with lando after a restless night )
°. — details ( g; fluff, a pinch of angst? w; none that I know of. wc; 1.5k )
﹕─┈ prompt ~ hugging them tight without saying any words when they're having a hard time + they roll on top of you, cradling your head between their hands as they kiss your nose + a tender kiss to provide comfort or reassurance
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( Tysm for the request lovely & the kind words ! I love you too !!! I had so much fun writing this, it was an amazing request !!! I hope you like it, I tried fitting in the prompts together the best I could !!! Please don’t be a silent reader lovely’s, your thoughts are what keep me motivated to write !!! )
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Restless sighs and tired groans leave your lips as you roll over onto your side, now facing your large window that gives you a perfect view of the sunrise. Your eyes dropped down to the sleepy body next to you, he was laying on his stomach with both of his arms under the soft white pillow, the duvet being pulled up to his shoulders, protecting him from the breeze coming through the cracked open window. He looked so peaceful as he slept, that made you happy.
You missed him, lately he's been busy with getting ready for the start of the new f1 season and even though some days he came home early, you were too busy studying to really spend any time with him. For the past week, the two of you really only spent time together in bed, and most of the time lando was sleeping while you laid wide awake. You barely slept and when you did you woke up in cold sweats from the nightmares that plagued your mind.
The lack of sleep and the intense studying didn't help your mood, but your sweet boyfriend didn't let your mood get to him, he understands. You felt guilty, he was the absolute sweetest and so understanding, sending you sweet texts throughout the day, getting you flowers and ordering you your favorite food; knowing that you most likely forgot to eat. And yet you couldn't even spare the time to spend more time with him.
You watched as he scrunched his nose in annoyance and nuzzled his face deeper into the pillow as the sun shines on his face. You begin to feel restless as you continue to lay down, your mind not shutting off even though you've stayed up for the whole night. By the time you decided to stop studying, it was way past midnight and Lando was already asleep even though he tried to stay up for you.
You felt that guilt creep up and you let out a heavy sigh, you couldn't lay down anymore wasting time. You quietly sit up and move the blankets off your legs and move to get out of bed, but you pause when you hear a tired groan accompanied by your boyfriend's groggy voice “Where are you going?”
“To the bathroom, I'll be right back, go back to sleep baby” you spoke softly so you wouldn't pull him too much out of his sleep as you looked back at him. One of his hands was out from under the pillow as if he was reaching out from you to stop you from leaving, and that's what he intended to do, he was just far to sleep to open his eyes. Lando hummed sleepily “Mmkay hurry back . . . wanna cuddle.”
You leaned down and placed a soft but quick kiss on his forehead, a sleepy smile forming on his lips at the touch of your lips. You quickly leave the bed, knowing that if you stared at him any longer you wouldn't want to leave the bed. You quietly close the bathroom door behind you before turning on the light. You take your time brushing and flossing your teeth and brushing your hair out of your face, you try not to look at yourself for too long in the mirror. You could see that you were exhausted, the past week not only taking a toll on your mental state, but also your physical.
You can imagine Lando becoming impatient with how long you were taking in the bathroom if he hasn't fallen asleep yet, so you quickly finish up in the bathroom and shut off the light as you leave. You looked at your bed and for a second you believed Lando had fallen back asleep from how still he was, but you're proven wrong when he grabs the duvet and pulls it back for you, wanting you to lay next to him. Cute.
You fight the urge of wanting to escape to the living room to study and climb into bed, sliding under the blanket and right next to your sleepy boyfriend. You lay on your side, your hands under your face as you look at a barely awake lando. Lando pulls the blanket up to your shoulders and blinks the sleep out of his eyes, his eyes taking in every inch of your beauty. He could see your exhaustion in your eyes and face, but he thinks you're the prettiest girl ever.
Lando frowns and tucked the blanket under your neck, his thumb softly caressing your chin “You haven't slept.”
You didn't bother trying to lie, one you were too exhausted trying to come up with a good excuse and you also know it was no use too anyway. Lando knew you better than anyone else, sometimes even better than you. You sigh and break your eye contact before whispering “I tried.”
“You should have woken me up, I don't like that you were up alone” Lando continues to frown as he looks at you, feeling guilty because he wasn't up to help you. The thought of you lying awake all night made his heart hurt, he wished you woke him up and he wished he wasn't so tired last night and stayed up. He didn't care if the two of you laid in silence all night in each other's arms, because you would have done it together.
“I wasn't alone, i had you right next to me” you whispered sweetly as you pulled your hand out from under your face and pushed back his messy hair out of his eyes. A grin spreads across Lando's face at your romantic words and a cute giggle leaves his lips as he quickly moves forward, your body moving to lay on your back as he rolls on top of you. He settled comfortably between your legs, cradling your head with a gentle touch, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your nose.
You giggle at the sudden change of position and scrunch your nose at the feeling of his soft lips on your nose, pecking it several times; he knew it made you ticklish. Your hands move up to hold his wrists as you look up into his beautiful eyes, your legs wrapping around his waist under the blanket. He holds your face softly, making sure you keep your eyes on him as he tries his best to make his voice sound stern “I’ll always be with you angel, but you need to rest. you've barely gotten any sleep all week.”��
“I ⸺ “
“I'll help you study later; I promise. Just take a little nap with me . . . please” he quickly cut you off, his tone trailing off to a slight beg. He already knew what you were going to say, telling him how you desperately needed to study and that you couldn't waste any time. But he had full confidence in you, he knew you would do just fine in your exams, you were just psyching yourself out to an extreme.
Lando didn't break eye contact with you as he pulled out his secret weapon that always works on you, a small pout with his puppy dog eyes. You sigh as you look down at his lips, knowing what he was pulling on you and there was no way you could say no to those eyes, and you knew he wasn't going to stop until you agree “Hmm fine.”
Lando grins and kisses your nose one more time as he brings one of your hands down to pat your thigh, you unwrap your legs around his waist and sit up on your elbows as lando drops to your side, your body wanting to reach out for his warmth that you were already missing and craving. Lando lays on his back and opens his arms for you.
You scoot closer to lando and he pulls you into his arms and into a tight but comfortable hug, your head rests in the crook of his neck while you drape your leg over his midsection. Lando slips one of his hands under your shirt and starts rubbing your back, your eyes fluttering close at the soothing and comforting touch. Lando fights back a yawn and places a kiss on the top of your head before whispering, “I’ll be right here the whole time, i got you okay.”
You know what he meant, he wanted to let you know that you were safe in his arms, that you had nothing to fear, that he would protect you from your nightmares. Tears well in your eyes, because of the exhaustion or from the strong feeling of love you felt for him . . . you had a feeling it was the latter. You lean your head back, the movement catching lando’s attention and the two of you lock eyes as you spoke softly “I love you.”
Lando used his free hand that wasn't rubbing your back and gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head up more so he could lean down and take your lips into his for a slow but passionate kiss filled with love and reassurance. The kiss didn't last long but it took both of your breaths away. He slowly pulled away from your intoxicating lips and watched as you laid your head back on his chest, your body melting into his with tiredness. The sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. He whispered breathlessly as his hold on you tightens, his own eyes closing.
“I love you more, now sleep darling.”
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( GAWD I HAVE SUCH A WEAKNESS FOR SWEET BF LANDO 😭 AND CONGRATS ON P3 LAN !!! )
°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @cixrosie @partyinpitlane @ophcelia @toasttt11 )
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Too shy to tell you
miguel o’hara x fem!reader
Miguel hides your heals in hopes of making you forget you ever owned a pair...he confesses about his theft during a hot and heavy night of sex.
Warnings: This might be interpreted as possessive or an unhealthy bond. Though its supposed to be just a very shy and respectful Miguel who let's loose during sex.:]
Authors note: I am not a writer!! This is my first time righting fanfic.. like.. ever!!! So don't attack me. Though honest, constructive criticism is something that I would love to hear. Sorry if there are spelling mistakes. Also, I don't know how to put proper description..... enjoy!!!!
:::
"Miggy?" I call out to my boyfriend who's currently towering over the coffee machine, waiting for it to brew.
"Yes, my love?" He responds with a look over his shoulder.
"Have you seen my black pointed heals? I can't seem to find them."
"No. Have you checked by the door?" He was lying.
He was lying. He was lying, and he didn't feel bad about it. The truth was he had stuffed them in the highest cupboard of the laundry room. He knew you couldn't reach it. He liked it that way. He couldn't let you open it since he had stuffed at least 4 pairs of heals in there.
"No miggy, they aren't here." You say after checking everywhere by the front door.
"Idk what to say, baby... we have to leave soon. Just throw on a different pair and I'll buy you some new ones later."
He was a liar... and he was damn good at it... until he wasn't.
:::
It was 2am. This insanity started hours ago, but Miguel's stamina wouldn't let down. Your soft moans could fuel him till sun rise, and he would love to do this forever. But unlike him, you have limits. Limits to your ability to stay strong, or at least keep yourself up right. But he doesn't really care. Your begs for a break won't succeed with a constantly starving man like him.
"One more round, please baby... please. I need you." His desperate begs caress your tear stained cheeks as he whispers them softly, leaning over you and filling you with sloppy thrust.
"Miguel- please.. It's too much.." You whine as you try to pull away, gripping desperately onto the sheets.
"Last one.... I promise..." he lies.
He said the same thing the last 4 rounds. If he could have it his way he'd continue. But he knew you couldn't keep going for much longer, so he used this opportunity to tell you what he couldn't bring himself to say otherwise.
"I lied..." he confesses. Watching your tits bounce with every rough trust, keeping himself busy while you tried to form a reply. It took you a while, but you managed to let out a soft hum, waiting for him to explain himself further.
"I took them. Your heels.. I fucking hate those things.." he thrust get faster as he says it. Hoping to make your brain foggy enough to not remember his confessions in the morning.
"I like your height, so why do you wear those weird things?" His heart felt lighter as he told you.
"I like that your height forces you to get on your tippy toes every time you want a kiss from me.. and even then, I have to bend over to reach you.... I like that you rely on me to reach those high shelves. Every time you ask me, you grow as red as a rose...."
You can feel his movements speed up. You can barely hear him... your mind fuzzy from pleasure. Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin felt like white noise at this point. The dim shadow of his frame covering you completely.
"You're so small under me.. your body falls any way I bend it..." At his point, he was just speaking the first thing to cross his mind.
You didn't hear him, and he knew it. Seconds later, you feel his weight shift, the mattress by your head sinking under his heavy hand as he leaned in and whispered.
"Please don't take that away from me."
His words were demanding. He felt exactly what he said. Even though your eyes were shut tight, you knew his eyes were locked on you. His breath heavy, as if he just confessed a dirty secret. He kinda did...
"Promise me.... Promise me you won't wear them and I'll help you cum."
As tired as you were. You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. So you give in.
"F-fine... I promise."
"You promise what?" He smirked hearing your whiney voice.
"I promise I won't wear the heels!!"
The pleasure he got from you saying that was immense. He shifted his weight once more as he changed your position like a marionette doll. Spreading your legs apart. His hands wrapped around your thighs, and his claws dug into your skin. The stinging pain of it was a wake-up call, causing you to gasp for air.
This position caused him to go deeper. The sticky mess from your previous rounds was being pushed out of your aching hole. The sound of his hips hitting your ass grew louder with every precise thrust. They got louder and louder until they stopped. Your thighs had clenched closed as you hit that high you were chasing. And you took him with you. Tightening around his pulsing cock in a way that made him fill you to the brim once more.
He watched your body shake. Your hips jerking forward. He would usually take that as his sign to keep going, but your fucked out face was telling him you couldn't take another thrust.
"You did great my love..... my little angel~" He cooed gentle praises as he rubbed your claw marked thighs.
"I'll buy you the cutest flats."
:::
A thing he didn't know.. is that you lied, too. His secret cupboard was emptied, and your heal collection was restored... and yes.. he pouted in silence.
The end
#miguel o'hara x reader#spiderman 2099#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x you#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel o'hara fanfic#miguel o'hara smut#spiderman smut
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I'm an Idiot
Pairing: Luke Castellan x fem!reader
Summary: Luke has a dream about about his best friend y/n that leads to him ignoring her so she doesn't find out his true feelings
Warnings: angst, Luke being an idiot, smut 18+ only please, language, it's a LONG one but it's so worth it I promise
"Shit, Luke," y/n moaned out, her soft breathes fanning against Luke's scarred cheek, "right there."
Luke thrusted himself deeper, groaning out at the sensation and burying his face in the crook of her neck. "God's, y/n, you're so fucking tight."
Luke pushed in slowly once more, burying himself to the hilt. He was going painfully, torturously slow. Luke wanted nothing more than to fuck her senseless until all she could do was scream his name, but not if it meant hurting her so he held himself back from driving into her full force and taking her like he so desperately wanted to.
Y/n knew what he was doing and responded by wrapping her legs around his hips, pulling him in deeper. They gasped simultaneously at the new angle.
"Don't-", he stuttered, "Don't do that." He held her hips down to prevent her from moving again, gripping it so tightly he was sure it would leave a mark and the thought sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. He panted against her sweaty collarbone as he tried to regain his composure.
"You don't like it?" She whispered in his ear seductively, raising her hips up to meet his.
Of course he liked it. He fucking loved it, but it was testing the restraint that he was already in a losing battle with. If she continued to pull him in deeper like that he was sure to snap. Luke could feel her clenching around his cock and fuck it made him want more.
When he didn't answer, y/n leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Stop holding back, Luke. I want you to fuck me."
With a sly smirk, Luke pulled out of her before-
Luke startled slightly as his eyes opened to the early morning sun that filtered through the windows of the cabin. He could hear the birds chirping outside and the slight footfall of other campers making their way to breakfast.
He sighed in frustration and rubbed a hand down his face, only to freeze when he felt a body stirring against him. He slowly lowered his hand, his brown eyes falling to Y/n's sleeping form next to him. She was fully clothed with her back to him as her shoulders rose and fell with each even breath she took.
Luke had one arm wrapped around her waist while the other was trapped beneath her head. Her hair falling over his arm and onto her pillow in a perfect halo. For the daughter of Hades, she sure looked angelic in this moment.
He realized he must have fallen asleep during one of their late-night talks, given that he had woken up in her cabin rather than his own. Luke was honestly thankful for her company. His sleep was typically plagued by never-ending nightmares, but never when he slept with her tucked into his chest.
Noticing that she was still sound asleep, Luke decided to relax and enjoy a few more moments of rest before he would inevitably have to wake her for breakfast and break them out of their comfortable bubble. He closed his eyes and pulled her body closer to his, tucking his face into her hair that smelled faintly of her jasmine and coconut shampoo.
Unconsciously, Y/n snuggled back against him, pressing her body back against his. Her round ass pushed against the bulge in his pants that he hadn't realized had been rapidly growing since he woke from his dream. Luke grunted at the contact and swore under his breath quietly. Nightmares may not be a problem when sleeping with y/n, but for the last few months other dreams had started to become a bit of an issue.
Luke had had a crush on her since the first day she walked into camp four years prior, something Clarisse and Chris never hesitated to poke fun at him about. How could he not? She was gorgeous, funny, and fiercely protective of those she loved.
The two of them had always had a flirty sort of banter that probably went beyond the bounds of friendship, but he never really made a move, of course, fearing his feelings wouldn't be reciprocated and valuing their friendship too much to jeopardize it.
Just like he was about to if she woke up and felt his hard on nestled between her perfect thighs.
It was probably a dick move to leave before she woke up, but Luke would have to come up with an excuse later because there was no way he was going to be able to conceal what the dream of her panting and writhing beneath him had caused.
Ever so carefully, Luke shifted his weight toward the edge of the bed and slowly began to pull his arm out from under her head, freezing when she stirred in her sleep. He swore quietly under his breath and waited until she stopped moving before pulling his arm away from her completely.
He tiptoed his way to the door, the old hardwood floor groaning slightly beneath his weight as he walked. Luke reached the door and turned to take one last look at her sleeping form that was now nestled against the pillow beneath her head, soft snores emitting from her pink lips. He smiled to himself and closed the door quietly, bounding through the camp on his way to take a very cold shower to relieve him of his 'little' problem.
The sound of her front door clicking into place made Y/N stir against her black silk sheets before she woke entirely, noting the now empty bed beside her. She furrowed her brows as she sat up, noticing that Luke's shoes were gone and so was he.
It confused her, to say the least. Luke had never been one to sneak away before she had woken up, usually opting to wake her with whispers that sent tingles down her spine and butterflies to her belly.
Luke had been acting strangely the last few months, but he never hesitated to crawl into bed with her when she complained of insomnia or nightmares. Having him around while she slept had eased what normally plagued her, and she knew it did the same for him. She shrugged lightly to herself, figuring that he had camp counselor duties to attend to, and she would catch up with him later. Still, disappointment settled in her chest at not being able to wake up with his body wrapped around hers.
Y/n was a camp counselor herself, but since she was the only current daughter of Hades, she was more or less in charge of only herself when she wasn't training the younger campers. She rose from bed, tidying the cabin around her before throwing on a pair of spandex shorts and her Camp Half-Blood shirt to get ready for her daily training sessions after breakfast.
She made her way down to the pavilion by herself, basking in the warmth that spread over her tanned skin where the early morning sun broke through the trees. She could hear the rumble of conversation from the other campers who were already sat for breakfast as she drew closer.
Y/n made her way through the breakfast line, her eyes scanning the area for a familiar mop of dark curls as she piled strawberries and pancakes onto her plate. She turned to make her way to her usual spot, noting that Luke hadn't yet made an appearance there, which was odd since he had obviously left before her.
Y/n took her usual seat next to Clarisse, saving the spot to her left for Luke whenever he decided to show, with Chris, Travis, and Connor sitting opposite her.
"Hey," Chris greeted her around his mouth full of pancakes.
"Hey," she replied distractedly, her eyes still scanning the pavilion.
"Who are you looking for?" Clarisse asked, noting her odd behavior and trying to follow her wandering eyes.
"Luke, of course," Travis said with a smirk.
"Who else?" Connor added with a smirk identical to his twin brother's.
Y/n's face flushed a light shade of pink as she resigned herself to pushing the food around on her plate with her fork. She knew that her crush on her best friend was painfully obvious to everyone—well, except for the one person who truly mattered. It wasn't like she really tried to hide it, always saving him a seat on her left at meals and choosing Luke as her sparring partner or simply cuddling up next to him by their nightly campfires.
She was hopelessly in love with her dark-haired best friend, but she never attempted to make a move, fearing rejection or, worse yet, jeopardizing their friendship. Still, Y/N couldn't help but blush when he would wrap his arm around her innocently and tuck her into his side or become flustered when she caught a glimpse of his well-defined abs when he would lift his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow during sparring sessions. Needless to say, she had it bad.
"Hey guys," Percy greeted the small group of friends as he sat to Y/n's left, leaving an empty space for Luke. Annabeth took her seat across from him. "Where's Luke?"
All eyes at the table turned toward her, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "How would I know?" She speared a strawberry on her plate with a bit more force than necessary.
"Oh, I don't know," Chris shrugged his shoulders sarcastically. "Maybe it's because he spends more time in your bed than in his own these days." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, earning a smack to the head from Clarisse and a glare from Y/n.
"Speaking of the lover boy," Connor says, his eyes falling to Luke as he makes his way through the breakfast line.
Y/n tries her best to act nonchalant, fighting the urge to turn and look at him. Instead, she resigns herself to pushing the strawberries around on her plate.
When Luke finally makes his way to their usual table, he pauses, noting the empty spot left for him next to Y/N. He battles with himself silently as his feet carry him closer. He wants to sit next to her more than anything, but just the thought of her leg accidentally brushing his under the table causes his dick to twitch in his cargo pants. There was no way he would be able to hide a boner with this many people around. Normally, he had a bit more self control, but thay dream had really done him in.
He had been fortunate enough not to encounter any other campers on his way to the showers this morning to relieve himself. His hand had been wrapped around his length, stroking himself in a fast rhythm as he imagined y/n lips wrapped around him, quietly moaning out her name as he came in his fist.
Luke quietly groaned to himself as he rounded the table, feeling y/n's piercing eyes on him as he took a seat between Connor and Chris. Everyone at the table froze, forks hovering midair in confusion and disbelief at the strange behavior. Luke didn't even pay them any mind, trying his hardest to avoid your gaze that had sparked with what looked like disappointment, fearing that if he started blushing he would never stop.
"Okay," Clarisse said, drawing out the word and breaking the silence that had fallen over the group. "Cabin Twelve is throwing a party on Friday. Are you guys in?"
"We're always in," the Stoll twins spoke in unison. Y/n thought it was funny when they did it, but Luke always found it disturbing and creepy.
Luke was barely listening to his friends’ discussion as he pushed the food around on his plate. He was trying to avoid looking up, knowing that Y/N was across from him, trying to meet his gaze. He knew she had given up when she let out an almost inaudible sigh, and he suddenly felt guilty. He hated ignoring her, but it physically pained him not to hold her and draw her in for a kiss when she pouted her perfect pink lips at him. It was as if Aphrodite herself was trying to punish him.
"I don't know," Travis shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip from his cup. "I'll probably ask Silena to go with me. What about you?" He looked over at his half-brother, who was still staring down at his untouched food. "Luke?"
"Hmm?" He hummed, breaking out of his thoughts and looking up from his plate for the first time since he sat down.
"Are you bringing anyone to the party?" Travis asked again.
"Oh, um," Luke was at a loss for words. There was only one person he truly wanted to ask, but he knew she wouldn't see it as anything more than friendly. They had attended parties together in the past, but it seemed inappropriate to him now that he had come to the realization that he was in love with Y/N. "I don't really know. I haven't thought about it."
Connor, being Connor, decided to stir the pot a bit. He opened his mouth to say, "What about Laura from Cabin Ten? She has a pretty massive crush on you."
Luke shrugged and finally took a bite of his breakfast, not noticing the way y/n's eyes watched him anxiously. "Yeah, I guess so," he replied, a bit distractedly. It would seem weird if he didn't take anyone, but he couldn't take y/n without torturing himself to the brink of insanity. He still couldn't shake the image of her beneath him or the faint sounds of her breathy moans that echoed in his mind.
Y/n had decided that she had had enough. She slammed her silverware onto her plate, swiping it up, and marched her way over to the fire pit. She threw her offerings into the flames and made her way to her first activity of the day. Tears stung her eyes, and jealousy clawed at her chest as she marched past the table where her friends all sat, looking slightly concerned at her sudden outburst.
Luke's eyes trailed after her, watching her back until she disappeared over the hill. He sighed to himself and ran a hand through his curls. He had thought that if he kept a bit of distance his body and mind would relax a little but he was more tense than ever.
Clarisse kicked him under the table causing him to wince and rub at his now sore shin. "What the hell has gotten into you?" She shouted at him.
"Ouch, what are you talking about?" Luke glared at her as he continued to rub his sore leg.
"I'm talking about y/n," Clarisse said, her brows raising as if what she was getting at was obvious. It was, but Luke didn't want to admit what he was doing was stupid.
"What about her?"
It was Chris's turn to chime in. He turned to his half brother and said, "Since when don't you sit next to her at breakfast, and since when don't you two go to bonfires together?"
Luke groaned in irritation, his face growing hot. The last thing he wanted was for them to pry and find out the real reason he was ignoring his best friend. It was embarrassing the way he was dreaming about her, and jerking off to the thought of it like a fifteen year old who just discovered women exist.
"My world doesn't revolve around y/n." He grumbled.
Percy snorted from his spot across the table. "That's bullshit."
"Language!" Luke, Annabeth, and Clarisse all chastised him at once.
Clarisse turned away from the son of Poseidon and back to Luke. "He's right, though. You two are always flirting with each other, and it's painfully obvious. Do us all a favor and put us out of our misery. This tiptoeing around each other is disgusting."
"What Clar means to say," Chris said, shooting a look at the curly-haired girl who merely shrugged, "is why are you avoiding her? We all know you like her, so why are you holding back?"
"Because he's a chicken shit." Percy chimed in with a smirk.
"PERCY!" They all yelled and the blonde rolled his eyes.
"Oh, come on! I'm thirteen, for crying out loud!" he yelled back, slamming his hands on the table. They all ignored him and went back to their conversation at hand once more.
"All we're saying," Chris said, gathering his plate of offerings and standing up, "is that you two have been riding this line between something and nothing for too long. Man up and ask her to the party." And with that, he threw his offerings into the fire and walked off toward the rock wall.
Sparring practice was a bit more tense than usual that day, and it was obvious to everyone around them. When they had all chosen their partners, Y/n had been quick to ask James from Cabin Ten before Luke could even take a step in her direction. It caused a stir among the other campers who witnessed the out-of-character behavior, leading them all to wonder what had happened between the two counselors.
Usually, she would make her way to his side, joking about trying her best not to mess up his 'pretty face', but today she wasn't really in the mood to joke and be ignored by her best friend.
Luke sat frozen for a few seconds, utterly shocked that she had chosen someone over him. He guessed he deserved it for the way he had acted at breakfast, but it still stung knowing that she was angry with him. So, instead of standing there looking like an idiot, he grabbed Percy by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from where he was attempting to flirt with Annabeth. He left her to pair up with one of her siblings as he dragged Percy to a spot where he had a clear view of Y/n.
They began to spar, and while Luke was the best swordsman the camp had seen in over three hundred years, his head wasn't in it today. Percy disarmed him repeatedly while his eyes wandered over to Y/N. She was currently grabbing a drink of water while James stood at her side, whispering something that made her throw her head back and laugh.
She pulled at the hem of her orange tee, lifting it up to wipe the sweat from her face. Luke's grip tightened on his sword when he saw James's eyes lingering over the tattoo on her right hip. He made to step forward when Percy's hand on his arm made him freeze and look back at the younger boy.
"I don't think that's a good idea. She already seems kind of irritated with you," Percy warned.
Luke scoffed, shaking his head, and walked over to where she was smiling with her hand placed gently on James's bicep. The sight made his blood boil, and he had the overwhelming urge to rip the boy's arm off.
"Hey," Luke said, directing all his attention to his best friend, who, at the moment, wouldn't even glance his way. "Can we talk?" When she continued to ignore him, he lowered his voice more and whispered, "Please?"
Y/n couldn't help herself; she lifted her gaze to his and nearly caved when she saw the pleading look in his eyes. But then she remembered how he had snuck out of her cabin that morning and proceeded to ignore her throughout breakfast. Y/n folded her arms over her chest and put on her best poker face.
"I'm a little busy right now."
"Oh, really?" Luke asked in a patronizing tone, crossing his own arms over his chest. Y/n had to try her best not to glance down at his bulging muscles. "Busy doing what, exactly?"
"Well, if you really want to know," she stepped closer to the blonde on her right, "I was just about to accept James's invitation to the party Friday night."
That was a total lie. Y/n had actually been about to turn the boy down and state that she probably just wouldn't go, but she figured if Luke could go with a date, then so could she. Maybe it would help her let go of her crush on Luke once and for all. She knew she deserved better than waiting around for the boy to come to his senses.
Luke scoffed, his face scrunching up with the action. "You're kidding me, right?"
This made Y/n angry. Luke had no right to be upset over her accepting a date to a party he didn't even want to attend with her.
"So what?" She took an angry step toward the curly-haired boy. "You can talk about asking Laura to the bonfire, but when I accept an offer from someone who's genuinely interested in me—"
Luke interrupted her. "You seriously think this guy," he gestured to James, "is seriously into you? Have you forgotten that he and his siblings sleep with people and then dump them just for entertainment?"
James stepped forward, trying to put himself between Luke and Y/n, something that irked the girl to her core. She didn't need anyone to defend her. "Hey, woah. You don't know shit about me, man, and you don't get to talk to her like that."
Luke's features darkened as he narrowed his eyes at the boy who was just a few inches shorter than him. "Back the fuck up and mind your business. She doesn't need you to be her knight in shining armor."
They were nose-to-nose now, exhibiting the typical dick-measuring contest, and Y/n had had enough. She pushed her way between the feuding boys (yes, boys), placing a hand on each of their chests. While James looked down at her with a smug grin, Luke refused to tear his gaze from the blonde, wanting nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face.
Y/n tried to meet Luke's gaze, but he wasn't backing down. With a heavy sigh, she let her hand drop from his strong chest and backed away, though it physically ached to do so.
"Let's just go, James." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, with James right behind her. Subtly, he flipped Luke off behind his back.
The days leading up to Friday were awkward and tense for Luke, Y/N, and the friends who surrounded them. In the mornings, when Luke arrived for breakfast, Y/N would suddenly be in a rush to get to her lessons. At night, she would lock the windows and doors of her cabin, pretending not to hear Luke knocking and pleading with her to let him in and talk.
By the time Friday rolled around, Luke was absolutely miserable without his best friend, and he was kicking himself for being so stupid. He wouldn't have had any reason to be jealous if he had just come right out and told Y/N that he was in love with her the very day he had realized it himself.
Now, here he was, looking like an absolute idiot, all alone, leaning against a tree with a drink in his hand as he watched his best friend snuggle up next to James by the fire. She was laughing and smiling as he spoke, but never quite like she did when she was with him. Every once in a while, her eyes would catch Luke's, and it made his heart skip a beat in his chest until she would quickly avert her gaze and give her full attention to her date for the night.
"Where's your date?" A voice spoke from his right and he pulled his eyes away from Y/n to see Laura batting her eyelashes up at him.
Luke shrugged and took a long pull from his cup, the liquor burning his throat a bit on the way down. "Didn't bring one."
"That's odd since I overheard that you were going to ask me." Laura licked her pink-painted lips and smiled, placing a hand on his chest. "I was waiting for you to ask, but-"
Luke's attention was pulled away as his eyes landed on Y/n, who was walking away from the party and back toward the cabins. He didn't even give an explanation or say goodbye to the Aphrodite girl as he pushed past her to follow his best friend. He was almost certain he heard her call him an asshole but he really didn't care.
Luke followed behind Y/n all the way to the cabins, unsure if she was aware of his presence. He figured she probably did, since she had the instincts of a goddamn wildcat, but was probably still just ignoring him.
He was a few yards away when he watched her reach her cabin and go inside, and he didn't hesitate to walk up the front steps and knock. Now that everyone was at the party, he could possibly get her to talk to him without an audience.
Nerves settled in his chest as he raised his fist and rapped it against the dark wooden door, waiting on the edge of his figurative seat for her to open the door and face him. Luke listened closely to the shuffling on the other side of the door before he heard a sigh and then the click of a lock. For a moment, he thought that she had locked him out and turned with a heavy heart to make his way back to the Hermes cabin to wallow in his self-pity until her soft voice reached out to him.
"What do you want, Luke?" She sighed heavily as she stood in the doorway, the door partially blocking her chest.
By the way she was attempting to cover her chest, and the way Luke could see her bare shoulder and the strap of her bra, he guessed that she had been in the process of undressing and getting ready for bed. He was trying, and failing, not to let his eyes wander as he made his way back up to her door.
"Can we talk?" Luke asked quietly, his voice and eyes pleading with her to say yes.
She hesitated for a moment before nodding and opening the door for him to step through. He let his eyes wander over the expanse of the cabin that he had seen a million times before in an attempt to give her some semblance of privacy while she found something with which to cover up.
It wasn't until she cleared her throat from behind him that he turned, and his heart stopped in his chest. She stood there with her arms crossed and shoulders tense, now covered in a soft gray sweatshirt. His sweatshirt. She still wore the black jean skirt that she had been wearing at the party, and he saw her top and bra discarded on her dresser, meaning that she was completely bare underneath his sweatshirt. Luke felt his dick twitch in his pants and had to shake the thought from his mind before things got out of hand.
He took a shaky breath and ran a hand through his dark curls before he spoke. "Listen, y/n/n, I'm really sorry about being a complete dick the last few days and for ignoring you. I was just going through some stuff and I didn't want to upset you or lose you as a friend so I thought if I ignored you until I could figure out how to get over it, things would be better."
Y/n didn't say anything as she waited for him to continue.
"It turns out," he took a deep breath, "I can't get over it, and I don't think I want to."
"What are you talking about?" She took a few steps until the distance between them closed, and she cupped his face in her soft hands, forcing him to look at her. "Why would you even think you could lose me as a friend?" Her eyes darted between his, but his were focused solely on her lips.
"Because I don't want to be just friends with you," Luke whispered before he closed the distance between them, his lips grazing hers. "Tell me to stop."
Y/n shook her head and tangled her fingers in his dark curls. "I can't," she said. And then she pulled his lips down to crash against her own.
Luke reacted immediately, his hands falling to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss was messy and uncoordinated, all teeth and tongues as they finally let themselves feel everything they had been holding back. When Luke swept his tongue along her lips, she moaned into his mouth and tugged his curls, eliciting a deep groan from Luke. Eventually, the two ran out of breath and had to pull back, their chests heaving from the lack of oxygen.
"Is this why you've been ignoring me?" she asked against his lips, wanting to taste his mouth on hers again, but not before she got her answer.
Luke smirked and shrugged. "Well, that and I've been having some pretty intense dreams."
Y/n pulled back, brows raised, and Luke's heart dropped for half a second before she smiled up at him through her long lashes. "About?"
Luke tightened his grip on her hips and dragged her closer and she gasped at the feeling of his hard length pressed against her hip. "Mind if I just show you?"
When she nodded, Luke didn't waist a second hoisting her up, her legs instantly snapping around his waist and his hands falling lower to cup her ass. He carried her to her bed, laying her down before kissing her with a bit more coordination than before. He slotted himself between her open thighs, rutting into her gently causing a breathy moan to fall from her perfect lips.
Y/n didn't waste any time ridding him of his shirt, throwing it down to the floor and allowed her hands and eyes to wander down the expanse of his toned chest and abdomen. It wasn't like she had never seen Luke shirtless before, having patched him up more times than she could count, but this seemed more personal like he was willing to let her see and have every part of him.
Luke's own hands wandered up the front of her sweatshirt that she had stolen from him so many months ago, travelling higher and higher until his hand came into contact with her bare breast. He took it in his hand, kneading and squeezing before rolling her soft nipple into a firm peak.
Y/n smirked and dropped her hands to pull the material over her head, growing more confident than ever as she watch Luke swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion. She leaned up ever so slightly and placed a soft kiss against his throat, causing him to groan and drop his head down to lay between her breasts, his soft curls tickling her sternum.
"The feeling is mutual." She whispered into the air between them, kicking herself for not coming up with anything better to say.
Luke lifted his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "'The feeling is mutual'? That's all?"
Y/n rolled her eyes and lifted her hips to push her core against the bulge straining in his pants. "Shut up and fuck me."
"Yes, ma'am." He smirked against her lips before dragging his body off the bed and standing at the edge.
Y/n looked confused before Luke quickly shed his pants, leaving him in just his black boxers, before he grabbed her under her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He kneeled on the floor, ridding her of her skirt and panties in one fluid motion. He nearly let out a moan at the sight of her glistening cunt and used two fingers to swipe through her folds.
"Did I do this?" Luke asked with a smug grin. When she didn't answer, he slapping her ass, making her jolt and throw her head back with a moan. So she likes it rough? Noted. "I asked you a question."
"Yes." She answered breathlessly, her fingers tangling in the sheets with anticipation.
Luke didn't say another word before he brought his tongue down to her weeping cunt and licked a stripe all the way up to her clit with a flat tongue. Luke groaned at the taste before diving back in for more. She tasted so sweet and heavenly and Luke was absolutely certain the next time he had ambrosia, it would taste like her.
Y/n's moans filled the empty air as Luke devoured her like a man starved, dipping his tongue into her hole before moving higher to suck harshly on her swollen clit. Luke moved one of his hands from her thighs to push two fingers into her, noting how tightly she squeezed his fingers. He curled them upwards ever so slightly, feeling her hands fly to his hair instantly and tug harshly. He moaned around her clit, sending vibrations throughout her whole body.
"Shit," y/n moaned as her back arched off the mattress, "Luke, I'm so close."
Luke pulled away from her, fingers still working in and out of her, bringing her closer to the edge by the second. "Let go, baby. Cum for me."
Between his tongue, his fingers, and the fact he had called her baby, y/n let herself go, cumming with Luke's name tumbling from her kiss-bitten lips over and over again. Luke continued to lap at her, enjoying the sweet and tangy taste of her release on his tongue, until she was squirming and all but pushing him away from the overstimulation.
He got the message and sat back on his heels, enjoying the sight of her post-orgasm, hands still fisting the sheets as she watched him lick his fingers clean. He moaned around the digits, teasing her until she physically couldn't take it anymore.
Y/n sat up and grabbed hold of his camp necklace, pulling him to lay between her open legs once more before smashing her lips to his, tasting herself on his tongue. Luke smiled into the kiss when she bit down on his bottom lip and tugged.
"I want you," she spoke against him breathlessly, "to fuck me."
Luke pulled back, placing his hands on either side of her head to support himself. "Who taught you patience?" He joked, but groaned when her hand snaked down to palm him over his boxers.
Luke got the message and decided that he was done teasing her, for now. He shed his boxers quickly and quickly aligned himself with her dripping cunt. He rubbed his tip through her folds, collecting her arousal before looking up at her, searching for any signs of hesitation.
He got his answer when y/n smiled up at him softly and pulled his forehead down to rest against hers. She angled her hips up and his tip slipped in, elicting a moan from the both of them. Luke moved slowly, pushing in deeper, inch by agonizing inch. His breath caught in his throat and his mouth hung open when he was fully seated within her.
"Are you okay?" Luke asked softly.
Y/n nodded and rolled her hips against his, letting him know it was okay to move. Luke captured her lips with his before pulling out and thrusting back into her.
"F-fuck." He groaned against her mouth, thrusting into her again. "You're so fucking tight." He trailed his lips down her jaw, leaving kisses all the way down her neck until he reached the soft spot just behind her ear. He bit down on the soft skin there.
He was going torturously slow and while she loved that he was being so sweet and gentle, there would be time for that later. Right now she just wanted him to take her and fuck her into oblivion. This had been a long time coming and she was done with the soft, hesitant actions.
"Luke." She whimpered against his ear, her breath sending shivers down his spine.
"Hmm?" He groaned, too consumed by the feeling of her heat sucking him in.
"Fuck me harder."
Luke pulled back, not sure he had heard her correctly. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. "What?"
Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist and spoke again. "Fuck. Me. Harder."
Luke didn't need to be told a third time once he was sure he wasn't imagining things. He grabbed her thigh and lifted it higher before driving into her. They both groaned at the new, deeper angle, sweaty chests heaving as they grew accustomed to the overwhelming sensation.
He set a new, harsher, faster pace, grinding his hips into hers to add to her pleasure. Y/n finally got what she wanted as he pounded into her already sensitive cunt. She bit her lip to try and contain her moans and Luke wasn't having it. On the off chance this was a one time thing, he wanted to hear just how good he was making her feel.
Luke pulled her lip from between her teeth, kissing her softly before saying, "Let me hear you. I want everyone in the whole camp to know how good I make you feel, that I'm the only one who can make you feel this good."
He pulled out and angled a particularly harsh thrust into her caused her to moan without a care for anyone that happened to pass by her cabin.
"Fuck, Luke, feels s-so good."
"That's it, baby, let them know who you belong to."
Y/n clenched around him and Luke could feel himself growing closer to the edge, but he would be damned if he didn't bring her to a second orgasm before he let himself go. He leaned back just enough to reach a hand between them, using his two middle fingers to rub at her bundle of nerves.
"Shit, just like that. I'm so close."
Luke would do just about anything to hear y/n praise him like that for the rest of his life. He could die tomorrow and he would be at peace with it now that he had heard the way his name sounded tumbling from his lips and the way her body reacted to his.
"Oh gods, I'm gonna—" with a hoarse cry, y/n reached her peak, clenching around Luke as her nails scratched at his back. She had probably drawn blood, but neither of them could find it in them to care at the moment.
Luke worked her through her orgasm, picking up his own pace as he chased his own high. With a few more calculated thrusts, Luke came with a low groan, biting down on the juncture between her shoulder and neck as he spilled inside her.
With a heavy sigh, Luke rolled off of her, reaching his arms out to pull her sweat soaked body into his. Y/n nuzzled her face into his neck and tangled her legs with his, breathing out a sigh of contentment.
Neither of them said a word until Luke finally caught his breath and asked, "So the feeling is mutual, huh?"
Luke's grin only grew when she slapped him on the chest. "Shut up."
"So if the feeling is so mutual," she glared at him, and he chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender. "Then why did you go to the party with James?"
Y/n sighed. "Well, my best friend, whom I really wanted to go with, was being a total dick."
Luke looked down at her apologetically. "So why didn't you tell him then?" he whispered.
"Because I've been in love with him since we were sixteen, but I didn't want to throw away our friendship in case he didnt like me back." She whispered back, finally laying it all out in the open.
"You know what I think?"
Y/n bit her lip nervously. "What do you think?"
Luke tilted her chin up to look at him, bringing his lips closer to hers as he said, "I think I'm an absolute moron for ever making you think that I don't love you the same way."
#luke castellan#percy jackon and the olympians#luke castellan smut#smut#demigods#x reader#luke x reader#fanfic#imagines
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Next Door Neighbors
Summary: You just wanted peace and quiet and Harry just wanted to jam out in his garage for his birthday. So you decide to confront your new neighbor but things don't go as you planned.
A/N: Here it is! Sorry I didn't get it out earlier but it's here now! Enjoy this little 🎈 Harry Styles Happy Birthday Treat 🎈xoxo
Word Count: 7.8k
Warning: 18+ only, smut
It was the perfect house with the perfect backyard in the perfect neighborhood. You’d hit the jackpot. Your first big girl purchase. A house with a lovely garden, two bedrooms, a lovely little kitchen with the perfect rays of light that shone in through the big windows all morning. And the neighborhood was nice and quiet where you could enjoy your weekends in peace reading to your heart’s content.
It was a huge upgrade from the apartment life you endured for years while you saved up for just this thing. And you’d finally found it. Things seemed to be coming together for you in life finally.
On Friday after you got off work, Zoya called, asking if you wanted to go out with the girls but you politely declined, “I’m just gonna stay in I think. I hope you don’t mind. Maybe next weekend, Zo.”
You had a bottle of wine tucked under your arm as you held your cell phone to your ear on your way to the checkout lane at the little neighborhood market a few blocks from your house. Your new house. The one with your name on the mortgage.
Your plan was to drink a little wine in your cute new backyard and read a book, just taking in the peace of your new place.
You turned on the twinkle lights over your back porch (your dad had helped you put them up into the trees) and sat down in your outdoor lounge chair with a glass of wine and the book you’d been looking forward to reading. The sun had just gone down and you could hear crickets. A perfect Friday night, in your opinion.
That is until you were twenty pages into your book and suddenly the loud racket of what sounded like obnoxiously loud live music playing from next door had you closing your book and standing up to investigate.
The closer you got the more you could hear the unmistakable sound of a live band playing, the pop of a snare drum, the trill of a guitar... You looked over the wood fence into the driveway of your neighbor’s home and couldn’t see much but you saw lights on inside of the garage and the loud ruckus of a homemade instrumental band.
You didn’t want to be one of those neighbors. One of those awful people who complained about everything their neighbors did. But this was ridiculous. It seemed they had no regard for any of the people that lived around them.
Walking back to what was supposed to be your little oasis you sat down and grumped to yourself about how rude some people could be. You’d give them one hour until you went over there and told them in person to lower the noise.
You’d only been living in your little house for a few days and this was your first Friday night. You had really been looking forward to a peaceful night at home. Not even your second glass of wine could calm you down.
You didn’t know why you were so mad about it. In your apartment, you were bombarded with noise from all the neighbors who shared a wall with you and the loud heard of elephants that lived above you.
But this? It was meant to be your sanctuary. Your place of solitude.
But you’d had it. When an hour had passed and you paced around your backyard getting up the nerve to walk over there you huffed and psyched yourself up as you made your way into the front yard of your neighbor’s house and could see three men inside the wide open garage. A drummer pounding away, and two men standing – one with a guitar and another with a bass.
You stepped into the driveway and clutched your cardigan closer to your chest as you appeared at the threshold of the garage and the music abruptly stopped when the tall one with dark curls laid his eyes on you.
“Hi. You’re the new neighbor,” he raised his hand from the neck of the guitar he had slung over his shoulder and smiled.
You instantly no longer were raging with anger when you heard his voice and realized this was the man you’d seen briefly the morning before as he got into his car. You imagined he was attractive but not this attractive. Tattoos along one arm, thick curls, plush pink lips, dimples…
“Uh… yeah. I just moved in next door a few days ago.” You looked behind yourself and back toward the men before continuing, “I was hoping you guys could–“
Your voice was cut off by the clash of a symbol then the hit of a snare before the drummer tapped his sticks together, “We’re in the middle of something here in case you didn’t see.”
“Hey… chill. Don’t be rude man,” the curly-headed man with the guitar shot a look at the drummer before looking back at you, “What were you saying? Sorry.”
You shifted on your feet, “I was wondering if you guys could keep it down. It’s so loud and it’s all I can hear while I’m trying to read.”
The guy with the bass guitar spoke, “Oh come on, lady. We hardly ever get to do this.”
Your neighbor began removing his guitar, lifting the strap over his head as he looked at the other two, “Let’s call it a night guys. That’s enough.”
The other two began to grumble as they packed away their things and your neighbor stepped out of the garage in front of you with his hand held out to you, “I’m Harry.”
You smiled and placed your palm against his, “Y/n.”
The drummer came up beside Harry, “Today’s his birthday you know. The only thing he wanted today was to jam out for a bit.”
Your eyes widened as you looked at Harry, “Oh. I didn’t know. I’m sorry… you–“
“Don’t worry about it. We had a good hour. I’m beat anyway. Long week at work.”
The bassist gave Harry a side hug, “I’m gonna head home. See you later, okay? Happy birthday, dude.”
“Oh. I should leave. I’m really sorry again,” you waved as you began to back away.
But Harry stepped in toward you, “Stick around for a minute okay?”
The drummer followed suit, bidding Harry a happy birthday and then getting into his car to drive away as you stood awkwardly at the edge of the garage until it was just you and Harry.
“I’m sorry. I feel really bad that they left. And it’s your birthday too? I’ll… do you want a bottle of wine or something? Let me grab you a bottle as a gift and an apology…”
Harry grinned at you and shook his head, “Mind if I come with you? I’d love to see the inside of the house. Never got the chance to see it before. That can be your birthday gift to me.”
You noted the smirk on his face, his confident posture, and then you realized he had crystalline green eyes. Something in the way he was looking at you gave you those ridiculous butterflies in your tummy.
“Yeah. Of course, Harry.” You turned and he followed behind you as you led him into your backyard, closing the gate behind yourself.
“This is the backyard. I’m gonna put in some flowers over there,” you pointed, “And maybe do something with the porch at some point.”
Harry looked around the backyard briefly before he put his gaze back on you as you opened up your door to let him inside. You were sure you were insane to be letting your neighbor, whom you did not know, into our house with you alone at night, but you only live once, isn’t that what they say?
“Kitchen,” you gestured your hand and then moved through into the living room where Harry trailed behind you and looked around.
“It’s nice. I like how big the windows are. Always was jealous of how big they are compared to mine.”
You looked up at him and smiled, “It’s one of the reasons I bought the place. The window in the kitchen overlooking the backyard kind of sealed the deal for me. Lots of great light comes in for most of the day.”
“I bet it does,” he kept his eyes on you and your tummy was still fluttering about.
“Over here is the bedroom,” you flipped on the switch, “It’s got its own full bathroom. Tiny but I like it.” You turned to move down the hall and flipped on the switch to the hallway bathroom, “Another bathroom, here,” and then moved to the final door, pushing it open to an empty room, “And at some point, I’ll furnish this. It’ll be like an office, guest room sort of thing.”
You turned off the light and looked back at Harry who was standing right behind you.
“Thank you, for showing me around.”
You felt your face warm up as you looked at him. You liked how he said your name. Liked how his lips moved around his words when he spoke.
“Of course. Um… do you want any wine? I was a glass and a half into a bottle if you want to finish it with me?”
That was an easy yes from Harry. You brought your glass in from outside and pulled out a clean one for your neighbor before pouring a bit of the burgundy liquid inside for him.
“Happy birthday, Harry,” you held your glass out to him and he tapped the edge of his glass to yours, “Sorry that I ruined it, though. I kind of feel awful.”
Harry shook his head, “Don’t be sorry. Like I said, it was a long week at work and we had a good hour anyway. Plus this is nice. Getting to know my neighbor,” he took a sip of his wine.
“How old are you today?” You took a sip of your wine as you watched him.
“30,” he sighed, “Grown adult officially.” He smiled.
You laughed at his remark and nodded, “Yes, 30 marks the official entry into adulthood. That’s my belief as well.”
You really liked Harry. He was easy to talk to and you decided he made you feel very comfortable.
“So, you’re a musician?” You raised your brows.
He shook his head and chuckled, “Well, I like to sing and play instruments. I’m not really great or anything. Just a hobby. Used to be in a band in college but then I realized I had to get a real job and figure out how to pay my bills and get along in life.”
You leaned your bottom into your kitchen counter and smiled at him, “Oh yeah. I know all about that. Would be nice if we could make good money just doing our hobbies so we didn’t have to get real jobs,” you laughed, “What do you do for work?”
“I’m an electrical contractor. Have a small business with three employees. It’s hard work but it pays well. Most of the time.”
You smiled. He continued to get more attractive the more he talked and the more you learned. It didn’t hurt that you could tell he was in incredibly great shape as well. He was tall, his shoulders were broad and his shirt stretched tightly over the lats at his back and hung loosely where his waist was, indicating a nice healthy build and upper body strength. His arms were lean muscle and even his thighs filled out the tops of his jeans so you understood it wasn’t just his upper body that was well-muscled.
You heard Harry chuckle as you darted your eyes back up to his. You’d been caught checking him out. You hadn’t meant to let your eyes scrape down his frame but… well. Here you were.
“And what do you do, Y/n?”
Harry kept his sight on you as he sipped from his glass. His sultry gaze was doing things to your hormones and making your heart pump a little harder behind your ribcage.
“I’m the general manager at SpendCo,” you laughed and shrugged, “Not a fancy job but I like it. Good benefits. Was able to save up for this place,” you gestured your hand around the kitchen.
“My job’s not fancy either,” Harry laughed, “But yeah. It’s steady work. A good paycheck.”
You nodded. You could relate in some ways. You’d gone to school for business but wound up working your way up from the bottom at SpendCo. When you started you were making just over minimum wage as a cashier, but now you worked in the office, Monday through Friday (no more weekends for you) and had shift managers and employees working under you. It felt good to be the boss.
“Wanna sit in the living room? Couch is brand new. In fact, I’ve hardly even had the chance to sit in it myself.”
“Yeah. Let’s break that couch in, Y/n,” Harry grinned as he nudged you with his shoulder.
Oh?
You laughed at his comment but decided to not take it the way you imagined he meant. Of course, he obviously meant just sitting on it and breaking it in that way. Certainly, there were no innuendos behind his words.
You didn’t have a proper coffee table yet so you pulled an empty bin with a lid to the front of the couch, “We’ll use this to put our glasses on. Still not done decorating or buying things I need, as you can tell.”
Harry sat his glass down on the plastic lid of the bin and pointed at your stereo setup next to the TV, “Can I put on some music?”
“Yeah, sure,” you smiled as you took another sip of your wine and watched your handsome neighbor get up and turn on your stereo and speakers. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and searched for the Bluetooth to connect and a song began to play over your speakers.
“Like Chris Isaak?” Harry asked as he sat down on the couch, right next to you, his knee knocking into yours.
“Yeah… I think. I’ve heard this song before anyway,” you smiled as you looked down at your thighs.
Harry leaned his back into the cushion and you felt him shifting next to you, his arm propped up on the back of the seat behind you.
“So where did you live before you moved in here?”
You turned your head to look at him before placing your eyes safely on the plastic bin, “In an apartment over in Roger’s Park. Nice little neighborhood. But I hated living in an apartment. Lugging groceries up three flights of stairs every time I went shopping. I mean I got used to it but still…” you laughed.
“Oh yeah. I know what you mean. I used to live in an apartment too. Actually also in Roger’s Park… but that was like five years ago.”
You peeked at him with your brows raised, “Yeah? You lived in Roger’s Park too? What area?”
“Off Grand near the big bus terminal.”
“Wait. For real? At Sheraton Oaks?”
Harry furrowed his brows and squinted, “Yes. Shit. Is that where you lived?”
“It is. 3rd floor. Apartment 10.”
Harry turned his body toward you, his thigh flush against yours, “No fucking way, Y/n. I lived in apartment 10,” he pointed his thumb at himself with a wide surprised grin on his face.
You shook your head and looked at him in disbelief, “That’s wild. How funny that two people who used to live in the same apartment at different times became next-door neighbors. What are the chances?”
Harry laughed, “Seems quite unlikely in such a big city.”
You and Harry sat facing one another in amazement as a new song came on.
“You okay?” Harry’s pupils ran over your features and you saw him looking at your lips as he poked his tongue out to wet his own.
“Yeah. Why?”
Harry softly smiled as he lifted his hand to your face and you felt the pad of his thumb press into your cheek, “You’re biting the inside of your cheeks. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t nervous or something.”
You puffed out a laugh and shook your head, “No. I’m not nervous. Sometimes I chew on the inside of my cheeks. Bad habit.”
Harry nodded shallowly with his eyes on you but he didn’t respond. Instead, he reached for his glass and took a sip of wine.
“So… um…” you glanced at him and shot your eyes to his hand that held the stem of the glass. His hands were nice and big and you noticed he had his nails painted, alternating blue and yellow.
“So, um… What? What were you gonna say?”
You gulped and forced yourself to look into his eyes. He was so handsome and you were beginning to get hot all over. He was too close (not that that was a bad thing), his thigh was solid against yours, and his eyes were drawing something out of you. He was alluring.
“I don’t…” you shook your head, “Forgot what I was gonna say.”
Harry pulled his lips into his mouth, a muted grin on his face as you watched dimples carve into his cheeks. Like he knew what you were thinking.
“I like this sweater,” he gestured toward your cardigan and you looked down at it. It was knitted with a cat playing with a ball of yarn on the left side.
“My aunt bought it for me for Christmas last year,” you smiled and as you brought your eyes up you noticed he was wearing a necklace but you couldn’t see the whole thing as it was tucked under his t-shirt.
He pulled at a button on your cardigan and cocked his head as he looked at you, “Are you sure you’re okay, Y/n? Do you want me to leave?”
Your eyes widened, “Oh no. This is nice. I… I’m okay. Honestly.”
“Okay. You just seem a little frazzled. Want to make sure I’m not doing anything that’s making you uncomfortable.”
You shook your head, “No. You’re great. You haven’t done anything to make me uncomfortable.” You bit your bottom lip into your mouth and tried to give off an air of calm and confidence like Harry was but he was something else. He was so incredibly attractive and the eye contact was making you slowly melt. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what it would be like to kiss him.
He grinned, one side of his mouth pulling upward, “I see.”
You watched as he took a deep breath and placed his wine glass back down before looking back into your eyes, “So, um… can I ask you a personal question?”
You nodded, “Yeah. Sure.”
“Do you have a boyfriend or…?”
Your brows raised upward, “Oh. Uh, no. No boyfriend,” you put your hands into your lap and fiddled with your fingers, “And, uh… you? Significant other?”
A breathy laugh fell from his chest as he shook his head, “Nope.” He popped the p as he responded.
You nodded and looked down at the hand that he’d placed over his thigh. His pinky was pressed into your leg. You were sure he was giving you some kind of signal. All the signs were there. His body language, eye contact, asking you about a boyfriend, and the nearness of him… He was so close you could smell the soap he used.
“Mmm…” you racked your brain to think of anything to say, “How long have you lived here?”
He licked his lips again, “Five years. Moved out of Sheraton Oaks and then bought the house next door.”
You smiled, “So that means I moved in right after you moved out.”
Harry slowly moved his hand further toward your leg and you felt his pinky and ring finger press into your leggings before subtly bending his pinky finger out to rub the fabric under his digit, “Sounds like we have a lot in common.”
“Yeah. Guess so,” you gave him a weak smile and looked down at his hand.
“Am I overstepping?”
You shook your head and looked up at him.
“No? What about if I kissed you? Is that too much?”
Your breath caught in your lungs as you kept your eyes pinned to his and shook your head again.
“No, it’s not too much? Or no you don’t want me to kiss you?”
You swallowed and your heart bounced around in your chest so wildly you could almost hear it, “No, it’s not too much.”
The smile on Harry’s face was soft as he looked from your eyes to your mouth, “It’s okay then? You don’t mind the birthday boy stealing a kiss from his cute neighbor?”
That pulled a laugh from you just as he hoped it would, “I’d like that I think.”
Harry slid his free hand up to the side of your neck, his thumb at the base of your jaw close to your ear, “Last chance to say no.”
You laughed again and placed your palm over the top of his hand that had fully moved over your thigh, “Kiss me.”
The slow movement of his face toward yours, the nudge of his nose to your skin, hot puffs of breath spreading over your cheek, soft lips brushing against the edge of your mouth, before he finally pressed his smooth pink lips against yours was alchemic. Something about him, about the way he handled himself and spoke to you and devoured you with his eyes… But with his mouth against yours, his thumb softly rubbing at your jaw, and his hand moving to fit his fingers between yours as he kept it pressed over your thigh you felt electrified.
And he tasted like mint and smelled like soap and his lips were smooth and moist against yours. Your Friday night had already turned out far better than you imagined it would.
Yeah. Making out on your new couch in your new house with your new neighbor was way better.
You slid the palm of your free hand up his shoulder and to the nape of his neck as his own grip on the side of your neck and jaw tightened the slightest.
But your mind was on his mouth. The heat coming from his touch. The way his tongue slid through your lips to beckon them open…
Harry pulled at your hand and urged you toward his lap. Parting your legs you sat down over the spread of his thighs, settling yourself as close to him as possible.
He slid his hands up your thighs and you felt ravenous. It was as if sitting in his lap made it so much more real. He was moving things along and you were keeping pace.
You pressed your tongue against his and softly rocked your hips down. As your pelvis tilted against Harry, he moaned into your mouth and it was the hottest thing you’d ever heard.
“Fuck. You still good?” He parted from the kiss, keeping his nose bumped against yours.
You breathed out a yes as you nodded and when you lifted your face your lips brushed against his and it started all over again. Lips smothered over lips and tongues wetly dragging against tongues.
Harry’s hands inched up to your hips and you pressed your fingers into the back of his neck, feeling his pulse, steady and strong under your skin.
He lapped over your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth and then dropped his cushiony lips down to your jaw, peppering damp kisses under the space of your chin and over your neck.
You loved having your neck kissed. Not just loved it… you craved it. The feel of a man’s breath and mouth and tongue and nose against your pulse point and the delicate skin that wrapped over blood pumping through your arteries had your skin tingling.
Another rock of your hips down and you felt the obvious swell of something growing under his jeans. He hissed and you backed away from his mouth, not knowing if his sharp inhale was from pain or if he liked the slide of the fabric over your crotch pressing against him.
When you looked at his eyes he was a different man. His pupils had widened and his plush pink lips were wet and parted, nostrils taking in air heavily as you felt his fingers dig into your hips.
“Did I hurt you?” You brought one of your hands toward his jaw feeling the light scruff along the bone under your knuckles.
He shook his head, “No. Not at all. But I do need to reposition.”
You looked down between your bodies and moved back on his thighs to give him space but before your brain could connect to your motions you were reaching down for his button to unpluck from the thick jean fabric. He gently lifted his hips as you unzipped his pants and then you looked at him as you pushed the bottom hem of his shirt upward over the band of his underwear.
“You wanna help?” He spoke breathily as you nodded and pulled the elastic away from his skin with one hand and used the other to reach under the fabric. It was sparse hair and skin and then and then denser hair and warmth until you felt him tucked awkwardly to the side against his pelvis.
The small coo that fell from your mouth was involuntary as you wrapped your hand around him. Hot and thick in your hand. He inhaled sharply again when he felt your palm on his cock as you helped guide him upright.
Your breath was unsteady and shallow as you kept your eyes on Harry’s, “God, Harry.”
“What?” His teasing smirk gave away that he knew what. He knew his cock was big and watching your reaction to that was pleasing.
You gulped and peeked down at it, your hand still holding the fabric away from his hips. A swollen, smooth ruddy colored tip that matched the pink of his lips. The length of which pushed out from the top of the band and sat perfectly in between two fern tattoos at his hips along the bare part of his skin.
“It’s…” you looked back up at him, “It’s nice.”
Harry breathed out a laugh, “Nice? Why thank you.” He grinned.
But then you felt his fingers slide under your t-shirt, pushing the fabric up slowly until his skin was pressed into your sides. It felt like he was urging you to remove your shirt so you did. Pulling your cardigan off first you let it fall to the floor at Harry’s feet before you peeled your t-shirt off.
Harry was surprised to see you weren’t wearing a bra. It had been easy enough to hide under the knitted sweater you figured, so you never put a bra on when you went to confront him earlier. And of course, you weren’t wearing one. It was meant to be a quiet Friday night in. There had been no need.
He pushed his hands up your sides until his fingers were wrapped around your ribs with his thumbs pressing into the soft plump underside of your tits.
You watched him take you in. Your nipples were straining and goosebumps littered your flesh as he ghosted his thumbs along the sensitive tissue.
It felt like so much. You had never done anything remotely sexual with someone you didn’t know. But Harry was hot and you were turned on. So much so that you could feel the dampness in your panties.
You reached back to his chest, pulling at his shirt. You wanted to see more. Wanted to know what he looked like underneath it all. You knew he was fit. And you were positive there were more tattoos hidden away under the material of his shirt.
With his eyes on yours, he moved his hands away from your breasts and pulled his shirt off, taking the back and bringing it over his head at the front. You got a glimpse of the necklace he wore. A white gold cross that slapped against his chest when it caught on the fabric of his shirt as he removed it.
You had been right. His body was defined and strong. Bulky muscular pecs and toned abs. Inked skin from his clavicle to the butterfly under his pectorals and down to the ferns, where his cock poked out of the top of his underwear.
Pressing your palms over his pecs you smoothed your hands down over his nipples and to the butterfly tattoo underneath.
Harry put his hands on your hips again while you admired his torso and you felt his fingers dip under the waistband of your dark-colored tights. Another signal. A question seeking approval for more.
Drawing your eyes up to his you put your hands over his fingers and pushed the material down with him.
Of course, sitting in his lap hindered too much movement but he understood your hint as he pushed you up by your hips and you found yourself being moved off of his lap to your back on the couch.
“Still good, Y/n?” He looked at you with those dark pupils, an air of respectful authority. He made your skin boil.
You nodded, “I’m good.”
Harry began to pull at the stretchy fabric, bringing it down your hips and over your thighs til your knees were free and then he lifted your legs so he could get the leggings off your feet.
When your pants were on the floor, he still had your legs held upward, one hand at the back of your ankles and you peered down at him indulging in the sight of your skin at the back of your thighs and down to your bottom covered in your panties.
You saw a grin on his face as he brought your legs down before he stood up and pulled his jeans off his legs.
His body was so strong and masculine. He could easily dominate you, the thought briefly crossed your mind as you watched the muscles in his arms flex, his abs clench, and the sinew on his powerful-looking thighs bulge as he steadied himself one leg at a time until his jeans were off and he was only clad in his underwear with dark inky designs on his skin and even on his thigh.
He kneed himself down onto the couch, hovering over you as you naturally spread your legs to allow him space between your thighs.
And the feel of his hard shaft pressing over your mound before his lips dropped down to yours once again had you dazed. It almost didn’t feel real.
“So fucking hot, Y/n…” he whispered against your lips, “Made me so hard.”
You gasped when he rocked himself down over you, fabric rubbing against fabric until your arousal had seeped through your panties and began wetting his underwear.
He moaned and parted from this kiss, “You’re all wet.” He slid himself upward and then back with a grin. “You like that?”
You nodded with a moan.
“Yeah? What else do you want, Y/n? Hm? Want to get rid of these panties?”
You moved your shaky hands down your hips and pushed at the fabric to bring them down. All you wanted was him. Your hormones were screaming at you and all you could think about was his big cock and how it would feel sliding inside of you.
Harry laughed at how enthusiastic you seemed and moved back to help you remove your panties, “Okay. We can get these off. Mind if I lose my underwear too?”
You sat up and reached for the band of his briefs as he began to push them down until he was completely bare before you.
His cock hung heavy outward, pointing toward you, like it was beckoning to be touched so you did, reaching for him and taking your palm from his tip to his base until your hand hit the dark thatch of hair and then pulled back up to his smooth head.
“I want it. Want to feel it, Harry.” You looked at him as you pumped him again.
He groaned as he watched your small hand move along his length.
“Do you have a condom?”
You swallowed and paused your motions. You definitely did not have a condom. Which was quite unfortunate because that could only mean sex was not going to happen unless he had one and was willing to go to his house to get it.
Shaking your head no you frowned.
Harry licked his lips and trailed his eyes over your tits and down your tummy, “S’okay. Plenty of other ways to have fun.”
You whined as you looked down at your hand. You had really wanted to feel that big thing wrecking your insides.
Harry took your chin and tilted your face to look up at him, “What’s wrong?”
You inhaled and let go of his pretty dick, “I wanted to feel you so bad.”
He pressed his mouth against yours, soft reassuring kisses had your heart strumming in your chest.
“Well I would hate to disappoint you,” he grinned, “Want to go to mine? I’ve got condoms. We’ll just have to put some clothes back on.”
You nodded and pushed yourself up, quickly pulling your cardigan on and slipping your leggings back up your legs.
Harry liked how desperate you seemed. That was quite the ego boost. He put his shirt back on and pulled his jeans up but left the zipper down as he clutched the fabric to keep it up.
“Guess that’s good enough for breaking your couch in, yeah?”
You laughed and nodded, “Was a good first use for it I think.”
Harry laughed as he took your hand and you two made your way out your front door to his, hurrying over grass under bare feet and small chuckles until you were in the safety and privacy of his living room. He kept your hand in his until he got to his bedroom where he pulled his shirt off and you followed suit, ridding yourself of the annoying clothing you’d had to put back on.
But you knew it was going to be worth it.
Harry dug into his bedside table for a condom and laid it on top of the wood before looking back at you, “You still want this?”
You nodded and climbed onto his bed. The tunnel vision you had was keeping your mind from wandering too far off course as you watched Harry stroke his cock, long pulls up and down to his base as he crawled after you onto his bed.
You easily opened up your legs for him to fit his hips between and felt his warm cock slipping through your folds, rubbing against your clit.
“So slippery, Y/n.” You knew you were as he drove himself over your labia, smoothing his cock against your arousal back and forth.
A shaky moan fell from your throat and Harry grinned as he smeared his lips against your mouth.
He worked himself up and down, wetting the outside of his cock and his tip as he inched through your pussylips smoothly.
You loved his mouth. Loved how he kissed you. It was raw and felt like he gave a damn. Felt like he was enjoying your mouth just as much as you enjoyed his.
Finally, he pushed himself back and reached for his condom looking at you, “Do want anything else first? Or do just want my cock?”
You looked down at his hard dick with your arousal spread all over him and it was all you wanted.
“I want your cock,” your words were breathy as you looked up into his eyes.
“Yeah? A greedy little thing aren’t you?” Harry began to pull the condom over his shaft, pinching the tip as he dragged the rubber down as far as it would reach before settling himself back against your hips, pushing your thighs back slightly, “So desperate for it,” he nudged his cock down against your pussy and then slid it up to your clit teasingly, “Couldn’t wait to have me inside you. Insisted on it even,” he grinned as he tormented you with his wide girth slipping back and forth against your cunt.
You tilted your hips up and groaned, trying to get him to push inside but he continued his taunting movements, “Now, now… so impatient. I’ll give you what you want soon enough sweetheart. But today’s my birthday so I get to control the pace. Don’t want you getting all bossy with me.”
You moaned and slid your hands over his shoulders as you rolled your hips upward again, kissing his slit with your entrance but this time he placed a hand over your thigh and held you in place, “Is it that bad, Y/n?”
You nodded, “Please, Harry.”
“Mmm… love a well-mannered lady. You gonna be good for me?”
You sighed and you would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t so horny, so out of your mind desperate, “I’m gonna be good. Please.”
“Yeah? Cause once I slide inside of you there’s no turning back.”
You gripped his shoulders tight and groaned, “Please.”
The feel of his warm, heavy cock smeared against your clit was almost too much. In fact, you could probably come from that alone if given enough time.
“So sweet for me, Y/n,” Harry took the thigh he’d been holding down and brought your leg over his low back, smoothing his hand over your skin as he positioned himself at your entrance.
The moment you felt him pressing his bulbous head through your slick muscle you dropped your mouth open and moaned but then his mouth caught yours and the noises you were making became muffled as he moved his lips against your mouth.
You knew he was going to split you in half. The slow glide of his cock inside your warm walls was intense. Inch by inch he pushed in as his lips were wrapped around yours.
Holding onto his lats you lifted your hips against his as he slid back and then buried himself into the hilt. You gasped into his mouth at the ache of him nudging into your guts and then pulling back to his tip only to slide himself back in. Working you open slowly, he continued to drive into your cunt with gushy wet noises coming from your pussy as he stretched you open.
You appreciated him plunging in slowly and easing you into fitting around his cock properly. You liked the warmup but more than that, you needed him to destroy your pussy.
When he felt you bucking upward into him he parted his mouth from yours and sat back with his knees bent. You saw him watching the space where he was connected with your cunt as he continued rolling into you.
His abs were flexing as he steadied himself in and out. You gasped when he began to fuck into you a little faster, his cock sliding through your walls and bumping into all the slick bits on your insides.
A gurgled moan fell from your lips as he smacked his hips into yours. The patting of his balls against your ass came out in wet thuds. Your tits bounced with every long stroke into your tummy and he was panting as he let his eyes scan over your body and up to your pretty face.
“Taking me so well, Y/n. Making me leak into my condom already, pussy’s so good.”
You both moaned as he drove into you, his mattress under you giving way to the force of his thrusts.
“Feels so good, Harry…” you panted.
“Yeah?” He bucked inward and ground against you, swiveling his hips and you gasped at the deep press into your cervix.
His fingers were pinching into your thighs as he stuffed himself in and you gripped his forearms for leverage and lifted your neck to watch as his cock disappeared into your body over and over again.
His shaft was coated with your shiny arousal as he slid in and out, your pussy gripping around his skin perfectly.
Harry’s moans were growing louder as he continued fucking into you wetly, hips slamming against yours making his balls strike into your ass.
His thighs were flexing as he rocked against you while your body was shivering and feeling the bliss of getting an itch scratched that you’d been needing.
You felt his right hand release your thigh and then watched him press his thumb over your slippery clit.
You let out a pathetic cry of relief when he smoothed the pad of his digit in circles on your bud, “Yes! Oh god!”
Harry coughed out a moan as he watched your face twist up, “That feel good, Y/n?”
You focused your sight on his eyes and nodded, “Yes…”
The grin on his face could have been akin to something cocky but your brain was mush as you let him wreck you with deep strokes into your tummy, wet and sloppy, dripping arousal down your ass.
The springs in his mattress were bouncing in time with his thrusts and the wooden frame on his bed creaked when he jerked his hips forward into you.
“Just like that, huh? Pussy needed fucked, yeah?” Harry’s words were coming out tight and shaky. You could hear it in his voice how good it felt for him too.
He pressed down and moved his thumb deliciously over your puffy clit as his cock punched into your organs and tissue making you throw your head back and close your eyes arching your back upward.
Harry loved the sight; your sloppy wet pussy spreading apart for his cock as you arched your back like the sexy thing you were, soft tits swaying every time he buried himself in balls deep, lips parted, neck long and stretched out as you breathily moaned his name, “Hh… Harry…”
He could watch you like this all night. Stretches of skin covered in goosebumps as if you were cold, hard nipples at the center of your wobbly squeezable tits, soft tummy clenching, and wet pussy ruined and clenching around him.
The way he was smushing and circling his thumb over your clit had your head fuzzy and your heart racing. But then he leaned over you and pressed his other hand over your low tummy as he fucked into you, pushing against your insides and making the space he was invading with his cock feel tighter as he slid upward and nudged into your guts.
“Gahhh…” you let out a gasped moan when his hand pressed into your stomach.
“Does that feel good, Y/n?” Harry’s eyes were on yours as he drove himself into you.
You nodded and scrunched your brows upward when your insides began to twist with your pussy stretching around him indulgently.
Your legs began to quiver from the strain of your muscles as you felt your orgasm nearing. Everything he was doing to you set your body alight. You reached for his strong biceps and dug your fingers in tight gasping at the depth of him.
“Be good for me, honey… there you go,” he spoke through clenched teeth, holding back his release, “Right there, huh? Feels good like that?”
You whimpered with a nod as you pinned your eyes to his. The expression on his face was lusty and filled with need as he dipped into you, pasting his hips against yours now, only fucking inward, pressing solidly against your insides.
You cried out when you felt the small burst and snap of your orgasm and he quickly moved his hands from your tummy and clit, leaning his hips against yours before pressing his palms into the mattress on either side of your shoulders and angling his body so he could pound into you and fuck you through your orgasm. The way his pelvis smushed against your clit, hips grinding against you as he pulled back and then forced his way through your opening to bury himself deep inside sent you over the edge.
You clung to his shoulders as you spasmed around his fat cock, slipping deep inside of you with a wet squelch as he reared back to his tip before rutting into the hilt.
Your vision and hearing grew muted as you came so you couldn’t hear him clearly when he babbled off nonsense, “Shit! Squeezing the fuck out of me, honey! Oh my god, that feels good. So fucking hot. Gonna make me come so hard…”
Harry’s hips struck against you repeatedly until his balls constricted and tightened and then he was pumping into his condom, his muscles stiffening with his hips pressed into yours, mashing your body into the mattress underneath you.
He choked out a moan as his cock spurted his release, throbbing and twitching inside of you as you panted at how hard he’d come. The front of his thighs were pressed into the back of yours, holding you down with his hips as he drained every drop of his come into his condom.
Then it was silent. The sound of sex and moaning was quieted and the bed was no longer creaking and thumping.
Harry pressed his chest against your tits and you felt his plushy lips on yours again and you sighed against his mouth. Slowly your ears stopped ringing and you smoothed your hands up his strong back.
He pushed his face into your neck and his warm breath dampened your skin, “Happy fucking birthday to me,” he laughed.
You grinned with a tiny giggle and opened your eyes before running your fingers into his thick curls.
When he’d pushed himself up to look down at you, you couldn’t get over how adorably handsome your neighbor was. He was sexy as hell and yet so cute at the same time.
“You all right?” His raspy voice was quiet as he searched your face and brought a hand up to your temple, his thumb drawing over your skin.
The grin on your face should have told him as much as you nodded, “Very much all right.” You puffed out a laugh.
He laughed with you and smiled widely, dimples appearing in his cheeks, “Well, welcome to the neighborhood, Y/n.”
Raising a hand up to his jaw you nodded, a cheeky grin still stretched over your mouth, “And happy birthday to you, Harry.”
Part 2
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You're a Liar
𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋᴇʟᴇᴛᴏɴꜱ ɪɴ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ' ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴛ.
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ / ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ꜱɴᴏᴡ (ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ʙᴀᴅ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ)
ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ꜱᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ. ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴛᴅ ꜱᴏ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴅᴀᴇᴍᴏɴ/ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ ʙʀᴀɪɴ ʀᴏᴛ.
Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. The way the sun just barely peaked through the curtains and shimmered its way across the bedspread made your shared room with Coriolanus look simply divine.
Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. The delicious scent of bacon and freshly cooked pancakes wafted through the mansion and under your closed door. The promise of fresh orange juice and perfectly hot coffee was enough to rouse anyone from their slumber.
Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. Coriolanus is still asleep beside you. Curly hair is splayed on the pillow, free from whatever styling gel he put in it. His face is relaxed and peaceful as you run your fingertips across his forehead and down the bridge of his nose. The stress of being president is gone from his face when he sleeps and that's how you know, mornings are your favorite time of day.
"I can feel you staring at me."
His voice was still muddled with sleep, deep and scratchy as he batted at your hands trying to keep them off his gorgeous face.
"I'm appreciating the art in front of me," You smile as he finally opens his eyes.
"Your hands on my face are making my nose itch." He says grabbing your right hand and gently squeezing it as he sits up beside you.
You hum a tune of acknowledgment and take in his appearance. Coriolanus' pale skin was a wonderful sight to behold as the blanket slipped and fell into his lap.
"You're staring again." He says playing with your fingers
"An incredibly attractive man seems to be missing his shirt, can you blame me for staring?" You state a playful smile pulling on your lips.
Coriolanus lets out a snort and gets out of bed with a grunt. Long red scratches adorn his back as you watch your fiancee walk across the room towards the bathroom, ready to scrub last night's activities off himself.
Yes, mornings were your favorite time of day. You had warm sunshine, delicious food, and Coriolanus by your side.
But, most of all, mornings were your favorite because you weren't alone.
Coriolanus never truly wanted to leave the bedroom he shared with you. Even now as you groaned and begged him to just lounge around the mansion with you, he wished he could go back to when he felt your soft fingertips brushing the bridge of his nose. He had woken up beside you, cleaned himself, and eaten a wonderful breakfast, now the next step was simple. The next step was attending to his duties as the President of Panem and leaving you to your day in the south wing of the mansion. Despite the tempting idea of staying with you, he knew you'd be eagerly awaiting him, tonight at the dinner table, ready to listen about his day. It was the perfect daily routine and Coriolanus never wanted it to change.
He could feel the press of your lips on his lingering hours later as the newest Head Gamemaker listed detailed plans for the games that were two months away. Dr. Gaul's death had been a blow to the way the Hunger Games functioned as a whole. Now, Coriolanus wasn't sure if the new man chosen for the job was truly the correct choice, he didn't have any of the ruthlessness Gaul had. Sure, he could've stepped in but how would he run the country and dream up deadly traps and mutts for tributes. Sure, he probably could've but that meant so many hours of overtime and leaving you to sleep alone in those overly soft sheets you had hand-picked for your shared bed. This new game maker would just have to do, he didn't want to imagine your sad little face if he didn't sit down for dinner with you each night.
The hours after Coriolanus left you at the breakfast table were terribly boring. There wasn't anything for you to do anymore.Sure, you could've gone shopping or gone to a local park but you hated doing all those things alone. Coriolanus had convinced you that running your Father's weapons company would be overwhelming for you and managed it in your name. As far as you knew it was doing well and was providing many jobs for people in the districts. Everything else in the mansion was tended to by an army of maids and butlers, who were ready at the snap of a finger. So, here you sat in your sunroom that Coriolanus had built as a special place just for you.
You had taken up painting nearly a year ago but your long days of solitude had caused you to quickly run out of inspiration. Now, the paints and easel sat, awaiting your touch but your creativity was gone. You missed Coriolanus and he wouldn't return for another hour. Surely dinner was nearly ready and you wished you were sitting with him, listening to whatever he had spent his day doing. Perhaps you should start a new book before he returns. That'd give you something to tell him about when he did come back.
Maybe the extensive in-home library here would have a book about a lonely woman, wishing for her lover. Maybe there'd be a book all about her and how she spent her days without him and how to pass the time. Maybe, there'd be a book all about her mornings with him and how she never wished for them to come to an end.
It was during these long days that you felt like the loneliest woman in all of Panem. Moments like this made it feel like you were a delicate china doll, only removed from her case to be admired for a few spare moments before being placed back on her shelf.
Two Years Later
Watching. It was something you had gotten good at over the past few months, especially since Coriolanus stopped allowing you to leave the grounds of the mansion. You watched as the boy you grew up with and danced at countless galas faded from view. You tried to welcome the man who sat across from you eating his dinner but it was had more and more difficult as the weeks bled into months and months turned to years. Coriolanus even seldom kissed you now. It hurt even though you knew it was for your own safety. He had admitted it one night in the darkness of your room as he lay beside you. Poison had created sensitive sores in his mouth. You wished he'd stop using it, surely there had to be other ways to do away with enemies.
You felt as though you were withering away, your days were so tedious and you often found yourself eagerly waiting at the dinner table for Coriolanus. Your long days were spent in isolation and you rarely spoke to the staff of the mansion. That didn't stop you from racing to the dining room when the sounds of Coriolanus' return sounded through the halls. Some days it felt like you were a child waiting to tell their parent about their day.
Tonight, it was like your words were falling on deaf ears as Coriolanus was paging through a book while nibbling at the food that had been placed in front of the two of you. Your engagement ring was a dazzling silver as you played with your fingers, wishing he'd look up from whatever knowledge that book might've held.
"Coryo..." You began
"Yes?"
His tone wasn't what you had hoped for. He was annoyed that you were interrupting whatever was on the page in front of him so you didn't elaborate on what you had wanted to say.
Watching. It was something you had gotten good at since there wasn't anything else for you to do.
It was raining the day you found them. You had spent most of the day lounging around and working with the wedding planner Coriolanus had hired so you wouldn't have to do all of the work yourself.
It was nestled in an old shoe box, covered in dust, perfectly hidden behind Coriolanus' clothes on his side of the closet. At first, you had thought it might have been more of Sejanus' things that Coriolanus never gave back to Strabo. Instead what you were met with was worse than a dead boy's things. There, wrapped up in a silky orange scarf sat a single golden earring and an envelope. You swore you could smell lingering perfume on the scarf as you opened the envelope.
It felt like your hands were burning when you finally looked at them. Surely they weren't real. Right?
Two pictures sat in your hands. One of Lucy Gray Baird on some unknown stage, a black guitar in hand. Her pretty dark curls were pulled back and behind her a small group of blurry faces were muddled together, unrecognizable due to the poor lighting. You felt a lump of anxiety and anger swell in your throat when you moved on to the next picture. It was taken as if the subjects of the photo had no knowledge of the camera. Lucy Gray sits on a dilapidated-looking couch with your Coriolanus beside her. Her face was partially obscured as she pressed her lips to his cheek and Coriolanus was smiling, his one arm wrapped securely around her waist.
How long had it been since he smiled like that at you? Perhaps it was even before the reaping that had brought her to the Capitol. When was the last time you saw a truly genuine smile from the boy you grew up with? You wondered how you had missed the way his boyish smiles had transformed into those cruel smirks he donned when things went his way.
Jealousy and sadness burned in your stomach as your mind raced. How long had it been since these photos were taken? It had been nearly 7 years since her games. Coriolanus' head was clearly buzzed in the photo with Lucy which meant it was after he was forced by Highbottom to leave the Capitol. How many times after his return to you had he assured you that nothing had happened between them? How many times had you believed him and his sweet words and actions? How many times had he lied and betrayed you all for another girl who mysteriously disappeared?
Betrayal is what you felt as you pocketed the pictures and slid the box back into its spot behind his fancy coats. Tears were pricking at your eyes as you dressed for dinner, Coriolanus would be back soon and you would confront him about the pictures once he was seated across from you at that dinner table you had sat at hundreds of times.
Dinner is silent as you pick at the cut of steak that was placed on your plate. Coriolanus is talking about how he's on the hunt for another head game maker and how annoying it is but you just can't help but not care. The table that separates you from him makes it feel like a huge ravine has grown between the two of you as you tune him out.
15 years is how long you've known Coriolanus Snow. In those 15 years, you had never dreamed of doing what you were about to do as you removed the pictures from where they sat hidden under your pretty skirt, a floral pattern Coriolanus had picked for your 27th birthday a few months ago. Your heart ached as you slid them across the table to him.
"I found these today. In our closet. Wrapped in your mother's scarf with a gold earring."
You finally have all of Coriolanus' attention as he swallows his food and stops his complaining.
"I thought you said it wasn't romantic. You promised me it wasn't."
Coriolanus glances down at the pictures and reaches out to brush his finger across the one with him and Lucy Gray on that couch.
"You promised, Coryo."
Your voice was breaking. Damn it, don't cry!
"I know I did."
He finally speaks. You wondered what was going through that ridiculously complex mind as he fumbled for his words.
"Then why did you lie? I would've listened if you had just told the truth to begin with." You honestly say.
It's true, you would've heard him out. Maybe you wouldn't have taken him back but you would have at least listened.
"I wasn't thinking straight, okay," He says " I should've told you. I should've gotten rid of that stuff years ago. I don't know why I didn't."
"Yes, you do." You sigh "You love her Coryo. Even now, you're looking for Lucy Gray. That's why you keep me here, you're scared I'll run off like her."
"No, no that's not it. I just...want you to myself." He reasoned
"If that were true you'd let me leave."
"Why do you need to? Everything anyone could ever wish for is right here in this home." He points out, you don't miss the way his fist is clenching, his nails digging into his skin.
"I haven't left the mansion in two years!" You cry, blinking back tears "I feel like some prize you've won and caged up! You don't even let me attend galas anymore."
"You hated those galas. All the nosey reporters and their questions were something you hated. Do you want me to apologize for doing you a favor? I won't. I've done nothing but make your life easier." Coriolanus says
"Yes, you have made my life easier, you've eliminated all challenges I might come across by keeping me here, like a doll." You agree, tone dripping with sarcasm
"Look, if you want you can go to the next gala with me. It's in a week I'll get a designer here tomorrow morning to make you a nice dress." Coriolanus sighed, clearly tired "I don't want to argue with you about petty things"
"Good, then we can argue about these photos." You say, ready to finally hear what he had to say.
"I don't love her. Maybe I did at some point but none of that matters now, I came back to you didn't I?"
Maybe I did at some point.
Hot tears fell from your eyes as you looked down at your feet. How could you be so stupid? Why didn't you see it sooner?
The sound of Coriolanus getting up and walking towards you had you wiping at your face and unattractively sniffing as you tried to fix your runny nose. You didn't want him taking your tears as a sign of weakness. He couched down beside you and pulled your chair out so you were facing him.
"Stop crying." He commands placing his hands on your thighs.
Another fresh set of tears falls from your eyes and Coriolanus brushes them away.
"You're a liar." You say, your voice barely a whisper
"I'm not...I want to be here, with you. I'll let you go back out on your little shopping trips and attend galas, shitty reporters and all."
It's tempting, to agree and let everything perfectly mend itself. But as you glance at the pictures that fell off the table and Lucy Gray's face stares back at you, you feel your heart sink to your feet again.
"You're a liar." You say, this time your voice comes out strong as you push his warm hands from your face
Coriolanus gives you a hard stare but lets you pull away from him.
"You can't even apologize for seeing her." You point out
Coriolanus looks guilty as he disgests your words.
"What happened between the two of you?" You asked
"She ran off, I think. I also had some personal issues after Sejanus was killed. She offered for me to go with her, I almost did." He says
You let out a soft hum of acknowledgment as Coriolanus remains in front of you, on his knees, fiddling with the end of your skirt.
"I don't think I ever really loved her. I think it might've just been the idea of possessing her that I liked." He admits, eyes on the floor
"And how is that different than us now?" You ask
Coriolanus' eyes snap up to yours when the question leaves your lips.
"It's different because...we're us...We grew up together, darling. You ate Tigris' cabbage soup and gave me lunch when I didn't have money for my own."
You swallow the lump in your throat and stand up. Coriolanus immediately rises, not interested in being so much shorter than you. You know what has to come next but you're not sure if you're strong enough to do it. Your actions will close the chapter of a book 15 years in the making.
"Coryo...I think I want to go home." You say looking up at him, fresh tears pool in your eyes.
"You are home. You're with me." He says reaching out and taking your hand in his
"No, I mean...to my family's home. I want my mom, I miss her." You admit, pulling your hand out of his.
Coriolanus' face is confused as you look down at the gorgeous ring he gave you at his proposal. It looked so perfect on your hand when you woke up just this morning but now it felt like a death sentence as you sighed.
"I think you should have this back too..." You say as you slip it off and hold it out to him, "I'm sorry about things ending like this, but if you can't even apologize, I don't think I can stay."
Coriolanus' confusion quickly morphs into anger as he looks at the ring in your hand.
"Put it back on. I'm not letting you walk away." He says, upset
"Coryo, don't make this difficult." You say taking the ring and placing it into the pocket that sits just above his heart in his button-up shirt.
You begin to walk towards the looming archway that marks the entrance to the dining room but you're blocked by an angry Coriolanus Snow, tears in his eyes, fists clenched, and his mouth set in a cold line.
"You're not leaving. I won't let you."
Part Four
Series Masterlist
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