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#I wish I had bought two of this shirt though
pearl-kite · 1 year
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For the ask game:
💎 🌿 :)
💎 What’s your most prized possession?
Hm. I started collecting old books, like printed in the early 20th century or older, and my grandma decided to give me a couple of her dad's old school books. One of them is one of the readers that schools would have with a bunch of different short stories and poems and excerpts, and the other is a copy of Irving's The Sketchbook. It has a note to Sextus Surname as a reward for good attendance written on the end sheet. He didn't attend past middle school, but kept them. One of them has a pencil rubbing of some kind of coin I can't decipher.
🌿 Describe your favorite outfit.
Okay, I have this navy short sleeve button-down that has liddol fruits printed all over it that my mom jokingly pointed out at JCPenney's, some black jeans, and then these boots that I spoiled myself with as a reward when I got hired to the school district if I had known I'd resign six months later I would have saved the money soiguessi'mhappyididn'tknow
It's kind of the only ensemble I have that feels like an actual outfit instead of just a top and jeans. I am going to be heartbroken when the shirt wears out.
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asjjohnson · 2 years
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Okay, so... I tried searching for crochet and sewing supplies online, and... it turns out, materials are expensive. :/ So I guess that's part of why I hadn't thought much about making or selling stuff before. (although $36 worth of yarn to make one thing sounds like I must've done the math wrong, because that's a lot of balls of yarn, and why wouldn't one ball of yarn make one item? So it can't be that expensive.)
But would anyone be interested in buying something I would hypothetically make if I were to buy a bunch of yarn and/or fabric and/or a sewing machine?
Like... keyboard cushion with filling, sleeveless jacket/cloak thing (I just think that would be neat), scarf of some sort, curtain tiebacks, pencil holder, ...some random custom-made thing that you can't find at the store...? Maybe weird blankets and throws?
I... thought I would be able to think of more things than this.
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opalici0us · 4 months
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I Dare You || Ryomen Sukuna
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| pairings- Sukuna x fem!reader
synopsis- Two weeks of no sex is too much for poor Sukuna.
content- 18+ MNDI, smut, mean Sukuna, unrealistic car sex (classic handprint), unprotected sex, p in v, MAKEUP SEX, Sukuna is a bit rough, spit, soft Sukuna at the end, fingering, pet names (babe, pretty, my girl), established relationship
wc-2.1k
a/n: I am a whore for Sukuna :(((
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Sukuna knew you were stubborn when you first started dating. You hated backing down and always had to have the last word. Sukuna thought it was hot for the most part until you guys got into a fight that has lasted almost two weeks. Two weeks of sleeping on the couch in your shared home, two weeks of non-stop belittling and snarky comments, and most importantly two weeks of no sex. 
To many people, Sukuna's desperation sounded ridiculous but they didn’t get it. You two were extremely sexually active, almost fucking every day. Sukuna felt like he was going crazy, not only was he pissed and hurt but he was extremely horny. No amount of jerking off and porn can live up to your warm n’ tight little cunt. 
When he’d see you in nothing but one of his t-shirts, or those cute sundresses he bought you, and especially those damn short skirts, he wanted nothing more than just to back down and apologize first so he could be balls deep inside you. It wasn’t that easy. Anytime he’d try you’d stop him. 
“What are you doing…?” You immediately paused as you felt Sukuna wrap his arms around your waist, not even trying to be subtle about the massive problem currently pressed right against you. You felt him grind his massive erection right against you, a low not-so-subtle grunt escaping from his throat.
 “Nothin’, you just look so fuckin’ sexy in this dress. This is the one I got ya’, right?” He whispered right against your ear, making chills go up your spine. It took everything in your body not to give in to him. His tongue ventured out, licking the lobe of your ear. A soft puff of frustration left your lips.
 “You gonna apologize, hmm?” Your tone was fiery as ever. Sukuna stopped his tormenting and rolled his eyes. “Now go away, I’m trying to do the dishes.” You ripped his arms off of you. Trying your best to ignore the arousal pooling in your panties. 
“God, you’re so stubborn, I don’t even know what I have to apologize for! I’ll just go fuck myself then!” Sukuna spat and stormed off to the bathroom, making sure to slam the door behind him, rattling the house. 
Rolling your eyes at him, really wishing he was making your eyes roll back from his cock. You went back to your original task. As you were finally back in the zone with no thoughts in mind, loud groans could be heard…coming from the bathroom.
You drop the plate you were washing back into the sink. As if your feet had a mind of their own, you made your way to the bathroom, placing your ear against the cold door. “Mmm fuuuck, just like Y/N, wanna make a mess on your face.” You heard your boyfriend's muffled groans, the bastard was doing it on purpose. 
You scoff silently, as much as you wanted to ignore him but you couldn’t ignore the heartbeat felt down there. Sighing in frustration, you squeeze your thighs together to bring some relief to your poor untouched clit. Sukuna continued his sultry groans, babbling out “Lemme fill you up baby.” and “You’re so fuckin’ tight.”
Of course, when he came out he had that damn smirk on his face. The kind you wanted to slap off his face, Sukuna was truly going to drive you insane.
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The two of you were currently standing inside Yuuji's place for a housewarming party. The smell of cheap liquor and weed filled the air, the scent mixed was almost sickening. Though you and Sukuna couldn’t bother to care. 
“We are not doing this here, Sukuna.” You spat at him. It was barely 10 minutes of being here and you and Sukuna were already fighting in the corner of the living room. His large frame, cornering you against the wall. 
“Doing what Y/N?” He spoke sarcastically, a smirk etched onto his lips.
 “I mean it, I refuse to fight with you in front of your brother and his friends.” You tried to move but he leaned in, successfully trapping you. 
“I’m just saying, I would have preferred if you didn’t wear this skirt here.” He said, lowly. 
“Are we really going to argue about this right now?” You scoffed, an amused smile adorned your face.
“Don’t play dumb with me right now,” He grabbed your chin. “This skirt is so damn short, you could bend over and everyone could see your fucking pussy,” Sukuna furrowed his eyebrows together. “It’s like you wore it on purpose, fuckin’ attention whore, you’re embarrassing me,” He bit his tongue back realizing the words that just came from his mouth, especially seeing the look on your face. Your mouth was opened slightly, and your eyes widened. That familiar lump forming in your throat. You swiftly pushed past him and walked out of the house, Sukuna was close behind on your heels.
“Y/N, c’mon babe! I didn’t mean it like that.” He held onto your arm.
 “Then what did you mean it like then?” You ripped your arm from his grasp, turning around to face him as you two stood under the street lights.
 “We haven’t had sex in two weeks Y/N! We can’t even be in a room together without fighting! Can you blame me? You’re beautiful and everyone can see that, are you even attracted to me anymore?!” Sukuna berated you, raising his voice. 
“Of course, I’m still attracted to you!” You defended yourself, trying to reassure him. 
“Sure, doesn’t feel like it, Y/N,” Sukuna rubbed his face. You could see the frustration written in bold in his expression. “I don’t even know why we are fighting… Are you trying to push me away? Break up with me?” Sukuna looked down, not wanting you to see him look so weak.
“No! Sukuna…I don’t want to break up.” You hesitantly reached out to him, only for him to back away. 
“Then why are you acting like such a bitch?!” Sukuna finally broke, his sadness turning into rage.
 “Excuse me? You have no room to talk! You’re such a dick Sukuna!” You yelled back at him, feeling tears brim your eyes. “You can’t even apologize!” You looked up at him, fighting the urge to break down in front of him.
“What am I supposed to apologize for?” Sukuna stepped towards you, getting into your face. 
“You’re so insufferable,” You spat at him. “Maybe I do want to break up.” You said looking straight into his eyes. 
“Yeah? Then fuckin’ do it, I dare you.” Sukuna inched closer to your face, you could feel his hot breath.
“Fuck you, Sukuna.” 
In a matter of seconds, your lips were smashed together, his tongue invading your mouth while your hands held onto his shoulders for dear life. His hands tangled in your hair. You bit down on his bottom lip, a growl escaping from his mouth. He removed his hands from your head to your waist, trying to be as close to you as possible. You felt his hard cock pressing against you, making you moan, instinctively you brought your hand down to palm him through his jeans.
“Oh fuck!” He groaned. “Want me fuck ya? Hmm?” He smacked your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “Get in the car.” He demanded and pulled the keys out to unlock it. He crawled into the passenger seat, scooting and leaning the seat back as far as he could get it. 
 “C’mere pretty,” Sukuna pulled you onto his lap, making you straddle him. He slammed the car door shut, maintaining eye contact with you. His hands dipped between your legs, rubbing your mound through your panties. “You soaked through your panties, ha-ah!”
He pulled your panties to the side running his fingers between your folds. You moan loudly, his rough skin sending tingles throughout your body. He started to teasingly rub your clit, barely giving it any stimulation. He moved down your slit once again, probing your tight little entrance. Slipping two fingers inside, thrusting in n’ out at a painfully slow speed.
“P-please Kuna, feel s’ good, w-want more.” Desperate whimpers spilling from your mouth. Your hands clinging onto his biceps to keep your upper body stable. Sukuna's fingers pick up speed, creating loud ‘squelch’ sounds from your wet cunt. 
“Fuckin’ pathetic, got this pussy so sloppy just from kissing.” He said cockily, acting like his dick wasn’t about to burst through the zipper of his jeans. 
“S-shut up, I see t-the wet spot on your jeans.” You smirked and motioned to the spot of pre-cum, seeping through his boxers onto his jeans. 
A scowl formed on Sukunas face, he pulled his hand back and swiftly smacked your pussy, making you yelp. “Yeah? You like pissin’ me off, don’t you?” He landed another harsh smack before, shoving two fingers into your tight hole. You gasped loudly at the feeling, his fingers curling into your sensitive spot, over and over again.
“I…I’m g-gonna cum nngh, if you k-keep doing t-that.” Your legs were trembling with pleasure, a knot forming in your stomach. Your orgasm was so close. Then he stopped…
“I don’t think so,” He chuckled and removed his fingers from your wet warmth. “Want you to cum on my cock, can you do that for me, ride this cock?” His tone was menacing, hiding the desperation in his words. 
“Yes please, wanna feel you inside me.” A little pout on your lips. He chuckled and started to unbutton his jeans, your mouth watering at the sight of his hard length, hidden underneath his boxers. What you’ve been craving for two weeks now. 
Impatiently you reached down to help him, hands fumbling with the waistband. “Impatient? Huh?” Sukuna chuckled, a smirk on his face. His massive member finally free. “Want you to ride me, you know how I like it.” He demanded and helped you guide your hips onto his length. Pulling your skirt up to your waist to watch your bodies connect.
“Shittt, s’ big Kuna.” You squeezed your eyes shut. Never getting used to his size.
“Tsk, this slutty pussy seems to take me fine all those other times, don’t lie to me now.” Sukuna shook his head, pretending to be disappointed. There was an undertone in his words. With no warnings, he thrusted up into you. 
“Oh fuck!” You yelped, his cockhead kissing your cervix perfectly. “D-don’t do that!” You were unable to protest, despite Sukuna saying he wanted YOU to ride him; he's doing all the work.
“Fuck! Always so tight….shittt!” He babbled on and on. His hands dug into your waist, holding you in place so he could violently pound his cock into you with no mercy. His tip was brushing against the bundle of nerves that makes you go crazy. “Yesyesyes, ohmy- Sukuna!” Your screams of pleasure only flued him more.
“Just w-wanna fuck you good, show how I missed fuckin’ my girl.” He groaned loudly. Unable to comprehend anything but the pleasure you’re feeling, your mouth falls open, the drool spilling out, dripping down your chin. Sukuna leans up, his tongue coming out to lick the liquid up.
“Y-you’re s-so sick.” You managed to choke out. Sukuna pulled you down with him, wrapping his arms around your waist. The pace of his thrust never died down, if anything they picked up. The sudden new intensity made him much deeper than before. “So f-fuckin deep Kuna.” 
Your hand slammed against the foggy window, creating a nice hand print. 
“I’m sorry Y/N…m’ really sorry baby.” He suddenly slowed his pace down. His rough grip loosened, hands migrated down to your hips, encouraging you to take over.
Silently you complied, moving against him in circular motions. “N-no I’m sorry, mmph, baby.” You whimpered and pressed your forehead against his. “I s-should have just talked…t-to you.” Your body began to shake again. Your orgasm was creeping up.
“I don’t wanna b-break up.” He admits, his red eyes gazing into yours. “I love you.” He slowly began to thrust back into you, meeting your hips halfway. “Don’t wanna fight with you anymore.” He sounded so desperate.
“I love you too.” Your lips met his for a soft kiss, humming at the feeling. Your release was so close, your walls started to pulse around him. “M’ gonna cum.” Sukuna's ears perked up, he almost came just from hearing your words and feeling the way you squeezed so tightly around him. 
“Yeah? Me too, cum with me baby,” He picked up the pace once again. “Milk this cock.” Heavy groans coming from him. His cum painting your tight walls, your own orgasm hitting you. Pulsating around him, milking every drop of his release. “So good baby, that’s it…” He cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your hips. 
“I forgive you by the way…” You kissed his forehead. 
“Let me eat that pretty pussy first and I’ll forgive you too.”
“Sukuna!”
“Just kidding…”
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wintfleur · 3 months
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Hiii can I pls request 🌱 childhood home/room with Charles Leclerc or lewis and female reader? Loads of fluff and maybe nsfw?
For Charles like praising but if you write Lewis maybe an age gap, praising, pocessive? Soft but dominant for both and talking the reader through it with an extensive aftercare? Like all giggling and cuddling etc would loveee that
౨ৎ it’s called charm baby !
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°. — pairings ( Lewis Hamilton x female! Reader )
°. — summary ( your boyfriend knows how to make you feel better, after dinner with him meeting your family doesn’t go well )
°. — details ( g; fluff & smut. w; smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!), cursing, hair pulling, I think that’s all?. wc; 2.7k )
﹕─┈ prompt ~ childhood room
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I COULD NOT STOP GIGGLING AS I READ THIS NONNIE YOU ARE A GENIUS !!!! This was my first Lewis fic, and I just loved writing for him so thank you for sending in the request, I really hope you enjoy this !!! I’m still kinda new to writing smut so I hope you guys like it <333 )
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“Well that went better than i expected” Lewis mused after he heard the sound of you closing the door behind you. His eyes were immediately drawn to your walls, taking in every detail with a fond smile. He always wondered what your childhood room looked like; he'd seen a few pictures of you in the room, but it was different from actually being there. He didn't get a chance of getting a good look earlier when the two of you had brought your shared luggage up, your youngest brother who was only a few years younger than you, whisking him away before he could really take everything in. 
You could hear the slight of sarcasm in his tone making you feel even worse on how your parents ⸺ no how your father treated him at dinner. The two of you decided to finally come visit your parents now that Lewis is on break. You were a little hesitant on coming, knowing how your father could be, but Lewis was convincing. Your mother was as sweet as always, asking questions about his career and giving his family good wishes, your two brothers were eager to talk about his career as well, your niece was absolutely smitten with him, and your father . . . completely uninterested. You knew he wasn't happy with you and Lewis's age-gap with how much he voiced his opinion about it, but still you thought he'd at least try . . . for you. 
“I’m really sorry lew, we shouldn't have come” you frowned as your eyes followed your boyfriend of a year around your room. He was taking in every detail, everything in your room made sense to him, everything was so you. Lewis looked away from your collection of posters over your desk and moved to sit on the edge of your bed facing you, a smile on his lips. “Don't say that baby, i know you really wanted to see your family, and I've had a great time.” 
“Give me a few more days and I'll get your dad to like me” Lewis promised as he leaned back on his hands, a small giggle leaving his lips as he saw the clearly old stuffed bear perfectly sitting on your bed. You feel your heart warm at his words, he was always so selfless, willing to go through anything just so he could see a smile on your pretty face. You swiftly lock your door and walk over to your boyfriend, the corner of your lips twitching up into a smirk when you watch how his eyes immediately drop to your swaying hips. 
“You are quite charming” You whispered as you placed your hands on your boyfriend's shoulders, feeling the smooth silk of his shirt as you climbed up onto his lap, the two of you keeping eye contact as he looked up at you. Lewis smirked as he heard your coquettish tone that he loved so much. The dress he bought you in Brazil riding up your thighs at the new position and he was eager to move his hands to caress your bare thighs, chills decorating your skin at his touch. 
“Oh, am i?” he teasingly asks you even though he was well aware how charming he is with how much you reminded him, a cocky smile on his lips. Lewis watched as you playfully rolled your eyes as you moved your hands to his nape, your breath hitching when you felt him slide his hands under your dress and up your thighs. You playfully chided him with a click of your tongue and a small shake of your head “Cockiness doesn't look good on you Lewis.” 
That's a lie. It looked really good on him . . . 
“Fuck but you do” lewis quickly breathed out as he looked up at you, swiftly moving one of his hands out from under your dress and tangling it in your hair at your nape and pulling you down into a wet kiss he’s wanted to do all day. A small sound of surprise leaves your lip that he's quick to swallow, his lips eagerly moving against yours. You move one of your hands to cup his cheek, the soft caress of your thumb on his jaw was completely different from the passionate kiss the two you were sharing. 
You absentmindedly grinded against your boyfriend's lap, a mix of a moan and a whine leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction against his bulging length and the feeling of his grip tightening on your hair. The two of you were both so desperate for each other's touch, having to be good and keep your hands to yourself all day in front of your family. God it was torture, especially seeing how good he looked. The lingering touches he left on your waist as he walked past you, or the soft touches on your thighs under the table. He knew what he was doing . . . 
You reluctantly pull away from your boyfriend's addictive lips, panting against his lips as you're slow to open your eyes. You lock eyes with lewis darkened ones, your thighs clenching around him when he untangles his fingers out of your hair and uses his thumb to wipe the spit off your tingling lips. “Please” your tone is desperate and whiny. You didn't have to say anything else; he knew what you wanted, and your eyes were begging him to fuck you.
You knew you were playing with fire, but your room was far enough from your parents, and you were too needy to really care. Lewis groaned as he felt you grind your hips impatiently against him, a smirk forming on his lips. He could feel you throbbing even with three layers of clothing between the two of you. Lewis chuckled and rested his hand on your collarbone, his thumb teasingly tracing the column of your throat, knowing that you were just itching to have him wrap his hand around it. His hand under your dress gripped your thigh “You think you can be quite hmm? Be my good girl?” 
“I promise lewis, i'll be your good girl” you promised as you nodded quickly, starting to get impatient as you felt his hand slowly move up and down your thigh, the cold chill of his rings against your warm skin sending a shiver down your spine. You couldn't wait anymore, and he could see that. The look in your eyes, the impatient rolling of your hips, 
“I know baby, you're always my good girl aren't you” Lewis whispered as slowly trailed his hand up the inside of your thigh. You let out a small huff of frustration, just wanting to feel his fingers calm that ache between your thighs. But you were quick to close your mouth and bite your lip at the stern look lewis gave you, he had no problem with you being needy, but he crossed the line at you being bratty. But he’ll take pity on his pretty girl, he moves his hand right to where you were needing him the most. A gasp leaving your lips at his touch while a small chuckle leaves him at how damp your panties were, his pointer finger teasingly rubbing your clit through your panties. 
“Mhm yes lew” you whimpered and leaned down to lay your head on his shoulder, softly biting his silk shirt to keep your moans at bay as he dips his fingers into your panties, covering his fingers in your slick and smoothly slipping two fingers inside your throbbing hole. You wrap your arms around Lewis muscular shoulders, a whine leaving your lips at the sudden stretch. 
Lewis smiles cheekily and looks down at you, your lips parted as sweet and quiet moans left your lips as he continued his slow movement, massaging your tight walls. Leaning down to whisper in your ear, his beard tickling your face, but you were too lost in pleasure to say anything about it “Awe darling, you're just sucking my fingers up, so tight.” 
“Feels so good” You moaned out, tilting your head to start kissing and sucking your boyfriend's godly neck, desperately needing to occupy your mouth so you wouldn't be moaning out praises and curses at the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you. Lewis let out a quiet grunt at the feeling of your lips on his burning skin, sucking and nibbling. And the way you gently rutted against his fingers and the choked-out moan you let out when he curled his fingers up, made him want to lay you across the bed and fuck you until you couldn't take it anymore. 
“Lew i need more ⸺ please fuckkk i need more” you begged, letting out a sharp gasp when he starts rubbing your clit with his thumb, his hand covered in your slick. Lewis smirks and locks eyes with you, your eyes glazed over. His poor baby was already fucked out and he hasn't even taken his cock out. Lewis kisses your forehead and slowly pulls his fingers out of your sopping hole and softly patting your clit as he whispers.
 “Only because you asked so prettily.” 
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“Fuck darling, you take me so fucking well” Lewis got out between his grunts, his thumbs dipped into the dimples of your back as he holds tightly onto your waist as he thrusts into you from behind. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips parted as his gaze was fixed on where your bodies connected ⸺ loving how good your pussy swallows him in. He slides his hands down to hold your ass, his fingers sinking into your skin and spreading it open slightly to watch as his dick covered in your slick disappears in your needy cunt. 
A soft chuckle leaves his lips when he notices your trembling thighs “Feels good, huh?” 
“Feels so good” you mewled in pleasure, your arms were stretched under the coolness of your pillows, and the soft fabric of your duvet against your cheek and naked body felt so good against your burning skin. Your face was smushed against your soft pillow, hoping that it would help muffle your uncontrollable moans that only got more frequent the harder his thrusts got. 
Lewis pulls up your hips and adjusts the pillow under your hips, the new angle causing him to pound into you deeper. A loud moan leaving your lips at how deep he was stretching you ⸺ you felt so full. The sound of your skin meeting creates a lewd noise that makes you feel like you were in a trance, being lulled by the rhythmic sound. You pull your pillow closer to you, whines and moans leaving your parted lips as your body jerks forward from the hard thrusts “It's too much!” 
Lewis leans down as he continues fucking into your aching cunt, one of his hands softly rubbing up your back before tangling his hands into your hair and making a makeshift ponytail and pulling you up against his chest. Your back arched and one of your trembling hands moved behind you and dug your fingers into the skin of Lewis thigh so you wouldn't fall, a delicious hiss leaving his lips at the sting he welcomed. “You can take it baby ⸺ we both know you can” he whispered huskily in your ear, trailing off into a taunting coo, both of you thinking back on the countless times of you fucking yourself on his cock. 
“You gonna cum for me love?” Lewis moaned, feeling the way you clenched around him, the feeling bringing him closer to his own peak. “Yes lew!” you whined as you tilted your head back against him. Lewis kept his eyes on you taking in the beauty of your side profile as he continued to fuck you. Your eyebrows were furrowed, and your eyes were glazed over with pleasure, your mouth parted as quiet moans slipped past your lips. 
“I’m gonna cum  ⸺ fuckk” you cried out, but it came out muffled from lewis hand quickly covering your mouth, your head tipping forward as you felt that rope inside you snap, letting you fall into your own desire. Everything went silent for a second and you swore you lost vision as you came undone. And like a chain reaction, Lewis spilled himself deep inside of you, not being able to hold back once he felt you cum around him. Quiet grunts leaving his lips as he tilted his head back in pleasure. 
Your trembling body fell forward on your bed, a whimper leaving your lips at the feeling of him slipping out of you while a hiss left his. You snuggled your face into your unruly sheets as you tried to catch your breath and calm down from the intense orgasm your boyfriend led you to. Lewis’s sweaty chest heaved as he panted and also tried to catch his breath, his eyes closing for a few seconds. 
He looks down at your tired body and places his hands on the bed at the sides of your body, softly kissing your back a few times a smile on his lips at the sight of your sweaty body. You let out a quiet groan as you rolled over in bed, your glazed over eyes looking up at your smiling boyfriend. Lewis leaned down, placing his hands by your head so he wouldn't crush you with his body weight. 
“You did so good f’me” lewis praised you as he placed gentle and soft kisses all over your face. You smiled and shut your eyes at the soft feeling of his lips, one of his hands moving to gently caress your side. His head falling into the crook of your neck to softly kiss. You hum in satisfaction at his soft and sweet touches and whisper “up for a bath?” 
Lewis placed a few more kisses on your shoulder and collarbone before sitting up on his knees between your spread legs. You smile and sit up as well, placing your hand on his abdomen before placing a soft and meaningful kiss over his heart. Lewis looked down at you with such love, taking your hand on his chest into his and placing a kiss on it before whispering “Always with you darling.”
Lewis helps you out of your bed and into your bathroom that was connected to your room, his hands flipping the switch while you were already moving to the shelf in your bathroom, grabbing a few candles and setting them on the edge around your big white bathtub. You would be lying if you said you didn't miss your bathtub the most about your childhood room. 
Lewis rests his hands on your waist as you lean down to turn on the water, hot water soon pouring out and filling the bath. You giggle when you come up, your back coming flush against his chest. Lewis was quick to place a few kisses on your shoulder and whisper in your ear how beautiful you looked. You turn around and playfully scold him with a grin on your face “You're such a flirt.” 
“I prefer to say I'm just charming” Lewis smirked, using your words against you. You bit your lip and nod your head, touché. You let Lewis get into the bath first, and then you. Your body nestling between his legs and his arms wrapped around your waist as you leaned back against his chest. The two of you enjoyed a few minutes of peaceful silence as you relaxed in the warm bath, your muscles relaxing from the cardio. 
“I love you” you broke the silence as you tilted your head to look back at him. He could see the reflection of the candle burning in your eyes, and your lips were so red from all the bruising kisses the two of you shared. He brought his water-soaked hand and cups your cheek, bringing you closer and resting his forehead on the side of your head. Yes, the dinner didn't go the way the both of you wanted, but he wouldn't have changed anything because it brought the two of you here . . . in that soft moment filled with nothing but love and vanilla candles. 
“And i love you “
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( ahhh im nervous about this 🤭 please tell me what you guys think 💋 )
°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @cixrosie @partyinpitlane @toasttt11 )
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munsonthings86 · 4 months
Text
sunshine
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: a love-struck steve cooks you dinner for the first time
warnings: cursing, alcohol, bit of backstory, oversimplified summary, steve's parents kinda suck (when do they not), best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, soft!steve
an: i think this is my favorite thing i’ve ever written. i'm so in love with these two. i hope you all enjoy this one as much as i do. * don’t copy my work * (also pretend there's a big city near hawkins for the sake of this pls)
wc: 6.0k
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“Ow!” Steve hissed, nicking his finger yet again as he made his best effort to dice pesky onions. The knife was razor-sharp as it was fresh out of its packaging, having never been used yet. Frustrated, he squeezed the band-aid he'd spent a solid ten minutes looking for, tighter on his finger, earning a harsh sting.
"Goddamned knife," he whispered, tightlipped, but as soon as the complaint left his lips he wished to yank it back in. It was the chef's knife you'd bought him along with many other thoughtful housewarming gifts to celebrate Steve moving into his first apartment. Steve had insisted that you return some of the gifts, noting that "one gift was more than he could ever ask for".
In spite of his pleas, you didn't return a single gift. Of course, you didn't. You had bought items you knew Steve would need but would ultimately forget to buy for himself. Just to name a few, you'd gotten him a trash bin for his bathroom, a record player, and the best utensil set that the rest of your Family Video paycheck could buy.
Peering at the odd assortment of household objects you'd lugged into his barren apartment with a bright smile pulling at the corners of your lips, an expression of gratitude and bewilderment claimed his face. Steve's round, chestnut-brown eyes ogled yours as you ranted and raved, explaining your thought process behind each purchase.
The record player was for nights like these. Peaceful nights indoors, simply enjoying each other's company without the tense presence of his parents who would shout for him to turn that damn music down if he even thought about letting the needle hit the groove of the record.
"Now we can play music as loud and as much as we want to," he remembered you saying, blushing at your use of the word "we". Though you two were only best friends and have been since grade school, Steve couldn't help but fantasize about a life with you. You, drowning in one of his bigger-than-you t-shirts, prancing around the apartment as you listened to some your favorite records.
He'd begun pondering on how he would rearrange the bit of furniture he had, that'd allow for space for your belongings as well, before you lured him out of his thoughts, defending the bin.
From what he gathered, you bought the garbage bin due to his burning inability to keep his bathroom clean. Steve was someone who took great care of his appearance, always well-kempt and attentive to even the smallest of details.
His bathroom did not reflect this, whatsoever. He had a bad habit of harboring empty cans and bottles of Farrah Fawcett spray that littered the already limited counter space he had in his en suite bathroom.
Steve was such a boy when it came to tidiness.
Everyone knew that about Steve, though. What they didn’t know, however, was how skilled he was in a kitchen. After being left to his lonesome whenever his parents would venture off to one of their many business trips, Steve spent his nights learning to cook after his allowance dwindled and he couldn't afford pizza delivery anymore. The second he'd clock in for his shift at Family Video, he'd make a beeline to where you stood, stocking VHS tapes, and instantly began buzzing and bustling about the new recipe he tried the night before.
You had begged him to let you come over one night to taste one of his home-cooked meals, but his response was always the same. "You can't rush perfection, sweets. But I promise, when I'm ready to grace the world with my master chef skills, you'll be the first to know."
You would roll your eyes dramatically at him but admittedly, you felt a sense of pride wash over you whenever Steve would tell you about his cooking endeavors. It may not seem like a big deal to others, but you knew how much his parents being so negligent, so often, bothered him.
Though they were never the most warm and affectionate, there seemed to be a colder chill and heavier sense of loneliness in the house when they were gone. That's why you never denied Steve whenever he'd call late at night asking if it was okay to spend the night at your house.
He always felt at home there.
Steve learning to cook for himself meant that his parents' absence was finally beginning to help him grow; no longer craving validation and tenderness from his family. He got that when he was with you. That's what the utensil set was for. A silent sign saying that though his parents weren't there, you were.
"Don't get me wrong, sunshine, I love the gift, but why's this knife so funny looking?" Steve asked, squinting his eyes at the sharp object that looked like it was from some alien universe. It had three square-like holes infiltrating the blade, and the tip came to an up-turned point that split in two. The handle was the only average looking part about it.
"That, my friend, is a cheese knife," you answered matter-of-factly, gazing at the box that had all of the included utensils neatly labeled.
"They make knives specifically for cheese?"
"Apparently, yeah," you snorted, tossing the empty box off to the side of the room with the other discarded cardboard that you made a mental note to move to the recycling bin on your way out. Steve never recycled. Bad habit he picked up from his parents, you figured.
"Well, I can't wait to use my weird new knife. Thank you. Seriously," Steve smiled softly as he watched you with those big brown eyes that voiced his gratitude and sentiment louder than his words ever could.
"The best weird chef has to have the best weird equipment. You're welcome," you grinned, toying with the loose thread dangling from your distressed band tee, as your eyes collided with Steve’s.
Looking at Steve was hard.
In the midst of quiet and almost intimate moments like these, the nerves bolting through your body screamed at you to look anywhere else, but the greed of your heart yearned for you to keep drinking in the deep chocolate pools that were Steve Harrington's eyes.
The two of you gazed at each other for another second, though it felt identical to a blissful eternity, until Steve furrowed his eyebrows after registering what you'd just uttered. "Did you just call me weird?" He asked, hand on his hip as if he's offended, though he truthfully isn't because he's positive you're infinitely weirder than he is, and he's more than willing to debate with you for hours on that topic.
"Nooo," you sang, quickly turning away to distract yourself with some unpacking that Steve had called you over to help him with, which you happily agreed to. A little extra time with him was time well spent.
"Yeah, okay," he rolled his eyes. He happily tucked away the flashy silverware he'd poached from his parent's kitchen into the darkest corner of the drawer, leaving the less flashy but much more appreciated utensils you bought him, front and center, ready to be shown off.
"Oh those? My best friend got them for me. Aren't they nice? Did you know they make knives for cheese?" He imagined himself saying, hoping he'd get the opportunity to boast about them to his guests some time soon.
Steve smiled to himself at the memory, angling the cutting board that harbored a pile of diced onions that he'd at last conquered, into a bowl, sliding them off with the blade of a knife that was a lot less odd shaped compared to his trusty cheese knife. It didn't even have to be that specific memory. It could've been any imagery of you being the effortlessly sarcastic, intelligent, breath-taking person that you were, and it would be the warm light to inevitably guide him out of whatever dark mood that dared to plague him.
Steve was so helplessly in love with you.
April 14, 1978, he could never forget the day, was particularly dreary. So dreary it made Steve begin to question why the spring time was thought to be such a radiant, pleasant season when all it ever did was bring rain and provoke people with allergies. Steve slammed his blaring alarm off with a groan, never bothering to pry open his tired eyes.
The sky was dark and dreadful, concealing the golden rays of the sun he yearned to see. As he trudged through the house, reluctantly gearing himself up for yet another torturous day of middle school, Steve silently prayed for some unorthodox happenstance that would call for the canceling of school.
But much to his dismay, that wasn't the case.
When the bell pierced through the classroom speakers, alerting the beginning of Steve's favorite class, P.E., he rushed to the locker room, jumping into his gym uniform, as he was determined to continue his unfaltering streak of dodgeball victories.
Steve was in the zone, taking out his opponents left and right as if it was nothing. If dodgeball was an Olympic sport, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he could've won multiple gold medals.
Then you came.
Sauntering into sixth grade gym class, adorning a lengthy, bright yellow dress with your hair done up, looking as anxious as can be. It was your first day at Hawkins Middle and you'd just transferred halfway into the semester, all thanks to your parents decision to move to the small town, leaving New York City and all your friends behind.
Everyone turned their curious heads to peer at you, whispering amongst each other, prompting you to clutch your books tighter to your chest as if to shield yourself. Your soft smile as you looked around at your new classmates instantly made Steve's chest and stomach warm and gooey inside, making him want nothing more than to walk up to you and convince you to be his friend. Steve hated how gossipy his classmates were, as it clearly made you uncomfortable, but he couldn't bring himself to look away either.
The way the illuminous medallion hue complimented your skin tone was nothing short of art. To him, you were the sun personified. The sun he was so eager to see.
Due to your lack of sports attire, Coach Daniels had you sit on the bleachers, watching as the other kids resumed their game of dodgeball after mumbling a "warm" welcome to you, per Coach's request.
Steve lost his first game of dodgeball that day. He just couldn't seem to focus when you were perched just a few feet away, thumbing through your withered book, looking like one of the prettiest girls he'd ever laid his adolescent eyes on. Steve, or the boy with the hella good hair as you dubbed him in your diary later on that night, was too enamored with you to be bothered by the taunts coming from his friends. He jogged over to you, offering to keep you company until fourth period began, which you happily accepted.
And ever since then, the two of you have been as thick as thieves.
"Hawkins PD, open up!" Steve recognized your muffled voice, though you deepened it, to imitate a police officer. Your signature three knocks followed, urging butterflies to erupt throughout his stomach, as he longed to see you. It couldn't have been more than twenty-four hours since the two of you had last seen each other, but even one hour without you was an hour way too long for poor Steve.
"It's open", Steve called, tossing a hand towel over his shoulder, setting the stove ablaze, planting a pot over the flame. Right on time, he thought.
"Hey, Harrington," you smiled as you struggled to enter, cradling two bottles of rosé wine and your purse in your arms, pushing the door open with the help of your hip.
"Hey, sunshine. Lemme get those for ya," Steve offered, stowing your bearings on the counter gently, while you kicked your shoes off, mumbling a "thanks".
A warm amber light casted from the ceiling of the kitchen spilled into the shadowy living room a few feet away, like a neglected can of paint. The only thing that remained un-melted by the darkness was the quiet record player, as if the generous light knew you'd be looking for it the minute you walked in.
"How was your day?" Steve smirked as he watched you rush over to the object he swore was the only reason you liked to come over, sifting through the vinyl's searching for your favorite one. What’s Love Got To Do With It by Tina Turner. Steve spotted it before you did. Absentmindedly, you responded, “Not too shabby, ya know? How was yours?”
“Yeah, it was alright.”
You crouched down to the two tier storage table, running a finger across the spines of the records, searching for your beloved song. It quickly became the song you most adored when you'd bought the tape for your Walkman a few years prior. Your days weren't complete unless you played the song at least twice, so much so that Steve found himself quietly humming the song to himself whenever he'd miss you. He even caught himself doing that dumb little finger dance you normally did whenever you listened to a song you really liked. He'd never tell you that, though.
Much to your dismay, you couldn't seem to spy that sneaky record. You dropped your hand disappointedly, faintly fearsome that it'd been misplaced. Steve's apartment wasn't huge, but it wasn't exactly tidy either. “It’s right there, sweets. To your left.” So you diverted your attention to the left. No Tina Turner. “No, your other left.”
“Here?” you pointed. Steve hummed in confirmation.
“Well, that’s not the left, Steve. That’s the right,” was your response that you punctuated with a roll of your tired eyes. Apart from knowing how to get to Skull Rock with his eyes closed, the boy had zero sense of direction. It was something you found both endearing and infuriating. It depended on the day, really.
“Potato, potahto.” Oh, Steve. Melting butter into the burning pan in front of him that he almost completely forgot about, all thanks to your beautiful presence, he began sautéing his diced onions along with some fresh garlic. "Well, speaking of 'potahtoes' you need to be cooking some, 'cause you promised me dinner tonight," you smiled tight-lipped, cocking your head at an angle.
You felt the unpleasant sensation of your stomach growling, cursing you, at the heavenly thought of food as your shift at Family Video earlier today was unforgiving to your non-existent breakfast. You fumbled with the vinyl a bit as the mouthwatering aroma of home cooking stormed your senses and Steve spoke once more. "Feisty today, aren't we?"
"Just a tad," you laughed quietly.
"Well, I hate to disappoint you but tonight we're not having potatoes. I'm making your favorite," he pointed, shuffling the pan to give it a gentle stir. He made sure to turn to face you in time to see your hopefully delighted reaction. "Alfredo?!" you spun around with a glittering grin, almost knocking over Steve's plant. A fake one, of course. A real plant was a bit too much responsibility for him.
At the nod of his head, your cheesy smile soften to a smaller, less toothy one as you watched Steve while he resumed cooking. What you failed to share with your best friend was that the last phrase you'd actually use to describe your day was "not too shabby". Besides waking up almost an entire hour past the start of your shift (Keith made sure to give you an earful about that) and everyone and their mother in town deciding to be at Family Video today, it seemed like your day was never-ending. The only thing keeping your mood from turning stink to sour was the idea of going to see Steve.
Steve was kind of magical in that way. Anger, sadness, anxiety, you name it, it was no match for Steve. Though he was no poet, he had this way with words that would never fail to make you feel so comforted. So safe. Any instance where Steve had to talk you out of whatever mental turmoil you were enduring, it felt you were being endlessly wrapped in a cozy, tight blanket, sheltering you from all the darkness.
How Steve knew you were having a shit day and needed your favorite meal along with your favorite boy? Lord knows. His ability to read you without even needing to be near you was nothing short of wizardry. But like you said. Steve was magical.
"You're the best," you proclaimed, prompting a mumbled sly remark from your chef for the evening, before the music began. Being here, along with the divine sound of Tina's ethereal voice and pasta boiling in water, was more than enough to make you feel like you were right at home, though your true address was miles away. When the time to depart would make its cursed arrival, it was never easy to leave, especially with the way Steve begged for you to stay, using those unfairly adorable puppy dog eyes that paired beautifully with his lengthy lashes, against you.
And it always worked. Well, not always. You had some degree of self-control. But more times than not, you couldn't help but to cave in to his protests. How could you resist? It was Steve.
With a satisfied grin that carved deep smile lines into his blushing cheeks, he'd tuck his sheets snug around your body, repeatedly asking you if you were comfortable enough. His bed was cloud-like, plush and doughy and his pillows smelled like his shampoo and conditioner, a hint of cologne on his comforter. It was like you were trapped in a cocoon of Steve. You wanted to tell him you were beyond comfortable, that there, in his bed, you were in just about your favorite place on Earth but, habitually, you concluded that a simple nod would suffice.
Crawling onto the empty space beside you, he made sure to face you, leaving a soft squeeze on your shoulder before humming "G'night, sunshine," closing his eyes and tucking his hands under his head. And like always, Steve was a perfect gentleman, dead set on never getting under the covers himself when you'd sleep over.
Guilt would disrupt your relaxation at the sight of the brisk night chill building little hills on his freckled arms, though you selfishly loved the way he'd cuddle up to steal some of your body heat. His plump lips would part as he drifted into a peaceful slumber, light snores and chirping crickets being your lullaby.
You hoped to have another night like that soon.
In the midst of times like those, storms of wonder and doubt raged on. Was Steve like this with everyone else? Were you being silly thinking that you and Steve could be more than friends? Being Steve's best friend for nearly a decade, you knew he wasn't exactly a prude. His King Steve era was honestly one of your least favorites. Though he reserved his usual tenderness and affection all for you, you've witnessed a whole slew of girls enter and leave Steve's life, and none of them looked like you.
You wanted nothing more than to be one of the girls he'd have leaned up against his locker, arm resting next to their head, cheeks fanned by his minty breath as he whispered honeyed words. You craved dates at the drive-in theater in Steve's burgundy 1983 BMW only to neglect the movie and end up making out, like he did with other girls.
When Steve would bring his latest lover around, desperately, you did your damnedest to bury your jealousy and and fill its grave with merriment for him, because if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Steve. But the girls at school only wanted to be with Steve because of his status and all the flashy things he could buy them.
The flashy things were dull to you, though.
You wanted to be with Steve because you wanted to hold his hand and press soft kisses to his cheek. To hug him a little tighter and little longer than a best friend normally would. To run your fingers through his fluffy hair whenever he would grow stressed because you knew it calmed him down. To make him breakfast in bed when he was sick and even when he wasn't. To love him your fullest potential.
But you had to settle for this. Calves tucked under your thighs with a blanket draped over your legs as you stared off into space, longing for someone you thought you couldn't have, not knowing he was stealing glances of you wondering what was running through your pretty little head.
Resting your arm against the back of the sofa, holding your head up, your lips were downturned in a pout, eyebrows pulled together as you studied the throw pillow a few inches away from you. A little pillow can't be that interesting, something has to be bothering you, he thought. He was unapologetically curious to know if pressing his lips against your own would make that frown melt into that sweet smirk you usually had.
Steve hated when you were unhappy. It made his mind race. Did someone say something to you? Did someone do something to you? Did you eat today? How was your shift? Why did you lie when you said your day "wasn't too shabby"? Obviously it was shabby. Look at your face. That tired and troubled, cute little face. What can he do to fix it? You were his sunshine, you deserved to be happy, always.
Giving the pot a final stir and turning the flame off, Steve carelessly tossed the grease-stained hand towel flopped over his shoulder, down by the sink, strolling over to where he'd earlier set down the two bottles of wine. White Zinfandel. Neither you or Steve were wine connoisseurs, but when you called Nancy panicking about how extensive the selection at the liquor store was, she swore by it.
Balancing two glasses and a single bottle of the rose-tinted alcohol, Steve took an extra glance at your face, deciding to scoop up the second bottle into his arms. By the looks of it, it was gonna be one of those nights.
You tried to hide your smile as you noticed he was coming over, a slight grin on his face as he set the glasses down. You and him both knew he was only coming to cause trouble. He set the delicate haul down on to the thrifted wooden coffee table in front of you, slipping you one of those comforting 'Steve smiles' he usually did.
Like the forgotten towel, he threw himself down on the couch next to you, warm hand having a much softer landing on the plush of your thigh; a familiar and welcomed touch. Habitually, you curled up closer to him, no longer able to hide your smile.
"Why so glum, chum?" He tilted his chin down, slightly poking his bottom lip out, as he looked at you through batting eyelashes.
Laughing through your nose and subsequently parading a grin that displayed nothing but teeth and hollow happiness, you remarked, "What do you mean? Don't you see me smiling?"
You were fooling absolutely no one. Steve knew you were sad. And, goddamn it, he was gonna get it out of you.
"You know exactly what I mean, you weren't smiling just a few seconds ago until I came over. You're welcome, by the way, I'm flattered that I have such an effect on you," he smirked, placing a hand on his chest in gratitude.
"Okay, now I'm glum again," you roll your eyes at his not-so discreet cockiness. You hid your face in your hands, resting your forehead on Steve's shoulder. It was hard with muscle, but soft with tenderness and safety. "I was smiling at the wine, for your information."
The palm of your hand that pressed against your face muffled your words, but Steve could still understand what you said, it was evident in the way your tone was laced with satire.
"Ah, yes, that makes way more sense" Steve replied, monotone. His thumb began coasting along your skin as he urged you, "Alright, jokes aside. How are you really feeling?"
Hoisting your head up, you almost answered before he continued, "And don't give me that 'not too shabby' crap 'cause that frown you had going on earlier already snitched on ya."
When the hell did he get so observant? Steve was no idiot, but sometimes things needed to be spelled out for him. But come to think of it, you never had to spell things out for Steve whenever it came to you. He just always had a way of knowing.
"I don't know, Steve. Honestly. Some days are just a bit tougher than others. Today was one of those days," you murmured, avoiding the attentive gaze he was burning into your shifty eyes.
He slowly nodded as he processed your words, head falling on top of yours as you again found comfort on his shoulder. His eyes fluttered shut as you began mimicking the affection he was giving you on your thigh, rubbing his arm through the creamy cotton material of his crewneck. You hadn't seen it before. This one was new. So were the jeans he'd paired with it.
"Why're you dressed so nice, Harrington?"
He laughed more to himself than to you. "Well, the food can't be the only thing that looks good, you know? Wanted to look nice too. It's our first dinner together, after all," he mumbled the last bit.
Steve felt the skin around your eyes tighten against his shoulder as your eyebrows scrunched together. "We've had dinner together before, though."
"This one's different," he replied, almost instantly. You'd hoped Steve's eyes were still closed so that he wouldn't see the bashfulness you were weathering, plucking the corners of your lips into a soft smile.
A silence fell between the two of you. Not unusual. Not awkward. Never unusual or awkward. There was a mutual cherishment of moments like these. Shamelessly invading each other's personal space on the couch as if it was made to only fit one person, music playing lowly the distance, but preferring to listen to the sound of the other's breathing.
"How can I make you feel better, sunshine?" Steve questioned, voice still hushed. The volume of your voice wasn't much louder as you responded, thoughtlessly, "You don't have to ask me that. You make me feel better without even trying."
"Oh yeah?" He craned his neck so that his head was impossibly closer to yours, awaiting your confirmation. Steve knew that you enjoyed his company, as he did yours, but he was only joking earlier when he gushed about having such an effect on you. It was now his turn to hide his blush, when you hum, nodding your head fervently.
These were the warm moments that confused you so much more than any subject in school ever did. And unbeknownst to you, it messed with Steve's head too. He'd never been this close with anyone before. Especially not with any of his "girlfriends" in the past. Sure, they'd cuddle and talk about their feelings. But it never felt the way it does with you. Steve was in love with you. It was hopeless.
And he had to make it known. Soon. If not, he swore he'd explode.
"Ready to eat?"
"Mhm," you buzzed, untangling yourself from the envelop of Steve. As he pressed his knuckles into the sofa, willing himself up, you reached for the bottle of wine and a glass, but your hand only made it so far until it felt the sting of a petty swipe from the boy next to you. "Ah ah, missy, dinner first. Lord knows how many hours its been since you last ate."
You snorted, "Relax, it hasn't been that long."
"Oh yeah? When was the last time?" He looked at you with raised eyebrows and an expression that said he already knew your answer was going to be ridiculous. And if there was anything you learned tonight, it was that Steve was highly skilled at knowing when you were lying, so instead, you left him with a goofy smile and giggle that told him he was absolutely right in his assumption.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," the spot where he sat went cold as he left to the kitchen, fixing two plates for the both of you. You moved the drinks and glasses over to the dining table, using a nearby lighter to ignite the accompanying lavender and vanilla scented candles. Tina Turner's vinyl was replaced with Tears for Fears' album Songs from The Big Chair instead, as Steve used his elbow to dim the kitchen lights, hands full with heavy plates of pasta.
"Oh my gosh, this looks so good! Good job, Stevie," you cheered, as he set your plate down in front of you, pouring you a much needed glass of wine. Your hands shook with hunger or excitement, or both, as you picked up your fork, ready to dig in. "Yeah, don't get too psyched yet. Let's hope it tastes as good as it looks."
"I'm sure it does."
His knee rests against yours as he sits adjacent to you, gathering food on his fork, though his eyes are peering at you, awaiting your verdict. The mouthwatering smell of garlic, butter, cheese and other heaven-sent elements overwhelm your nose and you feel like you can't eat it soon enough. You pause for a beat and so does his heart, hand over your messy mouth as you chew. Steve's hand twitches as he contemplates wiping the sauce from the corners of your lips and licking his finger clean.
"Steve," you begin, eyes flickering shut. "I'm gonna need you to cook for me every night. This is so fucking good." The tension in his face eases at your palpable delight, mission well accomplished. He was proud of himself. Very proud. Almost as much as you were of him.
You throw your head back, the purest form of satisfaction consuming you. "I'm glad you like it, I've been trying to nail it for weeks," Steve laughs, finally taking a bite for himself.
"Well, you've succeeded," you beam, washing it down with a sip of wine. Everybody Wants to Rule the World begins playing and you smile at Steve, knowing it was his favorite song at the moment. You nod your head along as Steve hums. A truly peaceful pocket in time.
Through the large windows opening the living room to the rest of Hawkins, you had the perfect view of the bright lights and mountainous buildings from the neighboring city. It was like the sky had flipped on its axis and the stars weren't in the sky anymore, they were among the trees and high rise properties.
"Steve, look how pretty," you point towards the window as his gaze shifts from you to raindrop-riddled glass. "I love being able to see the city so close. Sucks that we can't see the stars, though. I've always wanted to go stargazing."
"Yeah, I remember you mentioning that a while ago. We gotta go one of these days," he replied, shoving a forkful of alfredo into his mouth.
"Oh, did you wanna go too?"
He shrugs his shoulders, chewing before speaking, "Eh, I'm not really a big stars guy. Besides, if I wanna see a pretty little light, all I gotta do is look at you," he says inattentively, going right back to eating as if he hadn't just said the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you.
"Shut up, Harrington," you roll your eyes, letting out a half-hearted laugh as you take your last bite. How could he flirt with you so easily? So carelessly? Couldn't he see that you loved him and that whenever he says things like that it does something to you? Clueless boy.
"I'm serious. Why do you think I always call you sunshine?" He replies, not a hint of irony in his face.
"Steve," you warn, sitting back in your chair. You didn't know where this conversation was going, and you'd be damned if you got your hopes up for what you always got whenever you did: absolutely nothing.
"It's why I love when you wear yellow. Reminds me of the first time I ever saw you," he pressed. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Clueless girl.
"Steve," your voice wavered. "What? Why do you keep saying my name like that?" He laughed, dryly.
He grew worried that he was saying too much. Saying things that a person shouldn't say to their best friend. He took a sip of his wine. Then another. Then another. He was considering just downing the whole glass. Maybe he was saying too much.
Screw that, he was in love with you.
"What're you saying to me right now?" You charged, voice a little harsher than what you'd intended, but you demanded an answer. A straightforward one. "I'm saying that I'm done hiding it."
"Hiding what?"
"That I love you."
The revelation yanks your parted lips shut, unsure of what to say next. You had dreamed for what felt like a lifetime for Steve to say those words to you and at last, it was no longer a dream, but instead reality. The rapid pace of your heartbeat could be felt in your chest and ears, and the butterflies in your stomach were more wild and untamed than ever before.
Steve's eyes didn't leave yours, though the stillness from you was killing him. The silence between you two that was once never awkward or unusual, was now painful and nearly unbearable.
Your dilated pupils scanned over his face, relentlessly. The jokey, teasing grin that he often sported when he was messing with you was unaccounted for. Holy shit. The gate to your thoughts opened once more. "You're serious," you whispered.
"How could I not be?" Steve watched you with adoring eyes, the warm light of the candle giving the melted chocolatey pond the sweetest infusion of honey.
"Kiss me."
Forks and butter knives fall to the ground with several, loud unpleasant clanks as Steve leans over the square dining table, hungrily pressing his lips against yours. His lips are garlicky and a little chapped, as yours probably are as well, yet the kiss is nothing short of perfect.
His mouth does a passionate dance against yours as you follow his lead, embracing the plush little pillows with your own. It was both everything you've imagined it'd be and nothing like you'd thought at the same time. You already knew Steve was an amazing kisser. Anyone who went to Hawkins High knew it. But experiencing it for yourself was completely different and new. It was euphoric.
The two of you have to reluctantly pull yourselves off of each other to catch your breaths. This moment was a long time coming.
Steve's hands are still holding onto to either side of your face, unwilling to let you go just yet. Truly savoring every second of the present. His breath fans across your cupid's bow, as he smiles against your lips. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"
Giggling, you wrap your palms and fingers around his wrists, rubbing your nose on his. "Sorry," you shrug, feeling his thumbs caress your warm cheeks.
"Don't be," he shakes his head, engulfing your soft lips into another kiss.
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message from jojo: pls comment and reblog if you enjoyed! it means a lot <3
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anikaluv · 11 months
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I'LL ACCEPT YOU —
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❤︎︎ pairing: Miles (e!42) × fem!reader
❤︎︎ genre: fluff
❤︎︎ cw:  suggestive, nudes, Mrs. Morales a lil mean to reader at first (motherly instinct at its finest)
❤︎︎ summary: You were at the dinner table, meeting Miles' mom for the first time, when he excused himself to use the bathroom. As you sat there you noticed a polaroid picture of your breasts on the phone case that Miles had left behind. Now, you had to figure out how to explain this unexpected and embarrassing situation to his mother.
❤︎︎ w/c: 2.1k
❤︎︎ a/n: Everyone describes about how you and Rio would be best friends, but ion know, I feel like she’ll be a little skeptical about you like she was with Gwen in the movie. It's her little boy we’re talking about here. <3
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Today was the day you finally met Miles' mother, the most important person in his life.
You wished you could have met her sooner, but her demanding schedule at the hospital made it impossible until now, after seven months of dating Miles. You had plenty of time to think about what to say and do, but it didn't stop the nerves from fluttering in your stomach.
"Baby, you'll be fine," Miles reassured you, rubbing your back affectionately. He knew how much meeting his mother weighed on your mind, but he had no doubt that the two of you would get along. As he rang the doorbell, he placed his hand on your waist. "She'll love you, promise."
Though you nodded in response to his kind words, your mind still raced with anxiety. You understood the importance of this dinner and were determined not to mess things up. Your hands started to rub against your jeans, becoming sweaty from the nervousness.
The door creaked open slowly, revealing Mrs. Morales herself, wearing a kitchen apron around her waist. She immediately looked towards Miles, speaking as if you weren't there. "Miles! What's taken you so long to come home? You know you can't-" It was then she finally realized your presence.
She paused mid-sentence, turning her attention to you, giving you a quick up-and-down glance that made you feel insecure about your outfit choice. You knew you should’ve went with the sweater instead of this stupid T-Shirt. "Oh? Hello there, who are you?" she inquired.
Feeling put on the spot, you started to mumble a small introduction, but she asked you to repeat yourself. Before you could gather your thoughts, Miles came to your rescue. "Mamá, este es mi pareja, [your name]” (Mom, this is my lover, [your name] ). Even after Miles introduced you, you could sense that Rio was still on guard, her protective instincts clearly showing proudly.
You held up the little vase of flowers you had bought as a gift for her, feeling a bit on edge as you offered it to her. She took it with a skeptical look in her eyes. " [Your name], it's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Morales," you greeted her politely, extending your hand for a handshake. However, she merely stared at your hand and didn't reciprocate the gesture. Instead, she spoke with a hint of disdain, "Charmed to meet you," leaving you feeling a little embarrassed as you withdrew your hand.
Miles chuckled uncomfortably at the situation and attempted to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Mama! I can smell something from the kitchen all the way from here! Is dinner ready?”, he said, acknowledging the delicious aroma of the food. Like a switch, Rio turned to her son with a warm smile.
“Yes, mi chulo (cutie). I’m almost finished, come eat.” She started to turn around and walk back inside, but then paused and turned her head, giving you a cold stare that seemed to pierce through your soul. “Ah, and you too, I suppose.” You felt a pang of disappointment as you looked at Miles, realizing that things were going downhill so quickly.
He met your gaze with hopeful eyes and spoke to you, "She just needs to get to know you, that's all." It was meant to reassure you, and while you appreciated his support, you couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling in your heart. You sighed deeply.
This was going to be a very long night.
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The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, you’ve been eating for 30 minutes and it was just, awkward.
You could sense Mrs. Morales' disapproval lingering. Miles did his best to ease the atmosphere, cracking jokes and attempting to bridge the gap between you and his mother. However, it seemed that no matter what he did, Mrs. Morales remained distant.
You tried to engage in small talk and show genuine interest in her life, but your efforts seemed futile. Mrs. Morales gave brief responses and didn't seem interested in getting to know you at all. You felt like you were walking on eggshells, afraid to say or do anything that might upset her.
Miles held your hand tightly the whole time, providing you with a comforting anchor as you navigated the tense conversation. Rubbing small circles into your hand as you clenched his tightly every time you were being shot down in discussion . Miles was your rock, he supported you and helped you through everything. You were so grateful that he was always there-
“Hey, ill be right back, I have to use the bathroom.”
What the hell?
Mrs. Morales lifted her head from her food and nodded at him, “Okay, honey.”, however, you weren’t so ecstatic at the idea of Miles leaving you alone with his mother.
"Miles, what on earth are you thinking?" you whisper-shouted to him, panic evident in your voice. He chuckled at your anxious tone. "You'll be fine, trust me, mami. Here, I'll leave my phone here so you know I won't take long." Miles placed his phone on the table, but you couldn't spare it a glance, too busy giving him a look filled with betrayal. "I'll be right back," he reassured, leaving a tender kiss on your temple before standing up and excusing himself one last time.
“Well this is just great”, you thought. Your plate was finished 15 minutes ago, so you’ve just been with talking to Miles and trying to include Rio in you two's conversations, but now that he’s not here, you’ve settled at twirling your food on your fork.
Suddenly, Mrs. Morales cleared her throat loudly, catching your attention. Your neck snapped up weakly to meet her gaze. She crossed her arms, her posture becoming more assertive. "So, what exactly are your intentions with my son?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow in a challenging manner. Your posture straightened, and you swallowed nervously, your mind going blank. Desperately searching for something to focus on other than Rio's piercing gaze, your eyes landed on Miles' phone case.
That's when you noticed it.
Sat inside Miles clear phone case was a polaroid of your breasts. You gasped seeing the picture, trying to figure out when Miles even did this. It showed them cupped by Miles hand, nipples erect and outward, with bruises left by him all over your skin. You body instantly flushed, how long has Miles phone been sitting on the table? Has Rio seen it?
"Hey, what's that?" Rio asked, her voice pulling you back to the present moment. You realized you had completely forgotten about the current situation, causing you to hastily flip the phone to the other side and let out a nervous "Nothing!" You hoped to divert her attention, but Rio remained unfazed, her gaze fixed on your phone.
"Is that a picture of you on the back of Miles' phone case? That's… cute. Let me see," she said, her curiosity getting the better of her. Your heart skipped a beat, panic setting in.
You knew you couldn't let her see that polaroid. "No! You can't! It's really… embarrassing," you mumbled, your hand instinctively scratching the back of your neck as you tried to sound as convincing as possible.
In response, you could see Rio's eyebrows raise, her interest piqued even more. You knew things were getting out of hand but before you can attempt to change the subject, Rio stops you.
“Wait, is that what I think it is?”
Your heart rate spiked; did she figure it out? You were certain she'd be furious. The mere thought of not being with Miles was unbearable. These rapid thoughts flooded your mind, each one appearing before the last could finish. Before you could answer, you heard Rio burst into laughter.
"Dios mio (Oh my god)…that's hilarious!" The cold demeanor she once had towards you melted away as quickly as it came. You joined in her laughter, relieved that she didn't seem mad about the situation. The bonding moment between the two of you felt genuine and comforting. You had expected her to be more strict, but her laughter was a welcome surprise.
As the tension subsided, Rio looked into your eyes with warmth, a smile lighting up her face. "Jeff used to do that too, take embarrassing pictures of me hang them up in his room. I can see why you're embarrassed. You probably made a really silly face, huh?" You nodded along with her until she reached the last sentence. She thought the picture on the phone case was of you making a silly face?
You laughed awkwardly, shifting in your chair as you tried to play it off. “Yeah! I was making a really foolish face in there, haha.” Your hands waved around dramatically trying the explain the picture to her, anything you made up immediately coming out of your lips. She chuckled at your dramatic performance.
She shook her head taking a sip of the tea she made, “That boy and his tricks, he reminds me more of Jeff everyday…”. Her face slowly turned toward a framed picture of the three of them. Jeff having Miles in a headlock rubbing his head while they’re both laughing, Rio smiling as she took the picture.
The memory depicted a happy and complete family, and you could see the love in Rio's eyes as she looked at the photo. She turned back to you, her tone delicate, filled with the fear of losing her son again. "My son can't lose another person," she whispered.
Rio placed her hand on the table, leaning forward to speak directly to you. "Just promise me you'll always be there for my boy, and I'll accept you," she said, her words sincere and heartfelt. You placed your hand gently on top of hers and replied, "I intend to be there for him until his last day, Ms. Morales." The seriousness in your voice conveyed your commitment.
Rio hummed, processing your response, and then smiled, sitting back into her chair content with your answer. Maybe you were the one who could make this broken family complete again, she thought.
As Miles walked back into the room after using the bathroom, he immediately sensed the warm and playful atmosphere between you and his mother. He sat back in his chair, casually draping his arm around your neck, joining the conversation. "What did I miss out on?" he asked with a playful tone. Both you and Rio exchanged knowing smirks, teasing him with a simple "nothing," which only made Miles grin even wider.
As you answered Rio's questions about you and Miles relationship, Miles let you and her bond and decided to bring his phone out on the table and scroll through social media, accidentally leaving the back in Rio's line of vision. Suddenly, you heard Rio gasp loudly and choke on her tea, causing you to exchange concerned glances with Miles. Worried about what had happened, both of you turned your attention to where she was looking; realizing what had caused her reaction, you both fell silent.
Rio now had a lot of more questions than before.
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EXTRA: You screamed at Miles as soon as you left the Morales home, play hitting him as he chuckled at your rage.
You screamed at Miles to keep going as you clenched the sheets as he layed kisses and bites all over your chest. Every bite harder than the last then met with kisses and whispers of sweet nothings that had you on the edge of losing your mind.
“Miles, how could you do that! You made me so scared!”, you complained. Holding his hand as he walked you home. Pouting as he laughed at you not taking you seriously.
“Miles, how are you doing that? You’re making me feel so good!”, you babbled, mumbling little praises to Miles as he marked you, pinching your nipples as you wiggled in his grasp with your wrists held above your head.
You couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore as he tickled you. “C’mon, ma. Don’t make that face at me. I’m sorry, really.” He bent down and kissed your cheek as you crossed your arms at him.
You couldn’t hold in your moans anymore as he made you his. You were almost there but you felt Miles shift and get up and come back with a object in his hands as you continued to squirm.
“You just looked so pretty mami, I had to memorize it.” Miles flashes his signature grin at you. You couldn't stay mad at him, he was too handsome, you'll just have to get back at home some other way.
“You just look so pretty mami, I have to memorize it.” The camera flashes, capturing your beauty perfectly as Miles grins, carefully placing the polaroid on his desk, for safekeeping, at least for now.
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ENDING A/N: I DIDNT MEAN TO MAKE RIO THAT MEAN LMAOOO, but I feel like its also a lil cannon yk? After losing the love of her life, Miles is the only one she has left so yeah, she’s gonna be protective as hell over him. 
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TAGLIST: @janaeby @bellstwd @nmgstuff @axeoverblade @zaddyskye69 @agstuffsworld @spidrstar @laylasbunbunny @missusmorales @popeheywardssecretgf @lumineliax
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missydior · 4 days
Text
LOVE LETTERS ౨ৎ
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♡: an eternity of silent, mutual yearning and friendship that flourishes into something new when feelings are finally confessed.
notes: charles leclerc/reader, friends to lovers, swearing, humour, fluff, confessions, subtlest suggestive content right at the end but for reader interpretation <3
type: smau & writing ・ fc: lila moss
a/n: my favourite trope ever mwah 🤍🤍 this feels a little messy and stuff but I had a lot of fun writing it and hope you feel the love all over it I have, ily
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liked by friendusername, charlesleclerc and 313,983 others
yourusername: hello from the birthday girl here <3 thank you so much for all of the kind messages, wishes & gifts. sending lots of love
3,122 comments
friendusername: happy bday to our favourite girl ever 🍰🫶🏼
yourusername: 🤍🤍🤍
user1: happy birthday to our favourite paddock princessss
charlesleclerc: did you like the cake I bought you then, or?
yourusername: I loved it until you threw half of it in my face
charlesleclerc: it tasted nicer that way
franciscagomes: bday girl !!
yourusername: i love youu
franciscagomes: i love you more 🤍
pierregasly: what about me?
franciscagomes: today is about y/n. shush.
I. Your Birthday.
After hours spent with café au lait and too much maple syrup on pancakes in the morning with gift receiving and wishes, a quiet luncheon with those closest to your heart, enjoying the beauty of the shores and rosé champagne, evening eventually settles in a beautiful colour against the heavens of Monaco.
You have never been one for the dramatics or high attention of crowds, settling on an intimate celebratory affair amongst close friends and family: pretty dresses and glasses of Lavender French '75 or those strawberry daiquiris that Ésme is in love with; a sweet, favourite song heard in the background.
Charles arrives fashionably late, the collar of his white-linen shirt loosened and soft, dark-brunet hair slightly tousled as he comes near, the sight of a smile on his face you've always loved, dimples revealed.
There is a certain relief that comes with being graced by his presence, like you had been silently longing and waiting for his greeting before anybody else's, though you disguise it from any chance of teasing.
"(Y/N)," Your name rolls off his tongue like caramel, accentuated as he shifts to kiss both your cheeks in friendly affection before he chuckles at your expression, "Happy birthday." Mon ange.
"Thank you," You breathe, a laugh falling past your mouth at the sight of him in manifestation, inclining your head when you look at him through your lashes, "I was beginning to think you forgot."
"Forget? Me?" The Monegasque exclaims as though wounded, placing his hand to his chest though the smile about his sun-kissed visage never dissipates, stealing a nearby glass of champagne, "Never. I had some work to finish."
There is an edge of teasing beneath your looks, a dance of butterflies in your stomach when he touches the small of your back fleetingly as he shifts past with that signature wink of his, all friendly and humorous in years of friendship, and yet your heart stutters.
You almost say something else, confessions and thoughts that want to erupt from your chest like love letters you have never sent – certain it is merely the liquor fogging your judgement – but he's wandered away with a final promise before a syllable can come forth.
"Let me get the birthday girl a drink, oui?"
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liked by franciscagomes and 311,646 others
yourusername: july with my favourite people <3
mentioned charlesleclerc, friendusername, franciscagomes and two others
1,354 comments
user1: literal angels
user2: second pic is definitely y/n and charles
friendusername: you still owe me another ice cream 🍨
yourusername: sorry bby, i’ll be at your front door with a double vanilla ice cream soon <3
franciscagomes: 🤍🤍
II. At the beach.
Warm light kisses your skin like heavenly delight, a forgotten copy of Paris' Vogue beside where you are currently bathing with a finished strawberry lemonade, long lashes fluttering when you open your eyes to gaze at the skies above in the heat of July, a mosaic of white and cerulean about the Côte d'Azur.
Most of the others have momentarily departed for the nearby café for new sweet treats, though you are consciously aware of a half-dozing Charles Leclerc nearby against the slight flush down the bridge of his nose and eyelashes that ghost about his cheekbones where he is lying.
Pure bliss; perfect heaven.
"Charles?"
It takes him a second, the mention of his name rousing him to blink out of a hazy hint of a dream with the tilt of his chin towards the direction of your voice that calls to him like an angel's symphony, squinting against the haze of light before a lazy, boyish smile reveals his pearlescent teeth, "Mm?"
Shifting upright, consciously trying not to stare at him for too long though you have come to simply welcome and fall used to the sight of his naked chest, all smooth ridges and lean muscle, you absently adjust the ribbons of your pretty bikini and reach for sun cream.
"Do you think you could help me put some on my back, please?" You ask politely, offering him the item whilst shifting on your knees and gathering the edges of your hair over your shoulder that have fallen loose.
He does not respond initially, not until he's sat upright and shifted closer with a kind edge of a smile that dances across his face, "Oui."
Charles does not hesitate or take advantage of the circumstances, applying the fine lotion against the curve of your shoulders with gentle ministrations and lower down, fingertips feather-light, careful not to linger too long.
The act feels oddly intimate as you gaze towards the serene shores, like his touch is meant for the most secret parts of you, an unconscious shiver and the subtle arching of your vertebrae when he traces a particular area. Whether he notices or not, there is no indication given, instead continuing in a method that seems entirely platonic but leaves an ache in your stomach.
"Merci," You tell him once the deed is most finished and he draws away, shifting just enough to offer a look of him from the corner of your eye in a gratuitous smile.
You wonder if how his gaze lingers is the same way yours does, like a painting worth admiring or a flower in emergence, heart thrumming quicker under your sternum before the moment is broken when he clears his throat.
"Of course."
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III. A dinner.
Caffè Milano, a quaint but fanciful and warm establishment tucked in the quiet luxuries of Monaco's principality with its dancing chandeliers, oak-varnished furniture and beloved menu.
A semblance of familiarity, pleasantry and polished glasses clinking against the rhythm of conversation amongst friends in the warm afternoon: a lingering aroma of roses from the centrepiece décor neatly arranged and fine cuisine.
"– Non, I am not lying," Pierre is recounting a recent, humorous anecdote of experience, thumb idly tracing the edge of his wine glass whilst you and the others listen on, your cheeks beginning to hurt from how much you have laughed in the recent half-an hour, idly toying with the necklace resting at the hollow of your throat in common fashion.
"You are." Francisca frowns, albeit fondly.
Your concentration is removed from their talk when there is a subtle caress against the ankle bone, a touch beneath the furniture and a fleeting glance from your peripheral sight at the Monégasque beside you, all handsome smiles and that addictive song of laughter whilst a stray hair falls about his eyebrow, though he does not seem to show any degree of deliberation or notice that his shoe idly touches you there.
You have the urge to hold him, caress him, to press a thousand, butterfly kisses along his jaw and say something you should not. Instead, you continue to listen and nurse the last of your Château-Chalon.
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f1gossip: y/n at the grand prix this weekend <3 our paddock princess is back
mentioned yourusername
333 comments
user1: she looks divineee
user2: charles and y/n friends to lovers when?
user3: leave them alone, they’re just friends and have been since childhood
IV. A balcony.
Charles had forgotten his keys somewhere and, until his dear brother could come and return them, you had offered the warmth of your welcomed apartment: all minimalist but homely in décor against a palette of cream, white and the like all complemented by paintings and furniture.
One hour had melted into two by the late afternoon with dusk's slow kiss, hints of lilac and grey in the edge of the skies, your cats curled contently on the plush chaise lounge and resting after endless affections from the Monégasque who seemed to be in love with them.
"Can I join you?"
The voice – honest and clear, albeit a fraction amused – is recognisable as you are drawn out of reverie on the balcony of rocaille motifs, gazing into quiet streets below and the nearby public gardens flourishing with flora, gnawing at your inner cheek as you look to the man where he leans against the threshold, a look in his eye that comes with a subtle indulgence after he stole your favourite bottle of rosé in the kitchenette.
"Of course, yes." Always.
He stands beside you, a few inches apart with his elbow resting against the intricate balustrade when he follows your dreamy stare for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. There is a comfort between the two of you, something you know must come from years of familiarity:
An seemingly endless, innocent youth that manifested in its complications as you aged and neared adolescence, like an evening primrose that flowers and sometimes falls apart, but always returns, even changing with senescence. With age.
You can feel his gaze, almost like an internal, silent imploration for your own, the edges of your fingers and nails polished in a rose quartz-esque varnish that glitters prettily in the evening, and his lips are parted just enough as if wanting to say something before they curve a little higher on the edges, his words hushed.
"Have you ever thought about love?"
Your eyebrows raise a fraction, though it is not so unexpected of a question and one that has been on the edge of your tongue since forever, even with the doubtful inkling that he has merely enjoyed too much wine.
"Sometimes," All of the time. You murmur, a soft, breathless chuckle following as you shrug and tilt your head upwards, gazing above like some wished answer or instruction from the angels or whoever listens, "Why do you ask?"
"Because," His response is delayed, though his answer is sincere and thoughtful like he has been thinking over his words since a time he can't remember until his fingertips touch your elbow fleetingly, "I can't stop thinking about it."
There is a moment, a single fragment, in which you meet his eyes, his touch is known and everything seems to pause like a finished painting, a still image in a history book: his hand, his body and his eyes – the colour of autumn, earth, hints of something else so unique to him.
"Charles, what are you saying?" You laugh softly, looking away momentarily and toying with the knitted wool of your soft cardigan with the kind of feigned indifference that comes with disguising truth, "I didn't think you were a romantic, who has caught your eye?"
For a moment, you wish he would say someone's name, a blessed girl that you have never heard of, so that you can deny your own feelings and settle on the painful reality that you are merely friends.
Instead, his gaze flickers, almost nervously, and a palm cradles the curve of your cheek and jaw with the hesitance of a man of conflicting considerations even when he tries to smile a little. "Please, forgive me."
There is not an instance given to allow any insistence or inquiry as Charles presses a kiss upon your mouth: it is not rushed and there is a desperation there that is not greedy, tasting the remnants of your lipstick and rosé, slow and methodical – longer when you indulge and welcome the feeling.
He does not draw away completely when the feeling ends, his forehead lightly pressed to yours and his touch a little firmer where his fingers curl into your hair, swallowing slowly as his eyes close for a moment until he dares meet your stare once more.
"(Y/N)?"
You smile.
"Je t'aime." There is something in his face you have never seen before, something raw and open like an unfurling rose revealing itself, and you know that your heart is his and his alone.
Another kiss with your prompting, fingertips tracing the soft cotton of his shirt near the shoulder until you drape arms about his shoulders, breathing him in with hints of raspberry, amber and cinnamon, "I love you."
There is poetry in his eyes like those unsent love letters shoved under your pillow, and he delves in, holding you close and intimate until you're most certain, mutually, of the silent yearning you have felt for one another for years.
"C'mere," He mumbles, an arm drawing around the back of your thighs as he picks you up and holds you securely, and you cannot help but laugh in pure, unadulterated glee at his touch and affections, the bottle of rosé abandoned as the night settles in and you are whisked away.
He loves you.
He loves you.
♡ ✧ 。*・.
© missydior
a/n: please don't forget to interact, like, etc. <3
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pedge-page · 5 months
Text
Joel dealing with Preggo Wife # 7: House Pet
Can be read with others in series or standalone
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Warnings: unprotected sex, slight Daddy kink, suggestive of oral M receiving, annoying reader and annoyed Joel
18 + ONLY
- - - -
You watch one depressing commercial of shivering dogs left emaciated in the cold begging for love and care, and all the water in your entire body comes flooding out in tears.
“J-j-j"—snUFFF—“JOeeeOEeeeoelllLLLL!!!" You wail, wiping your snot on his shirt sleeve while curled up against him. “THEY NWEEEDDD MWEEEEE!!!!”
“You wanna donate?”
N-d—nooo--“sniffle—“wanna -wa-wanna aa-ad-ad-opt—“
He chuckles like its some obvious joke, but when he sees the absolute shine in your giant eyes staring pleadingly at him, he puts his foot down as gently as possible: “Honey, we can’t have a dog right now. With you—being like this, and a baby on the way, I’ve got enough on my plate as is. Wanna make sure you and babygirl are well taken care of first, okay?”
There’s a tense silence hanging in the air as you seize a breath in your throat. 
And then you’re LOSING IT, whining and crying like a child into his face.
“Jesus,” he mumbles softly, gently stroking your hair, hushing little shhhhh into your forehead and rocking you in his arms like a baby in a cradle— a giant baby stuffed with another baby currently rattling the emotions of the big baby.
 He's given you a cup of water for bed and tucking you in, picking up the litany of tissues tossed around you, while you refuse to quit your puffy eye’d and endless barrage of tears. 
By the next morning, swollen lids yet calm, he thought he’d heard the last of it last night. And you were doing much better mood wise—no cries, though a little cold shoulder to him. He gives you a few hours till you’re over it and asking for ice cream like nothing happened. 
Until now, five days later where every minute is just a retort to his face about getting a dog.
When you best friend comes over to give you extra baby clothes:
"Aww your girl named her puppy Winston? That's so adorable! Joel, ya hear that??” You peak loudly so he can hear from the kitchen. “Too bad I don’t have a puppy named Winston.”
"When you have our daughter, she can get a puppy named Winston"
"Oh! Already picking her over me for getting a dog?"
He rolls his eyes, tuning out to focus on making you biscuits that are too salty so you’ll have something else to whine about.
-
During movie night:
“…If only I had a dog to help keep my feet warm on the couch.”
He shovels a fist full of popcorn into his tilted back, wide mouth. “‘At’s what a blanket’s for.” he yanks your favorite soft one over your toes and keeps his eyes on the TV.
-
To the neighbor that just fucking moved in two weeks ago:
"Joel doesn't kiss me enough. If I had a dog, I wouldn't complain as much since the pup would love me unconditionally."
He grits his teeth, excusing himself to the bathroom.
-
At Tommy’s place for a Sunday BBQ:
“Bought the wood second hand—I re constructed our living room myself,” he says braggingly, drawing a beer from the cooler.
"Yeah, Tommy, it’s real nice.” You charm, and you can already see Joel's fist clench at his side. “Would look even better with a dog in the window."
-
“Wish I had a fluffy dog to cuddle instead of your big ass."
-
"My husband spoils me so much. He usually gets me anything I want without asking! Unless it's a dog ..."
-
Joel finishing adding furniture to the baby room.
"You know what else this room could use?” 
"A dog bed, a dog blanket, a dog.”
-
"If you say-one more-god damn thing-about the dog..." he huffs.
"What dog? We don't even have a dog."
"We don't-need one. Got a cat in the house already."
He thrusts in again with a grunt, your trail of thought disappearing for a second just as Joel’s fat cock penetrates you.
 The two of you are lying sideways on the bed, his chest pressed flush against your back. With your leg just barely propped up with his masculine arm hooked under your knee, a hand splayed protectively over your big belly, he has enough room to slot his length into your achy sopping cunt, slowly fucking you with harsh little jolts. You grip the back of his neck, fingers clutched in his sweaty locks, feeling his hot breath dampening your collar. 
He lets out a pained hiss. “This lil pussy right here is all the animal I can handle now. Now quit it.”
His hips begin to crash lightly over your ass, rutting his tip deeper into you with muffled slaps. He loves the sight of your now largely grown thighs jiggling with each impact. Loves the feeling of your swollen breasts suffocating his other hand. Loves the knowledge of his wife so stuffed full of him for everyone to see. 
You moan lightly, clenching around him at the leisure, unhurried yet pent up pleasure coursing through you. But your mind wonders again. “If you don't want a rescue we can get a certain breed: How about a malnoise? Or something smaller like a corgi? Or aussie. Oh Pitties are so cute!"
He rolls his eyes, nose buried in your hair. How are you even able to have a coherent conversation right now while he's rearranging your guts? Rather than hushing you with another quit it, he decides to entertain you. "Jesus woman. Ain't pitties all mean?"
"Nooooo —mmm baby, right there—“ you whine, panting in sync as you lowly try to hump him back. “Protective, intimidating looking.” You smile, mouth agape and eyes closed when he hits that sweet spot deep inside.  “Just—like you, big ol sweethearts…Who give their wives exactly what they fucking want—like a dog."
“Christ.” The hand from under your leg glides over your wet clit, his rough digits rubbing fast circles while his other free arm  unfolds from under your throat to grip it lightly. His knees bend so he can rock just his hips with ferocious power, railing with the intent to fuck you so dumb, you can’t help but shut up. “One more peep and I'm switching us up and gonna fuck you like one.”
You really didn’t want to —resorting to this lounging position because your back hurt too much to be fucked doggy, and the baby weighed too heavily to ride him. Thank God his cock was fucking huge—it could reach deep into you at any position. No fucking wonder you got pregnant so easily. 
“no- no Daddy, I'll be good," you hum. "Unfff—mmm-yeah—yeah! Fuuuck—fuck me baby that’s it!” You shout. Joel’s hand works endlessly on your little nub, now at the mercy of his ministrations to get you off since you can’t reach yourself anymore. You grip your belly and cry, walls convulsing around his meat with a much needed orgasm. Joel follows suit not too long after, biting your shoulder as his hips still against your ass, pumping you full of his pearly cum.
The two of you stay in the same position, breathing heavily as you come down from your respective highs. 
His eyes close, breath slowing and getting deeper in relaxation as his fingers lightly dance over your swole bump.
You feel the gentle cooling breeze of the fan spinning above you. Sighing contently now filled with your husband’s love and caressed with his tender hands. 
 “…So I was thinking, when we get a dog..."
"WE ARE NOT GETTIN’ A DOG AND THAT’S FINAL."
-
Tommy comes over and can tell something is up between you two.  When Joel leaves the room, he asks "so what is it this week with Joel?"
"He won't get me--what do you mean THIS week??"
"Nothing nothing, he won't get you a what?"
"A dog. I want a dog. He doesn’t want a dog. So I don’t understand why he can’t compromise and get a dog.”
He laughs. “Honey, cuz that’s not a compromise. You know why he won't get you one, right?"
"Cuz he doesn't want to take care of me, a baby, and the dog at the same time"
"Nah. He's worried you'll only want the dog’s affection, and the baby gets the rest of your attention. Then you won’t have anything left for him.”
“…Oh!"
-
Later that night, Joel is still steaming from your earlier conversation after sex, having no regard for listening to another thing you had to say the rest of the day. You waddle into the bedroom, looking apologetic as possible with your hands held behind your back. He only looks up from the bed to see you: in his large T shirt with nothing else, freshly lavender scented from your bath, and big pleading child-like eyes full of sorrow. He purses his lips before returning to his book, glasses perched on his nose.
You approach Joel with an apology gift that you hid behind your back: a stuffed wolf.
He smiles gently unable to even pretend to hold his temper against you. you kiss the tip of his nose as he caresses your smoothed bump. “You're my favorite dog anyway,” you say warmly. “Needy. Grumpy. Likes food. Gives me kisses."
“Thought I didn’t give ya enough kisses? Least that’s what you told neighbor.”
“That was—a lie.” You bat your eyes cutely. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Mmmm,” is all he says, his eyes raking over your curves just barely covered now due to your size. “I don’t know, Daddy might need more apologies — ya did treat me real bad this week.”
You hum sadly, nuzzling yourself against his chest. your hand trails down his firm middle, all the way to the growing tent sticking up from his boxers.
“I can lick it better,” you whisper seductively in his ear, nipping at his pulse point.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
And after one of your famous deep throated blow job with Joel's balls happily emptied in your already full belly, he leans over to his side table and pulls the drawer open, holding something tight in his hand.
You just barely stop yourself from falling asleep with your head on his lap when he dangles a dog collar above your head. You sit up, inspecting it with grubbing hands: it has your home address etched on to the metal plate, but no name on it. 
“What you want me to be your dog? I’ll wear the collar but I’m not getting on my knees, nor crawling around and drinking from dog bowls  and shitting in the yard—“
“No angel,” he shushes you. Although the image of you wearing the collar, naked and heavily pregnant on your knees in front of him wasn’t a bad idea at all…he shakes his head from the delusion. ”Aint for you. Thought about it—but ONLY after have the baby and are settled, and ya know IF —and that’s a mighty big if—we find one that’s not too rough shape, got a good sense about ‘im, then MAYBE I’ll consider it.”
"Oh my god! Thank you! Thankyouthankyou--"
"I said IF sweetheart. Got along road ahead till then."
"I'll give you as many blow jobs as you want."
"You already do that for yourself."
"Yeah but... how about I sit on your face? Fully?"
His ears perk up. "Yeah?"
"After the baby is born," you quip, smirking with more confidence then your swollen body can muster trying to wiggle away from his grasp like a devious chubby oompa lumpa. He just laughs to himself as you slip down the bed, and the sudden urge to pee has you B-lining to the bathroom.
- - - -
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riaki · 5 months
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haii >:3 i was wondering of you could write a thing on if reader was a classmatw of gojo when they were in jujutsu tech? ur hsbullt gojo was really well written 💗
sorry if i sound rude, im not familiar with how tumblr works ;(
hey there!! thank u sm for ur ask nonnie ! hope this is good... and don’t worry!!!! ur perfectly fine my love 🤍
classmates | satoru gojo x reader cw: calls u princess, swearing
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1:34PM. 5/21/06 - JUJUTSU TECH GYM - more than friends, less than lovers
"fucking hell, satoru!" you rub your head slowly, gritting your teeth as pain hammers the side of your skull; feels like a bruise is going to form, and you’re pretty sure you have basketball line marks on your face.
satoru jogs over to you, the rubber soles of his shoes squeaking on the gym floor. there's that pesky grin on his lips again, and his eyes shine, a vibrant glow of youth. he’s not apologetic at all, you think with gritted teeth. he slows to a stop a few yards away from you, a panting, sweaty mess, yet you find yourself irritably drawn to him either way. he shoots you a quick wink, fanning himself with his shirt in a way that lets the dip of his hip expose itself to the musty air of the gym. a droplet of sweat slides down his skin, and your face burns.
"yo! pass me that ball, [name]." he waves an eager hand towards you, and you roll your eyes, tossing the basketball in his direction. it lands square on his chest with a thump, eliciting a little ‘oof’ from his lips and pressing the cotton of his shirt against his damp skin. and it sticks, defining his muscles in patches of wet cloth. the summer heat must really be getting to you, because the sound of his voice has your thoughts running far, far away from you.
you’re yanked back into reality when a little huff escapes his glossy lips, wiping his forehead and messing up his soft white hair, stray strands clinging together over his eyes. shoko made away with his sunglasses, which means you’ve got a front seat view of those gorgeous, yet equally uncanny irises. "hey, you've got a solid throw. you should give it a shot, yeah? why not join me 'n suguru for a round—"
“hell no.”
he just laughs at that, haughty and everything you should really learn to hate as he turns on his heel and heads back toward the center of the court, where suguru is waiting with an irked expression on his face.
“suit yourself, princess.” he tosses a wave in your direction of his shoulder, and you raise a hand to your chest, feeling your heart slam against your ribcage.
9:02AM. 11/06/07 - JUJUTSU TECH CLASSROOM - best friends
“so.”
gojo glances at you, as if surprised you broke the silence. you can see your own reflection in the lens of his shades, hiding his gaze from the world. sunlight filters in through the windows; it’s early, a break between classes. it shouldn’t be stuffy in the classroom with the windows open, but it still feels suffocating.
you stare at him, and he stares back from his seat atop your desk. his lips are curved down in that usual unamused look he’s always sporting, but there seems to be weight in his shoulders; a ghost tugging his muscles down, stiffening the muscles in his neck to the point where you wish you could just offer him a massage. but you’re not sure if he’d let you get close enough to ever do that.
“what?” he snaps, glaring at you as he sticks his bottom lip out. at least, you think he’s glaring— it’s been harder to tell lately, what’s on his mind. not that you were ever able to read him easily before, though. he likes to hide.
you kick the leg of the desk he’s sitting on with a foot, sighing and humming to yourself for a moment or two. you don’t see it, but gojo’s expression softens slightly and he looks back up at the ceiling again, callused fingers curling around the edge of the desk. the pale color of his skin makes the veins on his hands more prominent; a subtle, muted blue that makes you want to run a hand over his arm.
the two of you had stopped by a store that morning. you’d bought a cup of coffee and two onigiri for yourselves, but it seems like he’s already finished his. you know right now is the prime time for his appetite to flare up— with adolescence and all, but he doesn’t seem to be eating much. or at least, not from what you can tell.
“here, have this.”
gojo glances down at you once more, letting himself observe you with his full vision; not one that’s always hidden behind a layer of thick black stained glass, meant to absorb the pain and the headaches for him. you, who’s so gentle and soft with him— surely you wouldn’t cause him any sort of aching, if not for the one inside the cavity of his chest. it takes him a moment to realize you’re holding out something to him— your onigiri, half eaten. there’s a shriveled little plum showing, burrowed between the layers of sticky rice and dry seaweed wrappings.
he’s uncharacteristically silent as he grabs it from you, the crinkle of the plastic wrapping the only noise in the world as he stares at it for a moment before starting to eat. his cheek puffs when he starts chewing; the bob of his adam’s apple in his throat when he swallows makes it hard for you to stifle a smile. even with the weight of all he’s carrying, gojo still manages to look like a child every now and then. you can’t help but think he’s grown up too fast.
you let a moment of silence pass, stealing a long glance at him as he busies himself with his half of the rice ball, wolfing it down.
“i know i cant offer much to you, satoru…” you started quietly; tenderly, if he listened closely. the way you say his name makes his throat constrict in a way he’s not familiar with.
“…but if you ever need something— anything— i’ll be here. plus, i never finish my onigiri anyway. so you can have the half i don’t eat,” you laughed, closing your eyes and listening to the morning breeze outside. gojo takes the opportunity to observe you; the soft curve of your cheeks, the way your lashes curl, the soft fade of your full lips at the edges and the hair that frames your face.
you can feel his eyes on you, but you let him get away with it. it feels like an infinite eternity goes by before his voice finally cuts through the thick air.
“…have you been resting? the bags under your eyes are darker than usual.” he pokes at you, shifting again, but you seem to revel in the comfortable familiarity of his banter; something that makes his heart ache in a way only you elicit from him. the way you pull at his heart strings is so natural and easy that it’s unnatural to ignore.
“probably more than you have,” you teased. gojo sniffles, and you chalk it up to the seasonal illnesses.
2:46AM. 12/07/08 - JUJUTSU TECH DORMS - ?
it’s half past two in the morning when you get gojo’s text. or, more accurately, the one you forced him to send when he returned from his mission.
m done. u can come pver
he looks a little too much like a zombie when you knock on the door of his dorm and it swings open for you, revealing him in all his tired glory. the bags under his eyes are redder and darker than usual, and his hair is tussled and messy. it’s obvious he hasn’t bothered to clean himself up. his white tee is stained with something damp; his tears, but you don’t dwell on it. there’s a bandaid on the bottom of his jaw; you can see a hint of angry red scrapes peeking out from beneath the beige material.
“you look like shit.”
“are you gonna come in or not?”
you oblige and step inside, the plastic bag in your hand rustling with each movement. it’s a bit loud, and you just pray you don’t get caught sneaking into gojo’s room this late at night. at least you know which boards creak.
he closes the door behind you, crossing his arms over his chest and observing you. you look the same as you always do, but the way your hair falls over your face makes him want to brush it back, like some unresolved impulse. he doesn’t do anything about it; hanging around you for so long has taught him how to keep himself in control. for as long as he can manage, anyway.
he speaks up first, voice hoarse and low with lack of use. “what’s in the bag?” he makes it sound like it’s something illegal. and at this point, you’re not sure if the feeling that pushes you to do things for him should be considered so, because sometimes it feels like it.
“a birthday cake. or— it’s a fruit tart i stayed up to make.” you said, placing the bag on his cluttered desk, pushing away photo frames and bloody tissues and pencils shaven down to eraser stubs to make room for the box. satoru meanders over to you, peering over your shoulder with one hand on the desk to support himself. you can feel his breath on your neck, hot even in the darkness. it makes your hands clammy.
moonlight spills in from the windows next to his bed, but it’s not enough, so you turn on the lamp and open the box. the tart’s been through quite a bit— jostled in transport, marred in the making— but the sweet smell of fruit and cream makes his mouth water nonetheless.
“wow, that’s nice of you. weirdly so, actually. are you really [name]?” you can hear the grin in satoru’s voice, and you know he can hear the exasperation in your voice when you reply, using the plastic utensils you packed to cut a slice for him. the red strawberry juice stains the cream as your knife slices through, a rivulet of vermillion.
“shut up and be grateful. you get the slice with kiwi and the rotten blueberries just for that,” you huff, indignantly in a way that reminds satoru of a rather petulant housecat. he takes the tart from you, cold fingers ghosting over yours as the golden brown crust crumbles in his palm.
ignoring the sour berries, the taste is like a bite of heaven, but not the distant kind that’s hidden behind a veil of clouds. the kind that’s only found within the quaint, humble warmth of a homely kitchen, made with love by one’s own hand. your hand. the knowledge tastes all the sweeter on his tongue.
he’s snapped from his dazed pastry-savoring stupor when you speak up again, enjoying a slice of your own.
“happy birthday, gojo.” he stiffens, but he’s not quite sure why. if you notice his change in demeanor, you don’t say anything about it.
“congrats to another year,” you smiled, lifting up your half-eaten tart, not unlike the onigiri you’d shared with him a year ago. except this time he reciprocates, and you share a toast of berries and cream in the darkness of his dorm, at 3am on a quiet sunday.
the dorms are silent. the only sound is the wind outside, throwing leaves and dust at the window panes as it sings a tune in ode to winter. come tomorrow, it’ll likely be silenced by a coating of thick, white snow; unmoving, burying the secrets of the earth beneath the glittering icicles. not unlike the boy next to you, with pretty blue eyes that are constantly focused yet distant all the same, hair the color of clouds and face worn with age unbefitting of a child.
come tomorrow, the snow will fall and snuff out the life of the flowers and plants. but in this tranquil bubble of time, satoru is as free as a dove outside of its silver cage.
he reaches over, pulling you in by the sleeve of your night shirt and pressing a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. it happens in the blink of an eye; a moment of impulse, where for once, he allows himself to breathe; to let down the walls he literally holds up around him, to let his fingers curl into the fabric of your clothes and breathe in your scent, taste the heat on your skin and the buttery sweet crumbs dotting the curve of your lips; the dips in the corners of your mouth that make you always look so pretty when you smile.
when he pulls away, he refuses to meet your gaze, instead staring down at the only remaining clue of the tart in his palm— a single, rotten blueberry, squishy and soft. the silence rings in his ear as his face becomes hot.
“what was that for?” you ask quietly, staring angrily— in embarrassment, into nothing.
“there were crumbs on your mouth,” he explains.
nothing more, nothing less.
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my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !
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yunqni · 11 months
Text
" park seonghwa - vacation "
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pair; fiance seonghwa x fem reader
wc; ~3k
genre; fluff ?? smut ?? 🤭 idk its just kinda cute kinda sexy kinda lovey dovey ?? its my first ever fic IM SO SCARED,, :')
contents + smut warnings; cussing, kissing/making out, dom hwa, unprotected sex (im not encouraging this irl), multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie, oral+fingering (f recieving), i think thats all ?? also indulges into some aftercare and massaging after the smut, please let me know if i missed any content warnings !
note; writing below is not proofread cus im too lazy and its intentionally written in all lower case, so please excuse any mistakes !
《 minors strictly dni, sexual content below. 》
today was only the second day of your vacation in singapore, and you couldn’t have wished for it to be any better. seonghwa had spoken to your manager himself and surprised you with a holiday at a luxury resort for the next two weeks ‘just because you need a well deserved holiday’.
soft pecks from your fiance were what pulled you out from your sleep, and you were pulled closer into his warm arms. you slowly opened your eyes only to be blessed with the sight of seonghwa’s gentle smile as your eyes adjusted to the light.
“ good morning, angel “ he whispered, careful not to speak to loud as though to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere you two were embracing.
you leaned upwards to give him a kiss which he eagerly returned, pulling you closer by the shoulder to deepen the kiss.
his hand traveled further down your body while his fingers gently grazed against your soft skin, leaving goosebumps as they moved. he hoists your leg over across his waist before poking his tongue against your lips, asking for access into your mouth.
you gladly accept his invitation before allowing him and his tongue to take control over you, lewd yet sexy noises resonating throughout your room.
seonghwa pulled away before anything could progress further, both of you horny and helplessly panting .
“ sorry baby, got a little carried away “ he said sitting upright, letting out an airylaugh at himself.
placing a hand on his chest, you sat up and responded “ its alright “ before leaning in to make out with him once more.
he directed his kisses downwards, moving towards your throat. his hands slipped underneath your t-shirt making you shiver in delight as you pressed further into his warmth. as he licked and kissed all the sensitive areas of your neck, you felt your pussy clench unconsciously around nothing and the butterflies in your stomach take flight .
seonghwa fiddled with the mountain of pillows behind you to create a surface comfortable for you to be loved destroyed on. he encouraged you to spread your legs for him, as he slowly removed your tiny pajama shorts leaving you in the black lacy thong you had particularly chosen to wear. he laughed again and admired the sight of your wet panties before removing them aswell .
he leaves teasing kisses and licks on the skin of your plush thighs, slowly moving closer towards your most sensitive areas. after placing one final kiss over your dripping entrance, he unexpectedly slips one long finger inside you, penetrating it deeper than your own fingers could ever go.
you whine out at the sudden insertion to which he inserts another two fingers, now fingering you at a fast pace with three of his beautiful fingers. you shriek at the strange feeling bubbling inside your tower stomach , legs trembling around his head.
seonghwa also moved back to continue kissing, licking and sucking at your clit which bought you dangerously close to your first orgasm.
“ cumming already, sweetheart? hold it. “ he said, making you cry out helpelessly at his wish to deny your orgasm.
with the way he kissed and touched you before, the orgasm was too strong for you to hold back. as your fingers gripped his wrist which was still mercilessly pounding three long fingers into your sopping pussy, he understood you.
“ too much for you to hold, baby? “
“ yes, yes p-please seonghwa… “ you plea, moans uncontrollable as your hips writhe against the once perfect bedsheets.
“ go on then baby. since you’ve been such an angel for me, i’ll let you cum now. “
just as he had barely finished his sentence, your orgasm went by in a blur. your entire body went numb and you close your eyes. his motions never give up during and after your orgasm, overstimulating your pussy.
“ s-seonghwa,, p-please, please…. too much “
“ you can do it, baby… can you give your seonghwa just one more before i give you my cock?”
you give up complaining as your discomfort from overstimulation soon turns into intense pleasure, feeling that tightness in your lower stomach build up once again. seonghwa felt your walls flutter against his fingers, signalling your impending orgasm. his finger adopt a ' come hither ' motion against your walls, rubbing directly on your g-spot. he honestly couldn't believe he was able to have such an affect on you with just his fingers.
he could feel his painfully hard dick throbbing against the confinements of his sleep shorts, but he so desperately wanted to serve you how you wanted and worship you with endless orgasms.
that was when your second orgasm knocked you like an intense wave. your legs were shaking as your thighs tried to close around seonghwas head. but, he forced them apart with his spare hand and pinned your hips down. his tongue was swiping against your spent clit as he helped you through your second orgasm.
he reulctantly pulled his head away from your pussy to look up at you, but kept his fingers inside you. he looked so sexy like this – hair mostly pulled back from his face, eyes still slightly heavy from his sleep, lips drenched in your cum (and it was evident where he hadnt shaved his facial hair for a day or two), desperately trying to catch his breath with three of his slender fingers still knuckle deep inside your throbbing pussy.
" so, so beautiful, baby... " seonghwa whispered for only you to hear as he very slowly began moving his fingers inside of you again. the movements sent shocks throughout your body . you tried to grab his wrist with one of your shaky hands to get him to stop, at which he smiled at. tease.
he tutted as he used his spare hand to pry you away, before kissing the back of your knuckles and removing his fingers from you. he lifted them up to your mouth, encouraging you to lick your fluids off his fingers. his sultry eyes held eye contact with you as you took his fingers into your mouth and teasingly licked at them. the motion has his cock painfully throbbing inside his shorts, desperately wanting to be released from them.
he took his fingers out before moving to take off his shorts and boxers in one . he leant down to hover over you, meeting your pink lips in a quick, messy kiss. seonghwa directed his cock towards your pussy, slowly rubbing his tip up and down your soaking folds. he could feel your already half used hole clenching around nothing, just craving for him to finally make you feel full again.
seonghwa smiled at that thought, kissing the shell of your ear before moving across to kiss your collarbone . His hand wrapped around your shoulder as his tip prodded against your entrance, slipping into your soaked hole. you let out a moan after he forced the tip in, staring down to look at your lips stretched around him as he slowly slid further inside inch by inch .
with some further force and the aid of your drenched pussy, he bottomed out inside you eliciting a whine from deep within your chest . you could feel his tip deliciously pressing against your cervix, it was a very tight fit. feeling every vein of his cock pulse and strain against your mushy walls.
" do you feel that, baby? you feel how perfectly we fit together? " seonghwa spoke, leaving your brain to short-circuit at his words. he was right. the curve of his length fit so snug against your walls.
seonghwa checked up on you, then had to wait a minute or two before he started thrusting in fear of cumming too soon. fluid from your previous orgasms encompassed him and with the way your walls parted to accept his thickness, it was all too much for him.
when he did start moving, he teased you with his thrusts — moving at snails pace in and out, in and out . he took his time experimenting the different angles based off your facial expressions everytime his cock penetrated areas inside you that had never been reached before him.
you were such a whiny mess, all for seonghwa. each slow, calculated thrust left you breathless. you wanted to encourage him to do whatever he wanted or to use you — but every time you tried to speak your brain could barely formulate a simple sentence.
eventually, when he found the angle that truly hit your spot, he began ruthlessly pounding into you. his desire for you was insatiable, as was yours. every thrust hit your g-spot so perfectly, to the degree, and had you moaning, whining, shouting his name . his soft lips were grazing against the shell of your ear, letting out beautiful grunts and moans directly for you to hear .
he looked down at where his dick was lost inside your pussy only for the sight of his cock bulging in your lower stomach to make his hips stutter . he cautiously placed a hand over where his tip reached inside you and added slight pressure to your abdomen .
the pressure made you whimper and shift around on the bed, to which seonghwa had to pin you down with his spare hand . it had caused a new feeling to spark which became increasingly difficult to hold back . this feeling is not one you were a stranger to when it came to seonghwa, he is just so skilled that he’s the only one to able to bring yourself to such an intense point of orgasm .
he pressed down even further onto the area before saying, “ d’you feel that, sweetheart? thats my cock buried deep inside of you. d’you know how much i enjoy being so deep inside of you, hm? “
your entire body shivered at his words, moving your hand to feel where his cock pounded inside you too. seonghwa slightly angled his hips making his tip bulge further out your stomach, smashing against a pleasure spot you didn't even know existed, but either way he'd only gone and found it (albeit to abuse it). your pussy repeatedly clenched around his dick in a vice grip making it difficult for him to move , your juices dripping out of you like a broken faucet .
“ only i can make you feel like this, hm? no one else gets to treat you the way i do, hm? “
“ y-yes! yes, yes, yes, seonghwa… “ you managed to get out among your heavy breathing and whines
both of you were on the brink of orgasms , anyone could have recognised that. with the way seonghwa's relentless thrusts somehow got faster and harder, and the way your legs shook around his hips. seonghwa had to hold your legs down again so as to not get in the way of his thrusts. his thumb dropped down to your clit working in precise circular motions, a pattern which he had memorized to exactly how you like it .
as your orgasm hit you, you couldn't help but lift your hips slightly off the mattress in sheer pleasure, writhing in seonghwa's grip. the feeling was indescribable — as juices endlessly gushed out of your pussy, almost pushing seonghwa out of you. he fought through the resistance though — as his thrusts kept at their back-breaking pace and his fingers still worked at your clit . you could hear the grumble of seonghwa's sultry voice as he praised you, yet you were too indulged in the feeling to recognise his words.
seonghwa's fingers definitely heightened your orgasm even further as your juices exploded all over his pelvis more than previous times he’s made you squirt . your fluids puddled below the two of you by your hips, and squelched inside your hole with his thrusts . the sounds that were now being produced as his cock penetrated your hole were new wordly, something that you two had never experienced before .
you weren't too sure when your orgasm had ended, seeing as you had practically passed out from the pleasure. he was so unbelievably proud and in awe of the both of you, and he wanted to do it again .
he never stopped thrusting into you, though, as his cock proceeded to drag against your raw, spent insides during your orgasm. after he recognised your recovery, he jumped straight back in to pounding your used hole in order to bring himself to orgasm. likewise, his finger hadn't ended their movements, only heightening the speed of his teasing circles against your swollen clit as he began fucking you again.
“ such a gorgeous girl,, such a good girl for me “
in mere seconds you were cumming again, not even realizing it until you felt your cum dripping out of you. seonghwa looked down at where you were connected to see white cream decorating the two of you. goosebumps formed at the sight .
“ hm, what was that , number 4 sweetheart? “
yes! yes seonghwa,, please dont stop !" you moaned (screamed) desperately. he was so entranced by how obedient you were for him. you were so deep into subspace by now and seonghwa wanted nothing more than to care for you.
“ oh my g-god y/n, you're so incredible. im g-gonna cum soon, just wait for me sweetheart. you want me to cum in your pussy, yeah ? “
“ y-yes please seonghwa,, yes… inside please,, i want your cum inside me… "
inside? he thought to himself. your words had him whimpering desperately as he crept towards his orgasm. the pleasure was so intense for the both of you, as his fingers dangerously dug into your sides as your nails scratched along his tense, muscular back.
" y-yeah, baby? you want my cum inside you, sweetheart ? you want me to fuck you full of my cum? you want me to breed you, hm? “
his taunting words left your pussy clenching helplessly, intensifying another upcoming orgasm. you could see the sweat dripping down his forehead and off his chin, only making him look even sexier as his face contorted in pleasure as he approached his orgasm.
it only took a couple more thrusts before he pounde one last time, letting out a beautiful broken whine as his cum endlessly shot deep into you. he had buried his cock to the furthest he could go inside you, his fluids dangerously close to your cervix. his orgasm felt like it was never ending, the immense pleasure you bought him made him cum more intensely than ever before .
he continued thrusting into you in order to keep his cum as deep inside of you as possible. unknowingly though in your last spurts of stimulation as shockwaves overtook your body, you came hard, one last time for him.
his tip rubbed against your dangerous spot as you, once again, felt the dam inside you break free as you squirted all over him. his fingers went to move on your clit gently to elongate your orgasm and to leave you feeling fully satisfied. as the juices spurted out of you, seonghwa couldn't help but stare at you, drowning in lust (and your squirt). your pussy was now overflowing with a mixture of both your releases.
you weren't sure what number orgasm it was at this point, you didn't even know you were capable of such. seonghwa really just had that affect on you. as your orgasm drew to a close, you flopped back against the pillows like a fish with closed eyes and heavy breathing.
before seonghwa could succumb to the tiredness he felt and the desire to do nothing in your embrace, his instincts took over him as he immediately ran to care for you after such intensity.
you were startled into consciousness by the feeling of a warm, wet rag cleaning at your lower regions incredibly gently, while another hand was massaging your neck and shoulders. if ever you expressed discomfort from the sensitivity, seonghwa would immediately pause his actions as though to not overwork your body .
you opened your eyes after a minute or two to be met with seonghwa gazing at you patiently, with the look of an angel spread across his new worldly features. his hand, which was digging into your sore muscles, moved to wipe some of your hair out of your face, while the other picked up a glass of ice-cold water conveniently placed on the bedside table. seonghwa urged you to drink from it, silently panicking that he was tending to all your needs .
he gently rolled you onto your stomach and moved the comforter away from your fragile body. despite how he has just handled you, he couldn't help but feel like you were a porcelain doll that needed to be taken care of in every way. he would have hated to cause you any long term pain simply for his pleasure, so he made it his absolute goal to ensure you were well taken care of .
seonghwa gently yet thoroughly massaged your inner thighs and all the way along your back, gently applying pressure into any knots . he took his time in making sure he was targeting the most sore areas by asking you where you needed the most attention.
after a thorough 20 minutes of massaging, seonghwa moved to hover over your body so his lips were right next to your ear. he left a feather-like kiss to the skin behind your ear before whispering to you ,
"you wait here for a minute sweetheart, okay ? 'm gonna run you a nice warm bath. don't fall asleep just yet, baby. still gotta go for breakfast too. "
he planted one more kiss by your ear before moving off your body into the bathroom, leaving your skin to form goosebumps from the lack of warmth.
as you glanced over at the alarm clock on the bedside, 10:47am, you let out a small laugh realising that you had missed the hotel breakfast hours for your little moment .
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Text
Phone Fun
Pairing  ::  Tangerine x  fem!Reader
Warnings  ::     18+ Content, SMUT/NSFW, Phone sex, Masturbation(F&M)
Word Count  ::  1310
Summary  ::  Tangerine’s been gone for a while and you each miss each other a lot
A/N  ::  I KNOW I’VE BEEN GONE FOR LIKE EVER BUT we should have all accepted by now this is the type of person I am. I am sorry. Please forgive me for my laziness.
It’s not funny like at all how quickly I became a slut for this man. I even bought the book Bullet Train so I could get more of him. I also might make a small/mini series for him bc I think it’s hilarious if he dated someone who had no clue he was an assassin.
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Tangerine is a professional. He does his job by the book(at least to the best of his abilities, given his line of work), quick and easy. He isn't the type to make mistakes or take risks. With that being said, he does everything he can to keep his work life and private life completely separate, even if that means lying to the person he loves most.
You hadn’t the slightest clue as to who he actually was. Everything you knew about him was an intricately fabricated lie of a life he created for you to believe. For starters, he told you his name was Gordon, and Lemon’s was Thomas. Lemon was happy he used names from Thomas The Tank Engine but would’ve preferred they had gone by Donald and Douglas since they’re brothers. Then, he told you he and Lemon both worked for a private security service firm that worked high-profile jobs. With this lie, you never questioned when he traveled to foreign countries for various periods of time. However, this also led you to presume he worked somewhat normal hours.
On more than one occasion, you called Tangerine while he was in the middle of work, and being the worry-wort he was when it came to you, he immediately answered after scrambling to find a decently quiet place to talk to you. Luckily, the calls were never because anything had happened to you or you somehow magically learned about the double-life he led and now wished to cut all ties with the contract-killer. Typically it was because you simply missed him and walked to talk to him for a bit, making sure he was okay.
Lemon always thought a simple text would have sufficed rather than a call. When he told Tangerine to tell you so, he received a menacing glare in response. After that, he completely threw out the thought of convincing him to tell you the truth.
Today’s call was not normal though.
“God am I glad you called.” Tangerine sat down on his bed, glad Lemon was out grabbing food so he could have a private chat.
You were able to hear clearly through the phone his exhaustion. “Was it rough today?”
He let out a deep sigh, earning a small chuckle. “You have no idea love.”
“You’ll be home soon, right?”
“Yeah, in two days.”
“I miss you so much.”
He was gone for nearly a month, jobs booked back-to-back. Before this, the longest he had been away was barely under two weeks.
Tangerine was looking forward to engulfing you in a large hug and pressing his lips against you in a passionate kiss. You never admitted it, but you became quite needy whenever he was gone. He never had any complaints since the sex when he got when he came back was always amazing. He couldn’t wait to toss you onto the bed, though he doubted if you two would make it to your room before you started your fun.
“This is gonna sound silly but…” You were hesitating. He was sure you had that shy smile you always put on when you were embarrassed right now. “I’m only wearing one of your button-ups right now.”
Only. That word rang in his head like a bell. “Oh really?”
Even though you knew he was returning soon, you were still incredibly lonely. Without thinking you grabbed one of his shirts and immediately a small smile formed due to the familiar scent that lingered. He didn’t use harsh over-bearing cologne that had multiple ingredients mixed creating a headache of a smell. Rather, he used a simple citrus herbal mix. Hints of orange and lemon hid under a woodsy scent with a slight spice.
Then, a slightly devious plan formed in your head, leading you to this very moment.
“Mhm.” You bit your lip, trying not to smile even though he couldn’t see you.
“And what are you doing right now?”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“I think you’re waiting in bed for me to come fuck you.” The sudden drop in tone shot a tingle down your spine, the warmth between your thighs growing.
“Ding-ding.”
“Have you started touching yourself?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because I wanted to tease you.”
A dark laugh left his lips. “You know I don’t enjoy being teased love.”
“Exactly.”
Whenever you made the reckless decision to tease him, he would often end up turning the tables and turned you into a moaning mess. Sometimes you did it on accident, other times it was on purpose because you loved how worked up he’d get.
You let out a soft hum, starting by massaging your breasts. “Don’t worry, I’ll go nice and slow so you know everything I’m doing.” You pinched your nipples, rolling them between your fingers.
You always knew how to turn him on. It was truly a gift you had. Hearing your small satisfied hums, he began to grow hard and found himself palming the bulge in his pants that was forming.
One of your hands traveled downwards to start rubbing your wet folds. “Hnng...” You imagined he was here with you, taking care of your needs. You rubbed a small circle around your clit, doing your best to enjoy the moment instead of speedily making yourself cum.
Hearing a small zip and fabric moving, you knew he was doing the same. He began stroking his length, remembering the tightness of your cunt.
You were growing wetter by the second, so when you moved your other hand down to insert a finger a soft sucking sound of the mess you were creating was now heard. This caused his dick to twitch, eager to be wrapped around you.
You stopped rubbing your clit momentarily to stick in a second finger and begin pumping, hoping the wet sounds would excite him. Precum began beading at the top of his cock so he used it to help lubricate his shaft. Going at a pace that matched yours, his grip was tight but paled in comparison to your cunt.
Both of you could hear the other’s desperation in your moans. You each wanted to touch one another so badly but had to suffice with the situation at hand.
Deciding you needed more friction, you pulled your fingers out and sat up.
“What are you doing now, love?”
Shamelessly you replied, “I’m going to ride your pillow darling.”
“Fuck.” His balls tightened.
As your hips began rocking back and forth on his pillow, he began to thrust up in the air, each of you pretending you were riding him now.
Growing closer, you started rubbing your clit again, your fingers moving much harsher than before. He was also getting ready to cum, so he quickly threw off his vest and unbuttoned his shirt so that way they wouldn’t get ruined.
Your paced hips grew sloppy and your panting much louder. His groaning was becoming deeper, pumping and thrusting as if he was fucking.
“Ahh!”
The heat building in your stomach was begging to be released. You stopped moving, straddling the pillow with your hand between your legs. Your hand moved quickly across your clit until the tingling sensation finally broke. Your entire body tensed up, continuing to press firmly against the sensitive nub while your pussy clenched to release.
With his own muscles tense, hearing your cry of pleasure his cock twitched again, finally ready to cum. His tight sack finally contracted, releasing hot shots of cum that landed right on his abdomen. He released his hold, his cock continuing to jump as his entire load came out.
The only thing that could be heard now were the small breaths you were each taking to compose yourselves.
“Well this was fun,” You said while flopping onto your back.
“Fun, but not as good as the real deal.”
“Two more days until then.”
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munsonsmixtapes · 1 month
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Take it Off
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Older!Eddie x fem!reader
Summary: Eddie takes you on a date and can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you look in your dress, and most importantly, what you’d look like out of it.
This is a continuation of my older!Eddie request!
word count: 4.4k
cw: reader is 25 and Eddie is 40, MDNI 18+ smut (p in v) , hurt/comfort if you squint
You stared at your reflection in your full length, mirror, second guessing your outfit for the thousandth time that night. The dress had fit you like a glove and hugged you in all the right places, but you were still unsure if it was the right choice. There was a lot of riding on your date with Eddie and you weren’t sure he would like what you were wearing.
You had bought the thing after you had gotten off of work and even though the saleswoman had insisted that it had looked amazing on you, you were still unsure. It was a pretty shade of blue that complimented your skin tone perfectly and it stopped at your ankles, just short enough that you wouldn’t trip on it.
You were about to change once again when there was a knock on your door. Your heart hammered in your chest as you reached for your purse and shoes. Eddie hadn’t told you were you were going and just asked you to dress nice, which made you nervous.
You practically ran to the door and opened it, Eddie on the other side, looking like a dream in his maroon button up shirt that was only buttoned up halfway, giving you a great view of his tattoos. The shirt was covered by a black blazer that was paired with black slacks and pair of dress shoes.
His mouth practically dropped open at the sight of you, his eyes slowly raking down your body. He thought you looked perfect, the dress hugging every curve of your body.
“Hi,” he smiled and you mimicked it. “You look fucking amazing.”
“Hi, and thank you. So do you.” you replied and he held out his hand to you. His fingers were naked, his rings that usually adorned them, missing. You stared at them, taking in how slender they were, wondering how they would feel intertwined with yours, wondering how they would feel shoved up your-
“Ready?” He offered you his hand and you looked down at your feet, realizing that they were still bare.
“Hold on,” you told him, placing your hand on his shoulder so you could put on your shoes and he rested his hand on the small of your back to make sure you were steady. Once they were on, you took Eddie’s hand and the two of you walked to the elevator.
His hand was warm and rough and you wished you could have held it forever, hoping that if you played your cards right, he’d let you. He gave yours a squeeze as he turned to you with a bright smile which you returned.
You couldn’t believe it. After months of crushing on Eddie, you were actually going out with him. And he had been the one who had asked despite your want to do it. And thank god for that since you knew you wouldn’t have been able to get the words out without sounding like an idiot.
The two of you got to the elevator and Eddie pressed the button that led down to the lobby before pulling you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“What was that for?” You asked as he just looked down at you with his Bambi eyes. They were so pretty and warm and looked at you with so much affection that it warmed your heart.
“Does there have to be a reason?” There really didn’t, but you were going to ask for one anyway.
“No,” you shook your head.
“I just like to kiss you, how about that?” You liked the sound of that, pulling Eddie even closer to you, moving your arms underneath his blazer.
“Then please continue.” You smiled up at him and he couldn’t help but do whatever you said.
“Happy to.” He pressed his lips to yours once again as the elevator doors opened. Eddie backed you inside, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he did so. The kiss was sweet and gentle despite all the ones you had shared the night before.
“Where are you taking me?” You asked against his lips.
“Why don’t you wait and see?” He pulled back to look at you, his hand moving up to your cheek.
“Why don’t you just tell me?” Eddie was starting to like seeing that side of you. He liked the idea of making you beg.
“You’re impatient.” he pressed his lips to your neck, peppering it with kisses.
“You’re going to have to get used to that.” He supposed he would, and he could. He really could.
His mouth sucked on your neck and just as you made a noise at the sensation, the elevator doors opened at the lobby. Eddie was quick to remove his lips from your neck and took you by the hand again, leading you to the front door.
Once there, he opened the door and let you step out first, resting his hand on the small of your back as he took you to his car, wanting to keep you safe in the dark of the night. And maybe he just wanted an excuse to touch you.
As soon as you got to Eddie’s car, he was quick to open the passenger door for you, gesturing to the seat.
“Oh, thank you,” you said and slowly got into the seat before Eddie closed the door. He rounded the front of the car and joined you inside, sitting in the driver’s seat.
You looked around the vehicle as Eddie started it up, noticing just how nice it was, loving the color of the cherry red interior. You didn’t know what Eddie did for a living, but you were sure that it payed a lot.
That caused you to wonder why he was living in your apartment building when he could have easily lived somewhere nicer. You were grateful, though, that he had been your next door neighbor. Convinced that it had been fate that the two of you were there together that night.
You didn’t care if it seemed silly to believe in that sort of thing, but you were hoping that maybe, possibly that Eddie was the exact right person for you. He was sweet and caring and even though you hadn’t spent that much time with him, you knew that he cared about you. Why else would he have carried that heavy chair up for you?
Eddie’s car rolled up to the restaurant and your eyes widened at the very fancy building before you. You could see the nice tables with the white table clothes and candles through the window. Couples were drinking glasses of wine and chatting happily over their overpriced food and you were mesmerized by a world that you had never entered. Maybe dating an older man had its perks.
The car door was opened for you, but the person opening it wasn’t Eddie. It was a man in a vest and he held out his hand with a smile. You gratefully took it and he helped you out of the car while Eddie handed off his keys to the man in front of him.
You joined Eddie on the sidewalk and the two of you watched the man drive Eddie’s car away before Eddie turned to you. You had never been to place that was so nice that it had valet parking. This was a whole other life you never thought you’d be apart of.
Eddie wrapped an arm around your waist and led you inside to the hostess stand where you could see the woman behind it eyeing him with a flirty look.
“Reservation for Munson,” he told her as he pulled you more into his side. She nodded in response and grabbed two fancy looking menus before turning on her heel to lead you both to your table.
“Right this way.” She led you to a table further into the restaurant, an area that was little more private and you wondered what strings Eddie had to pull to get you into that space. Probably many.
“And here we are,” she stopped at a table closer to the back and set the menus down on the table before putting on a bright smile. “Enjoy,” was all she said before turning on her heel, leaving the two of you alone.
Eddie was quick to pull out your chair for you and you sat down before he pushed it closer to the table. He then headed over to his side and sat across from you, putting on his million dollar smile. You both put your napkins in your laps then opened the menus, your eyes widening at the prices. The only thing that you could have afforded there was the water and that was only because it was complimentary. You could barely afford your rent, let alone a seventy-five dollar steak.
“Eddie,” you looked up at him, panic evident in your voice. His eyes snapped up at you, wanting to know what was wrong. The date had just started and he had already fucked up?
“What’s wrong?” He asked, lowering his menu so he could see your face.
“This place is really expensive and I don’t think I can afford-“
“Don’t worry about it,” he waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “Order whatever you want. I’ll take care of you.” His words seemed so sincere and you could tell that he wasn’t trying to buy your affection, but you were still felt a little bad.
“But-“
Eddie hated that you were worrying about money when he was supposed to be treating you. He would have never asked you to pay for your own meal when he was the one who had asked you out. And he hated that you were worrying in general when you were supposed to be having fun.
“I’ve got all this money and I need someone to spend it on. Why can’t it be you?” Why couldn’t it be you? You had dated so many losers in your lifetime and deserved to finally be treated right. And you trusted that Eddie could do just that. If the date had gone well, maybe you could have seen yourself having a future with him.
“Why should it be me?” You were younger than him by a lot and were sure that there was alone of women waiting for just a sliver of a chance with him so why you?
“Because you’re the only one I’d want to spoil. You’re sweet and kind and very easy on the eyes.”
“Can I ask you a question?” There was something that had been weighing on your mind and you needed to know the answer.
“Of course you can.” His hand reached for yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze accompanied by a soft smile.
“Did you only ask me out because we had sex last night?” His eyes widened at your question and his eyebrows furrowed, almost as if he was offended.
“No, honey, of course not.” His thumb rubbed your hand sympathetically, wondering what would have prompted you to ask such a question. “I asked you out because I’ve liked you for a long time.”
“You like me?” You were shocked by his confession. Sure, you had assumed that he liked you since he had asked you out, but you never expected him to actually admit it.
You had never had luck with men. They either were too interested or never even spared you a second glance. Dates were always a disaster, ending in terrible sex or you left before the check came because of their awful behavior. And then once nice guy came along and you almost didn’t believe him because why would a guy like that be interested in you?
“Of course I like you.” The words were followed by a chuckle as he continued to rub his thumb along your knuckles. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Yes.” You wanted to know all of Eddie’s secrets. You wanted to know every single thing about him, to share stuff about himself that no one else knew.
“I wasn’t even going anywhere last night. I saw you leave your apartment and I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.” Why would he have needed an excuse to talk to you? You would have dropped everything just to have a conversation with him.
“Why would you need an excuse? You could have just talked to me.” He could have, but he had every intention of asking you out and the thought made him nervous. He hadn’t liked anyone like that in a long time and suddenly, his usually moves didn’t seem to go right.
“I didn’t want you to think I was weird.” You never would have thought Eddie was weird. And even if you did, you would have welcomed his quirks with open arms, deciding that those always made people unique.
“I’d never think that.” You shook your head as a server approached your table. With your permission, Eddie ordered a wine for the table that you had never even heard of, let alone could pronounce. Hearing him pronounce the French words so perfectly was making you a little wet. His accent was so hot and you didn’t even know he could speak French.
“So, French, huh?” You asked as the server went to fetch your wine.
“I spent a summer in France with my uncle Wayne.” That sounded about right. Of course he had been to other countries. That was typically what rich people did. Not that you would have known anything about that since you wouldn’t have even been able afford your dinner without Eddie paying for it.
“That’s really cool. Does he live there?” Your conversations with Eddie always flowed so easily, like you were old friends instead of neighbors that barely knew each other.
The server dropped off the wine and served it to you both before taking your orders then heading back to the kitchen to put them in. You took a sip from your glass, assuming you were going to hate it, but were pleasantly surprised by the flavor. It was very sweet, which surprised you since you would have figured that he liked wine on the dryer side.
“He does now,” he nodded, taking a sip from his wine. “He’s got a famous bakery there.”
“That sounds amazing. Good for him.” Eddie seemed very proud of his uncle and that warmed your heart. They seemed very close, almost like father and son.
“Have you ever been?” To France? Absolutely not. You had almost had gone with your great aunt, but she randomly decided that she was going to take your cousin instead. And you totally weren’t still upset about it.
“Nope, never even left New York.” You tried to not sound so bitter when you said the words. You had always wanted to travel, but it was just never in the cards.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to take you sometime.” He leaned closer to you and pressed his lips to the hand he was still holding before letting your hands fall back to the table. Despite his flirty tone, you could hear the truth in his words. He really would take you to France.
“I guess you will.” You took a sip from your wine and tried to pace yourself, not wanting the first time you got drunk around Eddie being in public. That would have just been embarrassing.
“Can I just say, you look beautiful tonight. Honestly, it’s kind of distracting.” Your cheeks flushed at his comment and you were hoping that he just thought it was the alcohol.
“You’re the distracting one, leaving nothing up to the imagination.” You gestured to his practically open shirt and found yourself wanting to trace his tattoos with your fingers. You wanted him tell you the stories behind them and exactly what they meant.
“That was on purpose and clearly it worked.” He winked, taking another sip from his wine.
“Clearly.” You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of his chest, finding yourself wanting to run your tongue all along it, wanting to feel his chest hair under your fingers.
“How about we take our food to go and move straight to dessert?” You liked that idea. You liked that idea a lot. Your dress was suddenly feeling uncomfortable and you desperately needed Eddie to take it off.
“I’d like that.” You nodded furiously, bitting down on your bottom lip as you noticed Eddie’s eyes darkening.
The server brought by your meals and Eddie requested to go boxes only for the server to take the dishes back to the kitchen to pack it up for you. The boxes were set on the table along with the check and you tried to get a peek but Eddie pulled it out of your line of sight before you could see it. He pulled his wallet out of his blazer jacket then reached for one of his many card before putting it in the top of the little book.
He turned his attention to you and you brought your foot up to the side of his leg and grazed it. His eyes darkened even more as your leg moved up and down his leg, his dick getting hard thinking about having his way with you in his backseat.
The served couldn’t have taken Eddie’s card and brought it back soon enough as the two of you were practically racing out of the restaurant, him leading you through the place as if it were a maze.
As soon as you got out onto the side walk, Eddie grabbed you by the hips and pulled you to him, pulling you into a rushed and heated kiss. His tongue found yours very quickly and they swirled together as you both tried to hold back your moans.
Eddie pulled away as the valet brought his car up to the curb and he was quick take the keys back, helping you into the car before rushing over to his side. He started up the car and sped up, close to flooring it as he flew down the street, desperate to get the two of you back to his apartment.
The ten minute drive felt like agony, the two of you aching for each other as Eddie pulled into his usual parking spot. He helped you out of your seat then led you inside, making a beeline of the elevators. He pressed the “up” button on all three of them for a greater chance to get upstairs faster. One of them opened and he shoved you into to it, pushing you against the wall and his mouth was on yours, this kiss hot and desperate. Your hand moved to his shirt and quickly unbuttoned it, moving up to his hairy chest. You licked into his mouth as the elevator doors opened and you both slowly made your way down the hall, lips still attached.
“Hold on.” Eddie pulled away, reaching into his pocket for his keys. He fiddled around with them before finding the right one and unlocking the door. He let you go inside first and you couldn’t help but notice how nicely decorated it was. Definitely nicer than yours.
Eddie grabbed hold of your hand and quickly turned you around to face him, his lips capturing yours once again. His lips moved down to your shoulder, pressing gentle kisses to it. He removed the strap to have better access and moved his hands up your back, resting them on the zipper of your dress.
“This is a beautiful dress, sweetheart,” he mumbled against your skin. “But I think it would look much better on the floor.” You got even more wet at his words, desperate to let him have his way with you.
“I agree.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Eddie removed the straps from your shoulders and slowly sliding the zipper down your back. The thing pooled at your feet and Eddie got even more hard once he noticed that you been completely naked underneath the dress. You collapsed onto the couch as Eddie ditched his own clothes in record speed, making sure to grab a condom from his pocket.
He rolled the thing onto his cock then practically throwing himself on top of you, taking no time to thrust into you. You let out a loud moan at the sensation and he took that as an invitation to continue, pounding into you as hard as he could.
You both made multiple sounds of pleasure and Eddie loved watching you come undone underneath him, your eyes closed, your head tilted back, your hands scratching up and down his back.
You grabbed onto Eddie’s ass, your fingers digging into the skin as you tried to get him farther inside of you. You needed every single inch of him. He let out a yelp at the feeling, but wasn’t afraid to admit that he liked the sting.
“Need more of you, Eds.” You arched your back, trying your best to take all of him.
“I’m doing to best I can, sweetheart,” he continued to pump in and out of your cunt, moving as hard and as fast as he could, wanting to do whatever he could to please you. “Sure you can take it?” He was just afraid of hurting you.
“I can take it.” You opened your eyes and showed him that you meant it. “Please.”
“Okay,” he let out a sigh, knowing that he couldn’t never say no to you. “You ready?”
“Was ready five minutes ago-oh,” your complaint was cut off by a loud moan falling from your lips as Eddie fit all of himself inside of you, letting out a moan of his own. It felt just as good as you thought it had and you were surprised he could even get it all the way in with how big he was.
He continued to pound into you, his fingers digging even further into your hips and you knew for sure that the pressure was going to leave bruises. Not that you minded. You actually preferred it, wanting him to leave marks all over your body.
Your nails moved to his back and scratched up and down it as he continued to thrust in and out of your pussy, more and more moans escaping both of your mouths.
“Look at you, taking me so well,” Eddie commented between breaths. “Look like a princess underneath me. God, you’re so hot, you don’t even know.” He pressed bruising kiss to your lips and you were quick to return it, your hands moving to his hair as he took your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a soft nip. You tugged at his hair and he took that as an invitation to continue, biting even harder. You gave his hair another yank as a whimper fell from your lips and he diffused the sting with his tongue before sticking the thing into your mouth, letting it scrape roughly against yours.
Eddie pulled away and continued to thrust into you, slower this time, the two of you starting to lose the stamina you had before, but not wanting it to end.
“So good, Eds,” you moaned. “Faster, baby,” you slurred and Eddie just let out a chuckle.
“Aww, don’t go dumb on me, love,” he moved the sweaty hair that had stuck to your forehead and pressed a kiss to it. “Think you got one more in you before we go to bed?” You absolutely did not, but you were going to try and convince him that you did.
“Mmm,” was all you responded with and Eddie took that as a sign that you both needed to go to sleep. He pulled out and cleaned the both of you up before wrapping you up in one of his blankets before carrying you to his room when he realized that you could barely walk. Well, let’s be honest, he would have carried you even if you could walk.
Eddie careful set you down on his bed then moved to his closet for some pajamas. They were a silk pair, his favorite. He wouldn’t have usually let anyone wear them, but he thought you deserved special treatment. Once he dressed himself, he moved over to you with the pajamas in his hands.
“Need to dress you, angel. Is that okay?” He wanted full consent before he continued.
“I’d rather you undress me,” you slurred, trying and failing to make your tone flirty.
“You’re already undressed,” he laughed.
“Dress me, baby,” you ripped off the blanket and Eddie stepped forward, tossing the pajamas onto the bed before reaching for the top.
“Arms out, angel.” You did as he said and put your arms out as he put each arm into a sleeve then buttoned the thing up. He then reached for the pants and slid them up your legs, pulling them up until they rested on your hips.
Eddie stepped back, taking a moment to admire the way you looked in his pajamas. His friends had teased him for having his first and last initials sewn into the pockets of his pajama shirts, but it didn’t seem so silly now, considering that was where your heart was. God, he was so down bad for you and he didn’t even care.
“Alright,” he reached for your hands, pulling you to your feet. “Time for bed.” He pulled back the covers and helped you get under them, your legs still feeling like jello.
“What about brushing our teeth,” you asked, not loving the idea of going to bed without the minty taste in your mouth.
“I’d be happy to brush your teeth, angel, but you seem a little too tired for that. Would a cuddle make up for it?”
“Always.”
Eddie got into the bed next to you and pulled you into his arms, giving you a bright smile. You mimicked it as well as you could in your tired state and Eddie just laughed in return.
“Get some rest, angel,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before snuggling further into you. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
You closed your eyes, letting out a sigh of content, hoping that you could wake up next to that man every morning for the rest of your life. Little did you know that only a few months later, he’d get down on one knee and ask exactly that.
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lu-vin-it · 5 months
Text
Luck
── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────
Part 2
Summary: You'd always been close to the Snow's, especially Tigris. You lived beside them, starved with them during the war, and helped feed them after. You've also had a crush on Coriolanus for forever.
Pairings: Coriolanus Snow x Reader
Pronouns Used: None Mentioned
Word Count: 10,962
Warnings: A LOT of murder, y/n is a tad evil!, poison, drug use (morphling), they drink some champagne too, typical Hunger Games stuff, somewhat consistent with the actual movie timeline, somewhat consistent with the book, most of the dialogue is pulled directly from a transcript of the movie
A/N: My first Hunger Games fic, Yay! It's a man, Boo! This is also a two parter unfortunately so get ready for the cliffhanger!! This is the longest fic I've ever written! I am embarrassed. Thanks to @lemkay-luminary , @lunatiqez , and @mictodii for proofreading, ilysm bffs!!!
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Your family, the Rose’s, had a similar standing to the Snows. Maybe that’s why you got along with Tigris so well. You knew what she was going through, you understood her day to day struggle. 
Tigris and you were pushed to be friends by your parents, before the dark days. You were two years younger than her, but still, the two of you became inseparable, especially after your parents gained back their fortune and moved into the penthouse beside theirs. Sometimes you thought you spent more time in their home than your own, after your money came trickling back.
Most of the time you spent your allowance on the Snow family. Your parents pretended to not know. You constantly bought Tigris new thread, buttons, or fabric. She refused to let you buy anything expensive; so you would go to a shop, buy the cheapest things you could find, and give those to her. Then, the two of you would sew together, usually giving the pieces to the Grandma’am or to Tigris’s cousin, Coriolanus. 
Coryo was in your year at the academy, so you spent a great deal of time with him as well. You were pretty close with him too, though you wished you were closer. 
The night before the Reaping and the Plinth Prize, you got home late. You had to lug dinner, your school books, and buttons all the way across town by foot. 
When you arrive home, you open your bedroom door to find Tigris sitting by your bed. 
She gets up and gives you a hug. “Is that bread?” She asks, glancing into your bag. 
“And stew! Come, sit.” You walk into the room and over to your table. Tigris follows suit, adjusting her robe slightly. “Is everyone asleep?” You start pouring the stew from the canister into bowls.
“Yes, your sister was already asleep when I got here and your parents stopped by thirty minutes ago to say goodnight.” You nod and hand her a bowl. “Thank you! You’re my favorite.” 
“You’re welcome! I have the buttons we needed too. Where is the shirt?” 
“Oh, it’s in my bag.” She nods to the purse sitting by your bed. She stands up and gets the shirt swiftly. You take it from her and unfold it, it looks nearly perfect. The buttons are just the missing piece. 
“This is perfect! Beautifully done, T.” 
She blushes. “Stop! It’s really your doing. That is the thread you gifted me. And these buttons are going to outshine everything else.” The way she said it made you instantly believe it. 
The rest of the night, you and Tigris slowly sew on each button. Trying different stitches in order to find the perfect one. Once you did, you lay the shirt down on your couch, and nod off to sleep, your last thoughts were of Coryo. What would he think of you helping with it? Would he smile in that one way he does sometimes? You couldn’t help but grin at the thought.
The next morning, you woke up earlier than usual with Tigris. You had to look your best today, even though you weren’t in line for a Plinth Prize, you knew there’d be plenty of pictures taken if Coryo wins it, and he will. You took the rest of the bread with you as you went to the Snow’s penthouse, just two houses down.  
“Have you seen Tigris with my Father’s shirt?” You hear Coryo ask as you walk through the door. 
“No.” The Grandma’am replies. 
“Coryo?” Tigris calls out as she walks through the foyer. You trail behind her. 
“Tigris?” Your classmate finally comes into view, shirtless. You look away. 
“I’m sorry we’re late.” Tigris apologizes.
“It was my fault, my first alarm didn’t ring.” You say with a frown. “But! We did it!” You gesture for Tigris to get the shirt, she does. 
“Well, we did something.” She hands it over. Coryo starts putting it on.
“I think it’s gorgeous.” 
Tigris looks at you, clearly thankful for the compliment. “It’s beautiful.” 
“Best cousin ever, and best friend ever.” Butterflies erupt in your stomach, you don’t let them show. “Tell me everything.” 
“Where do I start? I told Fabricia, at work, that she needed to bleach her white curtains and I slipped in the shirt while she did it. And of course we have Y/N to thank for the buttons.” 
“How much were they?” He asks, furrowing his brows. 
“Don’t worry about it. Think of it as an early graduation present.” You brush him off. 
“Oh. Did you find the potatoes? I boiled them for starch and you should really eat something today.”
He shakes his head. “Save them for Grandma’am.” He buttons the last button. 
Tigris grins, and fixes his collar. “You look so handsome! Grandma’am! Come see!” 
“Coriolanus Snow, future president of Panem,” Tigris joins. “We salute you.” You and Tigris both salute Coryo. 
Later, you and Coriolanus walk into the academy shoulder to shoulder. Clemensia, Coriolanus’s class partner and a classmate of yours, comes up to you two.
“Why, Coriolanus Snow, Y/N Rose.” 
“Clemmie.” Your friend replies. 
“Are you two sweating?” 
“It’s reaping day, we gave our drivers a day off.” You reply. 
“Ugh! Those ingrates should be begging to chauffeur you around today.” Clemensia replies, not looking at you once. “Just don’t forget I was your class partner while you’re gloating over the Plinth Prize.” 
“Prize? Please.” Coryo shakes his head. “I just want to serve Panem.” 
She hums. “Hungry?” 
“Cook served steak for breakfast, we had to throw half out.” She seemed to believe his lies. 
“Shame on you, Coryo. Don’t you know that they’re starving out there in the districts?” The three of you walk in. A friend of yours, Juno Phipps, calls you over. 
“I’ll see you soon, Coryo. You’ve got this.” You squeeze his shoulder before walking over to Juno . 
A moment passes before the bell rings and you have to rush into the veiwing room. You run over to where Coriolanus is standing with Sejanus. 
“…There’s no plinth prize today.” You overhear. Sejanus walks away. You go up to the blonde. 
“What just happened?” 
Coryo’s jaw tightens. “He said there was no prize today.” Your heart shatters for him. 
“Come on, the reaping is starting.” You place your hand on his arm. “Today, Coryo. There’s no prize today.” You emphasize. He glances at you and nods. You drop your hand and walk in, Coryo following.
You sit down right as Dr. Gual starts speaking.  
“How tantalizing to see all your shining young faces on this auspicious day.” She starts. “I am Dr. Volumnia Gaul, your humble gamemaker, in charge of the War Department and all its affiliated concerns. I’ve broken free of my laboratory today, to examine you, the leaders of the next generation. I won’t be around forever, after all.” She laughs. “And now to that end, I am honored to introduce you to the creator of the Hunger Games themselves, Dean Casca Highbottom.” Your dean steps up, clearly high on morphling, but then again when is he not? 
He clears his throat. “Select students, faculty, and of course, Dr. Gaul, I have summoned you all here today for the 10th annual Reaping Ceremony in which we choose two children from each district to throw into the Capitol Arena to fight to the death in the Hunger Games.”
He gestures to the top students, sitting in front of the room. “And here sit.. our own twenty-four top prospects all waiting to hear the results of hard study in this prestigious institution.” 
He pauses. “Eager to learn who’s won that Plinth Prize, no doubt. And a golden future. However, I am here to tell you that there’s been a change this year. One final assignment to prove your worth. Because… the esteemed citizens of the Capitol have grown bored of the Games and simply aren’t watching anymore. And if the games are to continue there must be an audience. So, Head Gamemaker Dr. Gaul has stepped in to… incentivize patriotic values with her own unique flair, starting with you. The Plinth Prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades.” 
The top students burst into a mixture of confusion and anger. “But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games. This is a brand new role. As the reaping progresses live, I will allocate each district tribute a capitol mentor behind the scenes, one who must just persuade them to perform for the cameras.” 
Someone calls out. “Obviously, the best mentor will be the one who’s tribute wins the game.” 
Arachne, an insufferable blonde girl, replies; “What if I get a pathetic runt girl from one of the poor districts, like 8 or 12? They’re just going to die in two minutes like they did last year and the year before.” 
“Your role is to turn these children into spectacles, Ms. Crane. Not survivors. Victory in the games is only one of our considerations. Your entire future rests on this last project. Oh, and I must tell you that anyone caught cheating to give their tributes an unfair advantage,” He laughs. “Will just not have any future at all.” The reaping music starts. “Oh! Here we go. Let the reaping begin.”
Dean Highbottom grabs cards and starts reading off the mentor to each tribute as the tributes are chosen. You zone out until you hear Coryo’s name. District 12, girl. Lucy Gray Baird, to be exact. The tribute walked to the stage, stuffing a snake into a girl’s dress on the way there— you wished you could’ve seen it, but the cameras panned away. When Lucy Gray got to the stage, she stood in front of the mic, and started singing. 
“You can’t take my past. You can’t take my history.” The room erupted in noises of confusion. “You could take my Pa, but his name’s a mystery. Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keepin’. Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping.”
“Singing? Is she out of her mind?” Arachne yells. Your eyes don’t stray from the screen. 
“Can’t take my charm. Can’t take my humor. You can take my wealth, cause it’s just a rumor. Nothing you can take, was ever worth keeping.” Lucy grabs the mic. “You can’t take my sass. You can’t take my talkin’. You can kiss my ass!” She lets go of the mic, making it thud, as she turns around to the peacekeepers. The room laughs at her. 
“Well, she’s mentally ill.” The blonde remarks. You all get up, you decide to wait a couple steps behind Coryo as Dean Highbottom speaks to him. 
“At least.. since the assignment is to turn them into spectacles.. at least Lucy Gray already is one.” You offer to your friend as the dean walks away. 
“Let’s go home.” He says instead. You frown, but start walking with him anyway. 
Once your at the Snow residence, Coryo tells Tigris everything, you chime in from time to time to add on.
 “He’s sabotaging us.” He looks at Tigris, and then to you. “That girl’s not going to win these games. You saw her. She’s underfed, unstable.” 
“The dean said it’s not just about winning.” You say.
“Everything is about winning. If not the Games now, then the crowd. Lucy Gray won’t survive a minute in that arena.” 
“So that means we have to make every second before then count.” Tigris says. 
The blonde nods. “I’ll get her to sing again.” 
You snort. “I wouldn’t sing a note for you, if I were her. I wouldn’t do anything at all, unless I could trust you.” Tigris nods.
“She’s district, Y/N.” He sighs. “She knows we hate her, and she wants us dead. How am I supposed to get her to trust me?” 
“Imagine it was your name that they pulled, and you had just been ripped out of your home. I’d just want to know that someone still cared about me out here.” Tigris says, softly. “Don’t discount her just because she’s district, Coryo. You might just have more in common with her than you think.” That is the difference between you and your best friend. She is so kind.. and you are.. you.
Coryo nods and stands up. “I think I know what I need to do.” He walks into his room with a short farewell. 
“What do you think he’s going to do?” Tigris asks. 
You furrow your brows. “If anyone knows, it’d be you.” Your best friend shakes her head. 
“I may know him the best, but you two are basically the same people. What would you do if you were him?” You think for a moment. What would you do? 
“Meet her at the train station.” You say with a nod. “Get her to trust me, and sing. Her singing is probably the only way he’s got a chance of winning.” 
“You’re right.” 
You sigh. “I just hope he is too.” With that, you stand up. “Well, I better get home. Love you, Tigris.” Your best friend stands up and hugs you. 
“I love you too, N/N. Have a good night.” 
You grab your bag which was on your chair and put it on your shoulder. “You too.” 
The next morning, you wait for Coryo outside like you usually do, but when there was no sign of him five minutes before class started, you sprint to class. 
You sat down next to Sejanus like usual. His face is full of confusion when Coriolanus doesn’t follow you. 
“Where’s Coryo?” 
“I don’t know, but I’ll be giving him an earful for not telling me I didn’t have to wait outside.” You whisper in response. You didn’t want all your classmates hearing the anger in your voice, but Sejanus knew you well, and besides, it wasn’t the first time Coryo made you mad. 
He laughs. “Sure you will. I’ve never seen you actually yell at him. He gives you one look and you melt.” 
You gape at him in offense. “I do not!” Sejanus goes to reply, but Dean Highbottom walks in, stealing all attention. He turns on the TV at the front of the room. It flicks on revealing Coriolanus and Lucy Gray Baird standing in a cage, holding hands. You are suddenly even angrier than before. 
“…But this dress was my Mama’s, so it’s extra special to me.” Lucy says, showing off the skirt with her free hand. 
“Mhm, and she’s in District 12?” Lucky, the reporter asks.
“Well only her bones, darlin’, only her bones.” Everything about her infuriates you. Her voice, her smile, her hair. “Do you know my mentor? Say’s his name’s Coriolanus Snow and clearly, I got the cake with the cream, ‘cause nobody else has even bothered to show up.” You curl your fists in your lap. 
“Did the gamemakers tell you to jump in the cage with them?” 
“They didn’t tell me not to.” You put your tongue in your cheek. ‘Didn’t tell you to hold her hand, either.’ You think to yourself. “They just said it was a mentor’s job to introduce our tributes to the citizens of Panem. And I thought, well, if Lucy Gray is brave enough to be here, then why shouldn’t I be, too?” Lucky hums.
“For the record, I didn’t have a choice.” Lucy Gray adds. 
“For the record,” Lucky looks at a couple of Peacekeepers making their way to the cage. “I think you’re about to be whisked away, young man.” Before you could see anymore, the camera pans away, following Lucky as he signs off. 
Thirty minutes later, Coryo waltzes into the classroom, he gives you a smile and you barely hold back a scowl. 
“Your little excursion was in violation of about five different Academy rules, Mr. Snow.” Dean Highbottom says. “Chief among them, endangering a Capitol student.” Coryo stops in his tracks, about to sit down in his seat beside you. 
“What, who?” 
“You. I’m moving for the Gamemakers to disqualify you immediately.” 
Coryo sits down. “You said we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away.” 
“I’ll add insubordination onto the list.” 
“Holding her hand, Coryo, introducing her to people, you make it look as if we’re one and the same as those people.” Clemensia spits. Although you agree with her, you stay quiet. 
Sejanus scoffs. “Coriolanus didn’t show those people anything that they didn’t already know—“
“I don’t need your help, Sejanus.” 
“—That the tributes are human beings. Just like us. That’s why nobody wants to watch the games. It’s because people know deep down that winning a war 10 years ago doesn’t justify starving people’s children, taking away their freedom, their rights.”  
“Snow fell down in the cage. It fell in the cage, but landed..” You look over to see Dr. Gaul in the doorway. She wears the same smug smile she always wears.
“On stage.” Coryo finishes her riddle. 
“You’re good at games. Maybe one day you’ll be a gamemaker like me.” 
“If the games continue at all.” Sejanus mumbles.
“Oh they’ll continue with performances like young Mr. Snow’s in that zoo. And I came here to ask your star mentor a question.” We all wait in anticipation. “What are the Hunger Games for?” Instead of waiting for Coryo to reply, you turn to the book on the table and read, blocking out the sounds of Sejanus and Dr. Gaul arguing. 
After class, you leave as quickly as possible, ignoring Coryo as he tries to stop you. When he stops, you glance back to see him frowning at you. A pang of guilt racks you, but you continue walking away. You knew it’d be bad to confront him now, you were more angry that Lucy Gray got his attention so quickly than anything. And you knew Coryo would see that.
You are able to avoid him until you are on your way to lunch, and he pulls you into a classroom. 
“Why have you been avoiding me?”
You sigh. “I’m hungry, Coriolanus. I know you are too, let’s go to lunch, please?” You move to open the door but he moves in front of it. 
“What is your problem?” 
“What’s yours?” 
“My problem is that you’re ignoring me! And you didn’t defend me to Highbottom!” 
You roll your eyes. “You told Sejanus not to.” 
“You’re not Sejanus.” 
You scoff. “Yeah well you were treating me like him.” 
Coryo scrunches his face up. “What?” 
“No warning this morning? I waited outside for you for thirty minutes.” You start. “And imagine my surprise, when I finally do go to class, that you blew me off for some district scum!” You spit. Coriolanus stares at you in shock. A second passes before you realize what you said. “I didn’t.. they aren’t scum, I didn’t mean that.” You rush out. 
“You did mean it.” It’s like a switch is flipped, and you can’t help but feel drawn to this side of him. A smirk slowly appears on his face. He takes a step towards you. “You know how much I need the prize, Y/N. Forgive me for not telling you?” He takes another step, and you back up, crossing your arms. “You know I’d never purposely blow you off for Lucy Gray.” He reaches his hand up to your face. A foreign gesture. Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Why don’t you come to the zoo with me later?” He gives you his signature smile and you melt. 
With a sigh, you nod. “Fine, whatever.” 
“Come on, wouldn’t want anyone catching us here alone, rumors may start.” You squint your eyes at your friend, was he flirting with you? “Lunch?” He offers you his arm, and you loop your own through it.  
In the cafeteria, you and Coryo sit at a table across from one another. You eat in silence, while Coryo tries to put food in his pocket. 
“Trying to fatten that girl up so you can finally start taking bets?” Sejanus asks, sitting in the other chair at the table.
“You think they’ll give those kids a scrap if we don’t give them a reason to do it? How do you think your tribute will have a chance if he can’t eat?” You reply, defending Coryo. 
Sejanus looks at the blonde boy. “I see you’ve already gotten back into Y/N’s good graces.” You roll your eyes, Coryo smiles slightly. Sejanus turns back to you. “He was my classmate, back in 2.” 
“It’s not your fault it’s him.” 
“See, I know. I’m so blameless, I’m choking on it.” He looks at his tray. “My Father bought him for me, you know, at the Reaping, just so he could show me that I could never go back..But being Capitol is going to change me.” He admits quietly. 
“So do something about it.” You say.  
“Quite the rebel.” Sejanus jokes. 
“Oh yeah, N/N’s bad news.” Coryo says with a nod. You laugh.
Later, you and the boys go to the zoo. Sejanus immediately tries to talk to Marcus, while you and Coryo look for Lucy Gray. 
“Lucy Gray!” The blonde calls out as you approach the cage. “This is Y/N Rose, a good friend of mine.” 
“Well hello there, Y/N.” It takes everything in you to smile. 
“Hi, quite a show you put on at the Reaping. Beautiful voice.” 
She tilts her head to the side with a smile. “Oh stop, you’ll make me blush.” Coryo pulls the food out of his pocket. “That for us? Jessup!” You furrow your brows. What was she doing? 
“I’m not hungry.” A boy, the other tribute from 12, replies. 
“Do you think I can’t hear your stomach growling, Jessup Diggs? Come on.” Jessup gets up and takes half of the food, and then sits back down. 
You wince, seeing a nasty bite on his neck. “What happened to his neck?” You ask.
“A bat bite. The first night on the train, he didn’t sleep a wink the whole journey ‘cause he was keeping the bats off me so I would get some rest.” Noble. ‘Is he not aware of the whole fighting to the death thing?’ You wonder. 
“Can you take it?” You look over to see Arachne taunting a tribute. “Come on, try harder than that.” 
“One thing I learned in twelve, is that hunger is a weapon.” She gestures to Arachne. “Your friend over there sure knows it.” 
“She isn’t our friend.” Coryo says quickly. 
“She’s poison with perfect teeth.” You roll your eyes. 
“Are you going to share everything that I give you with Jessup?”
“Why? You think I ought to build up my strength so I can strangle him in the arena?” She laughs. “Not exactly my forte.” 
“I might have a chance to help you, make some suggestions to the gamemakers. I might even be able to get the audience to send you gifts in the arena. Food and water to keep you going.” He pauses. “You just have to try singing again to win people over.” 
Lucy Gray crosses her arms. “I don’t sing when I’m told, I sing when I’ve got something to say. Besides, I’ve seen your arena, there’s no place to hide.”
“What’s your point?” 
“The guards say you get money if you get more people to watch and you say you wanna help me, so which one is it?” You look at Coryo, wanting to hear his answer. Knowing he would say he wants to help her, but hoping that he’d crush her instead. 
“Both.” You look down to conceal your smile. 
“One more time!” Arachne yells. 
“I’m not playing this game.” The tribute replies.
“Come on!” 
“You shut up.” She growls.
“Uh.. No, thank you. I saw you staring.” 
“Please.” 
“Give me something. I’ve been sitting here for 15 minutes!” 
“Always thought there was plenty of food in the Capitol.” Lucy Gray says, staring at Arachne and the tribute. 
“You know, one time, during the war, I ate a whole jar of paste just to take away the ache.” You look at Coryo sadly. You remembered that day, 
“How was it?” 
“Pasty.” You smile. 
“That little one, she’s so sweet. So young.” Lucy Gray points at a young girl sitting on a rock. “Something about her reminds me of my cousin Maude Ivory. I can’t stand to think of them without me.” 
“I’m sorry.” Coryo replies. 
She gives you both a pained smile. “You two seem like a good match.” 
You shake your head. “Oh— Well—“ 
“Thank you.” Coryo interrupts you. You glance at him, but his face gives nothing away. You aren’t sure what was happening with Coriolanus, was he trying to hint at something?
“Come on, just take it.” Arachne taunts again. This time, the tribute takes the bottle, and breaks it. She then uses the broken bottle to slit Arachne’s throat.
You gasp. “Oh my—“  You grab onto Coryo, He pushes you behind some peacekeepers as he runs for Arachne. “Coryo! Stop— What are you doing!?” Fear racks your body, and your eyes fill with tears as the peacekeepers start firing without a target. The tribute that slit Arachne’s throat fell, being shot at least twice. Peacekeepers forcefully remove Coriolanus from Arachne while others grab her body. You run over to Coryo and hug him tightly. “A-Are you okay? Were you shot?” You pull away and scan him. 
“I’m fine, were you hurt?” You shake your head and hug him again. 
That night, you sat on the Snow’s couch, Tigris’s arms around you, completely silent. 
“It’s starting again. This is how it begins, the war.” The Grandma’am says. 
“It was my fault.” Coriolanus replies quietly. “I suggested that we meet the tributes.” 
“You’re just lucky that your songbird didn’t peck out your eyes, too.” 
“She’s not a rebel, Grandma’am. She’s just a girl.” Tigris argues.
The old woman laughs. “Trust me, that one hasn’t been a girl in a long time. Outside this Capitol, they’re savages, one and all. However they may smile, she will use you. You must use her too, or you’ll end up dead in the trees like your Father.” You reach out and put a hand on Coryo’s shoulder. He doesn’t react, and the four of you sit in silence for a moment. 
“I should go home, see my parents.” You give a pained smile. “Can’t spend my whole life here.” Tigris smiles at you. “I’ll stop by tomorrow with dinner.” You stand up, giving Tigris a quick hug, and then giving the Grandma’am a kiss on the cheek. 
The next day was even worse. All of the mentors went to the arena with their tributes, and after five minutes, the arena was bombed by rebels. You didn't even know until Sejanus came knocking on your door hours later to tell you that Coriolanus was injured. You ran to the hospital. 
“Tigris!” You whisper-shout when you walk in. She quickly stands up and rushes over to you. “How is he?” 
She engulfs you in a hug. “Okay. Nothing is broken.” You let out a breath of relief. You let go of her and walk to the side of his bed where two chairs were. You sit in one of them, Tigris going to sit in the other. You look at him sleeping soundly, he looked fine.
A tear falls down your face, but you quickly wipe it away. “How long has he been asleep?” 
“Couple of hours, he passed out after Lucy Gray saved him.” Your neck snaps to Tigris. 
“She saved him?”
Your best friend nods. “Something collapsed on his leg, she lifted it for him, got him out.” 
You furrow your brows. “I’ll be back.” You kiss Tigris’s cheek. “There’s food in my bag, eat some?” She nods. You rush out, heading straight for the zoo. 
“Lucy Gray!” You yell when you get there. It was starting to get dark, so there were more peacekeepers than usual. “Lucy Gray Baird!” You call out again. Finally, the girl pops her head up from behind a rock, her face morphs into confusion when she sees you, but she stands and walks towards you. 
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” 
“You saved him.” She nods slowly. Tears pool in your eyes again. “They said he may not wake up until tomorrow.” The tribute deflates. 
“Well.. I appreciate you telli—“
“Do you need anything?” You interrupt, swallowing your pride. 
“Well.. Coriolanus said he’d get me a guitar for the interview tomorrow night.” You nod. 
“I’ll get it for you, and if he doesn’t make it to the interview I’ll have Sejanus, he’s the boy from 2’s mentor, give it to you.”
“I appreciate that, but, aren’t I competition? Why would he help me out?” 
“Sejanus doesn’t see things like we do. Plus, his tribute escaped, he’s already lost the prize.” 
“Okay then. I appreciate you, Y/N Rose.” You nod. 
“Sleep as well as you can.. I know it’s hard on the ground, but..” You pause. “Coryo needs this prize.” Lucy Gray cocks her head to the side. 
“Don’t you mean I need to win the games?” 
You shrug. “They go hand in hand.” 
“Hm.” She nods. “You have a good night, Rose.” You turn around with a wave, and head back to the hospital. 
“Where’d you go?” Tigris asks as you sit beside her. 
“Zoo. Needed to make sure Lucy Gray was taken care of.” She nods. “Has he woken up yet?”
Tigris smiles. “For a minute. He asked about you.” 
You glance at Tigris, trying to not sound so eager. “What did he say?” 
“He wanted to make sure someone had told you, and then he wanted to know where you were. I told him you ran home to change.” 
You nod.  “Thanks.” You look at the clock on the wall. It was already eight. “If you want to go home, you can. I know you have work tomorrow. I’ll stay here.” 
“Are you sure?” 
You nod. “I told my Mom I would be at yours all night.” 
“You’re an angel.” She hugs you. “Get some rest, N/N.” 
“You too.”  
Tigris came back a few hours later so you could actually go home and change, but then she had work. You sit with Coryo all day. Your Mother stops by around three to drop off some food. 
“Are you coming home tonight?” She asks. 
You glance up from the food. “Probably not, doc said Coriolanus would be up soon, so I’ll probably help Tigris look after him tonight. She does work, so she’ll need to rest.” 
“The Games are tomorrow, Y/N. You need to get some rest too.” 
“Oh! Speaking of, Lucy Gray needs a guitar for an interview. It’d be a shame to buy a new one since.. Well, since she won’t be around to enjoy it. Would you mind getting Tessa’s and giving it to Sejanus when he goes?” 
She tilts her head to the side. “Does your sister know about this?”
“She will when you tell her?” You scrunch your shoulders up and give her a smile. 
Your Mom huffs. “Fine. What time will Sejanus be at the house?” 
“In an hour.” 
“Okay. I love you.”  
“Yeah, you too.” She leans down and kisses your cheek, you return the gesture, she then leaves. 
Two hours later, Sejanus walks in. 
“Y/N? Hey.” You glance up from the pants you’re sewing.
“Oh, hello, Sejanus.” You place the pants on the table beside you, carefully placing the needle on top. “Why aren’t you at the interview?” 
He shrugs and sits down beside you. “Wanted to watch it with him, I guess. And you. You guys are my best friends.” ��What? He barely knows me.’ You think to yourself. You smile. 
“Oh, alright then.” You grab the remote and turn on the TV. The interviews were about to start. 
“Has he woken up yet?” 
“Once last night. I was at the zoo, but Tigris was here.” 
“Speaking of, where is she?” 
“Work. Did you get the guitar?”
 He nods. “Yes! Lucy Gray is ready.” 
You give him a small smile. “Good. Thank you.”
He shrugs. “I want him to win the prize. I dunno how I’d survive University without you both.” You nod and turn to the TV, the girl from district 3 was being interviewed. She was the first, since all of the tributes from 1 and 2 were dead or, in the boy from 2’s case, on the run. 
You and Sejanus watched in silence until the girl from 11 came on stage, and Coryo started stirring. 
“Coryo?” You stand up and stand at the edge of his bed. He slowly opens his eyes. 
“Y/N?”
You grin. “Coryo! Right on time, Lucy Gray is almost up.” You nod to the TV. 
“How’re you feeling?” Sejanus asks, standing. 
“Fine, really. So, they’re actually going on with the Games?” Sejanus nods. “Wow.” 
“I first met this young lady in the zoo not too long ago,” You glance at the TV, Lucky was about to introduce Lucy Gray. 
“She’s coming on.” You tell them, sitting down on the edge of the bed. 
“From District 12, Lucy Gray Baird! Get over here with that guitar, you songbird!” Lucy Gray walks on wearing your sister’s guitar. 
“Did you get her that?” Coriolanus asks. You glance back and smile.
“I went to thank her for saving you, she mentioned you were going to get her one.” He smiles back at you, searching your eyes. “You’re very welcome.” You wink and turn back to the TV. 
“…We fell on hard times, and we lost our bright colours, you went to the dogs and I lived by my charms.” Lucy Gray sings. The donations start going up. 
You reach back and place a hand on Coryo’s forearm. A moment passes, as you watch the donations pile up, Coryo slowly moves his arm and slots your fingers together. Butterflies erupt in your stomach. 
“…So who will you turn to tomorrow, I wonder? For when the bell rings, lover, you’re on your own.” 
“It’s working.” Coryo says, breathing a laugh. 
“Of course it is.” You look back at your friend with a grin. “Snow lands on top.” 
He smirks. “Snow lands on top.”
The interview ends and Sejanus leaves soon after, leaving you alone with Coryo. 
“I brought you food, it’s cold now, but I can get it heated up for you.” You tell your friend as you turn to him. 
“Y/N, thank you… For everything you’ve done to help me.”
 You smile and squeeze his hand. “You and Tigris are my best friends.” 
“You’re my best friend too.” He hesitantly sits up. “Will you help me get home?” 
“Sure, you need to get some rest, big day tomorrow.” You stand up. “I’ll go tell a nurse.” 
The next day was the start of The Hunger Games. You got up especially early so that you could have breakfast at the Snow’s and then go with Coriolanus to watch the games. 
“Tigris? Coryo?” You call out, entering the penthouse. 
“Hello, Y/N.” The Grandma’am says from the table. 
You walk over with a smile. “Good Morning! How did you sleep?” 
She shakes her head. “I barely slept. Whispers of another rebellion keep me up.” 
You give her a sympathetic look. “I’ll keep you safe if there is one. You can come with me to my family’s bunker.” The Grandma’am gives you a wary look as if you couldn’t be trusted. She did that with everyone these days, although she had yet to do it to you too.
“Good morning!” You hear Tigris say as she leaves her room. 
“Morning. I brought food.” You open your bag and pull out containers.
“Of course you did.” She sits down beside you. “How did you sleep?” 
“Fine, I’m nervous for today.” Tigris frowns, as if she’d forgotten what today is. Coryo steps out of his room a second later. 
“Good Morning.” He sits down beside The Grandma’am, giving her a kiss on the cheek. There are circles under his eyes. 
You give each of them a portion of the food you brought. “Someone didn’t sleep.” You tease. 
“I went to see Lucy Gray last night.” 
You furrow your brows. “After I left?” He nods. Why would he do that? “Too bad you didn’t tell me. I would’ve loved to see her one more time.” Tigris’s eyes flicker between you two. 
“You don’t think she’ll win?” No. 
You smile sweetly. “Of course I do, Coryo. But when she does she’ll be shipped back to 12. We’ll probably never see her again.” Coryo seems to believe you, and sinks into his seat. Your stomach aches from jealousy. 
A few minutes pass, and once all of you are done eating, you stand. “Well, I think we ought to be on our way.” Coryo nods, and stands up as well. “See you soon, T.”
“Have a good day, I’ll be watching from work!” Tigris stands up and gives you and Coryo each a kiss on the cheek. 
When you walk downstairs there’s a car waiting for you like usual. You slide into the backseat and Coriolanus follows. Once you’re both buckled, you close the privacy screen between you and the driver. 
“Why did you go alone last night?” You ask suddenly. 
Coryo raises his eyebrows. “I felt like I needed to tell her thank you, like you did.” 
“All alone at night?” You chastise. “Did you learn nothing from Arachne? You could have been killed!”
He scoffs. “They’re in a cage.”
“The Peacekeepers aren’t.” 
“The Peacekeepers aren’t going to shoot me.” 
“Not purposely but they’re awful shots! You saw what they did when Arachne was attacked, why did you put yourself in that position?” 
He sighs. “I was giving her something.” He admits. “She isn’t going to win on her own, so I gave her something, is that what you wanted to hear?” 
You blink at him in surprise. “What did you give her?”
“It’s best if you don’t know. If Highbottom finds out I don’t want you dragged into it.” 
“But I want to be dragged into it. Coryo, do you know what they’ll do to you if they find this out?”
Your friend scowls. “Of course I know. But this is the only way I have a chance at winning.”
“Coryo, you’ve already completed the assignment. Lucy Gray is a spectacle.” 
“You and I both know he won’t give it to me unless she wins so just forget about it.” You frown and scoot closer to him, laying your head down on his shoulder.
“Maybe I should just save up my allowance for a while and I could give it to you–”
“No, Y/N–”
“It wouldn’t cover the whole thing but it’d make a dent in the tuition at least.”
“No. I’m not letting you do that.” 
You can feel tears filling your eyes. “Then Lucy Gray has to win. I won’t survive The University without you.” 
He grabs one of your hands. “She will.” 
You walked into The Academy hand in hand with Coryo, you tried to let go before you got out of the car, thinking he wouldn’t want people to see, but he just picked it back up. 
When you walked into the room the games were being viewed in, Dean Highbottom walked up to you. “That friend of yours, Plinth,” He starts, nodding to Sejanus who was talking to another classmate of yours. “You might want to find him a seat near the door.” He grimaces before walking away. 
“Weird.” You mumble. 
“Coryo, Y/N!” Sejanus calls. He walks up to you both. 
“Hey.” Coryo replies, his face stone. 
“How’re you doing? You alright?” 
The blonde nods. “Better.”
Sejanus grimaces. “Tell me this will be over quickly.” The screen in front of the room turns on revealing some tributes. 
“We should take our seats.” You say. You turn to Coryo with a smile. “Good luck.” You squeeze his hand and then walk over to the viewing stands. 
“Everyone, as you know, we’re about to go live.” Lucky starts. “Just because you’re not hosting doesn’t mean you're off the hook, help me! Don’t get lost behind your screens. No yawning, no gum chewing, keep your chins down, heads up, shoulders back, and smile! It's why we have teeth.” He grins. “Okay, ready? We’re gonna start guys. Five, four, three, two…” An orchestra plays and the cameras turn on. “Good morning, I’m Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman. A man who needs no introduction. Weatherman, amateur magician, and today, I’m honored to say, first ever host of The Hunger Games!” Everyone breaks into applause, you join in, clapping unenthusiastically. “In my hand, an envelope, sealed. My prediction, the winner, will be opened by me, at the end of the big show’s end.” He brings his hand up to his ear. “We’re getting word… alright, we’re about to start! We’re starting everyone! Happy Hunger Games!” He turns to the students. “Remember, when your tribute dies, get out.”
You can hear the Tributes entering the arena, and reluctantly walking to their marks. Then, you see something else. Marcus was tied up, half dead, in the middle of the Arena. You gasp with the rest of the room. 
Sejanus stands up in shock. “Marcus!” He yells.
Lucky grimaces. “Guess we can all sleep better now that we know he’s off the streets!” 
“You’re monsters!” Sejanus shouts at the Dean. “All of you!” He runs out. The countdown starts at ten. You sit up straighter. 
“Jessup! Jessup!” Lucy Gray shouts. You furrow your brows. Everyone around her started running to the pile of weapons in the middle of the Arena. 
“What is she doing?” You mumble. Reaper, the biggest tribute, runs straight at Lucy Gray with a scythe, but she ducks. Then Coral, the girl tribute from 4 runs at her with a trident. She dodges the first and second blows before backing up and dodging the third, causing Coral to impale another tribute through the stomach. 
One of your classmates leans down and throws up. You scrunch up your face in disgust. 
Two tributes were already dead. Lucy Gray rolls off of the rubble, narrowly missing an axe swung by the boy from 7. She stands up and manages to get away from two more strikes before someone throws a knife, hitting the boy's arm. Another knife is thrown way too close to Lucy Gray. 
She looks around, finally finding Jessup across the arena. She screams his name again and climbs on top of the rubble, knocking out one of the other tributes with her elbow once she gets up. She rolls off the other side, making brief eye contact with Coral, who pulls her trident out of someone’s chest. 
Lucy Gray reaches Jessup and pulls him up, shouting about how they had to go now. Some of the other tributes already started chasing them, but Lucy Gray manages to run into some of the tunnels, dragging Jessup with her. 
“They’ve gone underground quickly, but we’ve prepared for this!” The cameras switch and you can see Lucy Gray again. 
They run through the tunnels, checking all the doors that they pass. Every single one is locked.
“What you’re seeing now, is a live feed of security cameras.” 
“C’mon..” You grip the bench. 
Coral and her group enter the tunnels, and Lucy Gray starts frantically looking for some hiding place. She finally gets through a small entrance on the bottom of a door, then, she pulls Jessup through it. 
Two other tributes are found by Coral’s group in the tunnels. They are slaughtered on sight. 
“Do you think they’re done?” One of your classmates asks. 
“Looks like it.” Lucky turns to the cameras. “To the children watching, that was violent, horrific, and disgusting.” He turns to the girl that threw up. “Ms. Phipps, please, if you’re going to vomit, do it off camera.” He gives her a pitiful smile and then looks at the camera. “Thirteen tributes still remain. Reaper still looming large on top of the charts, while Coral and her pack try to make a play. Six tributes gone in minutes. If they keep it going up at this pace, we’re gonna be outta here in no time!” He then starts giving the weather report. 
You stand up and walk over to Coryo’s seat, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“She survived the worst part of the games, who's to say she won’t survive the rest?” You give him a lazy smile which he returns. 
“Rose, back to your seat. The rules for spectators are very clear.” Highbottom reprimands. You nod at the dean and squeeze Coryo’s shoulder before walking away. 
You stay there until 8, when all viewers are forced to leave.  You give Coryo a small wave and a smile before you leave, he only waves in response. He looks exhausted. 
At midnight, Dr. Gaul shows up on your doorstep. 
“You need to come with me, now.” 
You squint your eyes. “Why?”
“It’s about your friend.” 
Your brows furrow in concern. “Is it Coryo? Is he okay?” Was he caught? Was Dr. Gaul here to bring you in for questioning?
“Mr. Snow is fine, it’s Sejanus Plinth that’s in trouble. I don’t know how he broke in, or who he bribed, but Sejanus Plinth is currently in The Hunger Games arena and I need you and ‘Coryo’ to get him out.” 
You sigh. You always did have a feeling this ‘friendship’ with Sejanus was going to end up costing more than it’s worth. “Fine. Let’s go.” 
Dr. Gaul ends up taking you to a car that Coryo was already sitting in. She doesn’t blink twice when you sit next to him, or when he holds your hand, something that’s become a daily thing at this point.
When you arrive at the arena, you and Coryo are ushered through the gate. You both wince at the turnstile as you walk through it, it was loud enough without the voice announcing, “Enjoy the show” for all of the tributes to hear. 
Coryo pulls you closer to him and you put up no fight. You walk towards Sejanus as fast and as quiet as you can. You’re incredibly paranoid, frantically looking around you at all times. 
“Thought they’d send my Ma.” He murmurs when you get close.
“We wish they had.” You reply, venom lacing your voice. Sejanus didn’t even flinch. 
“You guys need to go.” 
“We’d like to, we really would. But we promised we’d get you out.”
“Why?” 
“Because you're our friend.” Coryo says. You want to say ‘Speak for yourself!’ but you don’t. 
“I had to do this. I had to go where the cameras are.” His voice breaks. 
“Do you actually think anyone is watching this?” You butt in. “Gaul cut the feed.” 
“Tributes kill you in here and she’s just going to say it’s the flu.” Coryo’s tone was startling. It was vicious. You barely had a chance to react when you heard a footstep. “You need to decide right now. Do you wanna fight these tributes, or fight for them? Because if you’re going to make real change, you have to stay alive.”
“How can I make any change from out there?”
“You’re rich, and smart, and you care.” You reply shakily. You need to get out of there. Every bone in your body is screaming at you to run. 
Coryo nods. “You’re the only one in that class who stood up to Gaul, right?” You can hear metal scraping, and though you try to convince yourself it wasn’t a knife, you still cling to Coryo’s arm. “We’re dead right now if we don’t leave. Come with us, spend your Father’s money on some good, or just be another dead body in Dr. Gaul’s war.” You can’t open your mouth to voice your desperation to leave, so you continue to look around. “Trust me, please.” 
Then you hear it. A boy tribute was shouting at you as he ran towards you with a knife. 
“Run!” Sejanus yells. You book it to the exit, but you were the slowest out of the three of you. Coryo’s grip on your hand remained tight as you all ran. 
As you get to the turnstiles, the tribute grabs your other hand, causing you to scream. He plunges his knife into your hand making blood spray everywhere, and you barely acknowledge it before Coryo grabs a plank of wood and hits the Tribute over the head. He hits him with all his force four times. You weren’t sure which one was the killing blow. You didn’t think about it for long, either, because as soon as Coryo started to pull you again, you realized that the knife was still in your hand, and blood was still gushing from it. 
You lean on Coryo in the car ride to Dr. Gaul’s office. You can barely stay awake, but both your friend and the esteemed Gamemaker insist that you stay conscious. Something about blood loss. You scarcely remember anything leading up to your arrival at Dr. Gaul’s office; Just that you were given some blood in an IV, stitched up, and given some morphling for the pain. Thankfully, you were right as rain once the adrenaline went down. You were exhausted, yes, but back in your right mind. 
You walk outside of Dr. Gaul’s office to find Coryo waiting on a couch. 
“Are you waiting on me?” You ask. He looks up at you, as if he hadn’t noticed you yet. You tilt your head at him, but he just stands up and walks over to you. 
“You’re okay.” The blonde places a hand on your cheek, you lean into it. 
“I am. I’m very tired, and my hand hurts, but I’ll be okay in the morning.” 
He lets out a breath of relief. “Good. That’s good.” 
“Don’t you have to get back to the Academy?” 
He nods. “I’m going to walk you home first.” 
You shake your head, but a smile tugs at your mouth. “You don’t have to do that.” 
“I do. You lost a lot of blood, and I won’t be able to forgive myself if something else happens to you.” 
You furrow your brows. “Coryo.. This wasn’t your fault.” 
“I should have told her not to send you in.” 
“You think she would have listened to you?” You laugh. “You’re charming, Snow, but I don’t think your smile can capture Dr. Gaul.” 
He smirks.“What’s this about my smile?”
You roll your eyes to try and seem annoyed, but your smile betrays you. “There’s the Coriolanus I know. Welcome back Mr. President, I missed you.” 
“Happy to be back.” 
You giggle. “I’m sure you are.” His eyes flicker to your lips. You lean in slightly, begging him to kiss you. He listens to you. It’s three seconds long, you wish it lasted forever. Butterflies flew in your stomach, dancing in joy. 
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that.” He whispers. 
You snicker. “Please, I’ve had feelings for you since I was twelve.” You accidentally confess. 
Coryo’s smirk grows. “Really?” 
Your face drops. “No. I never said that.” 
“Which part? That you have feelings for me, or that you’ve had them since you were twelve?” You cringe. 
“Yes?” 
“Oh well, no going back on it now.”
“I think there is.” 
“I’ve had feelings for you since I was sixteen.” 
You tilt your head to the side in faux surprise. “Only two years!?” You shake your head. “You have some catching up to do.” Coryo laughs, and leans in to kiss you again. You reciprocate immediately. 
You walked back to the penthouses hand in hand, something that Tigris immediately clocked when you stepped into their home. Previously, Coryo waited till you were outside to pick up your hand. She gave you a secretive grin, saying that she needed you to tell her everything, you gave her a nod. 
“Why are you back so late?” Tigris asks you. 
“Dr. Gaul sent us in the Arena tonight, Tigris.” You let go of Coryo’s hand to take off your coat. You look at him in time to see his face fall at the mention of the arena. How could you have forgotten what he had to do there? You silently curse yourself.
Tigris’ face suddenly gets serious.“What?” 
You and Coryo sit across from Tigris. “To get Sejanus out.” 
“What happened, are you guys okay?” 
Coryo replies this time. “I killed one of the tributes. A boy.” You grab his hand again. 
“That must have been awful.” She says, grasping her chest. 
“It was.” He pauses. “Then it felt.. powerful.” You don’t respond, but he sees something shimmer in your eyes. Something that tells him you’re not afraid of him. 
“Coryo,” Tigris starts, he finds the total opposite response in her eyes. “I know you want to be like your Father, but what I remember most about him, was that in his eyes, the only thing there was hate.” She pauses. “You don’t have to pay the same price to survive. You can be good.” Coryo scoffs. “You are good. Believe that, believe me.” 
“I’m going to go back to the Academy.” He stands up, giving you both a kiss on the cheek before leaving. 
“What was that? Holding hands, kissing on the cheek? He doesn’t usually do that.” 
You smile slightly, looking at your lap. “I dunno. Lately things have been different, he’s been holding my hand a lot.. and today he killed that tribute for me.” 
“What?” 
You nod and hold up your bandaged hand. “I think his name was Bobbin? He stabbed my hand when we tried to leave.. Then he was on the ground, and Coryo was over him with a plank of wood. Next thing I know I’m walking out of Dr. Gaul’s office.” You leave out the kiss. The timing wasn't right. 
“Wow. I’m so glad he was there.” Tigris pulls you in for a hug. “I’m even happier you’re okay. I couldn’t stand to lose you.” 
The next morning you were back at the Academy as soon as they let people back into the viewing room. You aren’t allowed to talk to Coryo this time, but he nodded to you when you walked in, and you smiled at him as you sat behind him.
“Wakey, wakey, my Capitol friends! I’m Lucky Flickerman and welcome to day two of The 10th Annual Hunger Games! Now, while most of you were getting your sleep last night, something scintillating happened. Bobbin from District 8, slaughtered. Which one of these beasts killed Bobbin? Well it doesn’t matter. Reaper is still at the top of the boards,” 
As Lucky drones on, a classmate of yours Lyssie, pipes up. “Why aren’t they showing us who killed the little boy? It doesn’t make sense, he was killed right there and there are clearly cameras surrounding him.” You tense up as she wonders aloud. She was Bobbin’s tribute. 
“They said they were old, Lyssie. Probably just another one of Coral’s gang.” Festus replies, shrugging. 
The cameras cut to Lucy Gray and Jessup, still in the same spot they were when you left last night. Jessup gasps, waking up Lucy Gray. He starts frothing at the mouth, and you furrow your brows.
“What did you do to me?” He asks. 
“Nothing!” Lucy Gray yells back. 
“Lyssie, what is he doing?” Coryo demands. 
The girl stares at the screen in confusion. “Something’s wrong. He wouldn’t turn on her like this.” Lucy Gray stands up and starts running, leaving the room she’s in, and the tunnels. 
“Go to the stands.. Go to the stands!” Coryo shouts at the screen. 
“Stop running! What did you..” Jessup groans. “What did you do to me?” Lucy Gray starts to run across the arena. 
“I didn’t do anything!” She reaches a pile of debris and starts climbing one of the collapsed pillars. It flicks to Jessup’s face again, as foam drips out of his mouth, he starts to climb the pillar too. 
“The foam! The posters from the war— Rabies!” You yell, barely being able to construct a sentence. 
“Y/N is right. Send him water.” Coryo tells Lyssie. 
“Wait what?”
“You remember those posters in the war?” She nods. “Rabies makes you afraid of water. Send him a drone.” 
“It’ll scare him!” That was true. Yesterday, the only drone that was sent went haywire, dropping the water on the tribute. 
“Yes, away from her. Jessup is done, Lyssie, you’re the only one who can get it right to him.” She bites her cheek, but looks down at her computer and selects the water. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing to be proud of.” The drone flies in. 
“What’s wrong with me? What did you do to me?” Jessup gets dangerously close to Lucy Gray, but the drone hits him, breaking the bottle of water, and splashing all over him. He backs up off of the pillar with a scream. Lucy Gray climbs down and leans over him. 
“Jessup? I’m not going anywhere, okay? You watched over me, now I’m going to watch over you. Sleep, Jessup, sleep now.” The boy whimpers.  
Suddenly, Coral’s group enters the middle, slowly walking towards Lucy Gray. They circle her, spouting taunts. 
“Oh look at that, the pack doing what it does best. Packing it in.” Lucky narrates. “Lucy Gray is cornered, Mr. Snow going for his communipad.” You look at Coryo’s screen to see him sending ten waters to Lucy Gray. The drones fly in, hitting the group. A bunch of the waters break, causing dust to stir in the air, and broken glass to be thrown everywhere. Lucy Gray runs over to a fan, maneuvering it open, and then shutting it. 
“These drones aren’t very good.” Coryo says, acting innocent. You grin. 
“Hey! You can’t attack the tributes!” Festus yells.
“I’m just sending water.” 
You look back at the screen. Lucy Gray leaves the air duct, running to the water, and placing down the one she brought with her, dumping out all the rest. She ran back to her hiding place immediately. Coral was killing the girl from District 2, while her group watched. When she was done, she walked over to the water. One of the other Tributes held the last one in his hand, about to take a drink. 
“Hey, do you really think you deserve that water, right now, Tanner?” A sound from across the arena interrupts them. Wovey, another tribute, ran into the tunnels. “This should be fun.” Coral says as she runs after her. The group follows her. 
Once the door to that tunnel shuts, Dill, the youngest tribute in this Game, limps out from behind some debris. 
“Ah, what do we have here? Oh! It’s Ill Dill, tuberculosis on legs.” She goes to the water and takes a sip. A second passes before she starts coughing, a common plague with her. This time, however, she doesn’t stop. She coughs, and coughs, until blood splatters from her mouth, and she falls back onto the ground, dead. You put your hand on your chest, to seem upset. 
Reaper jogs up to her, calling out her name. He leans down over her for a moment, shaking her, crying. When he stands up, he brings her body to the center of the arena, he goes around bringing every body over to the center, piling them. He then gets up and walks over to one of the flags hanging, grabs it, and pulls. It falls down with ease, you weren’t even sure how it managed to stay up throughout the bombing.
 He lays it over the bodies and falls to his knees. “Are you going to punish me now!?” Reaper screams into the sky. “Are you—“ 
“Capitol students,” The screen switches to a different broadcast, revealing Dr. Gaul. “I’m afraid I must interrupt our Games to announce a tragic loss, one that affects us all. Felix Ravinstill, the son of our beloved president, has, this morning, succumbed to his injuries sustained in the rebel bombing. Out there in the districts, they will be celebrating this young boy's death as a triumph. I will not allow my Games to give our enemy such a victory. I swear to you, here and now, before the sun goes down tonight, a rainbow of destruction will engulf our arena. Even if it means there's to be no victor in these Games.” You furrow your brows. Coryo stands up, making eye contact with you before he looks at the Dean. 
“I need to see Dr. Gaul immediately.” He didn’t say anything else before he left the room. You frown before turning back to the screen.
Thirty minutes later, Tigris arrives. Her hair was nicely curled and she wore a pink pantsuit made of dreams. She must have borrowed fabric from her boss, Fabricia.
“You look beautiful!” You say with a grin as you hug your best friend. 
“Oh please, you should look at yourself.” She sits down beside you.
“I don’t hold a candle to you.”
She shakes her head. “Where’s Coryo?” 
“He went to see Dr. Gaul, he’ll be back any minute.” 
“Why’d he go see her?” 
You shrug. “I expect we’ll find out in a few minutes.”
As if on cue, Coryo rushes back in seconds later. “Lucy Gray, is she okay?” 
“She won’t be for long.” Festus replies. 
“Wait, what’s wrong with Treech?”
You look at the screen, Treech suddenly starts coughing, just like Dill did before she died. You didn’t think anything of Dill’s death, but Treech was fine before. When he coughs up blood and falls to the floor, you know what happened. Coriolanus gave Lucy Gray rat poison. That’s why she left a water bottle. She must have put some in the water. Your mind is swirling with potential scenarios, if you’ve already found this out, Dr. Gaul definitely has. 
You hear the wind start blowing, causing you to snap back to reality. Something was being lowered down into the arena, and Lucy Gray was finally out of the air vents. The huge cylinders get set down, and the drones fly off. They start to crack, before both cylinders break, and millions of colorful snakes fall out. You gasp. 
Wovey comes out from her hiding spot, curious as to what everyone was so surprised about. “Is it over now? Can we go home?” The snakes went after her immediately. 
“Wovey!” Reaper cried. “Wovey, no!” The little girl screams as the snakes wrap around her legs and bite down. 
The arena bursts into chaos. Everyone remaining was taken by the snakes, all but Lucy Gray, who sat on the mountain of debris with snakes covering every inch of her body as she sang. They weren’t hostile towards her. 
“It’s over! Dr. Gaul! Dr. Gaul you need to get her out of there!” Coryo screamed at the Gamemaker. 
You stood, going over to Coryo. “Dr. Gaul, let her out, she won, you have to let her out.” 
“It’s over!” The entire room shouts at her. 
“Get her out.” The Gamemaker finally says. 
“Yes!” The room cheers. You jump into Coryo’s arms, hugging him tightly. 
“You did it!” You yell. You pull away and grab his face. “You did it, Coryo! You won!” He laughs. 
“I won!” He places his forehead against yours, before backing up and giving Tigris a hug as well. 
Later that night, you, Coryo, and Tigris opened a bottle of champagne in their living room. 
“To Coriolanus Snow, winner of The 10th Annual Hunger Games!” You toast clinking your glasses together before taking a drink. 
Tigris finishes her glass in one drink. “Okay, as much as I’d love to continue celebrating, I have work tomorrow so we’ll have to celebrate this weekend.” She stands up, kissing you both on the cheek. “Goodnight! Congratulations, Coryo.” 
“Goodnight, T!”
“Goodnight.”
The second she disappeared behind her bedroom door, you set down your glass, then took Coryo’s to set his down as well. 
“What are you doing?” You look at him, and lean in to kiss him. His hands instinctively go to your waist, and yours go to his shoulders. This kiss is longer than your previous ones, you savor each other as you move in sync. 
When you break, giddy grins take over both of your faces. “I wasn’t able to do that before.” You say with a small shrug. 
“Maybe you should do it again, you know, to make up for it.” You roll your eyes but lean in again.
Two hours later, you and Coryo were laying on the couch, silently looking at one another as you traced his features. “You’re so handsome, Coryo.” 
“Thank you.” He cusps your cheek. “I don’t deserve you.” He whispers with a frown. “You’re so good, and I’m so.. awful.” 
“If either of us are awful, it’s me.” 
“You’re not awful.” 
“I am. I didn’t even flinch when you killed that boy in the arena. I was.. happy that you defended me. And that’s only a bit of it.. I am rotten. You and Tigris are so much better than me.” Coryo sits up, causing you to also sit up, basically all the way on his lap.
“Not only did I kill someone, but I felt good while doing it. And I can’t tell myself I wouldn’t do it again. Especially if I’m defending you in the process.” He confesses. 
“I think I’d do the same for you.” You reply. 
You went home a few hours later, completely exhausted. You slept until twelve the next day, when Tigris barges into your room, yelling that Coryo is to be shipped off to District 12 in the morning. Your heart drops.
── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────
Part 2
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moondirti · 9 months
Note
DEE IK THIS IS SO OFF THE BAT BUT IMAGINE RIDING MIGUEL’S ABS??!;!;?:?:? WHATS UR CRUMB ON THAT BCS IM LITERALLY ASCENDING INTO HEAVEN JUST BY THE THOUGHT OF IT😩☝🏼
SUMMARY: after the events of DOUBLE RAPTURE, we follow Mig back home and explore his less than ideal relationship with his world's version of you.
explicit (18+) | 1.5k words
part one / can be read as a standalone! WARNINGS: smut, ab-riding, handjobs, codependant relationships, submissive (?) miguel, ANGST, fear of commitment (on the reader's part), implied parental issues, drinking, anxious/avoidant attachment styles NOTES: did this take me forever to respond to? yes. have i been thinking about it every day since i received it? also yes. please have a little drabble as a sweet treat for your genius mind, anon. sorry i took it too far
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This is how it is with Miguel.
Buttressed on a leather couch that isn't so much leather anymore, but cotton dotted with the flakes of black suede that've managed to hold on through the years since you bought it. It's old, unstable – somewhat an apt metaphor for your relationship to the man – and stands situated across a television with no cable. He shows up at your door on any unannounced night, where for once you wish he'd catch you with plans pre-made, and intrudes on your vain attempt to connect the old screen to your neighbour's internet.
And it's ironic that you should end up watching dated cartoons anyway, stuck inside your apartment that is a fraction the size of his, because he always opens on some variation of the same line – the very thing that woo'd you all those years ago, when you were younger and prone to any man's charm:
What's a pretty thing like you do in a place like this?
It's dark outside – night-worn inhibition being one of the main constituents to poor decision making – and his skin gleams golden in the dim lamp light. You can't refuse him for all your rationale on why, so he comes in and you pour a strong drink whose hangover tomorrow will take precedence over your guilt. He drinks too, perhaps to make your eventual rejection easier, and the two of you make-out on that tumbledown couch until your lips turn blue.
Sometimes, he comes up for air – only when he gathers enough courage to break away from you – to whisper filthy nothings and little promises on the shell of your ear. Neither are empty, you know. Miguel’s good at making good of every word when it comes to you. The push and pull gets to him, fuels his gears until he’s pouring proper work into making you happy. From what you can physically face – gonna have you creaming on my cock, cariño – to prospects that remain ever-frightening – wanna stay like this forever, you on my lap, sharing our home. 
You’ve never had a reference to ‘our’. Commitment remains a fickle thing for you, instilled by parents who didn’t have the mind to give it. He knows as much, but you don’t think he understands just what keeps you around regardless. What keeps you at the door, waiting for an acknowledged three-knuckle knock. None of the in betweens, flowers, nor the heights you reach spread-eagled underneath him. It’s always just been exactly that – his return, done every time without fail. 
(And there’s the ever-negging fear that one day he’ll grow sick of the cycle. 
On one hand, you hope he does. It hurts him more than it does you, and you hate to watch him leave. Yet on the other, more volatile hand – you pray he fucks you so well you forget your reserve, that he breeds and carries you away from this hole you’ve dug yourself in.) 
For now, though–
For now, you lift the shirt off his frame. He’s let his chest-hair grow since you met him last, and if you strain to remember, he’s gotten bulkier. Abs more pronounced, with pecs that bounce when you graze your nails down his side. It’s refined, a look that makes him appear older. You swoop down to lick his neck, moaning hotly once you reach his mouth. 
“You been working out, Mig?” 
“For you, hermosa. Figured you’d like me better like this.” He groans, kneading the flesh of your thighs. His fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, snapping it on your skin in an explicit plea to take it off. 
“And who told you that?” You say, acquiescing, working the lacey strip off your hips. Your cunt sucks at it, belligerent in letting go now that it’s soaked the fabric through. 
“A couple I met. They remind me of us.” His head follows yours when you draw away from an attempted kiss. It’s unintentional, done to stand off and strip completely, yet his reaction to it sends little tremors of pleasure to your core. “Of what we could be.” 
“Shhhh.” Once you’re completely bare, tits freed from your tank top, you straddle him again, a little higher this time. His waist is cinched enough to allow you to do so with little fuss, tendons at the top of your thighs aching only slightly. “Make me feel good, please.” 
“Of course.” 
His thumb presses down on your swollen clit, holding it in place while you arch your back and trap it underneath you – sandwiching it between your mound and his midriff. The pressure is electric, charged to fervency, buzzing as it lights every nerve ending from your waist below. And three thrusts forth and back see to it that he’s slick, lubed with the juices that gradually seep from your needy slit. 
The sight, the sensations, the thought that he’s putting effort outside of this room for you – they all make you exceedingly weak. Your legs wobble, practically jello, spine made out of sand and unable to support you fully. Miguel stays firm, one large paw squeezing your breast and the other at your pelvis. You’d ask him to help, to move you against him until you see stars, but a stone lodges in your throat and prevents the words from finding clarity. 
It’s guilt, of that you’re familiar, but for a number of things; the fact that he would help you seek pleasure in spite of his own – his erection left abandoned under the confines of his pants. The idea of desecrating his hard work, those muscles made pronounced, with your filth without fully appreciating it first. For everything, everything, and it’s so crushing that you stop moving altogether. 
“No, no. C’mon, pretty. Keep going.” He begs, pelvis thrusting up with need. You shove your arm behind you, seeking out the zipper keeping him from you, palming his hard length with clumsy assurance “Don’t worry about me. Wanna feel you cum on my abs. Gonna lick you clean after. We have forever if you’d let me. There’s no rush.” 
No rush. It’s far from the typical Miguel sentiment, and you blink in perplexed contemplation. But he just grins, brows knitting up with reverence. 
“Did these people also teach you to take your time?” You struggle to say patience, because he’s always been patient with you. 
“Something along the lines.” He mutters, suddenly sheepish. His fangs always intrude when his tone is quiet, like they’re intentionally making him difficult to understand. He knows he’s special to you when you try to decipher it nonetheless. 
“Don’t be making me jealous, now.” You taunt, dipping to bite his lip. It’s fun to pull up, up, until he whines and shoves you harder onto him. Achingly empty and close to cumming on his abdomen alone. Slowly, you start to gyrate again, riding unrelenting sinew. And in the meanwhile, you manage to get his zipper undone, sneaking your hand beneath his briefs.
“I’ll explain lat… later, p-promise.” 
“I don’t doubt it. F-Fuck,” Somehow, the pleasure is simultaneously heavenly and not enough, this little game you decided to engage in tiptoeing the line. He’s good even when he isn’t trying, just laying there, pinching pebbled nipples with enough callousness that it aches in the best way. On your first date – which wasn’t really a date, but a happenstance meeting at your father’s shady bar – he’d been hesitant to hurt you like you wanted. The best he could do was pepper your neck with sore hickeys, pocketed in the back alley, touch kinder than any you’d experienced before. “Oh my god.”
“Y-You’re so soft. My gorgeous girl. So soft and… and pretty when you do that.”
“Mig.” You wail, useless in properly pumping his pulsing cock. It’s all you can do to palm the head, smearing prespend all over his velvet tip. And it’s hard, like smelted iron, throbbing hot and heavy. It’s been so long since you’ve had it in you that you’re sure it’ll take some effort to fit. The abstraction fills you with desperation so poignant that you start moving faster, rougher, seeking an end where you’re stuffed full yet doing nothing to actually achieve it. 
That is, until–
“What do you need?” He asks.
Your hole clenches. Your guts knot together. Your orgasm gathers, full and sloshing wet, trapped behind the wall he’s been breaking down since his arrival. 
“You!” You finally admit. “You.” Softer. 
And when you cum, soaking his middle with shameless indulgence, all he does is flip you over to settle beneath him. The couch rocks with the sudden upheaval, threatening collapse, so he keeps a firm hold of your shoulders, kneeling between your quivering thighs. His breadth bobs from over his pants – you don’t recall taking it out – purple with restrained pain and just waiting for your cue to allow him entry.
“I’ve got you, cariño.” Miguel hums, positioning himself onto the divet of your cunt when you give a frail nod. “I’ve got you.” 
And you know, of course you do. He’s never backed away from a promise before. Because that is how it is with Miguel.
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bunwritesss · 3 months
Text
A/N: Finally some (slow) action with Neighbour!Hotch <333 Thank you so much for being so enthusiastic with my blurbs, it really means a lot ♡
"I think your Dad wouldn't be happy if he came home now and you weren't asleep, Jack."
You had been arguing with the child for so long now, because the day filled with fun activities you had planned for him apparently did not tire him out.
Jack looked at you with pouty lips and teary eyes.
"Not sleepy!"
"Maybe we could both go to your room, and I could tuck you into bed and read you a fun story? Your Dad wants you to go to bed early tonight, you have school tomorrow!"
"Daddy told me t'was okay to play late!" The child argued.
"I certainly did not."
You both jumped at the sudden arrival of Hotch, a tiny smile making its apparition on your lips. Aaron crossed is arms, his shirt and tie all messed up by the long flight, and you had to mentally fight yourself to keep your eyes on his face.
"Jack, it's 9pm. Let's tuck you into bed, Buddy."
He took Jack's hand and led him upstairs, leaving you all alone in the living room. You were accustomed to this routine, and simply sat into the couch, waiting for Aaron to come back as you would both talk about your days. Sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for hours, depending on the day he had and on the schedule you would have the following day. So you took your phone out, quickly responding to some messages, your best friend harassing you to get some news about the "sexy neighbour situation", and urging you to make a move.
It took some time for Aaron to go downstairs, as Jack was still filled with energy, but he ended up coming back to you, two glasses in his hand. You could immediatly smell your favorite drink in the glass, and a big smile graced your face.
"How was work this morning?"
Aaron was the one asking. You usually did not ask, but let him tell you what he wanted to share. There was no need to remind him of the horrors he had seen throughout the day.
"Boring. There was some drama with someone I already told you about though... You're gonna be shocked!"
Aaron watched with a smile as you animatedly told the story, almost dropping your glass many times out of excitation. He ended up softly taking the glass from your hands, placing it on the table near you to prevent the arriving accident. And when you finished your story, his eyes were wide.
"And she did that?"
You nodded enthusiastically, taking your glass back to have a sip.
"Yes! I told you, she really makes no sense! I wish you could visit her and profile her, because I really do not know how to deal with her."
Aaron laughed wholeheartedly at your remark.
"It would be a nice break from the people I usually profile!"
You laughed as well, and remembered your best friend's words as he placed a friendly hand on your knee.
"Anyway, how was Jack?"
"Kind and fun, as always. Fell in the park this morning, but he took it like a champ!"
"He told me you bought him Pokemon bandaids just to comfort him."
You nodded, responding wisely.
"There's no injury that cannot be patched up by some cartoon bandaids."
"Well, Jack is definitely on your side on this one!"
You both fell into a comfortable silence, sipping out of your glasses, and trying to discreetely look at the other (and pathetically failing).
"Thank you so much for babysitting Jack so often." Aaron broke the silence, and you smiled at him.
"It's no problem, really! Jack is such a sweet child."
"And he loves you as well. Told me he wouldn't be mad if you became his new parent."
Your eyes widened and Aaron snickered. Maybe you were helped by your best friend's words, maybe you were just feeling brave, but you said without thinking:
"Maybe take me to dinner first, and I'll think about it!"
He stopped laughing for a few seconds, apparently not expecting you to react like that (take that, mister profiler!). And he shrugged, always a confident man.
"I would love to, to be honest. How about tomorrow night, if you are free?"
It had taken him one look at your face and nervous hands, to guess you were only half joking. And he had immediatly jumped into the rare occasion.
"My coworker recommanded me this charming italian restaurant, that I promised him to try anyway."
You nodded, a sudden need to pinch yourself to check if you were dreaming.
"It would be a pleasure!"
He smiled at your words, and you cleared your throat to gain some contenance back.
"8pm, tomorrow?"
"That's perfect!"
He smiled, and you slowly rose up from the couch. Now that you had earned yourself an obligatory two hours phone call with your best friend, you had to leave early.
"Maybe I'm going to get back to my house, you had a long day, and I am getting tired."
This wasn't a lie, Jack really was a dynamic child.
"But thank you so much for the invitation! I really cannot wait."
He walked to his door with you, and placed a hand on the side of your face as he kissed the other cheek.
"Good night, Y/N."
You smiled back, looking at him directly in the eyes.
"Good night, Aaron."
He watched as you walked back to your house, only closing his door when he was sure you were home.
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jflemings · 3 months
Text
— birthday wishes
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pairing: jessie fleming x reader
synopsis: you make sure jessie has a good day for her first birthday in portland
warnings: a lil suggestive & not edited
a/n: a lil smth smth for the birthday girl (i don’t rlly like this ending but fuck it we ball)
contrary to popular belief, jessie actually really liked celebrating her birthday. she liked that her mum always baked her a cake when she was growing up, she liked that you made the effort to always give her flowers and she liked it when her and her sister designated a time to facetime. the thing that she liked most of all though, was being able to have all her favourite people in one place,
this year was different though. jessie’s mood had seemed to get deplete the closer her birthday got. she had been adjusting to the move well enough but she didn’t exactly have the time to get really settled before she was off win team canada for the gold cup, the semi final loss leaving her more restless then when she left.
still, you made the effort to at least attempt to make this birthday feel somewhat normal. you bought her a bouquet of pink tulips and baby’s breath from a florist you spotted one afternoon on your way home from work, a lego flower bouquet set that the two of you wanted to build together and a proper, high quality photo album so that all of her favourite photos she’s taken can be in one place.
you sneak back into your shared bedroom with her flowers in one hand and coffee in the other, placing them down on a flipped cardboard box that your girlfriend had been using as a makeshift bedside table, before pouncing on her. you practically jump onto her back and lay yourself down flat on top of her, placing your head on her shoulder as she awoke.
jessie, in all her sleepy-faced-bedheaded glory, flashes you a smile as you trace patterns on her back through her sleep shirt.
“good morning birthday girl” you whisper quietly to her “how does twenty six feel?”
“not any different than twenty five” she rasps out whilst beginning to roll over onto her back. you slide off her effortlessly before she pulls you into her, one arm wrapping around your shoulders whilst the other hoists you onto her chest. she wraps both arms around you protectively and tightly, leaning her head on your own as she lets out a content sigh.
you reach over her as best you can and grab the bouquet “your birthday flowers madam”
jessie gives you one of her famous soft smiles “thank you, they’re beautiful” she praises gratefully, sniffing them before taking them from you and placing them on the ground, grabbing your torso so she can guide you up the front of her body, kissing you sweetly and slowly.
you pull away from her and lift your arms so that they’re on either side of her head “only the best for my girl” you say before taking advantage of the position your arms are in and pulling yourself up so you’re straddling jessie’s hips.
“as much as i would love to lay around with you all morning, you” you emphasise by poking a finger into the canadian’s chest “have training and then lunch with the girls, and i have work that needs to be done.”
jessie rolls her eyes and trails her hands up your sides “just five more minutes” she exhales “i don’t feel like getting up yet”
you swing your leg over jessie and roll onto your side of the mattress, sitting and then standing in one swift motion. you then walk to the end of the bed frame-less mattress and grip the bottom of the duvet that jessie is comfortably under “if i let you lay here for five more minutes then i’m going to feel the need to lay down with you, which will then turn into morning sex, which means that when janine comes to get you in about an hour not only will she be interrupting us but she’ll also be late because you won’t be ready” you explain pointedly, finally ripping the blanket off your girlfriend.
jessie shivers slightly at the sudden loss of warmth before sitting herself up on her elbows and forearms “i’ll be quick, promise” she smirks amused, raising her eyebrows in an almost challenging way.
you’re almost half convinced, her position on the bed paired with the confident smirk she doesn’t wear often slowly drawing you in. you tilt your head in faux thought, slowly leaning down and propping your knee up near her feet, planting your hands flat on either side of her legs. you hover for a moment and open your mouth to say something before a blaring alarm sounds off through the room.
jessie rolls her eyes and picks her phone up, quickly turning the alarm off and tossing it to the side. by the time she’s done that you’re up and halfway out the door.
“y/n” she draws out frustratedly “five minutes!”
“your coffee is going cold jess”
——
jess huffs as janine pulls up to the curb in front of the home she shares with you. lunch had gone longer than expected and although she appreciated the fact that the team celebrated her birthday with her, she had begun to miss her ex teammates even more.
“you tired jeffery?” janine muses “wouldn’t wanna be, y/n’s probably gonna keep you up all hours of the night”
“ooookay!” jessie hastily says as she reaches for the door handle “thanks for organising lunch, i had a really good time”
janine nods and smiles before reaching behind her seat and handing jessie a cobalt blue gift bag “this is from me and sinc” she says just as jessie opens her mouth to protest “and don’t say that we didn’t have to because we know! we just wanted to give you a little something”
jessie takes the bag off her teammate carefully, opening the door at the same time and awkwardly sliding out. she gathers her training bag, phone and gift bag before shooting janine a wide, genuine smile and shutting the car door. as the midfielder walks to her front door she notices the warm light peaking through the windows.
it’s not dark outside but the sun has started to set, so she finds it odd that you’ve already turned on the lamp in the front room. she thinks nothing of it as she opens the door and steps in sideways before kicking it shut, slightly cringing at the loud slam. when you don’t scold her for slamming the front door, like you had always done, she becomes puzzled.
magenta light that she hadn’t seen from outside bounces off the walls and the smell of sandalwood slowly invaded her senses as she begins to creep into the main living area. you’re still no where to be found and she’s about to call out for you when she stops herself, her jaw going slack and eyes going wide.
next to the window on the furthest wall hangs her canada and chelsea jerseys that she received for reaching one hundred games, underneath multiple framed photos and trinkets sit on top of the buffet, a birthday banner and balloon numbers two and six find themselves near by. the magenta light is coming from a lamp that you had at your place back in london and next to it sits jessie’s burning sandalwood candle, other bits of decor like potted plants, a ceramic mug with miscellaneous pens and pencils, unread books and small collectables have all found homes in her home. her home that wasn’t like this when she reluctantly got up this morning.
she hears the bathroom door open and watches you round the corner, a towel messily drying your hair as you hum to yourself. you haven’t seen her so she places her things down next to the kitchen table, slightly startling you.
you just about jump out of your skin when you hear the unknown noise, dropping the towel and placing a hand over your racing heart “jessie fleming! you scared the absolute shit out of me” you exclaim half out of breath “you could’ve announced yourself when you walked in”
you pull a ladybug patterned gift bag out from under the dining table as you walk past and place it in front of her, nodding in the direction of the bag “open it” you say giddily, practically bouncing on your toes as you watch her reach into the bag.
she pulls out a plain white faux leather photo album that’s bound by brown leather strings and the lego flower bouquet set that the two of you had said you’d wanted to build together once you got settled. she opens the photo album to reveal a photo that was taken of her, niamh and zećira on her birthday last year.
the three of them were dressed nicely and standing in your old kitchen before everyone went out for dinner. you had taken the picture on a cheap disposable you’d had for ages so the film was a bit discoloured and jess and niamh were both laughing at zećira’s expense after she’d almost tripped over her own two feet, but it was one of you favourite photos of the three of them.
jessie looks to you with tears in her eyes, and she watches your mouth quickly turns into a frown. you reach for her without a second thought, already thinking the worst “are you okay? did something happen?” you ask concerned, pulling her into you and wrapping your arms securely around her body.
“no i’m good” she mumbled weakly, sniffling slightly “you did all this today?”
you nod “did the bathroom as well, thought it might de stress you a little bit” you explain softly “why are you crying jess?”
jessie shakes her head and detaches herself from you “i’m just so tired” the canadian mumbles “and i just love you so much.”
you run your hands up and down her biceps “too tired for cake?” you ask cheekily before moving to the fridge. jessie watches you pull out a white frosted cake with small red hearts littering the surface, placing it down and allowing her to see 26th piped on with black icing. you reach into a drawer and pull out a brand new pack of colourful birthday candles, quickly sticking the red one in and lighting it.
“make a wish birthday girl” you say whilst pushing the cake almost directly under jessie’s nose.
she quirks a brow “what? no birthday song?”
you shrug “i figured janine would’ve had the whole team singing it at lunch, thought you’d be content with hearing it once”
the footballer nods in agreement and closes her eyes, blowing the candle out in one go and waving her hand to disperse the smoke. you tilt your head curiously, leaning your forearms on the dark wood of the dining table “you didn’t even make a wish!” you exclaim.
jessie rolls her eyes and sits down, patting her lap so that you can sit on her “i did make a wish, thank you very much.” she defends as you oblige happily and throw your arms around her neck. once situated you swipe your pointer finger through the frosting and holding it up to her mouth. she licks the icing off your finger and snakes her hand up your back to hold your neck, pulling you down to her level so she can kiss you.
the kiss is sweet but hard as she holds you delicately whilst swiping her tongue on your bottom lip. you smile and open your mouth, adjusting yourself on her lap so that your body is facing more towards her.
it feels like the two of you sit there making out for almost an eternity before jess pulls away to come up for air, her lips pink and slightly swollen “wanna know what i wished for?”
your lips ghost over hers “if you tell me then it won’t come true”
the hand that was holding your neck slides down to cradle the small of your back whilst jessie’s other hand runs over your thighs aimlessly. she shrugs and the same smug smirk that she wore this morning returns to her face “i’ll just show you then”
in the blink of an eye she’s hoisting you up and standing quickly before racing off in the direction of your bedroom. you giggle loudly at jessie’s sudden burst of energy and quickly become grateful that the two of you don’t have a bed frame when she pins you to the mattress.
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