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springseasonie · 1 year

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Hate me more | LMH (M)

Enemies to lovers, Camp counselors Mark x Fem reader

Summary: You really dislike Mark and you're pretty sure he dislikes you too. Ever since he came to the camp last year, he's been nothing short of a headache to you. And now you're forced to work with him this summer, and his mission is clearly to piss you off.

Warnings: sexual content, heavy dubcon/cnc themes, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), kissing (shocker), Mark is annoying, so is the reader tbh, may be errors even though proof read

Word count: 7,7k

Song recs: kiss by NCT dojaejung (this is my way of promoting the unit go stream)

A/N: I was gonna write something for the release of golden hour but this took a bit longer than expected 😭 10 days later an I finally finished it lmao please give feedback if you want it's always appreciated

"Okay kiddos make sure you have all your things before we go back to the cabins okay?"

"Yes Ms. Y/N!"

You gave them a thumbs up as you leaned on a tree, waiting for all the kids to pack up. This was your life every summer for the past 4 years. Being a camp counselor was a lot of work the first time, but by the end of the summer, you had to come back. You loved your kids and they loved you. The staff was always so welcoming and nice. That was true until Mark started the third summer.

He was such an asshole. All the other female counselors gushed over him and his looks. He was constantly flirting with everyone, using his looks and charisma to get himself out of shit. It annoyed you, and Mark instantly took notice. He would side eye you all the time and talk about you as if you weren't friends with everyone else. He didn't really care though, he enjoyed being confronted by you every time he got "caught." Mark found your anger funny, never really taking you seriously.

And now you're paired to work with him this summer.

"Ms. Y/N, where is Mr. Mark? I need help getting something out a tree," one of the kids asked.

"That's a good question honey." You glanced around the area, looking over both shoulders to try and get a sign of him. And of course, he's nowhere to be found. "I don't see him around. We're just gonna have to wait for him okay?"

The little girl nods and runs back to her friends. Ten minutes go by and you start to get annoyed. This happened way more often than you would like to think. Mark disappears to do something or someone for way too long and you're left to take care of the kids by yourself. Sometimes, you almost think it's unbelievable how unreliable he is, sneaking away leaving you alone with 20 children in a forest. But then again, it's on brand for him.

5 more minutes went by and you start to get frustrated. You have no idea what he could be doing that's going to cause all of you to be late for dinner time. "Okay everyone please listen to me okay?" All the kids stop talking and turn to you. "I'm gonna go look for Mr. Mark, but I need all of you to sit in 5 rows of 4. Now." All the kids practically run to sit next to their friends and plop down on the floor.

"Good. None of you move or get up. If anything happens, scream at the top of your lungs okay? I'll be right back." All of the kids agreed as you turned to walk into the forest, going the way you last saw him.

"So fucking irresponsible," you muttered to yourself. "How the hell am I supposed to watch 20 kids by myself?"

You could still hear the kids, so you know you weren't too far away from the area or the trail. This wasn't new for you, always looking for him. It's only been a month since the both of you had to start working together, and he was already making shit hard for you. Mark liked to go hide somewhere. it was either to get away from you, the kids, or to get blown off by some staff member. You couldn't stand it.

"I mean seriously, can't he control himself for one fucking summer," you grumble. "Fucks everything that walks. What an ass."

"Well I wouldn't say that."

Your body jumped violently suddenly hearing his voice next to you. You whipped your head in his direction seeing him sitting, leaning in a tree. Mark had his ear buds in and from where you were standing, you could still hear the music playing.

"Where the hell were you," you asked angrily.

Mark stood up and dusted his pants off as he walked to you. You crossed your eyes, eyeing him up and down. He was so smug about everything. He always looked like something was amusing to him, like there was always a joke to tell.

"Here," he said.

"Clearly. And how the hell do you even have a working phone out here. There is literally no service."

Mark shrugged, wrapping the ear buds around his phone and putting it in his back pocket. "I downloaded stuff before I came."

"Whatever, let's go," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Where are the kids," he asked you, placing his hands in his pockets as he walked.

"In the same place I left them. I had to come get you like you were a lost child. Stop leaving me with all these kids."

Mark smiled in amusement as he walked behind you. You didn't really notice, but you tend to stomp when you are angry. And fortunately for Mark, it wasn't annoying. He actually found it cute, but he wouldn't tell you that.

"Can we take a break? My legs hurt," he whined teasingly.

"Mark, stop playing games. We have 20 kids in the forest waiting for us to come back and the sun will start setting soon," you replied, sighing heavily.

"Oh please we'll be okay."

And at this moment, you've just about had it with him. You turned around, lips pursed at his nonchalant response. Mark stopped in his tracks, looking up at you as you stood on the top of the small hill. "You have one more time to piss me off or I will report you. I'm not joking."

Mark's amused expression washed away as you turned around and kept walking. For the rest of the walk back, he said nothing. Soon enough, the both of you got back to the kids who were still sitting and chatting.

You sighed, groaning quietly. "I'm gonna do another headcount. You get that thing out of the tree."

"Why couldn't you just do it," he complained.

"Because- you know what, just get it out the tree."

You counted all of the kids, double and triple checking everyone and the area around you. Soon enough, Mark got the toy that was stuck in the tree out, and everyone was ready to leave. "Okay everyone you know the drill. Get your buddy and get in line. Mark, you'll watch the back."

"Didn't sound like a question," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I wasn't asking."

"I swear to you I will kill him if I'm ever alone with him again."

"He's really not that bad," Somi said, taking another bite of her pancake.

"Please, bad is an understatement," you say as you sit down. "He fucking left me with 20 kids, and then when we got back and I told him how dangerous that was, he says 'but you handled it, right?'"

Somi laughs, clearly amused at your story. You give her a confused look, not understanding why she wasn't siding with you. "Y/N, anything he says makes you angry."

"That's not the point!" Somi stops laughing when she sees how upset you are. "He left me and 20 kids in the forest near sunset to sit on his ass and listen to music. Then got an attitude with me because I was telling him what do when he wanted to act like a fucking child. I'm tired of it, Somi. I've been dealing with this for a month."

"Shit, I didn't think it was that serious," she said, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.

"We literally could've had a bear encounter or something. I don't want to keep taking responsibility for his shit," you say, sighing heavily. "Anyways, I'm done complaining. Let's just eat."

You went to bed last night still completely angry at what happened in the forest. Mark didn't say anything to you walking back, but your conversation once you got back to the main camp was nothing short of unpleasant. It consisted of all your usual unpleasantries with him. Mark didn't really seem to care much though. You hated that you always let him get a rise out of you once you said you weren't going to do it anymore. And at this point, you had to get to the bottom of it.

You looked around the dining hall trying to find Mark. You knew he was there, he always came late after roughhousing with the kids in his cabin. Searching around some more, you spot him in line getting food. "I see him."

"Please don't harass the man," Somi begged you.

"Too late." You got up and walked to him. You really needed all this bad energy between the both of you to disappear. You weren't too sure about him, but it made every day difficult and you couldn't deal with it all summer. "Hey buddy," you said, tapping his shoulder.

"Didn't know we were friends."

The fake smile immediately turned into a frown. "Our conversation from last night isn't finished."

Mark groaned quietly as you followed his pace in the line. "Why do you keep bothering me if you don't like me?"

"I'm not bothering you, I'm trying to figure out what your deal is," you whisper yell. You followed Mark to his usual seat with the other male counselors, taking a seat right next to him. You were too focused on him to notice the confused stares you got from everyone else.

"Um, hey Y/N," Haechan greeted you awkwardly. "Is this…your new spot?"

"I came to talk to your friend if you don't mind."

"She's crazy," Mark blurted out, making the table laugh.

You smacked him on the arm, making him turn to you with the brightest smile you've seen all summer. And for some reason this was the first time you looked at him without feeling pure irritation. He was actually pretty…cute?

You couldn't look directly in the eyes, fearing that the anger you felt all morning would go away. Instead of speaking, you got up and went back to the table with Somi.

"So..what happened," she questioned.

"Nothing."

"You don't seem too upset by it," Somi observed.

"What..what are you talking about," you said, trying to deflect.

"You can't fool me, you're terrible at lying," she laughed. Somi took another bit of her pancake, but stopped laughing, giving you a look as if she found out something. "Do you like him?"

"Keep your voice down! And don't eat with your mouth full, you look like a damn kid."

"Y/N, do you like him?"

"Of course not! I can't stand the man," you deny.

Somi squints her eyes and side eyes you, but says nothing. You know she doesn't believe you, but it doesn't really matter because either way, you don't like him. "Okay..just know that today is your day to clean the kitchen."

"I know," you said with a sigh.

"And his also," she reminded you.

"Goodness kill me now."

You and Mark cleaned the dishes in the kitchen silently, not daring to say a word. There was an unspoken rule between the 2 of you at the moment, first person to speak surrenders to the other for the entire summer. You'll never surrender to him, no matter what it takes (that's what you want to believe anyway.) Mark had been stealing glances for about 30 minutes now, watching you clean meticulously and quietly. He always thought you were pretty, except for when you were being annoying that is. He always thought of himself as the bigger person, despite his childish nature, so he thought he should end this silent game sooner than expected.

"Did you get sleep," he asked.

"Why do you care?"

"I can't be concerned about my friend," he said. Mark chuckled softly when you sucked your teeth.

"Why do you insist on pissing me off," you say, turning to him. "Like I really don't understand why you don't like me. Since you came here last year, I've been nothing short of annoyed with you."

"It's never been my intention, but I just happen to strike those emotions in some women."

"What the fuck does that mean?" You put down the dirty dishes, crossing your arms as you looked at him with a brow raised.

"It means," he replied, turning to you, "that the more women are attracted to me, the less they like me."

You scoffed, getting back to cleaning the dishes. "You wish. You're out of your fucking mind."

"If I'm crazy, then what exactly was that earlier," he asked. You didn't know, but Mark definitely noticed how you backed off of him during breakfast. The way your expression changed, how quick you got up. It almost seemed like you were running from something, and he knew exactly what it was. "I know you like me."

"I don't like you. I just didn't want to talk to you in front of all your friends. They were laughing at me, so I left," you explained. Mark took two steps to you, his body ending up close to yours. You backed up a bit, not understanding why he was close to you, but he followed you again. "What are you doing?"

"Testing something out," he said simply.

"Look I don't know what you're testing but I'm busy. " Just as you moved away from him, he placed his arms beside you, trapping you under him. The both of you have never been this close before. Sure there were times where he had to catch you or hold you for activities in the forest, but there was nothing like this. This was close. This was personal.

"What are you doing," you asked, shock written all over your face.

"Standing here." Mark's lips curled into a smirk as his eyelids dropped once glancing at your lips. "You're pretty."

"Thank you but I really need to-"

"You know," he started,"you never told me what you wanted to talk about before you left the table."

You sighed, making a dramatic pained expression. "Mark, please. Can you back up?"

"No."

You looked up at him, surprised that his face was closer than before. One more move and your lips would've probably touched his. 'Why am I even thinking about that right now,' you thought to yourself.

"I know you wanna kiss me," he said almost in a whisper. Mark chuckled softly seeing the frazzled look on your face. You were so easy to read, always saying you didn't like him knowing damn well you wanted him. He just wanted to make you say it. He wanted to break your prideful attitude down and make you beg for him.

"You are saying insane things right now." You couldn't even look him in the eye, too afraid you would melt under his body. He was too close. You couldn't control your heart beat or your whirling mind. 'Maybe kissing him wouldn't be so bad,' you thought to yourself, but pushed the thought to the back of your head.

"But you didn't say I was wrong," he said, leaning into your neck.

"Mark, seriously." The slight whine in your voice made you want to run and hide from everyone. You felt like you were going to collapse into his hands the closer he got. His voice was so soft, but his presence was still so dominating. It was almost too much for you to bear.

"What would you do if I kissed you right now," he whispered in your ear, a smile on his face. "Would you push me away, take it and get mad, or maybe give me another one?"

You could barely look at him, let alone speak. You had no idea how to respond to him. You didn't even know if you were supposed to. But what you did know is that if he made one more move or said anything else, you would most likely lose your mind. "Mark, it's too early in the morning for this," you said practically begging him to stop.

Mark released his hand from the counter, placing it on your waist. His grip was firm as he pressed you against the counter more, body so close his leg was between yours. "You're not even trying to run at this point. You little liar."

"Mark..what if someone comes in here?"

"Let them. Why do you care? Are you scared," he teased. Mark kissed the spot behind your ear softly, making you gasp. Your body tensed up in his hand, causing him to rub small circles in your waist in an attempt to comfort you. He kept missing down your neck, moving back up to kiss your jawline.

You stood there, still as a tree. Your eyes fluttered shut, taking in the feeling of his lips on your skin. At this rate there was no point in fighting it. He had already won like he did with everyone else. You felt Mark's hand leave your waist, grabbing your chin as he ran his finger down your bottom lip.

"If you want me to stop I will."

You shook your head unconsciously, brows slightly frowning at his words. You were desperate and he definitely knew from the way you were frozen and speechless.

"Good girl." Mark kissed you softly, but deeply. His hand slowly made its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You dare to touch him, feeling like it was way too intimate. But before you could even pull away, he kissed you again, this time with even more sincerity. You didn't know why you had such a heavy feeling in your chest, but it did scare you a little bit.

"We have to finish all of this stuff in 15 minutes. You think we can make it," he asked on your lips.

"If you stop fast enough, maybe.."

Mark chuckled softly at your response, pulling away from you. He was clearly extremely turned on, but you were not the kind to help him with his problem, and he knew that. But that didn't stop his mind from drifting, thinking about how hot it would be if you dropped to your knees at this very moment.

"Wasn't that fun Y/N?"

"What are you talking about," you said, covering your face in embarrassment.

"Unwinding instead of having a stick up your ass," he jabbed.

You dropped your hands, scoffing at him. You shoved your way out of his arms, walking to the sink he was at previously. "Gosh, you're so annoying," you mumbled as you scrubbed the dirty plates.

"Yeah but you like it though."

"You wish."

"Proved my point."

You and Mark haven't spoken since the kitchen fiasco. You said a couple of words to each other when it came to the kids, but nothing more than that. You couldn't even look at him, the shame filling your body once he came into your vision. But one thing was for sure- you definitely didn't hate him as much. You were still very confused. You didn't understand where all those feelings came from for Mark in the kitchen. Maybe your subconscious? It didn't really matter, you just wanted to make sense of everything.

"Okay everyone, tonight is movie night so we need to leave a little early okay," you announced.

Mark leaned on a tree silently watching you as you interacted with the kids. You didn't know that he had conflicting feelings as well. All the teasing and messing around turning into sexual tension was not what he hoped for. He just wanted to mess with you. He wasn't actually going to kiss you for real, but when he saw the desperate scrunch of your eyebrows, how could he resist himself? If it weren't for the kids, he would definitely have his way with you right on the ground, but nothing in his life ever works right.

Mark admired the way you were with them, always so nice and careful. You were careful with anything really, never wanting to come off as irresponsible or rude. But he never cared about any of that. He didn't care if people thought he was a prick or an ass, which is why you were so intriguing to him. He never got a chance to actually introduce himself to you before you can dislike him as easily as you did.

After 20 minutes of walking back to the main site, the sun had finally set and all the kids and counselors went back to their respective cabins before going to the lake for movie night.

"So you're telling me," Somi started,"after all these months of not liking him, he came onto you in the kitchen and you didn't refuse?"

"I know, I know it's humiliating," you grumbled putting on your shirt.

"Enemies to lovers. My favorite trope."

You let out a loud embarrassed groan listen to her words. "We only kissed twice. We didn't say anything to each other for the rest of the day," you added.

"Not even for your group," she questioned.

"Well of course we did, but very little. He was..so distant," you said. You slipped into your jean shorts and put your shoes back on quickly. "I'm gonna go make sure all the girls are ready." You got up and walked outside to see everyone playing around. Just as you were about to round up your cabin, you see Mark who's talking to some of his kids. You wanted to stop staring at him, but you couldn't. You gulped as he glanced at you, giving you a small wave. "I hate him," you muttered to yourself almost as if you were trying to convince yourself it was true.

You shake your head, attempting to push what happened out of the forefront of your mind, but it's hard to do that when he's walking up to you. You turn away from his direction, hastily gathering the girls from your cabin. Just as you were about to make your way to the lake, you were tapped on the shoulder. Turning around agonizingly slowly, you face him with a fake smile.

"Hi," you said awkwardly.

"Hey, so listen-"

"I can't talk right now, we're about to head to the lake," you interrupted.

"I know but-"

"Can't talk."

Mark sighed, looking down at his shoes. He knew you were difficult, but not like this. "Can we talk after the movie?"

"Talk..about what? There's nothing to talk about," you say dismissively.

Mark rolled his eyes, walking away from you. You looked behind yourself, watching him walk back with his hands in his pockets. All that you could hope for was him forgetting whatever conversation he wanted to have with you.

Your cabin was the first to get to the lake while Mark's was the last like always. The movie started at 7, so thankfully for you, you could be left alone for 2 hours. You leaned against a tree as you watched the movie projected on the sheet quietly.

Unlike you, Mark was watching you silently, eyes never leaving your body as you stared at the screen. He knew you wanted nothing to do with him even after he kissed you, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. He's never been in a situation like this before. Having to chase after you was starting to dampen his pride, but he liked it.

He watched as you whispered to Somi about something, not able to read your lips. Maybe he shouldn't have thought to follow you as you walked away from everyone, but getting to be alone with you came rare, so he had to take his chances.

"Hey, I'm gonna go back to the cabin. I forgot something," he whispered to Haechan.

"Okay, be quick though. I don't wanna be responsible for you," he replied.

Mark gave him a dry laugh and walked away, following you from behind. Mark picked up that you were going to your cabin after a few turns on the trail. The sun was starting to set, so he began to rationalize he weird actions to himself. "It's not weird that I'm following her," he muttered to himself quietly. "I'm just keeping her safe." It was surprising how you didn't notice anyone was following you. You were usually always attentive, but it seems that you were only that way with other people.

Soon enough, the both of you made it to your cabin. You went inside with a big sigh, letting the door slam behind you. Mark would be a kind person and knock on the doors but he wasn't all that kind, so scaring you is the option he went with. Mark quickly went up to the door, opening it quietly. Your back was turned as you rummaged through a bag for something, causing you to not hear his footsteps or the door creaking open.

"Boo!"

"Fuck," yelled, body jumping violently as you turned around. "Mark?"

"Surprise."

You scoffed rolling your eyes at his jazz hands motion. "You're not funny. Now get out, this is a girls cabin."

"I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted to talk." He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as you went back to looking for whatever you were looking for.

"I really don't care, just leave," you said sternly.

Mark had enough of beating around the bush with you, the constant teasing, and asking dumb questions. He had to know why there was bad blood between you, especially after you let him kiss you that morning. "Why don't you like me?"

"You're kidding." You let out a dry laugh as you turned to face him. "I don't like you? I'm pretty sure it's the other way around."

"I'm just curious because since last year, you never gave me a chance, so I really want to know," he said, lifting his brows with a small smile.

"I want you to tell me why you don't like me first, then maybe I'll consider explaining myself to you."

Mark took small steps towards you, not being able to control the smirk on his face when you furrow your brows in confusion. "You're uptight and rude to me. And you never give me your attention unless it's to be rude with me, and I hate that that's the only way I get to talk to you. You only want to speak to me if it's to tell me how bad of a job I'm doing or how frustrating it is to be around me or work with me."

"That's not true, I-"

"I'm not done." You closed your mouth, intimidated by how commanding his voice was. "Then you go around and say to everyone how much you hate me. I know you complain to Somi and all the other counselors, and that's fine. But next time I would like to hear it from you directly."

"That I hate you?" You gave him a weird look, making him chuckle softly.

"Yes. Tell me that you hate me." He was walking closer to you slowly, arms now at his sides as he looked down at you with hungry eyes. Your arms were still crossed as you stood there, not allowing yourself to show how intimidating he was to you. Your face was calm, but your heart was beating faster with every step he took.

"I'm not telling you I hate you. Can I talk now," you asked.

"Go for it."

"You're fucking annoying and not helpful. You came into this camp last year and made all these friends and everyone liked you instantly. Everyone says you're funny and such a great guy but I have yet to see it. All you've done since you've been here was piss me off."

"You wanna know why," he said. He leaned down to your ear, a smile tugging at his lips. "Because you're pretty when you're angry."

"That's not funny," you said, looking away from him.

"I wasn't joking." Mark moved away from you, eyes going straight to your lips.

"Seriously mark, I don't care that you like to get me riled up, but yesterday was uncalled for. Do you have any idea…will you stop staring at me like that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Mark could barely concentrate on what you were saying. Your expression, the way you spoke, how close the 2 of you were. All he wanted was to just kiss you and shut you up for the night. Mark could barely keep his hands off you, every bit of self restraint coursing through his veins.

You sighed trying to back up from him, but all you did was bump the edge of your bed making you fall back. You plopped on the thin mattress placing your hand behind you to stay balanced on the bed. Mark's gaze turned dangerous, staring at you as if you were prey.

"God you're so hot," he mumbled.

"Mark," you said, his name coming out a bit breathlessly.

Before you could finish your sentence, he pinned your body to the bed. You were dead silent as you watched his eyes move rapidly along your face and body. "Mark..we can't. We have to be back soon."

"Stop fighting it. Just say you want me," he mumbled quietly. He leaned into your neck, breath tickling your skin as you closed your eyes.

You shook your head, brows furrowing as you tried to push the feeling to the back of your head. But the only thing you can think about is how his hands are leaving your wrists as he moves them down your body. Your breath hitched when his fingertips brushed against the slightly exposed skin of your stomach. You didn't stop him as he lifted your shirt, hands attaching to waist firmly.

The both of you stayed silent, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of breathing and your old bed creaking at every movement he made. You watched him as he moved his hands lower, fingers resting on the button of your jean shorts. Mark looked at you for any signs of you wanting to stop, but all he saw was the desperation on your face.

You gulped watching him unbutton and unzip your shorts, lifting your hips as he tugged them off you. Mark took his shirt off, laying it next to your shorts. He hooked his fingers on your underwear, pulling them off you quickly. You let out a small yelp when he tugs you towards him, throwing your leg over his shoulder as he moves between your legs.

'Just get on with it,' was all you could think. You were way too eager to get him between your legs, and at this point, nothing was going to stop it. "Hurry up," you said, breaking the long silence.

Mark didn't say anything or look at you, all he did was smile as his face disappeared between your legs. A small gasp of please leaves your lips as he kitten licks your core. You close your eyes, letting your head fall back onto the mattress taking in every movement. He ran his hand up and down your leg, nails lightly scratching your skin making you shiver. Needing more friction, you begin to grind yourself on his tongue slowly, but he stops you with a hold on your hips.

"We're gonna do this nice and slow okay," he said.

"We can't, we have to get back soon."

"They'll be okay. There's more than enough people out there." Before you could say anything his mouth was back on your core, tongue pressing against your sensitive bud hard. Without thinking your hands made their way to his hair, fingers running through the blonde locks. Mark kept licking at you agonizingly slow, chuckling when you whined for more. He would speed up at moments, flicking his tongue against your clit faster just to tease you, then stop.

"Please," you begged breathlessly, "it feels like I'm being punished."

"I know," he mumbled.

You smacked him on the side of his head softly, making the male look up at you with a brow raised. "I fucking hate you."

Mark chuckled, removing one of his hands from your hip. He didn't take his eyes off of you as he slid two fingers into you, pumping them slowly. Mark watched as you basically fell apart in his hands, moans never stopped spilling from your lips. He began licking your clit, but faster, almost sending you over the edge.

"Shit, don't stop," you whined softly. You couldn't control your hips as you grinded against his fingers and tongue. Your jaw dropped when he fingered you faster. Gripping his hair, your hips moved on their own as you grinded faster. You were so close, your core pulsing on his fingers. "Fuck I'm gonna cum," you whined.

Your whines became louder, the pornographic sounds of your moaning, bed creaking, and sounds coming from Mark filling the empty cabin. This is one the many times you thanked God no one was around. Your eyes rolled back and body shuddered as your orgasm hit you like a truck making you mumble curses that not even Mark could make out. You let go of his hair, plopping back down on your mattress breathing heavily.

"I'm assuming that was the first time you came in a month?" Mark slid his fingers out of you slowly, wiping the digits on your sheets. He moved your leg off his shoulder, lifting himself from between your legs.

"Do you think I'm getting myself off after hiking and being around kids in this damn camp everyday," you asked, rolling your eyes at his statement.

"No. I think you're too uptight to do that," he said with a soft chuckle.

"It's crazy that you're still calling me uptight like I won't get up and leave."

Mark didn't respond to you, laughing softly to himself knowing you wouldn't move either way. He moved off the bed untying his sweats. You watched him as he let his clothes fall to the ground, eyeing his body. Not that you couldn't get it before, but now you see why he was a big deal to the other female counselors.

"Aren't we gonna use protection," you asked, gulping when he was back in front of you.

"I don't have any," he mumbled.

"You're so fucking ridiculous," you grumbled. "You're lucky I'm on birth control."

Mark could barely hear you with how eager he was to see you lose yourself for him. No amount of mean words or insults could turn him off in the moment, every word you spoke sounded like exactly what he needed to hear. "You're so fucking hot when you're mad." His lids dropped as he grabbed your ankles, pulling you closer to him.

"Don't tease, we don't have all night," you whined.

Mark couldn't take his eyes off you as he lined himself with you, slowly entering you with ease. You looked pretty under the light of the setting sun peering through the window. The light hit your eyes perfectly as they rolled back, soft moans leaving your lips at the same time. Mark thrusted into you slowly holding your waist firmly. He wanted to savor the moment, finally able to get you under him, because even though he had you now, he might not ever get you again. It was taking everything in him to not ram into you after every move not wanting it to end too quickly.

With the way he was looking at you you thought he was gonna eat you alive. And in all honesty you would let him. It was conflicting to you that all this pent up aggression towards him exploded into sex, but you were clearly not that conflicted. You would never tell him, but you had always been attracted to him and the kiss was just the tip of the iceberg.

He slid his hands up the back of your legs, pinning them to your chest as he thrusted into you faster. Your moans echoed in the empty cabin, not even thinking about if anyone could be near. "Feels so good," you moaned.

"Who's making you feel good?"

"Fuck..you are," you whined, eyes fluttering shut as you take in pleasure.

"Good girl," he cooed. Mark watched as you slipped your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit at the same place as his thrust. His fingers were constantly kneading your legs, leaving prints in your skin. "You're close aren't you baby?"

You nodded fast, looking at him with desperate eyes. "Kiss me.. please."

Mark didn't have to think twice. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss quite literally sticking his tongue down your throat. You sucked on the wet muscle, moaning loudly on his tongue every time he thrusted into you.

"Mark..fuck," you moaned softly. Mark took a hand off your leg, wrapping an arm on the small of your back pulling you closer to him. You kissed him again, moans and whimpers poured into his mouth.

Mark moaned softly against your lips as you squeezed around him, cumming on his length. You pulled away, your lewd sounds becoming louder as he didn't stop fucking you. Mark leaned down, kissing your neck messily as you clung onto his shoulder. Mark has never had this kind of passionate feeling with a person before. It was starting to feel like more than just a sexual attraction to him, maybe he did actually have feelings for you.

"Cum in me," you said cupping his face.

Mark looked at you, brows furrowing in uncertainty. "A-are you sure? I-"

"Please baby just cum for me," you mumbled, completely taken over by the pleasure spreading in your body. "Can you do that for me?"

"Anything for you," Mark breathed out. Your words went straight to his length, his pace speeding up as he felt himself closer to cumming.

Your jaw went slack, eyes rolling back as you felt another orgasm creeping up on you. "Y-you're gonna make me cum," you whimpered.

With just a few more thrust, both you and Mark came at the same time, loud moans and groans filling the space. Mark's body went limp, laying on top of you with his face buried on the side of your neck. No one said anything for a minute, just laid there in each other's embrace trying to catch your breaths.

"I guess you don't hate me after all," Mark joked, breaking the silence.

"Only a little less."

Mark snickered as pulled himself out of you slowly. "Let's get you something to clean up with." He got up and pulled his boxers and pants on. You were sure it was because you just had sex with him, but the way you looked at him was different now. Before you were completely annoyed by his presence, but now even the little faces he made were endearing. Of course, Mark would never stop being an infuriating person to talk to but maybe you like talking to him. Maybe you liked being around him this whole time.

"If you want to go for round 2 just say it." Mark walked back to you with tissues, handing them to you with a smile. He chuckled softly when you gave him a frown for his comment. "Back to hating me I guess."

"I don't hate you Mark," you admit. The words felt unnatural to you, but they were the truth. You don't hate him, and you don't think you ever did.

"I'd like it if you did though," he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. "If what we just did considered hate fucking, please hate me more."

You rolled your eyes, tossing the dirty tissues in the trash bin across the room. "Who said it was gonna happen again?" Mark watched you closely as you shimmied back into your underwear and shorts. "What? Is there something on my face?"

"Yeah." He stood up, pulling you to him, making you gasp softly. Mark kissed you deeply, smiling against your lips when you kissed him back. "We should get back. I think we've been gone too long," he mumbled.

You nodded, kissing him one more time before he pulled away from you agonizingly slow. "Please don't be weird when we get back. I don't want to have to hate you again," you joked.

"Didn't I just tell you I want you to hate me more?"

"What do you mean you fucked him last night," Somi whisper yelled.

"Yeah..I did..right on the bed you're sitting on."

"Ew ew ew." She shot up from your bed with a frown on her face, making you laugh loudly. "Seriously what is wrong with you, why didn't you say that before I sat down?"

"Thought your reaction would be funny, and it was," you'd aid giggling.

Somi looked at you with disgust on her face, dusting off her body. "Anyways…are you guys like..a thing now?"

"I don't know. I don't think so," you answered.

"Well do you wanna be a thing?"

"Well..I think I do," you admitted. "But I don't know him that well, you know. All I did was have sex with him. What if he doesn't want anything," you said.

"You want me to be honest?"

"Please do."

"I think you should go talk to him. Like right now," she suggested.

"Now? I don't even know if he's in his cabin," you stated.

"Just go. If he's not there, go back another time. You should talk to him while your feelings are still fresh," she suggested.

Somi was right. Even though you thought it was still a bit early to talk to him, you couldn't stop thinking about him all day and all night. Throughout the day, the both of you kept stealing glances, staring at each other but not saying a word. It's been hard trying to keep your bubbling feelings for him at bay, especially when you're working so close for the summer. But Somi was right, it wouldn't hurt to try.

You nodded, sighing softly. "You're right. I should go." You turned walking to the door, but when you opened it, Mark was standing there, hand up like he was about to knock.

"Oh," you said, surprised. "Hi."

"Hey," he said, looking everywhere but at you. "Can I, um, talk to you?"

"Uh, yeah. You wanna talk here or.."

"Just walk with me. Please?" You've never seen him so nervous or unsure before. It was kind of cute. You agreed, leaving the cabin and walking along the trail with Mark.

The first couple of minutes were silent. Neither one of you said anything. The only thing that could be heard were the sounds of your feet on the dirt trial and the laughter of children from afar. But it wasn't an awkward kind of silence. It felt comfortable, he felt comfortable and warm.

"I really like you Y/N," he started. "And I know it might be weird for you, but I just felt like you had to hear it."

His words went straight to your heart, making it beat faster with every syllable. You blinked fast, not really knowing how to respond. You were afraid of coming into him too strongly, saying something that would scare him away, but you had to say something.

"I..like you too," you confessed. Your face was beginning to heat up, palms becoming clammy from the nervousness. You haven't been like this since middle school, all shy and nervous.

"So..where should we go from here?" Mark raised a brow and looked at you. You glanced at him quick enough to not want to run away from the situation all together. He grabbed your hand, making you pause mid step. Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it at this point, and you were sure he could too.

"I, uh, I don't know," you stuttered.

Mark chuckled, clasping his fingers with yours. "I've never seen you so nervous."

"I'm not nervous." You don't know who exactly you were trying to prove that too, but it definitely wasn't him because as soon as you spoke he laughed.

"I think we should start over this summer," he said. "I think we should meet each other for the first time again."

You looked at him confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he started, turning to you. He stopped walking and tugged your hand to look at him. "I mean we should start again from a clean slate. I want to get to know you better on a good note, but only if you're willing."

You gulped looking down at your feet. You must've looked like a kid with the way mark was smiling down at you. "I..I would like that. I'd like that a lot actually." You looked at him, expression going from shy to worriedm. "I'm sorry for y'know being rude and everything."

Mark didn't say anything, allowing your words to linger for a moment before he leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was softer this time, more innocent. Mark pulled away with a small smile on his face. "You don't have to apologize to me for anything. I know I've been an ass, and I'm willing to make up for it."

It was hard to keep a smile off your face and stop yourself from blushing like a kid. "If we do this, will you stop talking to me once we're out of here," you asked.

"Y/N when I said I liked you I was serious. I don't want this to be a summer fling. I actually want to get to know you before I date you," he explained.

Your eyes went wide, completely flustered from his statement. "You want to date me?" Your heart fluttered repeating his words almost immediately, getting butterflies in your stomach. "But I've been so terrible to you and-"

"So? We like each other and we should explore that this summer."

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. You let go of his hand and placed it on the back of his neck, kissing him. This was the first time you kissed him. And it felt good. It felt good knowing that you didn't have to keep trying to convince yourself you didn't like him, or that you were never attracted to him. You pulled away, eyes never leaving the man in front of you. You didn't know if this conversation would make a difference for the rest of the day or the rest of the summers, but if Mark was true to a hate he said, you could wait.

But if not, then maybe you just might hate him for real.

#nct dream #nct #nct 127 #nct u #nct fanfic #nct smut #nct x reader #nct oneshot #mark #nct mark #mark scenarios #mark x reader #mark fanfic #mark smut #nct scenarios #mark oneshot

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farfromstrange · 2 months

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Mismatched Bridesmaid | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 2 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Deciding to go to your old college roommate's wedding turns into a bad idea when you suddenly have to function as a bridesmaid until you're paired with a very handsome groomsman.

Warnings: Fluff, attempt at humor, SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "good girl", One-Night Stand, shameless flirting, kind of "horny at first sight", so cheesy it might make you hate cheese

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: I was wondering why this didn't post until I saw that I hit "save draft" instead of schedule, so this may come on time for some and too late for others, but I'm still awake, so it counts as the 15th. Also, when I wrote this it was after hinting at it on here, and I was excited at first, but I'm not too happy with it now because it's just silly and falls a little flat, in my opinion. This is why I went back in and edited a hell of a lot, adding some things, etc. Nevertheless, I promised to clear out the vault for this event, so this is it. I got inspired by seeing the She-Hulk clips when the episode with Matty came out. It may or may not be noticeable. We're also working with the Nelson, Murdock & Page narrative. Enjoy!

You are not made for white-veil occasions.

While weddings, in their essence, symbolize unity while covering different facets of romantic beauty, they are also inherently stressful for nearly everyone involved in the proceedings. Over the years of adulthood, you’ve found that weddings tend to end in disaster when you attend—and you are not particularly fond of engaging in drama.

When your old college roommate sent you an invitation to her wedding in June, you considered responding with no. You’ve been close for a few years, but then you graduated, found separate careers, and then never talked again. You weren’t sure why she would send you an invitation until you called the number on the back of the card and you began catching up. She told you that she wanted to invite you because you were a vital part of her early twenties, and it reminded you that you are both adults and you have both grown beyond what you thought possible, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell her that you couldn’t make it to her wedding. Instead, you told her that you wouldn’t miss it for the world. That answer though seemed to have turned destiny against you.

You were excited when you arrived at the chapel this morning, but as soon as your foot touched the holy ground, everything went wrong. Maybe it is because you’re an atheist and God hates you, or maybe Karma just really fucking loves toying with you. Either way, when your friend’s maid of honor—also one of the few people you hung out with during your wild college days—came up to you, looking pale and panicked, you knew that the curse you always bring to weddings was only continuing to wreak havoc.

She said to you, “One of the girls got into a car accident on her way here. Don’t worry, she’s not dead, just a broken wrist, but that means we are one bridesmaid short. I need someone to step in before Janet finds out and cuts off my head for ruining her wedding day,” and she was deadly serious about it, too.

You knew that it was a mistake to come to this wedding, especially without a date or a plus-one to fall back on.

You were so focused on marveling at the beautiful white and golden decorations living the aisle, fantasizing about the day you might be walking down one of those that you didn’t think anything could go wrong since everything had been going so right. You should have known better than to trust that treacherous feeling of excitement that you made sure to nurture before breakfast so you could enjoy the ceremony and the party afterward without making it dependent on the open bar—although that fact did help.

Instead of dreaming about free drinks though, you’re being squeezed into a satin green dress with a low cut in the front, and someone you don’t know is slathering burgundy lipstick onto your lips. They are purposely trying to turn you into a copy of all the other bridesmaids, and you hate it. You hate it so much you get the sudden urge to scratch your eyes out and tear the skin off your lips.

Janet, the maid of honor, comes back up to you. She’s aged at least ten years since you last saw her when she pulled you away from the aisle. You feel for her. The entire weight of this wedding rests on her shoulders.

She eyes you, checking your outfit, before giving you a curt nod. “Thank God, you’re hot,” she mutters. You’re not sure if you were supposed to hear it.

“Thank you?” you answer awkwardly.

“Alright.” She fixes the corners of your lipstick. “We need to pair you with a different guy than Miss I-Don’t-Know-How-To-Drive was supposed to walk down the aisle with. Your looks don’t match. You’ll get Kathy’s partner,” she says. “And we need to line up, like, now because shit is happening in five minutes, not a second later. We can’t give Bridezilla the time to kill us all.”

With a frown, you ask, “Is she aware at all of what’s happening?”

Janet shakes her head. “No, and it’s better this way. Trust me.”

You stop questioning her. She knows what she’s doing.

When she guides you outside to line up, you’re not sure what to expect. You don’t know the groom, and you don’t know his friends. You’re here on your own, and now you’re part of a bridal party that you are also barely familiar with, wearing a dress that you were forced into for the sake of aesthetics. You hate when something is reduced to aesthetics because beauty has many facets, and you would have walked down that aisle with anyone as long as you could get it over with.

Until you see him. Strikingly dark hair in a perfectly cut tuxedo that underlines the muscles hiding underneath the fabric. His eyes are hidden behind round, red glasses that reflect the sunlight coming in through the already stained glass of the chapel’s windows. In his hands, he’s holding a white cane, leaning his entire weight on it as he waits. And he waits for none other than you.

Janet paired you with the most beautiful man on this planet, you can’t deny that. The way he stands there, his sharp jawline on full display—he looks ethereal. Just looking at him makes you sweat, and you’re starting to panic. What if she made a mistake? You can’t do this. You can’t—

“Matt,” she says and shoves you beside him into the line of bridesmaids and groomsmen.

Janet introduces you, and then she’s gone. She pushes you into the cold water, forcing you to learn how to swim.

He tilts his head in your direction. “Hi,” he says. The sound of his voice resembles the purr of a black cat as it reverberates, but his grin reminds you of the Devil himself.

Fuck. Me.

You either did something very wrong to land here, or you did everything right.

“Hi,” you stammer. One look at him, and the blood rushes to your cheeks. Your face is burning.

He offers you his hand. “I’m Matt,” he says as if Janet didn’t already expose that to you.

Still, you take his hand. It’s the polite thing to do. “And I’m not supposed to be here.” Mentally, you curse yourself for being so stupid.

Matt chuckles. Even his laugh sounds bittersweet. Like dark chocolate. “I, uh, gathered as much.”

“I’m sorry,” you bite your lip, “I’m not—this is really weird. I don’t even know what to say.” You pray for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, maybe that will make it less embarrassing.

His features soften. There is no judgment. You can’t see his eyes, but there is a certain softness about him that throws you off guard, but you no longer feel like you’re drowning. “If it helps, I’m only here because I helped the groom graduate law school by writing his essays, and he feels like he owes me, so…I also don’t want to be here,” he says, and he reaches up to adjust his glasses. You get a small glimpse of his eyes. They’re hazel. Beautiful. He has an aura that draws you in; it’s not just his physical beauty that strikes you.

This man—this magnetic force of a man called Matt—is a stranger. He’s a man you were paired with to walk down the aisle even though you were never meant to be a bridesmaid in this wedding in the first place. So many things are happening to and around you at once, and you can feel the flames starting to burn and sizzle away at your skin.

You should pull yourself together. You shouldn’t stare at him. You shouldn’t listen to your heart which is hammering against your ribcage. But the emotions are already running high and you can’t possibly focus on anything else. He’s like a lifeline to you.

And God, you want him to put those calloused hands on your skin and take you to bed. But that’s not something to think about in a place of God. On the day of someone else’s wedding. Except that you can’t think of anyone else, and his proximity isn’t making the situation any better for you.

Another blush threatens to take over your features. “Oh, you’re a lawyer?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “I have a firm. Nelson, Murdock & Page.”

“Here in New York?”

“Hell’s Kitchen, yeah. Me and my associates just reopened our doors to the public after a rough year.”

“Oh, that’s...cool. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you. And what do you do, if I may ask?”

His interest takes you off guard, but you don’t hesitate to answer his question. You tell him your profession, and how you met the bride, and he listens without another word. No man has ever paid you this much attention before.

Though Janet meant it when she said that you will have to start walking in exactly five minutes, not a second longer. She passed by everyone, handing out bouquets. Green with hints of red and gold. It fits the theme. They’re beautiful, but the flowers within the bouquet become a problem when she hands you your own set.

“Janet,” you stop her from leaving. “I can’t take these.”

“The fuck you can’t,” she retorts.

“Seriously, I can’t. I’m allergic to Jasmines. I’ll sneeze.”

She glares at you. “Then fucking hold it.”

There is no arguing with her, and she passes by you to continue putting everyone in their places. You stare down at the bouquet, your nose already starting to itch. The smell alone is enough to make you nauseous.

To your surprise, Matt reaches for the flowers. “May I?” he asks, but he has already grabbed a hold of them.

“Sure,” you answer, curious about where he’s going with this.

“Hold this.” He guides the top of his cane into your hand.

His fingers feel along the red ribbon. He takes a whiff. There are so many scents that would be overwhelming even to someone without heightened senses due to a lacking fifth one, so you’re even more surprised when he finds the Jasmines without a struggle. He traces the petals just to make sure, and he quickly pulls the flowers out of the bouquet, tightening the ribbon around the now smaller girth in the process.

Tossing them behind one of the pillars in the corridor, he hands them back to you. “Here,” he murmurs. “For you.”

Words elude you.

“Are you allergic to anything else?” The question is valid, considering you’re still not making a move to take the bouquet from him.

You exhale a shaky breath, reaching for the flowers, and answer without missing another beat, “Weddings.”

That elicits a giggle from him. The sound is enough to make your heart melt. Does he know what he’s doing to you?

Matt opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of heels clicking against the marble floors stops you both dead in your tracks.

Your entire body recoils when the bride’s voice rings out, echoing, “Who the fuck mismatched my bridesmaids?”

A hand rests on your bicep, and you don’t even have to look down to know that it is Matt’s. He’s the only one standing to your right, anyway. He squeezes as though to let you know that you won’t lose your head, but you’re not so sure now that your college roommate is glaring at you in a white dress that reminds you of a pastry, and her eyes are full of fury. He can’t see it, but he would cower in fear if he did.

Thankfully, Janet pulls her aside, explaining the situation to her.

“She what?!” she screeches. “On my wedding day? Are you kidding me?”

“Yes, because car accidents respect timing when it comes to special occasions,” Janet counters.

You snort. Matt beside you digs his teeth into his bottom lip, but even he can’t hide his amusement.

“Oh, snap,” you mutter under your breath.

“Shots have been fired,” he says.

“I think we’re witnessing a double homicide.”

“I’m not a very credible witness. I can only describe how it sounded, unfortunately.”

Your snort turns into a laugh. The bride’s head snaps around, and you go quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” you choke out.

“If she decides to throw a punch at your pretty face,” Matt’s breath tickles your ear, “I can be your attorney and sue her ass.”

This time, you’re conscious enough to slap a hand in front of your mouth to stifle your reaction. “How do you know I’m pretty?” you whisper back between little giggles.

He shrugs with a smirk of his own. “I just know.”

He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, and you have no choice but to submit.

Janet manages to bring some calm back to her friend eventually, and then it’s showtime. Right on the second, it’s time for you to walk down the aisle, and you have never been happier about a strict schedule and someone adamant about keeping that schedule for the sake of all of your lives.

Your roommate has always been a very dominant personality, so you’re aware of the things she can do when she doesn’t get what she wants.

An 80s pop ballad begins to play. You make sure to match your pace to everyone else but also make sure that you’re not running away from your partner.

You may have been a mismatched bridesmaid, but you can’t complain about the company.

Against all odds, the service is beyond beautiful. It’s not often you get to stand so close when two people who seem to truly love each other make a vow to be there for each other for the rest of their lives. You can’t help but shed a tear. They complement each other perfectly. Is that ever in the cards for you? Will you ever be able to have what they have? Or will you always feel like you’re not worthy of this kind of unconditional love and endless devotion—of someone wanting to spend the rest of their life with you?

You look over at Matt. The hint of a cross necklace is starting to peek out underneath his dress shirt. Of course, he’s Catholic.

He carries himself with such a grace that puts everyone else in this room to shame. Does he know that you’re staring at him? You hope not.

After the ceremony, you lose sight of Matt in the masses. He doesn’t owe you a goodbye, but you still feel a little disappointed when you return to the dressing room and finally peel the satin dress off of your very sweaty skin.

At the party afterward, he’s still nowhere to be found. You give up. Not that you want to spend the evening with him anyway, but you kind of do. You drown your sorrows in a glass of vodka cranberry and a bowl of olives. They taste like rotten meat, but there are too many people by the buffet for your liking. The last thing you want to do is mingle and get asked stupid questions by people you don’t even know. So, you stay back, and you watch from afar as everyone is having the time of their lives not so far away from you, but far enough for you to breathe.

“And here I thought weddings were supposed to be a joyous occasion,” Matt pipes up beside you, and you twirl around in your chair to face him with wide eyes.

You didn’t expect to see him back here. “Hi!” you exclaim. “What’re you—I thought you left.”

“Nah,” he says. “I just had to take care of some things.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

He smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes, that’s why I asked.”

Folding his cane, Matt lowers himself down on one of the chairs beside you and orders himself a beer with the bartender. “Let’s just say that I have an important court case coming up and I had to make a call.”

You take another sip from your drink. “That sounds a lot more exciting than my life, to be honest.”

“You are sulking at a wedding. Thinking about an ex?”

“More like life in general.”

“Ah, yes, the eternal fear of dying alone.” He raises his bottle to yours. “I’ll drink to that.”

A laugh escapes you. “That was cynical,” you say.

“And you’re not?”

He beats you at your own damn game, and he finally gets that smile he has been vying for.

“Are you smiling?” his voice is barely above a whisper.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “Maybe.” But the smile is audible in your voice, giving you away.

Matt smirks, nodding his head. “Good girl.”

The sharp vodka runs down the wrong pipe. You cough. Did he just—

He did.

He pats your back, and his hand lingers a lot longer than it should. He looks so smug. Pleased with himself. That part of him is stupidly attractive to you, even though you would usually hate such cockiness in any other man. But Matt isn’t like any other man.

You apologize for your reaction, but he should be the one apologizing to you for throwing you off your game. What is he doing? You can’t read him. You wish you could because that would make this so much easier, but that’s probably the point. He wants to tease you. He wants to mess with your head. He’s a dick. A fucking attractive dick that could tell you to do just about anything and you in your flustered state would go along with it without hesitations. That’s the kind of control he has over you, and you just met. It feels like a twisted form of destiny, but you can’t quite believe it. Yet.

“Do you always do that?” you dare to ask.

He frowns. “Do what?”

“Flirt with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests?”

A playful smirk plays on his lips.

“It’s been known to happen,” says Matt.

You poke your tongue against the soft tissue of your cheek. “Cheeky,” you murmur.

“That’s also been known to happen.”

“What, being cheeky with—”

“—with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests? Yes.” He’s catching on quickly.

You laugh and nod. “Yeah, that.”

“I do have to say though,” he adds, and for a second you think he might ruin the joke instead of playing it out further, but Matt is full of surprises, “Out of all the mismatched bridesmaids I’ve met in my thirty-something years of, um, living, you’re my favorite so far.”

With your hand, you start fanning your face rather dramatically. “I feel honored,” you say.

Again, he chuckles. “You should be.”

“Why, because you’re so irresistible?”

“I was going to say that I don’t like a lot of people because, you know, they’re dicks, but that works too.”

“Wow.” You take another sip. The liquor burns its way down your sore esophagus. “You have balls, man.”

“Is that a problem?” he counters with a question.

The answer comes naturally. “No,” you say. “I like it.”

“Good.” Hearing you clink the ice cubes against your empty glass by swirling it around, Matt concludes that you need a refill. “Can I get you another drink?” he asks.

The question sounds so innocent, but the look on his face renders you speechless. His hand inches dangerously close to yours on the counter, his knee brushing yours, and the heat shoots straight to your neglected cunt.

Fuck this.

“You could do that, or we could skip that part and just…you know.”

One brush of your hand against his thigh, that’s all it takes for him to know.

Pushing you through the door to his apartment a few minutes later, his lips are on you. The door falls shut with a loud bang, and he presses you against the wall of his hallway.

His lips feel like a silky cloud of lewdness. The way he kisses you is utterly erotic. Your lips part in a delicious moan that he swallows with a grunt of his own. He swallows it all, shoving his tongue into the tight confines of your mouth, and exploring every inch he can reach. He tastes you. He consumes you.

His hands desperately search for an ounce of bare skin. He’s tugging at your clothes, sliding and tearing them aside. Once his fingers finally brush over the bare skin of your stomach, he melts.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your leg hooks around his waist. You can’t wait. He has ignited a fire within you that no one has been able to light before. He’s touching you with a precision that puts your former lovers to shame. He’s paying attention to your every breath and heartbeat, and with every touch, he asks, “May I?”

You don’t even make it to the bedroom. Once he has successfully removed the bottom half of your clothes, he falls to his knees. He is a sight to behold. The disarray of colors that shines into his apartment illuminates his face, bathing it in a selection of hues that bring out his best features.

Matt has yet to take off his glasses, and you take the opportunity to tear them away from his face. You’re gentle though. You ask him, “May I?” mirror the question he has been asking you throughout the night, and after a thick swallow, he nods.

You caress his cheek as you remove his glasses, and when you finally see his hazel eyes in all of their glory, you have to bow down to capture his lips in a soft kiss.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper. “So fucking beautiful, Matt.”

He whimpers. You could have sworn to have imagined it, but when you stroke his cheek with such a gentleness it almost makes him recoil in anguish, you know that you didn’t imagine the sound from his lips. You kiss it away. You kiss all of his insecurities away. You want him to feel as good as he is making you feel. You don’t know him, but you want to get to know him, and if he’s ready to surrender himself to you, you are more than ready to do the same for him. He can feel that with every brush of your fingertips and every kiss you deliver to his plump lips that taste like heaven and hell in itself.

Your words don’t leave him cold. His cock is aching in his pants—you take note of his impressionable size, which only makes you more excited for what’s to come—but he refuses to take it out. Not until you’re fully satisfied. To be honest, you could come just from staring at him on his knees in front of you, looking like he would lay the world to your feet and kill everyone who has ever dared to hurt you, but that is not enough for him.

He needs the experience. Feeling your skin, tasting you, and breathing in all facets of your natural scent mixed with the artificial one from your shampoo. He can’t get enough of it. Of you. Of everything about and within you. He’s as attracted to your body as he is consumed by your soul. You’ve got him in a deadlock, but he would never complain about that.

You gasp when Matt grabs your thigh and throws it over his shoulder. Your panties are gone within seconds, torn on the floor somewhere. You’re completely bare to him.

You want to warn him that you didn’t shave, but he doesn’t care.

Before you know it, he has flattened his tongue against your pussy, and he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit.

“Fuck!” you cry out, reaching for support on the wall behind you.

He flicks the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, testing the waters before he sucks it into his mouth.

His grip on your thigh becomes bruising. Matt eats you out like he has been starving for years and you are his first and last meal. He sucks on your clit, and he fucks you with his tongue. Your pussy is the altar he worships at. Your arousal is his holy water. He dives deeper and deeper into the wetness between your thighs, and he moans loudly when you pull at his hair.

“Fuck, Matt–” You’re clawing at whatever you can find. It feels so good. You’re higher than you have ever been.

The sound of his mouth working your slick folds toward eternal bliss is obscene and utterly sinful. His stubble scratches against your inner thighs. The pain grounds you in the here and now, making you focus on the tidal wave that is about to crash into you and tear you to shreds.

You can’t even warn him before your orgasm takes over, and it takes you into another dimension. You come with a shout of his name. It’s nothing short of explosive. The orgasm drags on through his mouth on your clit, relentlessly sucking until the nerves jump, and you’re begging him to stop.

His face glistens. With every kiss up your body, Matt marks you. By the time he has reached your quivering lips, he still tastes like you.

“You did so well,” he whispers. “Such a good girl for me.”

You exhale. Without his shoulders to hold onto, you would probably lose your footing. “You’re crazy,” is all you can say.

He smirks. “In a good way, I hope.”

“Yes. Fuck.”

“Regret coming home with me?”

“Absolutely not.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He lifts you with ease. “Then I’m going to make it worth your while.”

And when your back hits the soft mattress and silk sheets of his bed, you don’t doubt that he is going to make good on his promise.

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #daredevil #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fluff #daredevil x reader #reader insert #lizzi’s vault #charlie cox

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kuamiru · 1 year

Text

The Golden Child Part I

SAGAU & Impostor AU where the reader is the child of the actual creator.

Warnings: blood.

If you haven't read the prologue yet, it's here.

The fedora your father had gifted you made it impossible to see what was happening around you. Ever since he woke you up in a hurry so early in the morning, he refused to tell you what exactly was going on. Instead, he took you to the city of Liyue, a place you knew well as he would let you join some travels he had to make thanks to his work.

The city was exactly as you remembered it, it's just that you had never seen so many people gathered in one place. They appeared to be celebrating something, for there were a lot of people standing in a platform before all the crowd. Your father shoved many people off so you both could stand somewhat close. If it weren't for the oversized hat he forced you to wear, maybe you'd have heard and see what the commotion was about. The only hint you had was the moving feet of the ones closest to you, followed by muffled screaming and cheering. You could only look up to see your father, only to find his face drowned in terror. He seemed to notice your gaze against him as he held you closer and gently shoved your face in his chest.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay..." he whispered time and time again. More than you, he seemed to be saying this for himself.

Soon the cheering became shouts of agony, something made the crowd stop celebrating and replace their cheers of happyness for pure anguish. You wanted to raise the fedora and see what was going on but your father quickly put it down and started running away.

Now all the voices were starting to become more and more distant. You could no longer see the streets made of stone, only the grass and dirt that made up the way from Liyue to your secluded house in the woods. It was only halfway through when you were able to return the hat to him.

"Papa, what's happening?"

He didn't answer your question, he just kept running straight to the house.

Upon arriving he let you go on the sofa and quickly started to gather clothes and provisions, making a mess out of the cabin.

"Papa?" you asked again, and this time he turned to you, crouching to your level so he could see you in the eyes.

"Stardust, I need you to carefully hear my words, okay?" He gave a soft smile at your nod. "Remember how we talked to you about those people that were trying to harm your tata?"

You nodded once again, not knowing why your parent was brought up in the conversation. Speaking of them, where were they? You looked around the room for a second before your father put both his hands in your cheeks so you were only looking at him.

"Look at me, stardust. Those people... they took your tata. And now they're looking for us." He did his best not to let a sob out. He would have time to mourn later when they both were safe. "We have to go. Take whatever you can carry in your arms and let's depart."

He immediately rushed to finish his task. We're his words true? Was your tata... taken? That's why all the people in Liyue were celebrating? Did those people hate your family that much...? You wanted to cry, but the shout of your father to hurry up made you shake these thoughts and run to your bedroom. The tears started to flow silently as you grabbed some clothes and your stuffed animal. You could not leave it here, it was made by your parent's hand...

All the items were thrown into a little backpack and you quickly went to the front door where your father was already with the door open and scanning the forest.

He turned to you. "Ready, dear? I need you to be brave, okay? I will protect you no matter what."

Before you could even nod he already had your hand in his and started running into the woods. You took one last look at your little house, watching it get smaller and smaller with each step. It made your little heart hurt, thinking that this might be the last time seeing it. This felt so foreign to those times where you departed with your father just like this, holding hands and your parent saying goodbye from the doorframe.

Soon there was nothing more than trees and tall grass to look at. The green scenery started to slowly become more yellow and rocky. He never took you this far... was this still even Liyue?

"Just a little more..." He assured you, tugging at your hand every time you started to fall behind.

You couldn't help it. Your legs were small and you were starting to get tired. Plus, there was this weird feeling that somebody was watching you, making you look in every direction trying to find the source and almost tripping a few times for not paying attention to the ground.

The rocky ground started to overtake nature. Now all you could see was a mixture of gray, red, orange, and yellow; all together in an enormous hole in front of you.

"This is The Chasm." Your father said, panting heavily from all the running. "We just need to cross this and we'll be—"

"HALT!"

His words were interrupted by a polearm descending from the skies and impacting in front of you. He stood in front of you, shielding your small form from the wind and rocks that were sent flying from the impact. When you raised your eyes, a brown figure stood in place. He was gripping the weapon tightly and observed you both with anger in his golden eyes.

The figure took one step forward. "You were there... I remember you at the execution." He spoke. Your father took one step backward. "And I remember that you were the last person Their Grace laid their eyes upon."

The new man started to walk towards you, startling your dad who tried to cover you from the stranger's eyes. It seemed to have the contrary effect, as he now was looking right at you.

"Don't make my job harder. Hand over the child." He extended his arm, giving you an opportunity to remain on his good side.

"Please, we're just a merchant with his child... We have no relation to Their Divine Grace!" He lied.

The stranger dropped his hand and raised his polearm.

"If that's so, then pray tell why you claim yourself a merchant yet you have nothing on you but personal belongings. No merchant goes through The Chasm while running with a child."

The gound below you started to vibrate.

"If you have nothing to hide, you'll have no problem with me taking a look at your child." The man started to approach again, and your father took his two daggers off his sleeves and stood on guard. "So that's how it's going to be..."

The earth almost split itself from the impact.

The strong wind produced from the clash of polearm and daggers was enough to send you flying some meters away. You landed on a convenient and small patch of grass that helped cushion your fall. It was always like this, your parent always told you that both you and them were loved by this world and nature would always find a way to help you.

You quickly stood up, watching how your father was trying with all his might not to get stabbed or wounded by the edge of the weapon. His daggers could only block or deflect the thrust, he was at a clear disadvantage as he could not get closer to his opponent. Not even his electro vision seemed to help much, there wasn't a lot of fighting he could do without accidentally hurting you.

"Hah!" The stranger managed to knock off the daggers off him and wasted no time in raising his weapon ready to strike.

Desperation filled you. These people already took you tata, they can't take papa too!

"No!!"

The attack didn't impact the male's body, as it was suddenly pushed aside. You had thrown yourself against your father safely putting him out of harm's way. He had the wind knocked out of him, and it took him a couple of seconds to fully return to the fight. The first thing he saw was the shocked face of his attacker, amber eyes fixated on the little figure on top of himself. He followed his gaze and felt the blood drain from his face as he watched his child hug him, bearing a light cut on their arm that was barely bleeding. The red, however, rapidly became gold upon exiting the wound.

"It is you... The child of our Divine One!" The stranger exclaimed, making his polearm disappear. "You don't have to be afraid little one, I'm not going to hurt—"

Your father encircled your body with his arms, gently pushing you off him and lowering you at his side so he was still between you and him.

"DON'T COME CLOSER!" He threatened the man. The fury in his voice even surprised you- you had never seen your papa get this angry... "I saw what you did back there! You are all monsters! I don't trust any of you, not even an archon like you!"

Was that really true? Was the man in front of you an archon, a deity? But he looked pretty human to you. In fact, he was no different from any other person you've seen in Liyue.

The brown figure seemed to be irritated at his words for he furrowed his brows. "My job is to retrieve the Divine Child unharmed; should you interfere, I will be sure to show no mercy. I do not care what relationship you have to Their Grace or their child."

As if to prove his point, the earth beneath rumbled once again. Your father gritted his teeth, mind working as fast as it could to find some solution, an exit to this predicament...

"Stardust, please hear my words." He whispered to you in a hurry. "If I'm unable to get out of here I need you to keep moving. Sumeru is just across this hole... Do you understand?" You shake your head in panic. "Please my baby, I need you to be safe. Lord Sangemah Bay is waiting for us there... can you remember that name? Lord Sangemah Bay."

Tears started to flow from your eyes, still shaking your head as if saying no. You were scared, what your papa was saying sounded almost like he was ready to stay here so you could run away.

"Don't leave me papa!" You cried as you held onto him tighter, only for him to abruptly throw you a couple of meters away and immediately plunge his dagger in the ground, making use of his vision to summon a powerful lighting and make it strike the ground between him and the archon.

The impact made you all three temporarily go blind. The ground shook violently, making you stumble and unable to stand up. The two men were in the radius of the attack, and when the earth started to crumble it was too late to get out. A giant hole formed where they once stood, and the only thing you could see through your half-blinded eyes was the figure of your father and the archon falling down, deep into The Chasm.

"NOOO!!" You tried to run to the hole desperate to get to your dad, only for roots to raise from the ground and block your path. They would not let you get closer, and even a strong wind was pushing you in the opposite direction. Just like nature always helped your tata and you, this time it was making sure you followed the route to safety.

The roots below you started getting wet from your tears. You gripped them with force, trying to bend or break them, only to find out that your childish strength could not even move them slightly. You cried against them, your heart weeping for the sudden loss of both your parents.

Why? Why did this have to happen? You were a little but happy family of three, living deep into the woods and not bothering anyone. You didn't even understand why there were people looking for your tata! They were the most amazing parent ever! Always there to cook you your favorite food and play all the games you loved and learned thanks to your trips to Liyue city. Both them and your father had already tried to explain as best as they could to a child the reason why your parent never left the cabin, and you could only get sad that you would never experience with your parent all the thing you did with your father.

"Papa... tata..." Your little heart was mourning for the life that was taken from you in a spawn of only a few hours. They took your parent, and now your dad sacrificed himself so they would not take you too. "Papa... please come back. Papa, papa, please... I need you to come back... Don't die, papa..."

Your pleads were answered only by the strong wind. It once more tried to shove you away from the scene, the roots growing more to prove the point. It pained you to leave your father here, but he told you to keep moving... Sumeru was really close and this Lord Sangemah Bay may be the only person who could help you now.

You turned to face the road ahead and saw how little white flowers blossomed one after another in a straight line in front of you, as if they were showing you the way. You took one step forward only to have your foot clash with a sturdy object. Lowering your gaze, you found yourself staring at the reimaining dagger your father used laying forgotten on the floor. You chocked on a ugly sob.

There was no time to lose. You gently picked up the little weapon and stored it in your backpack before running through the flower path. No monsters nor animals appeared in your way, they seemed to notice your desperation and made sure to stay away from the path.

The gray and gradient red started to slowly become a deep and vibrant green once more. The air was starting to feel more humid, too. The large trees soon appeared in your vision, and the artificial flower path merged with an already existent dirt road.

You finally did it. You were in Sumeru now.

——————————

Hello! This is a taglist. Should you wish for me to add or remove you, you can ask for it.

@cryastre - @someone-with-wild-imagination - @esthelily - @ursinaw - @shizunxie - @meep13r - @clayallor

However, I don't know why I can't tag some blogs. I hope this reaches you well.

#genshin impact #genshin impact au #sagau #impostor au #sagau impostor au #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact x reader #reader #cult au #genshin cult au #genshin self aware #platonic yandere #yandere #genshin x reader #platonic yandere x reader #yandere x reader #zhongli

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hollytoshaw · 28 days

Text

golden hour | harry lewis

summary: singer!y/n releases an album and all songs are dedicated to harry <333

face claim: dua lipa

a/n: had so much fun making these edits, hope you all enjoy!!!

rest of my work hereeee : masterlist

y/n_username posted a photo!

liked by ksi and 450,201 others! y/n_username working on something special 🎤💘 ...

taliamar wonder what it could be🤭 ↳ y/n_username you tell me miss mar

faithlouiseak you're so cute ↳ y/n_username you're the cutest???

ynfan53 sTOP are we getting a new album ?????

w2slover3 when y/n is in the studio you know we're about to be fed

ksi goat ↳ y/n_username 🫡

sidemenfan i'm so ready for my spotify wrapped to be dedicated to y/n

y/n_username posted a photo!

liked by wroetoshaw and 450,249 others! y/n_username GOLDEN HOUR with my boy 🤍 tagged : wroetoshaw

...

wroetoshaw moments before you fell and landed in the water ↳ y/n_username don't bait me out harry y/nfan2 did she mean to type in caps lol

sidemenlover5 why is y/n shouting in the caption

taliamar nice caption ↳ y/n_username really good isn't it

y/n_username posted an instagram story!

y/n_username posted a photo!

liked by wroetoshaw and 530,293 others! y/n_username so the news is out! my new album ‘golden hour’ is out november 24th!!! i’m so excited for you all to hear this, i’m so incredibly proud of it 🤍☀️pre order now. link in bio!!! tagged: taliamar, y/nmusic

...

ksi legend

faithlouiseak omg can’t wait to hear it

taliamar i love you 🤍😭

wroetoshaw so proud my girl

y/nfan200 omg it’s coming out on harry’s bday

w2synlove HARRYS BDAY IS THE RELEASE DATE😭

w2sfanpage omg every song is gonna be dedicated to harry i can’t even

sidemenw2s4 no way 🥺🥺🥺🥺

ynfanpage does this mean we’re getting a tour?? 🤯

taliamar posted an instagram story! wroetoshaw posted an instagram story!

y/n posted a photo!

liked by wroetoshaw and 490,249 others! y/n_username celebrating the new album with my forever muse 🤍

tagged: wroetoshaw

…

wroetoshaw cheers for posting one with me posing

ynfan2 harry being y/n’s biggest fan 🥺

w2sfanpage trained harry so well to take pics

freyanightingale you are glowing 😍

gkbarry gorgeous girl

bambinobecky 🔥🔥🔥

y/n_username posted a photo!

liked by wroetoshaw & 432,029 others! y/n_username first night performing the new album 'golden hour'! just want to say a big thank you to everyone who has supported me and to everyone who came to watch last night, i love you all. most importantly a big thank you to my muse, harry, love you forever, you are the best supporter ever <3

taliamar best night ever!!!

freyanightingale this outfit omg

wroetoshaw 😍

r0sielewis you gorgeous girl

faithlouiseak so proud

geenelly so fit 🔥🔥🔥

sidemanxfan i need to get tour tickets!!!

harryxlewisfan my fave song is greedy <333

miaxmon unreal outfit

w2slover her muse being harry melts my heart

2 months before november 24th - the album release After months of honing her craft, Y/N had finally finished recording her second music album. The album was a culmination of her dreams. Each song was like a labor of love, a piece of her heart poured out for everyone to hear. And the album was about something very special. Someone who Y/N spent every breathing moment thinking about. Someone who she loved so dearly. Her Harry. She was sure nearly all the songs on the album were dedicated to him and she had been hiding them away from him, waiting for the right moment to show him what she’d been working on.

One evening, a few weeks before November 24th (Harry’s birthday & the release date for her album), Y/N had returned home with excitement in her heart. She finally had a copy of her new album in her hands. Stepping through the front door she was greeted by the familiar scent of Harry's favourite candle mingling with the aroma of something delicious cooking in the kitchen. The smell of home met her at the door everyday and it was something she'd never get tired of.

She kicked off her shoes and padded through the hallway, anticipation bubbling in her chest. Into the sitting room she went to find Harry lying on their navy sofa, his phone in his hand, scrolling on tiktok. His eyes flicked up at the sound of her pattering across the floor in her socks. Putting his phone on the arm of the sofa, he got up to greet her with a hug and a kiss on the forehead.

This was a daily routine for Y/N and Harry - either one of them coming through the day later than the other and just immediately embracing each other. The feeling of comfort was unmatched.

“You’re finally home,” he said, wrapping his hands around her frame “-i’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too H.” Y/n replied slightly muffled as her head was resting against his chest.

As she pulled away slightly from their hug, Harry could feel some sort of hard plastic digging into his side. With furrowed brows, he looked down at the item in her hands and then back up at Y/N, still as confused as he had been originally.

“What have you wasted your money on today?” he joked, remembering every silly little thing Y/N had bought ranging from outfits for the dog to matching toothbrush holders - she had an obsession with buying the most random, useless stuff and most of it was left for Harry to store away in the spare room once she realized it was no use to her anymore.

“Nothing,” she laughed, gently hitting him in the chest. “Here, come sit back down, I’ve something to show you.”

Leading him back to his original seat on the coach, Y/N walked just a few steps behind the sofa, placing the CD into a blue stereo sat on a small table. Harry watched as she put the CD in, curiosity overwhelming him, his eyes following her as she sat back down next to him, crossing her legs, eyes beaming with excitement and her stomach full of butterflies.

“Just listen,” she said.

As the first notes filled the room, Harry listened intently, his heart swelling with pride as he recognised Y/N’s unmistakable voice.

With the album progressing as each song ended and a new one began, Harry’s eyes grew larger and he felt his hands reaching out to hold Y/N’s. Each song seemed to speak directly to him, capturing moments from their relationship with clarity and emotion. He listened in awe as Y/N poured her heart and soul into every lyric, baring the deepest thoughts and feelings for the world to heart. Whilst Harry wasn’t the biggest fan of public displays of affection, this album was the completely opposite, he was so proud of her.

By the time the last song faded away, Y/N was sat with a big grin on her face and Harry had one to match her on his . A feeling of love and gratitude was overflowing in his heart - to be fair he always had that feeling around Y/N but something about these songs and her face smiling up at him made his heart want to explode.

“Every song…it’s about us, isn’t it?” he whispered.

Y/N nodded, her eyes shining with love. “Yes, H. Every lyric in every song, all for you,”

''You soppy bastard,'' he grinned, laughing as she rolled her eyes.

''What do you think of it?'' Y/N asked, eyebrows furrowed, ''is it too soppy?''

''Not at all,'' Harry paused, ''I love it - honestly.''

''Really?'' Y/N smiled. She knew Harry was never one to lie to her so him expressing that he actually liked the album was a great feeling for her - he truly meant it.

''Yes, really'' Harry confirmed. ''I mean, it's no KSI but I'd definitely give it a listen on Spotify.''

He received a light swat on the back of the head ''Oh shut up.''

Echoes of his laugh filled the sitting room as he held onto Y/N's hands, eyes meeting hers. ''Being serious now, it's the best thing I've heard in a while, m' so proud of you my girl.'' And with a kiss of her forehead, Y/N relaxed, content she had her boy's approval.

a/n: hope you all enjoyed! been in my drafts so thought i'd finally post <3333

#w2s #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #harry wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry w2s #sidemen #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw oneshot #hollytoshaw #chris md #arthurtv #sidemen x reader

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norrisleclercf1 · 8 months

Note

pierre and reader who were childhood besties but he cuts ties with her to keep her safe but she gets hurt.

like i imagine they had those pretend weddings and printed out a fake marriage certificate and someone finds it and thinks they are actually married so they hurt the reader.

and pierre flips cus he literally left her to protect her but she still got hurt

A/N: See this is marriage, when you're having a shitty day and your wifey sends me this golden piece

"Will you just grow a pair; we need to find the information." A man hisses, standing in the pitch-black house. They shouldn't be in this house, no one was home, and the owner would not be so forgiving if they found out they were here. "Shut up, you fucker; the only reason we're here is because the boss said so." Creeping down the hallway, they have to be careful.

While this house had no one living in it for a while, they didn't know what type of security it would have. Breaking into the leader of the French Mafia was not brilliant, but they needed something against him. Studying the layout beforehand, they just needed to find the office.

They could use old papers or personal information. Reaching the door, they stopped waiting in case they could hear any ticks or anything to let them know if there were traps. Hearing nothing, they throw their bodies against the door, breaking it.

"Search everywhere." Nodding, the two men go off looking for a picture or a piece of paper with a name on it. One of the men stops, seeing a lock on a drawer. Taking their hammer, they knock it off and stop. "The fuck, he's married?" The other man laughs. "He's not." Reaching in, he pulls out the scrapbook.

"Really? Because this is filled with wedding pictures of him and some chick." Flipping through the pictures, he stares at the young face of Pierre Gasly and some girl in a white dress. "They look young." And they're right. The pictures were taken when you and Pierre were preteens.

It was one of those silly we'll get faked married and then promise to marry each other for real. Pierre was the first boy you loved, like truly loved in an all-consuming way. It was stupid, but you didn't know the future. It didn't realize that Pierre would stop talking to you and drop off the face of the planet. You last spoke years ago but kept the pictures and fake marriage certificates.

Sadly, the two dumbasses now in the office didn't know they were fake; to them, they found the holy grail of breaking Pierre Gasly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Yes, I'm home." Balancing your phone to your ear as you jam the keys into your apartment door. "Mama, stop. Paris is safe alright, no one followed me, and I'm about to enter my apartment. Please calm down." This was a daily thing, talking down your mother as you walked from work to home.

She hated that you lived in the big city, wishing you stayed home. But Paris has been safe for many years, and it was no worry to you. Walking in, you drop your purse, kick off your shoes, walking to the windows. Your cat, Eclair. The damn cat Pierre got you as a "wedding gift" was still alive. It reminded you of fonder times.

"Mama, I'm safe. It's just me and Eclair here. I'm hanging up." Ending the call, you groan, rubbing the tips of your fingers over Eclair's back. "It's not just you and Eclair here." Gasping, you spin around, coming face to face with a man in a mask. "Tell Pierre we say hello." Raising his arm, something heavy whips across your skull. You didn't even make it to the floor before passing out.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The harsh cleaner smell hits you first, then the feeling of your skull splitting open. Noises leave your mouth, and you want to move your arms, but your body is so heavy it's like lead. "Ow." Throat is tight, so dry from no water or talking for a few days.

"Mhmh." Blinding lights have you blinking fast. Eyes adjusted to the darkness, now facing the light worsens the pain. Yet you fight against it, ears ringing, and finally, settle on the beeping to your right. The blurriness fades away as you take in the pristine white of the room.

You're alive.

Eyes float around the room, taking in everything, but a splash of color has your attention. Dirty blonde hair and tan skin against the black outfit have you squint. You don't know anyone who would dress or look like this. Maybe a cop? Waiting for you to wake up to ask about the attack?

"You're awake?" That voice didn't belong to a cop; no, it belonged to someone you haven't seen for what seems like a lifetime. "Pea-Pierre?" You have to stop the slip of the nickname. The body stands as it moves over to your side, leaning over. Those blue eyes, you dream of those blue eyes.

"I'm here, ma femme." You make a noise, something of a laugh, which has him smiling, his fingers hanging off the railing, touching the cloth wrapped around your head. "Don't talk. They did some damage." Something in those soft blue eyes has them hardened in the corners. No one else would notice, but you have stared into those eyes and learned everything about them.

"I want to apologize, but I can't. I left to protect you, yet my leaving left you unprotected in a way I never imagined. They went after you to get to me." Pierre smiles, seeing how your face morphs, wanting to ask questions, yet you can't. "I can't tell you why," Reaching down, he clasps your hand in his, pressing a feather touch of a kiss to them.

"But, when you get out. You're coming with me, then I'll tell you everything. Just sleep." You hate that you can't fight, but sleep is dragging you down, slipping you back into the darkness you've grown accustomed to.

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turtletaubwrites · 3 months

Text

Numbers Game ~ Part 3

Part 1 ~ Part 2

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader (We're getting there! Still building up)

Word Count: 3065

Ao3 Link

Summary: Today is your first day of work for your new bosses, and they make sure you know how valued you are. The Cross Guild is officially announced, and you enjoy a glass of wine after work.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Alcohol, Swearing, Angst, Smut, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Guilt, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Dom/sub Undertones, No Smut, just intense teasing and Mihawk bossing reader around, she likes it too much, Dom Dracule Mihawk, Is it a foot thing if he touches your foot with his hook and calls it pretty? 🤷🏼‍♀️, Reader wears a skirt and heels

A/N: It's a very stressful work day, y'all. Reader needs to relax 🤭🍷

“Don’t tell me you’re slacking on your first day.”

“No, sir,” you stuttered, stumbling out of bed at the threat of Crocodile’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Don’t keep us waiting,” Mihawk’s voice drawled as you stripped, emptying your bag onto the bed to search for something to wear.

“We’ll leave a guard waiting for you. You’d better not look like a circus freak when you're done.”

Crocodile huffed, heavy steps moving away.

You fell back against the bed, naked and clutching at your chest as your heart tried to leave your body.

“Fuck…”

You didn’t have many professional clothes left after all these months with Buggy. There were probably some hidden in his quarters still, but you doubted they’d let you go back there again.

Miraculously, you found a black pencil skirt. The slit along your thigh was far higher than you’d have gotten away with while working at the bank, but it was the closest you could find to normal clothes.

Everything else was neon, or had ruffles, or glitter.

‘Look at my flashy girl.’

Buggy’s pleased voice floated through your mind, the memory making your body crave a version of him you couldn’t imagine anymore. Where was that wild pirate that had whisked you away from your boring life? Where was the man who could please you with his body in ways you’d never thought possible before?

He was probably still bleeding on the floor.

While you dealt with the consequences of his actions.

You found a top that was a solid color, hoping that they’d ignore the fact that it was ‘Buggy Blue.’

The only shoes you had were luckily black, but they were meant to be flashy, not practical.

We didn’t wear shoes most of the time.

Months and months in bed, excuses and laughter filling the air. Lounging, and drinking, and fucking everyday.

Was it worth it?

Stepping into the hallway with your too tall heels, you let the guard guide you back to that open room.

With that velvet, green couch.

“There she is,” Crocodile looked up as you entered, eyes narrowing as he scanned you.

Mihawk was perched close by, a small, steaming mug in his hand.

You stepped further in, and the guard closed the door behind you, leaving you alone with them.

“You’re okay?”

That small voice held so much relief, and your breath hitched as you looked for its source.

Buggy.

Buggy sat on the ground as he leaned against the wall, dried blood caked on his face, his makeup like a faded stain.

You cried out his name, moving toward him before you could think.

Sand surrounded you, and you lost your footing as you stepped into a wave of it.

“Come now, none of that.”

Mihawk’s golden eyes pierced yours as the sand fell away, your ill fitting shoes falling to the ground as the swordsman lifted you in his arms.

He didn’t set you back down. You tried not to cling to his bare chest as he carried you toward Crocodile, and that stupid, green couch.

You held your breath as his thumbs traced lightly over your ribs and thigh where he held you.

“Look at that,” Crocodile growled, reaching out to trace his cold hook along your calf and foot.

“The clown couldn’t even give his lady decent shoes. No wonder he couldn’t protect you, if he couldn’t even protect these pretty feet."

You twitched in Mihawk’s warm arms, trying not to react to the tickle of that dangerous hook.

“I think our little rabbit is feeling skittish today,” Mihawk judged, setting you in the middle of the couch. He sat beside you, trapping you between them again.

“You’d better get over that quick, sweetheart. I’m not known for my patience.”

Crocodile puffed his cigar as you tried to swallow your fear, nodding at his threat.

Your hands were clammy as you smoothed down your skirt, fighting and failing to keep the fabric from slipping down, revealing much of your thigh on Crocodile’s side.

You settled for folding your hands together in your lap, waiting for them to strike.

“What is it you need to complete your responsibilities?”

You drew your eyes to Mihawk at his question, feeling the sticky pressure of Crocodile's gaze on your thighs.

“I, um…”

Your mouth gaped open, still feeling trapped in a dream as his eyes raked over you.

You managed to hold in a whimper as Mihawk brought his long fingers up, taking your chin by the thumb, and lifting your face to his.

“Don’t be boring, darling. I know you want to be a good girl for us, don’t you?”

The tiny sound you made couldn’t have been a moan. I didn't...

But the way Mihawk’s jaw loosened to the side for a moment had your head spinning.

I need to get a hold of myself!

He released your chin, and you started to rattle off all the things you needed in order to do your job, including your own desk, and a transponder snail.

You felt like an idiot for hoping for your own space when a group of pirates dragged a large desk through the door, setting it up in the center of the massive room.

The cushions shifted as Crocodile stood, directing the pirates to ensure it was to his liking. To ensure that your desk was in perfect view of that stupid fucking couch.

Breakfast was served, and you had to choke it down, eye’s snagging on Buggy as you wondered when he’d eaten last.

“Break’s over.”

Gasping, you pressed your skirt down with your palms as your body was lifted off the couch by another wave of sand.

You landed in Crocodile’s arms, feeling so small against his chest. The silk of his vest rubbed along your skin, an abrupt contrast from the sand he’d just touched you with.

“Wha–”

“We need to protect our assets,” he growled, carrying you toward the desk. “Earn money for some decent shoes, otherwise you don’t get to stand on those dainty toes. Got it?”

You caught Mihawk’s eyes burning along your skin as Crocodile sat you down.

The scarred man leaned over you, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face while you tried to stay perfectly still.

“We’ve got the big announcement tonight. I wanna see your plans for the first month's finances before the show. Can you manage that, numbers girl?”

“Yes,” you choked out, anything to get him to move away from you.

He huffed a laugh, patting you on the back before leaving you to your work.

“Atta girl.”

How am I supposed to work like this?

Your new bosses talked with each other, gave orders to lackeys, smoked and drank, and watched you.

Workers were ordered to rearrange the furniture, adding two desks along opposite walls for their own use. A long coffee table was placed before the couch, and you were grateful that there wouldn’t be room for Buggy to be a footrest anymore.

But they wouldn’t let you use the transponder snail.

“Mr. Crocodile, sir, I will need to reach my contacts in order to manage your funds and investments. I can’t do everything from here–”

“Not yet.”

His voice was heavy, and final.

With a nod, you went back to it. Reviewing the current state of affairs was infuriating. They ordered lackeys around for you to round up missing details on assets, and anything they had brought to the island.

It looked bad.

A tinge of panic filled each breath, making your fingers shake as you shuffled papers around. You could feel a thin sheen of sweat, your flimsy top starting to stick to your skin.

You didn’t think your heart could take beating this fast for this long.

I’m okay. I’m good at what I do. Just pretend they’re not here.

They let you work. Fear that this was just another torture designed for your failure and punishment started to fade.

You would need that transponder snail soon to get any real work done, but you had your plans drafted up shortly after lunch.

“I’m finished, sir–”

Crocodile tutted at you as you moved to stand, using sand to push your chair forward until you were seated again.

Mihawk stalked toward you, fingers grazing yours as he took the documents from your hands. He perched on the corner of your desk, humming now and then as he judged your work.

“Well,” Crocodile asked from the couch, a large puff of smoke trailing toward the ceiling.

“The current status of finances is quite unfortunate. However the work is well done. It appears she will be needing a transponder snail soon if we’re going to see any improvement.”

Mihawk set the papers down and trapped you, his gaze from so close felt like a golden cage, keeping you in place.

Crocodile huffed a laugh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“Looks like you’ll be getting a snail before you get shoes then, huh?”

The rest of the afternoon had you sitting as still as you could, as if they wouldn’t notice you if you didn’t move.

You watched Cabaji crouch down, and start smearing greasepaint over Buggy’s bruises, propping his huge hat on his head. He leaned close then, and you wondered if he had anything to whisper to his old captain.

“Let’s get this over with,” Crocodile sighed, pulling Buggy to his feet, and shoving him toward the door.

“Galdino, I need you to carry miss Y/N during the announcement.”

“Wha-Why,” Galdino choked, looking from you to Crocodile, his face pinched.

“Don’t complain. I don’t trust Buggy’s men with her yet. This is the girl that’ll get us all paid, you got that?”

“Yes, Mr. Crocodile, sir.”

“And watch your hands,” he ordered, patting Mr. 3 on the back so hard that he coughed.

Humiliation flooded through you, your skin hot as you were carried through the hallway.

Mihawk and Crocodile dragged Buggy to the balcony, while you were brought to the front of the crowd to watch.

“I’m sorry,” you almost cried, not looking up at Galdino’s face.

“It’s fine,” he let out with a heavy sigh. “It's not your fault. Just my lot in life to always answer to people weaker than me, I suppose.”

You cringed, starting to apologize again.

“Come on, we don’t want to miss this farce.”

The shuffling conversations of Buggy’s subordinates quieted down as their captain took to the small stage. The balcony was lit with colorful lights from above and behind, and Buggy stretched out his limbs to look larger than life in that red fabric of his.

He looked like your Buggy now. Buggy in his element, shining bright. There was something about him that made people flock to his charm, that made people believe in him as a leader.

Until they saw behind the curtains, of course.

Buggy. How did you let yourself end up here? Now we’re both fucked.

You didn’t even hear his speech, your mind so used to ignoring the lies that Buggy would spew from that balcony.

Until he introduced his ‘executives.’

“First… Sir Crocodile!”

Buggy’s arm flourished, ever the showman, as Crocodile stepped into the light.

He was so incredibly tall. Seeing him towering over you on the balcony, with the light exaggerating his features, made you feel like an insect. Just crawling on the ground, waiting for him to stomp you into the dirt.

“And… Hawkeye Mihawk!”

Mihawk’s glare was like ice, and the stage lights glinting off of his massive sword just added to his cold disdain. You knew he could kill everyone in the room easily, and he looked like it wouldn’t mean a thing to him if he did.

Your jaw was clenching as you tried not to shiver in Galdino’s arms.

The cheering and stomping of the crowd was so intense, you reached your hands up to cover your ears.

But you saw them looking down on you, and you didn’t want to show them any more weakness than you already had.

Crocodile jerked his head, motioning for you to join them.

You gulped down some deep breaths as you were led back to your cage.

I won’t show them any more weakness.

Your bare feet were propped on the coffee table after dinner as you stared into your glass. The deep burgundy of the wine danced in the light as your hands shook slightly.

“This wine is different…”

Your eyes went wide at your own words, realizing that you’d just interrupted Mihawk, and you had no idea what they’d been talking about.

“Is that so,” he asked, the weight of his attention shifting to you. “How is it different?”

Crocodile shifted beside you as well, his knee touching yours as he tilted toward you, caging you once more.

“I… It’s not like the wine we’ve had here for a while. It’s almost… heavy?”

Mihawk’s head cocked to the side as he watched you stutter.

“Give me your glass.”

The command in his voice made your breath hitch. He set his own glass down, taking yours by the stem. He held it in front of you, gently swirling it.

“Observe the colors.”

Nodding, you kept your eyes on the wine, feeling almost hypnotized by the movement.

“Now, miss Y/N, you’re going to smell the aroma. I want you to close your eyes, and think of nothing else.”

Your eyes closed, but you gasped, jolting at his touch.

“Close your eyes. Think of nothing else.”

It was impossible. His fingers had grazed your skin, until they twisted into the hair at the nape of your neck.

He wasn’t holding tight, but he had you. He had complete control of you.

It was terrifying.

And yet you fought not to moan at the slightest movement, breath heavy as he tilted your head gently.

“Slow down, little rabbit,” he purred, voice so close. “Now smell the fragrance of the wine, and tell me what you feel.”

The scent felt overpowering, washing over you, sending chills over your skin.

“I think I smell… plums?”

Mihawk’s fingers untangled from your hair, only to rub along your neck and shoulders, gently kneading.

“Good, Y/N. Now keep your eyes closed. You’re going to take a sip, enough to cover that tongue of yours. But don’t swallow until you let the wine fill your mouth, touching every part. Can you do that for me?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, overwhelmed as his fingers stroked your hair, moving strands out of your face.

He brought the glass to your lips, touching your jaw as you tilted back.

You kept the wine in your mouth, feeling the tannins working around your tongue.

“Feel it, Y/N. Then tell me what you taste.”

You couldn’t remember feeling this overpowered by food or drink before. The sensations were so intense, the mix of flavors almost arousing as it burned through you.

Clearing your throat, you tried to express what you were feeling.

“Plums. And it’s thick, it almost feels chewy. It tastes amazing.”

A moment of silence had your heart rate spiking again.

His warm fingers touched your cheek, turning your face toward him.

“Open your eyes.”

Again, the pressure of command in his voice was heavy. You obeyed instantly, meeting his amber gaze as the swordsman inspected you, squeezing your cheeks just a little.

“Looks like there’s hope for you yet. I was afraid that the clown might have spoiled you, robbed you of any sense of refinement.”

Crocodile’s booming laughter shook the couch beside you.

“He does seem to ruin everything he touches. Don’t you, clown?”

Crocodile called toward the corner of the room where Buggy’s form still slumped against the wall.

He didn’t look as hurt as he had yesterday, but he looked hardly there, as if he was trying not to exist.

Guilt trickled through you again as your body still reeled from Mihawk's attention. Every new sip of wine you took felt like velvet, like his hands roaming your skin.

Fuck.

He kept his hand on your neck now, gently massaging as he and Crocodile resumed their conversation.

Frustrated tears almost fell, but you managed to blink them back.

“Numbers girl,” Crocodile breathed over you, bringing you back to the moment.

“Yes?”

“You’ll get your transponder snail tomorrow. You are only to use it with one of us present. And you must give details of who and why you are calling. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. I’d hate to have to show you what happens when people disobey me,” he rasped, setting his huge palm over your thigh. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Mihawk’s arms carried you through the hall. So much of your exposed thigh was touching his bare chest and abs, the feeling of skin on skin making you want to pull your hair out with how much it dominated your senses.

How much he dominated your senses.

You hoped that he hadn’t noticed the stain of need he’d caused, slick coating the inside of your thighs as you pressed them together.

Mihawk set you down on the edge of your bed, leaning over to tease his hot breath against your ear.

“Stay quiet tonight, little rabbit.”

Your eyes were wide as he pulled away, an evil little smirk on those lips that never smile. He touched your chin, before walking away. Closing the door, he trapped you alone with the heat burning in your core, and the shame dripping with sweat down your spine.

You whimpered quietly as you ached, and you wondered how long it would take for you to stop caring about who they are and what they’ve done.

This is only the second day they've been here, and I already want to beg them to touch me. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Your sister’s voice filled your mind, asking you the same thing when you left with Buggy.

Maybe there is something wrong with me? Maybe I crave dangerous men?

Your fingers trailed under your skirt. They slipped along the mess of your desire that had soaked past your panties. Mihawk had toyed with you, and your body ached for him, dripping with need. You brought your hand up to look at the thick strings of slick as you moved your fingers.

I’m sick. I hope this shit doesn’t get me killed.

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: If there is something wrong with reader, then I may have the same issue 😅

Part 4

304 notes · View notes

manicpixiefelix · 3 months

Text

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 8.

Summary: The fallout of arguing with Oliver, not fighting with Farleigh, Felix hooks up with your not-girlfriend, and so you provide comfort to his sort-of-ex.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: someone makes a move on the reader while they're very very drunk and the reader is far more sober, but it doesn't go past kissing, if that's something you're possibly concerned about.

A/N: 5424 words. welcome back. this one goes many different places in the span of one night. the farleigh of it all. the annabel of it all. im worried this one might feel OOC so id really like to hear if there's anywhere i could improve on my characterisation, what worked, what didn't?? as always unedited, and as we're nearing the end of the term (in the fic) we only have a few chapters left at oxford before we get to go to saltburn!! LOVE YOU ENJOY!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

"Didn't have to do that," Felix sighed from his desk, head bent low over his textbook. It's the first thing he'd said since Oliver left. You, still on his bed, picking through a textbook for a class you both share, found half-shoved under his bed, look up.

"Do what?"

"That thing with Michael What's-His-Name's file," it almost sounds like guilt in his voice, but he still isn't listening to you, "you could get in real trouble for having that."

In swift movements he stands, and you catch the sight of his scowl despite how he doesn't turn it upon you. Once again he's sitting on the floor, back to the foot of the bed, lighting up another cigarette, legs crossed in front of him.

"I'll put it back tomorrow." You're not used to Felix disapproving of you, it's a kind of discomfort you want to shake as quickly as you're able to. After a moment you add, "I know it's not really Ollie's fault, I shouldn't have -"

"I don't want to talk about Ollie right now." He's focused on balancing his ash tray on his knee, watching it with such intensity it's as if he's trying to define life's secrets from it.

"Should I go?" Murmured, almost like you're afraid of anyone hearing it, even Felix. It hangs, golden in the hazy heat of the afternoon.

"'m not the boss of you," Felix mumbles softly, head low, again his words coloured almost with guilt. You know he will never shake the quiet shame he sometimes is hit with when he remembers the way people often perceive the relationship you two share; too close, too loyal, too imbalanced.

But you've never cared; you will never treat him differently, never want for anything but his happiness, never beat the canine allegations. One day you hope you'll convince him that's okay.

So instead of leaving, you close the textbook and stretch yourself out across his bed, laying the on your belly with your head resting at the foot, by his. Your hand rests on his head, running your fingers through his hair.

Felix breathes out a lung full of smoke. He doesn't look at you. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes. The moment is a quiet one, tension thick and choking and full of things neither of you can talk about.

It's the strangest afternoon you share in a long while, one full of silence and the slow, mind numbing sound of pages being turned and the scratch of pen against paper.

"I'm gonna get ready to go out tonight," you say softly, finally breaking the silence when the courtyard outside is every shade of gold and orange in the sunset. Felix just hums in acknowledgement from his desk, "Fi?"

"Yeah," he huffs, dismissively, still looking at his notes. You've got the file in one hand, doing up the buttons of the shirt you'd forgone in the afternoon heat of his dorm room, but had to wear back to your own.

"You want me to text Oli?" You watch him grow tense at the name alone.

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know," he mumbles, almost forcibly nonchalant, despite the hard line of his shoulders that hadn't been there moments ago. Then, as if to clear the moment, he sits up straighter, turning to you in his desk chair with a look of determination in his eyes, "India still into me do you think?"

"I know India's still into you," you can't help but snort, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Would you be totally cut up if I -" he doesn't even need to finish before you're rolling your eyes.

"She'd be thrilled," but your smile softens a little, even as you shake your head with exasperation, "she's all yours, Fi."

Perhaps it's the fondness with which you acquiesces to his arguably selfish request that makes him take in the full exchange that had just passed. Felix takes a moment, tension and expression dropping as he turns pensive for a moment, unable to look you in the eyes. After a beat, you turn to the door, fully intending on letting the moment pass, but you hear Felix stand.

He doesn't say anything as he approaches you, still wearing that rather grim, thoughtful expression, but he wraps you up in a hug. He holds you as close as he's able, and after a beat of surprise, you gently drop the file to wrap your arms around him in return.

I love you. I'm sorry. All the tension from the afternoon drains away in this hug, in him pressed against you, leaning into you, breathing deep and even and steady. Pressing your face against his shoulder, you give him a brief kiss against his warm, golden skin, and hope he can feel your smile too.

The hug breaks, but still he holds your face for a long moment. He's smiling again. I love you. Thank you. He kisses your cheek quickly.

"I'll catch you at the King's Arms, yeah?"

"'course, Fi," you assure him with a warm smile of your own.

Back in your own dorm, that single moment of warmth unfortunately can't overwrite the entire afternoon of sickly tension. Looking at Oliver's name in your contacts, you frown. You should text him, invite him, Felix told him he would -

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know."

You don't text Oliver.

Annabel also isn't at the King's Arms that night. Of course you know why, the answer sits across from you with his arm around your not-girlfriend, but part of you still kind of feels bad for if the sweet redhead ever finds out.

"What are you sulking about?" Farleigh's smug voice in your ear, Farleigh's arm around your shoulder, Farleigh's cigarettes you keep stealing, Farleigh who you've tucked yourself up against for the night.

"'m not," you try insisting, frowning at the lighter that's clearly out of fluid and refusing to relight your cigarette. He gives your shoulder a squeeze.

"You sure, Peter Pan? Where's your shadow?"

"You don't give a shit about Oliver," you snap a little too quickly, both frustrated by the situation you're trying to ignore, and the useless lighter, but Farleigh reads right through it and practically cackles. Still, he wraps his other arm around you and squeezes you against his side with glee, even as you try to protest.

"Ooh~" Farleigh teases, poking your side with a wide, fond smile, "trouble in pauper's paradise?"

"That's fucking mean," you rib him none too gently, but he actually snorts with laughter. The lighter still won't bloody well start.

"I feel like you're fucking edging me with that lighter, fuck," Benji, from Farleigh's other side, smacks your lighter out of your hands and holds out his perfectly working one.

"Thank you, Benny, that was pissing me off," Farleigh says with a satisfied smile, his laughter having died down. You, finally take a draught on your cigarette, grateful for the warmth, and the nicotine as it hits.

"Could kiss you, Benj," you finally let yourself smile, "someone remind me to get a new lighter," you add, leaning across Farleigh without hesitation to plant a kiss squarely on Benji's lips after he'd wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, teasingly at you at your comment.

"We'd fascinate psychologists," Farleigh chuckled, but his voice is warm and fond, and Benji turns back to his conversation with Alicia and Jake on his other side once the moment had passed.

"Probably," comes out distracted, however as your teasing mood drops and you look to your phone. Should I have called Oliver? But when you look up, across the table, you see warmth and fondness in the way Felix looks at India, enraptured by whatever story she's telling. With one arm around her shoulders, he lets her distractedly play with his other hand, leaning into her, all attention on her. Making her feel like the centre of the universe, the way only Felix knows how to do. India glows in a way you've never seen before, lighting up under his direct affection, beautiful and elated, maybe even a little bit flustered.

There's not even a hint of jealousy at the sight of them. All you know is how much you love your friends, and how happy and beautiful they look together in this moment. There is contentment, satisfaction, like a job well done... Farleigh might have a point about the psychologists.

Speaking of - Farleigh grabs your chin and tilts your face to look at him. Immediately you smack his hand away.

"Stop that! What is that? What are you doing?" You squawk at him immediately. Again, he grabs your chin, frowning, intent upon gazing intensely into your eyes. This time you let him.

"I'm figuring out what this is," he mutters like he's deep in thought. You let your gaze roam for a moment, hoping he gets whatever this is out of his system. You wiggle your chin in his grip, and it's enough to prompt more of an explanation, "if you're not sulking, then I don't know this -" rolling your eyes, you smack his hand away.

"Fuck man, I'm not sulking," you insist, remembering your cigarette and taking another puff, glad it hadn't gone out.

"You've been weird lately; angry - ranting," Farleigh made sure to stick to your cover story despite having seen through it the minute you'd tried out the other week, "you and Felix have had some weird vibes," he takes the cigarette from you, and you settle yourself against him further.

"Fi and I always have weird vibes," you pointed out with a little smirk, keeping your voice as low as he was, glad he didn't feel the need to publicise this discussion too broadly. Farleigh snorted, but shook his head.

"You, sure," Farleigh conceded, handing back the cigarette, "but," he leans in, leans into your with a knowing, dangerously sharp smile, his hand coming to rest on your thigh, "Felix has been weird about you," his voice slides along the word weird as his hand slides up your thigh, as if to prove a point, before sitting back. Giving you a moment to recover, Farleigh sits back up like nothing happened, letting go of your thigh and taking a drink. He gives you a squeeze, arm still around your shoulders, "or hadn't you noticed?" Back at regular conversation levels like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Across the circle of your friend group, Felix's gaze momentarily flicks to you as India's in the middle of some kind of enthusiastically rambling. Gaze briefly passing to Farleigh, he then looks back and raises an amused eyebrow in silent question. The smile you give him is instinctive and warm, a silent answer. He mirrors the smile for the briefest moment before his attention returns to India.

Of course you'd noticed the change.

"Of course I've noticed." Your gaze dips; you become fascinated with your drink for the moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever comment you knew Farleigh had coming.

"Surprised he hadn't put you on a leash."

You elbow him hard in the ribs. He retaliates by flicking you repeatedly in the forehead. Its a blurry mess of frustration and elbows after that, pulling hair and wet fingers in ears and trying to sink nails into each other's soft sides, all squabbling and cursing and insults not made for polite society.

"- you put your fingers near my mouth I'll bite them off!" You holler even when he's got his arm around your neck in a kind of choke hold, which is around the time the two of you are pulled away from each other.

The rest of the table is staring at you both, while you and Farleigh straighten yourselves up, a little flustered at the many incredulous stares you were getting.

"The fuck was that about?" Felix, of course, is the one to voice the question the others all had. You look to Farleigh, his expression mirroring yours; no malice, no frustration, like nothing had happened.

"Bit of horseplay," you shrugged easily, meeting Felix's eyes, tone bright and chipper. He looked unconvinced.

"Just two dudes being guys," Farleigh's tone was light and breezy as he settled back into the booth, and you alongside him, letting him once more sling an arm around your shoulders.

"Guys bein' pals," you agreed with a nod. Farleigh pats your head for emphasis. The group thankfully decides that they've had enough of the weird moment to go back to their own conversations. Felix was the last to focus back on the conversation he'd been having with India and Alicia, narrowing his eyes as he looked between you and Farleigh.

Before turning his attention entirely away, his gaze fixes on you. There, in the very slight tilt of his head, the look in his eyes, the way his jaw tightens, you see his concern for you. You lean your head back on Farleigh's shoulder and let yourself relax, let yourself give him a genuine, reassuring smile. It's enough.

Farleigh clears his throat.

"It was either that or tell him you said that," you explained under your breath, to which Farleigh nodded in understanding, hand running up and down your shoulder idly as he reached across the table for the communal fries, bringing the basket closer to you both.

"And you don't want to tell him because you know I'm right," Farleigh is back to smug, but at least this time you can join him in his amusement.

"No, but I'm humouring you because I'd like to talk about how good I'd look in a collar," picking up a chip, you eat it with a grin as Farleigh rolls his eyes. After a moment, however, he comes back with this contemplative look, still amused, but eyes narrowed and searching like they had been earlier. You eat another chip and tell him to put his eyeballs back in his head, "seriously, quit looking at me like that, Farleigh -"

"He has been weird-weird," Farleigh says like he's agreeing, though you tell him you have no idea what the fuck he means. Taking a deep breath like he was ramping up to something, Farleigh looks across the group to Felix, before looking back at you with a kind of put-upon smile, "I say this only as someone who's know you for like, more of my life than I'd like to admit -"

"I love you too, go on."

"- so I kind of think that it might not look that different to anyone else, like they don't know it's not your usual brand of weirdness," he wets his lips, giving you a look like he's not even sure if he's meant to be saying this, like he might be letting you in on a secret you're not supposed to know, "he's been really hot and cold with you."

Of course you'd noticed.

"I slept with Oliver."

Beside you, Farleigh appears to go through all five stages of grief at once.

"You make it very hard to be friends with you sometimes," he says, shaking his head. You, however, are focusing on how many chips you can eat in a rush rather than think too much about the topic at hand.

"That mean," you tell him flatly, mouth full of potatoes, "you're being mean again."

"You chose to sleep with Oliver, that is a choice you made; I'm gonna be mean about it, you've earned it, you know you have -"

"Remember," you gave him a shit-eating grin, "how the next time we went drinking after that costume party, you spent a full half hour in the beer garden ranting about how stupid you thought Ollie's costume was," you ate another chip while Farleigh narrowed his eyes at you with barely concealed contempt, but you powered on, "and it turned out that you thought the costume didn't do him justice, which then -" your grin grew wider, "became you ranting about how his eyes are too blue, and why does he dress like that when we can all see his arms, imagine if he wore a shirt that fit!" You gleefully recounted, even as Farleigh's mouth flattened into a thin line, like he's bitten on a lemon, but he couldn't look you in the eyes.

"Hey, that's not what I -"

"And then -!" You spoke over him, "you forgot where you were and tried to take an angry nap in the bushes."

"I don't -" a flustered Farleigh squirms for a moment in his seat, unable to look at you, "remember that, and," he turned a faux serious look upon you, "if you tell anyone I said that, I'll tell them you're lying."

"I'm just saying," you shrugged, "don't act like you don't know part of the reason why I slept with him."

"Fine," Farleigh rolled his eyes, allowing his flustered frustration to ease. After a moment of contemplation, of watching Felix, he hums quietly, thoughtfully, "that can't be it, right?"

"What can't be it?"

"If Felix was going to start being jealous it wouldn't be over Oliver."

"See, that's what I thought."

"So he is jealous?"

"I don't know," you say quietly, still not quite sure how to feel about it; Felix had taken the news fine when you'd told him, he hadn't seemed any different, but of course there'd been a change. Why now?

"That's really stupid of him," Farleigh finally says, dismissively.

"It is, isn't it?" As you try and laugh, your heart's not in it. You look at your phone again, another wave of that strange discomfort that you'd been feeling lately washing over you again. You can't stay.

Everyone's surprised by your early departure as you say your goodbyes. You cite the need to study hard tomorrow, giving hugs and kisses as you start the short journey back to your dorm. Felix murmurs that he loves you and a cheeky thanks in your ear and you know he's talking about India. You kiss his cheek, and then you head off.

Nothing had seemed off when you'd told Felix.

"You look like you're about to burst into song; what happened to you?"

"Something happened!"

"Am I meant to guess?"

"No, no- I mean, like how nothing happened between me and Ollie a few months ago; something happened!"

"Something happened between you and Ollie?"

"The something that didn't happen last time -"

"I don't remember last time, Y/N, you're being so cryptic, I love that you're excited but -"

"Yes, Ollie and I slept together. Finally!"

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"No, good 'oh', promise!"

"Didn't sound like a good 'oh', Fi; is everything alright?"

"Yeah, of course, sorry Y/N, I promise, I'm just... I don't remember you being this excited about a hook up... and I don't think I was excepting it to be Ollie, you know? Was he really that good?"

"Let me put it this way, it was the kind of good that none of our other friends would believe if I told them."

"Fancy that, Ollie knows what he's doing; good for you."

"Great for me."

It wasn't particularly vulgar or explicit, you'd had far more in depth conversations about your various hook ups, Felix had seemed as happy for you as he always did with these kinds of stories. But he'd started looking at Oliver different, you'd noticed it. That too is when he became the clingiest. Farleigh was right; on nights out with Oliver around, Felix threw out any pretence of subtlety or person space. Felix acted like your boyfriend.

But then, any other night, any other group situation, it was like any other day. Sometimes he'd barely even glance at you. Hot and cold.

You're so in your head on the walk home that you barely register someone sitting at your door until you all but trip over them.

Annabel.

She'd been crying.

"Fuck you." Is how she greets you.

"What are you doing here?" A twinge of pity, a twinge of guilt, to see her obviously distraught at your doorstep. She gets unsteadily to her feet, swearing at you again. Reaching out to steady her, she surprises you by lunging at you, grabbing you.

"You were there, weren't you? With the rest of them," Annabel's gripping your collar, makeup smeared with tears and eyes red-rimmed, "with him," lips still inches from yours, her gaze unfocused but searching, "I can fucking smell it on you- you- you and rich boy-" but she stops for a moment, expression falling to confusion, "Farleigh?"

"Annabel -" you ease her hands off of your collar, partly confused, but mostly pitying.

"Why do you smell like Farleigh?" She sounds almost like a lost child, refusing to let go of your hand as you pulled out your keys. God she looks so helpless, tears still welling in her eyes, vodka bottle mostly empty by her feet.

"Why are you so good at telling what Farleigh smells like?" You countered with, swinging the door open. At this, some of the righteous indignation fires up in her again, flouncing into your room.

"You all went to the same boarding school, you've all got these same habits, and same but different scents you cling to," she's scowling at your dresser as you picked up the vodka bottle and brought it into your room, shutting your door. You watch her for a long moment, see how she analyses everything you have there, perfumes, colognes, makeup, skin care, little bits of paper rubbish - she picks up a bottle and flicks off the lid, not caring where it landed amongst the rest of the things there. When she sprays it, she seems to almost relax amongst it's mist. Of course. It's Felix's favourite, Felix's scent as she'd so aptly described it, for when he'd spend the night.

"Of course you have his too," she says faintly, almost derisively.

Allowing your attention to finally drift from her, you start getting ready for bed, heading to your closet to hang up your jacket.

"You all need to mark your territory," she spits, out of your peripheries, you see her move away from your dresser and pick up her vodka again, "need everyone to know who you own, who we all belong to -"

"Anna, that's not -" you sighed, unsure of where any of this was going, but not liking it either way. As you search your drawers for pyjamas, you felt her gentle hands on your hips. Jumping at the sudden touch, when you spin she braces herself against the drawers with hands either side of you, while your hands become trapped, the last bit of resistance between her chest and yours.

"I smelled like you both for weeks," she murmurs, gaze roaming your body, almost hungry, landing back on your lips, "you remember that? I should- I should- should have been fucking sickened," she admits, voice a low whisper, the hunger turning needy, turning into almost a whimper, "the things I want you both to do to me make me sick to my stomach," her lips inch closer to yours, shared breath, heat in the air, "of course I know what the fuck you all choose to smell like, I can't get it out of my fucking head," you should lean away but there's something intoxicating about her rage, her desperation, her desire, "Our Annabel, that's what he'd called me, what you'd -" and she kisses you, vodka still wicked and bitter on her tongue, all but panting into your mouth as her hands find your hips again.

But it can't continue, you can't let this go on. As you lean back to free your arms, to hold her back, she takes advantage of the opportunity to slide her hands beneath your shirt, cold and nimble against your belly -

"Could've been my Felix -" she mumbles, as if in a trance, eyes hazy and full of both tears, like she was looking into a memory. The minute her fingers find your fly you grab her hands firmly. It takes you a moment to regain your composure, to remind yourself that she wasn't in her right state of mind, that she probably didn't even know what she was doing or saying -

My Felix flares bright and hot and possessive in your mind. My Felix.

"Ow," Annabel's noise of pain brings you back to reality, but thankfully it seems the shock to her system brought her back too. Looking down at your vice-like grip on her wrists, she looks back at you as you let her go, embarrassment in her eyes as she perhaps realises some of what she'd been doing.

"I'm not sleeping with you tonight, Anna," still, your voice is gentle. She huffs an embarrassed little laugh, starting to sniffle again. Again, you remind yourself that this poor girl just got her heart broken by your best friend, and decided to deal with that by drinking an entire bottle of vodka. You'd committed to showing her some compassion tonight.

"I know." The tension drops, and she just leans her head forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder. You can't help but hug her, feeling the heavy way she sighs as you're giving her a reassuring pat on the back. The two of you stay like that for a very long few minutes until you hear her start crying again.

"Do you wanna borrow some pyjamas?" You ask softly, and feel her nod.

The rest of the night is quiet after that, taking care of this distraught young woman who got her heart broken by your best friend. It reminds you of nights you'd spend with Venetia back at Saltburn.

Annabel sits on your bathroom counter patiently, ankles crossed, watching the way you focus as you wipe off her makeup with meticulous care. When you take off her necklace, you coil it delicately on top of the nice clothes she'd been wearing, now sitting on top of her shoes by your door. At first she tries to wave you off when you offer to brush out her hair -

"There's -" she hiccups; the full bottle of vodka has finally hit her, but still she tries to shake her head, "too much hairspray, it'll be a hassle -"

"I'll be gentle," you told her softly, assurance in your eyes and a warm smile on your lips, "if you'll let me." Annabel melts under that gaze, sitting in borrowed pyjamas, face clean, cross-legged on your bed in the lamp light. You treat her with the gentlest care, brushing out her hair while you can still hear her occasional sniffles; she sits as primly as she's able, only apologising once at the start for it's length. You assured her it's fine.

"You scare me sometimes," Annabel mutters into the quiet, voice watery. For a moment, you pause.

"Me?"

"Both- both of you. You and Felix," she sniffles again, "and Farleigh too now, I guess," you can tell she swallows thickly, voice catching in her throat. When she tries to dip her head, she can feel the way you're still holding gently, still working, and she apologises faintly. Carefully, quietly, giving her space to organise her tipsy, upset thoughts, you continue to brush out her hair.

"Never met anyone like you, you know? Didn't think people like you guys existed. You're always everything; the most without even trying," she takes a deep breath, but it's undercut by a faint sob that's almost a chuckle, "I kind of think you don't even know what I mean- you especially, you know?" You... don't.

You brush, only giving a faint apology, but all she does is fidget, the words spilling unrehearsed from her, things she's clearly been bottling for far too long -

"Felix is everything everyone wants, and you're everything everyone wants him to be," she says it so forlornly, "the sun and it's fucking warmth," then, almost disgusted as she spits it under her breath, "I think about how he's never going to fuck me the way he looks at you while he's shitfaced, how sick is that?"

With a few more strokes her hair is brushed out, and without even thinking you start to braid it. Annabel's dissolved into tears again, her face in her hands, but you're just careful not to tug on her hair too hard as her whole body shakes with them.

"He never gave a proper shit about me, did he?" Annabel sobs as you're tying off the braid. The minute it's done, she turns and throws herself into your arms, sobbing against your chest, "I'm just another fucking girl to him!"

"He still loves you as a friend, I'm sure; you know how Fi is-" you pet her shoulder carefully as she clutches your shirt for dear life.

"I don't wanna be his fucking friend! I gave him my fucking heart and now he's probably got his dick in that slag India, who said she was my friend!" Spitting her words with fury, with venom, she looks up, but only sees a look of pitying apology in your eyes; she's probably right. Lip curling, she throws herself back on your bed, hands covering her face once more, "he doesn't fucking care," she groaned, fury turning poisonous with resignation, "I know he doesn't care; if I thought he truly cared I would have fucked Oliver -"

"What?"

"- Felix is so fucking fickle, god, seems like he doesn't even care about Oliver anymore, I should have- should have -" she continues on, but breaks down crying again. Getting off the bed, you leave for the common room for half a moment, filling it with water.

"Drink this," you instruct, sitting next to Annabel on the edge of the bed. She scowls, but follows your orders easily, even if she can't properly look you in the eye. The water seemed to have at least helped, as her crying quiets down as you refill the glass in your bathroom sink.

"I feel like shit," she mumbles, watching you come back into the room and place the cup on her bedside.

"Well you look pretty," you tell her teasingly, trying to lighten the mood even a little as you gently pinched her cheek. She does not appear to find the humour in the moment. Still, you turn off your lamp and climb over her into the bed, "please don't throw up in my bed or on my floor."

"I know where your bathroom is."

The two of you kick off the neat duvet but pull the thin, luxurious sheet over you both.

"Thank you..." it sounds begrudging as she says it. You tell her it's no stress, sitting up for a moment in order to open your window a crack, let a breeze in overnight, but still hear her when she says, "you're a bad friend."

Still sitting, you take a deep breath, sighing as a silhouette in the moonlight.

Annabel is more astute than you possibly gave her credit for in this state; amongst all her felt injustices, she'd never once asked about how you felt about Felix fucking India, your well established not-girlfriend. Because somehow she knew, perhaps even that you gave your blessing. You'd never been a cruel person as long as you could help it, but you'd made peace with your priorities too long ago to start apologising for them now. So yes, you'd taken Annabel in for the night, but she knew in her heart that you were partially at fault for her despair in the first place. You both knew.

Enabling Felix was never really about making anyone else happy.

"I know."

Something about your admission seems to be enough for Annabel, however. When you lay back down beside her, she curls up against you, tucks herself all along your side, arm around you, head on your chest.

The next morning, Annabel moves silently around your dorm. When you wake up, all that's even left of her presence is the empty cup of water on your bedside. No kind of note, no text, she'd made sure she didn't even wake you before leaving.

Fucking Christ, what a bloody week did yesterday feel like, is all you can think as the mid-morning sun slashes through your barely parted curtains and paints your chest with light.

You consider sleeping in, consider that you'd definitely earned it after yesterday, but then your phone starts ringing. It's Felix. He sounds grim.

"Hey, can you get over here? We need you."

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #felix catton x y/n #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #felix catton x you #felix catton x you x oliver quick #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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coryoskywalker · 5 months

Text

was it over? (Young! Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

Description: was their relationship really over?

Warnings!! Coriolanus being a manipulative bitch. He’s also obsessed with y/n but he won’t admit it obviously *insert eye roll* :)

Also I didn’t proofread this…like…at all…

"I know it's difficult, y/n." Coriolanus stated solemnly, a heavy weight settling in his stomach at the thought of what he was about to say.

They had been sitting together quietly in the meadow, the gentle buzz of insects filling the air as the light of the afternoon bathed the forest in a warm, golden glow. The atmosphere was calm and serene, making it all the more jarring for Coriolanus to bring up such a delicate subject.

"What's difficult?" y/n inquired curiously, turning to face him. Her tone was light, but her smile was tinged with concern.

"Us." Coriolanus replied simply, the one word hanging heavy in the air between them. The tension rose as y/n remained silent, her gaze shifting away as she struggled to find the right words.

"What do you mean?" y/n finally asked softly, her heart already knowing the answer. Her voice had grown hoarse as she tried desperately not to show the hurt she was feeling.

At first, Coriolanus's expression remained unchanged, but as y/n watched more closely, she saw a slight downturn of his lips, the smallest of sighs escaping his lips.

"We're not working out." Coriolanus finally spoke, the words tearing the silence in twain like a knife. Y/n's heart shattered at the sound of them, her breath catching in her throat as a wave of disbelief washed over her. Could this really be happening? Did her relationship with Coriolanus mean so little to him that he was willing to throw it away like this?

"What do you mean, we're not working out?!" y/n finally exclaimed, her voice breaking as her emotions ran high.

"I need to be honest with you, y/n." Coriolanus began, his voice as steady as the ground beneath her feet. Y/n felt her heart sink as she looked up at him, already knowing what he was about to say, yet praying for a miracle.

"There's someone else." Coriolanus continued, an expression of guilt and sadness crossing his face. Y/n wanted to sink into the earth, the pain she felt at those words threatening to break her.

Y/n wanted to argue with him, to convince him that she could be everything he needed and more. But as she stared at the grief and uncertainty in his eyes, she knew that he wouldn't be swayed.

"Please, Coriolanus..." y/n whispered, the words catching in her throat as her eyes welled with tears. "I'm sorry for not being enough for you. I tried so hard to be the girl you needed. How long have you been hiding this from me?" Her voice was desperate, her heart torn at the thought of losing him.

"For a while," Coriolanus admitted quietly, his voice so low that y/n barely heard him. "But you kept trying so hard, and I liked the attention you gave me. But then one day, I met someone else. And they changed the way I saw you."

Y/n couldn't help but feel her heart break as she took in Coriolanus's confession. She'd always known that he would get bored of her eventually, but the reality was different than the fantasy she'd created. Her cheeks felt hot with shame as tears began to fall.

Coriolanus looked up at her with a look of pity, a silent apology on his expression as he placed his hand gently on her knee.

"I'm sorry, y/n." He whispered, unable to hide his own disappointment in himself. "I should have told you sooner. But I still care for you...just not in the same way."

Y/n's stomach twisted as she heard the truth spill out of his mouth. She wanted to protest, to beg Coriolanus to reconsider, but the truth was there between their words, making her feel as small as an insect.

"We can still be friends." Coriolanus offered weakly, his body tense as the weight of their conversation settled across his shoulders.

To y/n, the suggestion of friendship was more painful than the reality of their break-up. It was worse to know that the love she felt for him now meant nothing to him. The thought of seeing him with another girl was unbearable.

"I can't." She whispered softly, her voice breaking slightly as her face flooded with pain. "I can never see you the same way."

Coriolanus slowly nodded, his expression sad but understanding.

"But...but I love you." y/n breathed, her breath catching in her throat as tears began to fall. This couldn't be real. She was having a nightmare, and she was about to wake up any second now. She had to be, because the thought of her life without Coriolanus was unimaginable.

"I'm sorry." He murmured quietly, running his fingers through his hair as if to clear his mind. His eyes were downcast, avoiding hers. "But I can't love you the way you want me to."

Coriolanus slowly stood to his feet, still unable to meet y/n's gaze. His footsteps were heavy as he walked away from her, the sound of his sandals sinking into the soft grass.

Y/n watched him leave, unable to react, her thoughts consumed with a hollow sadness that left her feeling hollow inside. She wanted to beg him to stay, to reassure her that he was making a mistake, but no words would leave her mouth. She could only sit in stunned silence as her heart shattered into a million pieces.

As Coriolanus disappeared into the distance, y/n was left alone with her pain, the sounds of her weeping drowned out by the birdsong and rustle of leaves. The sunlight filtering through the trees was no longer pleasant, but rather felt like a spotlight on her misery.

The sun began to set, and y/n realized she had been sitting in the meadow for hours, numb to everything around her like a zombie without a soul. It was only as darkness began to settle that she slowly forced her legs to move, to walk away from the place where her heart broke forever.

——————————————————————————-

Y/n sat in front of the television, trying to distract herself with the news broadcast. For months, she had been unable to get Coriolanus Snow out of her mind, and now seeing him on television every day was like a cruel reminder of the hole that had been left in her heart.

"Breaking news..." The newscaster began, her voice puncturing the silence of the living room. y/n felt her heart start to pound as she knew the next sentence would confirm all of her suspicions. "President Coriolanus Snow...reportedly engaged to-"

"...to the daughter of Panem political figure-" The newscaster's voice continued, but y/n couldn't listen any longer. She couldn't care less about the political landscape of the country or what family Coriolanus was marrying into. She knew it was pointless to continue pining after Coriolanus, but seeing the evidence of his imminent marriage was like stabbing her heart all over again.

Tears sprang to y/n's eyes, but she was unaware of her own sobs. All she could focus on was the pain of the breakup, the hurt of seeing Coriolanus move on without her.

Y/n tried to push away the emotions welling within her as the words flashed on the TV screen: "Wedding date confirmed." Her hand rose to her heart as if to clutch something inside of her that was slipping away. What had she done to deserve such heartbreak? She had loved Coriolanus since they met, and yet he had never been hers.

She wanted to be angry, to blame him for leading her on and making her think they could be together, but she could never hate him. Instead, y/n was left with only sadness, her heart broken beyond repair.

Y/n looked up as loud knocking sounded at her front door. She tried to ignore it, to pretend that she didn't hear it and continue with her day, but the banging became louder, more persistent, refusing to let her sit in her grief.

Eventually, she forced herself to her feet and crossed the room to answer the door, wondering who would be coming by at this time of night. She froze as she saw Coriolanus Snow standing on her doorstep, his expression solemn and his eyes set with determination.

Y/n felt her head spin as she opened the door. Coriolanus stood there, his face pale and his eyes pleading with her. What did he want from her now? She had already experienced too much pain at his hands, and wasn't eager to endure this again.

"I never stopped loving you." He whispered, his voice quivering as he forced the words out. "Please, y/n...I know I should've said something sooner, but I couldn't keep living a lie. I don't want anyone else. I only want you."

Y/n couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was it really possible that Coriolanus hadn't fallen out of love with her? Surely he couldn't give her hope only to take it back again.

"I don't believe you." She whispered, her eyes searching his as if to uncover his true intentions.

"I mean it." Coriolanus insisted, taking a step towards her. "I've never stopped loving you, y/n. I've never wanted anyone else." His words were like music to her ears, but she still couldn't be sure if she could trust them.

"Then how could you let me believe you were marrying someone else?" Y/n inquired softly, her eyes filling with tears. "How could you make me feel so...so abandoned."

Coriolanus looked away, unable to meet her eye. "I know it was wrong, y/n...but I couldn't bear to see the pain on your face when I told you." She couldn't understand his reasoning, but when he reached out for her hand and pulled her into an embrace, y/n didn't even try to resist.

Coriolanus wrapped his arms around y/n, holding her against his chest as she melted into his embrace. In that moment, she felt safe and wanted, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she belonged.

"I'm sorry..." Coriolanus whispered into her ear. "I know I hurt you, but I'll make it up to you, I swear."

She didn't know how long they stayed in that embrace, but eventually, reality crept back in and y/n pulled away from him. "What about your wedding?" She whispered, her gaze falling to his hand.

Coriolanus looked at her hand, then back to y/n. "I canceled it." He confirmed with a small smile. "I don't need anything else, just you."

Y/n's eyes flickered with surprise, followed by relief. Was it really that simple? Was Coriolanus saying all of the right things, only to abandon her again?

"Is that why you're here? You don't want to get married anymore?" She asked, wanting to be sure that she understood him clearly before she let her heart believe him.

Coriolanus sighed as he studied her face, his expression turning cunning and calculating. "Y/n," he began slowly, "you and I both know that our love isn't meant to be. I know you want one thing, but I want something else."

"I want you to love me unconditionally," Coriolanus continued, a strange glint in his eye. "To love me above all others, and to always put my needs above yours. No questions asked." Coriolanus sighed as he studied her face, his expression turning cunning and calculating.

Y/n froze, her mind racing. What did Coriolanus mean by that? Did he not love her after all?

"But...but that's not how love works." Y/n replied weakly, her voice cracking under the weight of Coriolanus's words. He stepped closer to her, until their faces were only inches apart. His eyes remained focused on her, their intensity making her feel like she was under his spell.

"You're wrong." He whispered. "A true love gives everything, without question. Only then can one call themselves lovers." Y/n felt her heart flutter as Coriolanus spoke, his voice making her toes tingle and her stomach feel hollow.

Y/n couldn't say anything, her body too consumed by Coriolanus's words and the spell that he was weaving. She wanted to say no, to resist him, but all she could manage to do was silently stare at him, a flush of heat rising across her cheeks.

"Don't you love me?" Coriolanus whispered, his voice dripping with seduction and intrigue as he tilted his head to the side curiously.

"Yes..." She breathed quietly, the word coming out almost as a whisper, her heart fluttering in her chest.

"You belong to me." Coriolanus murmured, his eyes never straying from hers. Y/n felt her breath catch in her throat as his words sunk in, and she felt herself fall into him.

She loved him, she belonged to him, and there was nothing that could change that. Nothing mattered in that moment except Coriolanus and the feelings that he was stirring in her heart. With shaking hands and trembling lips, she gave herself to him, knowing that he would never leave her again.

Y/n gave Coriolanus everything, holding nothing back as she gave herself to him fully. He took her body like it was his right, his hands exploring and claiming her in ways that left her mind reeling with the intensity of the moment. She wanted to hate him for taking advantage of her, for turning her love and devotion into something twisted and controlling. But all she could focus on was Coriolanus and the way his bright eyes burned into hers, his words hypnotizing her to obey his every command.

#Spotify #coriolanus snow x reader #tbosbas #the hunger games #young!coriolanus snow #tom blyth x reader

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broomsick · 5 months

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any tips for starting out when working with deities?

Hi, friend! Thank you for the ask, and sorry for the late reply. I've posted tips for beginners many times in the past, most of which you can find via links in this post. But now, since we're talking about working with deities more specifically, I'll list a few quick tips in a point form!

The golden rule to deity work, in my opinion, is respect. Everyone interacts with their deities with varying amounts of familiarity, but one quality always remains no matter the worshipper, and that is respect. But that goes without saying, right? 'Treat others how you want to be treated' makes no exceptions, even with non-human entities.

To me, the first step to respecting a deity is acknowledging their depth and multi-faceted nature. Mythological sources may describe this or that deity as the 'God of this or that', but in the context of religion, they are much more. The believer views the God as more than a mythological figure, but as a complex existing being.

For this reason, another tip I'll give is to get to know them. Learn as much as you can about them, and never stop learning. Not only about the deity/deities themselves, but also (and I think it's crucial not to neglect this!) about the cultural context in which they were first worshipped. I can't stress enough how big of a difference this makes when it comes to understanding a God. If you're interested, I've linked here a few of my favorite sources pertaining to nordic cultures, religions and history!

To me, offerings are not transactional. That is just my own belief, of course, but I don't adhere to the idea that 'one must give to the Gods in order to earn blessings and vice versa'. Paganism is not a trade market, but rather a way to experience spirituality. I believe in making offerings when you can, if you can, as a gesture of gratitude and not as a way to somehow 'earn blessings'. As a pagan, you do not "owe" anything to the Gods they do not "owe" you anything either.

Do not be afraid to simply spend time with them. While we may not always feel their presence, you can have faith in the fact that they watch over you. And for this reason, it's perfectly okay for you to sit down at your altar, or in the outdoors, to simply talk to them, symbolically sharing a drink/meal, telling them of your troubles or of how they inspire you. Developing this habit can help make you feel connected to a deity, even on a tight schedule, or during times when you feel disconnected from your spirituality.

In the same vein, it can be fulfilling and fun for you to dedicate certain activities to a deity of your choice! For example, practicing your instrument in honor of Bragi, or hiking in honor of Jörð, etc... What's more, whenever you dedicate an activity to a deity, you can invite them to partake in it, as I've described in this previous post!

Start to notice what things in your life reminds you of them. Maybe a certain smell? Or a song? What animals, meals, stories of else bring this deity to mind? Either because of the similar feeling they instill in you, or because you think this or that deity might enjoy them.

As a beginner, you needn't feel bad about how many deities you work with, or which deities you reach out to (so long as they are not part of a closed practice). I've always thought it weird how in some books centered around witchcraft, they'll rank deities in order of 'how experienced you need to be to reach out to them'. If you want my own honest opinion, anyone is free to reach out to any deity. No God is more difficult to work with than others. It all comes down to the individual, their values and the way they choose to work with the deity in question. I'm also not a big fan of such sources encouraging calling out to a deity during a ritual/spell like they're a tool for a magical working, if the practionner doesn't plan to really get to know them. But that's a topic for another day.

It can be greatly fulfilling as well to simply ponder a deity from time to time. What do they teach you? What can you learn from their example? What do they represent in your life? I listed in this post a few ideas of questions to ask yourself in order to better understand a deity and their presence in your life.

Take it step by step, day by day, and don't feel bad if you think you've made a mistake. We are all constantly learning. The Gods know we are human, and they reflect us in that way: they themselves have their strengths and weaknesses.

I hope this helps, but please do keep in mind that these are all my personal views on paganism, and that not every practionner will resonate with them. In any case, don't hesitate to ask if you have any other question(s) regarding practice or belief in the nordic path. Have a good day, my friend.

#personal #ask #asks #norse paganism #heathenry #spirituality #norse gods #paganism #polytheism #deity work #deities #norse polytheism

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hellsite-testing-ground · 8 months

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TL;DR: the bee movie

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schneiderenjoyer · 1 month

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My Descent Into Madness About Unilogs

This is more of a full blown conspiracy theory than a theoretical analysis of information, keep that in mind.

So, as always, this will be VERY long and ramble-y so take your time reading!

I left off in my discussion about The Wheel's connection to the Storm and it being the possible key to how it all works without really explaining it. This is why.

The Wheel doesn't just have the ability to create fog that repels the Storm within the suitcase, but also has the ability to summon arcanists.

Through a two dimensional golden thread weaved onto the spindle, it can't be felt tangibly and it doesn't seem to truly "exist" in that realm. But with enough of these "nonexistent lines" can Vertin call out to an arcanist and bring them there.

Specifically any arcanist of any timeline. Regardless of if they've ever been reverse into that era yet.

As well as the implication of summoning an arcanist not just from their timeline, but from another universe's timeline.

Now, I'm about to pitch you the conspiracy theory part of the essay, so entertain my insane ramblings for a bit because this is gonna be one of my hottest takes known to man.

Sonetto didn't survive the Storm in the prologue.

Here's my reason why I consider this a possibility:

We barely knew Sonetto's personality in the prologue, so it'd be easy to do this switch compared to doing it at a later date. But what we can glean from pre-1966 Storm and post-1966 Storm Sonetto is her immediate tonal shift.

Sonetto before the Storm is far more subdued with her way of speaking with Vertin. Professional and could even be considered more polite.

We can chalk this up as her being on Work Mode and with the Storm's arrival approaching, it's far more important to get the task done than her relaxing her mood.

So, let's think about why I think it's not possible for her to make it back to the Foundation on time. In the prologue, we see them discuss a new form of teleportation device still being improved by LaPlace.

It's a means to have a better way to teleport a large group of people from a much farther distance.

With this in mind, it's important that they have the disks to immediately evacuate because it'll take longer to get back to the safety of the Foundation. But they used all three of it. One to summon Vertin.

One to intercept the enemies.

And one-

Was used by Regulus to escape.

And with that time, they only hade 45 minutes left before the Storm hits. Sonetto instructed her squad to go back ahead, leaving her to go with Vertin to investigate.

Even if we're absolutely generous in stating she can get far with using consistent fast travel arcane spells to move her to safety, how much time did she have?

Not enough. Not even the best teleportation spell can get her back in time assuming the nearest London branch is just a subdivision away.

Speaking of teleportation spell, we can even use one of the teleportation spells as a reference. Aferoj Around.

It's one Sonetto suggested Vertin used to summon her, but immediately dismisses it as a possibility. It could be because of the fact that the range wouldn't make sense assuming that Sonetto's been summoned from the main headquarters all the way to where Vertin is. So even an advanced arcane skill like that can't just summon someone in that great amount of distance.

While it's also should be taken into account that with the reverse having send them from 1966 England all the way to 1929 America, it's still an impossibility if they were to still be within London. Because if that kind of spell is so easily executed consistently, then they wouldn't be developing the Teleport disk. It's an advanced skill for a reason and even that has limitations. So other less taxing teleport skill wouldn't have the distance needed to get Sonetto back in time.

Which brings us to post-1966 Storm Sonetto and the wild implication of her summoning. For one, her reaction is far more brighter and excited, familiar even. Much more like the puppy we consider her to be now. It can also interpreted as shock, but the demeanor compared to post-1966 Storm Sonetto at least has a slightly noticeable difference.

One of the biggest difference though, is this:

Madam Z somehow knew about what Vertin's doing and has instructed Sonetto specifically to seek her out.

If we can believe in Vertin's words here, she's never told anyone about this. Not even Madam Z. So to boldly be told that they knew all along is a strange difference that even took Vertin off guard.

Why this is important is to ask you this. Just how much can you tell if someone is replaced with another version of themself? We're all lead to believe that those differences are drastic, but alternate universes doesn't have to be full blown change. It can be as simple as putting on your right sock first rather than the left that day.

Which is why it'd be so cruel and so sneaky to actually have done this switch in the first place. Because we don't know Sonetto enough to have noticed the change. And Vertin doesn't know her enough either after 4 years of not really being that close to her.

And how can I say this could be possible without a little bit more evidence to entertain it? Well, Chapter 5 is the reason I'm making this theory in the first place. And that's because of one person.

Diggers.

This man. THIS MAN.

Canonically fukin joins the Manus. This manfailure is the sole reason, aside from one more reason but i'll get into later, why I thought about this possibility.

Because you can say that maybe after this event in the island he'll just defect to Vertin's team later after suffering the injustice of the arts or whatever, but I like to point back to one of the listed descriptions of Unilog's capabilities.

It can sometimes change the fates of people. So what I'm suggesting is that the Diggers we end up recruiting isn't the same Diggers, but an alternate universe one who didn't join the Manus as he was literally ripped from his timeline to join Vertin's instead.

This could explain many more of the characters in the roster being from timelines far into the past or even far into the future like John Titor. Heck, it explains dead people like Click and Poltergeist being there when they're supposed to be dead. Because summoning them through The Wheel has the potential to change their fate.

So yes, you can also argue that means Vertin did end up saving Sonetto from reversing and they actually do have their timeline's Sonetto still, but there's still the possibility that she's just another universe's Sonetto. She's both this timeline's Sonetto and not at the same time.

Schrodinger's Sonetto. (Note that this isn't the accurate use of Schrodinger's cat logic, it's mainly a joke)

Which now leads up to 100% the ultimate reason why I wanna pitch this idea as possible and y'all already know where I'm leading up to, this is just a huge build up to one thing and one thing only.

S C H N E I D E R.

THAT'S RIGHT. IT WAS SCHNEIDER ALL ALONG. You think I wouldn't go a single damn analysis without talking about my bbygirl? You're dead wrong. If this summoning system has the damn ability to yoink people from another universe and change their fate, then the possibility of getting Schneider back is far more real. Heck, you can even pull a version of her that actually IS an arcanist like y'all I fukin swear I'm not delulu, PLEASE--

ahem.

So that's my thoughts about what could unilogs do. I know it's extremely far fetched, but I like to entertain these ideas in hopes that it might give people a lot of other theories to craft!

#reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 theory #this is more of a conspiracy theory than JUST a theory #I'm so sorry for this i've completely gone the deep end #it's months worth of brainrot exploding now that I'm free to catch up on things #I have a mouth so therefore I must scream #i wanna make a fanfic using this concept ngl #i have too many WIPs tho quq

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chronicowboy · 9 months

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tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) | 43k

"Think I can get a hug from my best man on my wedding day?" he asks, quietly hopeful in a way that makes Eddie want to tear off his skin.

"Sure," Chris replies with a shrug, turning to throw Eddie a cheeky grin. "Dad, Buck needs a hug."

Two things happen at once then: Eddie has to plaster on a smile authentic enough to convince the one person on this planet that knows him inside out—except he doesn't really have to fake his smile, not at first, because of number two—he sees groom-Buck for the first time. And groom-Buck is every bit as beautiful as Eddie might have imagined him over the years. Happy eyes bright and blue, pink lips stretched wide in a beaming smile, cheeks flushed pink with joy, hair carefully styled and stunningly golden in the morning sunlight. He's half-dressed too, tux jacket still on the hanger on the back of the chair, so Eddie gets an unbarred view of Buck's white shirt stretched taut over his biceps, shoulders, abs.

For a moment, Eddie falls into the greatest betrayal his brain has ever laid out for him, imagining that he might have got to see Buck like this for the first time from the other end of the aisle if he'd just been brave enough to—

"I think he meant you, kid," Eddie teases as he drops their suits to the couch. He widens his stance, so Jee can run through his legs and evade another of Chimney's grab attempts, then he ruffles Christopher's curls as a steadying act before he's suddenly in front of Buck. And he tries not to think about the pathway cleared through the living room by Jee's chase, or the fact that they're under the archway between the kitchen and the dining table, or the knowledge that Bobby is an ordained officiant where he stands behind them. "Hey, Buck," he says softly, smiling genuinely now because this is Buck.

"Hey, Eds," Buck murmurs back, and it's the first time since they'd promised to have each other's backs that Eddie can't quite decipher the emotions making Buck's voice thick.

Eddie wraps him in a hug then, careful and detached as he can manage, but it's Buck in his arms, warm and alive and his for just a few more hours. He doesn't let himself hold Buck's hips like he used to before—before he'd realised why he'd wanted to hold Buck's hips so tightly—just splays his fingers over Buck's back and tries to focus on the soft cotton under his palms rather than the way Buck's temple rests so perfectly against his. Eddie stays there, for too long probably, fingers digging in too tight possibly, and squeezes his eyes shut when they start to water. He's clinging, and he tries not to think about how it feels a little like Buck is clinging to him too.

"Ah," Eddie huffs as he pulls away, taking two steps back just to be safe. He catches Maddie's eyes on him then, sadder than they should be for the happy tears she'd been crying just before he'd got here, and Eddie wonders if her big sister omniscience is working on him too. "Come on, Buckley. Got to make an honest man out of you sooner rather than later."

"Whilst we're on the topic," Chim intervenes, a wriggly Jee on his hips with two shoes on—finally. "Are we sure he should be wearing white?"

(OR: eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia)

@butchdiaz @danielsousa @shitouttabuck @alyxmastershipper @diazass @911-on-abc @folk-fae @stagefoureddiediaz @jeeyuns @piningeddiediaz @robsumagpie @athenagranted @prince-buck-diaz @eddiediaztho @carryingbears @ladydorian05 @made-ofmemories @sherlockcrossing @violet-rot @binickmiller @rainbow-nerdss @thatnamewill-probably-change @ducksbellorum @organizedstardust @mangacat201 @faggotjoness @sibylsleaves @kaseysgirl86-blog @daughter-of-winterfell @thisyearsloveisnow @goodiecornbread @wordsofdiana @thehumongouskargomice @xandromedan @acebuddie @girlnamedjesse @pirrusstuff @angstydiaz @haradrimculture @pinky-promisesss @starlingbite @dontneedmyheart @spaceprincessem @shortsighted-owl @buck2eddie @diazly

#sami rambles #SHE'S FINALLY HERE #ahhh im so excited for you all to read this one #please remember i gave myself carpal tunnel syndrome writing this and wrote through the agony #do compensate me with signal boosts kudos bookmarks comments asks etc.#911 fic #911 fanfic #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #buck x eddie fic #palm springs au

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sassykattery · 6 months

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Mentoring

This is a little smut fic I wrote for Diavolo's birthday, but since I have two fics now and this isn't a "birthday-themed fic," I thought I'd post it now.

CW: MC is AFAB and nameless, uses she/her pronouns. Piv sex, creampie, roughness, harsh language.

WARNING: This fic is centered around the CNC kink. I will explain what that is, but if it's something you may not enjoy due to trauma or other issues, please don't read!!!

CNC: Means consensual-nonconsent. The premise of a cnc scene is that beforehand, both partners agree to certain types of rough or aggressive sex that is of "nonconsesual" nature during the scene. The consensual part is the agreement before the actual sex occurs, where safewords, boundaries, and other parameters are in place. Some people call it rape play, I don't necessarily agree with using that as a blanket term for CNC. This is risky and should not be taken lightly, just like BDSM.

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

Third person POV, reader insert

18+ only

Enjoy

"So we are in agreement. We're doing this?"

"Yes... I think so."

"You can't just think so. This is something that could go poorly for both of us if we aren't both on board with it."

She was quiet for a moment, deciding what to say next. Diavolo lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes, a softened but serious look in his.

"I want this. We have our rules, we agreed to the rules, and we know our way out should we need it," she answered confidently.

"Then... so it shall be."

She sighed as she gazed at her test score. It was fine, but she wanted better. Quietly, she folded it and set it aside so she could focus on class. That was, until she saw Diavolo walk in, making a beeline for the teacher's podium.

"Good morning everyone. Your professor had to take leave today, so I will be filling in for the day. His message to you all is to work on your assignments due this week. You may ask me questions if you need to. No lesson for today," Diavolo explained.

The class became quiet and got to work as instructed.

Except her.

She stared up at Diavolo for a solid minute until his eyes finally landed on hers. She raised an eyebrow. The corner of his mouth barely tipped up.

Today was the day.

She began to work on her homework for the next hour, counting the minutes and seconds until class was over. It was so much more distracting to have him there, just steps away from her own desk while he sat at the professor's. The anticipation was building, and all she could do was organize in her head how this would go. Her thoughts were consumed with running each scenario, every word, every single movement they could make. It was so important that this went right, and maybe–

"And that's class. Thank you all for coming. Have a good day," Diavolo announced, standing at the podium. Everyone was already up and leaving, having packed their things while she just sat there daydreaming.

Once the room was cleared out, she cleared her throat quietly and got up from her desk, her test in hand as she walked up to the podium.

"Hey, I had a question," she stated confidently but softly, trying not to intrude. She saw the papers on his podium and knew he was likely busy.

"Yes, what is it?" He replied in his usual candor, golden eyes gleaming and bright white smile beaming.

"I got this score on my test, and I really thought I did better... Is there any way I could... get some help?" She answered, handing him the sheet of paper. He looked over his nose at her and nodded, taking the paper and setting it down to look at.

"I'll see what I can find."

He scanned it over, reading every question and answer. If there was any skill he mastered, it was looking at anything unfazed and replying in a similarly unaffected manner.

"I see. So, you seemed to have not totally understood this concept here, and this one could have been better here," he explained, pointing out to her what he meant. She came closer and nodded, listening carefully. "I think this one could have used a few more examples to drive home your point as well."

She sighed. "Yeah... That's what I thought, too. I wish I'd done better..." she murmured to him.

Her mind became distracted again, thinking about how good he smelled, the amber and musk filling her head with ideas other than this test.

"Are you listening?" He asked quietly, bowing his head to look at her.

"Oh, sorry..." she mumbled.

Finally, she turned her own head up to look at him, and she swallowed thickly at the idea buzzing in her skull, the one making her question every fiber of her moral being.

"Is there... anything I could do to improve my score? Anything at all?" She asked carefully and slowly, bringing herself closer and peering up at him with slightly widened eyes, her expression maybe a little innocent.

"Did you have something in mind?" Diavolo asked in reply, his voice pitching lower in his tenor range smoothly.

She mentally took a deep breath, centering herself. I want this. I want to try this, she thought to herself.

"I mean... What are my options?" She asked, her own voice stepping just a hair lower in pitch as well, leaning into the intensity of the moment. Her body moved closer intentionally, now just mere inches away from his.

"Don't be coy, I think you and I both know what you're implying," he answered, a bit dominantly. "I saw how you stared at me all hour. You can't stand here now and tell me you don't know what you're asking."

Here we go.

"Surely I don't know what you mean..." she stated, sounding slightly shocked.

His arm snaked around her waist, and he snatched her closer, a little roughly, and bowed his head down to whisper in her ear.

"Don't lie. You want me to improve your grade in return for something, right? A little mentoring? Well, I know what it is you want, and I know what I want, so why don't we skip the rest and get to the point?"

She nearly trembled then, with excitement and nerves from how he spoke to her so harshly but still yet so seductively.

"I... I don't understand. I just wanted to see–"

"Shut up, and come here," he snapped quietly in her ear, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her over to the desk. He pushed her against it, wrapping an arm around her when she became off balance from the sudden movements to hold her up. "You asked for it, now I'll make sure you get what you want, and I'll get what I want," he murmured in her ear before biting on the shell of it.

"But–"

"But nothing, now am I going to take these off, or are you going to help?" He interrupted her again, pushing her to sit on the desk and slipping his thick fingers into the belt loops of her slacks with a hard tug.

"No, I really didn't mean–" she tried to insist.

Riiiiiiiiiiiip.

"I guess I'm doing all of the work," he mumbled, quite literally ripping her slacks off with his inhuman strength like the material was paper.

"Dia–"

She started to yelp, but he slapped a hand across her mouth to cover it and keep her quiet.

"Now, are you wanting your classmates to know you want your headmaster to change your grade in exchange for sex?" He challenged her, his gaze piercing her soul. She shook her head. "Then be quiet."

With her torn slacks on the floor in pieces, his hand skimmed up her warm thigh, and he roughly opened it out wide so he could stand between her legs. He looked down and smirked as her underwear peaked out in the creases of her thick thighs and soft tummy.

"You were anticipating this, weren't you? Wearing just a black little lacey thong today. Were you going to ask your professor for this too had he been here?" He mocked her, snapping the band of her panties against her, making her flinch and moving his hand from her mouth. "Answer me," he snapped.

"No, I wasn't asking for this! I–"

She clamped his hand on her mouth again while tutting her. "I said be quiet. Do not yell again unless you want this to get much worse for you," he commanded. She nodded. He smirked at her panicked expression, tears welling up in her eyes. "Now, there's no need for that. I'll give you what you want. Besides, you're going to be good for me, right? This is all for me, and I'll make sure you enjoy it too."

She shook her head, and he ignored her as he slid her panties down her thighs. When she started to fight him, closing up her legs and pulling away, they met the same fate as the slacks. His eyes dilated when he started to see his prize, and instantly got more aggressive.

"Don't. Fight. Me," he barked at her, grabbing both her thighs and throwing them open wider so he could see her perfect little wet pussy on display for him. She still tried to fight against him, pulling away and shaking her head while she whimpered. He sighed and rolled his eyes. Finally, he pinned her down against the desk with his massive hands on her shoulders, papers flying everywhere. "Are you done?"

She stopped for a moment, looking up at him. Her hands had gripped onto his elbows, trying to hang on as he pinned her. She tapped her finger once against his elbow before saying, "Stop! This isn't what I meant at all!" She pleaded with him.

"Oh, but I think deep down it is what you wanted, pet. I think you were waiting for the perfect moment to use your little charms to win me over, but now you have cold feet. You know you want this. Don't worry, I'll take good care of you," he answered menacingly. "I'll make sure you enjoy it, at least a little."

She shook her head and sobbed. Seeing that she wouldn't stop making noises, and he found them to be rather adorable, he snapped his fingers to block sounds within the room from being heard outside.

"What a mess..." he mumbled with a sigh.

He began kissing her on her lips, hoping to shut her up just for a little bit. He ground himself against her body and let his hands wander her body. His fingers made short work of her uniform jacket and blouse, quickly loosening her tie and gaining access to what was beneath it all. He gave a purr of content as he got a glimpse of her. She laid there, still squirming and whimpering, trying to push him off, but that was like pushing on a brick wall when it came to the prince of hell.

"You are beautiful," he murmured in her ear before licking the shell of it a little obscenely. He ducked his head down and left hard kisses, little bites, and trails of his saliva on her chest.

"Stop," she whimpered, turning her head away from him, but he just chased her down with his lips hot on her exposed skin.

He chuckled darkly in her ear and groaned. "I'll even do you a little favor," he told her while he slipped a hand down her exposed form to her pussy. He danced his fingertips along the slit before sliding them past the crevices to reach her clit where he rubbed it generously.

"Noooo..." she groaned, finding it harder to fight against him. "Please don't do that."

"Ohhh, but you're so wet, pet," he murmured to her, and even she couldn't deny how much more slick she became down below. "You're loving this no matter how much you want to deny it."

He trailed his kissed lower and began feasting upon her breasts, sucking and laving his tongue over her perky nipples with elation.

"Finer than any forbidden fruit, sweeter than any sugar," he mumbled against her flesh. "I can't wait anymore."

Diavolo brought his head up to kiss her with his tongue bullying into her mouth. His hands began to unbuckle his belt and send his slacks to his knees. He quickly shed his uniform jacket and loosened his tie.

"You ready, dulcis? I need you," he said huskily in her ear.

Just after he spoke, she felt something warm and hard pressed against her thighs. Pre-cum started to coat her thigh as he rubbed it against her.

"Please don't, please," she pleaded with him, with a tear rolling down her temple.

"Shh, it'll feel good, just enjoy it," he whispered to her.

The demon pried her legs apart again and stood between them, leaning on one hand on the desk while the other grasped his cock to start rubbing the fat head against her little clit.

"Just a perfect little pussy, and all for me," he mused, feeling her slick coating his length. He bowed his head again to murmur in her ear. "Don't fight me. This will go a lot better if you just take it," he warned her before kissing her temple again. All she did was squirm again beneath him.

After pulling his hips back and angling himself, he slid his cock into her, groaning at the overwhelming tightness of her walls.

"Oh god," she whined, trying to worm away from what was bullying its way into her depths.

He chuckled and kept her in place with little effort on his part. "There's no god here to help you now. It's just you and the Demon Lord," he rumbled darkly in her ear.

It took a few more moments for his cock to be fully seated in her. He took the moments after to breathe in her scent, the glistening light sweat on the sides of her neck, and her sweet, sweet arousal. It was fuel for his fire to keep going.

"You're mine. You're all mine, and I'm not letting go," he stated with a malicious chuckle.

The first thrust was rough, and she cried out at how harsh it was. She couldn't help but cling onto him, her little hands gripping the fabric of his shirt along his elbows. He went back to planting a field of dark blooms, hickies and bites galore. With every thrust, he grunted, fighting the urge to completely lose it. Little squeaks and groans fell from her lips as well, signing conjuction with the rattles of the desk.

"Hells, darling, you're going to make me let go too early," he murmured against her neck. "You can't tell me anymore that you didn't want me to fuck you raw on this desk, not with you dripping down your ass and my thighs."

"I didn't," she insisted weakly, knowing she was losing the fight to stop him and now trying to win the fight to make it through to the end.

He grunted again as he made another hard thrust into her. His pre-cum and her wet walls made it such easy glides in and out, but there was something so cute to him about how she squeaked and whined with every pounding he gave her.

Diavolo chuckled again. "Right, and you don't want me to release inside you too, hmm? You don't want to feel me finally fill you up properly, to give you what you've wanted for so long? You wanted to be fucked, and now you're simply getting the best."

"Oh god," she whined again, clutching onto his shirt along his chest.

"God doesn't save whores like you who beg to be filled so deeply," he replied in her ear, his voice much more serene for someone who was doing this.

He kissed her neck and wrapped his arms around her body, trapping her entirely as he made the last few thrusts count. Using the desk as leverage, he leaned forward more to bring her hips up so he could penetrate her deeper. It took all of just mere moments to start moaning and crying with relief as he hit that sweet spot deep inside, and only that many more moments to make her body lock up as the most intense orgasm of her life befell her. The hot sparks of pleasure bloomed from her abdomen and spiraled out to her limbs. The chasm of pleasure was a deep one, and when the Demon Lord felt her walls contract around his cock and pulse, he was pulled down with her into the abyss of carnal bliss. Hot jets of his cum filled her in waves as his hips rocked forward with each one.

When it was over, the pair lay there, heaving and trying to catch their breath. Diavolo was the first to relax and gain his bearings again. He looked down at his human lover, feeling a wave of passion and simultaneous anxiety.

"My love... My love, look at me, please, baby," he cooed to her, stroking her cheeks with his hand.

Her eyes fluttered open. She looked relaxed at peace.

"We're done... Finis," he softly whispered to her, his hand rising up to pet her hair back. She nodded in understanding and let go of her iron grip on his shirt. "Are you okay? Does anything hurt?"

She shook her head and reached up with a trembling hand to touch his cheek next. He smiled and kissed her palm, reaching with his to grasp her hand gently. He bowed his head slightly to prompt her.

"I'm okay. No pain," she finally verbalized it for him.

"That's good. Shall I take you home so you can rest?" He asked her in a throaty murmur. She nodded. Standing upright, he reached for his red uniform coat and wrapped it around her as he pulled her up right. It was already long, and on her, the coat looked like a blanket and kept her decent. He then put himself back in order, slacks up and buckled, and shirt back in place.

He slid his arms beneath her and picked her up effortlessly in a princess carry.

She laid her head against his shoulder and asked him softly, "What about the rest of the day? My classes?"

Diavolo chuckled and shook his head, carrying her out of the door, snapping his fingers to use magic to reorganize the desk they just laid waste to with their fornication. "After that, you deserve some pampering and all the care I can give you." He then bent his head down to whisper to her, "Besides, those are the perks of being the lover of your headmaster, no? I make the rules, I say what goes."

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed.

Post made by sassykattery. Do not repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated

Tags: @delphidreamin @biteable-pink-pixie @itsmeninerz

#obey me #obey me shall we date #sassywrites #sassystories #obey me fanfic #obey me diavolo #obey me smut #diavolo x female reader #diavolo x afab reader #diavolo smut #cnc smut #happy birthday diavolo #Diavolo's Birthday Celebration 2023 #obey me birthday

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jinwoosungs · 3 months

Text

{ 117 }

shut up and dance with me.

tsukishima kei x fem.reader x oikawa tooru

college au

banner credit to @luneariaa ( and @madeimoisellesoleil for helping! )

dedicated to @svrakas for showing me the specific tiktok by @/5yaff that inspired this fic ♡

tsukishima kei was not a person who enjoyed going out to clubs-

yet the same couldn't be said about you, his girlfriend of 3 years.

he honestly felt so tired after coming home from a long day of classes. all he wanted to do was cuddle up next to you on your couch, put on some cheesy rom-com he knew would make you laugh and smile while indulging on your favorite takeout order.

yet the moment he entered your shared apartment and was greeted by your saccharine smile and melodious laughter, kei knew he was screwed.

because this- this was a telltale sign that you wanted something from him.

"alright spill, just what the hell do you want?"

you sputter a bit, appearing flustered while stomping your feet a bit (okay, he'll admit it, you were too fucking cute for your own good.)

"there's no need to be so rude, kei! i-i just thought, well... aren't you feeling a bit of cabin fever here? we haven't left our apartment in months."

kei scoffs while pushing up his glasses. "we've left the apartment plenty of times. or have you forgotten that we need groceries every month?"

"that's what i'm saying kei, i don't wanna leave our home just to do mundane things! i wanna go out to bars, i want to dance and just have a great time with my boyfriend!" as kei watches you go on and on about your supposed cabin fever, he notices how you kept pacing back and forth, sending him cute little pouty glances his way, your expression reminding him of a puppy desperate for attention.

"please can we go out and do something fun, kei, pleeeeaaase?"

he could feel the impending headache that was close to settling near his temple, yet something about disappointing you left a bad taste in his mouth.

with a sigh, he clenches his eyes shut while massaging the bridge of his nose. "alright fine, we can go out, but only for a few hours! when 11pm hits, we're out of there, got it?"

an excited squeal was heard coming from your parted lips, and kei relishes in the way you jump up against him, wrapping your arms around his neck to place a kiss against his lips before hurriedly bouncing away from him.

"i'll be out in 30 minutes, babe!"

he listens as you slam the door shut, running a hand through his blond hair while his golden irises narrow in annoyance, knowing he had to take some tylenol before heading out, just as a precaution to prevent any migraines from rearing its ugly head.

{ ... }

to say kei felt pissed the moment he stepped into the club would be a complete understatement.

he allows the heavy fumes to surround you and him, buying you one of your favorite drinks as he stands off to the side. his glare was obvious, and he kept you by his side throughout it all.

this was the worst idea ever, since kei did not feel like dancing. he refuses to remove himself from his spot on the wall, taking sips of his strawberry daiquiri that was way too sweet. from his periphery, he sees your jittery movements and asks what was wrong.

"uhm, well, this is my favorite song that's playing, and i'd really love it if you could dance with me, kei."

by now, the tylenol clearly was not working, for he could feel the pinpricks of a migraine beginning to break through, the dull pain coursing through him as he places the rest of the drink off to the side. your name comes out of his lips in an exasperated sigh. "if you want to dance, just dance by yourself. i have a headache and don't feel like doing anything."

kei refuses to allow your hurt expression to sway him, ignoring the painful lump in his throat at the sensation. he hated being the cause of your pain so much, even though he knows he can be a complete asshole at times.

he was about to say something, ready to change his mind and dance with you after all when the sight of someone with cinnamon brown hair and a wide grin stops him in his tracks.

"what's a pretty girl like you standing here all alone?" like a bucket filled with ice was just thrown at him, kei watches as your attention was stolen by that perfect stranger.

"oh, i-it's nothing. it's just, my favorite song is playing..."

"what?! then why are you waiting here?! let's go dance!"

not even looking back at him, kei watches as another man takes you in his arms and leads you to the dance floor, feeling the sharpest pain he had ever felt while watching you smiling and dancing with someone that wasn't him.

{ ... }

you decided to ignore kei the moment this handsome stranger whisks you away from him, giggling while having a great time dancing to your favorite song.

the man's rich laughter fills your ears, and you found your heart unexpectedly skipping its beats at the sound of it. "so... was that pissant your boyfriend?"

you roll your eyes while turning around to face him, still dancing with him while talking to him through the music, "yeah, he's an asshole, but... he's my asshole."

now that you could see him up close, you realized that this guy was utterly gorgeous. with gentle brown locks of hair cascading over his forehead and coffee brown eyes, you felt as though you could drown in his gaze. his full lips were upturned in a gentle smile when he suddenly leans in to whisper to you.

"don't look now, but i think your man is getting jealous."

"hmph, serves him right for not dancing with me."

you could feel the stranger's smile against the shell of your ear, "well, maybe this will get him to react like the way you want him to."

the fast-paced song suddenly turns into something slower and more intimate, making you gasp when your dance partner takes you in his arms while looking behind him. you couldn't tell what he was doing, but from the way he held up his hand while lifting up a finger aimed directly at your boyfriend, you could feel the heat rising up against your cheeks.

"you- why did you do that for?!"

the handsome stranger lets out another laugh before leaning down to whisper in your ear, "i can tell how much you love him, but just between you and me, if you ever want a real man in your life, come find me. my name's oikawa tooru..."

before you could even deny the need to ever find him, tsukishima was immediately standing in front of you, shoving oikawa away with his chest puffing out in response. "i think that's enough of you grinding on some other man's woman. know your place, asshole."

his voice was filled with venom as oikawa takes a step backwards, hands held up in feign defeat as amusement was seen shining in his chocolate brown gaze. "hey hey, no need to get so upset, i was just helping her have a good time, that's all."

"we're leaving."

unable to say anything else, you look back at oikawa and give him an apologetic expression, only to be met with his wide smile as he mouths something at you.

take care and be happy.

{ ... }

"yo, jackass, your blind date just saw that stunt that you pulled and left the bar."

oikawa was forced to look away from the retreating couple, meeting his best friend's angry gaze with a sheepish expression on his face. "ah, damn iwa, did izumi leave after all?"

"that's what i just told you." iwaizumi's scowl was enough to make oikawa laugh as he walks away from the dance floor and back to his table. "was this why you invited me? so i could keep the girls you reject company while you fuck around?"

"ah come on, don't be that harsh iwa-chan! because when you put it that way, it makes me sound like a bastard."

"that's because you are a bastard." iwaizumi lets out a huff while downing the rest of his drink. "that tall blond looked like he was ready to kick your ass."

"heh, i highly doubt that." oikawa takes his glass and takes a swig out of it. "i was just playing cupid, you know? his girl was way too cute for a tightass like him, so i just did something to make him take action."

oikawa has to bite back his laughter, making a tremendous effort to keep it from bubbling out of him. "you? playing cupid? don't make me sick, assikawa."

"alright alright, i'll shut up." he sighs while leaning back on his seat, thinking back to that super cute girl with that beanpole boyfriend. "she was really cute though, so i'm hopeful that she'll take me up on my offer..."

{ ... }

"kei, s-stop, you're going too fast- k-kei, you're hurting me!"

with a gasp, kei finally stops walking, looking behind him to see you holding back your tears. he looks down and finally realizes that he has been holding your hand in a vicegrip while dragging you along, further fueling his guilt.

letting you go, he turns away from you while letting out a string of curses.

"i know you want to do it, so just fucking do it." kei was glaring at you, and he knew that he was just jealous and upset, but he couldn't stop himself.

"d-do what, kei?"

he takes your hand and leads you towards an alleyway, somewhere private and away from any prying eyes. "i know you want to break up with me and go back into that bastard's arms, that's what you want, right? a fun and energetic guy that shares all of your interests and will dance with you on a whim?"

"if that's what you want, then go, go and just-" before kei could continue with his rant, he was suddenly stopped by you. he sees the way you stand on the tip of your toes, placing your hand against his jawline before kissing him. you perfectly place your lips against his in a gentle kiss, and he, being too enamored with how sweet you tasted, basks in it.

the moment your lips met with his, he forgot all about the anger and annoyance he felt. the jealousy was whisked away, forgotten like a puff of smoke escaping into the cold night air. not wanting to let you go, kei wraps his arms around you, allowing his fingertips to play with the soft strands of your hair.

he could feel his heart pounding from out of his chest when you pull away from the kiss first. your eyes were filled with adoration and kindness, and he felt like such a bastard all over again upon realizing that you still loved him, even now.

with a grunt of your name, kei wraps his arms around you, burying his face within your hair while murmuring an apology.

"'m sorry."

"i'm sorry, too." was your reply. you silently beckon him to face you, framing his handsome face with your two hands.

"i know you were probably tired from your classes and wanted to just stay in. i'm sorry for making you go out when you probably felt tired. how about we order some ramen and we can stop by that bakery and get you the strawberry shortcake that you love so much?"

kei was absolutely astounded by how sweet you were, making him give you a tiny frown, "you're not mad at me?"

"of course not, silly."

"you don't want to leave me?"

"nope!"

"even when i'm a bastard?"

"you're my bastard."

"and you still love me?"

"i'll always love you!" you answer him with the widest and most beautiful smile that kei felt his heart ache and turn soft in response.

he remains silent, simply embracing you once more while pressing a kiss against your hair.

"next time we go out, i promise i'll shut up and dance with you when you ask."

and truly, you wouldn't want him any other way ♡

a.n. - it's been so long since i've written anything for my haikyuu!! boys; this is currently unedited, but i hope you readers enjoy this story! 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei x you #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei fluff #tsukishima kei angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #.stories

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