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hazelfoureyes · 3 months

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Someone nice, Somewhere safe

Angel x Virgin Female Reader

જ⁀➴ Angel x Virgin Male Reader - Someone nice, somewhere safe*

*same story, just your bits and bobbles are changed

You let it slip to the group you were a virgin, and instead of laughing, Angel grabs you before bed to offer a friendly hand.

.<Warnings/Promises: Angel Dust x Virgin Female!Reader, smut, fingering, lubed to the gods, Angel uses four arms, Valentino is a blind bag of smashed assholes, creampie, oral, the gentlest sex I’ve ever written (probably), an alarming towel>

listen here virgins, if I could craft a perfect first time for you, this is it. Minus the lack of condoms because—it’s hell? Sex workers are tested bi-weekly?? This is still a fantasy??? Just if anything, please take from this the importance of a safe and trusting environment at all times 🙏

minor dni (shoo! get outta here! Go on, git! 🧹)

You thought everyone would laugh when you said you were a virgin. The group awe’d and said it was cute, which was definitely better than the response you’d gotten in the overworld. But when you said you’d never actually orgasmed before, everyone just looked… sad? The conversation was quickly derailed by Angel launching into a list of wildest orgasm faces he’s seen, Charlie leaving the room entirely.

Continuing with the evening’s theme of surprise, you hadn’t expected Angel to catch up to you when everyone was filing off to bed. His hand gently reached for your wrist, “Hey ya got a sec?”

For Angel, the epitome of smiling through the pain, you’d give him the remainder of your time in hell if he just asked. Every second, his.“Always!”

“So uh”, he rubbed the back of his neck, “about bein’ a virgin and all that.” Your stomach dropped, was the famous porn star about to embarrass you into a second death?“I think it’s real important that like— knowin’ yourself, and what makes you feel good is like super healthy. I dunno if you are interested in that kinda stuff but,” he was wildly moving his hands round, nervously stumbling over his words, “I’d be happy to help ya out.”

All of the blood rushed to your face.

“Oh fuck!” Angel grabbed your head and tipped it forward, “I would have accepted a simple no, jesus!” With one hand pinching your nose, he led you into his room just down the hall.

What— what was happening, exactly? At all? In general? With your entire existence?

He kicked the door closed behind him and grabbed a handful of tissues, “Keep your head forward. Everyone who says tilt it back is an idiot.”

His hand was red when he drew it from your face, using his other hand to now hold tissues between his fingers as he pinched your nose shut.

“Is- is my nose bleeding??” Your voice cracked.

“Does that happen often?”

“Never.”

“Well I got to help you with at least one first, right?” Angel laughed, moving his hands away as you took over the task.

Oh, right. The offer. You glanced around the room, small but lived-in. Everything was pink and purple and soft.

“Angel, do you think because you’re a sex worker, you have to help me?” The room fell silent. Angel completely still beside you. You would love someone you could trust to take your virginity, but you would never want to use Angel like so many other people did on a daily basis.

“Ya know— a lot of people get real confused about this.” He sighed, chest heavy with the many misconceptions others had, “What I do for work, what I gotta do to get through the day, has nothin’ to do with who I am as a person.” You turned to look at him, “Why should I limit my experiences because of what other people have done to me?” The words hit you like a truck. You had unintentionally boxed him into his job, in turn into his trauma, summing him up as a warm body and incapable of any depth past that. Just a sex worker.

“No, no I didn’t mean anything like that. I just, I don’t want to ever,” you grabbed two of his hands, “ever take advantage of your kindness.” You squeezed, “or any part of you.”

His frown turned up, “We’re dead, yea, but you still exist. If you want to, you should enjoy every part of your afterlife. And I’d hate you to meet some asshole who’s too rough or doesn’t get ya warmed up first. A bad first time can be really traumatizin’.”

You nodded without actually thinking. Your brain wasn’t really processing meaning, his words were just soft and kind and your nose still stuffed full of tissue.

“Do you wanna?”

You nodded more vigorously, “Did my nose start bleeding again?”

Angel took the tissue away, giving a second to see, “Nope.”

Taking a deep breath, you said, “Okay. Yeah, I want that. Someone nice, somewhere safe.”

“It ain’t quite nice but-,” Angel looked around his room.

“It’s perfect, Angel.”

“Aw fuck, I should clean up,” he hurriedly carried trash from his nightstand, flattening out the comforter and adjusting his pillows. He placed fat nuggets on the floor with a little pat on the head.

Finally, he stood in front of you, two hands on his hips, two gesturing to you.

“Alright baby! Let’s pop some cherries! Undress~” he elongated the word, shimmying his hips a little, “-to your comfort level.” He began to unbutton his blazer, “Bare minimum, take off your pants and underwear, please and thank you. Though I have fucked through underwear…” He was momentarily lost in a memory.

You hadn’t anticipated getting naked in front of a friend tonight. But Angel so effortlessly shed his clothes, peeling off his gloves. Pulling off your pants, you paused.

“Is it weird if I keep my shirt on? Like— do you know who Winnie the Pooh is?”

“Nothin’ weird about bein’ comfortable, pookie.” He pinched your cheek, “I’d offer a modesty blanket but I kinda need to see what I’m doing.” His eyes flitted to the left, “No, wanna. I wanna see.” Angel’s laugh relaxed you, the idea of anyone wanting to see you made you feel a little less—-naked. Still, your hands seemed frozen on your underwear’s edge.

With a hum, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a towel. “Go on, lie down. I’ll help ya relax. This is already feeling too medical-like.”

Were you going to need a towel? Were you going to need a towel?? Were you going to need a towel!?

You sat back on his bed, and when he crawled up to meet you, all legs and arms and Angel Dust, you buried your face in your hands.

“Oh hey—,” his voice was so soft, lacking its usual sass, “Wanna just, cuddle and watch stupid shit on my phone?” You groaned, face sinking further down. This would be easier if he wasn’t so sweet. You could at least take a backseat, then.

You shook your head, and felt his hand on your ankle. It snaked up your calf, slipped down your knee and thigh, finding the waistband of your underwear. When you looked up from your hiding place, Angel was a foot from your face. His features lit only by the purple neon signs hanging beside his bed and near the door. He lifted his brows, a question he didn’t need to vocalize. You sank back into the purple and pink pillows, different sizes, different textures, gently enveloping you.

With two hands now, he slide off your underwear. You might die, again. Your heart would give out any second, incapable of handling the moment. You were manually breathing.

He lifted your hips with two hands, a third sliding the towel beneath you before setting you back down.

“Do ya-,” he was rummaging now inside the nightstand drawer, “not play with yourself? Ever?”

“Not really. Not like, there.”

“Whaddya do with all your free time?” His short but enthusiastic laughter forced a smile to your cheeks. Angel slid the drawer shut and came to rest in front of your tightly shut thighs and knees. You heard a cap pop, and found the courage to sit up and see what he was doing.

“What?” He squeezed a clear, thick lubricant onto his right hand, “Nerves can make holes dry like nothin’ else. No fun for no one, trust me. Could start a fuckin’ fire—- and spit ain’t lube!” Angel said it like he spoke from a personal experience.

Ah, the towel. That made sense now.

“Should I do something?”

“Just lie back, baby~,” he opened your knees and followed your face as you settled back down, “Do you like kissin’?”

You’d kiss a trashcan if Angel said it got him hot, so, “Yeah.”

“Good,” One hand touched your cheek, sliding to your chin as he brought your lips to his. You thought you’d melt, his hands so soft on you, lips confident and sure. He used his thumb on your chin to pull down your bottom lip and ask you for entrance. When you opened up to him, his tongue slid into yours as his sticky wet hand finally came into contact between your legs. Two fingers rubbing the lube up and a down your pussy.

You nearly inhaled him with your shock, he giggled into it, “You’re so cute.” You twitched under his hand, “Ooh, and reactive! Daddy likes.”

Stop. Stop talking. I’m going to black out.

His mouth returned to yours, tongue over your tongue, as his fingers just massaged your entrance. No attempt at entering, no prodding, just gentle up and down motions. Slowly, your felt your skin heating beneath his hand, the lubricant somewhat melting with your warmth.

At work, Angel was never the lead. Never the top, and never afforded time to ease anyone open. He had no issues with sleeping with women, it was just usually for money or a shoot. Not his preferred flavor, but he could still get it up. Watching you sigh and twitch under him felt like a treat. Such a sweet response to what so many people made unnecessarily dirty at work. He wasn’t shocked to find his cock twitching, swelling as your breathing hitched with every stroke of his hand. When was the last time he could just… slow down? Be the one in control? Not control like Val, control like—- can I get you a pillow? Is the pacing good? Let’s soften these lights. Hold my hand, sweetheart.

His head felt a little dizzy. His middle finger pressed now, and with a slow but constant motion entered you. ‘Uncomfortable’ was the best word. Your body tensed around him, but he gently pressed passed your virgin walls. He hummed, “First one down! Atleast,” he paused, “two more to go.”

“Atleast??” You shook your head.

“It’s sex math, trust the professional in the room.” He withdrew the finger and slid it back in, starting a slow pace of long drags from knuckle to fingertip.

It didn’t hurt, to his credit. The excitement of having Angel touching you so intimately made the finger easier to relax into. Angel must have noticed, his finger leaving you. He popped the top again of his lube and pressed in two fingers. This was harder. You whined, his fingertips pushing past the tight entrance of your cunt and settling into the wet warmth behind.

Lying on your back, you stared at the now upside-down photos behind his bed. He looked so happy. Could you join that wall? Was this wall worthy?

“You still good?” He leaned over you, fingers moving.

You nodded, “Can I have another kiss?”

Ah, you might as well have punched him in the chest. “Of course, darlin’~ Ask and you shall receive.” You liked kissing, genuinely, but were always scared you’d kiss someone too long and end up in an awkward situation having to explain you weren’t wanting sex. But that fear was all gone, you’d broken the code. Get naked first, then kiss.

You smiled into his mouth, and he smiled back, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“I like kissing you.” You leaned up, pressing your lips to his chin. His fingers quickened, and you moaned without warning. You felt your self grip his finger, nervousness slinking away and finally letting you feel aroused.

“Ooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” he leaned back, repeating the same steps and trying to press a third finger into you. His abundance of hands were a blessing, one at your entrance, one on your knee to keep your shaking legs open, and two roaming down the sides of your body. When three fingers finally entered, you could feel the burning stretch of your skin around them. He pushed in, and the skin followed. He pulled out, your sensitive hole pulling too. The hand on your knee came to your crotch, his palm pressing lightly down on your clit. You glanced up to him, his eyes focused as he watched his fingers slowly drag in and out of you. It burned still, but just past that burning was a slippery sensation that made your lap warm with the rush of blood.

He let his fingers sink in entirely, before bending and feeling inside you. Your knee jumped when he hit something.

“Bingo! Say hello to your g-spot.” He beamed down at you, gold tooth shining, “Not everyone needs it to cum but oooh boooy does it maximize pleasure,” it sounded so pornographic when he said it.

You weakly copied, “B-bingo.”

“Three fingers means I can do this now~” he replaced his palm with his fingers, sticky with lube. His long digits were fast and practiced as he rubbed your clit. “Sex math. Dont need your virgin pussy locking up on me.” He said quietly to himself, fingers in and out of you picking up speed. Your head was pressing into the pillows as your neck strained, you’d never masturbated while someone, something, penetrated you. Every stroke of his fingers made your body spasm, the feeling of something hard and unforgiving pushing back against your quivering walls made a pleasure you couldn’t describe.

“Feelin’ good yet?” The way he said it, he knew damn well how you were feeling.

You whimpered into one of the pillows, “Yeah, it’s starting to feel good.” A weak nod.

Angel’s grin bordered on wicked, hand slowing. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your clit. Then another. His tongue flattened against his bottom lip as he dragged it over your sensitive bud of nerves.

You moaned, a half spoken-half cried, “Oh fuck, Angel-.” Hips bucking up, his fingers kept their place and followed. You humped up against his tongue, ground down into his fingers; up, down. Soft tongue, rigid fingers.

“Like that? Watch this,” He cupped his mouth over your clit and began strumming it with his tongue. Fat and flat, then thin and sharp. His fingers slowed, now just bending to hit your soft g-spot again and again.

One hand held tightly to the pillow, the other coming to Angel’s hair. Your body kept jumping away from overstimulation but you fought against it every time and tried to grind against his face.

He lifted his mouth off you with a deliberate pop, “Feelin’ good?” You nodded, eyes closed. “Ready for the real thing?”

“Yeah. I want to feel more, Angel.” It came out as more of a whine than you meant.

His hand came to his erection, red and leaking. Stroking himself, he returned to massaging at your entrance, fingers dipping in then out.

“You comfortable with getting on your knees? This position ain’t so conducive for what I’m tryin’ to do.”

Somehow, ass up sounded better than face to face, “You’re the expert.” You rolled onto your stomach, hips up, face resting into the sea of pillows. You paused, lifted off your now sweaty shirt, and got back into position.

“Sexpert, but thank you!” The lid popped open again, cold and viscous lube being dripped directly onto pussy, “Finally some recognition around here.” He coated himself with what was still on his hands, and raised your hips to line himself up.

“Deep breaths, okay?” He leaned over your back, kisses falling down your skin. Two hands held your hips, one guided himself into you. You tensed when his head began to push in, “Relaaax, just like the fingers.”

A muffled, “okay” from your place in the pile. Your heart was suddenly racing, the tight coil of pleasure his mouth summoned now gone. He wiped his dick up and down your folds, swiping past your entrance. Lining up, he pushed in, getting his head firmly sunk into you.

“Breath, baby,” he moaned into your shoulder. You took a deep breath in, your body tight still. But, it didn’t hurt like you’d thought. It burned, but there was no sting, no tearing. Angel’s hands ran up and down your sides, along you ass and thighs. He gently touched everywhere he could reach, until he felt you soften, “Ready to keep going?”

“Yes please”, you turned your head to look at him.

He pulled out slightly to collect more lube on his shaft, before slowly sinking into you until he bottomed out.

You were gasping, your brain misfiring. You couldn’t feel anything but him, your body just a formless thought with Angel’s warm, solid cock reaching deeper into than you thought possible. One roaming hand reached for your shoulder, “Can I move?”

“Slow,” your hand searched for a loose fold of comforter to grip, but it was soon encased and intertwined by one of his.

He pulled out, and slowly thrust back in. A saccharine moan fell from his mouth, and it made you whimper.

You were so soft around him, yet gripping him so snuggly he felt like he was melting into your walls. His breath was unsteady, “You feel so good on my cock, baby.” A burning blush took over your face, a rush of pleasure electrifying your clit.

“How ya doin’?” Angel sounded nervous, timid.

You had to collect saliva to get any words out, mouth running dry from panting, “S’good.” You tried again, “So good.” Your fingers tightened around his.

He adjusted his hips, watching you closely. When your eyes closed and your hand nearly broke his, he grinned down, “Bingo~,” his speed began to pick up.

“Right there,” you whimpered, “please don’t stop, right there Angel.” You dragged out the last syllable of his name. You could feel a pressure building in your lower stomach.

Angel took languid thrusts out to the tip and pushing back past your still resisting entrance. Every time he pulled out and slipped in felt better than before. The sensations of him opening you around his cock again and again had your stomach and thighs tensing. You brought your hand up to press at your clit, finger frantically moving. You felt something building, you were desperate to reach its climax.

Angel’s hand came down and pushed yours aside, his fingers strong and not shaking with your impending orgasm.

“Almost- Angel pleeeease! Don’t stop- keep—” You squeezed his hand tighter, his thrusts becoming faster and shallower. His repeated pressing of your g-spot pushed you over the edge, hand slowing only slightly.

"You can do it, baby. Come on. Almost there~" His words fell apart in his mouth, his own moans getting louder, your cunt tightening in spasms as your first orgasm tore through you. Your body was so inviting, warm walls sucking his head deeper. He rarely got to feel this sensation, barely ever chosen as the one doing the fucking, let alone fucking a woman. His head rested against your back, hands running along the curve of your hips as he melted into your sweet heat.

He picked up speed, only drawing out an inch or so now with each thrust. The lube made a pop and squelch every time his skin pulled from yours, the sound making his legs weak.

“Where can I cum?” His breath was raspy, messy with the pleasure of your soft insides rubbing along his shaft. You gripped the blanket, orgasm still rolling from the feeling of Angel chasing his release with your body. You could hear the strain in his voice, “Gonna need an answer real fast, babe.” You hid your face in the pillow mountain again, embarrassed to answer.

“Inside,” you tried to say it loudly enough for him to hear.

He whimpered a, “Fuuuuck” down your spine, “Such a dirty little virgin.” His hips stuttered before he sunk into you with such force your legs gave out. Your body came down flush onto the bed. Angel was pressed into you, chest against your back as his breathing calmed. You could feel his heart through your ribs, his chest fluff silky on your skin. Your body was warm, his hot cum filling you.

Small, lazy kisses on your back, then up your neck, he leaned to kiss your cheek. He slid out of you delicately, but you didn’t move. His weight left the bed, then returned as a warm, wet cloth wiped you clean. After a couple of minutes of gentle cleaning, you felt the throw blanket cover your back. Angel plopped down on his back beside you, pulling the blanket over his legs and unlocking his phone, “Wanna see this fuckin’ hilarious video of my boss runnin’ into a glass wall?”

You chuckled, “More than anything.” He side eyed you, “Well, not anything.”

“Right answer, toots,” One of his hands came down and settled on your hair, he leaned in to your head and as you watched Valentino collide head first into a wall, he said softly, “Let me know if you need anything. I got a bitchin’ tub in there.”

You hummed, reaching a shakey hand up and pressing ‘replay’ on his phone. Angel’s laughter echoed off the walls, and you decided you had no plans on leaving bed anytime soon.

༻Masterlist༺

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pandoraslxna · 10 months

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could u write a fic where lo’ak is edging the reader so she gets kinda frustrated and storms off so the rest of the day lo’ak is teasing her and making fun of her for getting mad but she gets back at him by edging him so much that he cries🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Want, get, have.

adult Lo‘ak x female metkayina reader

Words: 5.2k

Summary: Lo‘ak takes advantage of the little crush he knows the olo’eyktan’s spoiled daughter habors for him. That is, until you finally decide to get payback for all his teasing.

Warnings: explicit smut, edgeplay, Lo‘ak is kinda mean and maybe out of character here, minimal dub/con warning because he’ll get tied up later, p in v, handjob, oral / face sitting, cowgirl position, dirty talk, crying, begging, degradation & praise kink, orgasm denial, obsession, spit kink, switch!Lo‘ak, creampie

Notes: sorry this took forever, I hope you like it 🩵

Na’vi translation:

paskalin = honey

At first, it was a rumour.

To be more specific, it was the kind of rumour that was grounded close enough to reality that he could see it happening, but not so close that a skeptic could take it at face value, no matter how hard Kiri swore it was legit. Because, see, she heard it from Rotxo who'd heard it from your brother Ao’nung and therefore it must be true. There was no real reason to put any stock in this particular story over, but Lo‘ak couldn't help but be curious. He spent days going back and forth on whether or not he should investigate, but after the fifth, "Hey bro, did you hear...?", he knew he wouldn't be able to get any peace of mind if he didn't. And when it turned out to be true, Lo‘ak couldn’t believe his luck.

The spoiled little brat of the olo’eyktan really had a crush on him. Him, of all people.

As the chiefs daughter, you were accustomed to getting what you wanted.

It wasn't even a matter of being selfish… it was just a habit at this point. Want, get, have. You were spoiled, that’s what it was. It wasn't that difficult to get.

And Lo‘ak knew difficult. Even as a son of an olo’eyktan himself, he had to struggle to get where he was. A better portion of his childhood was difficult, growing up in war, always living under his older brothers shadow. An outcast, a four fingered freak, neither really belonging to his own people nor those aliens from another star, and most definitely not to the metkayina clan. No, Lo‘ak was far from being spoiled.

So what was he supposed to do, when you approached him for the very first time, thinking that batting your pretty long lashes was enough for him to fall to your knees like everyone else would’ve? Exactly! Reject you.

The downright confused look on your beautiful, flawless face was more than just priceless to him, as you struggled to understand that for the first time in your life, you were denied to have something that you wanted.

The flower of his mischievous plan blossomed just shortly after, when you came over to his marui in the morning with freshly picked fruit for breakfast. And then again, when your offerings turned a little more… personal.

Sucking him off, down at the shore. Or when you gave him a handjob after coming back from a hunt with your brother Ao’nung. Nothing has ever fed his ego as much as having a sweet thing like you following him around, practically acting as his shadow. Obsessed, that’s what you were. You became obsessed with him, craving for attention from the one thing you couldn’t have.

And Lo‘ak loved it. The more he denied you, the more you wanted him. But the best part of it all was, when you spread your pretty, smooth, cyan legs for him.

"Look at the mess you’ve made", Lo‘ak tsks, stroking his slick covered dick right over the mound of your pussy. "Got my whole cock drenched. You‘re really that desperate, huh?"

Your chest heaves, breathing rapid, and you’re struggling to collect yourself from the intense orgasm that was so harshly ripped away from your grasp, just as it was about to shatter your whole being.

"Lo‘ak, Lo‘ak please–"

A low chuckle vibrates in his chest, as he furiously pumps his cock with one hand, while fumbling your breast with the other.

"Please, Lo’ak, please", he mocks your tone with a fake pout and then pinches your nipple, before he rolls it between his thumb and index finger. He tugs on the sensitive bud, then asks sternly, "Please, what?"

"I need to come", you hiccup, your glassy eyes being a clear indication that you were actually close to sobbing from desperation. "Let me come, please. I- I was so close!"

"No."

Lo‘ak had lost count on how many times this had happened by now. How many times he had you in every possible position; bend over, under him, on top of him, laying, standing, sitting, on your knees… but he had never granted you that sweet release before. Not that he wasn’t able to, oh no. He had you on the verge of crying, eyes rolling back into your skull, with trembling legs and drool running down your chin like a fucked out little doll within minutes. But he made it his personal goal to finish first. Even if that meant for him to pull out of the delicious, wet heat that enveloped his cock, just to fuck his fist instead and spill himself onto your chest, stomach or wherever he preferred.

As unsatisfying as that might be, the sight in front of him made it all worth it. You were a mess. A begging little brat, too spoiled to handle being denied not only of his love and affection, but also of your orgasms. It was perfect.

You were just so adorable, trying to regain your composure on wobbly legs, once you realized that all that begging and pleading wouldn’t get you very far with him. And then when you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest, like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and stormed off in frustration, it made it all so much better. If that was even possible.

But no matter how insanely mad he was driving you, you just couldn’t stay away from him for long. Not even when Lo’ak so bluntly teased you for your behavior, mocking your pleads, whispering them into your ear as you sat on his lap. Or when he called you spoiled, a brat, his dumb little doll so boldly in front of your friends, not caring for the way your cheeks turned pink in embarrassment. It was only a matter of time for that unbearable tension in your core, an almost animalistic urge for release, to melt you from the inside out, and until you were trying to sweet talk your way back into his loincloth, unable to keep your hands to yourself.

Whatever this odd situation was, Lo‘ak was truly enjoying playing with you like this. Maybe even a little too much.

Unbeknownst to him however, you grew more frustrated with every passing day and every orgasm he robbed you of. So much so, that at one point, you just couldn’t help yourself anymore. Enough was enough, you decided.

There’s a pinch to the soft apple of his cheek that makes Lo‘ak stir awake abruptly from the little nap he had decided to take earlier.

He sighs softly. The sun was still shining bright through the leaves of a big palm tree, blinding his eyes. Lifting a hand to shield the sun away, he’s pulled up short by something around his wrists. Immediately, the fog in his mind begins to clear as he tugs on the restraints locking his arms together over his head.

Hearing your lighthearted giggle sends a wave of goosebumps all over his body, and Lo‘ak blinks a few times for his eyes to adjust to the brightness, before he opens them slowly.

Lifting his head to look down on himself, he’s met with the sight of you, cyan skin glistening in the warm sunlight, kneeling between his spread thighs.

"Good morning, sleepyhead", you coo softly, but Lo‘aks ears fold themselves against his head, his eyebrows pulling together in visible confusion. He then pulls against whatever is tied around his wrists again, testing the strength of his restraint. It’s tight and rough on his skin, but it doesn’t hurt. At least not yet. Whatever it is, it feels suspiciously like the woven cord of a fishing net.

They may not have been designed for this, but they still work pretty well and can also withstand a lot of force without tearing- especially like this, tying Lo’ak to a tree, with no real leverage or enough room to move his hands freely or use just an ounce of his actual strength.

And they ensure that you would get the perfect view of Lo‘ak; with his muscular thighs spread wide and his loincloth lazily hanging over his most priced possession. Just one tug on the right string and it would fall off. You couldn’t help taking a moment to appreciate him like this, entirely constrained, leaving him so open and so vulnerable to whatever you would choose to do to him.

"What are you doing?", Lo‘ak huffs out a laugh, but his voice carries more than a hint of nervousness.

Again, you giggle. Scooting closer, you let your hands run over his chest, all the way up to his neck and over his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. He‘s already so on edge, it makes heat spread in your core.

"You know, I always get what I want, forest boy", you innocently smile up at him, dainty fingers running down over his pecks and to his waist, where his loincloth sits. "And what I want, is you."

Once untied, the neatly woven cloth falls off of him slowly and the omatikaya sucks in a sharp breath. You don’t hesitate to reach out for him, giving his already half hard cock an experimental stroke to feel him stir alive.

"But you’ve been so mean to me, Lo‘ak", you put on a fake pout and then sigh, "You leave me with no choice but to simply take what I want."

Lo‘ak‘s scoff that follows tells you more than enough.

"Oh, yeah? You’re gonna take what you want, like the spoiled little brat that you are? Go on then", he grins, watching you stroke his cock until he was fully hard, standing proud and tall in your palms.

It’s cute, you think. How oblivious he is to the situation he’s in. But by Eywa, you will enjoy every second of it, truly make it up for all the times he didn’t let you come.

Lo‘ak felt the pleasure building in his lower abdomen when your hand tightened just slightly around his cock. You twist your hand on the upward stroke, your thumb teasing the slit on his tip before you let him lazily thrust into your fist, just once.

Fingers sliding over his length and up the underside of his cock, you work him slowly but surely, drawing out a low moan that Lo’ak tried, but failed, to disguise as a curse, before shifting to a faster pace.

It’s no surprise to him how good you are at this. Just thinking about your heavenly handjobs had him rock hard and seeking you out during the most random times a day, thats how damn good they were.

As you let spit pool in your mouth and then dribble onto the mushroom-like tip, Lo’ak throws his head back in bliss at the new sensation, panting fast and heavy through parted lips. Your hands continue to slide down his cock to circle around the base, stroking him firmly.

"Oh fuck, that’s it. Keep going, baby, I’m close already", Lo‘ak mutters under his breath, eyes squeezed shut to focus all of his senses on the pleasure you provide. You feel his cock throb in your palms, clear droplets of pre-cum joining your spit and serving as lubricant to make your strokes become more fluidly.

"J-Just like that", he breathes out, his hips raising up to fuck into your fist, "G-Gonna come, haa– fuck, fuck!"

"Some metkayina men would kill for this, you know", you remark with a mischievous smile, "And you get it for free."

Lo‘ak doesn't respond to that, but that’s okay. You don’t expect him to. His mind is drawing blank and he begins to feel a nervous excitement, a pressure in his ribcage, making it harder for him to breathe properly. Heat boils in his core and his breathing hitches when you move your hand faster, harder.

You watch his hands flex, pulling at the restraining cords around his wrists and his toes curl as he nears the edge of his climax.

"Almost there, Lo‘ak", you coo, "You’re so close aren’t you? Does it feel good, hm? You like that?"

"Yes, yes,– fuck, yes! So good, so fucking good", he moans, before lifting his head up as much as he can to watch you from his current position, already imagining how pretty you will look when he comes, spilling his cum onto your face and chest.

But the sweet bliss he was chasing so desperately was suddenly ripped away from him entirely, when both of your hands leave his cock abruptly. It causes him to gasp like you just stole the very air from his lungs.

"N-No! No, what- what are you doing!?", Lo‘ak curses, his head falling back against the soft sand. "Why did you stop?" His chest heaves and his cock visibly throbs in the air, even more pre-cum leaking from it’s tip now that it’s all swollen and purple, begging for relief.

"And here I thought I was the spoiled one", you say cheerfully, "but look at you. You’re such a mess, and all that just because I didn’t let you get what you wanted…"

Lo‘ak frowns, taking in your words, but then you move as if you’re going to touch him again, and his hips rise towards your hand, instinctively bucking up for the friction he’s been denied.

You giggle at the pathetic sight of him trying to reach your hands, simultaneously struggling against his restraints, before his body falls slack, laying back flat against the sand.

Lo‘ak tries and fails to bite back a small, heartfelt whimper of frustrated need. His cheeks are flushed bright red by now. He really looks cute when he’s frustrated like this, you think to yourself, before you actually reach down and give him a firm tug.

Another moan falls from his lips at the unexpected touch, but it soon turns into more whining when you begin to move your hand in an up and down motion, picking up the same pace where you had left earlier. Lo‘ak slowly begins to squirm underneath your touch, his abs flexing with every stroke of your palms and his thighs twitch. A thin layer of sweat makes his lean body shine in the sunlight, as your restless pace sends his mind into overdrive.

"C-Coming", he forces out between broken whimpers, "m‘coming, m‘coming!"

You feel how he stirs in your palm and right when he’s about to fall apart, you pull your hand away yet again, earning yourself a loud groan of desperation. "What the— f- ah! Fuck", he whines and curses at the loss of another orgasm, squirming when the feeling of euphoria epps away once more.

"I need to come, I really need to come", he nearly sobs when your fist closes around his shaft not shortly after. You’re barely moving now, just teasing the slit of his cock with your thumb, smearing his pre-cum over his most sensitive parts. "Don’t stop now, please. I- I was so close, baby. Please I‘m already begging, I just… Let me come this time." Your fingers ghost over his length before you properly hold him again, hand closing tight around his shaft and his hips jerk up in attempt to help him get there.

"So needy", you whisper, scooting even closer as your hand continues to pump his throbbing length. You’re close enough now that your lips brush over his jawline and he inhales a shaky breath once your face comes close to his. Lo‘aks eyes are half lidded as he stares at you, lips slightly parted before you give him the command, "Open up, pretty boy", to which he dutifully sticks his tongue out and both of your eyes follow the clear droplet of spit fall from your tongue onto his.

Humming in satisfaction, you watch him swallow, groaning at the taste, while you move your hand just a little faster. Call it a little treat for his obedience.

With your other hand now resting on his cheek, you swipe your thumb across Lo‘aks lips, wiping away a stray smear of drool, partly yours and partly his own.

"This is mine", you whisper directly into his ear, tracing the outline of his mouth, and Lo‘ak nods frantically. Kissing away his groan of frustration, you allow him to fuck into your hand for three tantalising, torturous thrusts. His tongue curls around yours, but then you pull away again. "And this", you squeeze his cock tightly, movements haltering and he whimpers, "is mine too, isn’t it?"

Lo‘ak nods for a second time, heavy-lidded and languid and just so desperate in a way he’s never been before.

"And I can do what I want with what’s mine, right?", you tilt your head playfully, amused at the sight of him lifting his head and chasing your lips for another kiss.

"Fuck. Y-Yes!", he whines when all you grant him is a little peck to his bottom lip. "Yes, you can do what you want with me, just please. Please let me come!"

Waiting for his breathing to even out, you finally begin to move your hand again. While you do so, your face nuzzles into his neck, lips tracing his jawline and then moving further up to nibble at the soft shell of his ear. His tail lashes against the ground in anticipation and soon, he’s turned into a moaning mess again. It takes significantly less time to get him close to an orgasm now, you notice. A sharp grin forms on your face as you prop yourself onto your elbows to watch him properly.

"So good, feels so good", Lo’ak’s moans are more quiet now, almost a whisper, like he was scared of being caught. But you felt him pulse in your hand, and his breath hitched hard and that’s all you needed to know.

"Wait– No, no, pl-ah! Please!", Lo’aks whole body seized when the warmth of your touch leaves his cock and yet another orgasm was ruined, leaving him a trembling, cursing mess.

"Oh, c’mon", his frustrated groan immediately turns into a heartbreaking whine, once you retreat your hands entirely. Forced to watch you lick your fingertip clean of his pre-cum, he tugs against his restrains, "I- I want to fuck you, mamas, please. Wanna fuck you so bad. Just let me. I‘ll be so good for you, I’ll make you scream, yeah? I know that’s what you want. Just please. Please, please, I prom—"

"Shhh, it’s okay", you coo into his ear, calming him down enough to make him stop resisting his cuffs. "You’re gonna be good for me, yes? Gonna make me come this time?"

"Oh Eywa, yes. Yes, I- I promise", he stutters, the impatience clear in the strain of his voice, "Untie me, c‘mon, baby."

"Untie you? Oh don’t be silly, paskalin." Your giggle alone is enough to make him shudder, as if his body already knew what his mind was still struggling to process, his brows furrowing as he watched you undress.

"But I thought- I thought you wanted me to—"

"Hmh, I know what I said", you cut him off and the smile on your lips is almost too sweet to be true, "And you will make me come this time. I know it, because I’ll make sure it‘ll happen."

And then you rise up, leg slung over his chest to straddle him, and his hazy golden eyes darken with intrigue. Still, he lies motionless, waiting. Sliding closer and rising up on your knees, you smirk as Lo‘ak lifts his head just slightly, licking his lips at the sight, before falling back to the sand with a put-upon groan.

"Watch the teeth, yes?", you tease him, tracing your thumb over his pointy canine to which he rolls his eyes.

"Just- fucking sit down, sit on my face, c‘mon", he groans in response. His hips seem to have a mind on their own, because you feel them raise up and thrust into the air, his cock desperately seeking attention.

Twining a hand into his hair, you then angle his head between your legs and finally sink down over him.

A warm puff of breath, and then his tongue flicks over your folds, a tickling caress. A delicate kiss, and then he sets to work.

The quickly cooling saliva against your hot skin gives a pleasant sensation, and Lo’ak uses his tongue to part your folds. You squirm and pant beneath him, voice cracking as you attempt to voice your approval. He curves his tongue into a point, flicking and kissing at your most sensitive parts and you begin to shake above him, all needy moans and senseless affirmations, hips rocking down to meet his mouth.

Soon enough, you grind against the flat of his tongue, his nose and the upper half of his face like you’re riding a damn pali. The rest of him lies supine, but his tongue and lips move in practiced tandem, his purrs of satisfaction running through you in turn. “Hmm, just like that", you sigh, hand tightening in his braided hair, the other dropping behind you to steady yourself against his chest.

"You’re so damn delicious", Lo‘ak groans underneath you, the vibration of it sending waves of pleasure from your core all the way up your spine, your tail trashing and curling while he slurps up your slick arousal like it’s warm honey. It’s like he’s making out with your clit at one point and you can’t help but hump against his puckered lips. You throw your head back when he begins to suck rather harshly, his spine curving and twisting uncomfortably to meet your needs, but he couldn’t care less in this moment.

Normally he’s all teeth and bite, fangs grazing your skin and nipping on the inside of your thighs, sinking into your soft flesh until glossy, wet bite marks indent. Teasing you whenever you struggled to cover them up, and on some days, gladly taking a fight with Ao’nung once your loincloth moves around too much and your big brothers gaze lands on the faint marks on your inner thigh, claiming you to the forest boy that was playing with you like you’re nothing but a little doll. (Oh, how the table had turned…)

But right now he’s messy, filthy and sloppy and eating you out like he was starving. Flat nose pressed hard against your clit, he switched between tongue-fucking you and lapping at your clit, sucking the little bundle of nerves like he’s aiming to make you pass out.

"Yes, fuck, there– right there!"

Lo‘ak hums in acknowledgement, and then you give a last, sharp cry, hips jerking down against his face as you fall apart on top of him. Between your thighs, you feel him groan and curse and you hear the downright obscene slurping, like he enjoys drowning in your sweet juices. You stay put for as long as your body allows, floating in the endorphin high of the long awaited orgasm you had chased and been denied for weeks now, until your legs begin to tremble and the kitten licks to your clit start to feel a little overwhelming.

Lo‘ak draws in a shuddering breath as soon as he was able to, and it turns into a moan halfway through as your hand was back on his hair, fingertips digging into his scalp as you slowly lift yourself up from his now glistening face. With an equally heaving chest, the both of you look into each others eyes for a moment, panting heavily to catch your breaths.

But while your breathing slowly evens, his seems to turn more rapid. Glancing over your shoulder, your met with a sight that almost makes you feel pity if it wouldn’t look so damn hot.

His cock had leaked so much pre-cum, a small puddle had formed where he laid against his lower stomach, twitching to the rhythm of his heartbeat, the tip an angry color of purple from being edged and then completely ignored, neglected of any touch and further stimulation.

"Please", Lo‘ak heaves in a breathless whisper and you thought there was more to come, but that’s all he seemed to be capable of anymore.

Your orgasm had already drained you to the point that you felt like molten wax, limbs still twitching with the aftershocks, yet you don’t hesitate to scoot back down and straddle his lap with a glint of determination in your eyes.

It’s him who then throws his head back with a loud groan, every muscles of his body tensing, because suddenly, and too fast for him to prepare himself, you line his cock up with your slick entrance and slam yourself down, swallowing all of his length to the base.

"F-Fu-ck", Lo‘ak chokes out, once you sit on him properly, your own body weight and gravity pulling you down further than he thought was even possible, until you were nestled snugly against him, clit kissing his pubic bone. It makes him physically shudder.

"Oh t-thank you! Fuck– thank you. You feel so good, so good", Lo‘ak wheezes, and his cock throbs vividly inside you.

Instead of a verbal response, you decide to let your body do all the talking now. Starting with a pace that he least expected now, you’re moving your hips hard and fast— lifting yourself up and down on Lo‘aks cock and spilling moans that he feels deep to his core. His cock almost slips out each time, before you’re slamming your whole body back down, turning yourself into an equally moaning and whimpering mess.

Below you, Lo‘ak‘s eyes are squeezed shut and his toes curl at the feeling of your tight heat swallowing him over and over again. But even closed, you can clearly see the tears soaking his lashes. He’s so close that it hurts, but it’s a good kind of pain. One, he hopes will finally grant him the orgasm he’s been clinging to like his life depended on it.

"Look", you then tell him. Like the good boy that he was, he slowly forced his eyes open, before you grab his chin with your thumb and index finger and direct his gaze to where your pussy greedily swallows him, stretched around his girth like a little sleeve made just for him to use.

"I am- Fuck! I am looking", he sobs, "You’re g-gonna make me come— please don’t stop! Please!"

Lo‘ak wants to jerk up into you so badly. He wants to break free, flip you over and pound into you, relishing in the way that his hip bones would leave marks from how hard he would thrust into you. He wants to make you cry out his name, scream it for the whole village to hear, so everyone would know that the chief’s spoiled little brat was currently getting all her holes stuffed full to the brim by the outcast.

The sounds you knocked out of his throat were a mixture of groans and whimpers, moans so shamelessly loud, whenever his dick knocked on your cervix like an iron hammer, that it made even himself blush.

He’s close, you could feel it. You hear it in the strain of his voice as he whimpers whatever incoherent stuff comes to his fucked out and fried brain by now.

But you’re close too. And by the great mother if you don’t make this a challenge into coming before he does, just to get your payback��

Making your hips come to an abrupt halt, you stay down against his pelvis, only rotating your hips in circles now, while switching the direction randomly.

"Oh eywa, please", he cries out", Please you– you- I can’t. I can’t take it anymore! Need to come, please move!"

But you continue to grind yourself against him, and Lo’ak feels your cunt pulse, but it’s not nearly enough. With your clit dragging against his skin, you slump forward against his chest and your whole body goes rigid with a shuddering gasp.

Lo‘ak is shuddering, broken sobs and whimpers leaving his parted lips as he begs for you to keep moving, his hips raising up and chasing the friction of your thrusts to return to him. It’s damn near torture- feeling your warm, velvety-like walls squeeze his cock, while you stay completely unmoving on top of him, coming undone without a care for him and his needs.

"C-Coming, I’m coming!", you moan into his ear, your arms encircling his neck and hold him tight as you shamelessly use him to make yourself finish.

And that’s it.

The friction alone and your barely there movements are hardly enough, would normally get him nowhere close, but as sensitive as he was right now they’re enough to make his whole body spam as he finally, finally, thank eywa, comes.

His cock is still buried deep inside your rhythmically-pulsing cunt, pumping rope after rope of his cum inside you as he sobs into the coock of your neck. Soft whimpers of thank you, thank you, thank you are muffled against your skin and it feels like forever and he’s still coming.

"That’s it, just like that. Hmm, m'feeling so warm inside", you coo softly into his ear, your voice laced with a giggle as you feel his cum seep out of your slick entrance, "You’re coming so much. What a good boy you are, filling me up like that. There you go, paskalin, don’t hold back."

You’re not entirely sure Lo‘ak even hears you by that point, but you still keep up the reassurance anyway as you carry on, determined to milk him dry. Your pelvis flexes and your walls seem to massage his cock, squeezing him empty to the last drop until another sob breaks free and tears roll down his face.

Allowing him a moment to catch his breath and collect himself, your soft hands run up and down his chest and then a sigh of incredible relief leaves his lips. It’s enough of a go-ahead for you to finally move, much to his disappointment.

Lo‘aks brows are furrows together lightly, watching with parted lips as his cock slips out of you in the process of getting up and rearranging your clothes. His tail sways lazily, softly tapping against the sand while he patiently waits for you to untie him.

It takes him a moment longer than he would like to admit, before he realizes that this is not happening the way he thought it would.

Reaching for his loincloth, you toss the piece of fabric and also his knife in its sheath next to him. Just barely near enough that he could reach it. Then, and with the biggest, smuggest grin on your face, you untie just one of his wrists.

"You can set yourself free, right?", you ask, but both of you know that’s it’s meant rhetorically. Regardless, your words don’t help ease the sudden tension in his shoulders and the way he looks at you like a lost puppy, utterly confused. His mind was seemingly struggling to understand what was happening, still dizzy from the most intense orgasm he’s ever experienced. It was no surprise to neither of you, that he was a little short of words as he laid there, limp and spent.

Still, you shoot him a playful wink, before turning on your heels to return to the village, leaving him there like a used toy. Looking back over your shoulder one last time, you wave at him and giggle,

"See you later, my spoiled little brat."

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scorpihoe1111 · 2 months

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Astrology Observations: Part 3🎀🩷

Mars aspecting the ASC can give the individual a dominating demeanor, but also mainly depends on which aspect. Ex: Harmonius Aspects (trine/sextile)=Straightforward, honest, stand their ground, strong boundaries, not one to be pushed around. Harsh Aspects (square/opp)= Aggressive, domineering, rude, blunt, obnoxious.

(TW: Death) Your 8H sign and planet may tell you how you pass away. Ex: Gemini moon in the 8H= Lungs, breathing problems, asthma. Moon= emotional turmoil, stress, heart break etc

Asteroids like Medusa (149) or Aphrodite (1388) can show you what people envy about you, what they admire, where they may attempt to bring you shame etc. Ex: Medusa in the 1H can attract envy over their appearance, their aura and demeanor. People could attempt to “humble” these individuals often. Aphrodite in the 2H can make others admire your money, your possessions, may wanna know how you have what you have so they can have it too.

Aphrodite (1388) can result in people not just admiring wherever the house it’s in, but also being malicious and petty over it since they feel they deserve it more.

Lilith in the houses is similar to this, and can result in those around you being annoyed when you do things in regards to the house and sign it is in. Ex: Sagittarius Lilith in the 2H= people could be upset when you relax, when you have fun, when you don’t play by made up rules and standards, when you’re genuinely happy, when you have nice things, when you take a break, when you indulge etc, because they have this mindset of “I never got to do that/have that, why should you”. Lilith in the 1H= people getting annoyed that you may be beautiful and they’re not, painting you as a villain because you’re pretty.

Cancer moons are surprisingly really good with holding boundaries with people in their lives. These people can be lover girls/boys, for sure; but they refuse to let people take advantage of them. Their love, effort and care is reserved for those who will appreciate them in return.

(TW: Mental Health) Take this with a grain of salt since it’s just an observation and not a fact, but those I’ve met with a combo of Scorpio/Gemini in personal planets in a chart are usually diagnosed with BPD, while those I’ve met with either Virgo/Aries/Gemini in a chart combined have usually been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder/OCD. 12H and 8H stelliums I’ve also met have had some sort of mental illness such as BPD or Schizophrenia.

Jupiter in the 1H, Sag/Pisces risings and/or Jupiter aspecting ASC/personal planets usually manage to get out of difficult situations easily. These people easily attract the help they need, the resources to do what they need, the money to get them where they want to be; very easily. Even when people with these placements/aspects get in trouble they usually manage to make it out very easily as well. Jupiter blesses and makes lucky anything it touches.

People think that Mercury in the 1H might usually talk alot about themselves, and while that may be true; it’s also true that they simply attract people who love to know about them and ask questions in regards to them. Mercury 1H individuals seem to be interesting to others and peak others curiosity about them. Others find them fascinating, thus constantly asking questions about them.

On the other hand, Mercury 3H individuals may be very close with their siblings, or their siblings can be popular/known/famous which could make the 3H person known for their siblings. This results in the 3H person consistently hearing about their siblings, getting asked questions or discussing topics in regards to their siblings. Same thing with school, this person may have either really good or really bad grades in regards to school so their main conversations with others could be in regards to school topics.

A Virgo rising individual at their worst can be obsessed with popularity/attention/validation (Leo 12H) amongst their peers. They may not come off that way, and they themselves may not even know that they secretly love being in the center. Without realizing, they subconsciously try their hardest to be the best at everything, the smartest, the prettiest/handsomest, and when at their lowest they have no issue with taking down others who they deem threatening to their spotlight. They can also be secretly judgmental of those who they deem to be lesser, or not as attractive than they are.

Similarly, I’ve noticed Scorpio Risings at their worse can be very jealous and insecure individuals as well when it comes to appearances/validation. I’ve noticed this in women with this placement mostly, but when they’re at their lowest/undeveloped, they’re the type to only be friends with or surround themselves around people they think are worse than they are whether appearance, status, popularity wise etc. Undeveloped Scorpio rising females can be very competitive and refuse to have someone who’s possibly better than they are around them, since they don’t want to be compared to the other person or not chosen/not the favorite.

Libra moon’s are the people that start the drama and then say “I don’t like drama” lol. What they really mean is they love it, as long as they’re not involved

If you find that you always have bad experiences with those whose signs fall in your 11H, check your sidereal chart. Odds are your 11H sign in your western chart is the 12H sign in your sidereal, which would explain the bad experiences.

Aquarius women are always so successful in everything they do, I’ve rarely met an Aquarius woman that doesn’t have their shit together in every category. They’re giving face, body, money, career, healthy love life and social life etc. The men on the other hand…

Yes, those with Saturn in the 7H have a hard time finding the one. They go through years of cycles and repetitive situations in love but those who find their person find their FOREVER person. People with this placement may be the last to be in a relationship/get married amongst their peers, however they’re usually the happiest and most successful once they do compared to friends or family who just hurried up and settled and usually separate/divorce. Saturn 7H’s standards and boundaries may also seem to high or unrealistic to those around them, but they’re just asking for bare minimum. It only seems that way to others around them because they were raised in a group or environment that had no standards low key.

The good thing about 2H stelliums is that you attract money, possessions and success super easily. The bad thing is that those around you could ONLY see you as your success/money, and may try to bleed you dry of what you have and take advantage. Strong boundaries and not being overly giving is recommended with these placements.

Mars in the 12H can attract people who are secretly aggressive or hostile towards them. They may never know someone is holding a grudge on them and they may attract secret animosity or competition as a result. May have issues with male figures in their life and won’t even know it.

Jupiter in the 6H, especially with Cancer or Libra there; get along with animals sooo well. These are literal pet whisperers and it’s rare for them to not have at least 3 cats/dogs. They love animals more than people sometimes.

Part 4 will be out soon. 👏🏻

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ellemj · 6 months

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Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 6

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**Read parts 1-5 first for the full effect!**

Summary: Bucky doesn't want to take advantage when you're no longer feeling the effects of the chemical, even if he's still feeling them.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, oral sex, profanity, angst, sex pollen (dubcon), mutual pining, dirty talk, kinda cockwarming, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with the warnings <3

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.

Word Count: 3.3k

Author's Note: AHHHH ngl I had butterflies down deeep while writing certain parts of this, I hope it was worth the wait for y'all. For the millionth time this week, thank you for all of the likes, reblogs, comments, asks, EVERYTHING. I wouldn't be writing this without you amazing people.

Everything hurts. You feel like you ran a marathon, hit the gym, and then rolled down a mountainside. After a few seconds of being completely still, you realize it isn’t pain from the chemical compound. No, it’s just the after effects of the night that you’ve had. It’s the kind of soreness that you should expect to have after a night of sex with someone like Bucky, and after all of the intense physiological chaos that the chemical exposure caused. You don’t feel any cramping, stinging, or unbearable discomfort anymore. Breathing out a sigh of relief, you focus in on your current position. You lay on your side, dressed in only your t-shirt and Bucky’s dog tags, with his body so close behind you that you can feel the increasingly familiar warmth of breath fanning across the side of your neck. You’re worried that the way you’re feeling right now might be temporary. What if the chemical hasn’t fully cleared out of your system yet? Or worse, what if it has? What happens when Bucky wakes up and you both have to face each other after everything that’s happened tonight?

You shake the anxiety-laden thoughts from your mind and decide the best way to soothe yourself is to check the time. Time is going to be the best indicator of how likely it is that the chemical has run its course for you. Unbeknownst to you, when you lean over and retrieve your phone from the bedside table, you moving those mere three inches away from Bucky interrupts his slumber. He blinks his eyes a few times as the dim screen of your phone becomes visible over your shoulder. 5:03 am. It’s been nine hours since you were both exposed. You recall Banner’s estimates, remembering him saying that it could last 8-10 hours for you and 8-12 hours for Bucky. How you’re feeling combined with it having been nine hours since exposure, you’re sure now that it’s worn off for you. Or at least worn off enough that you won’t be jumping your partner anymore. You set your phone back down on the table and rest your head on your pillow once more, remaining on your side. Maybe you can get another two or three hours of sleep before the team starts calling to check in with you both.

Bucky, however, won’t be going back to sleep. Though he lays behind you with his eyes shut and his face giving the impression that he’s asleep, his lower half is very much awake and it’s keeping the rest of him awake now. He doesn’t know for sure if it’s worn off for you yet, but if it hasn’t, it will very soon. Why does the thought of that make him almost sad? He shouldn’t want more of what went down tonight. God, he wishes he didn’t want more. But with you lying inches away from him, wearing that damn t-shirt and his dog tags, and your panties probably still on the bathroom floor…all he can think about is repeating every second of the last time he was inside of you. It replays in his mind in flashes. You let him slide into your tight, wet cunt when you’d barely woken up and then you moaned his name before he was even fully inside you. You let him take his time, you didn’t rush him one bit as he memorized the way your pussy gripped his shaft and drew him in for more every time he tried to pull out. And fucking hell, when you leaned back into him and hooked your leg over his, giving him the perfect angle to please you. Yet somehow, all of that was background noise when you kissed him. You kissed him. He thought working his name out of your pretty little mouth was the triumph of the night, until he tasted your lips.

He can’t ignore how hard he is any longer. Not when you’re lying there without anything underneath your t-shirt and especially not when his mind is giving him a slow-motion replay of the events that occurred just over an hour ago. He wants to find his relief in you, but he fears that you’re no longer under the influence of the chemical that gifted him with the best night of his life. He won’t take advantage. With it being so close to the ten-hour mark, he can’t bring himself to ask you for anything more than what you’ve already given him. He’ll take care of this one himself.

You feel Bucky shift on the bed behind you a few minutes after you’ve set your phone back down on the bedside table. You stay still, hoping he’s just moving in his sleep to get more comfortable and that he isn’t really waking up after so little sleep. He has to be exhausted at least as much as you are, if not more. He needs sleep. When you feel cool air seeping into the covers, you know he’s not lying behind you anymore. You sit up quickly, turning your head to see Bucky standing beside the bed, pulling his boxers on in the dark. The feeling that spreads over you can only be described as dread. Did it wear off early for him? Is he going back to his bed to sleep through the rest of the morning now that he has no need for you anymore? Why does it bother you so damn much that he’s about to walk out of this room?

“Bucky?” He freezes at the sound of his name leaving your lips in such a soft, timid tone. You sound worried and he hates it. His back is to you so you haven’t seen the way his cock is once again fighting to escape the confines of his boxers, you don’t see the way his cheeks are flushed or the way sweat is glistening across his forehead. He can make it out of here before you notice any of it.

“Go back to sleep. You can probably get a few more hours in before Sam and Fury want to hear from us.” Why does he sound so distant? And why the hell won’t he turn around and look at you? You feel utterly sick now. After what you both did last night, he can’t even look at you. Can you blame him? God, you were so fucking stupid. Where did all of your self-control go? You were supposed to lock yourself in the bedroom and ride it out alone, not ride it out on him. Suddenly, his dog tags feel heavy around your neck. Bucky takes two steps toward the door, still refusing to look at you.

“Wait.” You remove the dog tags from around your neck, holding the chain in your palm as you climb out of bed. He sighs but still doesn’t turn to you. What a fucking ass. “These are yours.” You say softly, walking to the foot of the bed and holding them out. He takes two more steps forward, stopping once he’s in front of you. You hold out the dog tags, studying them as they sway above his open palm. As you watch the metal tags collide with his skin, you feel hollow inside. You can be as cool and as calloused as him, you decide. You’re about to turn on your heel and climb back into bed, alone, when you mistakenly let your eyes drift down to the front of his tented boxers. The chemical hasn’t cleared his system yet.

He knows you know now. He watches as your expression changes from one that he couldn’t quite decipher to one that he’s become fond of tonight: need. It’s different this time though. You don’t need him to fuck you. Instead, you feel the need to take care of him. You don’t want him to suffer through these last couple of hours. You can’t let him suffer after all of the ways he helped you.

“Bucky...” Your voice trails off as you turn your gaze up to his face. He’s looking into your eyes but instead of seeing his blue irises painted on with a lust-tinged brush, you see the hard, stoic look he’s always had around you.

“I said you should go back to sleep.” He reminds you, his fist tightening around the dog tags that remain in his flesh hand. Why is he acting like this now? You should feel hurt, maybe even embarrassed that this is how he’s treating you after everything you did with him, but the only thing you feel is anger that he’d walk away now. That he’d walk away when he’s so clearly in need of something that you can give him. You’re contemplating what to say to start the argument that’s about to take place, but you know words won’t be enough to make him stay. Not when he has that cold look in his eye.

Bucky’s frozen in place when you get down on your knees.

“Y/n…” His warning tone doesn’t do shit to stop you. You’re already on the floor, sliding your hands from his knees, up the fronts of his thighs, and then lightly raking your fingertips back down to where you started. You think you can almost feel him trembling at your touch. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Everything else I did tonight was because I needed to do it. I’m doing this because I want to.”

That was it. Somehow, he thinks that’s the best thing you’ve ever said to him. Now, as you pull his boxers down at a painstakingly slow pace, that lust-filled look is back where it belongs, clouding his gaze as he watches you intently. You maintain eye contact as you wrap your hand around his thick length, stroking it once, twice, three times before leaning forward and dragging your tongue over his slit. He watches as you taste his precum. It lights a fire within him that he fears will only be stoked by every fucking thing that you do from now on. He never would’ve thought that the mouth that gives him shit on a daily basis would be wrapped around his cock like it is now. You work your hand over the base of his shaft as you take him further and further into your mouth. You were going to stop halfway and pull back, planning to give him a nice, clean blowjob. But when you make it halfway and look up at him through your eyelashes, the way he’s looking back down at you causes every thought to flee your mind. You relax your throat and take the last few inches in slowly, until you feel your nose brush against his lower stomach and his cock hit the back of your throat. The groan that rips from his chest encourages you to pull back and do it again. You’re about to do it a third time when he fists his vibranium hand in your hair and pulls your head back, forcing his cock out of your mouth. As he looks down at you, your cheeks and nose pink, your eyes watering ever so slightly, his dog tags feel heavy in his right hand. He loosens his grip in your hair and lets his vibranium hand slide over to the side of your face. He runs his thumb across your cheekbone.

You stare up at him with lust and longing written all over your features. Can anyone really blame him for what he’s about to do? Fucking hell, he can’t help himself. He stops stroking your cheek with this thumb and you watch carefully as he fingers the chain of his dog tags in front of your face. Your eyes catch onto the inscription that you’ve rubbed your thumb over so many times tonight: James B Barnes. He gently places the chain back around your neck and then hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him again.

“So fucking pretty with my name around your neck.” He breathes out the words. Now you’re the one trembling. When his hand falls away from your chin, you lose the last shreds of self-control you were clutching onto and place your hands on his thighs as you take him back into your mouth. You bob your head back and forth eagerly, loving the breathy groans and curses that fall from his lips every time he hits the back of your throat. Still, you want to give him more. You reach up and grab his flesh hand, guiding it to the back of your head as you still yourself with only the tip of his cock resting in your mouth. He narrows his eyes at you, knowing what you’re about to let him do but not completely sure that you can take it. He was just about to ask you if you were sure, when you gave him the most innocent look that he’s ever seen, and then he was ruined. He tangles his fingers in the hair at the crown of your head and forces you to take every inch of him in. He holds you there for two seconds, trying harder than he ever has to keep from cumming when he feels your throat tighten as you gag on his cock. You let him take complete control, guiding your head back and forth at the pace he chooses. It takes less than a minute for him to nearly come undone. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth and you don’t have any plans to make him stop. You hope he’ll cum in your mouth. Of course, he abruptly pulls your head back before he finishes. But he doesn’t stop there. He pulls you to your feet using his hold on your hair and shoves you onto the bed.

“Shirt off, now.” He commands, his chest heaving as he runs a hand through his messy hair. In an instant, your shirt is on the floor and you’re sitting on the bed with your weight resting back on your hands. He crawls over you while stroking his cock in his right hand, and you follow your instincts, lying down underneath him as he leaves you no other choice. Your legs spread and you find yourselves in the missionary position, just like the first time you fucked. “You were going to let me cum in your mouth, weren’t you?” He asks, bracing himself with his arms on the bed on either side of your head and leaning in close to you. He leaves wet kisses just underneath your jaw as he patiently waits for a response.

“Yes.” You answer honestly. Your eyes are nearly rolling back in your head at how good he is with his mouth. His lips feel so soft against your skin and you just want to taste him again. You let your hands travel up his sides, over his chest, and then you rest them along the sides of his jaw, pulling his mouth to yours. He captures your lips with his, your mouths moving in tandem as heat begins to spread throughout your body.

“Would you have swallowed?” Bucky wonders aloud, breaking the kiss to look into your eyes. You stare up at him as a playful smile turns up the corners of your lips.

“Every drop.”

The words have barely left your mouth when you feel Bucky lining his cock up with your entrance. You moan before he’s even inside of you and he can’t stop the smirk that spreads across his face. He has you wrapped around his finger in this perfect, unforgettable moment. He forces his cock inside you, his head falling down to the crook of your neck as he bottoms out.

“Fuck, Y/n. It’s so good, I can’t…” His voice is tense as his sentence goes unfinished. He’s not even thrusting into you, he’s just grinding his hips in circles, letting his cock rub against the walls of your pussy. “I just want to stay like this.” He groans. For a second, you wonder if he means that he wants to physically stay like this or if he means something else entirely.

“God, Bucky…” You start grinding up into him just like he’s grinding down into you and within seconds, you’re a wreck beneath him. “Please, fuck me.” He can’t deny you. He starts fucking his cock into you, obsessed with the way you pull him tighter against your chest with every thrust. Bucky was already seconds away from cumming when you were sucking him off, but now he’s hanging so far over the edge that he can feel himself losing control. You can sense how far gone he is as he buries his cock in you with what can only be described as pure primal need.

“Shit. Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He groans, nipping at your collarbone as the headboard begins to knock against the wall. You wrap your legs around his waist and snake your hand down between the two of you, rubbing your clit to ensure that you’ll cum at the exact same time as him. You want him to feel the way you clench around him, the way your walls flutter as aftershocks tear through you.

“Oh my god, Bucky. Cum inside me, please fucking cum for me, baby.” The words fall from your lips so freely that someone overhearing would think you’ve been sleeping with each other for months. “Don’t pull out.” Your last words flip a switch inside him and he starts driving his cock into you with so much force that you hear the headboard crack. When he cums inside you just a second later, you fall over the edge right along with him, your orgasm so strong that tears form in the corners of your eyes as he fucks you through it.

That. That was earth-shattering, life-altering sex.

You stay connected like that, with Bucky on top of you and his cum trapped inside of your cunt by his still hard dick, until you both drift off to sleep.

---

There aren’t many things that you hate more than being woken up by your phone ringing. It’s always immediately put you in a bad mood. However, when you wake up this morning to the sound of your phone ringing and vibrating on the bedside table, you find yourself tangled up with Bucky. Completely naked.

Fuck. You’re facing each other, with your leg hitched over his hip and his thigh pressed against your wet pussy. Wet? Holy shit, it’s his cum. His cum has been steadily dripping out of you since you fucked earlier, and with the position you’re in, it’s been dripping out of you and onto the skin of his thigh. With the light of early morning starting to peek through the curtains across the room, you can see Bucky clearly now. He’s scrunching up his face in annoyance at the sound of your phone ringing. Shit, your phone. You twist your upper body and retrieve your phone from the bedside table, tapping on the screen to answer it before checking to see who’s calling.

“Tell me you both made it through the night.” Sam’s voice fills your ear and Bucky must hear it too, because his eyes snap open in an instant. He doesn’t move and you can see the wheels in his mind turning as he goes through the same mental gymnastics you just went through about your positions and what exactly is on his thigh right now. You bite your lip so you won’t let out a laugh.

“We made it through the night.” You tell Sam, your voice raspy from the various moans and screams you let out last night.

“And you’re both okay?” He asks.

“We’re fine.”

“I tried calling Bucky first because I know he never sleeps, but he didn’t answer.” Bucky’s eyes widen as he overhears Sam’s words. He didn’t answer because he slept in your bed, and his phone is still back in his own bedroom.

What the hell are you going to say to Sam?

Next Part

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #marvel #bucky barnes smut #mcu

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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months

Text

DC x DP: Dog Walker

Danny needs someone to walk his dog.

He had been in Gotham for about five months when it became apparent he needed companionship.

Ever since Clockwork and Frostbite came to the same decision to move Danny to a new universe for his health- his core was deteriorating due to his obsession being fulfilled as Amity Park was safe, and everyone was ready to grow up and move on.

So Danny moved to a rough city in a harsh universe so that the danger could help his core restart his obsession.

The first few weeks were fine; he even found work as a computer program designer that allowed him to work from home thanks to his universe's advanced technology, but soon, he struggled with loneliness and homesickness—that was where his dog came into the picture.

He adopted Equinox- Nox for short- from the local shelter, and while Nox was a mutt with unknown parents, Danny had no trouble taking care of him.

That was until he accepted a job offer at Wayne Enterprise, and his work hours shifted from remote work seven days a week to four days. He wasn't stimulating Equinox properly by keeping him inside the three days he was out and his poor boy was suffering from it.

This could have easily be solved with a pet sitter or just a dog walker but this is Gotham. Danny knows he picked this place for its constant danger to keep his obsession active but he just wasn't expecting Gotham to be so...much.

He had a panic attack just thinking about what would happened to Nox if he trusted just anyone to take care of him.

Nox is the only living being that is under his Protection. It went against his very Instincts to not find someone he trusted utterly to walk him.

Danny checks his phone to see Nox peaceful sleeping in his doggy bed and sighs. His boy has been sleeping more and more lately, losing his bright spark.

"Whats wrong Danny?" Karla, one of the Office interns, asks from where she is walking along side him.

"Nothing, it's just my dog needs to go for a walk, and I'm not there to give him one." He says, turning the screen. "I wish I can have some one walk hin for me-"

"Understood. I shall pick up your dog tomorrow, Fenton," a tiny voice cuts in. The two turn around only to look down at the green eyes of Damian Wayne. His bosses' son and brother. Oh boy.

"Ugh, I'm sorry?" He blinks as the youngest, Wayne thrusts a piece of paper at him. Danny has no choice but to hesitantly takes the paper. On it is a professional if short resume belonging to Damian that highlights his skillset and community service.

"Father has informed me of the family tradition started by our Pennyworth. Every Wayne gets a part-time job from twelve to grow character." The boy says, hands behind him and back straight, appearing every bit his status. Also, it is like a little kid trying to appear as an adult. Danny found it kind of cute, and it reminded him of Jazz. "I have multiple experiences with animals, as you can see from volunteering at the local shelters. My fees for my services are also meager and would surely not be difficult to cover."

Danny's core turned cold, but not in the wrong way. It was a cooling sensation he had associated with a fun day of either a snowball fight or the fresh first fall. He knew he could trust the boy.

"You know what? Yeah I love it if you walked my dog. In fact would you be interested in being a dog sitter?"

The boy's green eyes brightened with childish glee, but he tried to remain serious. Danny's heart melted at the sight. Oh, he should call Jazz soon. "That would be most acceptable."

Unknown to Danny, Karla, or Damian, Dick Grayson watched the trio as his brother handed one of the most mysterious employees a resume. Now, why would Fenton want to be close to Damian?

Over the last few months, people have been trying to take advantage of Damian because they thought his brother stupid for his mixed blood, just as they did when Bruce first took him in.

Danny doesn't mind Alfred's rule to find a part-time job to help teach them values, but he finds people aren't as kind as they should be. He'll have to keep an eye on this Danny Fenton.

Maybe he can help co-sit his dog.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Dog walker #part 1 #death defying #Danny is sus for thinking Damain adorable right off the bat #but its because he reminds me him of Jazz

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thornsnvultures · 11 months

Text

everything I want...

bucky barnes x plus size!avenger!reader

summary: being sent on a mission with bucky should be a piece of cake, but he's been acting strange around you for weeks now and you have no clue why.

cw: SMUT, fingering, oral sex (fem rec), shower sex, p in v sex (unprotected), creampie, breath play, breeding kink, pregnancy/lactation kink (very little), possessive pervy bucky (he gets a bit feral in this one), solo masturbation mention (m), steve rogers meddling being a great wingman, angst with a happy ending, 4.4k words

a/n: my entry for the lovely @nickfowlerrr 's seven deadly sins event 🖤 Lust is the sin I chose for this fic and really it was an excuse to write filth lol I really hope you enjoy it! (and a quick thanks to everyone who encouraged me to keep going, this fic wouldn't be here without you)

18+ MINORS DNI

-----

"You'll be with Barnes for this mission. Get in, get out, no big deal. We've done this before and it doesn't look like it'll be much of a problem."

Steve smiles politely at you as he hands you the briefing folder with all the info on where you'll be going and why.

"If it's so easy why doesn't Barnes go alone?"

You regret opening your mouth as soon as the words come out, choosing to bite your lip and open the folder instead of looking at Steve's patented Look of Disapproval.

"Be ready and on the jet in two hours," Steve sighs.

"Yes, Captain."

Steve marches out of the room, always moving like a man on a mission even when he's not on one. No, this one's just you and Bucky. The man who's been avoiding you like the plague the last few weeks. Someone who you thought was at least a friendly acquaintance, a close colleague maybe.

He went from joking with you on the jet and bringing you coffee when he got one for himself from the canteen, to not even looking at you. Like even daring to lift his head when you walked by would get him booted from the team and sent back to Hydra.

You wouldn't say the two of you were close, but being a part of this team, working with these people; it was hard making friends with people who didn't understand, who didn't live on the compound. Sure there were SHIELD agents you saw here and there at the gym or around medical or the offices. But you saw Bucky damn near every day since you joined the team. And now out of the blue he was pretending like you didn't exist.

It didn't help that you had a not so teeny tiny crush on the man either.

Maybe this mission was a peace offering, Steve's way of getting the two of you to rebuild, reconnect. For the betterment of the team...or whatever. The sooner you got it done, the sooner you could get home and get away; from Bucky and from your own hurt feelings.

-----

Steve was right, the mission didn't take long at all. You were able to get in and get out with the information you needed with little to no fuss. Barnes was the perfect partner to watch your six with the way he was avoiding you and it totally didn't bother you that he hadn't said a word to you outside of what was strictly necessary. Totally.

When you got back to the hotel, Bucky got on the phone with Steve right away, still avoiding. He did need to call Steve to debrief, but he wasn't even saying much, just standing there with the phone to his ear, grunting every now and then.

Frustrated, you sat on the edge of the bed and pulled of your boots. Bucky was facing the window, looking over the city. The hotel room was modest, but modest for Tony Stark's standards was still luxurious and you wanted to take advantage of the shower that was practically the size of your bedroom back home before you guys left. You weren't waiting for Bucky to shower first.

"I'm taking a shower," you called out. Bucky made a noise but didn't turn around. His back muscles shifted against the tight black tshirt he wore when he shrugged at something Steve must've said over the phone. You couldn't hear what they were discussing but you could sense Bucky's tension from across the room. From the way he looked you'd think the mission was a failure, that he was reporting back with terrible news even though you know everything went well. Your fingers itched to rub soothing circles over his back, ease some of that tension away...

Shower, think of the shower. He doesn't deserve it.

Once you figured out which knobs controlled which of the four differently angled shower heads, you hopped in. Your clothes lay discarded on the sink as steam filled the room. It was heavenly. You'd have to ask Tony about installing a system like this in your apartment.

As you soaped up with the hotel body wash, your mind started to wander to the same person it always seemed to these days.

Part of why Bucky's sudden rejection was so painful was how much you'd grown to care about him. It felt silly, having a crush like this at your grown ass age, but that's what it was. Your stomach fluttering, your heart racing. You hoped he didn't know just how much he affected you every time he brought you coffee or talked to you or sat near you in a meeting.

Maybe that's why he's been avoiding you, maybe he caught on and...he doesn't feel the same way. Maybe he's trying to put distance between the two of you so you'd get the hint.

God, how embarrassing. You stand there with your hands on your chest, over your breaking heart, and try to hold it together instead of blabbering like a baby.

Of course he doesn't want you. He's a super soldier, practically a God. And he's been through so much. He's not the type to want a...girlfriend right now, especially someone on the team.

Suds drip from your breasts as you try to finish your shower, bending over to scrub your feet while you try not to cry. It's silly, silly and stupid. But you were hoping that even if he didn't like you that way, that you wouldn't lose a friend too.

The thought of him never speaking to you again makes a tear finally fight its way free and you choke out a sob as it falls down your cheek. You hope the pounding water is enough to mask your choking sobs but who knows. Your emotions are all over the place. You can't seem to stop crying and you're angry. Angry at Steve for putting you on this mission, angry at your tears and angry that Bucky might be totally lost to you.

-----

Bucky can smell you.

He stands by the hotel window, holding the bridge of his nose like that'll make it stop. It never does. You're always there, invading his senses. Not just your body wash or the shampoo you use, or the heavy floral stuff the hotel has stocked up in the bathroom. He's trying not to imagine you using the individually wrapped bars of soap to lather yourself up not twenty feet away from him, but just like his hand on his nose, nothing helps.

No, even under all the artificial stuff, it's you that drives his senses wild. Something encoded in your goddamn DNA that fries his brain.

It took him a while to figure out what it was that made it hard to be around you. He could ignore it at first, when you first joined the team. He was still fresh himself, finally coming back to be a do-gooder with Steve and the team after talking time to heal and scrape away what was left of Hydra's programming. There wasn't time to acknowledge the way his dick twitched every time you entered the room. It wasn't appropriate. And Steve would kick his ass for chatting up the newcomer anyway.

But as the weeks and months drew on, as he found himself getting more comfortable, more used to a routine that always seemed to revolve around you, he couldn't ignore it.

He felt like a dog in heat. Most of the time he could manage it, but there were days out of every month where he'd scramble for the nearest bathroom, broom closet, empty meeting room, anything after being with you for even five minutes so he could relieve himself. Biting his lip until he bled to keep from cursing your name as he worked his fist over his cock until there was nothing left.

It was maddening, the shift in your scent. He craved you constantly, but those times when his needs couldn't be ignored he felt out of control. Like he was a snap of your fingers away from becoming him again.

It wasn't until you left your phone unattended in the compound gym that things started to make sense.

You had been chatting on the treadmill with a SHIELD agent. Bucky pretended to be focused on his workout while he listened in to your conversation. Your agent friend was talking about her and her partner trying for a baby so you recommended a period tracker app that you had been using for a while.

"It's great! After you've been using it for a few months it can predict when you'll be ovulating for max baby making potential."

Your friend laughed at the saucy tone in your voice, Bucky nearly dropped the massive dumbell he was curling on his foot. Images of you, breasts heavy and leaking, swollen and pregnant with his child was all he could see. And fuck him, he wanted it, needed it, craved it.

So when your friend was gone and you hopped off the treadmill momentarily in search of your water bottle, leaving your phone behind, Bucky took his chance to sneak a quick look.

It was all right there. He remembers the last day he could smell you so strongly he could barely stand it. He almost got caught in the gym showers, slamming a crack into the tile wall when he came so hard his vision went black with the scent of you burned in his brain. He didn't see you for two days after that but when he did there was a coppery edge to your scent. And the app on your phone proved it.

You were ovulating. Your body was practically screaming for him, demanding that he do what he was made to do and breed your sweet cunt. His need to rut into you, to bury himself deep and pump you full of his cum over and over, no matter how long it took until it sticks, finally made sense.

Bucky already knew he cared for you, but he didn't want to scare you, overwhelm you. He wanted to do right by you, take you on dates, show you how special you are to him. But this feral need to claim you wasn't stopping any time soon either. Maybe, he thought, he should give you some space. Give whatever this feeling was done distance and it would calm down. Then...then he could tell you how he felt. He needed to clear your scent from his mind before he was trapped in a constant state of relieving himself by his own hand month after month, wasting what belonged to you in tissues and shower drains.

-----

So he stayed away, for an entire month at that, before Steve got sick of his shit excuses and put the two of you on this mission together.

"Whatever's going on with you two, you need to work it out. We're not in forth grade any more, Buck, you can't pretend a girl has cooties just cause you feel weird about liking her."

Bucky tensed as he heard her boots fall to the floor behind him.

"I don't-"

"Don't bullshit me, Bucky."

"Language," Bucky's lip quirked, almost a smile.

"I'm taking a shower," you called from the other side of the room. Bucky grunted, not trusting himself to say anything more. He could feel your eyes on him.

"Just talk to her. I know what you're gonna say, she deserves better than a jerk like you. But she doesn't deserve the cold shoulder."

Bucky shrugged, forgetting that Steve couldn't see him. He heard the bathroom door click shut and his forehead dropped against the window.

"You don't get it, Steve. She's different. I can't control myself around her. I'm hanging on by a thread here."

Steve sighs and says something else but Bucky barely hears it over the sound of running water and your clothes hitting the floor.

"Bucky, you there?"

Shit.

"Sorry, I should...I gotta go."

"She likes you too, idiot." A part of him knew but hearing it out loud felt surreal. "I got the same senses you do. Better even," Bucky shakes his head at Steve's teasing, "I can hear her pulse pick up when she looks at you, how her breathing changes. How she sits close to you, touches you whenever she can."

Bucky shivers thinking of your hands on him, pulling him into your shower with you, letting him get close enough to touch you the way he's dying to touch you.

"And you know I can smell how wet she gets when y-"

"Watch it, Rogers," Bucky snaps with a growl in his throat.

"Then get your shit together, Barnes! She wants you too, you're not gonna scare her off."

Bucky wants to tell Steve he doesn't have any idea what he's talking about when he hears what sounds like crying coming from the bathroom.

"Alright, if you're done playing matchmaker I gotta go."

Bucky hangs up before Steve can say another word and tosses his phone on the bed. Before he can think better of it his boots are off and he's pulling his shirt up and over his head. His heart is being torn to shreds with every sob that shudders through thin walls and he has the sinking feeling that it's all his fault.

-----

You don't hear the bathroom door open, but you feel the rush of cool air hitting your back. Before you can wipe away your tears and yell at Bucky for coming in before you were finished, he's right there. His hands grip your waist and turn you around.

"Bucky.

"Shh, I've got you."

He pulls you in, crushing you to his bare chest in a fierce hug. You don't know what's happening or why but he's here. Finally he's here and you're not gonna do a thing to stop it.

Your face is still wet with tears when he kisses you, consumes you, more like. His lips, teeth, tongue invading your mouth and begging you to open up and let him take all of you. You're shaking when he lets you go long enough to breathe, but his hands don't let you go, only wrapping around tighter and lifting you up against his broad chest when he feels your legs go weak.

It's everything you've every dreamed of, there's no way it's real. He's naked for fuck's sake. You can see his discarded jeans on the floor by the door, feel the evidence of his nudity pressing long and thick against your thigh.

His lips work down the length of your neck, down your chest, to suck a puckered, soapy nipple into his mouth. He's looking up at you with those murky blue eyes and your mind goes blank. You don't care why he chose now of all times to see you, to touch you, as long as he doesn't stop, as long as he keeps sucking and licking and biting you just like that. And you really must've hit your head because, fuck, you're already this close to coming and that's never happened before.

Your thighs press together, searching for any kind of friction, as you tug on Bucky's hair. When you pull, his eyes roll back. He groans, the noise shooting straight to your pussy.

Still holding you up with one hand, Bucky bullies your thighs apart with the other, spreading you open and on your tip toes so he can slide his fingers over your cunt. Two thick digits slip between your folds and shove into your cunt. You gasp, writhing around his fingers. It's too much, you feel so fucking full you can barely stand it. But Bucky keeps working his fingers, scissoring them, spreading them deep as he pumps them in and out. Your nails scrape against his skin, scrambling across his broad shoulders to find purchase as he brings you careening fast over the edge until you're plummeting, screaming his name as you spasm around his fingers.

He pulls his fingers away and you watch, dazed and panting as he sucks them clean. The way he moans around his fingers nearly has you coming again.

"Bucky, please," you don't know what you're asking for but you don't care. You'll gladly take anything he gives you.

"Need more," he groans, his eyes glazed. "Can I have more, angel?"

You're nodding wildly as he sits you down on the shower bench. Hot water rains down on his back and he's lifting your feet up on the bench so he can keep you spread wide open. His big hands clamp down on your thighs and it would be almost painful if you weren't distracted by the way his mouth latched onto your clit.

"Fuck! Bucky, oh my god," there wasn't any stopping your rambling, begging, pleading. It was too much, too good. Bucky's moans vibrated to your core. He feasted on you like you were his last meal, licking every drop of your juices, sucking each fold before fucking into you with his tongue.

You could think, talk, breathe. All you knew was Bucky's touch as he made you come again. Your legs shook and your back arched and it went on for what felt like forever, this mind blowing pleasure that you almost didn't feel worthy of. That he looked up at you as he cleaned you up with his tongue like you were everything to him in this moment made your eyes well up again for being so emotional.

A look of worry wrinkles Bucky's brow.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

With a shaky hand you brushed back an errant hair from his forehead and caressed his cheek. "No, I'm fine. Sorry, I just get emotional like this before, y'know..." You didn't want say it, especially not to a guy you liked right after he ate you out. It was hard to look at him still sitting there between your legs, your face feeling hotter by the second.

"You mean before your period?"

You sputtered and tried to close your legs. No way, there's no way you're talking about your period with your dream man with your legs spread open like he's your gyno.

"Don't hide from me," Bucky growled. You watched, your jaw dropping, as he nuzzled his nose into your mound at the apex of your sex and breathed in deep, filling his lungs with your scent.

"How did you know?"

"Your phone, you left it open at the gym." Bucky doesn't stop kissing your mound, your belly. It's like he's a cat and you're the catnip. "And I can smell it on you. Your scent changes, gets...deeper somehow. Like you're calling to me."

Suddenly he's lifting you up and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist with a shout of surprise. Bucky grabs one of the giant hotel towels on his way out of the bathroom, carrying you like it's nothing. It is for him, but it's jarring. You always forget that he's not just some guy. Like the fact that his enhanced senses don't just include hearing and sight. Of fucking course he can scent you like a bloodhound.

Bucky lays out the big, fluffy towel and drops you on it, watching with hunger in his eyes as you jiggle when your body bounces on the mattress. You want to cover yourself with your arms and squeeze your legs shut, but you hear his voice in your head.

"Don't hide from me."

Bucky crawls on top of you, his thick arms and broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the room. It's just him and you and this bed. And between you his cock pushes thick and needy against your weeping cunt. His hips twitch as he kisses you, lightly rubbing the thick vein running down his cock through your folds.

"Please, Bucky," you whine against his lips.

His forehead rests against yours briefly before he sits back on his heels. Bucky's heavy-lidded gaze is hungry, staring at the way your cream coats his cock.

"Please don't tease me, Bucky," your plea comes out shaky and unsure. "I can't take it."

Bucky caresses your cheek, tugs at your bottom lip with his thumb.

"If you let me in, I don't think I'll ever leave."

Your brows pinch, your heart hammers away in your throat. You get the feeling he doesn't just mean in the physical sense.

"I don't want you to leave."

Bucky's eyes shut and his jaw clenches and you reach for him. To take his face in your hands so you can pull him close and look into those beautiful blue eyes when he finally thrusts inside. And he lets you.

You hold him in your hands as his whole body shakes. You've never felt so full, so complete, but you need more. If only he'd move, you need him to move.

"Bucky-"

The growl that explodes from deep in Bucky's chest is the only warning you get before he pulls back, nearly all the way out, and slams back in. The force of it shoves the air from your lungs and you can scarcely catch your breath before he does it again and again, picking up pace until he's hammering into you, pounding you into the mattress. His groin grinds against your pelvis with every deep thrust, the thatch of hair there teasing your clit.

Bucky takes you by the throat, tenderly at first, saying, "Look at me. Don't look away, beautiful, keep those eyes open."

It's a struggle but those blue eyes ground you as your mind tries to float away. You don't know what sounds you're making, what you're even saying but Bucky shushes you, tells you he's got you, you're his.

"My pussy. Mine to fill up, right, beautiful? All mine."

You nod your head as best you can with his fingers on your jaw, babbling nonsense. He doesn't slow or stop, that super-soldier stamina helping him keep a brutal pace.

Bucky grabs your right thigh, turning it over so it's on top of your left and holding it there with the hand not on your throat. Your eyes roll back at the way the new position has him grinding against your inner walls. You thought you felt full before, but this is something else entirely.

Your hands fly up to Bucky's forearm, desperate for a part of him to hold on to as he looms over you, taking what belongs to him. His hand on the meat of your thigh tightens as he grunts and groans and you grip at the hand on your throat, silently begging for his gentle hold to tighten too.

His eyes soften, as he shifts his hand and squeezes. This man could end you right here, right now, with a twitch of his finger but he's looking at you like you're delicate, so fucking delicate and it doesn't make any sense. Your brain is fried, everything feels like too much and just right at the same time. Like you're meant to be here under him, full of him, taking everything he gives you.

"God, you're so beautiful."

Your legs shake under his grip and you feel yourself implode. His words ricochet around your head as you come, coating his cock, and the sheets, with your release.

Bucky's grip on your throat loosens and he collapses on top of you, capturing your lips with his, cradling his arms around you. His full weight on top of your twisted, bent body is a welcome pressure. You never want him to leave.

"Mine," he growls again. "Gotta fill you up, breed this sweet little cunt so everyone knows you're mine. I can't hold back anymore. Say it. Say you're mine."

"I'm yours, Bucky," you cry, "all yours. Only yours."

Bucky lifts your right leg up over his shoulder, spreading you wide open. He brings his thick fingers down on your messy cunt with a wet slap and you cry out, shaking as you come again.

"That's it, beautiful. Milk me fucking dry."

Bucky's hips stutter and go still and he shouts, spilling inside you, filling you to the brim.

Bucky lets your leg fall from his shoulder and collapses on top of you. Before he can suffocate you, not that you'd mind, he rolls the two of you onto your side and holds you tight to his chest. You can feel his release slipping out, oozing down your thigh. There's so much, you don't even want to think about the clean up. Not now, not when it's so much easier to think about how good it feels to be here, in his arms.

"You're mine," Bucky whispers into your hair, taking a heavy breath, filling his lungs with your scent.

"All yours," you smile, your cheek pressing against his solid chest.

"I mean it. Not just here, not just tonight. I want to make you mine, angel."

Bucky sounds so serious it almost worries you. You turn your head where it rests on his bicep, trying to not get distracted by how big it is. Those blue eyes of his are soft but searching your face, like he needs you to understand, to know that he means it.

"I want that, Bucky. I want it so bad."

Your voice is quiet but you know he can hear you loud and clear, can hear the desperation in his voice mirrored back in yours.

His big hands roam your body, caressing your breast, your hips, like he wants to touch you everywhere all at once. You help him settle on a place by lifting your leg and curling it over his hip. You can see it on Bucky's face, how much he needs you. The way your combined scents make his nostrils flare, the tightening of his jaw. His fingers leave your hip and delve between the juncture of your thighs, a groan rumbling through his chest.

"Bucky," you pant as his fingers play in the mess he made, slipping in and out of your cunt.

He kisses your forehead, continuing to work you open once again.

"Need to have you again, angel." Bucky doesn't wait for you to respond before he's guiding himself in til you're full to bursting. "Gotta keep you stuffed full, baby."

You shudder at his words, his hands roaming your body.

"I'm yours, Bucky. All yours."

---

🖤

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #my fics

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rhys-writes-some-shit · 4 months

Text

The Dilemma of a Rubber Duck

Alastor x Reader (Queer-Platonic) ft. Bestie Lucifer

(TW: Mentions of depression, mentions of suicide attempts)

You knew Alastor didn’t like Lucifer. You weren’t 100% sure why, only that the King of Hell really got on Alastor’s nerves. Ever since Lucifer had moved into the hotel in the aftermath of the battle with the angels, Alastor had spent hours ranting and raving to you about him. They were constantly trying to one-up each other. It was comical, really.

Except that you were stuck in the middle of it.

Unlike Alastor, you and Lucifer had hit it off right away, getting along like two peas in a pod. There was a certain camaraderie that came with being clinically depressed and still having to force a smile, which both you and Lucifer were experts at. Many late nights had been spent exchanging stories and finding humor in things other people might not otherwise find humorous.

(“I tried to kill myself twice, and then end up getting hit by a car! That’s how I end up in Hell? What did I do all that work for?” That was the first time that story had been met with laughter, and that was when you knew Lucifer was a good guy.)

You were constantly thinking about how Alastor would react to knowing you enjoyed hanging out with Lucifer, or vice versa. It worried you to no end, so you tried to keep your friendship with Lucifer under wraps, for Alastor’s sake. He needed someone to back him up, and you wanted to be that person. You wanted Alastor to know he could trust you.

One evening, you and Lucifer were talking in the parlor, drinking tea. Alastor was out for a fancy Overlord meeting, so you were able to relax a bit.

“I’m so glad we have Niffty around,” you were saying. “Sometimes I just can’t find the energy to do my laundry, but I know that if I leave it on the floor, she’ll take care of it right away.” You thought for a moment. “It’s not like I’m forcing her to do it. Or taking advantage of her. Right?”

“Nah, I thought cleaning was her job,” Lucifer reassured. “My loophole with that is all my outfits are the same. Also magic. Magic is very helpful.”

“Man, I’m jealous!” You gave a lighthearted groan. “I wish I could have magic like that.”

“Who’s saying you can’t?” Lucifer shrugged, sipping at his tea.

You snorted. “Have you seen me? Do I look like Overlord material to you?”

“I didn’t think Mr. Crimson Asshole was an Overlord, so looks aren’t everything.” Lucifer hesitated. “Oh, shit, I shouldn’t have said it like that. You two are like, dating, right?”

You made a ‘fifty-fifty’ gesture with your hand. “Eh… Not really? It’s like… a mutual relationship. Neither of us are the ‘dating’ type, so we just kind of… vibe. But it’s fine, I get it. You should hear the things he says about you.”

“Oh?” Lucifer leaned forward, curious. You mimed zipping your lips, grinning playfully. “Alrighty then, keep your secrets.”

The feeling of guilt you’d been getting used to returned, but you smiled past it. If there was anything Alastor taught you, it was that you could hide everyone behind a smile. And it worked, for the most part. The only person who’d ever been able to see though it was Alastor himself. Similarly, you were the only person able to see through his ever-present smile.

Setting his cup down, Lucifer waited for a lull in the conversation. “Before I forget, I have something for you.” With a wave of his hand, a little yellow rubber duck appeared in his palm. Its features and markings made it resemble you.

Eyes wide, you carefully took the duck from his hands like it were an actual duckling.

“This one doesn’t breathe fire or anything, but…” Lucifer paused, like he was struggling for words. “I haven't had a real friend in… a really long time. S-so I wanted to thank you. For that.”

You were at a loss for words. The only other person to get you gifts since you’d died had been Alastor. That feeling of guilt hit you like a train, but it was masked with a bright, grateful smile.

“Lucifer, I… I’m honored. Thank you.” You struggled to tear your eyes away from the duck. “Can I hug you?”

Instead of replying, Lucifer pulled you out of your chair, hugging you close. You matched it, hoping your appreciation for his existence was properly conveyed.

“Ahem.”

You and Lucifer pushed each other apart like a teenage couple caught making out. Alastor was standing in the entrance to the parlor, teeth bared. His grin was sharp, borderline violent, and his eyes were narrowed.

“Al,” you tried, but no other words followed.

Then Alastor sighed, and the murderous look in his eyes disappeared. You were still holding the duck Lucifer had given you. Looking down, you realized you were shaking, and felt a little faint.

You stumbled back, right into Alastor’s arms. Head spinning, you allowed him to set you down on the chair. Alastor kept a hand on your arm, watching your every movement with surgical focus. He knew, you realized. He knew how guilty you felt, how much anxiety it was causing you. How long he’d known, you had no idea, but you could feel it in the way he wouldn’t let you go. You didn’t want him to let you go.

“Are you okay?” Lucifer looked frantic, obviously worried. “Do you need water? Something to eat? Medicine? I’m sure there’s some around here somewhere, if you just give me a minute—”

“I’m fine,” you interrupted, trying to muster a smile. You failed. How Alastor held his grin all day, every day, was a mystery to you. “Well, okay, maybe not fine.”

“They could use water,” Alastor provided, only a slight edge in his voice. Nodding, Lucifer ran off to get a glass of water, leaving you and Alastor alone in the parlor.

Alastor was silent for a moment. You could tell he was trying to figure out what to say. “I apologize for not noticing your anxiety sooner.” A little joy fluttered in your chest. Alastor enjoyed watching everyone’s suffering—everyone except for you.

“It’s not your fault,” you told him. “I should’ve been more upfront. I just…” You were still a little shaky. Alastor’s hand moved so it rested over your hand. The rubber duck was still in your other hand, and you turned it over with your fingers, fidgeting with it. “I didn’t want you to leave me.”

“Now that is nonsense if I ever heard any!” Alastor laughed. “What a ridiculous sentiment, my dear. It would take more than that to take me from you, I assure you.”

“But I know how much you hate him.” You looked towards the direction Lucifer had gone. “You hate that he’s here. You hate that he’s meddling. And this is just another reason to hate him.”

Alastor was contemplating his words again when Lucifer came back. He gently handed you the glass of water, causing you to have to put your duck down. Alastor was right to ask for it—the water helped. The air was tense as Lucifer and Alastor glared at one another while also keeping an eye on you.

“When you are happy, I am happy,” Alastor said out of the blue. Both you and Lucifer looked to him for clarification. “If talking with Lucifer makes you happy…” Alastor swallowed, gritting his teeth, glowering deeply at Lucifer, “then, by that logic, it makes me happy.”

“Hey, same here.” Lucifer put his arms up symbolically. “I’m not gonna leave my friend just because I hate their boyfriend– er, whatever you are, that is.”

“Partner,” you and Alastor said in unison.

“Right. That.”

The air was still tense, but it made you feel better knowing that Alastor and Lucifer wouldn’t be fighting over you, at the very least.

“Okay,” you said suddenly, having finished your water. “I’m going to bed. Thanks again for the duck, Lucifer.”

You barely heard Alastor growl at Lucifer upon realizing that he’d given you a gift, but it just caused you to smile fondly. Alastor was quick to step in beside you, taking your arm to escort you up to your room.

“You’re welcome!” Lucifer called back. “But don’t think that just because you and Alastor are partners that I’ll make one for him too!” You had to stifle a laugh. Lucifer was too sweet for his own good, no matter how awkward it made him seem.

You turned so Lucifer could see your grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader queerplatonic #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader platonic #lucifer and alastor #i wrote this instead of doing my homework #aroace reader #aroace alastor #lucifer is trying his hardest #rhys-writes

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 4 months

Text

❤ Yandere Actor ❤

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

WARNINGS: Obsession; Manipulation.

◾ Yandere! Actor who feels like he’s been hit and runned over by a truck when he meets you for the first time at the script reading for his latest movie. The moment he encounters your eyes, gosh, boy is a goner.

Whipped.

In love.

Bamboozled.

Out of his mind.

The way his stomach whirls in a lovely storm should be illegal.

◾ Yandere! Actor that falls for you fast and hard, hardly believing that destiny has landed you on his lap as you are his co-star, the female lead of his rom-com - his romantic interest - both in the movie as in real life.

You’re so cute and precious. Not as smoking hot or pretty as many of his plastic-fake co-stars but he’s drawn to you, like a bee to honey.

◾ Yandere! Actor who is not shy when it comes to showing his heavy interest for you.

A part of you realizes how much of a red flag he is and you just hope he doesn’t turn out to be those superstars that take advantage of younger actresses.

But strangely enough, he appears to be fully content in just listening to you, asking you a million questions about your life and about your interests, hobbies,...

You feel a tinge of awkwardness as he inches closer to you, devotedly drinking up each word that comes out of your glossed lips as if he’s enamored with your voice.

◾ Yandere! Actor who shows up at your trailer for more private script readings or to practice your lines for a particular scene. Lots of ramblings about how pretty you are, how you’re going to be the next Hollywood star and that he can definitely help you out with that.

You smile and accept his compliments, trying your best to be polite even though he makes you uncomfortable.

◾ Yandere! Actor who is incredibly annoying and inconsiderate of other people - that’s what you discover when the shooting process begins.

He completely disregards your feelings and oversteps boundaries, frequently making you extremely uncomfortable when he yells at the staff because your morning coffee was slightly cold or because someone didn’t put your trailer right next to his.

Despite feeling so bad for the low-ranking staff members, you feel grateful enough that you’re not on the receiving end of his anger.

◾ Yandere! Actor that acts like you’re both in a committed relation when the promotions start. During interviews, you’re stunned in the realization that he is very much invested in acting like there is something secret going on between you.

The intimate placement of his hand on your thigh, those intense looks he gives you, the way he incessantly compliments and overates your acting skills. Draping his arm around your shoulder, being a sweetheart to you.

It shouldn’t even be a surprise as fans start to ship you, the two of you becoming the new hot topic of the internet and much to your surprise, your movie is a commercial hit.

All because everyone wants to see your chemistry on the big screen.

◾ Yandere! Actor who one night, during a red carpet, takes the chance to confide to you that he loves you. And right there, in front of all the cameras, he gets down on one knee and pulls the prettiest diamond ring.

Barely even waits for your stumbling answer, before pushing the tight ring down your finger, making you his.

And if you try to deny him, trust me, he can show a side of him that you won’t like.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere x you #yandere x reader #tw: yandere #yandere concept #female reader #yandere headcanons #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines

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damagdsnow · 4 months

Text

Fix my reputation

Pairing: young Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

Summary: You and Coryo are together for mutual benefits, he needs a well known woman by his side to look reliable and loving during the presidential elections and you need your reputation to be fixed after your unforgivable scandal.

Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, fake dating, arranged marriage, manipulative/soft Snow, strong and independent reader (as she should), fluff, angst, power play. eventual: smut, fingering, thigh riding, switching sub/dom, degradation, denied orgasm, piv, dirty talk, overstimulation, oral (fem/male receiving), praising public sex

Chapter 1, chapter 2;

aesthetic chapter one, aesthetic chapter two;

Tw: Snow being Snow, mention of alcohol, panic/anxiety attack, eventual: mention of blood

Word count: 6.7k

Note: English is not my first language so if you see mistakes please feel free to correct me in the comments! It is also my very first time posting here on tumblr, I’ve always wanted to post my writing and finally I am now brave enough to do so, enjoy!

You hated that man.

If there was something you were sure about, it was that you didn’t want to be here with him, at the same table having lunch. You could feel his perking blue eyes staring into your soul even though he was not looking at you, he was meticulously cutting an apple with his long fingers and a shiny knife.

How did you get here? The man you so wholeheartedly hated, was now part of your life, and you couldn’t do anything about it. You felt like that apple he was cutting so carefully, peeling your skin, your essence, the way he was holding it seemed he was scared it could run away. You could run away.

The problem was, you would never run away. Run away to whom? To your mother who disclaimed you? To those friends who didn’t help you out? You had no choice. Now the only thing you had was your reputation ruined for a fatal mistake that could have been avoided. That was not enough, the only way to clean your image was to be with Snow. The charismatic, intelligent and kind Coriolanus Snow. Or this was what people said about him. What The Capitol said about him.

You didn’t think the same. You knew who he really was, you saw what they couldn't see. He was evil, he was the one who got the games so popular with his ideas, the one who didn’t mind sending children to death.

You and Coriolanus had only one thing in common. Maybe two or three. One of them was that you both needed each other’s influence in society for different interests. His strategy to win the elections included a woman by his side to make him look reliable and sensitive, but he mostly planned on taking advantage of your popularity to make his own name. You, on the other hand, just needed someone who could clean your reputation after a little incident.

Who better than the master manipulator Coriolanus Snow? You weren’t thrilled with the idea of spending time with him. But it was going to be just for once. The gala before the official beginning of presidential elections, the most awaited event in the Capitol.

The agreement was playing the part of two lovers who not by chance people already knew, his name was well known. Yours? Still on the news. It was just a ball, you could do a night of pretending.

“Tigris said you haven't tried your dress on yet,” his voice interrupted your thoughts, and you looked in his direction to see his expression.

He still had the apple in his hands and he was cutting it in half-moon shapes, he took one bite in his mouth and he directly stared at you while chewing. You tried to hide your disgust as Snow's eyes met yours, his smile sending chills down your spine. It was as you had imagined, or even worse, you felt his blue eyes dissecting you in pieces, like he was examining you, looking for your deepest secrets. You knew that staying calm and composed in his presence was crucial.

“I don’t want to, it fits me.” You didn’t even look at that dress, it was even sent to your house but you refused to open the box knowing that he chose it.

“I hope it will,” Coriolanus didn’t take his eyes off of yours. “At least try to read how you should answer the questions, many people will be there,” he then said while standing up from his chair. His tall frame loomed over you, and you couldn't help but shiver under his intense gaze.

“Are you giving me homework to do now?” you said, looking up at him.

“I’m simply providing you with some advice,” his voice tinged with subtle amusement. “Oh, you think it’s going to be simple after all you did? “The Capitol won’t forgive you easily,” then he walked away, leaving you alone in the dining room.

This day felt longer than ever. The morning before you had received a letter from Snow’s manor telling you that someone was going to pick you up to prepare you for the event. It was signed by his publicist, Iris. You met her a couple of times before: a well dressed woman who knew too much about anyone's business in the Capitol. It was her idea to have lunch with him, “just to get to know each other more,” she said, but for you it was just a reminder of his real personality. They even gave you a room for the day, two chambers away from his, quoting Iris’s letter “this way you can feel comfortable,” you thought she was too attentive and kind to work for someone like Snow.

Iris was the one convincing you to take part in this gala, she explained to you that someone cherished like Coriolanus would draw the attention away from the scandal. You two just had to pretend to be together, “the Capitol loves unexpected new couples,” the publisher said to you the first time you saw her, “the young aspiring president and the woman everybody talks about.” Iris was convinced that this way Coriolanus was seen as the devoted partner who wasn’t afraid of your bad reputation, and you as the woman ready to rise from the ashes.

You ran into your room and slammed the door so loud you hoped he could hear you. You found a big envelope on your bedsheets, and you hoped it was some sort of -hey remember the incident? It’s not your fault, everything it’s okay!-thing, but unfortunately, it was not a free pass to the world. It was a sheet listing all possible answers to some questions you might be asked today at the gala. It was like a script to follow to save your face, to look good in front of the cameras, in front of the-very-judging-elitè. In that sheet, you could find any imaginable question they could ask, where your dress was from or who your family were.

“Did you do that on purpose?” It was one of the questions, and you thought this was something Snow would ask you. He didn’t say a thing about what you did, in the few times you talked he never asked you directly about the scandal. He could have wanted explanations, the real version of the story from you, but he never said a word. You read the answers on the sheet, and they were all perfectly written, so meticulously explained using the Capitol-vocabulary, elegant words and a candid tone.

“How did you meet Mr. Snow?” Your heart skipped a beat, you didn’t consider being asked about your fake relationship with him, it was all new to you.

“…it was love at first sight, who couldn’t love an extraordinary man like him, I immediately fell in love.” You had to read the full answer twice to be certain you weren’t hallucinating.

You would never have said those words, never in a billion years, not even under torture, of course you were ready to lie, but lying to this level? It was too much. You knew it was him who wrote this answer, you imagined the grin on his face while typing those words about him. You were mad. The answers about your dating life with Coriolanus were filled with romantic moments and exaggerated gestures that made you feel uncomfortable reading their unrealistic nature. You tried imagining those things happening in real life, but it felt completely alien and artificial. It was difficult to believe that anyone could genuinely experience those events. With Coriolanus mostly. You read the pages, over and over, a book would have been better because there was too much to read, but instead, you were stuck with a bunch of printed documents detailing your supposed love story.

He also put dates on when things happened: your first date in the lake house in July, the time you had dinner in a fancy restaurant in August and the day you moved in his place. Lies. Lies. Lies. Apparently you officially started dating three months ago. Three? You scrolled over the pages, hoping not to read what you were thinking.

“…after the incident, Coryo was very supportive, always there to comfort and reassure me even though all I did. I felt like I betrayed him too, but he always said we could get through it together, and I found myself falling for him all over again.” You knew none of this ever happened, and yet here it was, staring back at you in black and white. It was as if the words were playing tricks, as if the words were there to pretend instead of simply put on paper.

You sighed and closed the file, feeling a mix of frustration, confusion, and irritation. He was never there for you. Nobody was. You were all alone. After that day, you cried every night, and you were the one reassuring yourself, lying in front of the mirror saying ‘it’s going to be okay’ while your sense of guilt was slowly eating your guts. He wanted to appear like the perfect partner, but you knew the truth. It was all a façade. Deep down, you knew the real him, and it took all your strength to acknowledge the reality. You threw the stack of files on the floor, it was all too much.

You got up from the bed, and you went directly to his room, determined to confront him about the distorted reality that had been painted in those files. You didn’t even knock on his door, and you felt surprised when you noticed it wasn’t locked. You open the door, and you close it from behind, entering the room. He was standing close to his bed, completely oblivious to your presence. It was like he expected you to burst into his room out of nowhere.

“You finally read the file,” he said, looking at his wrist without making eye contact.

He was focusing on buttoning his cuff links, his fingers fumbling with the buttons, his white shirt still open and his blonde hair wet from the shower. His normally confident demeanor was replaced with vulnerability as he waited for your response, the tension thick in the air. It was the very first time you saw him not perfectly dressed up, without styled hair and shiny shoes. The sight of him standing there, so different from his usual self, caught you off guard.

“Yes, I’ve read your fabricated tale,” you said, trying not to look at him, at the droplets of water sliding down his temple, his fingers still struggling with the shirt. “You should have become a fiction book writer, you got talent.”

"I just wanted to impress you," he admitted, finally looking up to meet your gaze. “I can see I got a reaction from you,” he definitely succeeded in catching your attention, with those iper-articulated lies, not even close to what really happened.

“The agreement was that I won't say anything bad about you, just be by your side as a trophy-fake-girlfriend in this stupid gala, inventing absurd stories won't win my reputation back," you said firmly, crossing your arms.

He reached his desk where there was a glass of some alcohol sloshing around, poured himself a drink and took a long, deep swig. “They won't believe you if you only stand by me like a mannequin, you have to be an active member of their social life, so they can get to know you, sympathize you and maybe forgive you,” he said in a calm tone, you could see his profile while he was again drinking from his glass, his shirt still open that showed his toned body.

You immediately looked away taking a deep breath. “I won't be a part of any false narrative you wrote,” was the only thing that came to your mind.

He scoffed his head, “Just for the period of the presidential campaign, nothing more.”

“Are you suggesting that this ridiculous act is going to take longer than just a day?”

“I know you don’t like me, you just need to pretend you do. I’ll do the same,” he took another sip of that liquor while looking at you, “the publicist said just one appearance at the gala isn’t going to be beneficial to either of us.”

“Why are you telling me this now? The plan was slightly different,” you said

“Oh I knew you were going to be reluctant about the idea of pretending to live here, just for show,” he was serious, his fierce eyes looking at you waiting for a reply.

“I almost tolerated your presence at work, and now you want me to live in the same house as yours?” You asked

“After the gala, they are going to focus on the ‘new couple’, our performance has to be something they really believe in,” he leaned his head at the same height as yours, “we already don’t have that chemistry, at least they are going to think we live together,” Coriolanus said to your ear, his curls brushing your cheek.

“I simply decline your proposal, find someone else.” You said with a fake smile.

“Didn’t journalists harass you every time you left your little apartment? How exhausting, isn’t it?” He whispered in a sarcastic tone, making you remember all those times you ran away from photographers. “I got peacekeepers here, no one is going to bother you anymore, as long as you don’t bother me,” he turned to the desk, placing the empty glass in a tray, “strangers in real life, lovers on the outside.”

“The problem is that I despise you, I cannot do this for one more day,” you couldn’t see his expression, just his white see-through shirt displaying his back muscles.

“No, the problem is that you don’t understand how fucked up your situation is,” he was now facing you, “I know people who were condemned for way less, you are lucky,” his words were sharp as blades.

“Lucky to have you? It’s a punishment,” you said and he laughed.

“Then don’t come at me crying at why people still hate you,” he took a few steps closer to you

“So you can comfort me like you did a month ago?” You asked him pointing out the most absurd lie in that file.

“Oh, so you read every single page, you really did your homework.”

You stood your ground, refusing to be manipulated any longer. He was doing that purposely, just to provoke you, saying those things just to see how far you could take. Coriolanus was looking at you with his piercing gaze, attempting to intimidate you, he expected you to buckle down and crumble in front of him, but you would never give him such satisfaction, you were already in hell, so why not play with fire?

“Why me?” you asked him, and you saw a sense of surprise in his eyes. “Why, of all the girls in Panem, you decide the only one who can give you trouble?” You took a step closer to his figure, “there are so many good girls from rich families and intact reputations, why me? I’ll just ruin you.” You said, trying to catch his eyes looking back at you. But you could only see his frowning eyebrows, his wet messy hair and a droplet of water trailing down his neck, you were so close to him, you could hear him breathing.

“Everybody knows your name, bad press is still press,” his eyes finally met yours. “You are the center of attention,” he took a step back, as if momentarily distancing himself from the tension. “The presidential elections are extremely competitive, it’s not a race for who’s superior to whom,” he licked his lips, “but who is going to perform better for these people looking for distractions. “We are going to be their little show”

“So tell me Coriolanus,” you stepped closer as you were before. The height difference was such that it made you look up at him, you took one side of his shirt in your hand and you buttoned up with the other, feeling his warm torso on your fingers. "How exactly do you propose to fix my reputation while bolstering your own?” you finished, a sly smile dancing on your lips and your eyes looking for him.

Coriolanus was looking down at your fingers still brushing his skin, he had his lips parted and he softly whispered, “just play the game,” his eyes still fixed on you. He was talking about making everything right again, but it felt like there was something more behind those words.

You stepped back, trying to compose yourself. “I’m just giving them another reason to hate me with this bunch of lies,” you were looking down at the floor when you heard him stepping closer to you. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his eyes on your face.

He lifted your chin with two fingers and made you look up at him, “I’ll make them fall for our lie,” he said, his voice was so deep and calm.

“You are a master manipulator,” you whispered back, looking down again as if the floor was more interesting than the man standing in front of you.

You heard him chuckle, and he leaned closer to your ear, “and I’m going to teach you how to be one too.”

Your first public appearance after the scandal was going to be at this gala. Everything was calculated in detail, the dress you wore had to be long and white, as pure as snow. Your hair had to be loose so it could cover your exposed back, and apparently you had to memorize pages and pages of answers you could give. After your intense conversation in his room you decided to play the game seeing how far you could take, how far you would do to take everything back. He wanted you under his spell, he was trying to shape you how he desired, for his own interests.

“Dear, why aren’t you dressed yet?” The publicist said to you while you were sitting on the smooth sheets of your bed. You had your bathrobe still on, it’s been thirty minutes since you had a shower but you had your head in the clouds.

You couldn’t stop thinking about your conversation with Coriolanus, his wet hair, the words he said to you, his naked torso, his manipulating eyes. You repeat to yourself that he was Coriolanus Snow, and not any man, he probably told you half the strategy he really had in mind. Being with him was like playing chess blindfolded, you had to trust him but he could mess up your moves, change your plans.

“Come here I’ll help you,” Iris said, she seemed like a good person, she had a comforting smile and an elegant manner with everything she did. She was wearing a short coppery-brown color dress, it was shiny as her nails, decorated with tiny gold stones. You took her hand and you stood up, making the bathrobe fall on the carpet. The silk of the dress soothed your skin like a petal, you looked at the mirror and the weak light coming from your window gently reflected on your bright dress, almost making it shine.

“It is really pretty,” you said astonished while turning to see your exposed back. Then your smile disappeared because you remembered it was him who picked the dress.

“You are making it pretty, my darling,” Iris stated as she fastened the zip on your side. It was a simple dress yet delicate and impressive, it embraced the shape of your body effortlessly.

“It is just a little loose here on your waist,” the woman said, touching the excess fabric on your side. You remembered the conversation early this morning when you proudly said the dress fitted you.

“I’m going to tell Tigris to fix it,” Iris said and you immediately looked at her reflection in the mirror.

“No please,” she changed her expression, “it is bad luck to mend a dress the same day it is worn,” your mother always said that to you, maybe it was not a popular saying considering the publicist's face.

She tilted her head with a confused smile as she touched the yellow-butterflies-clip in her voluminous red wig. Now that you were thinking about it, you sewed your skirt the day it happened, ‘it’s just a coincidence, I don’t believe in these things’ you said to yourself, you were not superstitious but at the same time you avoided superstitions, just in case.

“Whatever you want,” Iris said with a soft smile.

You touched your neck and you thought how a shiny pendant would look good. “Iris, do we have some necklace to match this dress?” She stepped closer to you looking at your chest.

“I think you shouldn’t wear any jewelry tonight,” you tilted your head in confusion, “see, today is your first appearance after the,” she paused, “incident.”

“And what is it supposed to do with jewe—“ she didn’t let you finish your sentence.

“You could wear pearls or diamonds but what would the elite think? That you want to appear, that you want to show off,” she walked behind you so you could see her reflection in the mirror. “How you present yourself is the way they perceive you,” Iris brushed your long hair on the side, exposing your neck, “you are wearing a white dress, ‘how pure!’ No diamonds, ‘how modest!’ “try to think like the socialites, once you enter their minds, your act will get a standing ovation”. Her words put everything in a different perspective, she really knew what she was doing.

You heard a knock on the door, “the party starts in an hour!” A muffled voice said from the corridor.

“Thank you Ariandes, we’re almost done!” Iris said in a loud tone.

In less than sixty minutes you had to put on your best mask and try to change the mind of a thousand people about yourself, with Coriolanus by your side, pretending he is your supportive lover. You felt a rush of anxiety on your chest, like a weight pressing against your heart.

“I don’t think I can go,” you whispered with a trembling voice. Iris made a worried look.

“Oh sweety, I can only imagine what you have been through,” she took a lilac glass flask from the desk beside the mirror, “you are a strong woman,” she sprayed a lavender fragrance on your neck and she smiled.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, and with all your strength you tried to keep the tears that threatened to spill over. “Iris, how do I fake being so interested in someone?” You asked, thinking about what was written in that file.

“Have you ever been in love?” She asked with a soft gaze.

You didn’t know the answer to that question, you had a couple of boyfriends in your university years, but were you in love?

“It’s when every atom of your body's only desire is to burn at the mere thought of being with that someone,” Iris looked up, like she was thinking of somebody, you felt even more disoriented with her answer.

You couldn’t identify that feeling with anyone, you’ve never met someone that made ‘your cells burn’. What would that even mean, you thought.

The door opened and you turned your head to see Ariandes, the political advisor, “We gotta go,” he said looking at Iris. The man had his hair pulled back in a long braid, dark as his skin. You walked in his direction and you followed him.

The moment you stepped into the car you felt a sudden tension, it was dark outside, only one side of Coriolanus’ face was lit up by cars passing by. He was wearing a red coat that covered the rest of the outfit, his blonde locks were lightly falling on his temples and you noticed he was wearing a ring on his left index finger.

“Act as natural as possible,” Coriolanus said and he looked at you, it felt like he was inspecting your body and you wished to be in his mind at that very moment.

Was everything going according to plan?

No, you didn’t want to know what it was like to be in his head, it was torturing enough being on the outside.

“I’m not very good at lying,”

‘not as good as you’, you wanted to say.

He looked at you like he read your mind, luckily you couldn’t see his expression. “Don’t be impulsive, smile and never leave my side,” you felt he was giving you orders, “what 's going to happen at the political campaign depends partially on today’s gala.”

“You know, Mr. Snow,” you started “I tried reading your fiction-book but it was so,” you tried examining his face, “unrealistic,” he scoffed and looked the other way, “you want me to paint you as the man you aren’t and never will —caring, affectionate and respectful “I can’t do miracles, people won’t believe my lies forever.”

Coriolanus clenched his jaw, “at least the whole Panem doesn’t hate me,” he said close to your face.

“Yet,” you added, hoping to maintain eye contact one more second.

“And just a reminder,” he said, “without me you would have been at home, crying and begging for forgiveness,” he whispered in a bitter tone in your ear.

“And without me you wouldn’t have the attention you crave so much,” you replied, feeling the tension in the air.

Coriolanus was too close to you, like an animal before hunting his prey, you could see his facial features reflecting the weak light outside. The engine stopped, and the driver opened the car door.

“Mr. Snow” he said and Coriolanus stepped out of the car, he didn’t even look at you.

‘He would slam the door in my face if he could’, you thought.

You took the driver’s hand, helping you get out with your long dress. Coriolanus took his maroon coat off and he gave it to an avox at the entrance. You could see him from his back, he was wearing an ivory jacket and trousers, his suit matched your gown. He calculated every single detail. Unexpectedly, Coriolanus waited for you as you stood by him in the hall, he extended his arm and you looked at him.

“Do I have to?” You asked and you noticed a white rose on his breast pocket.

“It’s just an act,” he replied and you took him by the arm.

Let the play begin.

The ballroom was lit by magnificent chandeliers and the air was filled with whispers and laughter. The atmosphere was comforting and energetic: people with colorful wigs, glitter dresses and sugary drinks. There was not a face you could recognise, it was not what you were used to, even though you have been living in the Capitol for all your life, you’ve never experienced a party like this. You walked through the crowd with Coriolanus by your side, arm by arm, while everybody was looking curiously at your direction. You’ve heard someone saying his name, and something about the girl he was walking with.

Why her? Since when does Snow have a girlfriend? I’ve heard really bad things about that woman.

And there it was, the gossip, the uncertain glances and how they looked down on you. On the other hand, people were praising him.

He’s so charming! White suits him well! Future president of Panem.

You looked at Coriolanus, the warm light was making his eyes brighter, or was it the crowd? He looked at them so proudly, with a confident smile, he was living for that moment, being the center of attention. He met your gaze, then his blue eyes looked at your dress, but not the same way people did.

It felt different.

Was he judging?

Admiring maybe? It was a mystery, nothing was black or white with him.

Coriolanus greeted a couple of his acquaintances, introducing you as his partner, then calling you his date and it once slipped from his lips calling you his girlfriend. And you actually were, in that moment, you had to act as his beloved girlfriend who had a well known bad reputation. He never let your arm go away, he was acting so well, playing the caring boyfriend who couldn’t leave you alone.

“Here they are, the couple of the night!” A loud voice came from behind, it was Flavius Windbuzz, one of the most famous tv hosts in the Capitol. His voice was recognisable from miles away, it didn’t matter if you watched television or not, he was everywhere and it was impossible in Capitol City not knowing his name.

He stepped closer to you with a glowing smile and a glitter microphone, he had his hair gray, more like silver. “Everybody is talking about you, the new Capitol lovebirds,” a camera was pointing at you and your heartbeat was getting faster, everyone stopped talking and stared at you both. “So tell me Mr. Snow, who is this young lady you are showing off?”

“You said it right Flavius, she is my girlfriend,” he did it again, Coriolanus said girlfriend, this time broadcast on tv.

“What a pleasure to meet you,” the host said to you, he took your hand and kissed it. These exaggerated gestures were the usual in this type of parties, especially where a silver-haired-man was interviewing the guests. He asked about your family, if you liked the food —you didn’t touch any but you lied, and who was the designer of your dress, everything as the script said.

“Honey, you are a really interesting woman but I have to ask you something,” Mr. Windbuzz said, “people are talking and it is my job to satisfy their desires. “So tell me, are the rumors true?”

You expected a much worse question, you stopped breathing for a moment and Coriolanus noticed that because you tightened the grip on his arm. “You tell me Flavius, what do the rumors say?” You answered with a soft smile hiding your discomfort.

“I know that during the last edition of The Hunger Games, something really unfortunate happened,” you noticed he had purple contacts on, and that was something that made you even more nervous. “Is it true that you took part in the incident we all saw live on TV?” He asked and you felt like your heart was beating outside your chest.

“It is true,” the crowd gasped, and your pulse increased.

“So tell me, how did it feel when you killed those poor and innocent tributes?” The question was worded differently than what you read on that file.

Killed.

Poor and innocent.

You couldn’t get out of your head their lifeless faces, the foam coming out of their mouths and the sound of the cannon echoing in that room. The hall started spinning, you saw the interviewer’s face, a mix of compassion and concern, as the crowd started whispering more and more you felt your head cold and heavy. The microphone was pointing in your direction but you could not even stutter a syllable, blank pages wandered in your mind and you felt a sense of emptiness. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned your dizzy head to see Coriolanus who started talking for you.

“She was more than devastated, I remember—, ” you saw his lips moving like the time had slowed down and you were not listening to his words, his voice echoed in your ears as you never took your eyes off of him.

His grip on your shoulder tightened and his eyes looked at you as he tilted his head suggesting you both could go away. You followed him even though your ears were still ringing and your sight blurring, Coriolanus was walking too fast so you took his hand in yours or you could really faint on the ground. At that action, he looked at you with a confused stare, his hand grip was firm and steady as he dragged you in the bathroom. After checking no one was in there, he leaned against the door so no one could step in. You stood in front of him, his curls falling on his forehead that was a little sweaty, then he began talking, but the sound of his words were just an intense ring in your ears. He placed both his hands on your cheeks trying to have your attention, and you woke up from your hypnotic state.

“They are just hypocrites, they are the ones who watch The Hunger Games on tv, they send money to help their favorite to kill.” Coriolanus said looking in your eyes, and you started sobbing. “They are not better than you, “stop crying and play their game.”

You felt the warmth of his hands on your skin, he never touched you this way, it was intimate, nothing you could expect from him. For a moment, you brushed your hand with his but he instantly removed it, walking away from your sight.

“He was too indiscreet,” you heard him whisper, “I should’ve expected that from him.”

“No Coriolanus, I should’ve expected this question,” your voice was still trembling, “you said it wasn’t going to be easy, I deserve this, “do you still think this act is a good idea?” You asked him.

His tall figure leaned against the green tiles of the bathroom, he had his hands on his pockets and he was looking down, thinking about who knows what. Now that you were seeing from a distance, he resembled an angel. His white suit, his blonde curls and the perking blue eyes. No, there was nothing pure and heavenly in him. You thought he was probably thinking about how you ruined his plan, how he had to intervene to save your umpteenth failure and he was now calculating another strategy.

‘Not an angel, a fallen angel, the next Lucifer of Panem.’

“The night is still young,” he said while stepping to the door. He didn’t answer your question, was he regretting meeting you?

Everything was as you left it. The party was still going and no one seemed to have noticed your panic attack. That was a relief. You tried distracting yourself, you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened before. The interview, the crying, his hands on your face. Everything was worse than you had expected. You and Coriolanus were in the hallway next to the massive columns that supported the ceilings, on the other side people were dancing to a classical melody. You wanted to stay there, outside their sight, because to you the dance floor was more like an arena where people were going to attack you.

“Shall we?” Coriolanus extended his hand suggesting to go dancing with him.

“I’m not good at dancing, I could step on your feet,” you hoped it would’ve been enough for him to give up.

“I’ll take the risk.” That was his plan, acting like nothing happened and putting his best smile on to be the charming man everyone adored.

You took his hand, the same hand that wiped your tears off your face was now intertwined in yours. Every time you looked for an excuse to not like him. As if you had to remind yourself that you hated him. Did you? He was dancing with you so naturally, holding you like you had known each other for a very long time, his hand on your waist as if he was used to it. There was nothing evil in him on the outside, and that was the problem.

“I’ve just saved your face, thank me later.”

You rolled your eyes at Coriolanus’ words. “I’m used to humiliations so next time don’t bother yourself.” you replied.

“Oh but I’m not used to it and don’t worry, there will be no next time.” Without a notice, he made you twirl around.

“When will this thing end?” You asked annoyed.

“I hate it as much as you,” he pushed your waist closer to him, this way you were face to face, noses touching.

“What the fuck Coriol—,”

He interrupted you, “for the cameras.”

You turned your head and you saw a bunch of flashes, blinding your sight. Coriolanus leaned over you and your lips were brushing, you couldn’t push him away because of the photographers. You had no time to tell him something, that he kissed you. It was for a second, just one second where your lips touched. It was cold, dry and unexpected. Just like him. Snow by name, snow by nature. If only eyes could talk. You’d probably say to him how you wished you weren’t there, with him, and you wondered what his blue eyes would say to you, probably the same. After that moment, Coriolanus didn’t say a word to you. You were there, smiling at photographers hoping to drop your mask as soon as they’d left.

The rest of the night went according to plan. Flavius interviewed all the future candidates and Coriolanus had the opportunity to make his well prepared speech, he also got invitations from influential members close to the president Ravinstill, not to mention the many sponsor offers he had. At least something was going well, for him though. The ride back home was painful. You and Coriolanus were looking outside the window, his crimson coat was the only barrier separating your bodies.

“Did they ever tell you how bad you are at kissing,” you hated silence so much you could say the stupidest things that came to mind just not to hear your thoughts. You turned your head to see him and his eyes were already on you.

“Mhm, girls usually compliment me for other qualities,” he chuckled, “and then that wasn’t me kissing, remember it’s just for show,” he whispered looking at the driver hoping he wasn’t paying attention.

“Well, no one believed your poor attempt to look in love,” you said and he untied the knot of his white tie.

“I was caught off guard,” he said looking at you, cars speeding in the window behind him, “and I can’t just kiss how I would normally do.”

You tried not to laugh at his words, ‘what would that even mean?’ you thought. “Just try to convince them, because you didn’t even convince me.”

“How should I kiss you then?”

He put his hand on the back of your head, with his thumb brushed your temple and he pulled you closer, his lips touching yours softly. You knew what was going to happen, but you let him do it.

The way he kissed you, like he was starving for your lips, hungry for your taste. Was he the same man that kissed you before? You melted in his touch, his hand slided down your neck, his fingers pressing on your throat, making you shiver even more. He tasted like mint and posca, his hair smelled of roses and his skin was warm under your touch.

Coriolanus pulled away from your lips but you came closer to cut the gap separating you. It felt like an instinct, like you were not satisfied enough and you could feel a sense of heat down your core. He pulled away the coat that was between you and his other hand was now on your exposed back, keeping you closer, his tongue still dancing dangerously with yours as you intertwined your fingers in his locks.

“Coryo” you said between kisses.

He wasn’t intending to stop and neither did you, but you remembered who was the man who was holding you that way, whose hands were making you shiver, whose lips were making you want for more and what nickname you just whined.

“I think we should,” you managed to say, trying to stop yourself from doing something you were going to regret. You broke the kiss, his lips were swollen still too close to yours.

He whispered, "I told you, I can be convincing when needed.”

🦋 A/N: I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, let me know what you think in the comments! I’ll probably explain the details of the scandal and how they met next time, it’s way more than you can imagine from here. Also I KNOW there is no smut here, but bear with me, it's a slow burn and trust me in the next chapter I’ll add some ✨ spice ✨. In this first chapter I wanted to set up the atmosphere.

A special thanks to Freddie Mercury and the song “Play the game” that helped me when I was stuck, to the poet Taylor Swift who reminded me of the many ways you can say the color red. PLEASE let me know if you want to be tagged next time 💌

ask me questions here !

@gracieghost36955 @annavatar @ghostlyloversworld @badbussylol @gracieroxzy @coolcatyarb @coriosgf @xxrougefangxx @devils-blackrose @wearemadeofstardust0

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #slow burn #enemies to lovers #young coriolanus snow #coryo x reader #coryo smut #coryo snow #coryo x you #tom blyth #the hunger games

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ellecdc · 29 days

Text

Hardass

Chef!Sirius Black x mixologist!reader who survive a shift from hell

CW: fem!reader, mention of alchohol/drinking, fluff.

comes from a request from @maladaptiveescapism: chef!sirius and mixologist!reader. sirius is a chef at a fancy restaurant and maybe a mishap happens with booking and reader has to keep the people sitting at the bar waiting for a seat and she does such a good job because she’s flirty and fun and trained for this. sirius who always has such a short temper (chefs, am I right) secretly worships her because she’s the one thing he can count on

Sirius was fuming, to say the least.

He loved his job; he really did. The kitchens were his sanctuary, and it was the first place he fled to when he ran away from home at only sixteen.

Though he knew Effie and Fleamont would have helped with anything he needed (or even wanted, for that matter), he didn’t want to become a burden or take advantage of their kindness. So, he found a part time job in a small family owned restaurant as a dishwasher.

Washing dishes became bussing tables. Bussing tables became hosting. Hosting became serving. He went from a server to a line cook, until finally someone took him under their wing, and Sirius made a name for himself.

Now he was a successful chef working in a successful restaurant and he certainly had made a name for himself.

That name? Hardass.

But it took a certain intensity to run the kind of kitchen that Sirius did, and he expected nothing short of greatness from the kitchen staff.

Fortunately for Sirius, it was the restaurant manager’s fuck up that caused tonights issues.

Unfortunately for Sirius, that fucked everything up for his staff in the kitchen.

“So, quick question for you Jeffery; did you pass year four maths?” Sirius asked earnestly, watching Jeffery shove his tongue in his cheek to avoid snapping back at the glowering chef in all his tattooed intensity. “Because last time I counted, we don’t have this many sodding tables!” He continued, pointing at the number of reservations scheduled for tonight.

“Uh oh.” You carefully called out as you walked in through the front door, in the process of shucking off your jacket as you made your way towards the bar. “Looks like you could use a drink, chef.”

Sirius was almost mad at how much of the rage seemed to settle down into a simmer at the sight of you; he didn’t want to calm down, he wanted to ring Jeffery’s fucking neck out.

But Jeffery, the coward, had used your entrance as a means to fuck off from whatever circle of Sirius’ personal hell he’d been summoned from.

“We’re overbooked tonight.” Sirius grumbled as he sat dejectedly at your bar; mirroring what likely most of your patrons looked like as they spent their weekday evenings with you.

“Shit luck.” you sighed commiseratingly as you poured two shots of vodka and slid one to him. “Here’s to working our sodding asses off then, hm?” You said with a smirk as you touched your glass to his and threw it back like a pro.

And you had indeed been right; the two of you had worked your sodding asses off tonight. But the difference between the two of you was astounding.

Sirius spent most of his evening sweating, cursing, and - more embarrassingly - shouting at the poor servers looking for their orders that ‘clearly weren’t fucking ready yet, were they?!’.

But not you.

Alright, did he take the opportunity to run out the odd plate for the servers just to steal a glance at you? Sure. Sue him. And everytime he did, he’d pass the very busy bar which was always full of couples and groups waiting for a table to clear. None of them seemed to mind, however, as they watched you shake, throw, spin, catch bottles like it was an olympic sport; all with a smile on your face and mischief in your eyes.

It was as if they were your captive audience and you were thriving on stage.

Sirius wanted to stay and enjoy the show; but you were working your arse off, and Sirius should be too.

Sirius’ feet were killing him, which meant most of his staff’s feet were worse; his shoulders ached, his head was pounding, and his fingers were raw.

But they made it to the end of the shift; and he supposed that was all that mattered.

He brought out two plates of the restaurant’s famous (read: Sirius’ famous) pasta alla gricia.

You were no longer wearing your beaming smile and Sirius could now see some of the weight of the night in your shoulders and the way your hair was falling as you reorganised your bar.

“Think you can take a break?” He asked as he sat at your freshly cleared bar and placed one plate in front of him and one behind the bar for you.

You startled, which Sirius thought strange for someone who seemed so confident and assured every time he’d walked past your bar for the past almost year the two of you have worked here, but he didn’t comment on it.

“Oh my God.” You groaned appreciatively as you abandoned your task to take in the plate he’d prepared for you. “I’m starving; thank you!”

Sirius chuckled and suddenly felt shy, which he did not think suited him at all, but you were smiling at him like he was your personal angel on earth and he couldn’t help but return the gaze.

“Let me get you a drink?” You asked, but turned to start pouring him a glass of wine (perfectly suited for the dish, mind you) before he had a chance to answer.

You placed both drinks on the bar and brought your plate around to sit on the stool beside Sirius.

The two of you ate in relative silence; allowing the stress and exhaustion from the shift to wash over you.

“I think I made Chloe cry.” Sirius said finally, causing you to snort.

“You did.” You agreed quickly. “She came and helped me in the bar for a bit and Jeffery had to run her tables after that.”

Sirius barked a laugh as he took a sip of his wine. “I was wondering why that sod was in my kitchen. Well, I’m sorry to Chloe, but happy to have put Jeffery to work.”

Speaking of the devil; Jeffery came out front with his jacket on and a work bag slung over his shoulder.

“I’m heading out now; are you two okay to close up?”

You smiled at him, but unfortunately for Jeffrey, Sirius responded first. “Yes we can close up.” He sneered. “We’re not new here Jeffery.”

“Thanks Jeffery, have a nice night.” You relented; giving Sirius a gentle kick in the shin.

The door shut behind the bastard and Sirius felt his shoulders relax. “I hate that sod.”

Thankfully, you only laughed at him.

“I think you hate everyone here.”

“That’s not true.” Sirius disagreed quickly.

“Well you certainly don’t like anyone here.”

“That’s not true either. I quite like you.” Sirius admitted, quickly hoping to god his cheeks didn’t flush at his impromptu admission.

You hummed in acknowledgement with a cheeky smile on your lips. “Is that why you made me dinner? As a thanks for being the most tolerable coworker?”

“Most tolerable, certainly. Also for saving our arses tonight in the kitchen; I’m not sure how you managed to keep those folks so happy all evening.”

“Oh, that’s easy; get them drunk and steal desserts from the kitchen.”

“That’s where all my tiramisu was going?” Sirius asked in faux contempt.

You only smiled at him and shoved the last bite of your pasta in your mouth.

“You minx.” He continued, taking the now empty plates to the kitchen as you followed dutifully behind him with the glasses.

“Get out of my kitchen.” Sirius joked, plucking the wine glasses from your hands as he moved to wash the dishes.

“I’d think not.” You argued. “I got a free meal; put me to work, chef.”

“First of all, it was not a free meal; you more than earned it after your performance tonight. Secondly, don’t call me chef.”

“Why not? You are a chef, aren’t you?” You teased as you leaned sideways against the counter to watch him work.

“Yes; but if you call me chef, what am I supposed to call you?”

Your eyebrows raised at that. “What do you mean ‘what are you supposed to call me’? My name is fine.”

“My name’s not chef.” He countered.

Your eyes narrowed challengingly at him. “What do you want to call me, Sirius?”

Mine?

“Haven’t decided yet.” He said instead, keeping his eyes on the dishes in his hands instead of meeting your gaze currently burning into the side of his head.

“Well…” You started, walking over to release some paper from the chit, and scribbling something out on it. “Why don’t you just call me…tomorrow?” You said, handing him the paper after he dried his hands on a teatowel.

Your number was scrawled out with a dainty little heart beside it.

Sirius looked back up at you to see you smiling shyly at him.

“I can assure you I will be.” He promised.

Your smile grew at that as you began walking backwards towards the backroom.

“Have a nice night, Sirius.” You said before you exited the kitchen.

It was too late to wish him a nice night; he’d already had one.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #mutual love #sirius black #sirius being sirius #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black blurb #sirius black fic #sirius black ficlet #chef!sirius #restaurant au #ellecdc fics

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flashdyke · 4 months

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The revelation that ERCC has been breaking its own guidelines to spite Beira's Place and rape victims is so illustrative of the trans activist attitude to safe spaces and sexual violence as a whole.

This isn't random rape apologists online, who can just show up and claim, "Everyone knows [idea I wish was true]" and then block all dissenters; it's people who've actually been working with victimised women for years, who know exactly what women mean when they say that they want to only be around other women, and they're taking advantage of their access to women at their most vulnerable to further traumatise them one way or the other, to entrench what is therefore clearly a misogynist ideology.

Selfishness doesn't cover it. To turn a woman away from help because her extremely sensible boundaries seem old fashioned to you is to further punish a victimised woman, and affirm that she's not allowed to set boundaries about even the most intimate and sensitive parts of her own life. To then lie to her that there is no other help available, to punish a rape victim for not responding how you believe rape victims should think and feel and to spite the service that will offer her help (perhaps that greater capacity for altruism embarrasses you?), is unfathomably cruel. To lie to a woman who says she wants female-only support that you offer that, so that you can get her into a room with a man, because you know she'll either be too scared to say anything and just not come back, or you can gaslight her about being insane or bigoted, is to repeat the deceptive process that's part of how a lot of rapists attack.

The people responsible for this, and similar at other centres around the UK, have encouraged women to self-exclude and stop seeking help -- and are, it turns out, telling those women that no help exists, because they don't believe women who won't use their rape to validate a man deserve any. They're active participants in the abuse of women, and enablers of rapists.

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avocad1s · 1 year

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Bring Back What Once Was Mine

Chapter Summary: Lumine tells the False Creator some fabricated news. You are confronted by the Prince.

Characters Mentioned: Multiple Characters Mentioned

Content Warning: Cult and Religious themes ahead! You've been warned. I would also say this deals with slight Yandere themes as well!

Reader is the true creator of Teyvat. GN! Reader

Part Three Part Four (You are here!) Part Five

I’ve re-read this multiple times but I think if I read it again I’ll grow to hate it and delete so I’m just gonna post it

Even with the moonlight spilling through the campsite, you could hardly make out the features of his face. His grip on your hands was firm but not tight enough to cause you any discomfort, it didn’t seem that he was going to let go any time soon.

“Oh how I’ve waited for this…. Waited for you.” He breaths out.

You simply stare at him, not saying a word. Had he been following you this whole time? If so, how come you weren’t alerted to his presence?

His smile drops at your silence, “don’t be alarmed Your Grace. I have no intention of hurting you! I just want to talk for now.”

He looks behind him for a moment, as if he were looking out for someone, perhaps Yelan. Once he looks back, his smile and soft gaze return.

His tone is unbelievably sweet. You could feel his hands shaking, and based of his demeanor, you assume it was due to excitement. Even if he was trying his best not to show it.

“I’m Aether.” He introduces, smile never fading.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Your Grace” He replies, “I need your help. Khaenri'ah needs you.”

You raise your brow, “Khaenri'ah?”

He nods eagerly, “I am going to restore your nation back to its former glory, and now that you’re here, I have no doubts that we can bring it back.”

“Wait a minute,” you say, “you’re not of this world, why do you care about some ancient nation from five hundred years ago?”

His closes his eyes for a moment, “you’re right. I’m not from this world, but I’ve been here since that nation stood tall and I got to experience everything it had to offer. Everything you had made.”

He caresses the back of your hands with his thumbs, “Your Grace… when you returned to Teyvat few days ago, we in the Abyss we’re immediately aware of your presence. I tried so hard to find you, and I’m mad that I didn’t find you first. I should be the only one allowed to help you, only I know the truth of this world.”

“The truth of this world?”

Aether pulls you to stand up with him, “I know this may be hard to hear, but please listen to me.”

You could feel the anxiety crawl up your back as you wait for him to continue talking. You’ve been so blindsided by the False Creator that anything else that happened in Teyvat wasn’t a concern for you at the moment.

“The archons are taking advantage of your kindness,” he begins, “your world is becoming corrupted because of them. Teyvat never had this many monsters on it before, and it’s all their doing.”

You pull your hands away from his grip, his eyes widen but he lets go. “I know how it may sound but I would never lie to you Your Grace.”

You cross your arms looking away from him, “this is a lot to take in. Are you trying to tell me that I cannot trust my own Archons?”

He shakes his head, “I would never tell you what you can and can’t do, I’m just telling you do not be blinded because you know them from the past. It’s been centuries, they can change.”

Aether reaches out to grab your hands again, you put up no fight as he laces his fingers with yours and he smiles gently. “Come with me Your Grace. Together, we can get rid of the fake you on the throne and make Teyvat whole again. The Abyss will welcome you with open arms.”

“I’m not letting them go anywhere with you.”

Behind Aether, Yelan was holding a few sticks in her hand, but you could tell she would drop them at any moment if she had to go on the defense.

“You know for someone who doesn’t want anyone to know they’re on Teyvat, a lot of people keep finding you, Your Grace.” She teases.

Aether gives Yelan a death glare but makes no attempt to unlace your hands, “you cannot protect Their Grace like I can and how dare you talk to them like that?

She scoffs at his words, “I’m letting them go anywhere with someone from- what did you say?- oh right, the Abyss. You hate humanity. Their Grace will stay here where they belong.”

He scowls but brings his attention back to you, “it seems that we are already out of time.” He lets go of your hands reaching into his pocket to hand you a particular flower. “The next time we meet, I will not allow anyone to interrupt us… and I hope that you join me in the future.”

He turns around shoving his way past the girl walking off into the darkness.

“If we have to collect fire wood later I’ll take you with me, it’s too dangerous for you to be alone.” Yelan states taking a few steps toward you before dropping the sticks on the ground. “You Grace, just like with the Fatui, the Abyss cannot be trusted. I would even say they are more dangerous, whoever that man was, you should stay far away from him.”

You say nothing staring at the flower in your hand, you recognized it’s origins the second you saw it, the flower was from Khaenri'ah. Was this his way of telling you that everything he said was the truth, that he actually was around before and during the destruction of the nation. You bring the flower close to your chest closing your eyes.

“Erm, Your Grace?”

You jump at the sound of her voice, “sorry I’m just a little distracted.”

She gives you a reassuring smile, “don’t pay any mind to whatever he said. He was probably just trying to trick you and use your powers to destroy humanity.

Yelan kneels down fixing the sticks to build a fire. Even though you nod at her explanation you couldn’t help but feel relieved that she didn’t hear everything he had told you. Trying to explain the fall of a nation that no one should know existed anymore would be impossible, especially since you still had questions about it yourself.

“Here let me do it.” You kneel down using the Pyro element to light a small fire on the wood.

Both of you sit in front of the fire in a comfortable silence, but your mind kept going back to everything Aether had told you, was he telling you the truth? Or should you believe Yelan who said that he just wanted your power for the destruction of humanity.

“You should try getting some sleep Your Grace.” Yelan whispers, “I’ll keep watch over you.”

The overwhelming sense of fatigue washes over you, “are you sure?” You ask. She nods, “Of course, I would never forgive myself if something were to happen while you’re with me and I don’t think anyone else would forgive me either. The last thing I need is two Adepti mad at me. Please sleep.”

With that final reassurance you let yourself relax in the soft grass, the ancient flower Aether gave you laid by your side as you stare up at the stars. You couldn’t help but wonder how many more people were after you. The Fatui, the Abyss, and probably the Archons as well since the Gnosis alerted your presence to them.

You let out a breath closing your eyes. Wondering who you could possibly run into next.

A few days ago, Sumeru City

“Lumine you’ve returned, but you don’t have who I asked for…”

A few hours after Lumine and Nahida split away from the true Creator, they returned to Sumeru City. Nahida entered Irminsul like she said she would and now Lumine stood in front of the False One like before. Yet it felt different this time, if she were to mess up it wouldn’t just be her life at risk, many others were counting on her as well. The real Creator was counting on her.

The Traveler bows stiffly at them, “I have some… news regarding the task you gave me.”

They told their head at her statement sitting up straight in their throne. “Well, what is it? Don’t tell me they got away.”

“No Your Grace, it isn’t that. I managed to locate the individual I told you about. When I told them to come with me I guess they got suspicious that I was going to bring them back here and they took off running. While I was pursuing them, they fell off a ledge and…”

“Are you telling me that they are dead?”

Lumine, who was still bowing, nods a bit. “Yes, I checked myself.”

The False Creator lifts themselves of the throne walking slowly down the staircase until they stood right in front of the girl. They grip her chin lightly bringing her gaze to meet theirs.

“And where is their body now?”

“I pushed it into the river… I assumed since they look like you, no one else should see them.”

They smile, “how smart of you, but I’m still disappointed. All of amazing stories I’ve heard about you and you couldn’t do one thing I asked of you. I’m disappointed…”

Lumine swallows trying to keep her composure, she hadn’t felt this terrified since she had seen the defiled Statue of the Seven.

They let go of her chin crossing their arms behind their back, “now what should I do with you, Traveler? Can I trust you?”

“Yes your Grace! I will never tell anyone about this…”

They nod at her declaration, “don’t worry I trust you, but I can’t help but get a bit paranoid at times. So I hope you understand why I have to do this.”

“Do what?” She asks.

“Guards!” They call out and almost immediately a dozen Sumeru guards enter the room bowing as they await their orders.

“Take her and the fairy away. They’ll be staying in Sumeru for a little longer.”

The guards waste no time surrounding the Traveler pulling them away from the False Creator, Lumine tries to fight them off but there was too many of them.

“Don’t worry.” They say a smirk on their face, “I have no intention of hurting you or your companion, but I cannot risk this information getting out to any else in Teyvat.”

The Traveler is pulled out the room without another word the last thing she heard is the False Creator asking one of the guards to find Nahida immediately.

In Liyue, present day

“Wake up sleepyhead…” a voice sings.

A groan leaves your mouth as you turn over.

“Do I have to throw water on you? C’mon time to wake up!”

You open your eyes and your met with a kneeling Yelan who smiles at you.

“Ah, there’s those beautiful eyes.” She coos, “it’s time get moving if you want to make it to Liyue Harbor before sunset.”

You sit up rubbing your eyes, “you let me sleep through the whole night? Aren’t you tired?”

“You looked exhausted. Don’t worry about me Your Grace, I’ll be fine.”

Yelan holds her hand out to help you stand and you accept rising to your feet. Not without grabbing your flower first.

“Are you going to keep that?” She asks.

You look down at it, “well it is beautiful.”

“Alright,” she hums stomping out the campfire, “you ready to leave?”

You nod, “let’s go.”

Somewhere else in Liyue

The eleventh Fatui Harbinger was looking for someone.

It was supposed to be a close kept secret between him, the Tsaritsa, and the other Harbingers but he had accidentally slipped and told some of the soldiers under his command due to his anxiousness.

That slip up might’ve cost him what he was looking for.

He stares coldly at the few soldiers that kneeled at his feet, they were the ones he had sent to the Chasm.

“Lord Harbinger! Please forgive us!” One of them cry.

“We had no idea someone was listening to what we were saying.”

He scoffs at their excuses, “you’ve heard the saying about Liyue, there are ears everywhere. If you were under the command of any of my comrades they would waste no time in killing you.”

They tense up, even thought their eyes wasn’t visible due to their masks, they made no effort to meet his gaze.

“You’re lucky that I am in a good mood but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. Find that woman.” He waves his hand and they take off.

When he and the other Harbingers witnessed the glowing of the gnosis, it had cleared many doubts he had about what the Tsaritsa was thinking.

To clarify, his doubts were about the Creator. Or rather, the False One.

The Fake Creator had been on Teyvat way before Childe was born so as he grew up with his parents had told him all the amazing things they had done.

Then he fell into the Abyss and that’s when he first encountered the idea that the one on the throne wasn’t who they claimed to be. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind putting his focus on his family until he joined the Fatui.

In the Fatui is when he was reintroduced to The Creator not being, well, The Creator. Now it wasn’t something he could just push away, he actually wanted to know if it was the truth or not. The Tsaritsa explained to him that if they collect all seven Gnosis they can summon the real Creator back to Teyvat.

So when the Jester sent him to Liyue to collect Rex Lapis Gnosis, he jumped at the opportunity.

“Lord Harbinger…” a timid voice says, “we had located the woman.”

“And?”

“You were right, they are with her.”

“Lead me there.”

They were right. His soldiers were right.

A few meters up ahead he could see them and the woman he instantly recognized to be Yelan. She had popped up on the Fatui’s radar years ago due to her… persuasive methods of learning Fatui secrets from the lower ranks.

It felt as if he was frozen to the ground, he never expected to find you in Liyue. He believed someone else would’ve been the one to find you, but no, it was him.

He felt so lucky, he was going to be the first Harbinger you’d talk to.

“…and that’s how I got this jacket.”

You laugh a bit, “well aren’t you a sneaky one?”

“You’re right, she’s always sticking her nose in business that doesn’t involve her.” Childe smiles directly at you as Yelan puts her arm up in front of you defensively.

“I knew we’d run into you, but I didn’t expect it to be this soon.”

Childe laughs, “well I hope you don’t mind me taking Their Grace off your hands then?”

Yelan’s eyes narrow, “Their Grace isn’t something you Fatui can just take as your own. They are going with me.��

He rolls his eyes at her directing his attention to you, “Her Majesty the Tsaritsa has been waiting for you for a long time Your Grace. Come with me to Snezhnaya.”

Yelan looks back at you, “Don’t listen to him. This is the Fatui Harbinger Childe that I told you about. His motives are unknown.”

You look at the Yelan then at Childe.

“We in the Fatui would never hurt our Creator.” He states.

“What does Snezhnaya even have to offer Their Grace?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” He argues.

“Both of you stop fighting!” You say suddenly causing both of them to look over at you. “What does the Tsaritsa want from me?”

His dull eyes light up at your question, “Her Majesty believes she knows where the False Creator comes from. So as soon as you made your presence known, we began searching for you.”

You step closer to him despite Yelans warnings.

“She found out where the False Creator came from?”

Childe nods, “please come to Snezhnaya with me Your Grace. The False Creator is the reason you returned, right?”

“You’re right.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste anymore time.” He clasps his hands together.

You turn giving Yelan reassuring smile, “Yelan. Thank you so much for your help up until this point, and I will never forget everything you’ve told me but I have to go with him. If whatever the Tsaritsa knows is right, that could change everything.”

She nods bitterly, “if you must go, allow me to come with you. I’ll protect you with my life.”

You reach out grabbing her hand, “That’s sweet of you but I can’t. Even if I needed protection I can tell that he is way too powerful for you to defeat on your own. I promise that I will return to Liyue.”

She hold your hand tightly, “alright then. I’ll wait for your return.”

And with that, You leave Yelan alone as you walk off with Childe.

“How are we getting to Snezhnaya?” You ask.

“By boat, it’s waiting for us right outside Liyue Harbor.”

“Right outside?” You raise a brow.

He laugh a bit, “Well people from Snezhnaya aren’t welcome in other nations anymore. It would’ve drawn unnecessary attention us if we anchored at the dock, and I doubt the Liyue Qixing would let us be there anyway.”

You suppose his explanation made sense, he wasn’t the only person to tell you how unwelcomed Snezhnaya was in other nations.

“Your Grace,” Childe says after a moment of silence. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, it’s not like there’s anything else to do.”

He keep walking but stares at you, “what did Yelan tell you? About the Fatui I mean.”

“She told me that you all have done terrible things and how a few years ago you all had an unprecedented amount of power in every nation.”

He hums, “I see…”

It falls silent once more, as you both continue walking towards the nation of Geo.

A few hours after you had split with Yelan and decided to join the Fatui Harbinger Childe, you two (and the rested of his crew that trailed behind you) arrived at Liyue. All you had to do was walk across the bridge and you’d be in the Harbor.

However Liyue Harbor wasn’t your destination anymore.

Right off to the side of the bridge was a fairly large sized boat, Childe leads you to the hatch allowing you to step on first then he follows.

“The trip to the Zapolyarny Palace is only a few hours,” He explains, “but you’re going to need this when we get there.”

Childe digs through a chest pulling out a luxurious coat, it was made out of the finest materials Teyvat had to offer.

“One of my comrades had this custom made just for you. Well actually he had way more than one made so no matter who had encountered you first, you would have something to keep you warm once we enter Snezhnaya.”

You take the coat from him, the second the material touches your fingers you could tell how expensive it was. There was an insane amount of care and respect put into making this.

“That is very sweet of him,” you mutter, “I should thank him once we arrive.”

He lets out a sigh resting his head in his palm muttering to himself, “it will only go to his head…”

You want to laugh at his comment but decide you should pretend you didn’t hear him. Looking out to sea, your mind finally fills with everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.

Even though Childe told you that the Cryo archon figured out where the False Creator came from, you kept thinking about what Aether told you the night before.

Should you trust the Archons? Was the Tsaritsa leading you to Snezhnaya with a Trojan Horse? Or was it Aether that was lying to you.

You try to shake the thoughts out of your head, it would only be a few hours before you know for sure.

An unknown location in Sumeru City

It had been days since Lumine had been thrown into this dungeon. It wasn’t the same place the Sages had put her a year ago, it was probably a precaution so that none of her Akademiya friends found her.

“Traveler” Paimon whines, “what are we gonna do?”

Lumine brings her knees to her chest, “I don’t know Paimon. No one knows we are here, we have no way to reach out to the Creator or Nahida.

The fairy flys around sadly for a moment before her eyes widen, “wait a second! Why don’t you try reaching out to Nahida in your dreams.”

Lumine picks her head up, “you’re so smart Paimon! Maybe not using you as emergency food was a good idea.”

Paimon scoffs, “this is not the time for joking around! And for the last time, Paimon is not emergency food!”

The Traveler moves to lays down on her back steadying her breathing as she closes her eyes. Soon enough, she falls into a light slumber trying to the best of her ability to reach out to the Dendro Archon.

“…Nahida…?”

“Lumine…?” A familiar voice says, “I can hear you, where are you?”

“The False Creator. They locked me in some dungeon.”

“That’s horrible, did they not believe you?”

“No, I think they believed me… did you find anything in Irminsul?”

“Yes… it’s horrible… I’ve been searching for you everywhere to tell you.”

“Well, what is it?”

“The False Creator… they were created by Celestia.”

Note: this part took way longer to put out than the others, but I just want to say thank you so much for all the love on this series and for all the follows and reblogs you all have given me. I never expected this story to do so well!! :’)

And I know, I know, many people have maybe Celestia the enemy in SAGAU (be cuz they are) but I just trust me :>

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