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nachojaehyun · 5 months

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first fuck

pairing. office co-worker! mingyu + fem! reader

summary. fucking on the first date may not be acceptable for many, but when your date was that hot and signing the cheque at the end of the night, who were you to refuse having him in your bed?

playlist. first fuck by 6LACK and Jhene Aiko

warnings. [PLEASE READ] oral (f), lowkey pussydrunk mingoo, fingering, scissoring, kissing, clit play, mingyu is pussy whipped, slight gagging, gentleman mingyu, asking for consent <3 use of nicknames (love, mostly) — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. i got 8 asks about mingyu, so here it is. also thank you guys so much for your support on the wonwoo fic! more soon <3

“we’ll have the cheque please,” his deep voice said, making you shuffle your thighs closer.

as he signed the paper with his expensively heavy pen, he shot you a smile, carding his fingers through his hair.

“come, i’ll drop you off at your place.”

his car reeked of a musky wood, deliciously enticing just like him.

kim mingyu, as he told you he was called, was making your head spin.

conversations with him were easy, flowing simply between tongues, even though you wished his tongue was in your mouth—

the drive back home had your heart jumping. his white dress shirt was tucked into black slacks. taut muscles peeking under the folded sleeves, a shiny gold watch nearly blinding you.

everything about kim mingyu was luxurious.

you would be lying if you said it wasn’t making you drool. “oh, it’s this gate!” you squeaked, clearing your throat after.

unbeknownst to you, mingyu smiled at your nervousness, swerving the car to enter the gated community.

your apartment was quite easy to spot. as he stopped the vehicle in front of the building, you felt your heart about to leap out of your chest as he parked on the side and ran out to hold your door for you.

“mingyu-ssi,” you spoke up after thanking him. he was leaning against his car, hands stuffed in his pockets as he intently listened to you. “yes, love?”

red creeped up your cheeks.

“would you uh…” your fingers fiddled with the strap of your Coach purse. “would you like to come inside?”

“i thought you’d never ask.”

inside your humble home, you opted to brewing some coffee for you and your date. mingyu waltzed back and forth, analysing every detail of your apartment.

the cutesy decorations, the books laying around the house, the towels and clothes hanging to dry in the balcony— mingyu felt like he was learning every detail about you.

and it felt so right.

when his co-worker had asked him if he was interested in going on a date, mingyu had initially wanted to refuse. he had no luck with women for his entire life, despite being raised by a hardworking mother and two sisters.

however, when your name was mentioned, he couldn’t help but immediately agree to the meet up.

you were his favorite thing to watch in the office when he was bored. his favorite workplace muse. his favorite person to look at when he was stressed. his favorite picture to eye as his hands gripped around his c—

“mingyu-ssi?” your pretty voice beckoned. “yes, love?” his attention returned to you. “the c-coffee…”

the nickname rolled off his tongue like he was born to call you that. god, you were so pretty.

“ah,” he hurried over to the kitchen counter, smiling.

the dark roast made his lips tingle as he gulped it down. the coffee tasted amazing. he listened to you talking as his thumb traced the raised pattern on his mug.

“and then he said ‘it’s your fault for not buying more ink for the printer.’ can you believe him?”

your chuckle made his lips curl up. “he’s an idiot.”

“yeah,” you trailed off, resting your empty cup on the counter as you stared at the ground, fiddling with the ends of your red dress.

when mingyu called out your name, your breath hitched in your throat.

his mug was long forgotten on the marble countertop, as kim mingyu inched closer to your body. his knee touched yours, and it sent little sparks of electricity up your spine.

“can i… can i kiss you?”

you nodded slowly, watching his mouth split into a smile. within moments, you felt his lips on yours, softly engulfing your mouth.

his lips were pillowy as you grabbed onto his collar, pulling him impossibly close. with one soft bite onto your bottom lip, you gasped. your open mouth invited his tongue as he licked the inside of your mouth, groaning when your fingers bunched up his shirt.

he pulled away after a second, panting through his mouth as a string of salvia connected your mouths. “fuck,” you whimpered, glassy orbs melting into his dazed ones.

“bedroom?” mingyu smirked, grabbing your waist as he pulled you up from your seat. “straight down the hall, second door to your left.”

your knees were shaky as you stood up. chuckling at your state, mingyu pulled you close, tapping your ass as a signal. accepting the offer, you jumped into his arms.

your hands were slung around his neck as he carried you to the bedroom. however, your mouth was relentless, placing small kisses all over his neck as you unbuttoned his crisp shirt.

his scent was making you dizzy as you inhaled, licking up the sweat that gathered on his skin.

“shi- feisty aren’t ya?”

you were laid down on the comfort of your bed, back hitting the soft mattress as he laid you down.

kim mingyu stood between your legs, towering over your figure in his casual outfit. he looked absolutely delicious.

you made grabby hands at him, pouting at the distance that had manifested. with a chuckle, mingyu all but pounced on you.

his lips found purchase on your skin, teething it like a madman. your fingers clutched onto his strands, whimpering softly when he licked over the material of your dress.

“as much as i love this on you,” he started, licking his lips. “i think i would love it on the floor even more.”

you could only stupidly grin as you yanked the material over your head. the simple black underwear you wore had mingyu going feral.

how could someone be this fucking beautiful?

while he was analyzing your body like it was a work of art, you tugged at his shirt, giggling. “you want this off baby?” he smiled. when you nodded, he nearly ripped the expensive fabric in two, before leaning down and hovering over your body.

his lips trailed your stomach, leaving a trail of spit in their wake. when he reached the hem of your panties, he looked up at you.

despite the fire burning in his irises, he smiles at you. “may i?”

with a shy nod, you allow him to continue. he mentally thanked you. mingyu thinks he would have jumped from the balcony in your room if you would have denied.

you lift your legs as he pulled your underwear down, groaning into your thighs when he caught a glimpse of your pussy.

“perfect, so fucking perfect.”

he discards the ruined cloth on the floor, grabbing your thighs as he parted them. face to face with your cunt, mingyu feels his consciousness falling into the chasms of insanity.

he places a kiss on your inner thigh, before leaning his head on your skin. his hair tickles you as one of his hands come up from under your thighs.

“wow,” he gasps to himself, tracing your wet folds with his fingers. the contact has you moaning out loud, too desperate to feel any friction.

the pads of his fingers glide over your cunt, messily collecting the moisture. you think mingyu purposefully ignores your clit.

but the man was transfixed by your pussy, eyes drowning in wonder as he picked up his pace. “this is okay right?” he questioned, looking up.

he sees your face contorted in pleasure as you nod. “more than okay, minyu-ssi!”

“hmm?” he teases, slowly using his middle and ring finger to push inside your walls. “how about this?”

“f— hah! mingyu-!”

“answer me,” he demands.

“yes! so good!”

using his fingers, mingyu scissored your walls open, mesmerized by the squelching noises that came from within. your arousal dripped out of your hole in copious drops, and mingyu couldn’t help but lean forward, catching it on his tongue.

“fuck…” you groaned, clutching your new bedsheets.

“love… you taste so good,” his eyes roll back. mingyu wraps his mouth around your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth as his fingers fastened inside you.

your gummy walls squeezed his nimble digits for all their worth as his tongue laved over your puffy clit.

spit and arousal formed a puddle underneath you, as mingyu pushed his face further into your pussy.

his fingers had reached a heavenly pace, toying with your folds and curling into that one spot that had your toes quivering.

“you close, hmm? can tell by the way you’re shaking,” mingyu chuckled. his laugh sent vibrations all the way up to your lower back, making you shiver in pleasure.

“alright then love, cum on my tongue. make a mess with this cute pussy of yours.”

“s— shit!”

with a loud moan of his name, the knot in your stomach came undone. your orgasm crashed on mingyu’s tongue as the man between your legs slurped up every drop you gave him.

the aftershocks of that intense pleasure had you feeling incoherent, mind numb as you looked at him with blurry eyes.

tears coated your lashes. no one had ever made you cum so quickly. hell, no one had ever made you cum like that.

“no no, stay with me baby,” mingyu tutted as he got up from his knees, unbuckling his slacks at your already fucked out expression.

“i have so much to do you, we’re just getting started hmm?” he smiled, pushing his boxers down.

you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes. “i think… i love you,” you giggled out, biting your lower lip.

“yeah?” mingyu’s thumb grazed your chin, before slowly slipping past your lips as he forced himself into your mouth.

his thumb pressed down on the back of your tongue, making you choke loudly as you batted your lashes at him.

“i think you’ll love me more after this first fuck.”

#mingyu #seventeen mingyu #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #kim mingyu smut #seventeen #kim mingyu seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen smut drabbles #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #seventeen thoughts #nachojaehyun #kpop hard hours #kpop hard thoughts #kpop

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syddsatyrn · 8 months

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⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter One: A Sleepless Sovereign

Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.

⛧Words: 3.3k

⛧Summary: As Lucifer's advisor you are required to assist him with a number of things. That includes his schedule, many chores, and the occasional middle of the night panic attack.

⛧Notes: This is my first Hazbin Hotel fic! I hope you all like it because Alastor is my next victim. I just want to give poor Luci some love, he is such a cutie and he's been through enough! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and we love her for that.

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The sun rises and a soft glow illuminates the kitchen. Faint streaks of dawn get brighter as time goes by, the sky is painted with hues of pink and gold. Every day you wake before him and make his coffee. It was a morning ritual you’ve come to enjoy. The silence allowed you time to think and plan your day. As you fill a cup full of coffee, the smell permeates the air.

You carefully take the cup upstairs on a tray and down a long hallway. The air hummed with a faint scent of luxury. It's grandiose and extravagant manor, with gold trim in the hallway. Apples and angelic wings decorate the molding. Your footsteps echo against the marble floors until you stop at the large double doors. You open the right side of the door quietly. The room is dark, some light peeked through the window, but the long velvet curtains block out most of it.

He's so peaceful, lying there, the silk sheets covering his midsection leave little to the imagination. His messy blonde hair and soft face has always made your heart skip a beat. Soft snores escape his lips, you almost feel bad for waking him up while he’s in such a state.

“Your majesty?” You finally speak. The King stirs and covers his face with his hands. He lets out a small groan in response.

*It's time to get up, sir.” You say as Lucifer slowly and reluctantly sits up. You hand him his coffee with a smile, he looks up at you with drowsy eyes.

“Thank you, y/n.” He replied, taking a sip of the warm and bitter drink.

You start to stroll around his room, picking up clothes that have been tossed and putting them in the laundry basket. Lucifer watches as you pick up his messy room, sipping his coffee occasionally.

“You don't have to do all that y’know.” Lucifer says, feeling a little guilty about his disorganization.

“Oh but I do, sir.” You said with a straight face.

“Y/N, I don't know what I would do without you.” He admits with a soft chuckle.

You smile, your face turns a little pink but it's hard to tell with the lights off. You walk over to the curtains and draw them open. Lucifer doesn't look too pleased with how bright it is. You walk over to his wardrobe and shuffle through the many different articles of clothing until you find his white suit with red accents.

“Your daughter called, there are documents you need to look over and you have a meeting this afternoon.” You remind him as you place his clothes on the corner of his large bed.

“Can I just go back to sleep?” Lucifer pleads with you and you let out a small sigh.

“Every day you ask me the same question and every day I tell you the same answer…”

“So that's a no…?” He chuckles softly.

That is correct, your majesty.” You roll your eyes as you leave him to get dressed for the day.

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The relationship between you two has always been a little strange. You were hired many years ago as a maid for his estate. But after a small while grew to be his right hand, now you’re titled as his “advisor”. You take your job very seriously, everyday you make his coffee, bring him his meals, complete household chores, chauffeur him around, you even attend his meetings for him occasionally. Your entire life is devoted to your King, you felt it was a respectable title. You've worked hard to get to this point, and recognize the power that comes with that. After many years of proving yourself, Hell sees you as an extension of the royal family.

Lucifer had quite a soft spot for you, he offered you a room in his home so you can do your job without the bothersome commute. He pays you well and allows you access to many of his personal assets. The free room and board, along with never having to cook for yourself made it all worth it.

After some time you developed some feelings for him, but you would never admit that. You’re not up to that societal standard. You’ve always told yourself he could have anyone he wanted, which is true. The King of Hell was dashing and charming, but also extremely powerful. Despite all that he doesn't seem to fraternize with anyone, ever since Lilith left, it’s like he's lost that part of himself.

It was time for you to get yourself a cup of coffee and bring his breakfast to the dining hall. After finishing your task you sit down at the dining table and enjoy your coffee. Not long after, Lucifer emerges, dressed, but still looking rather fatigued.

“Did you not sleep well, sir?” You ask and bring your cup to your lips.

“No, I was tossing and turning all night.” He grumbles, the dark bags under his eyes are a dead giveaway.

“Hmm…you’ve been doing that quite a bit more often than usual.” You remark.

“I know! What is up with that? It's ridiculous.” The king says with a huff.

“Ridiculous indeed, sir.”

Lucifer called Charlie on his cellphone, and talked about the Hotel she was running. Charlie says he is due for a visit so you make a mental note to schedule that later. Your mind wanders as he talks on the phone while eating various fruits. The last time Lucifer wasn’t sleeping well he was having nightmares. You remember one awful night in particular, you were up late finishing some paperwork for him when suddenly you hear a scream coming from his room. You rush in and he's curled up in a ball, sobbing. You immediately crawl into his bed to comfort him, he laid his head in your lap and you played with his blonde hair until he fell back to sleep.

“Y/N…?” Lucifer says and tilts his head slightly. Looks like he finished his phone call while you were lost in thought. You shake yourself from your memories, a pink tint spreads across your face.

“Yes?”

“Something on your mind, my dear?” He asks with a look of concern on his face.

“No sir, it's nothing.” You assure him. Neither of you have spoken of that night since.

You continue to drink your coffee, Lucifer gives you a skeptical look and continues his breakfast. The day was a very average day. After breakfast Lucifer went to his study to read over some documents and sign a few things. You took his almost empty plate and cup to the kitchen and placed it in the sink for the staff to deal with. You text Charlie with a list of dates to choose from to schedule a visit, reassuring her that you’ll make it happen.

Next is time to clean Lucifer’s room. It's not disgusting by any means, more like cluttered. He tosses stuff on the floor absentmindedly and you always end up tidying the place at some point. Besides, you are the only one allowed in his room, who else is going to do it?

You collect all the empty liquor glasses and place them on a silver tray along with the empty decanter. Making his bed was rather difficult due to it being so large, but you manage like you always do. You tidy up his bathroom, finding more clothes tossed on the floor, you put them in the laundry hamper as well. You leave his room with the silver tray and take it to the kitchen. The staff fill the decanter and give you clean crystal glasses. You return to his room and set the tray on his desk. After that, you take the basket of clothes to the laundry room.

Before you know it, the clock strikes one and you make your way to Lucifer's study. You open the door softly and enter, you set down a small tray with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies on his desk. He picks up the cup and takes a sip, the tea is exactly how he likes it.

“Are you here to tell me I have to attend another one of those annoying meetings?” Lucifer asks in a slightly irritable tone. He spins the chair around to face you, his yellow eyes fixate on yours.

“I’m afraid so, your majesty.” You reply. Lucifer groans and slumps back in his chair. Sometimes he can be a little childish, you cover your mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Y/N, I can’t sit through another one of those meetings. I will literally wilt away into nothing.” Lucifer says, he turns to face you and takes your hand in his. He softly squeezes it, your face turns a little pink as you look down and meet his begging eyes with yours.

“Can you go instead? Pretty please?” You can never resist those eyes and he knows it. Your face softens and you squeeze his hand back.

“Okay, but don't make this a habit.” You say you let go of his hand. Still trying to retain some sort of professionalism.

“Thanks doll, I owe you one.” He says with a warm smile, the same smile that makes your heart skip a beat every single time. You bow and leave him to his work, once you get behind closed doors you let out a long sigh, you truly don't want to attend this meeting either. But it can’t be helped, the show must go on.

You grab your overcoat, cellphone, keys, and meet the driver out front. It didn't take long to arrive at Carmilla’s manor. You have been asked to attend a meeting with the overlords and report back to Lucifer. The guards led you through the manor to a large meeting room, you open the door and it seems everyone is in attendance.

The V’s, Zestial, Alastor, Rosie, Zeezi and Ms Carmilla Carmine herself. You take the empty seat next to Zestial.

“My my, I didn't think Lucifer would send his pet, but Miss Carmine, I thought there was a No Dogs Allowed sign out front?” Alastor immediately starts with the catty behavior. You don't have time for any of this, you need to be home soon to serve supper.

"Your words are like a bad song on repeat. Spare us." You retort with your arms folded. The Radio Demon gives you a sinister stare and you roll your eyes at his half baked attempt at scaring you.

“Please, can we start this stupid meeting? I have somewhere to be.” Velvet says looking at her phone, not paying much attention to anything else. Vox agrees with her and Carmilla begins to speak on various topics.

The meeting felt like it ran longer than expected, it was concerning how we move forward now that exterminations are no longer an issue. They spoke of which towns were hit the hardest by the attack, what kind of ongoing plans they have and how to proceed with caution, for we do not trust the Angels and their hidden intentions. After a while, the conversations started to devolve into personal ones.

“Lucifer will be assisting the Pride Ring as best he can, any requests for aid on his part can go through me for approval. Trust that they will be hand delivered to him in person. The King wants nothing more to provide relief for his people.” Was the last thing you said before getting up and excusing yourself from the meeting, politely.

When you make it back to the car, you let out a sigh of relief. It's finally over, time to head back to the manor. When you returned it was already late into the afternoon. You hang up your coat and head to the kitchen, you pour Lucifer a small glass full of whiskey and ice. Before you put the bottle back in its place you take a quick swig, that meeting was just agonizing. You needed something to take the edge off.

You walk to the study with the glass on a silver tray, as you open the door, she sees Lucifer in his chair, reading.

“Good afternoon, your majesty.” You greet him with a smile and a short bow.

“Ah good, you’re back. How was the meeting?” He asks, genuinely curious.

“It was…interesting, to say the least.” You reply while handing him the glass. “I can see why you did not want to attend.”

“They are so insufferable, right?” He says and takes a sip.

“Indeed, sir.” You don't wish to mention Alastor’s comment from earlier, the last thing you need to do is give him something to be cross about.

“Dinner will be ready soon. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” You ask politely.

“Oh no, you always do so much. Thank you Y/N.” Lucifer takes another sip of his whiskey.

You dismiss yourself and head down to the kitchen to help prepare dinner for yourself and Lucifer.

Lucifer spins around in his chair and takes a sip of the drink you left him with. He’s trying to hide it but he’s absolutely exhausted. Lately when he’s tried to sleep, memories flood his mind like ghosts of the past. The absence of warmth beside him was a void he could not fill. When he will be free from the torment, he is unsure. But every day he wakes up and there you are, right beside him as always. He knows you try to put off a cold exterior, you’re the king's guard dog after all. You were always one to never indulge your secrets but he knew a few things about you that no one else did.

The night you held him in your lap it looked as though he had fallen asleep. While you carded your fingers through his hair you whispered “I wish you knew how remarkable I think you are.” He heard you loud and clear. The King always had a space in his heart dedicated to you, but you’re his advisor, consultant, and au pair. How would the world see you both as a couple? It was certainly something that would be looked down upon by most. A bell rings and pulls him from his thoughts, dinner is ready.

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He sits in his usual spot and you always sit on his right side. Dinner was a mix of high grade meats and vegetables. You cut into your food and display proper table manners, Lucifer sneaks glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

“I scheduled a time for you to visit your daughter's hotel this Thursday.” You remark and Lucifer nods with food in his mouth.

“Good, I’ve been meaning to visit, I’ve just been so tired lately, and If I’m not tired I’m busy.”

“You need some proper rest, sir.” You state the obvious. You wish there was something else you could do to assist him with this.

“Trust me, if I had the choice I’d be asleep right now, my dear.” He takes another bite, his face looks a little forlorn. Usually you would keep to yourself unless Lucifer would outright say something is wrong, but this is different.

“Is there something wrong, sir?”

“No, it's nothing, Y/N. I’m just tired, I swear.” He says, trying to brush off any depressive feelings. You give him a bit of side eye but decide to let it go. But deep down you knew something was troubling him. It was just a matter of if and when he will tell you. You both continue eating, he tells you about the book he's reading in hopes to clear the melancholy vibe in the room. You sit and listen to him ramble on like any other normal day.

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It was getting late, Lucifer was in his room, drink in hand. Outside, the world slumbered beneath a blanket of stars, oblivious to his pain. With the window open he seeks solace in the cold night air. But the chill only served to remind him of the emptiness inside. He downs the rest of his drinks and sets it on the nightstand. He crawls under the covers and closes his eyes and wraps his arms around himself as he tries to get some rest.

But all he could see is her, walking away, leaving him heartbroken and devastated. A single tear falls down his cheek. He buries his face in the pillow and tries to forget these memories, good and bad. The minutes pass like fleeting shadows, and Lucifer finally starts to fall asleep. But not long after he wakes up in a cold sweat with a scream. His chest heaves and he feels like he can’t breathe, he looks down at his shaking hands.

You were doing your rounds in your silk pajamas, locking doors and shutting windows. You said goodnight to the kitchen staff and headed upstairs. Then suddenly you hear a loud scream come from Lucifer's bedroom, you immediately rush up the stairs to the door and open it.

He’s sitting upright in his bed, knees against his chest, holding his face in his hands. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he recalls the haunting memories. You don't say anything, you quickly sit beside him and place your hand on his back. He immediately pulls you in for a hug, you’re surprised at first but you hug him back. He buries his face in your shoulder, letting out soft muffled sobs.

“Shhhh…it's going to be okay…I’m here…I’ve got you.” You whisper soft words of reassurance in his ear, he just hugs you tighter.

“I’m so sorry…” He says between sniffles and you start to gently rub his back. You wished there was a way to stop him from feeling so miserable, but all you can do is sit and comfort him for as long as he needs. In the safety of your arms, the remnants of the dream began to dissipate. Your familiar voice and smell provided a soothing counterpoint to the chaos of his mind.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear.” You say as you pet the back of his head, his face finally emerges from your shoulder and meets your gaze. You gently wipe away any stray tears with your thumb and give him a soft smile. “Tough times don’t last, tough people do, and you’re one of the strongest people I know.” You say just barely above a whisper.

A small smile appears on his face and you brush away a few stray hairs, glad that your king is feeling a little better. “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel more at ease?”

“I do have one request…But I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it.” He says, while looking away, he’s definitely embarrassed by his own question.

“Try me.” You reply, it can’t be that bad, he’s never asked you to do anything you’re not okay with.

“I would really appreciate it if I didn't have to sleep alone tonight…” He finally asks, he blushes a little, unsure if that's even okay to ask. You can't help but also turn a little red, this is absolutely not allowed, but maybe the rules have exceptions in times of crisis.

“Yeah…I can do that.” You agree.

Lucifer’s golden eyes widen and he perks up a bit. “R-Really?”

“Yes, really.” You chuckle softly.

Lucifer crawls back under the covers and opens his arms for you to join him. You crawl over to him and settle in, his arms wrap around you and you lace your fingers with his hand, allowing him to spoon you. His body heat and the chill night air was the perfect combination to lull you to sleep.

“Goodnight Luci~” You say before sleep starts to drag you away from this world. A nickname you lovingly use very rarely. He nuzzles your shoulder and drifts off rather quickly with nothing but a content smile on his face. When you two will admit your feelings for each other is a mystery, but for now, you’re happy just to be his biggest support system. If there's one thing you’ve learned living with Lucifer, it's that devotion in any form, is love with wings.

#lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x you #lucifer x reader #Lucifer Morningstar x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin spoilers #hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor

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phoward89 · 5 months

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Based on this ask

Young President!Coriolanus Snow x Call Girl!Reader, Dom!Coriolanus

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is in himself his own warning. Dubcon, Noncon, choking, impact play, kissing, degradation, biting, p in v, breeding kink, creampie, talks of sex work, talks of past sex trafficking, talks of poisoning/murder

You stare out the pitch black tinted window as the driver of your black luxury car drives you to your destination, the Presidential Palace. You've been acting as President Coriolanus Snow's personal high class call girl for years. Well, ever since he became Head Gamemaker and saw you in Pluribus Bell’s illicit, but high end sex club.

Pluribus had acquired you when General Byzantine had put you up on the auction block after using you (and literally torturing you) as his personal fuckdoll. Despite looking like a broken piece of shit, hatred and fire burned in your beautiful eyes. According to Pluribus, it was the look in your eyes that made the old man buy you; put you in charge of the girls in his sex club.

So, basically, Pluribus made you a Madame. Not that you minded. Hell, it meant that you didn't have to fuck nutjob, crazy, overly kinky whackjob Capitol men anymore.

But when Coriolanus Snow came into the club, after being invited by Pluribus after breaking off an engagement (why things didn't work with the Cardew banking heir, Livia, you didn't know; didn't care either) and laid his icy blue eyes on you, well, he just knew that he had to have you.

At first you told Pluribus no when he approached you with Snow's request, but then the platinum blonde pretty boy cornered you with an offer you couldn't refuse. A private penthouse, your own car and driver, a black Amex, and never having to work another day if you agree to be at his beck and call as his personal call girl.

His high class girl, as he called you.

That was 5 years ago.

Yea…

At this rate you'll probably be President Snow's high class girl forever.

Hopefully he finds himself a wife so you can move on with your life. Maybe take all that money you have squirreled away and get a nice beach house somewhere in District 4. The weather's lovely there. Maybe you'll even find somebody to settle down with; even have a kid or two.

It'd be nice to be able to retire from whoring. You've been in the game since your family sold you at age 15 to pay off debts. You've been fucking for a living for a decade now; it's getting old.

But at least the President is the kindest out of all the men you've been with, which is saying something because Coriolanus is as cold as his name, Snow.

You're so far inside of your head that you don't even notice the car stop or your driver, Herbie open the door.

Herbie clears his throat, only.to announce, 'Ma’am, we're here.”, causing your self imposed spell over your mind to break.

“Thank you, Herbie.” You simply told him, stretching your hand out for him to help you out of the car.

“I'll be here waiting for you, Ma’am.” Your driver told you, shutting the door once you were out of the car.

“Thank you. I won't be long.” You politely assured Herbie before walking towards the side entrance of the Presidential Mansion, which was marked with a trellis of vining; blooming roses. The side entrance leads straight to Coriolanus' personal living quarters; of course you had the key for it.

Your black designer stilettos loudly echo against the marble as you walk up the white and gold staircase that separates the president's personal living room, sitting room, kitchen, and dining room from the bed chambers, bathrooms, and his private study. You've only ever been in his bedroom and the sitting room. Both were immaculate, so you assume that the rest of his living quarters in the presidential palace must be extravagant too.

One thing you've noted about President Coriolanus Snow over the last few years of knowing him is that he has high class taste. A posca taste, if you'll call it. The more expensive, the better.

And it's that trait of his that has you baffled about why he's kept you around so long to fulfill his needs. Surely he can find himself some young, beautiful, and naive high class twit from a rich family to groom into his perfect classy woman.

His First Lady.

Surely, he must be getting tired of paying for you- putting you up in a high end penthouse that's about a 5 or so minute drive from his palace. Back before he became president your place was literally the next building over from his. Yea, that's how classy and ritzy of a penthouse you're in.

“I'm in my room, darling.” Coriolanus called out to you as soon as your heels clicked against the marble of his second story floor.

No shit, he's in his room. He's always in his room. He's either sitting on the bed end settee or on his ornate sofa, but either way he's donning his waistcoat and smoking while waiting for you. The epitome of regal master.

“I’ll be right there, Coriolanus.” You called back, speeding up your steps slightly to reach the white and gold scrolled double doors of his chambers.

Opening the door and walking inside, you spot him lounging on his cream sofa. His legs are crossed and he has an arm lazily thrown over the back of the sofa’s ornate mahogany frame. Coriolanus’ platinum hair his in its natural curly state, which is a rarity, but also means that he ruined his slicked back look by running his hands thru his hair all day- something he does when frustrated or nervous. And, like always while awaiting your visit, he's smoking.

“Darling, I told you last time you were here to call me Coryo.” The President told you, reaching his arm out to tip his ashes into the crystal ashtray that's on the mahogany coffee table.

“I'm sorry, Coryo. I forgot.” You lied thru a smile, a smile that was so fake it wasn't even funny.

You didn't forget, you just don't want to call him nicknames. Not when you know that your arrangement has an expiration date; one that'll be coming up soon enough.

Sitting up, he pointed to you with his cigarette and said, “Show me what you wore for me tonight.”

He did this every time you came over for his booty call. It was a ritual you're used to. You'd be shocked if he didn't ask you to model the lingerie for him.

With a sultry smile, you untie and unbutton the long red trenchcoat you're wearing. “It's a new set that I bought the other day.” You inform Coriolanus while opening up the coat and letting it fall off your shoulders; onto the floor.

President Snow's mouth watered as he took in your form dressed up in a lacy black bustier and matching cheeky panties along with those black stilettos with the red bottoms- the ones that he loved seeing you in. He thought that those heels did wonders for your legs, legs that he loved to have wrapped around his body- whether he was fucking you or feasting on your cunt.

Snubbing his cigarette in the crystal ashtray and rising from the sofa, the president smirked, “I do enjoy it when you go lingerie shopping, my darling rose.” Striding over to you, only to circle you like a predator circle's it's prey, the regal platinum blonde looked at you hungrily. As if he's starving and you're a filet mignon.

Coriolanus stopped right in front of you, only to give you a smoldering look while unbuttoning his maroon waistcoat, his long fingers moving lithely. Shrugging off the vest and chucking it towards a nearby sitting chair, he closed the distance between you. His tall form towers over you; you know what he wants from you.

It's what he always wants from you.

You ran your hands over his chest, which was quite toned underneath his crisp white dress shirt, and pressed your lips to his Adam's apple. As you kissed a tantalizing trail down his neck and to the collar of his shirt, leaving blood red lips tip stains in your wake, his large hands snaked around you. His breathing was husky and lustful as you lifted your head up, staring straight into his baby blues, while unbuttoning his shirt. Your red nails a stark contrast to his shirt.

“I have a business trip I need to attend in 12.” Coriolanus said while you pushed his shirt off of him after opening it up. You just nodded, raking your red nails up and down his chest before tweaking his nipples. Just the way that he likes.

You thought that all talks of his meeting was over, so you leaned forward to kiss him, but he stopped you by lifting up one of his hands and grabbing your chin. “The mining bosses are having some issues with their workers meeting production goals; I'm leaving in the morning and you're coming with me.”

Your eyes went wide. You can't go to 12. No, you won't go to 12. You refuse to go back to that shit hole you once called home, where your family- that sold you into a life of sexual slavery to a brothel for money to pay off drinking debts- lives.

“I'm not going to 12, Coriolanus. We'll see each other when you get back.” You firmly told him.

Which wasn't what he wanted to hear. In fact, he wanted you to nod your head; maybe make a remark about needing to pack, and then get to fucking him. You refusing him was never in the cards.

You just dealt him a hand he wasn't expecting. But, President Snow's an excellent poker player; he'll make due with the cards you've just given him.

Coriolanus' large hand slipped from your chin only to grab your throat. His face dipped so close to yours that his hot breath, which smelt like smoke, mints, bourbon, and coffee, fanned over your face. “I'm not asking you, Y/N. I'm telling you that you're coming to District 12 with me.” His thumb pressed into your windpipe, not hard enough to cut off your breathing, but hard enough to make you wheeze and pay attention to him as he spoke in a cold, authoritarian tone. “I fucking own you, so when I tell you to do something you do it. You don't get to say no to me.”

President Snow looked like a crazed, disheveled mess as he chastised you. And you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on. Because it did.

Oh how it did. It might be wrong being turned on by a power hungry zealot who's telling you that you're his property, but the way he looked while doing it. Hot damn, it made your pussy pool; stain your black lacy panties with a wet patch.

Yea…you're pretty fucked up at this point in your life.

The platinum blonde's large hand slid from your hip over your lower belly, only to sneak under the waistband of your panties. He dipped his mouth to your ear, grabbing your pussy in his large calloused hands, while telling you, “I own this pussy, darling, and if I want to fuck it every goddamn day of my business trip then I sure as hell will.” Coriolanus bit your earlobe, hard enough to crack the pearl earring you're wearing.

An earring he bought you in the early days of your arrangement.

He pulled away, only to look at you darkly. Spitting the cracked pearl earring in your face, he pulled his hand out of your underwear. He brought his fingers up to his prominent nose, only to inhale your scent. His eyes fluttered shut and his face contorted into a look of pleasure. He was, for a lack of a better word, getting high off of your musk.

Oh yea, the President sure was something else…but who are you to judge? You're his personal whore, so…

His icy eyes popped open, with a lust filled crazed look, as he sucked his fingers one by one. Savoring the taste of your juices while keeping his tight hold on your neck with his other hand. His tongue swirled around his pinky, the last finger to be licked clean by him. “You taste divine. Too bad you need to be disciplined for your rude behavior and won't be having your cunt eaten by me tonight.”

“Disciplined for my rude behavior? Coryo, the only thing I did was tell you that I'm not going to 12.” You spoke up, standing your ground to your, for a lack of a better word, owner.

Coryo’s fingers pressed hard into your neck, no doubt leaving behind finger shaped bruises that would need covered up by IL MAKIAGE tomorrow. Looks like you'll have to make another trip to Sephora soon if you don't want to have bruises all over your neck shown off to the public. How embarrassing would that be, going to various stores with chokehold bruising all over your neck. You shudder at the thought of it.

“Talking back is rude behavior, baby.” He hissed before pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was hard and bruising. Biting your lower lip; drawing blood, he pulled away from the kiss. Giving you a dark, slightly unhinged look, the stoic platinum blonde swore, “Bad girls get spankings and you're going to get so many that you won't be able to sit on your red, hot ass tomorrow during our damn train ride.”

Coriolanus is sitting on the red velveteen settee at the end of his gold and red velvet framed bed. You're bent over his knees, ass up in the air while your head rests on the settee. Your arms are outstretched; your hands arm firmly grabbing the end of the red velvet material for purchase as the President smacks one ass cheek and then the other.

*Smack, smack*

Coriolanus chuckles at how red your ass is. He's been at this for a while now; both of you have lost count of how many times his hand has come down on your cheeks. He rubs the sting out of your red ass cheeks before raising his hand high up in the air and bringing it down on the right cheek, only to repeat the action on the left cheek.

*Smack, smack*

Your designer black heels are still on your feet, so they sway in the air as you kick out of reflex due to the spankings. God, he would make you keep the heels on for this. Hell, this spanking session seems to be the longest in your entire life with him. Usually he indulges in a slap or two to your ass while taking you from behind, but never anything like this.

But it could be worse. He could be a crazy, torture hungry, fucking sadist like that crazy ass General Byzantine was. The man who beat you within an inch to your life and put you up on the auction block once a couple of his Avoxes had nurtured you to suitable health.

You were overjoyed when he died about 4-4 ½ years ago. All the media outlets say that General Byzantine died from tainted tea at one of the popular tea houses in the Capitol. Apparently Coriolanus was there with him, having a meeting for political purposes since he was running for Senate and nearly died. You remember that he had canceled your sessions for a week, but still put a hefty sum in your bank account; even requested that you wear a certain color lingerie (blood red) when you resumed your little booty calls with him once he recovered from nearly dying from tainted tea.

Your black lacy cheeky panties slid up your ass crack from the force of all the spankings. Coriolanus didn't say a word, just silently righted the panties before landing another pair of smacks to your ass cheeks, causing you to let out a loud squeal.

“Did my bad baby girl learn her lesson, or do you need more?” President Snow asked, his ardent tone a bit dark and mocking as he soothed your ass by rubbing it- with both palms this time.

“I've learnt my lesson, Mister President, Sir.” You told him, choking back a moan as you grew wetter and wetter from his hands just rubbing the sting out of your ass. Oh God, how your core aches for his cock.

Coriolanus let out a deep, throaty moan at your answer. He loves it, fucking loves it when you call him Mister President and Sir. Oh, and put them both together- yea he's fucking feral.

The president slightly opened your legs, only to swipe a long finger up your wet, clothed center. “Oh, darling, you're soaked.” He proudly announced. “Is that all for me?” Coriolanus rhetorically asked, already knowing that it was all for him.

You knew that the platinum president didn't need an answer, but decided to indulge him with one anyway. “Yes, Coryo. It's always for you.”

Coryo bent down and peppered your beet red ass with kisses. The plushness of his lips against your hot sensitive skin makes you squirm. Chuckling, Coriolanus sat up and pulled your heels off, one by one, and let them fall to the floor with a loud thud. He helped you stand on your feet, only to pull down your panties and toss you onto the bed.

As you lay on your stomach, head buried in his pillow, which smelled like him- like roses, you heard the sound of Coryo slipping out of his black floor shines while unbuckling his belt. You peeked over your shoulder, only to see him quickly unzipping his maroon pants. You turned back around, resting your head back on his pillow, as he quickly shed his pants and boxer briefs.

“Lift your ass up high for me and spread your legs as wide as they'll go, baby.” The President ordered you, to which you obliged him. Your ass was raw and stung, but your pussy was throbbing with need, as Coryo kneeled right behind you on his king sized bed. “Fuck, you're always such a needy lil slut for me, darling.” He remarked upon seeing your cunt dripping and glistening for him.

Looking over your shoulder, you smirked, “Only for you, Coryo, my Mister President.”

The platinum blonde's icy eyeballs nearly rolled into the back of his head at your words. Words that went straight to his cock, making it harder- if that was even possible.

“Yes, I'm your President and you're my perfect, pretty, lil slut.” Coriolanus groaned, teasing your clit with the angry, red, leaky tip of his cock. “You remember that the next time I tell you to do something, baby girl.” He said, grabbing your hips and snapping forward; sheathing his entire 8 inches into your soaking wet cunt. “Fuck, darling, you're so goddamn tight for me.” Coriolanus groaned, pulling out only to surge forward, causing you to mewl out in pleasure.

President Coriolanus Snow has a big cock and he sure does know how to use it. That's for sure. And you let him know that too.

“Of course I'm tight for you, Coryo. You're the biggest cock I've had, the only man whose tip kisses my cervix; whose girth stretches me out with a delicious sting.” You honestly tell him, stroking his ego and making him start to pound into you relentlessly.

Hearing you say that out of all the men that you've had in your whoring career that he's the biggest and the best makes his heart soar with overwhelming pride. So much so, that he'll just have to keep you around.

Permanently.

Coryo doesn't think that you'll have any protests about it. Maybe he'll bring up the idea while you're away on business in 12. Use the time away as both a vacation and a business trip. There is a vacant cabin in the woods that he knows of by a lake that could be a setting for a romantic night or two.

“Oh…fuck…Coryo…” You moan into the pillow that you're holding onto for dear life as you surge forward with every hard, fast thrust Coryo gives you.

“You like it when I fuck you face first in the mattress like a dirty fucking slut, don't you darling?” He groans, rutting even faster while placing a hand on the middle of your back; pushing you further down into the mattress. “Fuck, you're so sexy like this, baby.” The President huffs. “So fucking sexy.”

You moan into the pillow, but it comes out in a heap of garbled drools, as Coryo's cock hits that special spongy spot deep inside of you while his heavy cum filled balls slap against your swollen, neglected clit.

“That's it, baby. Fuck yourself on my cock, you pathetic slut.” Coriolanus encouraged in a half groan as you began to meet his thrust with ones of your own. You could help it, you needed to cum so badly. Fucking yourself on his cock while he pounded you was the only way to do that.

Turning your head, so that the side of your face rest on his drool soaked pillow, you mewl and whine, “So close, Coryo. I'm so close.” Feeling that coil in your lower belly tighten, you beg, “Please, let me cum, Mister President. Please, make me cum.”

Coryo quickly unhooked the long row of clasps that held your black lacy bodice together while cooing, “Don't worry, my pretty baby, I'll make you cum” The bodice fell off your shoulders, but Coryo slipped his arm around your middle and pulled you up on your knees, only to yank the black bustier off of you; tossing it to the side.

Coryo's hands instantly grabbed hold of your tits as he continued to harshly fuck you. His hands squeezed them roughly and pinched your nipples, all the while your hands clawed his wrists for leverage as he felt your climax coming on. Coriolanus knows you're close by how your cunt's clenching around his cock. “Fucking cum for me, darling.” he ordered, biting the crook of your neck.

The feel of his teeth roughly nipping your skin, only to use his tongue to soothe it, paired with his deep, erratic thrusts, his heavy balls slapping against your clit deliciously, and his large, calloused hands roughly fondling, had you cumming with a loud moan. A moan that was a string of curses mixed with his name: Coryo.

He fucked you thru your orgasm only to shove you back down onto the bed and plunge his cock hard and fast into you. His pounding was so relentless as he chased his own release that you felt another orgasm on the cusp. Oh gods, his cock felt so fucking good hitting you on all the right spots.

Oh fuck…

“I'm gonna fuck you full with my heirs, baby.” Coryo panted, his thrust becoming sloppy. “Can't wait to fucking knock you up; see your belly swell with my growing baby inside.” He babbled as his hands roughly held onto your shoulders for leverage. “You're gonna look so beautiful all round and full of my baby, my darling rose.”

You didn't pay him any mind. Didn't say a word about his string of impossible words. You're on birth control, so his fantasy of knocking you up is just that. A fantasy. A breeding kink, to be politically correct.

Coriolanus’ hips stuttered, once, twice, three times before he was moaning, “Fuck, Y/N, baby. Fuck…”, and filling your pussy with hot ropes of his thick cum.

Feeling his hot cum spurting into your womb sent you over the edge. “Coryo…” You mewled, cumming for a second time.

He didn't stop and pull out like he usually did.

No…

This time, Coriolanus kept fucking you. He fucked his load right into your pussy, causing you to let out a shaky moan from both overstimulation and your third orgasm of the night.

Coryo finally pulled out, but only after filling you up with a second load of his thick, hot cum. Cum that was somehow leftover in his balls from the first time.

The President smugly grinned as he watched his second load of the night slowly drip out of your puffy, abused pussy- looking like beautiful white pearls.

Ah, pearls. That reminds him…

“I bought you a new jewelry set for the trip. Fancier pearls than the ones you had; they're packed in your bag.” Coriolanus told you, sitting by your side and rubbing your back as you lay on the bed like a ragdoll.

Ugh. Of course, he bought you new things, including luggage, and packed them up for the damn trip to District 12- your personal hell- that he's dragging you on.

When you didn't say a word, Coryo pushed the strands of sweat soaked hair away from your face and asked, “Are you alright, baby?”

Pushing his hand away from your face, you simply assured him, “Yea, I'm fine.”

Nodding, he told you, “I'll call your driver, tell him that you're staying the night; then I'll run us a bath.”

You've never stayed the night before, prompting you to ask, “Why're you letting me stay the night with you, Coryo?”, as he stood up.

“We're needed at the train station bright and early, Y/N. It's just easier for you to stay here so we can head out together in the morning.” The President explained before taking off to do the things he told you about.

Of course, he wanted you to stick around tonight so he can make sure that you're on that train with him heading to 12 in the morning. You're his personal high class girl. His glorified whore. If President Coriolanus Snow wants you with him tonight to ensure that you step on that train with him tomorrow, so he can fuck you during his stupid business trip in hell, then that's what he's going to get.

You don't have a say in the matter. You're just around until he gets bored of you; finds something younger and prettier to satisfy his carnal desires with.

Only you thing you don't know is that President Coriolanus Snow’s never going to get bored of you or trade you in for a younger model. In fact he thinks you're the best girl he's ever had.

Hell, the devil himself knows that the President killed for you- even if you don't know it.

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cherryl4na · 3 months

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ `"lamborghini miura and date nights pt. 1"

abstract || you and lando enjoy life outside of all the chaos that comes with him being 'The Ace'

fem!reader || fluff. steamy. mafia au. lamborghini miura. will be a pt. 2. heavily inspired by the suit at a mclaren event and the outfit at cannes. 3.6k words

Lando Norris’ penthouse is the epitome of luxury and power, a sanctuary high above the city’s restless heartbeat. The expansive living space is a testament to modern elegance, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the skyline, the city lights twinkling like distant stars.

When stepping out of the private elevator, you’re greeted by a foyer with polished marble floors, leading into an open-concept living area. The décor is a blend of classic and contemporary, with rich, dark wood paneling and sleek, minimalist furniture. A grand piano sits in one corner, its black lacquer finish reflecting the soft glow of the overhead designer lighting.

The lounge area is dominated by a large, plush sofa that faces a state-of-the-art entertainment system, and a glass coffee table holds an array of high-end spirits and crystal decanters. Original artworks adorn the walls, and a collection of rare books fills the built-in shelves, revealing Lando’s taste for the finer things in life.

The dining area features a long, ebony dining table surrounded by leather-upholstered chairs, perfect for hosting intimate gatherings or conducting discreet business meetings. Adjacent to it is a gourmet kitchen, fitted with professional-grade appliances and a sleek breakfast bar.

The penthouse also boasts a private gym, a spa-like bathroom with a Jacuzzi and a rain shower, and a walk-in wardrobe that houses an impressive collection of designer suits and racing memorabilia.

Lando’s personal quarters are a sanctuary within a sanctuary. The master bedroom is spacious, with a king-sized bed taking center stage, draped in the finest silk linens. A private balcony extends from the bedroom, offering a secluded spot to take in the breathtaking views or simply enjoy a moment of solitude.

Every detail in Lando’s penthouse speaks of a man who commands respect and enjoys his success, yet values privacy and comfort above all else. It’s a space that’s both a showpiece and a retreat, reflecting the complex character of ‘The Ace’ himself.

As of now, the evening had settled over the city like a velvet shroud, the skyline a jagged silhouette against the twilight sky. Inside the luxurious penthouse, Lando Norris watched you with an intensity that belied his calm exterior.

You stood before the full-length mirror, the soft fabric of your Versace dress cascading down in waves of midnight blue, a stark contrast to the elegance of your skin. The room was filled with the quiet rustle of silk and the subtle scent of vanilla from your perfume. It was a rare occasion, this dance of preparation, and Lando found himself captivated by the ritual.

He leaned casually against the mahogany door frame, arms crossed over his chest covered with a white Nordstrom silk shirt that has been left unbuttoned just slightly to exude enough sensuality but keeping it decent, his two usual gold chains around his thick, tan neck as his eyes followed your every move. There was something about the way you moved, the confidence in your gestures, that drew him in. It was a dance he had seen many perform but none with such genuine disregard for the world’s expectations.

“You don’t have to impress anyone,” Lando finally spoke, his voice a low rumble in the opulent room.

You met his gaze in the mirror, a small smile playing on your lips. “I’m not trying to impress,” you replied, your voice steady. “I’m trying to remember who I am beyond all this,” you gestured vaguely, encompassing the grandeur of the room and, by extension, the life you had found yourself entwined in.

Lando pushed off from the doorframe, his steps silent on the plush carpet as he approached. “And who are you exactly, in this world?” he asked, stopping just a breath away from you.

You turned to face him, the intensity of his gaze compelling you to answer with truth. “Someone who still believes in a bit of normality, even in a world as cynical as ours.”

His chuckle was soft, a sound that warmed you more than any embrace. “Then perhaps this will serve as a reminder,” Lando said, producing a small, black velvet box from his pocket.

He opened it to reveal a delicate gold chain, from which hung a pendant crafted in the shape of a lotus, its petals open as if reaching for the last rays of the sun. “The lotus blooms in the mud,” he murmured, his fingers deft as he clasped the necklace around your neck.

The lotus flower, revered across cultures and spiritual traditions, embodies profound symbolism and meaning. Emerging from muddy waters yet remaining unstained, it symbolizes purity of heart, mind, and spirit. Its ability to bloom immaculately amidst adversity speaks to resilience and strength, teaching us to persevere and flourish despite life's challenges.

It serves as a timeless metaphor for the human experience — a reminder that through adversity, purity, and spiritual growth, we can rise above the murky waters of life and blossom into our fullest potential.

You reached up to touch the pendant, its cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth of his fingers still lingering on your skin. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered, gratitude lacing your words. Lando stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours. “As are you,” he said, not as a compliment, but as a simple statement of fact.

With a smile that matched the warmth of his words, you followed Lando out of his luxurious penthouse. The evening air greeted you with a gentle breeze as you made your way towards the private garage, where a sleek, vintage Lamborghini Miura awaited. Its navy paint gleamed under the soft glow of the penthouse's exterior lights, exuding elegance and power in equal measure.

"You're driving this?" you asked, your voice a mixture of surprise and excitement, a smile slowly inching its way on your face.

Lando nodded, a playful glint in his eyes as he held open the passenger door for you. "Well, how else did you think we’d travel? I figured we could take a little drive before our reservation. Trust me, it'll be an experience you won't forget."

As you move to settle into the plush leather seat, Lando places a hand on your head to make sure it’s protected from the roof of the car. Heading around the car, Lando enters the driver side, and effortlessly starts the engine, causing the powerful rumble to fill the air around you. The car eased out of the garage with grace, navigating the city streets with the familiarity of a seasoned driver. The night enveloped you both, the city lights painting a canvas of twinkling stars overhead.

With each turn and straight away, the Lamborghini carried you through the cityscape, the wind whispering secrets as it tousled your hair. In the midst of this exhilarating journey, Lando's presence beside you remained a constant source of comfort and excitement, his occasional glance your way a silent promise of more adventures to come.

As you ventured further into the night, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the hum of the engine and the shared moments between you and Lando. In the soft glow of passing street lamps, you realized that this impromptu drive wasn't just about the destination—it was about the connection forged in the quiet moments between heartbeats, where each glance and smile spoke volumes about the budding romance in the air.

And as the Lamborghini carried you both towards an unknown horizon, you couldn't help but feel that this night was just the beginning of a journey filled with endless possibilities, where every twist of fate was waiting to be explored together.

With each mile that passed beneath the Lamborghini's wheels, the cityscape transformed into a mesmerizing blur of lights and shadows. Lando navigated the streets with effortless precision, occasionally stealing glances at you, his expression a mix of anticipation and contentment.

As the vibrant pulse of the city gradually gave way to quieter, tree-lined avenues, the Lamborghini slowed to a stop in front of a stately building adorned with ivy-covered walls and softly glowing lanterns. You looked up, realizing you had arrived at a charming and exclusive restaurant known for its exquisite cuisine and intimate ambiance.

Lando turned off the engine, and the sudden silence enveloped you like a comforting embrace. He stepped out of the car, swiftly coming around to open your door with a gentlemanly flourish. As you emerged, the cool evening air wrapped around you, carrying with it the tantalizing aroma of fine dining and the promise of a memorable evening ahead.

The entrance of the restaurant welcomed you with a warm glow from within, casting a soft halo around Lando as he extended his hand, inviting you to walk with him towards the door. You accepted graciously, feeling a flutter of excitement mingled with a touch of nervousness. This evening had already surpassed any expectations you might have had, and yet, you couldn't help but wonder what surprises lay in store.

Inside, the ambiance was elegant yet inviting, with soft music playing in the background and flickering candlelight casting a soft glow over linen-covered tables. The maître d' greeted you warmly, confirming your reservation and guiding you both to a secluded corner table with a breathtaking view of the city skyline.

As you settled into your seats, Lando's gaze met yours across the table, his eyes sparkling with a quiet intensity that mirrored your own emotions. The evening stretched out before you like an uncharted path, each moment unfolding with a delicate grace that seemed to deepen the connection between you.

Conversation flowed effortlessly between bites of exquisitely prepared dishes and sips of fine wine, punctuated by shared laughter and stolen glances that spoke volumes. In the intimate setting of the restaurant, surrounded by the soft murmur of other diners and the gentle hum of city life beyond the windows, it felt as though time had slowed to a perfect cadence, allowing you both to savor every fleeting second together.

And as the night progressed, you found yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, attraction, and a growing sense of intimacy that seemed to bloom with each passing moment. Across the table, Lando's smile was a beacon of warmth, his presence a reassuring anchor in the sea of possibility that stretched out before you.

As dessert arrived, accompanied by a flourish of culinary artistry that mirrored the magic of the evening itself, you couldn't help but marvel at how a spontaneous drive in a Lamborghini had led to this moment of shared connection and undeniable chemistry between you and Lando.

The restaurant hummed with a subtle buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses, yet your attention was solely on the man sitting across from you. Lando, with his easy charm and magnetic presence, had swept you off your feet from the moment you met. His laughter was infectious, his stories captivating, and as the evening progressed, you found yourself drawn deeper into his orbit.

The evening had been filled with unexpected turns—a scenic drive through desert landscapes that stretched endlessly under a starlit sky, conversations that ranged from lighthearted banter to deeper musings about life and dreams. Each moment seemed to unfold effortlessly, as if fate had orchestrated this encounter.

And now, as dessert was served—a masterpiece of flavors and presentation—you felt a surge of anticipation mingled with a hint of nervous excitement. Lando caught your gaze, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and admiration. Without a word, he reached across the table, his hand finding yours with a gentle yet confident touch.

"Care to dance?" he murmured, his voice low and filled with a magnetic charm that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't resist the invitation, nor did you want to. With a smile that matched his own, you nodded, allowing him to lead you onto the small, cleared space between tables where other diners watched with subtle curiosity.

As "Hola Senorita" by GIMS and Maluma began to play softly in the background, Lando pulled you close, his hand firm on your waist as he guided you in a slow, sensual sway to the seductive rhythm of the music. The heat of his body pressed against yours, sending a wave of electricity through every nerve ending.

In that intimate embrace, the world around you faded into a blur, leaving only the two of you moving together in perfect synchronization. His touch was both gentle and possessive, his gaze never leaving yours as if trying to convey a thousand unspoken words.

The sensual dance unfolded like a whispered promise of what could be—an unspoken acknowledgment of the undeniable chemistry that simmered beneath the surface. Each step, each turn spoke volumes of desire and connection, drawing you closer to Lando in ways words could never capture.

As the song neared its end, you found yourself breathless yet exhilarated, caught up in the intensity of the moment shared between you. Lando's lips curved into a tender smile as he guided you back to the table, where dessert awaited—a sweet ending to a night that had begun with a drive and culminated in a dance that resonated with the magic of newfound connection and possibility.

And deep down, beneath the surface of whispered promises and shared glances, you knew that this evening was only the beginning—a prelude to a story waiting to unfold, where each chapter would be written in the tender moments and stolen kisses that danced on the edge of tomorrow.

After settling the bill, not without a bit of banter over who pays, you both stepped out into the cool night air, the echoes of laughter and shared stories still resonating between you. The Lamborghini awaited, a sleek silhouette against the dimly lit street, its engine purring with restrained power.

"Where to now?" you asked, half in jest, half in earnest curiosity.

Lando grinned, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, "Anywhere but here."

With that, you slipped into the passenger seat with his help of course, the leather embracing you with its luxurious warmth. The engine roared to life, the city lights streaking past in a blur as you navigated the winding roads together. The night was young, and so were you, in this ephemeral moment where time seemed to slow down just for the two of you.

Conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving through dreams and aspirations, fears and triumphs, each revelation knitting your souls closer together. It was as if the universe conspired to create this perfect interlude, where nothing existed beyond the confines of the Lamborghini and the burgeoning connection between you.

As the city lights began to fade into the rearview mirror, you found yourselves on a quieter stretch of road, surrounded by a tapestry of stars overhead. The car slowed to a stop, and you both stepped out onto an overlook, the city sprawling below like a sea of twinkling lights.

Lando's eyes held yours, their intensity magnified by the intimacy of the moment. You could feel his heartbeat, steady and reassuring, echoing the rhythm of your own. The night draped around you like a velvet cloak, cocooning you in a world where only the two of you existed.

His hand found yours, fingers intertwining effortlessly as if they had always belonged together. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver of anticipation through you, a silent invitation to let go of any lingering doubts or hesitations.

Leaning closer, his breath mingled with yours, warm against your lips. The air crackled with unspoken words, each heartbeat resonating like a whispered promise of what could be. You could smell the subtle scent of his cologne, a comforting familiarity that grounded you in the present moment.

When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was like a symphony of emotions unfolding in slow motion. Soft yet insistent, his kiss spoke of desire tempered with tenderness, a delicate balance of passion and restraint. Time seemed to stretch and bend around you, the world narrowing down to the sensation of his lips moving against yours, tracing the contours of a connection that defied words.

His arms encircled you, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The warmth of his embrace cocooned you in a sanctuary of shared vulnerability, where every touch and caress spoke volumes of unspoken longing and mutual understanding.

Under the canopy of stars, the Lamborghini Miura stood sentinel, bearing witness to a moment that transcended the mundane. The engine's purr became a backdrop to the symphony of your shared breaths, the quiet rustle of fabric as you leaned into each other, seeking solace and passion in equal measure.

As the kiss deepened, the world around you faded into insignificance. There was only the taste of him on your lips, the press of his body against yours, and the electric current that surged between you, binding your souls in a dance as ancient as time itself.

In that timeless embrace, you felt a surge of emotion swell within you—love in its purest form, unguarded and unfiltered. It was a declaration whispered in the language of touch and sensation, a silent vow that this connection was worth cherishing, nurturing, and exploring with every fiber of your being.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and exhilarated, Lando's eyes held a glimmer of unspoken promises yet to be fulfilled. His thumb gently brushed against your cheek, a tender gesture that spoke of reverence and devotion.

In the quiet aftermath, as you stood entwined under the stars, you knew that this night had forever altered the course of your story together. Each heartbeat echoed the cadence of a new beginning, where the chapters ahead would be written in the shared moments of vulnerability, passion, and the unwavering bond forged in the embrace of that unforgettable night.

Feeling the cool metal of the Lamborghini Miura against your back, you smiled as Lando drew you close, his touch tender yet commanding. His fingers traced a delicate path along your jawline, sending a thrill through you that echoed in the warm summer night around you.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was both soft and consuming, a perfect blend of longing and urgency. You leaned into him, feeling the strength of his embrace against the smooth, cool surface of the car's hood beneath you. The night seemed to hold its breath as you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours, the mingling of your breaths creating an intimate symphony.

His hands, strong yet gentle, explored your back with a reverence that made your heart race before finally reaching their destination. He grips the back of your plush thighs in a way that makes you feel weak all over. The hood of the car digs into you as he places you gently on it, moving to stand between your legs.

Making this moment as intimate as possible, his veiny hands move to grip your waist and pull you closer till there is absolutely no space between the two of you. Every touch, every caress deepened the connection between you, amplifying the heat that coursed through your veins. Time seemed to stand still as you savored each moment, each kiss a testament to the unspoken desire and passion that burned between you.

In that moment, surrounded by the soft night air and the distant murmur of the city, you were entwined in a dance of intimacy and yearning, where nothing else existed except the electricity of his soft lips against your own, his touch caressing you as if you’re made of glass.

As you both pull away from each other, the air between you thick with unspoken words and the promise of what the future might hold, Lando reaches out to gently stroke your cheek. His touch is warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine that have nothing to do with the cool night air.

"Let's head back," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with emotion, lips plumped up and red. You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of contentment settling over you like a soft blanket. Together, you gather yourselves and step back towards the waiting Lamborghini Miura.

The drive back to Lando's penthouse is quiet, the purr of the engine providing a soothing soundtrack to your thoughts. You steal glances at each other from time to time, exchanging small smiles that speak volumes about the bond you've forged this evening.

Arriving at the penthouse, Lando parks the car with practiced ease. He takes your hand as you both exit the vehicle, his touch reassuring and grounding. The night feels alive with possibilities as you step into the elevator, riding it up to his luxurious apartment high above the city.

Inside, the penthouse is a sanctuary of modern elegance and comfort. Lando leads you to a balcony overlooking the glittering skyline, where the city lights twinkle like stars in the night sky. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you close as you lean against the railing together.

"This night," he begins softly, his voice carrying a hint of wonder, "it feels like everything has changed, but at the same time, hasn’t."

You turn in his arms to face him, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his eyes. "It has," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "In the best possible way."

Lando smiles, a smile that reaches his eyes and fills you with warmth. "I'm glad," he says, leaning in to kiss you gently for the third time that night, as if sealing a promise made by the night itself.

And as you stand there, in each other's arms, the Lamborghini Miura waits below like a silent witness to the beginning of your love story — a story that started with a car, a journey, and two hearts finding their way to each other.

an || hey guys! i've had this in the works since early june and finally got around to semi finishing it. this will have a pt 2 and i apologize if it takes a while to come out. hope you enjoyed this and there will be more to come! and to my girls, you know who you are, i hope you loved this.

#f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #f1 drivers x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff

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muddyorbsblr · 1 year

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feels like mine pt1

See my full list of works here!

Summary: You wake up in a bed that isn't your own, living a life that seems to be pulled straight out of your wildest dreams

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+ | mentions of death; slight gaslighting (?) [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: everything is not what it seems; twist at the end

Your eyes squinted to adjust to the brightness of your bedroom awash with the morning sun. Looks like Mother Nature chose to be a little too chipper this morning and tried to blind you with its rays shining straight into your room.

You rose from your bed, your hands flopping on to the ultra soft comforter that sunk beneath the pressure.

Weird, you thought to yourself. I don't remember checking in to a hotel, and God knows my bed isn't this soft. You slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and alarm bells immediately ringing loud in your head when you looked down at the pristine white sheets.

"This isn't my bed," you said aloud, hopping down from the mattress and assessing your body, ensuring that you were free to move and your limbs weren't tied down in some capacity keeping you captive in what would have been a bizarrely cozy looking prison. You assessed your clothes next; mainly to see if you were even wearing any, your brows shooting to your hairline when your hands touched a lush satiny fabric covering your curves. "These aren't my clothes."

You rushed over to a mirror situated on a door that you assumed was a closet, your confusion growing by the second when you saw that the reflection looking back at you was…yourself. Exactly as you were last night before you went to bed, only clad in a navy blue nightie that looked like it cost over a week's pay. And wearing a ring that probably cost your soul.

The items on the nightstand by the side of the bed you'd woken up on raised even more questions. A black leather-bound journal with a gold 'H' pressed on the spine, a fountain pen, a laptop, a tablet, and a Kindle Oasis. An almost exact match to the items on the nightstand that you knew by heart, but each item was a more luxurious variant. For one, you wouldn't in your right mind ever buy yourself a Kindle Oasis. Or an S.T. Duponte fountain pen.

On the opposite nightstand were a stack of papers bound together with brass fasteners and a pair of reading glasses with a grade that moderately blurred your vision when you held it close to your eyes. You decided against looking at the contents of the book-bound papers in case there was anything confidential you weren't meant to glimpse in its contents.

You checked on the door next, seeing if it was locked from the outside. It wasn't.

You stepped out of the bedroom, assessing your surroundings to find any semblance of information that would tell you where you were and why you were here, only to grumble out of sheer frustration, "This isn't my apartment." To start with, apartments didn't have stairs. And your place didn't have nearly this much windows.

"Did I…shift?" Your voice softly echoed off the walls, staring in disbelief at the framed picture before you. Your hair and makeup impeccably done, a flower tiara delicately put in place at the top of your head, clad in a downright whimsical wedding dress and smiling brilliantly at the groom whose back was turned to the camera, your only hint at who he was being broad shoulders and brown slightly curly hair.

The unmistakable sound of vegetables being cut led you down the stairs and into the kitchen, desperately hoping it would lead you to who your mystery husband was and maybe start making some sense of this downright crazy predicament.

But catching a glimpse of the well over 6-foot lean frame dressed a white button-down shirt tucked into black dress pants that put a way too familiar butt on proud display had you itching to wake up because this was most definitely a concerningly vivid dream.

That is definitely not my husband.

No way on God's green Earth were you married to Tom Hiddleston. This just went from bizarre to downright impossible.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he greeted you in that low timbre that had your knees buckling, setting aside his task at hand and removing his apron before walking over to you.

"Hi…" you answered him, voice wavering. Before you could speak another word, he framed your face in his hands, thumbs softly running across your cheekbones, and then pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. "What're you--"

"We finished filming early," he answered, words murmured against your lips. "I caught an earlier flight so I could see you sooner. Oh I've missed you so much." He pressed his lips to yours again. "My darling wife."

Okay, I definitely shifted. This body you may have woken up in had your face, and probably your maiden name…but this wasn't your life. You were occupying space meant for someone else. Another Y/N.

"Tom, I think I have to--"

"Whatever it is can wait." He kissed you again, this time he pressed against you a little harder, your heart beating wildly in your chest when you felt a light, tentative lick to your bottom lip. "Just let me hold you a little while longer." He wrapped his arm around the small of your back, cradling your head with his other hand as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, sighing in contentment.

You knew you were seconds away from abandoning all your plans to try and get him to listen when he started pressing numerous open-mouthed kisses along your neck, your whole body growing weak when he started nipping and licking at the skin. "Please it's important. I don't think I'm supposed to be--"

The feel of him groaning into your skin made your knees give out, making him hold you tighter against him. He walked you backwards until your back pressed against the wall, your breathing labored as he kissed along the expanse of skin exposed to him by your negligee.

When his kisses started traveling south and he pressed his lips to the swell of your breast, you knew you had to get your words out before you gave in and let him have his way with you, however far that may be. "I'm not supposed to be here," you blurted out, pressing your palms to his shoulders and inwardly cursing at yourself for making him stop. "I know that I might sound like I'm not making any sense but…I think I shifted realities…? It's bizarre to me because I never actually succeeded until now but the point is--"

"Sweetheart, slow down." He began to rub his hands up and down your arms, calming you down some within seconds and once again making you question this reality. And how he knew what to do when you began to ramble and spiral in your own thoughts. "You say you're not supposed to be here. Where do you think you should be? Tell me what you know and perhaps I can help from there."

"My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I'm a software engineer in the middle of a career shift. Last night I went to sleep in a one bedroom apartment in Anaheim. I was no one to you. At most a faceless name that sings your praises online. Definitely not…" You waved your hand in a sweeping gesture across your surroundings. "This," you finished, your breath hitching in the back of your throat when you caught sight of his expression, eyes shining with tears that were seconds away from falling down his cheeks.

"What a bleak life," he breathed out, pressing his lips to your forehead as he pulled you into an embrace. "I can't imagine having to live in a world where I didn't know you. Didn't love you." He kissed your temple. "Thank God it was just a dream."

"A dr--A dream?" you sputtered, confusion overcoming your thoughts. Surely it wasn't that simple. That easily explained. You could remember in vivid detail the code you worked on last night, the bumpy bus ride on the way back to your apartment. The last story you read written by your friends online before you finally laid your head on your pillow and succumbed to an exhausted slumber.

Something about Tom's character on The Hollow Crown and barn sex before he was to face off against the Dauphin of France.

"Yes, my love. Nothing but an awful vivid dream," he reassured you, soothing you with the low velvety tone of his voice, partnered with the kisses he was softly peppering all over your face before stopping at the corner of your mouth. "Your name is Y/N Hiddleston. We've been together for five years, and you gave me the unique honor of becoming your husband less than a year ago. You were a software engineer amidst a career change when I met you all those years ago, and you've come so far since then. You have amazed me at every turn, and it's been a privilege to witness all that you've done. And all that you will continue to do." He captured your lips in a tender kiss, making you melt into his arms as you crossed your hands behind his neck, allowing him to pull you closer. "You just need a few minutes to readjust after waking up. Everything will come back to you soon enough. And any details that don't return to you I'll happily fill those blanks in."

It was almost like the protests that remained in your mind got muffled at his assurances. He spoke about you with such conviction and fondness and love that it made it sound beyond reproach. All that remained was the faintest murmur of doubt that you quickly recognized as those few hours of disbelief you would go through after waking up from a particularly vivid dream, much like those ones you had back in college where you mourned the loss of your best friend and you internally panicked for hours until he walked into the classroom looking every bit as alive as he had the day before.

"Just a dream…" You tested the words on your tongue, the explanation steadily becoming more and more palatable than your initial theory of successfully shifting. Your eyes met Tom's again. "Sorry I…kinda freaked out back there--"

He pressed a delicate kiss to your lips to stop you. "There's no need for apologies, sweetheart. You were disoriented, and I'm grateful you confided in me that you were instead of holding it all in." He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, the gesture bringing a smile to your face and causing a small giggle to escape your lips. "How about you head back upstairs and get ready for the day, and I'll finish whipping up breakfast?"

"That…sounds like a good idea," you agreed, unable to keep the smile off your face even as he kissed you again. "I'll go take a shower and then…I'll be back down here in twenty minutes?"

Tom loosened his hold on you, hands smoothing down your sides before he took a step back so you could make your way up the stairs. Before you passed him, he took your hand in his to call your attention again, bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss to each of your knuckles. "I love you," he whispered against your skin.

"I love you, too," you said back, biting your lip as you gave him a smile before heading back up the stairs, your doubts calmed and your panic from earlier subsiding, allowing you to simply look around the house and appreciate the beauty and joy that your life granted you in stark contrast to last night's dream.

Just as you stepped on to the top landing of the stairs, a flash of green glinted at the corner of Tom's eye, diverting his attention to the visitor in the kitchen.

"She is a perceptive one, your mortal," Loki mused, staring down at the ingredients on the cutting board. "A part of her recognizes that she is no longer within her universe. That part could linger…fester, even. Are you truly certain you wish to continue down this path? To risk her finding out the truth and resenting you from stealing her away from her life--"

"What's the alternative, then?" Tom snapped, gripping the countertop so hard his knuckles were going white, hot tears finally falling from his eyes. "Go on the rest of my days without my wife? Let her go back to a world where she said it herself, she's no one to me?"

Loki let out a sigh, taking a few steps towards the door to the patio, the tension and frustration evident in his stance. "She did not deserve the life she was designed for, on that I do agree. But it will take time for her to fully acclimate to this new universe, if you truly wish to keep her here. And you must accept that no matter what you do, she may never fully fill the space that your late wife left behind."

Tom's eyes burned with more tears, indignation and grief making his heart ache even worse at the memory of you -- that is, the you that he lost not even three days ago. "I know that," he said through gritted teeth. "What of the people who heard news of her passing? The people on set who saw me when I got the call? They're going to ask her questions when they see her alive and well. Questions she won't be able to answer."

The god simply waved a hand dismissively. "Simple memory spell. Their recollection of events will simply be altered wherein they recall you receiving a call and you needed to leave and halt production to ensure her safety, not see to her funeral. Her record at the hospital has been expunged. Any and all evidence that suggests that the Y/N Hiddleston of his universe is no longer with us has ceased to exist."

"Thank you," he choked out, walking up to the god and extending a hand.

"Of course. You deserved not the life you'd planned with your wife taken so violently." Loki took your husband's hand in a firm shake. "Now, I know it may not be my place to tell you what you should be doing at this moment. But from where I stand, you have just been reunited with your wife. If you're open to suggestions, I would recommend putting the apron down, going upstairs, and simply enjoying the life that has been returned to you. Breakfast can wait."

With those words, Loki disappeared in a flash of green right as Tom turned around and headed up the stairs in your direction, heeding the god's advice.

A/N: Something tells me that when I told y'all there's a Centrum Ad Hiddles story coming your way, y'all probably didn't expect this…and to be honest I didn't think I was even gonna make a Centrum Ad Hiddles story, let alone one that took this direction. 😳👀 I hope you like it though, slightly dark twist and all 😅💖

‘everything’ taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989

Hiddles taglist: @spooky1980

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

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hometoursandotherstuff · 6 months

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This 1924 New Orleans, Louisiana home was remodeled in 2021 and it's fabulous. 5bds, 5.5ba, $2.425M.

Enter a large reception hall.

The sitting room is lovely in deep blue with a white marble fireplace and wide crown molding.

Off the sitting room is a matching dining room with a lovely marble art deco fireplace.

Beautiful light gray kitchen remodel has a distinctly French look. I like the black counters and how they contrasted the island with white.

Next to the kitchen is an elevator.

Love how they hid the laundry in closet so the bath looks beautiful.

Look at the size of this shower. Love the bench.

The primary bedroom is lovely. Enough room for 2 large shelving units and a corner fireplace. I like the details over the doors and the color of the muted color of the room. There's also a very light gold pattern on the ceiling, complemented by the gold chandelier.

This beautiful bedroom is also spacious.

It has a walk-in closet with a chandelier.

And, it has a nice en-suite.

Small home office has doors to the garden.

A luxurious bath with an armoire and a chaise.

Cute smaller bedroom has a corner fireplace, too.

The baths in this home are all beautifully done.

Wonderful upper deck.

The garden is so pretty, it has to be professionally landscaped.

Behind the house is a large, gorgeous pool and a second residence.

Some may call it a guest house, but it's full sized home.

This is beautiful, I wouldn't mind living in this house.

https://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/6028-Prytania-St_New-Orleans_LA_70118_M72306-90619

#NOLA homes #houses #house tours #home tour

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dontbesadsanaexist · 2 months

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𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑔𝑒 & 𝒮𝓊𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒

━━━━━━━━━━━━━❦━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(1/2) (2/2)

"Okay, what do you think?"

Nayeon opened her eyes as you finally told her she could. She took a long, long time to observe you, and closed her eyes again. "Next!"

"What-you don't like it?"

"Frankly... No."

You pouted and looked at yourself in the mirror while adjusting the bottom of the short black dress. Nayeon appeared behind you, arms on her hips. "Don't pout like this. It's not my fault you look like you're going to your aunt's funeral. Go change."

You turned around and stared at Nayeon.

"What ?"

...

"My god Y/n! Is your dressing that empty!"

She left the bedroom to go to her room. You heard her seeking in her clothes before she came back. "Here you go."

You took the hanger she handed you and put it at your height.

"Isn't it too... Revealing?"

"Put this on and you'll charm everybody, trust me. Boys and girls."

"O-okay."

────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────────────

The luxury restaurant where the bal took place wasn't too far from your university, so you just had to take the bus to get there (even though going in a bus with an evening dress is not the best idea). You had only been invited because Sana asked them to, so you decided to wait for her in front of the gold poles decorating the entry of the restaurant. By the time she made it, she looked anything but happy.

"Let's go already." She simply said while not even waiting for you.

You entered the main room and immediately felt that weird feeling in your stomach.

The place was chic. Many tables were already filled with laughters and half-drunk glasses of wine. The restaurant was enlightened by the large chandelier in the middle of the selling. Underneath all those noises, two musicians played violin, and another the piano. Observing your surroundings, you would have never guess that one day, you would step in such a place.

A waiter passed near you with a tray of empty glasses, and a bottle of Champagne in his other hand. Watching him excusing himself for the wait made you feel guilty.

Usually, you would find yourself on the other side, and being here with that dress of yours, waiting for the waiter to ask for you command isn't exactly what you thought you would be doing instead of serving those plates.

The door that lead to, what you presumed, the kitchens opened. You gulped.

Joshua...

You haven't told him you would be part of this event, but just that you won't be able to work tonight. Seeing your worried expression Sana touched your shoulder softly. "You okay?"

You flinched at her touch and chuckled lightly. "Yeah, I just need to use the bathroom, if you excuse me." You stood up from your chair and made your way towards the bathroom. Just as you were about to open the door, a figure came in front of you.

"Nice dress."

Joshua eyed your up and down, taking his time to admire the midnight blue fabric descending your body and letting your curves on display with a slot on the right part of the dress. "I-it isn't mine... It's Nayeon's actually." You looked down as if he was about to reprimand you for not telling him you would be here.

"She has good tastes."

Joshua saw the guilt appearing on your face and he laughed. "Don't blame yourself for being here. You should enjoy your night! I mean, it's not every day that we get to be invited by the Minatozaki Sana right?"

"How do you k-"

"I know everything, don't forget that. But, friend advice: don't trust her too much."

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "Why?"

"She's a bitch."

You didn't have time to ask for more as you heard Joshua's name being shouted from the kitchens. "I should get going now, see you later!"

He left you in front of the lady's bathrooms. You resumed your previous action and entered the white room. You couldn't stop but kept thinking about what Joshua said. She's a bitch?

For you, he was completely wrong. The way Sana looked at you and talked to you was screaming nothing but pure kindness and innocence. What happened in the park made you realize that you haven't been this close with a girl in a while (except Nayeon of course, but she lives with you so it doesn't count). Yeah, sure, Sana at first was selfish and mean. But you were sure that it was because she didn't know you. Now that you spent all those moments with her, mostly at work of course, you know that she sees you differently, maybe even as a friend.

But even if she was the way Joshua described her, you couldn't help it. You couldn't help that each time she talks to you, your heart skips a beat. That whenever you happen to make her smile, you were smiling even more. Yes, she was a grown woman, famous and rich, and you were just a small college student that happened to know her, but you couldn't help it.

Wait...

You can't have a crush on her in such a small amount of time can you?

The water was chasing the soap away from your hands when you heard the door opening. The girl next to you took a paper from the machine and wiped what seemed to be a spot on her red dress. She turned her head in you direction and saw your gaze on her. You immediately looked away.

"It sucks isn't it?" You hummed and closed the faucet before shaking your hand to remove excess water. She handed you a paper and you thanked her.

"You're Y/n right?" She asked, which sounded more like a rethorical question.

"Yes?"

She looked at you up and down and tilted her head. "Sana didn't tell me you looked like that."

"Like what?"

"Pretty."

Heat took place in your cheeks at the feeling of being complimented by such a gorgeous woman. "T-thank you."

"I'm Momo." She stretched her hand and you shook it. "My name is Y/n. You know Sana?"

"Yeah, we're friends."

Momo opened the bathroom door and invited you to leave first. "She said you worked for her, is that true?"

"Yes, I mean... Not completly but kind of." She nodded as you looked at your table's direction and saw that Sana was no longer there. "Is there a problem?" Momo could feel your confusion.

"Sana isn't here..."

Screw Sana.

"Oh it's okay, you can sit with me."

She took your hand in hers, making you a bit taken aback by her move, and led you to a table near the bar.

"So, how is Sana?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is she kind with you?"

You shifted in you seat to arrange your posture. "Yeah. She's very kind. She gave me a way to upgrade my grades and also invited me to go to this bal with her so.... I think she's even more than kind."

"Right..." Muttered Momo.

"What did you say?"

"Oh nothing, nothing."

She put her hand into her palm and stared at you. You felt uncomfortable as you saw her gaze slowly scanning every curve of your face.

"S-so heum... How did Sana and you meet?"

"We had a mutual friend."

"Had?" You asked curiously.

"Yeah, he left." Your smile dropped and Momo laughed at your sudden change of expression. "Not in that way, sweetheart. Let's just say he... did something."

"You seem really sad." Momo shrugged her shoulders. "May I ask what have he done?"

She rolled her eyes at the thought of it. "It's just that one day him and Sana argued something at work, and since then, Sana hates him. And now she wants to ruin his career."

"Career? It's someone famous then?"

"Maybe...."

You giggled as she smiled. "How come you're not with them?"

"Them" being the groups of rich people gathering all around the room, talking and laughing out loud. She followed your gaze and side-eyed them. "Not my thing. Believe me, behind all of those tailored suits and perfect dress is hiding an arrogant, selfish, and horrible person."

"Are you aiming at someone?"

Momo sighed and called a waiter with her hand. "Let's just order some drink, I'm thirsty."

────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────────────

Momo was a cool person. She was really easy to talk to.

".... And do you know what she replied to me? 'my daughter is prettier than you' even though she looks like a failed experience!" You almost chocked on your drink as you laughed at Momo's story. When you calmed yourself down, you brushed the few tears that were starting to appear on the corners of your eye.

"My god you're so funny! I wonder why Sana has never presented you to me."

Momo took a sip of her drink. "Yeah, I'm wondering too."

"Speaking of her, do you know where she is?"

She turned around to looked at the empty table that you and Sana previously occupied, and switched her gaze to you. "No idea. It has already been thirty minutes since she went away."

You felt a feeling of deception at the thought that Sana left you. "But, let's see the good side! Without this we wouldn't have met!" You smiled at her enthusiasm and nodded.

"Yeah sure!"

The red liquid moved in your glass as you had fun making it spin around in circles. Momo watched you play with your drink, chin on her palm, before her eyes drifted on the way you were staring at your wine.

"Can I ask you something?" You said.

"Of course, what is it ?"

Momo saw that you were a bit hesitant about what you wanted to say, and to rassure you she put her hand on yours who was holding the glass. You offered her a smile and got back up straight.

"The guy that you told me about earlier....the one that Sana hates..."

"Yes ?"

"What is his name?"

Hearing what you said she just laughed. "You don't have to be so worried, it's not a secret or something."

"I just thought that it was kind of a personal question..."

Momo shook her head while a smile was still placed on her face. "No No, don't worry it isn't. I think you know him, he's kind of famous. It's-"

"Do I interrupt you?!"

You both flinched as you heard a voice raised behind you. Turning around you met Sana's piercing gaze looking at Momo like she was about to stab her to death.

The woman in front of you quickly replaced her surprised expression with a smirk."Well, considering the fact that you left her as soon as you got here and that if I wasn't there she would be left alone, then yes, you're kind of disturbing us."

Sana rolled her eyes at Momo since she didn't have anything to say because it was clearly her fault. "I had to deal with somet-"

The high pitched sound of a glass resonated in the closed restaurant. A woman in her fiftee's was walking on the small stairs that leaded to the stage who was placed to make sure that everyone could see. Her hair were grey and cut short. The way she walked, while keeping her posture perfectly straight, showed the years of experience she obviously had.

The aged woman headed to the microphone and coughed to catch everyone's attention.

"Welcome everyone, and thank you for taking the time to get here and for the wait. Tonight, I want to dedicate this bal to my grand-daughter, Harin, who has finally graduated with honor of the jury. To celebrate this wonderful event, she is going to play us a piece o-"

You couldn't hear the end of the sentence because Sana took your wrist and made you stand up. She approached you to her so she could whisper in your ear. "Let's get out of here."

Your question couldn't leave your throat as Sana dragged you through the suits and gold dresses to arrive in front of the main door. Momo was watching the scene from afar. A sighed left her throat, and she brought her attention back to the start of Pour Elise Harin was playing.

Momo ruined her plan, it's okay, Sana had other ways to catch it up.

The way Sana ordered you to get in the back of the car made you surprised... and changed your thoughts. The alcohol you let sliding down your throat was starting to get effects on you. It was just a small glass of wine...

Sana got in the front and started up. Your eyes observed the way her hand was moving the gear lever. From her slim shoulder, down her naked arm, to her fingers. Your breath hitched and your thighs rubbed together to sooth the heat that went back to your cheeks.

You raised your eyes and met Sana's, looking at you through the mirror. You immediately lowered your gaze and instead observe the landscape who was moving in front of your eyes. It was peaceful.

Almost all of the street lamps were lighted, expect for some of them who were flashing slightly. An orange and yellow light gradually covered the houses as the sun was setting. The wind coming thought the windows brushed a few hair falling away from you face, and caressed your cheek in such a gentle manner.

You left your dream when Sana pulled the car over and got out of it. The car door suddenly opened and Sana stood there, waiting for you to get out as well. Standing on your feet, she closed it and entered the building that leaded to her apartment.

Where she lived was... different from your place. Really different.

The living room was a large room where, at its center, was a black sofa, giving it a chic vibe. The floor was decorated by a long carpet placed in front of the sofa, and a small wooded table separated the TV from where you sat. You didn't notice Sana left, not until she came back with two glasses in one hand, and a bottle of red wine in the other.

"Take a sit."

She gestured you the sofa for you to sit on. You did as she said, before she took a place next to you.

You watched her purred some wine in the glasses, and handed you one, which you accepted without complaining.

"So," She took a sip of her drink and looked at you intently, her cheek resting on the back of her hand. "what did Momo and you talked about?"

You were a bit nervous being under her gaze, but you obviously complied.

"She told me some funny stories and how you guys met-"

"She must have told you about Bang chan then."

Bang chan? You knew that name from somewhere... Joshua told you about him.

"He is the one your argued with?"

She hummed. "You know him?"

"No. But I have a friend who has already talked to him, a few times."

You immediately saw Sana's sudden change of behavior. Her eyes opened as if she had discovered something, and she straightened herself. "Really?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Did that friend told you anything about him?"

"W-why?"

"You know, everyone think that I'm the one who's a bitch in this story, which really pisses me off. He's not what everyone thinks he is. But clearly nobody believes me. I need something, or rather someone to proof them wrong."

"Oh." You nodded. "Well, he told me that, he did do some... Bad things."

"Which are?"

"He...cheated on his heum.. Girlfriend."

You think you never saw such a smile on Sana's face before. Her eyes were glowing in the faint bright of the opened kitchen's lights.

"I knew he was hiding something... Such an asshole. What else?"

You would certainly have respond, if it wasn't for her to move closer to you, way too close. You mind shut down and you were using all your streight to not gulp and intensify the blush already appearing on your cheeks. "H-huh?"

"What else did he tell you?"

"oh heum...I d-don't remember what else h-he... said..."

At first, Sana wondered why you were suddenly stuttering so much. Then, she could almost feel the heat in your face, giving it a red color. She watched you nervously drink the wine, as well as the little bump appearing on your throat each time you swallowed.

God, she's cute.

Without knowing it you finished almost all of your wine. You looked down at your hands and played with your fingers, while still holding the glass.

"I-it's getting late, I think I should probably go h-"

Your words got cut off when Sana grabbed your jaw and turned your head towards her. She was way, way closer than before.

"You can't remember, or is something distracting you?"

"W-what?"

"You heard me."

Yes, something was definitely destracting you.

The way her eyes were staring at yours, so deep, like she is digging holes into your soul. Her hand gripping your jaw and making impossible for you to move your head away from her intense gaze. You hissed as her nails sank in your skin. Suddenly, she let go of your jaw, without waiting for further answer.

"You know," She started, taking a sip of her drink and putting her glass on the wooded table. "I've always thought you were one of a million girls, who's only goal in life is to reach your pathetic dreams."

Her words slided in you like poison. You lowered your head as you felt dumb thinking that her being mean to you was over. Maybe Joshua was right, maybe she is a bitch.

"I hated you."

"Why do y-"

She raised her hand to stop you from talking and let her finish. "Right now, I really want to hate you... But look at you..."

She moved her hand towards your face, you flinched thinking she was going to grab your jaw again but instead, she gently caressed your blushed cheek.

"...the way you blush under me is so cute..."

She lowered her hand, and her thumb made contact with your lips. She kingly caresser your bottom lip, and pulled it from time to time.

"...and your lips... God, so inviting. I never saw you this close before. You're such a cutie."

The redness already present on your face intensified, especially when she unexpectedly pressed a kiss on your lips. Her warm breath crashed on your mouth. You felt her other hand sliding into your hair, and you let out a yelp when she pressed the back of your head for you lips to crash into hers. Her kiss was hungry, swallowing each whines you let out and devouring your mouth.

Her fingers caressed the back of your exposed thigh, and went back up slowly, going under your dress. Her hand almost touching your ass was enough for you to realise what was going on, and sit up straight.

"I-I should really go."

You grabbed your purse that you left on the table and made your way towards the front door. Yes, Sana's lips felt heavenly kissing you, but you didn't want to give yourself to someone who openly admitted to never gave a damn about you.

"I thought you liked me."

Your hand stopped from turning the handle of the door. You heard the sound of the sofa shifting, indicating that she was standing up.

"You still do, don't you ? I know I haven't been very kind, let me make it up to you."

The footsteps were getting closer, until you felt arms embracing your waist. Her fingers brushed the straids of hair falling on your neck to the other side, before she drop a gentle kiss there. She slowly turned you around without you protesting.

"What would you want to do that? You said you hate me..."

She hummed and moved a straight of hair behind your ear. "Me hating you doesn't change the fact that you're very cute right now."

Her hands grabbed the straid of your purse and throw it somewhere on the floor. You haven't even time to complain that her lips found yours again, pushing you on the door.

You had a hard time following her. She kissed you desperately, tasting your mouth, like the dream of doing that was running in her mind for years, and she could finally grant it. She took your waist by the arm, pressing you against her, and moved both of you on the couch.

She was the first one to sit on the black leather. Her hands patted her laps, inciting you to climb on her.

Your thighs were straddling her waist. Your neck was covered with her lips, everywhere, filling the room with the sound of her kisses and sighs that left her lips each time you would grip on her hair, pushing her even more against you as if you weren't close enough.

Her hands moved to your back. Your dress was more than annoying her for keeping her away from really feeling you. Just as her fingers almost reached the zipper, suddenly, she stopped and pushed you off of her. "No." You heard her whisper.

She stood up and took your hand in hers. "Come here sweetheart."

You had no idea where she was dragging you. The only thing you knew is that the rest of her apartment was as she looks, luxurious and gracious. Your little contemplation was quickly interrupted when she pushed you in a room.

You felt something under your feets and, looking down, you met a giant white carpet that probably cost hundreds of dollars.

You turned around, and you were mismerised.

Not only there was an enormous, comfy-look bed in the middle of the bedroom, but also a large window instead of a wall giving a beautiful view of the city.

Darkness had almost fallen on the tall buildings, only stopped by the city's lights, offering a real spectacle. As hypnotizing as all of this was, you wandered if people could see both of you through the window, and it kind of made you feel nervous.

Sana interrupted you again as she placed her hands on your waist and made you sit on her bed. "They can't see us, don't worry." She informed you, seeing you gazing the window.

The sheets of the bed were as soft as Sana's hands carefully getting you out of your dress. She slided it down your thigh, and removed it completely, throwing it in a chair near, what you assumed to be, her closet.

She then parted from you, and walked towards a tall mirror on the closet door.

"S-sana why did..."

Your throat felt dry as you hesitated to finish your question, scared that she might get annoyed and stop everything. However, she turned towards you and stared, waiting for you to continue.

"Why did we change rooms?"

Her laugh filled the bedroom but you were too focused on the sight of her unzipping her dress to actually notice it.

"I can't fuck you properly on the couch, and besides, it's better to have sex on a bed, no?"

Her boldness created a lump in your throat. You quickly gulped it and pushed yourself closer to the center of the bed, still seating. You were to turned on by the simple thought of Sana to be shy about being almost naked in front of her, for the first time. Sana approached you with a smile (more like a smirk) on her face. Seeing you staring at her body and blushing so much only added to her ego.

She crawled on the bed to you, hovering over you. Her knees on each side of your hips, hair falling and softly caressing your face. Her mouth was just inches from yours, you felt her hot breath on your lips, but no, she didn't lean in yet. She wanted to intensify the contrast of getting to touch you however she wants by depriving herself from actually touching you.

Your fingertips tickled as you lightly gripped the sheets, so impatient for her to have her way with you. You two stayed like this, not wanting to succomb to lust yet, just breathing each other's air and staring at each other's eyes (or more Sana staring at your breast.) The atmosphere became heavier by the seconds. Redness came staining your cheeks as Sana devoured your body with her eyes, absolutely no ashamed of the action. When her gaze met your eyes again, she noticed the blush on your face.

"Sa-"

"Fuck, you're so cute."

And finally, she gave in. Her mouth captured your lips in a broken spell. Desire for more was now replacing the lust of her, of everything.

She kissed you with a new found force, pushing your head even more in the mattress as her lips tasted your mouth in every way. Your hands released the sheets and sneaked in her hair, gripping it as if you needed something to hold onto. You felt her tongue made her way into your mouth, tasting every corner of it as if she's having the meal of her life.

Her hand gripped your left thigh and wrapped around her waist. The new position you were in made your clothed core graze deliciously against her stomach. The friction alone made your head spin and a whine escaped your lips. As if it had a life of its own, your core grinned against Sana's tummy, desperate for more.

Feeling this Sana let go of your mouth and chuckled against your lips. "Patience baby," She grope your thigh to stop it from moving. "I promise I'll give you what you want."

She left a peck on your bruised lips. You panted, still recovering from the kiss, and tried to steady your breath, but it wasn't an easy task with Sana now kissing your neck. Your throat let out a sinful small whimper when she sucked on your skin to leave a deep red mark, that will soon turn into purple. She hummed at the sound and you felt her smiling against you. The room was now filled with the sound of her wet kisses, pants against your neck and the small whimpers she casually let out when you would pulled on her hair at her sucking your weak spot, and it drove you absolutely crazy.

You were too focused on the feeling of her lips on your neck to notice her right hand traveling up your back innocently and untieing your bra. The cold air hit your now bare breast as she threw the piece of fabric on the floor, not bothering where it landed.

She sit up straight to take an overall look at you and, god, what a sight.

You bruised, half-parted mouth let out heavy breaths as if she stole the air from your lungs. Your cheeks were covered in a pink tint softly glowing in the shine of the moon who slowly appeared in the sky, and the light of the alight bed lamp. Purple and teeth marks were decorating your neck and descending down your shoulder..

And your breasts.

Sana bit her lip as she stared at your nipples, looking so inviting. Your breath got stuck in your throat as her thumb flicked the bun, feeling it hardened on her finger. She lowered her head slowly, loving seeing your breath hitched at the excitation, and took your right tit in her mouth, slowly sucking it.

Your hands pushed her head deeper into you as your back arched to bring your breast closer to her mouth. You were going feral. A loud moan escaped your body as she pinched your left nipple with her thumb and index.

"Please !"

You didn't even know what you were pleading for, one thing was for sure, you were so turned on it almost hurt.

Yes, you were going feral,

but she was going crazy.

The way you whimpered at the smallest touch due to how sensitive you were incited her to suck harder, making you squirm and whine under her. Your tit felt so delicious in her mouth. And your breasts were so pretty, nipples hard and red.

Sana released your tit from her mouth with a last lick. A shiver escalated your spine as the cold air of the night brushed your saliva-covered nipple. While you found yourself panting and releasing small sighs, Sana's face was drawing itself in an expression of greed and lust. She pressed open-mouthed on your neck, moving up your ear.

"Your panties." Her command came out as a whisper. You obeyed.

The cloth slided down your legs and was thrown somewhere far from the bed, since you were both so sure it won't be needed for a long time. Sana sit back and used her hands to open your legs slowly. You noticed how she was biting her lip as she examined your lips.

You turned your head to the side as the feeling of her observing you while being so vulnerable was making you shy. You let out a low whine when you felt her fingers parting your lips. Your clit was throbbing like crazy, and it did not help at all when she used her thumb to softly brush against it.

The needing to close your legs both from embarrassment and to ease the pulsing was getting heavier. But you were quickly stopped by the woman above you.

"Close your legs and I swear I'll leave you like this, dripping like a whore."

You immediately put your legs in their original position

One of her hand hold your lips, opening you to her, and the other circled your clit slowly, before pinching it with her thumb and index. You yelped at the pain.

You truly didn't know why she was being so curious about what's happening down there.

Either she never seen a girl's pussy (which is probably not that because she played with your cunt so skillfully, knowing exactly what is going to make you whine), or she was just having fun torturing you.

Considering her personality and the way she talks to you, the second one was the most probable.

You heard her giggle as each brushed on your sensitive, buddle of nerve made your hole clench around nothing, and more pre-cum was coming out of it.

"God, you're drenched."

"S-sana...-just do it already!"

Sana quivered an eyebrow at your pleading. "Do what sweetheart?" She pressed her thumb against your clit and you cried out.

"J-just... fuck me-please Sana please please!"

You buckled your hips on her hand as an added silence plea. Sana hummed, liking the way you begged her and moved her hand down your entrance, before sinking her major finger in until she was knuckle deep inside of you. You cried out at the feeling of being filled by something. It's not like you never had sex at all, it's just that with all the school works, and your job you haven't really been able to get with someone or even hook up.

Your walls tightened around Sana's finger, not wanting to let her go. But she managed to get out. You whined loudly from the emptiness, until she pushed in again, somehow going deeper than before.

"F-fuck Sana I-I..."

A moan was ripped out of your throat when without warning you she let a second finger in. Withdrawing them, she quickly entered you. You head fall back against the pillow as her movements fastened, going in and out at a quick pace.

"Sa- hggh.... Sana!"

You hold the sheets in a tight grip. The room echoed with the sound of your heavy breaths cutted of by loud whimpers, such as the wet squelching of your pussy each time Sana pushed her fingers inside.

Speaking of her, well, she was just having her fun.

Seeing your mouth parted, letting out such dirty sounds, and your eyes closed to succomb even more to the pleasure made her chuckled. She moved up your body and took advantage of the state your were in to leave even more hickeys on your neck. Instead of pushing her off, one of your hand let go of the sheet and tangled in her hair to press her head harder against your body while the other remained gripping the fabric. God, you couldn't get enough.

You felt your stomach tightened as the need for release increased seconds by seconds.

"Sana I-I'm close... m-more!"

Fuck, if you wanted to be ruined, Sana would gladly do it for you.

She retired her fingers until only the tip of them remained in you, before slamming them back, adding a third one. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your mouth hanged open. A serie of profanities and affirmation left your throat. Your walls were tightening around Sana's fingers. Each mistrations felt like it was taking air from your lungs, burning so deliciously, and you were struggling to find your breath. You clinged on the sheets as you gasped loudly when Sana's fingers brushed against your sponge spot.

You struggled to keep your legs opened as your thighs shaked violently. A wave of pleasure invaded your entire body and left you gasp for air. Sana's thrusts slowed down until you came down your high.

"T-thank you thank you." You breathed out.

Sana's fingers were covered in your arousal. When she got them out, you whined softly as more cum get out of your hole. The older woman looked at her fingers with an interested gaze and slowly wrapped her mouth around them.

You shifted on your position as you watched the porn-like scene happening above you. Sana sucked your arousal off of her knuckles, and put her lips on yours letting you taste yourself. "Don't you taste good hmm?" Sana asked as she parted from your mouth, a seductive tone in her voice. "I bet your taste even sweeter down there."

Your mind didn't even have time to comprehend anything when her head was already between your legs, face so close that you could feel her breath on your skin. She looked at you attentively as she pressed a chaste kiss on your clit. The overstimulation made your legs jolt.

"S-sana too soon..."

Your put your hand on her head and tried to push her off but it was no use. The orgasm she just gave you seemed to have strived all the strength from your body, and since she hasn't gave you time to recover you were still feeling a bit tired, breath shaky.

Seeing you so weak under her made her smirk, and she immediately processed to eating you out. Her tongue gave a longue lick to your cunt before she sucked harshly on your clit. You cried out and your hand immediately gripped her hair tightly. She licked your pussy relentlessly, often moaning at the taste and at your pleasured expression.

Yes, she was watching you. How she could she not?

Your face contorting from the overstimulation you were receiving, your mouth opened agape gasping for air and letting Sana's name rolled on your tongue so easily. "S-Sana Sana!"

She used her hands to spread your pussy's lips, before inserting her tongue inside your dripping hole. You were sure any control who was left in your body slipped away in seconds. Now both of your hands were gripping her head while you found yourself rutting against her face.

You felt vibrations against your pussy, indicating that she was talking between her feverish licks and sucks. You couldn't quite comprehend nor even hear what she says. Not when you were so close to another mind-blowing orgasm, and the only things you could concentrate on other than the pleasure she brought you were the way her nails dug into your thighs and the feeling in your stomach tightening.

"Sana-keep going I-I'm gonna-mghh cum s-so hard p-please!"

The girl between your legs quivered an eye brow at your pleading. "Hold it." She retired herself momentarily before diving back in your folds.

You whined. Your eyes watered at the thought of not cuming. Your were struggling to keep yourself from letting go. The sensations were just to much. The way she dragged her wet and warm tongue in between your walls, the way she was sucking you clit as if it was the only thing keeping her alive, and her bites, God her bites, were throwing you on the edge. You were about to complain about her depriving you from such a blissful orgasm, when you suddenly felt nothing on your cunt anymore.

"H-huh?"

You opened your eyes slightly and lifted your head. Sana was on her knees just in front of you. The low side of her face is covered in your arousal. Her cheeks red from the lack of air she had, and her chest was raising up and down as she breathed heavily.

She didn't even bother to wipe your juice away. She grabbed you left thigh, pushing it forward until it was against your stomach, and spread your other leg as open as it could be humanly possible. The new position was showing your pussy in fall display, you hole clenched and unclenched under Sana's avid gaze and the strong pulsatings of your clit resonated in your head. She used her hands to keep both of your legs in their position, as she indulged in your waterfall.

You didn't know you manage to hold yourself now. Sana slided her tongue in you as deep as it could be possible, and was able to licked all the spots that made you tremble.

"L-let me cum please please please-"

Her grip on your leg tightened as she enforcer her nails in your skin. "Mmh, cum all over my mouth sweetheart."

Her permission almost felt like an order, and so, you let go. You grabbed her hair harshly as she hissed. The screams mixed with cries that came out of your mouth were filling the room. You felt like you were no longer on earth as your vision blurred.

Sana drank every bit of your sweet, sweet juice. She withdrew her head when your thighs stopped shaking, and your breathing stabled itself.

She made her way just above your face. Your eyes were still closed, your sweat made your skin shiny and a few hair stick to your forehead. Her fingers cleaned her cum-covered face and she pressed her lips onto yours. She kissed your lips for a few seconds before stopping when she felt you not responding to her kiss.

Wait, did you seriously passed out after only two orgasms?

Sana sighed seeing your sleeping face and her mouth curved into a gentle smile. She was about to clean your up, until she felt her throbbing, remembering that she still haven't took care of it.

It was quickly about to change though.

Her back was pressed against the head board as her hand sneaked in her panties. She was sitting next to you, your cute face more than enough to turn her on even more. She rubbed her clit and bit her lip to prevent anything coming out. She didn't want to wake you up after all, not that she really cared about you sleeping but she had to take care of her pussy now.

However, a ring interrupted her attempt to be silent. Sana answered her phone quickly to stop the annoying sound.

"Who is it?"

"Well, good evening to you too."

Sana sighed annoyingly as Momo's voice was heard on the other line. "What do you want?"

"Just wanted to know if you got anything out of Y/n. You know I'm curious."

The brune girl rolled her eyes. "It's usually none of your business, but yes. I did. And I also fucked her."

"Wait, wha-"

Sana interrupted her with a low whimper, followed by a soft sigh as she rubbed faster.

"Am I dreaming or are you touching yourself while I'm calling you?!"

Sana chuckled and rested her head on the headboard. "Yes, and I would really appreciate if you end the call because gosh, your voice's such a turn off."

Momo scoffed and pressed the red button. Sana removed her panties and entered a single finger in herself. Looking at you, she remembered what Momo said.

"Yeah but she's kind of pretty though."

Sana still thinks otherwise, you weren't pretty.

Yeah,

you were just cute.

#Smut #Twice #Sana #Momo #Joshua #Twice fic #Fanfiction #Twice x fem reader #Nayeon #Bang chan #Twice imagines #Twice smut #Sana smut

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dawn-moths · 8 months

Text

"Birthday Wishes"

Undertaker x Female Reader

word count: 3,700+

(@fanfictionsworld requested: spending your birthday with Undertaker from my Cause to Start a Vendetta AU.)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! fluff with some smut at the end, oral sex (reader receiving), use of the word “Daddy”, reader is called “princess, baby, sweetheart”.

*ao3 mirror*

***

You’d been counting down the days for weeks now, your birthday circled on the calendar with a big pink glitter gel pen heart several times over, every day crossed off that crawled closer to the day— your day— making you more and more excited.

Because, as you’d quickly grown accustomed to being spoiled by Undertaker— special occasion or otherwise— your birthday was no exception to being showered with all the love and luxury he had at his disposal.

“Morning, princess…” he cooed, gently smoothing down some of your sleep-tousled hair with a big, cool palm, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you blinked open beary eyes, wrapped in his arms and the many layers of blankets that twisted and tangled about your bodies sprawled across the bed.

“Morning, Daddy…” you replied, voice soft and delicate as the lingering dredges of slumber clung to your tone, an angelic little grin curving up on your sweet lips as you nuzzled closer into Undertaker’s chest, seeking out his elusive warmth.

For a moment, nearly forgetting what today was as you drifted in and out of consciousness, your figure filling with the heavy weight of sleep once more, your eyelids fluttered closed and your breathing began to turn slow and shallow. Undertaker rubbed a hand up and down your back, stirring you back to the waking world and smiling to himself as you let out a big yawn, nose scrunching adorably with the expression.

“If you want to go back to sleep,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your nose and causing a fragile giggle to bubble up in your chest, “I won’t stop you. But that would certainly be a shame when we have so many fun things on our to-do list today.”

That was enough to entice you, your mind suddenly much more alert than before, and you snaked your arms up to gently rest over his shoulders. “Just a few more minutes…” you said, pressing yourself even closer to him, wishing you could bask in the safety of his touch forever. “Then I promise I’ll get up.”

A smooth, sonorous chuckle vibrated through his bones, the sound warming you from the inside out like hot milk and honey. “Alright, sweetheart,” he said, allowing himself to melt back to a more relaxed state as well. “Just a few more minutes…”

As the sun crept further through the cracks of the curtains, bright beams painting the ornate master bedroom with thin strokes of gold, stirring up the wispy clouds of dust motes swirling through the air, Undertaker coaxed you into finally rising, draping one of his big, fluffy black robes over your shoulders when you became burdened with a chill, the mansion’s usual temperature kept low upon his preference.

Once your feet were dressed in your favorite pair of fluffy socks and even fluffier slippers, you took Undertaker’s hand and let him guide you down the wide halls to the curving staircase, heading towards the kitchen where you could already smell your special birthday breakfast.

The long dining table was decorated to the nines with all kinds of balloon bouquets and bundles of black and white roses overflowing from crystal vases. Spelled out in gold glitter confetti at one end of the display was HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PRINCESS punctuated by a big heart. At the other was a full selection of all your breakfast favorites— souffle pancakes piled high with bananas and melty chocolate chips, strawberry french toasts drizzled with sticky maple syrup and sprinkled with a frosty snowfall of powdered sugar, fluffy scrambled eggs and yogurt parfaits and fruit arranged by color.

You sucked in a gasp of delight, hands clasped before your chest as you eagerly surveyed the scene, looking up at your Daddy like he’d outdone himself.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he said, extending a hand towards the chair at the head of the table— his usual chair, the master’s chair, the dining room’s throne— and pulling it out for you to sit in, taking the seat adjacent to it to join you in the morning’s sugary culinary experience.

Over the meal— you choosing a bit of everything to pile onto your plate in an orderly array, because why should you have to choose just one when today you could have whatever your little heart desired— you and Undertaker began to discuss the day’s itinerary.

There was a packed schedule planned indeed— a shopping outing at all your most beloved designer stores, afternoon tea at the Ritz, exploring some of the artsy nooks and crannies of the city and dropping into your favorite bookstore all before hopping on the Aurora Society’s private jet and taking the hour and a half flight to your favorite five star restaurant in Paris, sure to end the evening by enjoying your usual penthouse suit of the expensive hotel that gave the best view among any of the establishments around.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing,” Undertaker slyly prompted just as you were about to head upstairs to get changed and ready for the events ahead, thoughts already spinning trying to decide what you wanted to wear. You stopped and considered him with an adorably cute expression for a moment until he pulled a big gift bag from under the table where he’d hidden it from you, the glossy black packaging stuffed with glittering silver tissue paper and two perfect satin ribbons serving as the handles. “You know,” he shrugged as he slid it towards you on the table, drinking in your awe, never growing tired of how easily you seemed to be innocently surprised sometimes, “just in case you felt like going out in something new.”

Carefully, as if the wrapping itself was just as valuable as the gift, you plucked the sparkling tissue paper away to uncover the pristinely wrapped box beneath, a marbling of glossy and matte black swirling over the decorative paper like ink dropped into water. The moment the first half of your favorite clothing brand’s name was visible to you, you shot him a glance, as if to say, “you shouldn’t have” despite believing down to your very core that you deserved every expensive, extravagant thing that Undertaker placed in your cute little lap.

Once you lifted the garment from where it had been perfectly folded within its box, holding it up to your body as if to sample how it would look before trying it on, you heard Undertaker sigh, a dreamy, lilting hum tailing off the end of it. “Exquisite…” he remarked, and you now held the dress out from your body, studying the intricate craftsmanship that had been hand stitched into the garment as you smiled to yourself, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It really is.”

But then Undertaker was by your side, having moved soundlessly, his even stride gliding across the short distance to meet you. “I wasn’t talking about the dress,” he murmured, big hands settling on your hips. “Now, why don’t you head upstairs and start getting ready.”

You turned your face up to his, met his lips when he was close enough for a kiss, and muttered out a sweet little, “Thank you, Daddy,” before following his instruction and heading for the staircase.

He watched you go, saw the skip in your step as you ventured off, only returning to clearing the table once you disappeared down the long second story hallway and out of his view. He was going to look forward to taking that dress off of you later, unwrapping you like his own special gift by the time night draped itself over the sky.

***

The afternoon had been like a dream, you and your lover floating from one location to the next to try on extravagant clothing and sample imported teas, the two of you practically waltzing through the downtown streets where you longed to see what new installments the local London artists put up around the city before you’d lost track of time perusing your favorite bookstore, a good two hours going by without you even noticing as you strategically searched for the next story to get yourself hooked on.

But as the sky began to fade from blue to gold, it signaled that dinner was soon approaching, which meant you two had a plane to catch if you wanted to arrive to your reservation on time.

The hostess greeted you two with a friendly smile, addressing you both by name, the entire restaurant staff made familiar with London’s most notorious boss and the beautiful girl who was always on his arm, Undertaker making short, lighthearted conversation with the manager in French while they crossed paths on the walk to your usual table, the man chuckling at something your Daddy had said, forever able to charm anyone if he set his mind to it, it seemed.

As you both enjoyed the delicacies of the six course meal, you continued to talk and laugh, never running out of topics to converse about, though tonight you were most excited to tell him all about the book you’d recently finished and your expectations for the new one you’d chosen on your earlier excursion, having heard nothing but praise for the acclaimed tale.

Once the horizon had lost its lilac blush and sunk deep into the velvet navy of nightfall though, you knew you were just about to enter into yet another phase of your luxurious birthday festivities.

***

You could smell the roses from down the hall before the doors to your hotel suite in Paris even opened. The entirety of the three connected rooms were decked from floor to ceiling in at least one hundred thousand dollars worth of florals, vibrant reds and sultry blacks, flawless creams and even a dash of lovely soft pinks.

You could’ve cried at how gorgeous it all was, blinking the mist from your eyes as you spun in slow circles about the place, taking it all in. Undertaker’s hands found your shoulders to steady you, stopping your awestruck turns to face the beautiful birthday cake on the hotel room’s center table, the special dessert shaped like a heart and iced in a rainbow of your favorite colors, several candles placed strategically on the top and already lit, small flames glowing and beckoning you over to make a wish.

But what could you possibly wish for when you already had everything you’d ever want or need— a gorgeous man who loved you, showering you in every stunning thing life had to offer, as simple as the snap of his fingers or a wave of his hand— besides to continue living this blessed life that had found its way to you, through trial and tribulation?

Taking a few steps forward towards the cake, you choked out through a shaky breath, “Oh my god…” unable to hold back your tears any longer, a few sparkling drops running down your cheeks, glittering like gold as they caught the amber of the flickering firelight. You looked back at Undertaker, who was not far behind you, and wondered if you’d ever be able to convey how much this all meant to you. It almost seemed unfair. He’d always be able to do more for you than you would for him, though he never seemed to mind.

For him, just having you— his sweet, precious baby girl to dote on and adore as much as he pleased— was far more than enough. All you had to do was exist. All you had to do was be his.

“Well, go on,” he lightly urged, a calm smile playing at the corner of his lips as he gestured towards the center table. “The candles won’t blow themselves out, now will they?”

You smiled, big and bright, and let out a sound that could only be described as pure joy. Undertaker was addicted to that sound, the way it rang out like the delicate jingle of bells, the way it warmed him like the sun’s rays after so much rain. It made everything he’d ever done, good, bad, or somewhere in between, all worth it. Just to see you smile at him like that, just to hear you laugh. Just to know it was him who’d been the orchestrator of such emotions.

And as you let out a strong gust of a breath, turning each melting birthday candle from flame to smoke, you realized you did have one wish you wanted to make afterall.

Let things be like this forever, you thought to yourself, like a silent prayer. Let us stay as in love for the rest of our lives as we are right now, in this moment.

Undertaker cut the cake, a piece for you and a piece for him, and then the two of you sat by the counter outlooking the spotless floor to ceiling windows that gave way to the sprawling view of the City of Light, the night sky clear and sparkling with little bursts of silver stars overhead.

You talked and joked and laughed while you both enjoyed your dessert, your chair pressed right next to his, close enough that you could lean your head over to rest against the side of his shoulder while his arm slung across your back, hugging you closer to him, his most cherished treasure.

“You know…” you began, gazing dreamily out the window at the romantic scene the city offered. Then, casting him a glance from where you were nestled into his side, you said, “I think this might really be the best birthday ever.”

Something in his eyes softened a shade then, and in response Undertaker lightly took your chin between his lithe fingers, tilting your mouth just ever so slightly upwards so he could lean down to meet it. You hadn’t expected the kiss, languid and savoring at first as you parted your lips to let him in, both of you tasting like your favorite flavor of cake, soon turning more hungry, having you straddling his lap and blinded by the blissful haze that was slowly filling you from the inside out.

When he finally broke away, leaned back just far enough to look you in the eyes, gently wiping the cool pad of his thumb across the plush of your bottom lip, glossy from your mingled saliva, a weak attempt to clean you up a bit, he said, “I guess that means I’ll have to go above and beyond next year,” and you laughed and nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you felt yourself relax over him.

“No, but really…” you murmured. “Thank you, Daddy. For everything. Always.”

All you got as a warning for what happened next was a low, lilting chuckle humming in his chest before he was hoisting you up, big hands splayed against the backs of your thighs as he began to carry you elsewhere in the suite.

“Where are we going?” you playfully asked, though you already had a pretty good idea.

“There’s still a few hours until midnight,” he remarked, a new kind of vigor in his voice and stride. He set you down on the edge of the king-sized bed, beginning to shrug off his jacket and tug his belt buckle free of its loops as he added, “Which means your birthday’s not over yet, princess.”

The smirk that spread across his face then made that fluttering creature resting in your lower belly roll over inside of you, beginning to wake, soon asking to be satisfied like a dog scratching at the door begging for treats, relentless until it was given its desired reward. It wasn’t long before Undertaker was hooking his grip under your thighs again, pulling you further down the bed where he then knelt at the foot of it.

You gave him an uncertain and slightly suspicious look as he flicked his emerald gaze up to meet yours. Usually, he liked to undress you, strip you down piece by piece before ridding himself of his own clothing, admiring every inch of your bare body like it was the most masterful work of art. Then he’d pin you down, his prized butterfly, and get to work at soaking both your bodies with pleasure before wringing them dry, squeezing you for every last lustful drop he could.

But tonight— on your night— he figured he’d do things a little differently. Give you one last birthday surprise before the clock struck twelve.

“Just relax, sweetheart…” he cooed, carefully bunching your new dress up around your waist, exposing the expensive lace clinging to the most delicate parts of you and drinking in the sight like it rivaled even that of the one just beyond the windows. “Let Daddy make you feel good…”

Undertaker pressed gentle kisses to the soft raise of your lower belly, and you felt your tight little hole futter and your sensitive bud pulse as he slowly removed your panties, your already damp core causing them to cling to you a moment before the cool air sighed against your damp slit.

Undertaker ran a long finger through your dewy folds, making your next breath catch as he slipped it inside of you to gather more of your slick before rubbing it against your puffy clit, already swollen with arousal, pulling one of those adorable whines from your throat as you lay one arm over your eyes, the other sprawled out across the bed, little fingers twisting into the sheets, trying to grab hold of anything while you still had the chance.

“That’s it, baby…” he praised, helping to spread you wider for him, a leg thrown over one of his broad shoulders as he continued to tease you. His next words sent a puff of his warm breath against your cunt, and you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation, exhaling a shuddering sigh. He whispered, “I’m gonna take good care of you, baby,” and when he licked a flat-tongued stripe up your pussy, you let out a soft, broken whine, back already beginning to arch a little at the sinfully sweet feel of him.

Undertaker was skilled at a lot of things— running a business, making money, getting away with murder— but the thing you thought he was best at, above all else, was pleasuring you.

It was effortless, the way he knew exactly what to do that made you body bend to his command, melting your mind until all you knew was the press of his hips or the wet warmth of his mouth, the indents of his teeth, his fingerprints, all of it branded into you so no matter where you looked on your own body there would be a reminder of him, like a promise, a gift.

You were clenching the silky sheets in your trembling fist as he speared his tongue into you, his sharp nose nudging against your clit every time and forcing moan after delicious, high-pitched moan out of you like that was the only sound you’d ever known how to make. If he thought your laugh was syrupy sweet, then your moans were something else entirely, something far more addicting or satisfying than sticky, sickly sweet sugar. More like a drug to him, making him addicted in a way that, once he got a taste, he couldn’t stop. Not until you had nothing left to give, his pursuit at seeing just how far or how long he could make you go merciless time and time again.

“P-please—” you sobbed, the new veil of tears that had welled in your eyes causing your lashes to clump and spike together with every fluttering roll of your eyes back into your head. His pace was voracious, wanting to devour you down to your very core. You could barely get half a broken plea out before it was interrupted by a surrendering mewl or a soundless gasp, mouth hung open in ecstasy before he prepared to shatter you. “Please— I’m gonna—”

But before you could even speak the last word of your sentence, let alone remember it, Undertaker had you coming undone, unraveling you like a frayed thread on a silk scarf, pulling you apart until there was nothing left but a tangle of string he could then rearrange into any shape he pleased.

Your chest rose and fell with short, shallow, panting breaths, rigid form relaxing back into the mattress, body gone all pliable and boneless once the remaining tension melted away. Meanwhile, Undertaker pressed gentle kisses to the sensitive insides of your stained thighs, palms gently petting you as you drifted down from the high and back into the garden of Eden he’d planted, nurtured, and grown just for you.

Normally, he’d barely give you enough time to recover before commencing round two, but, as he seemed to be a little more patient with you on this most special of days, he allowed your heart to slow to a steady rhythm and your breathing to smooth out into even inhales and exhales before shifting over you, darting out his tongue to lick at his own lips to catch one last obscene taste of you before wiping away your glistening arousal from the bottom half of his pale face with the back of his hand.

As he stared down at you through half-lidded eyes, the vibrant green of them almost glowing through the dim dark of the bedroom, he said, as if only to himself, “Just look at you… So gorgeous… My beautiful girl…” as he helped free you the rest of the way from your pretty birthday dress, mindfully folding it and placing it on the nearest bedside drawer so it didn’t get ruined.

Because he did intend to ruin you.

He intended to ruin you in all the right ways.

As he shed his own clothing like a black-skinned snake, all those silvery scars wrapped around alabaster flesh now on full display, you reached out for him, wanting, craving, needing to feel the press of his body back on yours before the ebbing pleasure made you drift off to dreamland. Though, with Undertaker, reality could often feel like a dream, so perfect your conscious mind almost struggled to comprehend it was real at times.

But, as he began to lean back over you, your fingers interlocked as he pressed your hands down into the comforter on either side of your head, both your legs thrown over his shoulders to have you splayed wide and vulnerable for him, just the way he liked you, one thing was for certain. Undertaker had been ahead of himself when he’d said he’d have to find a way to outdo your birthday next year. After tonight, you had no idea how things could get any better than this.

***

(Hello and thank you so much to @fanfictionsworld for your request! I hope I did it justice and thank you for being so patient with me while you waited for it. I know you’ve been following me for quite some time and I always recognize you when I see you pop up in my notifs, so it was truly a pleasure getting to write for you <3

Also want to give a big thank you to everyone else for reading as well! I hope you enjoyed and I hope you have a wonderful day!)

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shirkeskitchen · 6 months

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Why Coordinating Elements Matter in Interior Design? - by Shirkes Platino Series

When it comes to crafting a visually stunning and functional interior space, every element counts. From colors and textures to furniture and lighting, the way these components come together can make or break the overall aesthetic appeal and functionality of a room. At Shirkes Platino Series, we understand the significance of coordinating these elements seamlessly to create harmonious and inviting environments. Let's delve into why coordinating elements matter in interior design and how you can achieve stunning results in your own space.

Creating Harmony with Colors

One of the foundational aspects of interior design is the use of color. A well-chosen color palette can set the tone for the entire space and evoke specific emotions. When coordinating colors, it's essential to consider the balance between warm and cool tones, as well as the strategic use of accent colors to add visual interest and depth.

Texture and Materials

Texture plays a crucial role in adding dimension and tactile appeal to a room. By incorporating a variety of textures, such as smooth fabrics, rough wood, and glossy finishes, you can create visual contrast and richness. Similarly, mixing different materials, such as metal, glass, and natural fibers, adds complexity and sophistication to the design.

Furniture and Layout

The selection and arrangement of furniture are key components of interior design coordination. Choosing pieces that complement each other in style and scale helps create a cohesive look. Additionally, thoughtful placement of furniture ensures optimal flow and functionality within the space.

Lighting Design

Lighting is a powerful tool for enhancing the ambiance and functionality of a room. By layering different types of lighting, such as ambient, task, and accent lighting, you can create depth and drama. Strategic placement of lights can also highlight focal points and architectural features, adding visual interest to the space.

Art and Accessories

Artwork and accessories provide the finishing touches to a well-coordinated interior design scheme. Selecting pieces that complement the overall aesthetic and color palette ties the room together. However, it's essential to strike a balance and avoid cluttering the space with too many decorations.

Emphasis on Proportion

Maintaining visual balance and proportion is crucial for creating a harmonious interior space. Avoiding overcrowding or sparse arrangements ensures that each element has room to breathe and shine. Paying attention to proportion also helps prevent visual fatigue and promotes a sense of calm and order.

Utilizing Patterns

Patterns add visual interest and personality to a room but must be used judiciously. When coordinating patterns, it's important to ensure they complement each other in scale and style. Mixing different patterns, such as stripes, florals, and geometrics, can create depth and dynamism in the design.

Consistency in Style

Sticking to a cohesive design style throughout the space ensures a unified and polished look. While it's possible to integrate diverse elements, such as vintage and modern pieces, maintaining consistency in style ties the room together and prevents it from feeling disjointed.

Functionality and Practicality

While aesthetics are important, practical considerations should not be overlooked. Design choices should meet the needs and lifestyle of the occupants, ensuring that the space is both beautiful and functional. Balancing aesthetics with functionality is key to creating spaces that are a joy to live in.

Budget-Friendly Coordination

Achieving a well-coordinated interior design doesn't have to break the bank. By making strategic investments in key pieces and focusing on high-impact updates, you can create stunning results on a budget. DIY projects, thrifted finds, and repurposed furniture are excellent ways to save money while still achieving a cohesive look.

Sustainability in Design

At Shirkes Platino Series, we are committed to sustainable design practices that minimize environmental impact. Choosing eco-friendly materials, such as reclaimed wood and low-VOC paints, and incorporating energy-efficient fixtures and appliances are just a few ways to integrate sustainability into your design concept. By prioritizing sustainability, you can create spaces that are not only beautiful but also environmentally responsible.

Psychological Impact of Coordinated Design

The way a space is designed can have a profound impact on our mood and well-being. Well-coordinated spaces that are harmonious and balanced promote a sense of tranquility and relaxation, while chaotic or poorly designed spaces can evoke stress and discomfort. By paying attention to the coordination of elements, you can create environments that nurture and uplift the human spirit.

Professional Tips for Effective Coordination

To achieve seamless coordination in your interior design projects, consider seeking advice from professionals. At Shirkes Platino Series, our team of experienced designers can provide valuable insights and guidance tailored to your specific needs and preferences. Whether you're tackling a full-scale renovation or a small-scale refresh, our experts can help you achieve stunning results that exceed your expectations.

Conclusion

In conclusion, coordinating elements is essential for creating visually stunning, functional, and harmonious interior spaces. By paying attention to colors, textures, furniture, lighting, and accessories, you can achieve a cohesive and polished look that reflects your personal style and enhances your quality of life. Whether you're designing a cozy bedroom retreat or a stylish living area, the principles of coordination apply across all types of spaces. With the right approach and attention to detail, you can transform any room into a beautiful and inviting oasis.

#Modern luxury kitchen #luxury modular kitchen #Modern luxury black kitchen #luxury white and gold kitchen #Modern luxury kitchen island

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vallification · 2 months

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rushes: chapter one

tw: verbal abuse

wc: 4.3k

Droplets of brownie batter are splattered atop the marble counter, half-dried, beside the neatly packaged box filled with an assortment of fresh, fragrant, and warm homemade desserts and pastries. A sink full of dishes is left in the wake of the impressive spread, and your kitchen is reminiscent of the aftermath of a cyclone. The mess glares at you, incredulous at the fact that you’d dirty such a luxurious space, but you want to deliver the fruits of your labor before they get cold. You have yet to meet your neighbor across the hall, and if you learned anything from your grandmother, a good first impression is rarely set by empty hands.

Or messy hair. A halo of frizz stares back at you in the reflection of your microwave. Quickly, you dip into the bathroom to tug your hair tie loose, smoothing down your flyaways and combing through your hair with your fingers.

“That’s… acceptable,” You mumble, dabbing your face with the remnants of setting powder left on your brush until you’re no longer shining and slathering on some lip gloss. Paint and what you assume is flour stains your worn t-shirt and shorts. You give yourself a once over in the mirror and find the rest of you to be acceptable, too. Balance.

Before you go, you check your phone for a text from your boyfriend, but no dice. It’s been radio silence since you moved in. You placate yourself with excuses for him, because he might be tired, or busy, or… something like that. Saying that things have been a breeze lately would be a blatant lie, though. To put it lightly, Toji was hot and cold. He was too busy to help you move in, but not too busy to stop by and fuck you before you left; he was fine with you leaving, but his mood soured every time you rambled excitedly about your new place; and like now, he would ignore you for days, but pick a fight if you dared to take more than 10 minutes to answer his texts.

The unholy lack of notifications stares back at you like a prophecy. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath in, filling every corner of your lungs before exhaling sharply. You pocket your phone and grab the box.

So far, all of your neighbors have either been pretentious financier DINKs or older couples drowning in their bottomless retirement funds. Before this unreal opportunity of an internship, you would have been lucky to even know about this part of town, much less be in the vicinity of this building. Lady Luck has kissed your sweet little head several times this year, so being lonely in the big city is a small price to pay for your newfound fully funded lifestyle. You shove your complaints in the “First World Problems” file cabinet of your mind, but part of you hopes that the neighbors across the hall are at least a little friendly.

Bracing yourself for another set of snobs, you take a deep breath and knock on the door. Lady Luck spits in your face and cackles.

Your jaw drops when the door swings open to reveal snow white, cerulean blue, golden tan, six feet and three inches of him. Long, muscular arms frame his smug face as large, strong hands brace his absurdly tall figure at the top of the door frame. A shiny white gold chain hangs around his neck, sitting handsomely against his tight black shirt. Your slack jaw slams shut when you see his infuriating smirk, complemented by his infuriating dimples.

Satoru Gojo is like a cold sore. He just keeps fucking coming back.

And even though he’s skimmed through your Instagram annually, he hasn’t seen you in person in almost four years. Your sparkly, girlish energy still decorates your face, but your features are a little more mature now… Not just your features either. Those blue eyes drag up and down your body, simultaneously checking you out, re-familiarizing himself with you, and trying his damndest to fluster you.

It only works a little bit.

Disgust paints your features, your lips curling as you squint at the human embodiment of an unchecked ego. But a hand splaying out over Gojo’s ribs prompts him to make room in the doorway for another figure. Next to Gojo stands a man you don’t know, almost as tall, just as broad, all olive skin and dark hair and eyes that seem to swallow you whole. There’s not enough room for two men as tall and broad as Gojo and whoever that is to be comfortable in the doorway, yet they make it work, shoulder to broad, thick, muscular shoulder. You fix your face into the sweet smile you wore previously.

“What’s that?” Gojo asks, nodding to the box tucked in your arms. Your sweet smile momentarily reverts back into a disgusted snarl as your eyes flick back to him.

“Not for you,” You quip. Stepping one pace to the side, you plant yourself directly in front of the stranger and fix your face once more. Gojo feigns offense with a gasp, and the other man’s eyebrows fly high on his forehead, lips pressed into a tight line as he poorly conceals his amusement. You shove the box forward.

“You can have some, though,” You muse, and your new neighbor takes the box with a grin. Sweetly holding your hands behind your back, you introduce yourself and explain that you live directly across the hall, you’re new to the city, and you’re a concept design student at the University of Tokyo. From his peripheral vision, Gojo watches his roommate look you up and down as you talk, and it isn’t lost on him when Geto’s eyes hang onto the most notable parts of you. Eyes, lips, chest, hips, chest, lips, eyes. Gojo stands quietly–for what you assume is the very first time in his life–his eyes flicking back and forth between the two of you. If you cared to pay him any mind, you’d catch the glint of… jealousy? Annoyance? Yeah, annoyance. If you cared to pay him any mind, you’d catch the glint of annoyance swimming in his ocean blue eyes.

“Suguru Geto. I’m working on my masters there, actually. Computer science,” Suguru, as you now know, explains, holding the box in one arm to gently shake your hand. The beige hoodie he’s wearing smells amazing. Ambery, peppery, heavy… almost sweet but not quite. His voice is the same, rich and smooth and warm. “And it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Suguru Geto’s eyes are violet. And intense. Your phone buzzes one, two, three times in your pocket. Toji.

“... Anyway.” Gojo breaks his silence and pockets his hands as he leans against the door frame. Your sweet smile remains even though your eyes tell a different story, annoyance clipping your friendly demeanor. In his usual style, Gojo holds your gaze of unabashed dismay with one of unshakable confidence.

“Glad to see you’re still painting. Is that creature you’ve got on your Instagram funding this?” Gojo snickers, and is rewarded with another eye roll.

“Is your daddy funding that?” You retort, tiptoeing and batting your eyelashes as you gesture past the two men crowding the doorway. Geto rubs over his face to wipe away the laughter that’s begging to tumble out of his mouth. “Or did that end when he bought you your degree?”

“Woah, is that… hostility? Are there some lingering feelings you’d like some closure for, sweetheart?”

“No time, babe. You’ve probably got an appointment for your biweekly penicillin shot.”

“You wanna call and ask your little boyfriend if he wants to come with me?”

By the time Gojo finishes that sentence, your phone is ringing in your pocket, and Gojo grins. Annoyance has metamorphosed into daggers in your eyes, glaring at the ever so smug bastard standing so coolly before you with your fists balled at your sides. Turning on your heel, you march across the wide hallway to your door, and before it slams shut behind you Geto calls out one more pleasantry.

“Knock for anything!”

—

Gojo forgets about the little white box full of desserts for an impressive eight hours. It definitely helped that the damn thing was hidden in Geto’s room, even then, the box hadn’t crossed his mind since your door slammed shut behind you. Instead, he was thinking about the swish of your hips, the way your stained shirt nearly fell past your tiny denim shorts, the way you totally checked him out before your feigned disgust set in. Sweets don’t have a perfect ass.

But the sweets were still important. Geto returns from his shower with the box in hand, immediately pulling Gojo from his quickly wandering thoughts.

“She said it’s not for you,” Geto reminds, smug and faux-snide as he chastises. Delicately, he tugs a loose end of the silky pink ribbon until the bow it's knotted in is freed. He tosses the ribbon to land awry on top of white hair, and in a huff Gojo snatches the silky pink length of ribbon off of his head. As if to taunt him, Geto oh-so-cautiously pries open the tabs that once kept the box closed, careful to keep the sweet contents obscured from Gojo’s eyes. “Ooh…” Gasp!

“Suguru, I wanna see— what’s in— the box!”

A flurry of hands lurch forward, push away, reach around, until Geto is using his legs to keep Gojo out of the box’s reach. “Oh, wow…”

“What is it? I wanna see!”

“Really, wow. That’s so cute. Is that—?”

“Suguru!”

“Aw, it’s pink! I think it’s strawberry…”

Another flurry of grappling arms, legs, and hands. Geto’s leaning off the side of the couch now, cackling around a fingerful of frosting. Pink sugar sprinkles litter the corner of his grinning mouth, and Gojo gasps in offense. “You must have really pissed her off, Satoru. I think this frosting is homemade. You’d love it.”

“That’s not fair!” Wriggling to climb the length of Geto’s body, Gojo’s hands almost reach the box before Geto rolls out from under him. The box is unscathed when he lands on the floor with a thud, and he sticks a leg out to keep the pouting Gojo away. They're both huffing from their struggle as Geto takes another smug swipe of frosting. So far defeated, Gojo plops himself back on the couch with crossed arms and watches Geto taunt him with your box of prohibited treats.

After a heavily surveilled mouthful of a homemade strawberry cupcake, topped with buttercream frosting and pink sugar sprinkles, Geto hums in amusement. “So what’d you do? Is she someone from college?”

“Nothing. No.” If Gojo pouts any more than he already is, his face might cramp. You used to make those cupcakes all the time, and over half were always devoured in the span of an afternoon by him alone. Not only that, but Gojo knows there’s more than just your strawberry cupcakes in that box. He can smell chocolate.

Gently setting the cupcake down in the box, Geto moves onto the next little dessert. He breaks a piece off of one of the softest chocolate chip cookies he’s ever had the privilege of eating and pops it into his mouth. Does he have the same sweet tooth as Gojo? Absolutely not, but it’s so fun to watch him throw a tantrum. Plus, it’s all really that good. “You had to have done something. These are amazing. I don’t even like chocolate like that.”

Gojo lets out a whine, dramatically wilting over the side of the couch like an unwatered flower, back curved along the arm rest as his head and arms hang. “She’s theatricizing. I want a cupcake.”

“So you did do something? Is she your ex-girlfriend, Satoru?”

He whines again, louder this time, hyperbolically drawn out and frustrated and ragged. Gojo slides along the armrest until he’s on the floor, flat on his back with his legs propped up over the side of the couch. A man of his stature, sprawled out on luxury, dark wooden floors like a toddler is quite the sight. However, Geto wants the details. He doesn’t laugh.

“If you stop pouting and tell me I’ll give you the box.”

“She was a year below me, we dated in my last year of high school and I broke up with her.” Silence. Geto’s waiting for the rest of the story, shoving another piece of soft cookie in his mouth. Gojo throws his hands up in exasperation, but it does nothing to placate his roommate. He pulls his legs down from their position on the couch, propping himself up on one elbow and letting his head rest limply on his shoulder with a huff.

“I broke up with her a week before her birthday so I could be single for college,” Gojo murmurs, hurried and hushed, leaning over to reach for his reward. His fingertips are just a hair shy. “Gimme the box.”

As he promised, Geto slides him the box. It doesn’t come without a disapproving tsk, though, which Gojo ignores in favor of finishing off the bitten strawberry cupcake. Casually gathering the excess frosting off the side of his mouth with his fingertip and casually sticking it out, Geto casually takes Gojo’s frosted middle finger into his mouth to casually suck it clean. Which could mean nothing. Neither of them linger on the action very long; sharing is like a second nature to them, and that’s all that was.

“I mean,” Gojo starts through a mouthful of cupcake. “I don’t think she’s actually upset. It was such a long time ago. If anything,” Another pause for another bite. “It’s a schtick. I let her down pretty gently, if you ask me.”

All he gets in response to that is a raised eyebrow. If Geto knows anything about the sugar fiend sitting adjacent to him, it’s that he has an extremely skewed view of what it means to let someone down gently. A muffled stream of sounds tears his brain away from the secondhand embarrassment of thinking about a less mature version of Gojo “letting someone down easy.”

Gojo’s not privy to the sass packaged in that single quirked eyebrow, nor the noise, too busy on a spiel about your famous strawberry cupcakes through a mouthful of the second one. “I knew these would be in here. She used to make them, like, every week. Did you know that she uses real strawberries to—“

“Shhh.” In the fleeting, stunned moment of silence his hushing offers, Geto can hear the voices slightly clearer than before. It’s an argument, he can tell that much, but he can’t tell which apartment it’s coming from.

“… Um, anyway. As I was saying, can you tell that she uses real strawberries to—“

“Satoru, shut up,” Geto emphasizes, waving a dismissive hand in Gojo’s direction and heaving himself up off of the floor. Watching incredulously as Geto slowly saunters towards the front door, Gojo’s slack jaw opens and shuts around a silent exclamation of offense. But just when Gojo finds the words to constitute a thorough chastisement, he freezes, stiff as a board on the floor. He hears it.

From the living room, it sounds like weird, warbled, distant mumbling, incoherent sounds traveling through thick doors and thicker walls. It’s impossible to decipher even with ears as keen as his own, and for a moment, he allows himself to relax. Whatever it is isn’t his business, and he’s sure Geto is only curious about the hushed sounds because the two of them are the only ones who make such cacophonous noise in such a quiet place. However, the relief he feels is fleeting. He can now distinguish two things about the muffled racket, the first of which being that it’s coming from across the hall—from your apartment— and the second of which being that it’s a man’s raised, agitated voice.

In an instant, Gojo leaps off of the floor, long legs carrying him in determined strides to the front door until his feet are planted firmly at Geto’s side. With an ear pressed against the door, his violet eyes, usually so composed that they’re unreadable, are held wide open, swimming with uncertainty, discomfort, and concern. For Gojo, who’s already dancing on the edge of entering fight or flight, it’s an alarming sight to see. His shoulders are tense, his eyebrows are furrowed, and his lips are worried by sharp teeth, obviously disturbed by something Gojo didn’t quite catch from his place in the living room. From Geto’s perspective, things are not much better. Beside him, Gojo’s reminiscent of a guard dog on high alert, all adrenaline and potential energy and paradoxically controlled instability. He’s got a white knuckle grip on the door handle, his blue eyes flicking back and forth and up and down in a way Geto would describe as erratic if he wasn’t so familiar with him.

Neither of them need to say anything. It’s written in olive, and golden tan, and black, and white, and violet, and cerulean. Gojo stares through the peephole in the door, catching the moment your apartment door swings open.

It’s him. The guy you have littered all over your social media accounts. Not quite as tall as himself or Suguru, but muscular, broad, denotatively handsome in a sharp, steely way. If he didn’t know any better, Gojo might even say that he looks like the dangerous, violent type. That thought doesn’t go away when Gojo watches him lean down, purposefully imposing over your much smaller frame, until he’s eye to eye with you, saying something Gojo can’t make out with either his eyes or his ears but he knows it’s not something good. He hears a mumble, and assumes that’s what prompts the man to scoff and stand up straight again.

“You’re always fuckin’ complaining about something. Fuck’s sake,” He says with a shake of his head, his body language anything but loving or caring or whatever boyfriends are supposed to be. Geto looks down at the floor once your boyfriend’s words to you register in his head, while Gojo looks straight ahead like a laser sight on a sniper rifle, scarily still.

“I’m going home. I’m not staying if you’re going to act like a fucking crazy bitch just because I’m too busy to text you. Some of us have real fuckin’ jobs.” Without a second look at you, the man starts down the hall and disappears into the elevator. It’s cruel. It’s hard to watch.

Your apartment door is left wide open, with you standing pitifully still and shrunken in the doorway, the antithesis of the version of you that gave Gojo’s wit a run for its money just eight hours earlier. Never before has he seen you look so… scared. So stripped. So small. Something about the way that man has left you nothing more than a shivering shell of yourself makes his stomach twist. Gojo watches your bottom lip quiver as you stare at the floor, and the tears that roll freely down your flushed face as you weakly close the door.

Solemn, sobering silence fills the air of their apartment in the aftermath of what they just witnessed. Gojo doubts that, next to him, Geto isn’t also simmering with a nauseating mixture of nasty emotions, but even if neither of them can muster up anything to say in the moment, they both know it’s different. It’s personal for Gojo, it’s visual, it’s visceral, it’s more than something that happened to the sweet new girl across the hall. As if he were on autopilot, Gojo grips the door handle again, waiting for Geto to move out of the way.

“What are you doing, Satoru? I don’t think now is the best time…” Geto whispers, casting an apprehensive gaze to the hand on the doorknob.

“It’s fine,” Gojo whispers back, and although Geto’s unsure of how true that statement is, he steps away from the door. There’s something unfamiliar stirring in his blue eyes. Something bigger than what he’s thinking of.

Shutting the door behind himself, Gojo bridges the gap between his apartment and yours in two slow steps. It feels weird to stand in the same spot as him; it feels weird to stand in the place of someone who spoke to you like that, swearing at you, shouting at you. To Gojo, it almost feels like standing in the wreckage after a disaster, wondering why the earth kept spinning after something so awful.

He can’t get the image of you standing in the doorway out of his head. Gojo sees every version of you he knows flash in and out of that doorway. The version of you that was so happy to wear his hoodie, and the version of you that was so nervous to show him your art for the first time. The version of you that was dressed head to toe in cheesy Christmas pajamas. The version of you that was soaked from the rain at his house. The tiny version of you that was caught in pictures lining every wall of your parent’s house. The version of you that stood in front of his door in shock that he was your neighbor. The versions of you that were all so lively, and witty, and sharp, and strong, all crushed into nothingness by a piece of shit that didn’t care to look back at you as he walked away. A sorry fucking bastard that purposefully towered over you just to scare you, and that yelled at you like you were a kid, and that swore at you, and that called you a fucking bitch.

It isn’t until now that the questions start to roll in. Is he always like that? Is this a common occurrence? Is it worse than what he just witnessed? Does anybody know? Has anybody else witnessed this? Has anybody helped? Has anybody said anything? How long has it been like this? You looked scared, you looked embarrassed, you looked hurt, but you didn’t look surprised. The thought makes his skin burn. Part of him wonders if Geto was right about this not being the best time to bother you, but by the time he finishes that thought he’s already knocking on your door.

You’re just on the other side of the door when he knocks. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, it’s replaced by a type of exhaustion that runs through your veins and seeps into your bones, heavy and achy and sore. You’re tired. You’re embarrassed and ashamed. You want to go to bed.

“It’s me. Open up,” Gojo says through the door, uncharacteristically reserved and gentle. The softness of his voice catches you off guard, juxtaposed against the venomous words spat at you ten minutes before like the merciful coolness of the night after a brutally hot day. Your throat feels tight all over again, choked up from something as simple as someone speaking to you so gently. Tears well up in your burning eyes as you stifle a sob, and you know the sharp inhale can be heard through the hardwood. It’s a nauseatingly sad sound, and Gojo frowns. “Come on.”

It feels impossible to turn the knob, impossible to pull the door open, and impossible to stand once you’re no longer guarded by two and a half inches of mahogany. Right now, standing in front of Gojo feels worse than being naked, like you’re more exposed now than you ever have been when undressed. You want to run away from the vulnerability. You want to slam the door in his face and hide. You don’t want his pity. But you know whatever he’s here to give you is not pity.

“Hey,” He starts, his fidgeting hand rubbing at the back of his neck where his skin meets his undercut. You recognize the action, born from the same fidgeting movement as when you really knew him, when his hair was longer, when he would twirl the hair at the base of his head around his slender finger over and over and over again. It’s not a nervous tic, though. It’s just something to do with his hands. Focusing on that is easier than focusing on the concern in his eyes.

“Hey,” You reply in a whisper, your voice hoarse, warbled from teary eyes and a trachea that feels like it’s wrapped in barbed wire. Shame smothers your weak body like a weighted blanket, but you hang onto what’s left of your pride and force yourself to keep your chin high.

For him, it’s easier to focus on the lock of hair left out of your haphazardly tied ponytail than the way your hand shakes against the doorframe. “I’m not here to fuck with you or anything. Suguru wanted to exchange numbers for…”

If you need them. For when you need them. For when you’re feeling unsafe. For when that sorry fucking bastard scares you again.

For when you want to make sure it’s the last time that piece of shit scares you.

Gojo’s steely blue eyes flick down the hallway, tracing the path to the elevator. You watch his jaw clench.

“… Emergencies.”

Swallowing, thick and dry like your throat is coated in a layer of cotton, you nod. If he caught you at any other time, you’d roll your eyes. You’d make a snide remark and squint up at him. You’d tell him you can handle yourself. But there’s a reason he’s caught you now. Gojo wouldn’t have done this at any other time and you want to throw yourself in a heap on the floor and cry.

Wordlessly, the two of you exchange numbers. It’s nothing more than two new contacts, yet Gojo passes your phone back and it feels two tons heavier in your exhausted, shaking hand. You mutter a “thank you” and step back into your apartment, but Gojo catches the door with his hand and makes sure to meet your weary eyes with his own. For a fleeting moment, it feels like you’re seventeen again. His five words of parting linger in the air around you for the rest of the night.

“Just… don’t be a stranger.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #jjk geto #suguru geto #stsg x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo x you #geto x you #stsg x you #vallification

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attichaos · 2 years

Text

Colour Magick Correspondences & Ideas

*longer read*

Pretty easily applied for both beginner, closet and experienced practitioners alike! Can be used in most areas of mundane and magickal life (with some ideas listed below).

White

→ Cleansing, clarity, blessing, healing, innocence, truth, connection to spirits or the spiritual world, divine connection, consecration, dream work, psychic connection, purity, rest, moon magic, angelic work, devotion, harmony, prayer, peace, purification, universal truths. White can also be used as an all-purpose color for your intention when the color you want is not available.

Black

→ Banishing, transformation, uncrossing, endings, domination, protection, reversing, repulsion, freedom from evil, cursing, cloaking, sophistication, security, emotional safety, closure, breaking patterns, grief, mourning, absorbing, removing, trapping, encasing, the unconscious, mystery, shielding from the evil eye, *similarly to white - as black is an absence of colour it can be used for any colour if you don’t have them available* - personal opinion

Red

→ Passionate love, energy, action, attraction, sexuality, magnetism, will, force, anger, fire within, courage, warmth, lust, drive, pleasure, vitality, vigor, excitement, desire.

Orange

→ New opportunities, new ventures, new beginnings, change of plans, encouragement, opening the way, removing blocks, physical comfort, warmth, security, ambition, creativity, courage, optimism.

Yellow

-> Optimism, prosperity, happiness, good luck, attraction, success, confidence, visibility, fame, self-esteem, communication, concentration, focus, inspiration, intellect, logic, memory, knowledge, learning.

Green

→ Prosperity, abundance, wealth, generosity, money luck, career, growth, fertility, gambling luck, business, a good job, harmony, balance, healing, self-love, altruism, universal love, contact with fae and nature spirits.

Blue

→ Reconciliation, harmony, peace, kindness, healing, ideas, intelligence, wisdom, loyalty, sleep, meditation, communication, creativity, dream work, trust, blessings, calm, forgiveness, truth, bliss, inspiration, fidelity, honesty.

Purple

→ Healing, calming, tranquility, spirituality, meditation, pacification, cooperation, sensitivity, compassion, empathy, selflessness, empowerment, controlling, commanding, mastery, power, ambition, achievement, charisma, luxury, expansion, psychic ability, spirituality, authenticity, truth, transformation, insight, justice, wisdom, politics, divination, ESP, intuition, wishes, influence.

Pink

→ Romantic love, friendship, soul mates, sweet feelings, emotional healing, heart connection, affection, family love, admiration, physical tranquility, nurturing, warmth, youthfulness, healing grief, compassion, forgiveness, beauty, unconditional love.

Brown

→ Justice, balance, grounding, court cases, legal matters, being down-to-earth, practical matters, seriousness, reliability, support, stability, safety, earth, nature, animals, home, nostalgia, basic needs being met, balance.

Grey

→ Neutrality, neutralizing, invisibility, working in “gray areas,” anonymity, hiding from others, working in-between worlds, secrets, occult and arcane wisdom, reversing, uncovering mysteries and secrets, lifting curses, undoing prior spell work.

Silver

→ Dreams, intuition, psychic work, courtesy, honor, moon magic, rhythm, cycles, divination, illusions, glamour spells, wisdom.

Gold

→ Prosperity, fame, luxury, generosity, optimism, wisdom, enlightenment, victory, sun magic, confidence, life force, power, attraction, magnetism, vigor, charisma.

*highly recommend Madame Pamita’s Book of Candle Magic - covers colour magic especially in relation to spell work with candles.

Ideas

→ candle magick

→ glamour magick - also wearing/makeup using a colour which corresponds to the property you desire (good for closet witches)

→ sigil magick

→ craft magick

→ kitchen witchery - eg. Putting a specific colour food dye in a cake or drink etc

(Essentially anything you want!)

Merry meet,

Atti <3

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tonixe · 9 months

Text

headcannons spending christmas with coriolanus

A/N: I did both, lmao. Merry Christmas pookies. <3

WARNING: None, just pure fluff, wait...some nsfw???

PAIRING: Coriolanus x reader

WORD COUNTER: 654

✧ Imagine spending Christmas with Coriolanus snow. The tree would of course be all his, he would always pick out all the decorations, the star, ornaments, and no light because it gives the tree a tacky appeal.

✧ The color would be of course red, white, and gold. You tried to add some colors for the holiday appeal but it was always struck down, even if you begged him to. The enormous tree, with a red and gold lining of the tree skirt underneath it, and ornaments hanging on the tree, coordinately arranging it in order and a sparkling golden star on top, perfectly bringing in the elements of the evergreen tree.

✧ Though you didn't get to touch the tree, you didn't mind, you knew he knew what was doing, and the tree looked great. "It's perfect," you said, smiling at him. Looking up at the beautiful tree.

✧ You loved Christmas, saving recipes for Christmas for special desserts you wanted to surprise Coriolanus with. You were busy in the kitchen, making some gingerbread walls, putting the dough onto the baking tray, and loading it into the oven. Arranging the edible decoration of candy to decorate, you made sure to attentively make sure the small candies matched the ones of the tree. Red, gold and already made white. You hoped Coriolanus would like it, and you baked some cookies on the side for him.

✧ Christmas was something that shouldn't disappoint, it did come only once a year, and the biggest holiday of the season for most, setting the timer, as you took off the apron around your waist, being surprised by Coriolanus with his hands around your waist, his lips connecting with yours, bending yourself towards his kiss.

✧ Spending Christmas with Coriolanus, he would always surprise you with a mistletoe with a steamy kiss, his hands around your waist.

✧ Coriolanus would love to surprise you with big gifts, like diamond bracelets, necklaces, shoes, or expensive fabrics. Christmas day, he would just shower you with gifts, the maids and Butlers lining up to show you the special gifts he purchased. Your eyes glowing with delight, crossing your legs at looking the perfectly wrapped and ribbon tied gifts.

✧ It wouldn't be Christmas without a Christmas dinner, all kinds of food, luxurious and delicious on the grand table, sitting horizontally away from Coriolanus, your eyes sparkling with awe, with the surprise he had given you. "Corio, is this all for me?" you questioned, as he nodded. Well, he had to treat the prize jewel of Panem to glorious things, and second to that the mother of offsprings.

✧ You would of course have a gift for Coriolanus, a special one. One that you thought of with time and even asked his cousin, Tigris. Holding a special box hidden within a gift you wanted to surprise him like he did with you.

✧ Soon giving the special gift to him, butterflies fluttering into your stomach, feeling your palms sweat, and an anxious feeling circling you. His slender finger opened up the red satin box, and his eyes widened at what was inside a bejeweled snow charm bracelet. "Do you like it...Corio" you asked hesitantly, "It's perfect," he said, taking out the jewelry, "You sure?" you questioned.

"Yes, it's wonderful" He smiled his eyes flickering at you, "I'll wear it, every single day" He looked at the sparkling jewelry on his wrist, "I'm glad..let me put it on for you" You smiled, getting up, inching towards him. Placing yourself on his lap, and delicately putting the piece of jewelry around his wrist, "Thank you darling" you place your hands on the side of your face, kissing him... his hands on your waist.

Before you withdrew, "Merry Christmas, Corio" you whispered..."Merry Christmas, my dove" he pushed the strands of your hair over your ear, his eyes staring at yours, as the crackling fire rang out.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus smut #president coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x you #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosbas #tbosas movie #tbosas #hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x reader #christmas #christmas special

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weemssapphic · 1 year

Text

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 3

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: The Morning After™️ or what I like to call Feelings have Entered the Chat.

words: ~4.2k | ao3 link in title

chapter-specific warnings: light smut (cunnilingus, larissa receiving), slight angst, shapeshifting (of a non-sexual nature), fluff

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A bright beam of sunlight on your face woke you from your slumber. You blinked your eyes open, briefly dazed and wondering where you were. The bedroom was absolutely opulent, decked out in luxurious wood furnishings, mirrors with gold finishings, the works.

Last night’s events came flooding back to you and you felt your chest and face go red. Your chest, which you realized was completely bare. You pulled the sheets up to cover yourself, suddenly a bit self-conscious.

“Have you finally chosen to join me in the land of the waking, my dear?” A smooth voice to your right snapped you out of your daze and you whipped your head around to find Larissa seated at her vanity in a silk robe, pinning her hair up into her signature updo. Her lips curved upwards into a devilish smirk and her eyebrow was quirked.

You frowned, having hoped you’d wake up in the older woman’s embrace. “How long have you been awake?”

“A while,” Larissa admitted. She used her teeth, her brilliantly white teeth, to pry open a bobby pin, before pinning up another curl at the crown of her head without looking in the mirror, as if she’d done it a million times before. A faint blush colored her complexion. “I watched you sleep for a while, but I’m an early riser so I tend to get restless.”

Heat spread through your entire body at the prospect of Larissa holding you, watching you as you snuggled into her, blissfully unaware. “I’m sorry, if I’d known-”

Larissa silenced you with a wave of her hand. “Nonsense. You need your sleep. Now,” she pinned two final curls in place. “Do you drink coffee?”

“I do.” You smiled, watching Larissa stand and make her way towards what you presumed was the kitchen.

“Stay here,” she ordered, before disappearing for a moment.

She returned a short while later with a small tray consisting of two mugs of coffee and some milk and sugar, which she set gingerly on the bedside table closest to you before joining you on the bed.

You sat up, wincing slightly at the soreness between your legs - an action that didn’t go unnoticed by the blonde.

“Was I too rough last night?” She bit her lip, worry evident in her gaze - it warmed your heart, the way she cared for you, even though you barely knew one another.

“Not at all! It’s a good kind of sore, I promise.” Larissa’s eyes flicked between yours, searching, then a slow smile spread across her face when you beamed back at her, cheeks rosy.

Larissa leaned over you to reach for the tray. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Oh, um, milk and sugar please." You glanced at her shyly. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth.”

“So do I.” Larissa winked at you, preparing your coffee and handing you one of the mugs.

You drank your coffee in amiable silence, thighs pressing against each other. Though Larissa’s updo was already perfectly in place, her face was bare - blonde eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbones, pale pink lips closing around the rim of her mug. There was a scar just above her lip that had somehow escaped your notice until that point, and it made her even more stunning.

“You look beautiful,” you said, unprompted. A heavy blush overtook Larissa’s face, not unlike a sunset.

She brought a hand to your cheek, stroking your jaw with her thumb, and a shiver ran down your spine. “Sweet girl, kind girl,” she murmured. Her words shot straight to your core.

You surged forward, claiming her lips with your own. Your tongue soothed over the scar, eliciting a surprised whine from Larissa’s throat. You set down your own mug and reached blindly for Larissa’s, causing her to chuckle.

“Insatiable, aren’t you?” she teased.

You huffed. “You would be, too, if you hadn’t gotten to taste me yet.” Larissa’s eyes darkened and she moaned, grabbing you by the waist as she pulled you on top of her.

“You want to taste me, darling?” she panted between kisses.

You nodded fervently, pulling her robe open and pushing it off her shoulders.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You wasted no time and began to place a plethora of open-mouthed kisses down Larissa’s body as she positioned herself on her back. You nipped and sucked at her pale skin, spurred on by the way the blonde was moaning beneath you.

You settled between her legs, inhaling deeply, aroused by her scent. Her cunt was already dripping for you.

“Darling, please,” Larissa whimpered, her hands coming to rest on your head, pushing you into her sex. You licked a path through her folds, gathering her juices on your tongue, moaning against her sensitive bundle of nerves. The vibrations drew a moan of her own from her throat, and she bucked her hips into your mouth.

A ringing phone caused you to pause your ministrations. Larissa’s hips stilled; she dropped her head back and groaned, before reaching blindly over to the nightstand and grabbing her phone.

“Marilyn, what can I do for you?” She propped herself up on her elbows and mustered her most professional tone, though she sounded a bit out of breath.

“Slow down… Ms. Addams did what? … Thank you for informing me. I will take care of it… No, no, you didn’t disturb me at all…”

You smirked, choosing that moment to latch onto her clit. Larissa let out a moan which she attempted to disguise as a cough.

“Yes, I’m fine. I must be going, if that’s all? … Thank you. Goodbye.”

Larissa glowered down at you. “Sorry?” You grinned, earning yourself a playful slap over the head from the principal.

“I should punish you for that.” Larissa’s voice was low and sultry, and wetness pooled between your thighs.

“Is that a promise?” She seemed to see the dilation of your pupils, to hear the eagerness in your voice, for she looked at you with such regret that your heart nearly clenched. “You have to work now don’t you?”

Larissa nodded apologetically. “I’m afraid I have something to take care of,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I won’t have the time to drive you home, I’m afraid, but I can call you a taxi. It’s on me.”

“I can’t ask you to pay for that!” Your eyes widened, pulse racing. The last thing you wanted was for Larissa to think you were after her for her money (which she clearly had quite a bit of, if her choice of interior design was anything to go by) or anything of the sort.

“Darling,” Larissa sat up properly so she could lean towards you, taking your chin between her fingers. “I want to. It’s the least I can do.”

You nodded hesitantly and Larissa smiled, before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips and shooing you off the bed.

You fetched your clothes off the floor and dressed, eyeing Larissa as she chose her outfit for the day - a simple yet professional olive green dress with long sleeves and a square collar.

When she turned to face you, she was wearing a full face of makeup, her signature red lip in place.

“H-how did you…?” You blinked a few times, mind reeling. Larissa smirked, cocking her head as if to say “figure it out”.

Oh. “Can you, uh, shift on makeup and stuff?”

“And stuff, yes,” Larissa teased, nose crinkling as she grinned down at you.

“But you were doing your hair this morning, couldn’t you have just shifted that, too? It looks really complicated… beautiful! But… It looks like a lot of work.”

Larissa smiled at your compliment. “I could shift it into place, yes. But sometimes I quite enjoy doing my hair and makeup by hand. It’s… soothing.”

You nodded. “I think I understand that.”

Larissa’s heart swelled, your acceptance and understanding of the deepest parts of herself nearly causing her to lose her composure and push you back onto the bed to make passionate love to you. But she had a school to run, and a situation to take care of, so she grabbed her phone and dialed the local cab company.

Fifteen minutes later, Larissa guided you out of the school via a few empty corridors and a side entrance, you assumed so as to avoid the prying eyes of students and colleagues. The cab she’d called was waiting for you by the front entrance.

She pressed a kiss to your cheek and ushered you into the cab, closing the door behind you and making her way back up to the school in a hurry.

~~~

You didn’t hear from Larissa after that. You knew she was probably busy fixing whatever issue had come up at the school, and you wanted to give her some space - not to mention you didn’t want to come across as needy. But when three days had passed and you hadn’t heard a peep from the blonde, you started to wonder if maybe you’d done something to upset her.

“Just text her,” Robin said, leaning against the counter as you twirled nervously on the barstool in your kitchen, relaying your worries to your roommate. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oh, I don’t know, she could think I’m the most annoying person to ever exist and decide she never wants to see me again?”

“You mean, just like you’re seeing her right now?” Robin raised an eyebrow and you huffed in frustration.

“You know what I mean.”

“I know. But you’re gonna kill yourself with what-ifs if you don’t. And maybe she’s thinking the same thing. Maybe she’s waiting for you to text her.”

“As if someone like Larissa is waiting for me to text her.” You rolled your eyes, anxiety gnawing at your stomach.

“Fine, then don’t. But your moping is getting annoying.” Robin shot you a grin before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and heading for her bedroom.

You eyed your phone warily. What would you even say? Hi, are you alive? Hi, do you hate me now? Hi, I miss you. You cringed at yourself.

Just as you reached for your phone, Robin peeked her head back into the kitchen. “Are you still coming to Jericho with us this weekend? Leah needs to know.” Robin’s sister had just started working at Pilgrim World and insisted you all visit her at work, offering to get you free admission for a day.

“Uh, yeah, sure, I’ll go.” You smiled at the brunette, who nodded and replied, “cool, I’ll tell Leah then” before disappearing from view.

You breathed out a sigh. You could do this. It was just a text. And if Larissa really didn’t want to see you anymore, well, you barely knew each other anyway. You’d get over her. No harm done, right? Your stomach churned at the thought of having to get over Larissa Weems.

Y/N: Hi :) Just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Is everything alright?

You held your breath for a moment, before realizing it would probably take a while for her to reply if she was working, tossing your phone on the counter and dropping your head into your hands. Your ringtone sounding moments later nearly caused you to fall off the barstool.

Your heart thundered wildly in your chest as you answered Larissa’s call.

“Hi.” You tried not to sound as out of breath as you felt.

“Hi, darling,” Larissa sounded exhausted. “Thank you for checking in. I’m sorry I didn’t contact you sooner, this week has been… trying.”

“I’m sorry, Larissa. If there’s anything I can do…” There was a beat of silence in which you swallowed nervously.

“Don’t be.” Her voice was soft, laced with something akin to regret. “I’m afraid I don’t have much time this week, however, we’re planning an event for the school and it’s very important that it goes well. Perhaps next week?”

“Yeah, of course! Just, you know, let me know.” At least she wasn’t upset with you…

“Darling-”

There was a commotion on the other end of the line and Larissa sighed.

“I apologize, I have to go.” There was a hard edge to her voice, as if she were gritting her teeth.

“Sure, uh, see you. And good luck - with your event.”

“Thank you.” You could hear a hint of a smile in her voice and took that as a minor victory, before the line went dead.

~~~

Larissa was having a very busy week. Saturday was Outreach Day and between that and the near constant shenanigans of a certain raven-haired student, she barely had a minute to herself.

Her days were an endless loop of meetings with Mayor Walker regarding Outreach Day, meetings with Sheriff Galpin regarding the mysterious monster wreaking havoc on the town, emails, proposals, staff meetings, calls with Dr. Kinbott - she worked until late in the evenings and spent her nights tossing and turning, getting up early the next morning to do it all over again.

What kept her afloat were thoughts of you, of your evening together. Conversation had flowed so easily between the two of you. Even when Larissa had laid a part of herself bare that she normally didn’t share with anyone, you’d been so accepting and understanding - despite being a normie. And you’d fitted together so perfectly in the bedroom, you’d taken her so well, been such a good girl for her. So beautiful. You’d made her feel so good - and when you asked her how it felt for her? As if you genuinely cared about her pleasure. That’s when Larissa realized she was in deeper than she’d thought.

But every time she’d wanted to call you, she was interrupted by someone. And by the time Tuesday rolled around and she hadn’t heard from you, she was afraid she’d scared you away completely with her distance. Maybe she just wasn’t cut out for this relationship thing. Not that what you two had was a relationship - yet. But when she’d woken up next to you and felt how you’d curled into her warmth, watching your eyelashes graze your cheeks as you slept beside her, she’d found herself yearning for something that had once felt so unattainable, that was now closer than ever.

Her phone pinged with a text, and her heart leapt when she saw your name on the screen.

Y/N: Hi :) Just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Is everything alright?

Having just gotten out of a staff meeting, she knew she had to take the few moments she had to herself to hear your voice.

The phone call was, of course, cut short by Wednesday Addams bursting into her office unannounced - it was just Larissa’s luck, really.

She was relieved to have heard your voice, to know you weren’t completely put off. Though the nervous edge in your tone… But those thoughts would have to wait until after Outreach Day. She would make it up to you somehow, she resolved.

~~~

The second half of the week passed much the same as the first, without any signs of life from the blonde principal who’d captured your eye - though now you knew, at least, that she didn’t hate you or anything like that.

Saturday morning came and you woke to the sound of fists pounding against your bedroom door.

“Come ON, Leah’s expecting us at 12,” Robin yelled.

You groaned, rolling over in bed and peeking at your phone. Shit, you’d overslept.

“Sorry,” you called, voice still raspy with sleep. “I’ll be done in 10.”

Leaping out of bed, you rummaged through your closet, opting for a simple black turtleneck and a pair of jeans before heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth and yank a brush through your hair.

The drive to Jericho was the first time in a week you felt carefree, thoughts of Larissa far from your mind as your roommates cranked up the radio and sang along to Taylor Swift.

When you arrived, Robin parked the car and the four of you spilled out. You were surprised to find the small town bustling with people.

“What’s going on here? The last time I was here it was like a ghost town.” You eyed a group of teenagers crossing the street towards Pilgrim World.

Robin shrugged. “Wanna get some coffee at the Weathervane before we meet up with Leah?”

You nodded and followed your roommates into the little café, where more teenagers sat in various booths, chatting away.

“They look like Nevermore students,” Robin muttered under her breath, and your stomach flipped. If that was true, did that mean Larissa would be here as well? Was this part of the event she had mentioned? You scanned the café, finding no sign of the blonde.

Shaking your head lightly, you got in line behind your friends and tried to redirect your thoughts.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice with a lilting English accent called out from behind you. Butterflies erupted behind your navel as you whirled around, craning your neck back to gaze up at the very woman you’d been daydreaming about seconds prior.

“Larissa?” She looked almost shocked to see you, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape, before a wide smile spread across her face.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Larissa said softly.

“Uh, my friend’s sister works at Pilgrim World and got us free tickets,” you replied, unable to stop your own grin.

Larissa opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by Cassandra’s voice behind you. “Earth to Y/N, are you gonna order something or just stand there flirting?”

Heat rose to your cheeks and you smiled shyly at Larissa, who was turning rather pink herself.

You turned to the barista. “Can I just get a hot chocolate please?”

“Make that two.” Larissa leaned over your shoulder, brushing lightly against the fabric of your turtleneck, and handed the boy a folded ten dollar bill.

“Are you sure? You don’t-”

“Yes.” Larissa’s voice was firm and commanding, and you shivered.

“Thank you, Larissa,” you replied quietly.

“I have 20 minutes before I’m expected to meet with Mayor Walker, if you’d like to join me?” Her voice was so full of hope it made you melt, and you nodded eagerly.

“So should we wait for you or…” Robin raised her eyebrow at you, tilting her head towards Larissa.

Your apologetic gaze said it all, and Robin giggled. “Just text me if you need a ride home.” She smirked and led your friends out of the café.

You waited for your drinks in silence, Larissa glancing around the café almost nervously. When the drinks were ready, the older woman handed you her mug and asked you to pick a booth, stating she would be right back.

You chose a booth in the far back corner of the Weathervane and sipped your hot chocolate, trying to contain your giddy excitement at the prospect of getting to see Larissa unplanned, when a tall, dark-haired woman slid into the other side of the booth.

“Sorry but I’m waiting for-” Your brows furrowed as you took in the smirk of the woman opposite you, the arched brow over icy blue eyes that bore into your own. There was something so familiar about her, so very…

Larissa.

“Oh.” Was all you managed to say. And then, “I’m sorry,” as your face turned crimson and Larissa’s smirk grew, eyes sparkling mischievously.

“You have no need to be. I thought it would be better like this. I am here on official Nevermore business after all and in my true form I’m afraid we wouldn’t have a moment to ourselves. I hope I didn’t startle you.” She cocked her head to the side, and you shook your head, drinking in her form.

She looked good, you thought. Long black hair with bangs that fell just short of her eyebrows, contrasting with her pale skin and those blue eyes you loved so much; neck adorned with a thin black choker, matching a tight black dress that accentuated her curves. Yes, she looked good. But Larissa still looked better.

“So these are your students?” You cleared your throat, looking around at the teenagers in their striped blazers. Larissa nodded proudly. “What are you all doing here?”

“Today is Outreach Day. It’s a tradition of fostering Outcast-Normie relations, a type of awareness day, if you will. I want to build a sense of community between the people of Jericho and our Nevermore family. We’re not so different, after all.” Larissa smiled fondly, taking your breath away. You could sense her pride in her work, how much she cared for her students and her school, and it made your heart swell.

“So that’s what’s kept you so busy this week?” You meant for it to come out as teasing, not expecting the principal’s face to fall a bit.

“I would have loved to see you, but an event like this takes quite a bit of planning. And I’ve got some students giving me quite the headache recently.” She smiled sadly and took a sip of her hot chocolate.

“It’s okay, really. I didn’t mean it like that. I know your job is important.” You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, hesitating for a moment. “I was just nervous to text you, I thought… I didn’t want to come off as needy or anything.” You blushed again (you seemed to do that an awful lot around her) and stared down into your mug, looking up when you felt a hand on your arm.

“Darling, look at me,” Larissa said softly, and your eyes met hers, full of care. She took a deep breath. “It has been a while since I’ve done anything like this,” she admitted, speaking slowly. “My career tends to make it difficult for me to pursue… anything, with anyone. I may be exceptionally bad at this, but I do appreciate you texting me. I actually think it’s nice to be needed - for something other than cleaning up someone else’s mess.” She smiled hesitantly, her eyes scanning your face.

To say you were touched by her openness would be an understatement. “So you don’t hate me?” you teased, earning yourself a chuckle from the older woman.

“If you don’t hate me,” she teased back.

“Never,” you replied, smiling wryly.

Larissa held her hand out for you to take. You did, and she brought your hand to her lips, placing soft kisses to your knuckles, then flipping your hand over and kissing your palm. You had to suppress a moan as her soft lips grazed your tender skin, and you could feel Larissa’s smile against your hand.

She checked her watch and sighed, eyes fluttering shut momentarily. “I have to go. The mayor and I are inaugurating a fountain for Joseph Crackstone in the town square this afternoon. The Jericho High School marching band will be putting on a little concert. One of my students will even be joining them. If you’d like to watch…” Her tone was hopeful and your pulse quickened at the thought of Larissa wanting you there.

“Of course, I’ll be there.”

Larissa leaned in to kiss you - and you froze. It was Larissa, you knew it was Larissa from her eyes, her mannerisms - and yet the woman in front of you just looked so different, it gave you pause. It almost felt as if you were somehow going behind Larissa’s back.

She stopped inches in front of your face, sensing your hesitance.

“Is everything okay?” She furrowed her brows in worry, her stomach sinking.

“Yeah - I’m sorry, it’s silly.” You waved a hand in front of your face in embarrassment. Larissa cupped your cheek, forcing you to meet her gaze.

“Nothing’s too silly for me, love. What is it?”

“I just… you’re, you know,” you gestured lamely down her body, cheeks flushing as her eyes bore into your own, the gears in her mind turning as she struggled to follow your train of thought. “You’re not you? Well you are, but you don’t look like it - I think,” you were stumbling over your words, internally scolding yourself for surely offending the shapeshifter with your ignorance in these matters.

Larissa’s face softened as you continued your rambling. “I just feel like I’m, uh, cheating on you if I kiss you like this? Which is ridiculous, I know, because we never said if we were even exclusive you know, so if you’d like to see other people as well that’s totally cool with me, I just - you know what? Forget I said anything. Maybe you should kiss me, shut me up or something.” The shapeshifter giggled, a bright, dazzling smile stretching from ear to ear. “As much as I would love to kiss you senseless right now,” she started, her warm breath mingling with yours, drawing a whimper from your throat. “I am quite flattered that you prefer my natural form. And I would not like to see other people, I am quite enamored with a certain rambling someone.”

tags for those who seemed interested: @rainbow-hedgehog @enchantressb @alder-saan @eveymay @amateurwritescm

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #principal weems x reader #principal weems #lipstick stains #lipstick stains series #i can remove the tags if you don't wanna be tagged just let me know hehe <3

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