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glasvera · 2 years

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Tell Me What We Are

Kevin x Fem!Boss/Boss Lys

Description: It's been about a month since Kev and Boss Lys admitted their feelings to one another. Two kidnappings and a lot of life-threatening violence later, she's convinced herself that pushing her friends away, especially Kevin, is the only way to keep them truly safe.

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of blood (stitches coming undone on a stab wound), alcohol, and vomiting from said alcohol consumption.

A/N: This is functionally a sequel to "Soaked" but can be read as a standalone! I have so many feelings about these guys.

Word Count: 4667

Her glass hit the bar counter with a thud, the ice rattling inside as she huffed out a sigh. She braced her forehead against the palm of her hand as her eyebrows knit together, trying to gather her thoughts yet also drowning them with alcohol. The bass of Kev’s playlist still thrummed quietly in the background, sounding lifeless now as it echoed off the church’s interior amidst the decor of balloons and blood splatters.

Lys’s whole body was taut as she chased back another rum and coke. She swallowed it with a wince as it hit the back of her throat, feeling no more relaxed than she had several glasses ago. Lost in her own head, she didn’t realize Kevin had come to stand next to her until he leaned forward against the bar. Her hand came to clutch at her chest in surprise and she gasped sharply. She briefly lost her balance on the stool, stumbling a bit, and her fingers went white-knuckled around the glass she kept herself from throwing across the counter.

“Whoa, whoa, Lys. It’s just me,” he reassured her as he placed a comforting hand on her back. “Thought I might find you here after…” he cleared his throat, stopping himself from finishing that sentence. “You, uh…” he glanced down at the glass in her hand that the bartender was moving to refill. “You doing okay?”

She grimaced, turning away from him as she steadied her breathing. “Mm… I’ll be fine,” she replied curtly, albeit slightly slurred. “I alwaysh am.” Tears threatened to form as she thought about what could have happened, what had almost happened to all of them. “...have to be,” she whispered under her breath.

Kevin turned to the bartender and shook his head, making a motion with his hand at his throat to cut her off. He pulled up the stool next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and placing his hand over hers.

“Lys, you’re shaking,” he observed, squeezing her a little tighter.

“Mmhmm… Pro’lly the A/C,” she murmured dismissively as she leaned into the familiar warmth of his bare chest.

“Lysbet,” he addressed her concernedly, “look at me.”

She blinked away the wetness in her eyes as she sheepishly turned towards him. Her bangs hung over the half of her face that he could see and he sighed. He removed his hand from her shoulder to reach for her face, but hesitated for a second at the way she winced. When she finally nodded, his fingers gently brushed the locks of hair away, and he felt a pang of sadness at her downcast expression. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, but it was as if all other color had been drained from her character completely.

“Shouldn’t have t'see me like this,” she whispered as her eyes darted off to the side and she moved to turn back away. “Y'should get some sleep, Kev.”

He huffed out a soft laugh. “We’re best friends, not some fair-weather bullshit,” he reminded her with a pat on her back before leaning closer to her ear, “and I love you. I won’t leave you like this.”

She shut her eyes, holding back the renewed onset of waterworks as she pursed her lips. “Kev…”

He had already stood up and was grabbing her hand, trying to lead her away from the bar. She tumbled forward and braced a hand against his chest as she fell against him. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he steadied her. “You need rest,” he started, glancing over pointedly at the bartender that stood at attention, “and a glass or three of water.”

She shook her head to try and stop the room from spinning around her. “Kev, you don’t have t' take care of-”

“Too late,” he interrupted her with a smile. “You’ve taken care of us enough. Let your crew take care of you now,” he reassured her with a brush of his thumb over the back of her hand before scooping her up into his arms. “Plus, I…” he trailed off for a moment as he looked up at the ceiling. “I wanted to talk to you.”

She could feel her heart clench at his words. Lys was pretty sure she already knew what he wanted to talk about; it had been weeks since their confessions and first time together, and things hadn’t exactly moved beyond that. As a matter of fact, they’d both been carrying on almost as if it had never happened. “Yeah… o-okay.”

Some of the crew took notice of the affectionate gestures between the two of them and whispered amongst each other as they cleaned up the mess the Nahualli had left. Kevin sighed, glaring at the lot of them. “The Boss has had a long fucking day. Let me worry about her, and you guys can worry about cleaning up the church.” They all abruptly returned to the tasks at hand, hanging their heads with a chorus of “yessir”s and “sorry, Boss”. Kevin shook his head and made his way through the church as he carried her into one of the rooms of their detached living quarters. For the first time since the party, she couldn’t help but feel safe. His body was warm, and the scent of his cologne was familiar and comforting.

Gently laying her down on her side, he crouched next to her as he fixed her hair and pushed it out of her face. He grabbed one of the pillows and lifted her head to prop it up underneath. Lys’s vision was still spinning, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of him as she reached out to hold his hand.

“Lys,” he addressed her, staring at the floor trying to think of what to say. The pause gave her mind plenty of time to wander. Several iterations played out of how he was going to tell her things wouldn’t work, or how she wasn’t right for him. She wouldn’t blame him for any of it. Fucking up relationships or misreading people was something she’d grown used to. She could handle that rejection, but she couldn’t handle the silence any longer.

She squeezed his hand firmly. “You… you d'serve better,” she blurted out, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes.

“Did I… wait, what?” his eyebrows scrunched together as he looked up at her, bewildered. “What are you talking about, Lys?”

“Being with me… s'only gonna…” she trailed off, scrunching her eyebrows as her stomach made a strange noise. “Oh shit-” she clamped a hand over her mouth. A sickening lurch in her esophagus warned her of what was to come next if she didn’t act quickly.

“Lys…?”

She gagged and pointed feverishly at the small trash can nearby. He slid it over and she snatched it as soon as it was within her reach, retching the contents of her stomach into the bin.

Kevin grimaced. “Shit, Lys. How much did you have?” he asked as he rubbed her back soothingly, holding her hair back with his other hand.

“Not… hrgk… not 'nough,” she coughed out as she breathed heavily, trying to keep it down as pain bloomed in her abdomen.

He scoffed, shaking his head and pulling away from her to stand up. “I’m gonna get you some water.” As he headed towards the door, he turned around and pointed a finger at her. “Stay on your side! You might choke if you're on your back. ”

“Yes, dad,” she murmured groggily as he exited the room. She coughed into the poor, desecrated bin before wincing at the metallic taste that filled her mouth and red splatters in the can. “Shit…” She glanced down beneath her jacket. Blood pooled at the knife wound she’d hastily stitched up earlier in the day, soaking into the sheets underneath her. The myriad amount of heroic stunts and near misses all seemed to be catching up to her at once, and her vision darkened slightly as she tried to blink herself awake.

“Alright. If you’re done spewing, let’s get you upright so we can get you hyd-” The glass crashed against the floor as Kev dropped the water he was carrying. He saw her panting heavily, arm draped off the side of the bed with blood coating her fingers. “Lysbet!” He yanked off one of the pillowcases, balling it up in his hands as he pressed it to her stomach to stifle the bleeding.

“I’m… fine… Kev,” she muttered weakly, attempting to wave her hand dismissively at him before it fell limply at her side.

“Fuck no, you’re not!” He sat her up enough to remove her jacket, getting a closer look. “You’ve been running around with this all day?” he asked incredulously. She looked even paler than when he’d found her at the bar.

She slumped against her elbows, dizzy from alcohol and blood loss. “Thought… thought I’d stitched it up enough… figured it was fine.”

“You do realize alcohol is a blood thinner, right?” Eli’s voice piped in from the doorway, having heard the shattering of glass. Kev shot him a “not now” look as he continued dabbing at the wound with a fresh cloth. He shrugged apologetically. “I’ll just… go grab the first-aid kit.”

“Don’t forget the vodka!” Kev called back as he shook his head at her. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Her eyes were half-lidded as she tried to look at him, nodding faintly as blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth.

-----

Lys didn’t even remember passing out. She woke up to the harsh light of morning pouring through the window and scrunched up her face, her head feeling like it had been the victim of multiple stab wounds. She groaned and tried to sit up, grimacing at the pain in her abdomen as she looked down to see fresh bandages around her waist.

A long, drawn out sound somewhere between a whine and a howl emanated from the corner, and she looked over to see Kevin groggily stretching out his arms over his head from one of the chairs next to the bed. He opened his eyes and gave her a wide grin. “Morning, princess. How are you feeling?”

She rubbed the sleep out of one of her eyes and crossed her legs under the covers. It dawned on her that there was no blood on the sheets and that she must be in Kevin’s room. It seemed obvious now as she noticed the stereo set up and colorful array of LED lights and posters scattered along the walls. “Mm…shit hurts, but I’ll be alright.” Her brows pinched as she realized, “Been there all night?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, guess I have. Must’ve dozed off while I was keeping an eye on you,” he admitted, craning his neck from side to side to stretch the muscles. “You’re kind of adorable when you’re asleep. A lot less murder-y.”

Lys looked away for a moment, feeling the guilt of the situation pile onto her further. “Kev, you didn’t have to-”

He sighed and frowned at her as he reached forward, taking her hand in his. “You’ve saved me twice now. Let me return the favor, would you?”

She shook her head and stared down at her lap. “You wouldn’t have needed saving to begin with if it weren’t for me.”

“This again?” he huffed, slumping his shoulders slightly in defeat. “...Did I do something wrong, Lys?”

“What…?” Her head snapped towards him, confused. “Why would you…?”

“You keep pushing me away. When we…” he trailed off, clenching his jaw for a moment as he swallowed. “You said you wanted me. Wanted us.” His fingers laced through hers as he ran his thumb along the back of her hand. “I know things have been hectic, and I’m not asking you to drop everything and spend all of your time with me. But… it feels like it never even happened.” His deep brown eyes bored into hers. “I’ve tried thinking of all the things I could have done to drive you away from me, but I honestly can’t come up with anything.”

“Kev…” She scooted over, tugging on his hand gently to guide him onto the bed with her. He lied down in front of her and settled into the plush mattress, his spine thankful for the cushion of a proper bed as Lys brought his head to rest in her lap. “You never did anything wrong.” Her fingertips traced delicately along the lines of his face as she caressed his cheek, and his eyelids fluttered shut at the contact.

“Then why have you been so distant?” he asked as he brought a hand up to gently brush along the skin of her wrist, plucking at her hair tie absentmindedly.

“I…” She sighed, her lips parted in silence for a moment. “Ever since we started the Saints, I’ve been reckless.”

He snorted. “Oh right, because you were the absolute picture of safety before,” he teased.

She smiled slightly and lightly tapped him on the nose with her finger. “No, but it matters more now. The stakes are higher.” Lys pursed her lips as she looked off to the side. “You have no idea how much I panicked when I realized you’d been kidnapped. When I thought there was a chance I could lose you…”

“Lys…” He opened his eyes and stared up at her, giving her arm a squeeze. “It turned out okay though. You saved me.”

“But what if I hadn’t? What if I didn’t make it in time?” She scowled, tilting her head to hide her face behind her sleep-mussed hair. “I was the reason things got fucked up between you and the Idols. I was the reason we formed the Saints and you all put yourselves in harm’s way. Nobody would have gone after you if you hadn’t been involved with me.”

He sat up suddenly, twisting around and taking her face into his hands as the bed creaked beneath them. “Lys, I want you to listen to me carefully.” She blinked and let out a deep sigh, eyes meeting his after a moment’s hesitation, and nodded. “Things could have gone bad, sure. I’ve been faced with more thoughts of my own mortality in the past month than I’ve had my entire life. But don’t you dare say that I deserve better, or that it’s all your fault that shit hit the fan a few times. We choose to stay by your side. I want to be by your side. And you can’t decide that for me.”

She felt her eyes water and she tried to blink it away as her chest heaved with a sob. The emotional toll of the previous day and a month’s worth of anxiety was beginning to spill over, tears now streaming from her eyes. Kev’s gaze softened as he wiped them from her cheeks, kissing her forehead gently.

“I was so scared, Kev. I-”

He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her to his chest. “Shh, shh… I was scared too.” He stroked his fingers through her hair as she cried into his shoulder. “I was…” He paused with a sigh. “There were a few hours where I thought you might be dead,” he admitted, his voice faltering slightly. His arms wrapped around her tighter as he recalled the “bonding” time they’d spent with the Nahualli. “It hurt so fucking much. It was all I could do to just play along with that freak and hope that maybe, just maybe, he was wrong and you were coming back.” He chuckled softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to have my wish come true.”

They sat in silence for a moment as he held her close, allowing the shuddering of her sobs to subside slowly. The sound of his heartbeat soothed her as she steadied her breathing and nestled her face into his neck. He rocked her back and forth like a child, cradling her gently.

She sniffled. “I’m so sorry, Kev,” Lys whispered meekly as she dug her fingers into his shoulders. “For everything.”

He kissed her head and took a deep breath. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He cocked his head to the side after a moment’s pause. “Okay, maybe you can be sorry for not letting us help you out sooner,” he chastised lightheartedly. She snorted as she wiped away some of the tears with the back of her hand, nodding her head.

“Yeah, okay,” she admitted with a slight smile. She lifted her head to look up at him. “Kev?”

“Yeah?” His brow raised as he leaned his head down to meet her gaze. Her face was blotchy and puffy from crying, and her hair was a tangled mess, but he couldn’t help but find her beautiful.

“I really do love you, you know,” she murmured, brushing her fingers along his jawline. “I’ve been really shitty at showing it, I know. I just…” She drew shapes against his chest with her fingernail, biting her lip pensively. “The thought of you being in danger was worse than any thought of you rejecting me. I thought if I pushed you away…”

Kev shook his head with a smirk. “I thought we agreed to ‘forever’,” he teased, running his fingers through her hair to work out some of the tangles. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

She giggled, a genuine smile spreading across her face. “Even after all this shit?”

He cradled her head in his hands, crashing his lips into hers as she inhaled deeply, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He pressed his forehead against hers as his hands came to rest at her waist. “I love all of you. I love being with you. Crazy murder rampages and occasional kidnappings are just part of the job description.” He gave her sides a gentle squeeze, careful to avoid her injury as his eyes gazed into hers lovingly. “Plus, you deserve someone who can take care of you, too. And I don’t just mean on the job,” he punctuated with a tap of his finger on her nose.

She tittered softly before placing a soft peck to his lips. “I’ve tried to be better about that. It’s just… this is the first time I’ve cared about someone this much.” Her thumbs massaged soothing circles into the back of his neck. “And the first time someone I’ve cared about has been kidnapped not once, but twice,” she added, cocking her head from side to side in emphasis.

“Yeah, yeah. We both have some things to work on in this relationship,” he joked.

“Oh stop, that's not what I meant!” she retorted, their laughter filling the room as they held each other. She uncrossed her legs, climbing into his lap with her back to his chest. Hunching over her, his arms wrapped snugly around her tummy as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“I know.” He pressed kisses to her shoulder, his nose tickling against her neck as she shivered and let out a sigh. “So…” His fingers danced along her bandaged skin, coming to rest on her hips. “Think we could…” His hands splayed out on her thighs, slowly sliding inward. “...Make up for lost time then?”

A knock on the doorframe startled them as they halted their movements. “Thought I heard you guys talking, so I figured I’d come see how the Boss was doing and-” Eli stepped through the door, looking down at his phone as he idly swiped through his notifications. He looked up from the screen and went wide eyed, jaw hanging slightly agape. “A-Am I… interrupting something?” His voice came out in a slight squeak.

“Yeah, feels like you’ve developed a real knack for it lately,” Kevin quipped playfully as he returned his hands to a more appropriate position on Lys’s waist.

“Is Kev in there? Kev!” Neenah called out from the living room. “You said you were gonna make us waffles! It’s already 11:00!” she complained.

The boss smiled sheepishly, a blush creeping on her face as she shrugged at Eli. “It’s uh… well-”

Kev didn’t seem to mind, giving her an exaggerated smooch on the cheek as her blush deepened. “Sorry, I overslept! I’ll be out in just a sec, Neenah!” He lifted Lys with ease as he slid her off him gently, scooting off the bed to retreat to the kitchen. “Want some waffles, babe?”

“Uh-uhm-” she stammered, her whole face and chest going red with embarrassment at the pet name as her stomach flipped. “Yeah, that’d be nice. Thanks, Kev.”

Eli still stood frozen and flabbergasted in the doorway, and Kev gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder as he brushed past him. “Y-You… and Kev…?” He turned the idea over in his mind, blinking several times and adjusting his glasses. “How long has that been going on?”

Lys sighed, leaning forwards as she stretched her arms out in front of her. “It’s… complicated.” Eli furrowed his brow at her and she clarified, “A month? Technically?” She scratched the back of her head.

“You guys have been dating for a month, and you didn’t think to tell us?” he asked, voice raised slightly and almost sounding offended.

“You guys are what!?” Neenah shouted, the wooden feet of the couch screeching against the floorboards as she presumably jumped off it. A few seconds later she was at the door, catching her momentum against the doorframe while her head darted between Lys and Kev like she was watching a tennis match.

The sound of a metal bowl clanged lightly against the kitchen counter before Kevin reappeared in the doorway with a sly smirk. “Well, Lys?” he asked as he propped an elbow on Neenah’s shoulder. “What are we?”

She cocked her head to the side with her tongue in her cheek, glaring at him. “We’re… together. We uh…” She paused. “You remember that day I got stuck in the rain? And Kev had to come pick me up and drive me home?”

Neenah pondered for a moment and nodded. “Yeah! That downpour was a real doozy. Haven’t seen rain like that in years.”

"We uh… got kinda stuck. Or at least, I did. He pulled over and tried to help me and we, well…" she rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and wrapped her hands around her ankles.

“We had sex in the back of my car,” he finished for her bluntly, a proud, cheeky grin plastered on his face. Her jaw dropped and he simply winked at her.

Eli looked like he was about to have an aneurysm with the way he screwed his eyes shut and wrinkled his nose. “Ooo-kay. WAY too much information.” Neenah nodded in agreement, recoiling from Kevin and pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to clear the mental image from her thoughts. “But, I can’t help but think that you guys have been acting pretty normal this whole time. Why’d you guys hide it from us?”

Lys hung her head for a moment. “It wasn’t on purpose… like I said, things were complicated.”

Kev perched himself on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on her thigh. “We’ve all been going through a lot of shit, the Boss especially. Recent events made her silly brain think that distancing herself from us would protect us somehow.”

“Oh, Lys…” Neenah cooed, coming forward to kneel in front of her. “You know we’re all here for you.”

“We’re in this together, Boss,” Eli added, sitting next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder as the mattress shifted under their combined weight. “Kev really did speak for all of us yesterday. We love you. You don’t have to hide anything from us, and you don’t need to constantly worry about us.”

She chortled. “I’m always gonna worry about you guys.” Lys looked between the three of them, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “But… Thank you. I love you guys so damn much.” Eli hugged her a bit tighter and Neenah gave her a warm smile as she rocked back and forth on her knees.

“But…” Kev piped up, leaning closer. “...you love me a little more, right?” he teased as he gave her leg a playful shove.

The room filled with a mixture of laughter and protests, and Lys shook her head as she eyed him lovingly. “I just love you a little differently, dumbass.”

He chuckled and gave her a peck on the cheek, squeezing her thigh. “Hey, as long as I get to be your dumbass.”

“Don’t worry, Kev. You’ve always been our dumbass,” Neenah jabbed, drawing a cackle from Eli as Kev scoffed and gave her the finger. Lys snickered at him and moved to lean against him, but it was too late as he grabbed one of the pillows from behind them and smacked Neenah in the face with it. She gasped and adjusted her glasses from the impact. “Oh, you’re getting it now!” Lys threw her a pillow with a devilish grin as Neenah caught it and went to town, pummeling him with the feathery mass as Kevin was forced to go on the defensive. He guffawed, desperately holding his pillow in front of his face to protect himself from the onslaught and falling onto his back. Lys saw her opportunity and ducked underneath his cover, grabbing his sides as she tickled his ribs.

“Oh-ho that is SO not fair!” he whined between laughs as he continued to defend himself while squirming beneath her fingers.

"All is fair in love and war!" Lys cried out triumphantly in her Bossonius voice as she poked and jabbed at his ribcage.

“Eli! Hold his arms down!” Neenah ordered.

Eli shook his head with a smile as he got drawn into their fiasco. “I’ll try!” With Lys’s assistance, they pried the pillow from his hands and wrestled his arms down. Eli put his full body weight into his grip to pin his wrists down and Lys straddled him to continue her tickle attack with a devilish, toothy grin. Neenah, now unimpeded, bopped him in the face over and over with the pillow as the four of them laughed heartily.

“Oh you guys aren’t getting ANY waffles now!” Kev cackled between slams of the cushion. After a few moments of relentless tickling and pummeling, he put his full strength into his escape. He yanked his wrists out of Eli’s grasp, nearly sending the other man tumbling off the bed with the force of it as he wrapped his arms around Lys’s waist and pulled her down against his chest. “Human shield!” he called, and Lys gasped at the few smacks of the pillow she got to the back before Neenah caught on and pulled back.

“H-Hey, that's cheating!” Lys laughed as she squirmed in his firm grasp.

“Oh, now she thinks it’s cheating!” he chastised before giving her a peck on the lips. Neenah gave up her attack, and she and Eli collapsed onto the bed as they all fell into a fit of giggles. Lys rolled off of Kev as she rested her head on his chest, reaching out to take one of Eli and Neenah’s hands in each of hers.

As the giggles subsided, the Boss laced her fingers with her friends' and sighed happily. “I know I sound like a broken record now, but I love you guys so fucking much,” Lys admitted blissfully as she caught her breath.

“We love you too, Boss. No matter what,” Neenah replied, giving her hand an affirmative squeeze. “Just… no more secrets from now on, got it?”

Lys breathed in deeply, a permanent smile on her face as she nodded. “Promise.”

“Oh and, uh,” Eli chimed in as the corners of his mouth pulled back in a grimace, “maybe lock the door before you guys try to do anything next time?”

#saints row #kevin x boss #boss x kevin #saints row fanfic #fluff and angst #saints row eli #saints row neenah #i can make my own gifs for my fics you have no idea how excited i am #glasvera writes #i have a type and it's himbo #boss lys #saints row spoilers #srr spoilers

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rene-spade · 6 months

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miss louisiana i | c. leclerc, a. saint mleux | chase landry

poly! | fem! reader x obsessive! exes! charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux (+chase landry and f1 grid)

synopsis. your obsessive exes refuse to accept your new relationship with a man completely different from them. maybe they should move to louisiana? jk!. . . unless?

note. ok so reader is from louisiana and has cajun roots for context. chase landry is from swamp people 😭✌️ I loved that show when I was younger & I rewatched some recently and it reignited my crush on him sorry

WARNING(s); obsessive/possessive behavior, toxic/creepy exes (I make is as fluffy as I can tho trust), ooc Alex and Charles being a rich and out of touch, a spec of classism, stalking oops, (everyone Loves you)

miss.y/n📍belle river, la

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, jacoblandry, carlossainz55, and 1,006,349 others

miss.y/n back where I belong ☀️🌷🐊🐝🐍🌿🐠

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mariene.y/l/n be safe in the water my baby 🤗

miss.y/n yes maman 🤞😊 you know I’m protected

user oop who’s protecting you miss ma’am

user omgggg how did Charles n Alex fumble so baddd 😩😩🙏 I’ve needed y/n’s cajun french baddie ass since DAY ONE 🗣️

charles_leclerc so beautiful mon ange 😍 but that water is dark and might be dangerous. ta maman a raison!

see translation | your mom is right

user stopp didn’t y/n break things off with them???

user2 currently losing it my fav throuple might be back 💪🗣️

carlossainz55 hope you’re doing well mi dulce ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux yeah no this isn’t happening

user carlos sweetie delete this comment while you still have hands <3

user SHE’S BACK IN LOUISIANA RAHH

user2 how did I not know she was from the middle of nowhere 😭 what is pierre part??

user3 how didn’t you know!!! her dad literally used to hunt alligator before he died and her mom remarried and moved back to France . Her dad was cajun

user this might be a reach but y’all think she knows anybody from swamp people? Love that show 🤣🤣

liked by miss.y/n

♤ ♤ ♤

Alex’s leg bounced up and down nervously as her call went to voicemail for the 7th time in a row. She’d been calling your phone nonstop since hearing the news, anxious to know if it was true or not. It was always something that ate at her; her and Charles’ inability to relate to your childhood in Louisiana. They’d grown up among a higher class than you and in foreign countries. You would just giggle and wave off her concerns, insisting that even though they couldn’t understand your upbringing, that at least you could understand theirs.

“No answer.” She muttered, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. It was a habit she’d had as a child, one that you disapproved of and had trained out of her before you left them.

“She left us for a swamp man.” Charles pathetically finished Alex’s thought as they sat in his car, waiting to meet some other drivers and wags at the high-end restaurant Carlos chose.

“Don’t say it like that!” Alexandra turned her body towards the passenger window, “She didn’t leave us— not in that way! I told you she was homesick!”

Your father was a Cajun man who definitely took his culture to heart, doing a lot of hunting and fishing before he passed away suddenly when you were 12. Your mother was from France originally, and she remarried a rich Frenchman who’d ended up funding your modeling career after your success in pageantry. You moved straight to France at age 14 and found yourself in a completely different culture from how you grew up. You’d visited France before during summers with your mother, but it wasn’t home to you like Louisiana. You’d met Alexandra when the two of you were 19, and instantly bonded. Despite only really meeting briefly, it was love at first sight on Alex’s part and she supported you all the way to when you won Miss Universe after starting out Miss Louisiana.

When Charles had come along and had the same feelings that she did for you, it felt perfect, like everything had finally come together.

“With us is her home.” Charles replied, sucking his teeth.

“I can’t even—” Alex didn’t have to finish, the two had the same thought. They can’t even fathom the idea that you were with someone else.

Daniel was practically cackling in joy while Carlos at least tried to hide his amusement by covering his face. It was no secret that most of the f1 grid was praying for you to leave Charles/Alex so they could get a chance— but this wasn’t what they were expecting.

Bickering around the table ensued, only a few seconds before Alex was rolling her eyes with a groan and putting her face in her hands, “He doesn’t have any recent social media so I can’t even stalk him.”

“So we will just go there!”

“And what? Become swamp people?” Daniel was laughing so hard he was tearing up.

“Cha, that’s so ridiculous.” Alex mumbled.

“It is—!” Kika agreed suspiciously fast, “I just mean the split was recent, so maybe me and Pierre should visit her before you guys?” It’d only been a few months, but that had been enough to drive Charles and Alex a bit off the rails.

They’d only ever been apart from you for just over two days in the last year, up until you ghosted them. Well— it wasn’t technically ghosting when you left a note; a very brief letter in your familiar handwriting that told them you needed some space. They didn’t take it as a break up, although they did panic. Their numbers weren’t blocked, so they naturally took that as a good sign. This was probably because you wanted their attention since all their calls and messages were going through. The finality of it didn’t hit until it reached two weeks of no-contact from you and their photos were removed from your Instagram. The public noticed and so did the rest of the grid despite Alex and Charles’ now 3-month-long denial stage.

“le lieu s'appelle Pierre Part, yeah?” Pierre grinned and Charles sneered at him. (the place is called pierre part)

“They might have a point,” Daniel winced with a wide grin, “I think you’ll just look crazy if you show up. At least, one of us would just look like a friend who misses her, ya know?”

“None of you are visiting our girlfriend!” Alex frowned.

“Ex,” Carlos gently corrected into his fist with a cough before straightening up, “She jus’ is homesick maybe so give her some space and she will come back in no time.”

“I knew this would happen.” Alex slumped with her chin in her hand, “cet endroit est sa maison.” (that place is her home)

“You’ve never heard ‘if you love something, let it go’? If it’s meant to be, she’ll come back.” Daniel tried to reassure, but his face was almost a wince.

“We just wanted her close to us is all! We travel so much, we didn’t mean to take her away from her home—”

But Daniel gave them a look, knowing about their behavior with you. As in love with you as they are, Alex and Charles are intense about it. Endearing on one hand for awhile, but then the jealousy got worse and they were pretty delusional about their tendencies. He could understand it honestly— you were lovely. He imagined he’d be in the same state as Alex and Charles if you were his and you left him. Which is why he cut them so much slack, the rest of the table too.

“I don’t understand why she ran away like that!” Charles finished with a huff, running his fingers through his hair. He was starting to sweat. This felt like a cruel joke on your part— a mean way to get their attention.

“His ears are a little big.” Alex whispered, staring into her phone with a pout.

“et cela! regarde nos oreilles!” (and that! look at our ears!)

Pierre lost it at that; Charles pulling at his ears to make a point, “Maybe he’s just a nice guy, man!”

“We are nice!”

“Let me see.” Carlos walked around the table to see Alex’s phone.

She’d googled the name of your alleged new boyfriend— Chase Landry. He had starred on some Southern US reality show ‘Swamp People’; it mainly surrounded cajun alligator hunters in Louisiana. They had known you liked the show, but had never seen it themselves.

“Eh,” Carlos shrugged, “his ears aren’t that big. He is a little old for her though, no? 34?”

“Exactly! He is a pervert! I’m calling her again, actually.”

♤ ♤ ♤

miss.y/n 📍pierre part, la

liked by jacoblandry, carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, danielricciardo, and 1,014,108 others

miss.y/n me and my dirty swamp man foreva 🤞💛🌷🦆

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user STOPPP SHE SAID THAT’S MY MAN N IMMA STICK BY HIMMMM

user2 stfu 😭✋ the fact that this man most likely has no idea that this is going on

user3 his brother liking her posts and filling him in

miss.y/n jokes on y’all Jacob doesn’t know what’s going on either

bellahadid beautiful lily faery and her dirty swamp bf <3

miss.y/n <3 literally

user BELLA⁉️

arthur_leclerc beautiful view of the water, ma sœur!

see translation | my sister

user THEY SENT Y/NS FAVORITE LECLERC BROTHER IN TO PLAY DAMAGE CONTROL

user2 not “my sister” 😭😭😭 leclercs let her go challenge

user y/n’s harem coming to her defense like the mighty morphin power rangers 😭😂🤣

this is part 1 of perhaps 3. I plan on making part 2 much longer and more writing than social media like this one, just for some balanceee

taglist; @alliwantisadonut @splaterparty0-0 @charizznorizz

Ren

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #dark! f1 #f1 grid x reader #obsessive f1 #charles leclerc x reader #poly f1 #f1 oc #obsessive charles leclerc #ex! charles leclerc #Charles leclerc fic #carlos sainz x reader #alex saint mleux x reader #alexandra saint mleux #f1 reverse harem #swamp people x reader #chase landry x reader

2K notes · View notes

jo-com · 4 months

Note

Hello, can you please write a story about Alex and Charles dating a pop star and the three of them being supportive of each other, thank you ❤️

༘⋆₊ ⊹🔭 ⋆｡˚ ➛ No.1 Supporters

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux

Summary: Based of the request👆🏻

Genre: SMAU

Fc: Madison Beer

Note: Grammatical errors

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ 𓍢ִ໋☕️✧˚ ༘ ⋆ ─ ───────

Liked by Alexandrasaintmleux and 2,690,351 others

Yn.Updates The known Popstar singer Y/N L/N was said to go on tour this upcoming month— sources said it is yet to be confirmed!!💞

Tagged; @Miss.Yn

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Username1 OMFGGGG

Username2 Been waiting for this day to come🙏🏻🙏🏻

Username3 She’s so finee😍😍

Username4 Alex on the likes is so Cutee🥹🥹

Username5 she’s always updated!!

Username6 THEIR SO ADORABLE I CANNOT

Username7 on my knees for this girl🫶🏻👌🏻

Alexandrasaintmleux Ngl same-

Charles_Leclerc Honestly (2)

Username8 NOT THEM COMMENTING😭😭

Username9 Goals Fr!!🫦

Username10 HOPING THAT THIS IS REAL AND TO SEE U ON UR TOUR!!

…

Liked by Chalres_Leclerc, Alexandrasaintmleux, Vougemagazine and 2,590,176 others

Miss.Yn Looking forward to seeing you LA!!🫶🏻💕 Btw thanks for all the support guys and stream my album SILENCE BETWEEN SONG!!💋🥰

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Lilymhe Saw it. Listened to it. Loved it

Miss.Yn thanks babes,i was trying to impress you😉😋

Lilymhe Well i am impressed🫣

Alex_Albon uhm okay…

Username11 Stream it guys, you won’t regret it!!😍😍

❤️ Liked by author

Charles_Leclerc So proud of you mon amour💞

Miss.Yn aww charliee🥹 thanks for all the support that you and alex always give me

Alexandrasaintmleux Ofc ma jolie fille (my pretty girl) we will always be your no.1 supporter😚

Username12 If my next relationship isn’t like that idk what is

Carlossainz55 Goodluck señora!!

Miss.Yn I don’t need luck, i alr have my 2 lucky charms😋😋

Carlossainz55 Charles saw the comment and couldn’t stop smiling

Charles_leclerc Snitch🙄

Alexandrasaintmleux I am also smiling!

Username13 Now all of us are smiling🤭🤭

Username14 My favorite throuple!!

F1 Ours too😎

…

Liked by Miss.Yn, Alexandrasaintmleux and 9,309 others

Tour/updates The FORMULA 1 Driver Charles Leclerc along with his other girlfriend Alexandra Saint were spotted at the front row seat of their girlfriend Y/N L/N’s concert.

Tagged; @Miss.Yn, @Alexandrasaintmleux, @Charles_Leclerc

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Username15 THE WAY THEY LOOK AT HER IS SO SURREAL

Username16 They’re so whipped for her

Username17 Wish i were there to see😭😭

Username18 Crying at how they look at her

Miss.Yn I am so inlove with them💋💋💋

Username19 They’re so lucky to have you!!

Miss.Yn Noo i am the lucky one🫣🤭

Landonorris ew you big simp

Miss.Yn Leave🫵🏻👉🏻🚪

Username20 Lando commenting is so random😭

Username21 looking for someone who looks at me the same way they do at y/n

Username22 Finding me a Alex and Charles for sure

Username23 GIRL SAME😉

…

L iked by Miss.Yn, Charles_leclerc, Francisca.cgomes and 6,269,190 others

Alexandrasaintmleux The way she looks at me got me twirling my hair and kicking my feet in the air😮‍💨😮‍💨

Tagged; @Miss.Yn

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Username24 ALEX??

Username25 “there’s a another side that you don’t know”— the weeknd

Miss.Yn BABYYY😭😭

Alexandrasaintmleux WHAAT🤭

Username26 u know what u did😏

Francisca.cgomes an invite would’ve been nice😐😐

lilyhme same😕

Miss.Yn YOU GUYS SAID U WERE BUSY😤

Username27 I love y/n core🤗

Charles_Leclerc My Girlfriend is so pretty🫠

Alexandrasaintmleux OUR girlfriend🥰🥰

…

Liked by Alexandrasaintmleux, Miss.Yn, Carlossainz55 and 5,891,302 others

Charles_Leclerc BEGGING ON MY KNEES AS WE SPEAK

Tagged; @Miss.Yn

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Miss.Yn Not u too🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

Charles_Leclerc Whatever do u mean my love👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

Miss.Yn I can’t with you and alex🙄

Carlossainz55 what did u do to him @Miss.Yn??

Miss.Yn it’s not my fault that they’re madly inlove with me🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Alexandrasaintmleux it's so hard not to love u😖

Carlossainz55 he’s smiling like an idiot rn

Maxverstappen I can vouch for that

Charles_Leclerc WHY R U EVEN HERE

Username28 Y/n must be tired of their bs

Miss.Yn so tired😄

…

Miss.Yn Just posted!

Liked by Charles_leclerc, f1, and 7,279,109 others

Miss.Yn My turn to be their supporter!! Me and my girlfriend supporting our man😋

Tagged; @Charles_Leclerc, @Alexandrasaintmleux

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Charles_Leclerc You guys are the sweetest!!

Miss.Yn Goodluck baby!!

Alexandrasaintmleux we’re so proud of you alr mon amour

Username29 FINALLY SOME YN AND ALEX PICS

Username30 the nature of their relationship is just so envious

Username31 I want them so bad😫

Username32 i want to have what they have

Username33 don’t we all?

Username32 so true☹️☹️

F1 OUR FAVORITE WAGS ARE BACK!

❤️ liked by author

…

Like always i had fun making these!!

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

Text

In Emerald Hearts, Emerald Minds - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[mentions of unwanted advances + suggested groping + suggestive/sexual (consensual) themes]

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

SUMMARY: When Vasily asks you to forget his half-brother and marry him instead, you escape the Little Palace along Alina. Nikolai realizes something strange is going on when Kaz mentions seeing a similar emerald ring on the woman that came with the Sun Summoner. With how much you and Nikolai have been running in circles to find each other, the reunion aboard Volkvolny feels almost fated.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.6k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

It feels like the Winter Fete has been going on forever. The champagne keeps on being poured, the guests keep on dancing and the circus acts just keep on performing as though tomorrow is a mere mirage, a concept of a certain time period that never actually comes. Inside those walls of gold and marble, the misery devouring all of Ravka seems like nothing beyond a mad nightmare - something so removed from reality, it’s hilarious in its ridiculousness. Everyone is so carefree and happy you almost take their joy as your own.

Almost.

The orchestra begins playing Waltz of the Flowers and you feel your throat tighten. Despite doing your best not to, your mind relives that fateful night when everything changed. For the longest time, you’d been claiming that the change was for the better but now, standing alone for another year in a row and watching the dashing aristocrats spin to the music, you’re not so sure anymore.

“You really need to stop doing this,” Nikolai says firmly. Although his tone is decisive and clearly unwilling to accept defiance, a pronounced hint of amusement lives between his words - a thread of light-heartedness, one might say.

Your eyebrows gently furrow. “Doing what?”

“Smiling at me like that. Any longer and I might ask you to marry me.”

It feels like you’re about to burst at the seams. Trying to contain your emotions, and failing at it quite horribly, you bite your lower lip. “I might say yes.”

“Where have you gone, Kolya?” you whisper under your breath. The gloss of vacancy covering your eyes blurs the dancing bodies into one mass of faceless strangers. But it also makes you not notice someone approaching you.

“I find it quite admirable.”

Vasily’s voice startles you. To your now-gone relief, you didn’t have the displeasure of running into him all evening - until now. If you were to list all of the things about the older Lantsov son that makes your skin crawl, you’d be done by the time another Winter Fete is organized. The top of the list, however, deserves to be mentioned as it’s an inseparable part of your every interaction with the prince: he’s quite adamant and crude in his desire to be more than just a future brother-in-law to you.

“Excuse me?” you stutter out.

That patronizing look on his face is now accompanied by a cocky half-grin as he realizes he caught you off-guard. “Your devotion to my brother. For all we know, he might be already dead, Saints’ protect him.”

“Don’t even say that!” you hiss at him. Right after, you look around to check whether one of the guests has noticed your unpleasant exchange.

Despite what you’ve just said, you know he’s right. There’s no way you can be sure that your Kolya is either dead or alive. Perhaps this is the detail further ripping your heart apart - you don’t know anything about his fate; you’re mourning, although you’re yet to see the coffin. You haven’t for a few years now and each passing month of silence only made court gossip more cruel and bold.

“All I’m saying, dearest,” Vasily begins quietly as his hand drags along your arm, “is that the moment the news of Nikolai’s death reaches the Grand Palace, you’ll be thrown out. On the other hand, I can make you the Queen of Ravka. And unlike my brother, I won’t disappear off the face of the Earth and forget about his beloved lady.”

The word of endearment is dripping with sarcasm as it leaves his chapped lips. His breath reeks of alcohol and you unknowingly turn your head away. Vasily seems to think you’re about to leave his side, so his hand tightly grips your arm. The hold is almost bruising. He yanks you even closer towards himself.

“Kolya hasn’t forgotten about me,” you say in a shaky voice. Maybe he’s not as foolish as he appears and Vasily is genuinely trying to break you down.

The prince studies your face for a moment, definitely noticing how shaken you are. His eyes have the strangest glint to them - something between desire and contempt. “Is that so?” he barely stifles a grim laugh. “He would have written you a letter if that were true, no?”

Tears sting your eyes. Vasily is certainly smarter, or at least more cruel, than he lets on. He knows exactly what to say to get into your head. It’s a startling difference between him and Nikolai - only one of them does what he can to keep a smile on your face. Well, did.

His dirty, rough hand grabs your chin. Vasily forces you to look at him, his smile wavers upon noticing your desperation. “Consider your options, зайка,” he purrs out. The prince’s other hand trails your face. “The choice is yours.”

A tear falls down your cheek. You feel it rolling across your skin and you silently hope the guests surrounding you are watching this scene. Then, you lean in even closer to Vasily’s face. The whisper leaves your lips like a viper’s venomous hiss: "I will marry you the day you lay his dead body at my feet."

To your surprise, Vasily drops his hands and takes a step back. Despite the self-assured smile on his face, you can see the fury inside his eyes. “As you wish.” He bows curtly, turns on his heel and marches away, undoubtedly looking for another glass of alcohol and a lady naive enough to warm his bed.

The palace suddenly feels stuffy and overcrowded; the music is too loud, the plethora of smells make your head spin.

Outside. You need to get outside.

Bumping into several guests and mumbling half-coherent apologies, you run through the halls of the Little Palace. When the cold, night air hits your flushed cheeks, only then do you stop. Taking in a deep breath, you can actually feel your thoughts becoming clearer.

With each gust of freezing wind, all the anger and sadness is leaving your shaking body. Vasily just wanted to get a rise out of you and, as much as you don’t want to admit it, he succeeded. Unlike he claims, Nikolai surely is alive. Maybe bruised or sick or not sleeping well but as long as there’s no news about him being dead, he is as alive as one can be. The same starry sky hangs above your and his heads. Perhaps, in this small moment of longing, he’s thinking about you too. Wherever he is.

A tired sigh leaves your lips. You’re about to turn around and go back inside when a silhouette moving in the night catches your attention. The shape is swift although careful like a lizard approaching a fly. You see them looking around before running for another few meters only to hide behind a bush or piece of architecture.

Curious and a little scared, you follow the stranger towards one of the carriages. Quietly, you get close enough to grab their wrist. The shape lets out a gasp and turns around to look at you.

“Alina?!” you whisper. What in Saints’ mercy is she doing? You look at her warm, casual clothes and the bag on her back. “Are you running away?”

“I need to leave,” she answers equally quietly. Her voice as well as her stare is filled with certainty - she’s convinced beyond reasonable doubt this is the right thing to do. “Please, don’t try to stop me.”

You let go of her hand. “Stop you?” A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “I’m coming with you.”

“What?” she deadpans. Alina is staring at you with a vacant stare and her mouth slightly agape. Apparently exchanging royal comforts for hay and stolen apples is unthinkable.

“If I have to spend one more day around Vasily, I will murder someone.”

Alina slowly nods her head - she can definitely understand the sentiment. A dimwitted Fjerdan would have more charm than the older prince. But then she squints her eyes, looking at you with a sense of scepticism.

“Out there, there won’t be warm beds and three-course dinners, you know?”

“I know,” you answer with a careless shrug. Loitering and wandering isn’t for ladies of your sort, it’s like throwing a finless fish into a tank with sharks. Despite that, you’re quite convinced the means justify the end, at least in this scenario. “But out there is my Kolya. And I’m done politely waiting for him.”

A shadow of sadness covers her face. If there’s anyone who can understand your plight, it’s her. In fact, she is luckier than you - she saw her lover maybe an hour ago. Pleasant or unpleasant, the meeting confirmed to her that Mal is at least alive. It’s not a privilege you could afford.

“Then let’s go,” she says to you before opening the chest in the back of the carriage. Forgetting all of your etiquette and social standing, you climb into the compartment with her. Towards adventure or death, you’re going somewhere.

“The ring gave you away,” Kaz announces. “It’s too expensive for a bodyguard.”

Jesper knits his eyebrows together, suddenly remembering something. He leans towards Kaz but speaks a little too loudly for the question to be inconspicuous: “Didn’t that girl wear the same-”

When Kaz’s cold glare meets Jesper’s squinted eyes, the dark-skinned man immediately closes his mouth halfway through the question. Both of them sit back as they were but the cat is already out of the bag. Well, not entirely - half of it is peeking out of the metaphorical sack.

Nikolai looks between them with unmissable suspicion. Although he’s heard enough to be aware of the possibility that the Sun Summoner isn’t travelling by herself, this is the first time either of the Crows admits it.

His heart begins to beat slightly quicker: Alina run away from the Little Palace along with another woman and that lady was wearing a royal jewel at the time. As long as Vasily didn’t lose his signet on one of his distasteful escapades, the course of events points to only one person - you. Shoving his restless excitement into the deepest chasms of his heart, Nikolai manages to remain his composure:

“Who was wearing that ring?” The prince-turned-privateer unknowingly fiddles with the heavy jewellery on his finger. Noticing the Crows’ reluctance, he makes them an offer: “If you tell me who you saw wearing an emerald ring, I might, say, give you ten minutes to escape.” Nikolai vaguely gestures to the closed window on his right-hand side.

Kaz knows there’s no point in lying any longer. The man in front of him is not only well-informed but also smarter than he looks, making the Crow wonder whether he also knows the answer to this question but prefers to play some kind of a game. In any event, he’s done his part of the deal and his ex-accomplices are left to their own devices. Additionally, he could really use those ten minutes. “A young woman that accompanied Alina Starkov. High-born, confident, decisive. Not a Grisha as far as I know.”

“Not a Lantsov, obviously,” Jesper chips in.

Brekker’s keen eyes catch the barely noticeable change in Sturmhond’s expression - the corner of his mouth merely stuttered up and down but it is enough to tell Kaz as much as he needs:

“You know her.”

Know her? If Nikolai had a weaker grip on his emotions at the moment, he’d laugh until his stomach and diaphragm hurt and then he’ll burst with laughter once more, unspeakably joyous that he might get to see her sooner than he thought. Yes, he does know her but in the way heart knows blood and lungs know air. She’s the ligament that keeps his bones together, the fibres that construct his muscles, the very blood that runs in his veins. Does the Moon simply know the stars? Do trees know their roots and branches?

But for now, he needs to stay focused.

“Not really,” Sturmhond answers while scrunching his nose. “Many aristocrats wear a ring like that. While I may know of a lot of them, I hardly know anything about them.”

Kaz fights back a mocking half-grin begging to twist his thin lips. “I’d argue that an emerald in Ravka is a rather rare gem.”

“Hers is probably genuine. Mine’s stolen.”

Silence falls between the three men. Nikolai and Kaz are staring each other down, battling in some kind of war of wits and nerves, waiting for the other to give in. Jesper is stealing glances at both of them, feeling the cold tension rise in the air.

Against his deep-seated desire, Kaz doesn’t inquire further about the emeralds or the strange coincidence that the two enigmatic characters wearing them might know each other. He sits back in the chair, his shoulders visibly drop. As much as he’d love to dig deeper, he’d much rather get out of here and reclaim his freedom that is now endangered.

“Well, gentlemen,” Nikolai begins in an upbeat tone, “your ten minutes start now.”

Without saying anything else, he leaves the room. Only then, when the dark, wooden door close behind him, does he let suppressed emotions wash over him. A quiet chuckle brushes past his lips and for a moment even tears sting his eyes. Delight, worry, relief - conflicting sensations merge into one, completely overpowering flame burning inside his chest.

Maybe he doesn’t have the Sun Summoner and he still needs to come up with a plan to catch her but Nikolai hasn’t been this happy for a while now: his солиышко is alright, still making the world brighter and warmer. If he can get to Alina Starkov, he might see her again, although he begins to wonder whether she wishes to see him after all those years of silence and ignorance. But if he can see her, just witness the marvel of her entire being even for one last second, he’ll be cured of the longing and loneliness that has been gnawing at him ever since he left Os Alta.

You’re following the Shu man to what you assume is his captain’s cuddy. The ship creeks and groans under the weight of the crew as well as the power of the waves. The bussing crewmen spare the three of you a glance, only to show disinterest and go back to their duties. It’s a nice change compared to the kerchen ship you travelled on to Novyi Zem, where the captain asked Alina and you to stay under the deck because of the sailors’ superstition. After getting off the ship, it took you a good week to wash out the reek of cured cod from your clothes and hair. Sometimes you still felt like you can smell it in the air, even in the dusty wind sweeping through Novyi Zem.

Your ‘guide’ pushes the door and they swing open with a creak, the list of the ship aiding the motion. Except for the squeaky hinges, probably rusting faster than anyone can manage, Volkvolny is in good shape. In fact, it looks brand new - no mould or woodworms.

“Captain, request for charter,” the stocky stranger announces with a hint of amusement or excitement in his voice. Despite his imposing visage, the Shu man has made a good impression on you but the long sword on his back kept you vigilant against getting too comfortable in his company.

Only when he moves to the side, presenting the three of you to his captain, do you see the face of the infamous Sturmhond.

You want to laugh. In fact, you have to clench your fists to stop yourself from bursting out with laughter. This situation feels like the strangest coincidence that you can think of, which in turn makes you suspect that it’s not a coincidence at all. Because what are the odds?

Nikolai’s face momentarily brightens up when he recognizes you, a new glint lights up his eyes. He looks different than you remember but in all the right ways: his shoulders look broader and his hair is longer, curling in a way that makes him appear more infantile. You remembered him as a handsome man but the Nikolai in front of you is beautiful enough to be considered unreal.

He's staring into you like a deer caught in headlights until Tolya hands him Alina’s unusual means of payment. As Nikolai is turning the piece of jewellery in his fingers, you notice another change: his hands look rougher, definitely scarred from all the adventures you hope you’re yet to hear about.

The blond prince turns his attention back to Alina, Mal and you. “A gold hairpin can get you anywhere. But an emerald ring?” He gestures to you. “It can get you everywhere.”

“It’s not for sale,” you answer, although you know he’s not trying to buy it. After all, he’s the one that gave it to you.

“I don’t want it.” Nikolai shakes his head. Then, a flirty smile appears on his face. “Looks better on you anyway, doll.”

You’re about to respond to his remark when his attention is once again placed on Alina. “Now, Tolya says you’re looking for a charter. Where are we sailing?”

Alina begins the story with ‘the creation of the world’ as your mother used to say: the Little Palace, Darkling, Morozova’s amplifiers and the Fold. Nikolai nods along, never giving away that he’s privy to most of the story. He doesn’t believe in the Sea Whip at first but that’s hardly his fault - not too long ago people wouldn’t believe in the existence of the Sun Summoner and now she’s standing beside you, nervously rubbing her hand. As you have expected from the moment you saw that Nikolai is Sturmhond, he agrees to the insanity of taking up the quest to catch the amplifier.

“Tolya will show you around.” He sends you off. You’re about to follow your friends out of the cuddy when he adds: “You, emerald lady, I’d like to talk to in private.”

Alina gives you a concerned look (‘blink twice if you need help’) but you only smile and nod at her in response. With Mal tugging at her arm, she reluctantly leaves you and Sturmhond alone.

The moment the door closes behind Tolya and your friends, Nikolai runs around his desk towards you, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug. His hand threads through your hair, pushing your head further into the crook of his neck. Even if you tried, there’s no way you can pull away or even move. Taking a deep breath, you smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne but now it’s mixed with the scent of resin, saltwater and seaweed.

Then he pulls away, looking you up and down with burning worry. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? What are you doing here?”

You swear he could be bleeding out on the floor and still he’d be apologizing for staining your clothes. It’s heartwarming that despite the years and evident change in his appearance, Kolya is still Kolya.

A wide smile enters your face. “Looking for a frisky sailor to take me on a voyage filled with indecency, obviously.”

“Well, here he is.” Nikolai points to himself and winks at you. “And he’d really like to know why you’re in Novyi Zem with the Sun Summoner and whats-his-face and not in the Grand Palace in Os Alta.”

You let out a heavy sigh and shake your head gently. “I grew tired, Kolya.” His eyebrows slant upon hearing the exhaustion in your voice. Despite the sheer happiness he feels when you say his name, the concern gnawing at his heart seems to be more powerful. “Years have gone by without you giving me even the tiniest sign that you’re alive and well. And your brother, Saint’s have mercy on him because I won’t, has been adamant about marrying me ever since you left. I told him I will accept his proposal the day he lays your dead body before me.” You make pause, noticing a strange shadow hanging over Nikolai’s face. But he’s not saying anything for a moment, so you finish what you wanted to say: “I had to get away from it all. There’s only so much uncertainty and intruding fingers a lady can take.”

“By the Saints,” he breathes out, “did Vasily lay a hand on you?”

You feel his grip around you tighten but it’s not painful, rather securing. “If you’re asking whether he hit me or forced himself on me, then no, he did not. He did, however, make it abundantly clear what he wants from me. On multiple occasions.”

Nikolai’s face twists in a scowl. The glint that lit up his eyes when he saw you is now gone, exchanged for something dark and unstable. “I’m so sorry, if I knew-”

“I know, love,” you interrupt him. He doesn’t need to announce the ends he’d go to in order to ensure you’re safe and comfortable. Nikolai has never said or done so but you’re fairly convinced he wouldn’t shy away from fistfighting Vasily if he said something less-than-savoury to you. “But neither of us could have known.”

“I promised you’d be safe in Os Alta.”

“And I promised to stay put.” You can’t keep laughter in any longer. You’re not quite sure whether your chuckle is born out of happiness or disbelief. “Now look at us.”

Suddenly, he knits his eyebrows close. At first, you think he’s confused but then the slight rise of his cheeks suggests something closer to contempt or disgust. "Would you actually marry Vasily if he gave you my dead body?"

You can only give him an indifferent shrug. "Maybe?” you ponder aloud. “If you were dead, I would lose all care about what happens to me or with me. In a way, I’d be dead too."

Nikolai takes one of your hands and kisses its fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his warm lips against your skin. “I could never rest in peace knowing how he’s treating you.”

“Having you haunt me would be incomparably better than you just being gone. Everything is better than silence.”

His shoulders slouch. Nikolai looks away from you for a moment, admiring the floor in his cuddy but even this can’t hide his guilt and shame. “I couldn’t have just popped in for a visit. Not anywhere in Ravka.”

"You couldn't even have written me a letter?"

"Someone at the palace would recognize my handwriting. I couldn't risk it."

"Then you could have dictated the letter to one of your crew."

That self-assured, flirty smirk appears again on his face. "And scandalize my crewmen with the things I want to tell you?”

As much as you’ve dearly missed his insufferable humour, at the moment it’s making your skin crawl. “This is a serious conversation, Nikolai,” you state firmly.

“I am serious, солиышко.” The pet name rolls off his tongue with both weight and lightness as though it belongs exclusively to you and no one else can ever claim it as their own. He kisses your hand again but keeps it against his lips for a while longer. Then, he places your fingers on his chest and you can feel the soft thrumming of his heart. “Do you think I never thought about writing to you? That I didn’t stay up at night thinking about what I will tell you when we meet again? Countless letters I have begun only to tear them apart and throw them into the sea or burn them. If some people found out we know each other, you’d be in much greater danger than Darkling following your steps. I’d rather deal with the heartbreak of staying away from you than know I put you in danger because I can’t live without you.”

It brings you a grim sense of comfort that he’s been equally torn as you were over the lack of contact. You never thought about it before but Nikolai must have been worried sick, not knowing whether you’re alright and happy. Has he imagined your plight and misery as often as you did his?

“What did you write in those letters?” you ask in a shaky voice.

“I wrote about how much I miss you, how it physically hurts to consider that you might think I have abandoned you. When I was hungry, cold, tired or sick, only the memories of you made me push on. On nights when I couldn’t sleep, I’d stare at the sky above me and wonder whether you’re looking at the same stars. I wrote that wherever I go, I see your face. You are in every sunrise and sunset, every flower I see and every fire that warms me.” Nikolai lets go of your fingers, placing both of his hands on either side of your face. The softness in his eyes makes you swoon. “I only wrote the truth,” he says slowly, making sure you understand the weight of his words.

Swallowing back tears, you lean into his warm touch. “My beloved, my heart yearns for you?” you jest in a dramatic voice.

A playful smile creeps back unto his lips. “If only my heart.”

“Gross.”

“You wanted a frisky sailor.”

"You’re a pirate, not a sailor.”

"I’m a privateer,” he drones out the word as though it makes a world of a difference.

"Pirate sounds sexier."

Nikolai gives you a fake frown. “Oh, I definitely am a pirate."

Without thinking twice, he’s kissing you. The sensation is just as comforting as you remember. His soft lips are doting on you, growing needier with each peck as though this is some feverish attempt at making up the lost time.

He pulls away to catch his breath and although you’re panting yourself, you unknowingly chase after him, unwilling to dismiss this carnal desire just yet. Nikolai seems to notice your eagerness - he flashes you a cocky grin and shortly pecks your lips again.

“You crossed Ravka, the Fold and the sea just to find me?” he whispers. His eyes are stuck to your wet, swollen mouth.

“And I’d do it a hundred more times if I had to.”

You exchange a few more hungry kisses, pecking and nipping at each other’s lips, before Nikolai continues the conversation:

“I want to say that I’m flattered but I’d rather not encourage you to do something this stupid and dangerous ever again.”

“Hate to break it to you but you took all the stupid with you.”

He rests his forehead against yours; hot, laboured breaths brush against your flushed cheeks. “I’d like to clarify that I’m not stupid, I just can’t seem to think about anything other than you.”

Nikolai wraps his arms around your waist. In a swift motion, he turns you around and pushes you against the edge of his desk. His strength surprises you when Nikolai effortlessly lifts you and places you atop the table, pushing off maps and navigation essentials. Firm, warm hands are restlessly wandering across your body, unsure where to lay or what to grab.

You gasp quietly when his fingers sneak underneath your shirt. “Is this the indecent part of the voyage, my frisky sailor?”

“By the Saints, I hope so,” he whispers against your lips. Then, he furrows his eyebrows questioningly. “Is that offensive to say around a living Saint?”

“I don’t think Alina heard you.”

His nimble fingers are quickly undoing the buttons on your clothes. “Well, she will hear you in a moment.”

“Gross,” you say with laughter in your voice but the word gets muffled as Nikolai gets back to kissing you again.

Even if the crew did hear you that day, no one dared say a word.

зайка [zay-ka] - bunny (feminine; term of endearment)

солиышко [sol-nee-shko] - little sun (unisex; term of endearment)

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai imagines #nikolai x reader #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x you #sturmhond #grishaverse

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crimescrimson · 10 months

Text

Every Single GatBoss Moment Recorded [12/14]: Saints Row IV (2013)

#Crimson's Gifs: Saints Row #Saints Row #Saints Row 4 #SR4 #Saints Row IV #SRIV #Johnny Gat #Ji-Hoon Gat #Roxxi Rosé #Roxanna Rosé #Playa #The Boss #GatBoss #BossGat #Pairing: Not Without You #Johnny Gat x The Boss #Playa x Johnny Gat

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dumbsoftheart · 9 months

Text

threads of fate

pairing: peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x preachers daughter!reader

tags: 18+, mdni. dub-con, heavy and dark religious themes, dark themes, fingering, kissing, swearing, sliiight voyerism, corruption and innocence kink,

summary: after a chase in the woods, coriolanus becomes devoted to making you his one and only follower.

notes: i don't know what came over me.. enjoy!

word count: 7.2k

౨ׅৎ

the blood of the lamb, washed over the sins of those strayed away from god, atones those begging to be spared from destruction. the saccharine ichor was the ultimate gateway towards deliverance- and thus sought out by sinners and saints alike to be granted eternal redemption for the transgressions that permeated the sweats and tears of the individuals whose secrets would have them damned to the dreadful inferno beneath their feet. the sweet lamb; symbol of innocence and purity, and the wolf who hunted it, the face of deception and treachery, stood now in the heart of the woodlands, the sweet kill hidden shamefully in the asylum of the crowded aspen as it’s predator tauntingly whistled in pursuit of it’s coveted prize.

tears fell in a waterfall down into the vessels of your collarbones, trailing down and staining the frail white fabric of your dress, unveiling the soft tanned skin of your chest in its wake. with one hand clasped tightly against your mouth, you tried to conceal your wails of fear and the threatening thumping of your heart so as not to draw attention to the towering figure looming dangerously close to you, chuckling lowly as he carefully made his way through the maze of trees and forestry. your other hand was clutched desperately on the golden cross that hung around your neck, thumb haphazardly caressing the delicate engravings and etchings of the cool metal.

hail mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee. blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, jesus. holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of death.

shame washed over you as you thought of your mother and father- your dear father, and what they would make of your inevitable disappearance. you were taught the way of the lord since you emerged from your mothers womb; it followed you everywhere you went. by all means, you had lived your life for god himself. what would he think of you now? the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of god. and yet there you were, a thief, running from, no doubt, god’s punishment for your sins.

despite your fathers widespread fame throughout the district, your family struggled to bring food and water to the table regularly. seeing the despair that clouded your mothers eyes as she failed to provide a dinner some nights for her family had driven you towards madness. you grew desperate- desperate to alleviate the stress that haunted her and satiate the hunger that settled in your stomach for the fifth day in a row. you rationalised, that with your undying devotion, god would find it in him to forgive you. with all the work your father put into his sermons and dedication to delivering god's word to the poverty stricken peoples of district 12, the divine being would be forgiving in his punishment in recognition of the loyalty you harboured.

now, you knew you were wrong.

you berate yourself for even entertaining the stupid idea of pilfering from the small bakery near the marketplace. in truth, it wasn’t even stealing. you had waited until dark threatened the sky, then snuck behind the establishment to snatch a few meagre, stale loaves that had been carelessly discarded in a small bin beside the refuse receptacles. combined with the butter you had been gifted earlier in the week, these provisions would barely suffice to stifle the persistent pangs in your stomach for a few days, at most. you naively assumed you were in solitude and hastily fled when you’d filled up your small leather bag with as many old rolls and loaves as possible.

oh, how wrong could you have been? you never caught sight of the face of the man who now charged after you- only a faint glance at a familiar blue that weaved its way through the trees- but the adrenaline rushing through your veins urged you to run, and to never stop. and now, here you were, caught in the act, pathetically weeping as you waited for the repercussions of your actions to find you.

you moved to press your back harder against the thin trunk of the tree, a twig snapping under the weight of your foot, and your eyes widened with fear as the sound reverberated against the still of the forest, the soft footsteps that trailed behind you coming to an abrupt stop. then, a voice.

“my dear, it would make it so much easier for us if you just came out. i promise you, i don’t bite.” it purred. the way he spoke was low and unrecognisable, laced with an amusement that had you shiver with the depravity of it. your crying ceased at an attempt to remain as hidden as possible, nary a whimper escaping from behind the painful grip of your hand across your mouth.

“i know you know what you did was wrong. i mean, stealing from a bakery? i wonder what your father would think of you now, his daughter a thief.”

you fought back tears at the mention of your father, shame once again weighing at your conscience, “come out, and i promise your punishment won't be as harsh as it should be.”

the proposition had you thinking for a bit, the truth behind the words appealing to you for a sliver of a moment. before you could consider your next step; find an out or comply to the omnipresent man’s offering, a gunshot pierces your ears, and you let out a shriek so loud you swore all of panem could hear you.

you begin to wail again then, uncontrollably, screaming and begging for respite as your body gave in under the weight of itself; your knees buckling and falling harshly against the ground. you shake with the ferocity of a small rodent before you’re pulled up by your shoulders and engulfed into a familiar, warm hug. your eyes wide with panic, you thrash your head back in forth in an attempt to find the man who was tormenting you, only to see that he was now gone, and in his place, a small search party lead by a peacekeeper cheered in glory at the sight of you. relief washed over you as you looked up to find your father, falling into the safety of his arms as he escorted you out of the forest, giving a curt thank you to the peacekeeper and another man you recognized to be one of your fathers students, before dragging you to the comfort of your home.

౨ׅৎ

when your father found out the reason behind your being in the woods, you’d landed yourself a life of extra chores and punished to more frequent church visits until your father decided you had repent enough. your father, reassuring you of god's forgiveness as his child, warned that your actions wouldn't fade from memory. he emphasised the necessity of restoring your relationship with the lord and savior. you were under his constant watch, now. each morning, before dropping you off at school, he compelled you to pray fervently for protection over your family and yourself, urging you to plead for deliverance from the consequences of your actions.

with your increased presence in church taking up most of the time you had to yourself, you found yourself taking note of the other frequent church goers. your father, of course, and his dedicated student, were a constant in your peripheral vision. the old couple who lived only a few minutes away from you, mrs. harmon and her froofy, dirty church outfits, her boisterous children, and her grumbling husband. you noticed small things; like how the wife of the newly-wed couple in town had stopped wearing her wedding ring, and how her husband seemed to never give her a second look. how the twin boys in the grade below you suddenly surpassed you in height, and their younger sister now seemed to lack a certain innocence that was pertinent in her character before. you made a small promise to yourself to pray for her.

there was one person, however, who you were not familiar with, yet you could feel it in the deep ends of your bones that you knew exactly who he was. he had begun to appear only once a week, his shiny buzzcut and blue peacekeeper uniform sticking out sorely from the rest of the crowd. then, twice a week- then three- and then suddenly you found you could not escape from him. everywhere you turned, he was there. when you walked home from school, you would catch him patrolling somewhere nearby, or laughing and chatting with his peacekeeper friends. when you opened the church doors for mass, he would be first to walk in, handing you a small smile before making his way to sit in the pew farthest away from you. he was there, everywhere you looked, and it unsettled you greatly. there was a lack of sincerity in his eyes when he smiled, and for a moment you thought that it had seemed like hunger, but you pushed the idea away before your brain could process it. one night, when closing the church doors and heading to your home, the small sound of rapid footsteps triggered your fight or flight response, the latter winning. when the man rested his hand on your shoulder politely, handing you a handkerchief you had dropped, you felt a strange sense of deja vu. the speed at which it sounded he had ran towards you didn’t match how he stood before you now; breathing even, chest pushed out pridefully, his dark sapphire eyes never leaving yours. but you were so sure that the man had been sprinting, just like the man who had sprinted after you a few weeks ago had. you gave him a small thank you before speed-walking your way to the front door, panting heavily as you locked it shut behind you and your hand made its way back to the pendant on your neck, grasping it so tightly it hurt, the stipe digging into the soft flesh of your palms as a way of grounding yourself back to your senses.

that night, when you got on your knees to pray, you couldn’t shake the look on the mans face from your thoughts. his features themselves were even, lacking any sense of emotion, but his eyes troubled you the most. the way they bore into yours made you feel as if you would burst into flames right then. it made you feel as if there was something he wanted from you, but your poor innocent soul couldn’t figure out what. when you nestled yourself into your bed that same night, you vowed to stay as far away from him as possible.

you hadn't realised how hard that would be.

he approached you the next morning. it was saturday, and the usual gloomy weather of district 12 had been forced away and replaced with the harsh, bright sunlight. it shone spectacularly through the stained-glass windows, gracing the dark wood of each side aisle with vibrant reds and yellows and blues and brightening the deep red carpet that lay evenly along the nave. you stood behind the pulpit, readying your fathers sermons and homilies for that week's sabbath. he had barged in unannounced, making his way towards you slowly as you pretended to ignore the tall figure making its way down the red path.

“good morning, miss,” he spoke lowly towards you, peering upwards slightly as the pulpit was slightly taller than the rest of the church, and you pretended to read through the cards and flip through your bible as if it were you preparing to speak in a mere 15 minutes. he cleared his throat once, and you waved your hand nonchalantly towards the pews, “the preacher will be ready shortly. please, have a seat.”

from behind your fathers flashcards, you could see a small tick of his jaw and he pressed his lips together tightly, nodding slowly before making his way to his usual seat, feigning interest in the architecture of the building.

“its quite beautiful, no?”

you hummed.

“i wonder how the district could afford to pay for it.”

the comment caught you off guard, causing you too look up at him with scrunched brows, your lips parted in confusion. surely, he knew the capitol had paid for it- and even then, what did it matter? a sanctuary for god deserved only the best of resources, you thought. the beauty of the church was a reflection of the beauty of your religion, the intricacies and meticulous carpentry of the building spoke to one of the three transcendentals that point to god. of course, it would be beautiful.

before you could think of a response to the bizarre musing, your father burst in, pressing a light kiss to your cheek and thanking you kindly for preparing for him. the man stood up to make his way to greet the preacher, and you were out of sight as fast as lightning.

that cycle continued for a while. he would sit in the pews, admiring the architecture (when really, he was admiring you), then stand to greet your father enthusiastically, frowning ever so slightly when you disappeared the moment he made any closer to your father. eventually, you had become quite good at avoiding him. you saw him less in the markets, saw less of him in church, and rarely caught sight of him anywhere else. that was, until you found him at your doorstep one hot summer day.

you and your mother swore it was the hottest day to see district 12, and you sat on the porch in a small, lace trimmed top and cut-off jean shorts. your hair was carelessly tossed into an updo to relieve your neck of some heat, and you sat in your fathers old chair as you sipped on some juice your family had been given earlier that day.

you weren’t expecting any visitors that day, so it was safe to say you nearly choked when the man appeared from behind the path of thrush that hid your small home from sight of the church, dressed only in the blue dress pants of his peacekeeper uniform and a thin white shirt, silver dog tag swinging like a pendulum across his chest as he made his way towards you. your father had emerged delighted, mr. snow!, he cheered, patting the man- snow, what a fitting name- on his back and urging him inside. you scrambled to the backdoor and into the kitchen where your mother rest, the door slamming behind you loudly as you entered, causing her to jump.

“dear?”

“that man daddy’s talking to- who is he?”

she gave you a halfhearted shrug, “i wouldnt know, pumpkin, it’s probably business with your father. he goes to the church, no?”

you nodded, pacing back and forth, ignoring the crazed look your mother threw at you as you processed the information.

“do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil,” she reminded you, and your jaw dropped at the silent accusation she threw at you.

“absolutely not, mother!” you stormed back out the door, drowning your mother’s laughter out with frustrated mumbles of has she lost her mind? and what a woman! how she could ever think something about snow was tempting you was beyond your understanding. however, when you made it back to your chair and your watered down glass of juice, the sight of a shirtless ‘mr. snow’ and your, otherwise fully dressed, father in the garden, dripping sweat shamelessly into your mothers vegetable patch, a snap thought breached your mind that perhaps there was something tempting about the mysterious man.

that sent you into a frenzy. your knee bounced anxiously as you silently begged god to forgive you for the thought, and that it was simply intrusive, and not reflective of the morals and high grounds you held closely to your heart. nervously, you grabbed the book you had abandoned weeks ago and shoved your nose into the pages as if to distract yourself from your own brain and its wicked ministrations.

you weren't sure of how much time had passed, yet it felt like the man's stay was suspiciously short as he and your father made their way inside. you gave him a curt nod, and your father gave you a small lecture about manners, insisting that the two of you become accustomed to one another. and there you were, legs drawn up to your chest as if to protect yourself from the sinful looking man before you.

“my name is coriolanus snow,” he said. coriolanus. it was unlike any name you’d heard before. you returned the gesture softly, hoping that he would disappear behind your father into the house and you could breathe again, but he stayed and stared at you with that look, “your father tells me we’re the same age. he’s a nice man.”

you bit your lip at that. the same age? there was something about coriolanus that seemed older. it also begged the question: what was someone his age doing as a peacekeeper? you opened your mouth to pry at him, but he cut you off, stepping closer.

“tell me, dear, what sins weigh in your heart?”

you drew yourself back further into the safety of your chair, face laced with disgust as you tried as hard as possible to distance yourself from the imposing man now caging you into your confinement. his breath was heavy on your nose, and your heart pounded harshly- from what, you weren’t sure. fear? a sense of danger? temptation? his lips were so close to yours now, you could smell the faint scent of cologne that mingled with the saltiness of his sweat, and you tried your best to keep your breathing as even as possible, feigning indifference to his proximity to you poorly.

“i dont know what you mean, mr. snow.”

he smiled at that, laughing lowly. he didn’t expect you to know what he meant, of course, but he had an inkling that if he played his cards just right, he’d have you right where he wanted. he leaned closer now, lips dodging yours, lightly brushing your nose as his head turned to whisper in your ear.

“do you think of me at night? our little chase?”

“wh-what?”

“you’re smart, miss. think about it.”

he disappeared into the house, bidding goodbye to your mother and father and whisking himself away. your mouth remained parted, eyes wide with confusion as you tried to process what his words could have meant.

surely, he couldn’t mean..

no. absolutely not, you decided. coriolanus may have unsettled you ungreatly, but he was a peacekeeper- and your father had always told you that they served to protect you, that they would never harm you purposely. you stood shakily and made your way quietly into the old house, reeking of old wood and boiled vegetables. you sat on the couch near your brother, holding his head to your chest as you stroked his hair comfortingly, still trying to process. from the kitchen, your father called, “he’s a nice boy, no? perhaps he could be of some influence to you, sweetheart.”

you agreed meekly, despite disagreeing with your father completely. you werent entirely sure what he saw in the man at all, yet you were adamant that he was, in fact, not a good influence, but a parasite. you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. he made you feel unsafe- unsure of yourself, and for some reason, your faith. you decided he was no good; but yet you couldnt make any understanding of the bittersweet ache between your thighs.

when coriolanus walked home that evening, he couldn’t fight his smile. he saw you, in all his glory, struggling pathetically under his gaze, squirming and fidgeting uncontrollably as he trapped you within the cage of his arms.

the sacrificial lamb has been caught, he thought.

what a stupid, stupid lamb.

౨ׅৎ

you rushed into church near 5 am the next day, sleep deprived from the constant running of your mind and the damned words of coriolanus snow.

“our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” you repeated to yourself, kneeled below the large wooden crucifixion of jesus, hands clasped tightly together, your head resting painfully against the white of your knuckles.

what you were praying for, you didn’t know. you couldn't go to the confessional- heavens forbid, no. confessing secrets of your dreams of coriolanus’s hands, the outline of his jaw, the way he whispered his sinister words so sweetly into your ear- to your father? you would rather be hanged for the whole district to see. there was nothing sinful about your dreams, exactly, but it felt sinful, dirty, downright hellish. you thought of his lips, the soft and pink flesh of them, the stormy blue of his eyes- and, oh god, you couldn't stop replaying his words in your head.

‘do you think of me at night?’ he had asked you so earnestly. as if he needed you to tell him yes, you did think of him, every night. it wasn't a lie, of course, only the way you had begun thinking about him had changed. but that wasn't your doing at all, was it? no, he was to blame, for speaking to you like that, for dangling his dog tag so close that it brushed your cross indecently, for showing up to your house and stripping himself half naked, sweating impurely over the soil you and your mother sowed and reaped with love, with innocence, purity. it was entirely his fault, from the way he seemed to be forcing himself into your life. the church door creaked open, and you continued to pray, “give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

your heart raced as footsteps neared closer, as if you knew exactly who they belonged to.

“what troubles you, little lamb?” his voice took you with fear, the way it rumbled in his chest and reverberated on the walls confining the two of you, alone. you raised your head, refusing to look back at him, “i do believe that's none of your concern, mr. snow.”

you heard him chuckle lowly, repeating the words mr. snow to himself under his breath. it made you shiver, and you recited the bible verses your father drilled into your head from as young as you could remember: vindicate me, o god, and plead my cause against an ungodly nation; rescue me from deceitful and wicked men.

you could feel him now, knee pressed lightly against your back. you stood up and turned to face him, eyes wild and daring as they searched the azure maze of his own. his hand reached to stroke your hair, and you flinched.

“why is it that you fear me so much, do you think?”

“i’m not afraid of you.”

he tsked, “‘fear’ is different than ‘being afraid’, darling. to be afraid is a fleeting moment. your brain's immediate response towards danger,” he moved to touch your hair again, now more forcefully, tucking the loose strands along your hairline behind your ear.

keep back your servant also from willful sins.

he continued, “i asked, why do you fear me?”

you tried to search deeper into his eyes, trying to grasp any understanding at what he was trying to communicate to you. your mind ran amok, and it was no help that coriolanus's hand now snuck its way into your fingers, fidgeting with the soft digits mindlessly.

“i don't.. i don't know-” he cut you off by stepping closer before you finished. you had wanted to tell him that you didn't know why he thought you feared him, that you didnt understand the question, and that you needed to get home soon, so to please excuse you.

“i think you fear what i impose between you and your precious god.”

you let out an involuntary laugh, giggling childlishly at the accusation. you stopped, when his eyes darkened.

“i’m sorry, mr. snow, but i really don’t know what you mean!” you were struggling to contain your girlish giggles. what he imposes between me and god? it was such a bizarre statement, so plainly laid out for you, that you couldn’t even comprehend it entirely. your laughing ceased, for good now, when his hand circled tightly around your wrist.

let them not have dominion over me.

then i will be upright.

“i’m not stupid, love. i saw you, yesterday, practically drooling over me. i wonder what your father would have to say if he saw the sinful way you ogled at me,” he paused, and you swallowed painfully, “and dont tell me you’ve forgotten all about our little chase, hm? wasnt it exhilarating?” now, panic engulfed you. you tried to back away from him as the pieces etched themselves together in your brain, but his hold on your wrist was only getting tighter.

“that was you?” your voice was impossibly small, weak from the alarm that blared in your head. your eyes darted back and forth desperately, searching for an out, hoping and praying that someone might burst in and see the scene before you, tear hades away from his persephone and save her from her impending doom.

i will be blameless and innocent of great transgression.

he dipped his head to your neck, lips deliciously grazing over the supple skin of your collar bone, pressing kisses so light you could barely feel them as you tried to wriggle from his grasp.

“of course it was me, darling,” the way you felt him smile against your skin was chilling, and you fought back tears as he moved impossibly closer to you, “isn’t that adrenaline rush just addicting? tell me, dove, what do you think about me when you lie in bed and replay our precious little moments together in that pretty head of yours?”

your breathing quickened, and you winced as coriolanus gripped tighter at your wrist, his other hand painfully gripping the small of your waist, massaging the gentle muscle of it. you could feel his entire body pressed against yours, and a tear threatened to slip when you felt the hard pressing of his lower region on your stomach. you shook your head, refusing to give in to his line of questioning, but his grip on your waist tightened and you cried out in pain, “your hands!” you whined, relief slowly making its way to the sore area of your waist as he loosened his grip. he made to grasp your chin under his index, forcing you to keep eye contact with him and urged you silently to keep going.

“your..” you let out a shaky sigh, “your h-ands, your voice, the words you speak to me. i don't understand why.”

he cooed at you now, as if proud of you for speaking up. your eyes darted to his lips, and you saw something flash in his eyes, “anything else?”

let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight,

lord, my rock, and my redeemer.

you tried to look down at your feet as if to run away from the question, but his hold on your chin was unrelenting. shamefully, you whispered, “your lips.”

he let out a small ahhh, as if the admission shocked him. he knew, of course. of course he knew. you poor thing. sweet, little lamb, so innocent and pure. untouched by lust, blind to its deceptive allure. he knew from the moment he’d gone after you in those woods and failed to catch you, that he would do everything in his power to make sure you would never escape his grasp again. he knew when his frail attempts at getting closer to you failed, he had to resort to a harsher solution. he needed to infiltrate every space you breathed in, and break his was into your mind until he had you right where he needed you to be: malleable, so he could corrupt you just as easy.

he knew your father protected you, the extent to which he went to protect you, as well. banning sex education in your school, ensuring your mind stays as pure as possible to the exploits of fickle men and their wants. you knew the basics, thanks to your mother and her worrisome self, but her teachings were meddled down into some confusing allegory that left your mind as clueless as before, so that you stayed intact, perfect and pristine in the lords eye as well as the rest of the district, in your white frilly dresses, light makeup, and perfectly crafted manners.

he knew how easy it would be to get in your head. the human body is funny, like that, wherein it begs for things it doesn’t know of. he knew when he flexed his hands you caught sight of it, when he swallowed you intently watched the way his adams apple bobbed, he knew when he showed up to your home and stripped himself almost bare it would plague your mind with an unknowing want and desire, and soon enough, you’d have no choice but to give in to it, abandon your god and his lessons for coriolanus alone.

he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, swiping his thumb across yours as if to mirror himself, and then ducked his head closer, “go on.”

you squeezed your eyes shut. everything felt so, so wrong, and you didn't know why, but you couldn't stop. when he continued to toy with your lip, slightly plunging the tip of his finger past them and into your mouth, you let out an involuntary, small moan, and your legs shook and quivered as the strange ache from yesterday returned.

“wh-what?”

“kiss me.”

your eyes widened, and you shook your head. coriolanus thought it was adorable, how you struggled to piece together what was about to happen, how your brain tried desperately to fill in the blanks with information it didnt know. you heard coriolanus sigh disapprovingly at your protests and he shoved his thumb further into your mouth, causing you to choke. he removed it, then wiped the saliva that remained over your bottom lip before inserting the digit in his mouth, tasting you.

“its okay, little one. you can kiss me. he wont mind,” you didnt realize your fingers lingered over the necklace nestled on your chest, and your gaze followed his finger as he gestured upwards. he wont mind. you racked your brain over the things coriolanus said to you from he entered the church.

“i think you fear what i impose between you and your precious god.”

now, you truly hoped someone would burst in, and you could scream and wail as you explained the horrors coriolanus was about to commit to you (even if those horrors were unclear). he was so close, and something still pressed hardly against your stomach, and suddenly you couldn't breathe, “he would mind. i promise to pray for you coriolanus, i don't know what troubles you, but the lord-”

he cut you off by shoving his lips onto yours harshly, groaning at the contact. his hands made their way to rest on your clothed breasts, and you wriggled and struggled to try get away from him, but your efforts were fruitless. you were cornered, now. a lamb with nowhere to run or hide, forced to face its fate. he ravaged your lips, hands restless as they caressed all over your protesting body. the ache between your legs grew, and a small part of you realized that the last thing you wanted right now was for someone to walk in, and see the preacher's daughter being completely defaced by a peacekeeper.

“your god cant give me what i need, angel. cant you see? you did this to me,” his hand grabbed yours as he pulled away to speak, trailing it down the hard muscle of his abdomen and palming the hardness that threatened to burst through the seam of his pants. your eyes were wide and doe-like, and coriolanus never needed to fuck you more. his lips met yours again, and his other hand fumbled to remove his pants, hissing when the air hit his straining cock, all while you tried your best to distance yourself from him as much as possible. your face was hot, and your hands remained in the air, unsure of where to rest them, as you slowly allowed coriolanus to slip his tongue into your mouth.

“good girl,” he practically growled, and you let out a pathetic squeak when you felt your core tighten, pleasure washing over you at the small praise. coriolanus was turned on beyond conception, moaning disgracefully as he stroked himself through the fabric of his underwear. if you could see the spectacle the two of you were making, in the middle of church- no less, the thought alone had coriolanus close to the edge. you gasped when you saw him palm himself, and without thinking, your hand brushing his ever so slightly, lingering a second too long before his eyes snapped up at yours, pleading you to go ahead and touch him.

when you finally pressed your hand to his clothed region, you swore the way coriolanus threw his head back with a small mewl and moan would land you an eternity in hell alone.

“thats it, baby, jus’ like that.. keep going..” you gasped when his hand sneaked its way under your dress- your sunday best- your hand faltering a bit when his long middle finger lightly grazed your clothed cunt. the foreign feeling it elicited from you had you desperately searching coriolanus’s eyes for an answer, unable to speak as his fingers that toyed with the most intimate parts of you had you moaning softly and lowly, uncontrollably. you continued to palm him, and his hand slipped into the lacy cotton of your panties, cursing hotly under his breath when he feels you.

“so wet for me. you dirty fucking girl, look at you: making a mess in church.” you didnt know what he meant, but shame burned through your skin. confusion grappled at you and you began to sob, not ignoring the way your tears seemed to make coriolanus throb beneath you, “please stop, coriolanus, this is immoral.”

“baby, if it feels good, then it cant be bad,” he stroked the tear stains on your cheek softly, cupping your face with false earnest as he pulled your head to lay on his chest, “does it feel good?”

coriolanus reveled in the way you looked up at him, like a devoted follower in the arms of their saviour. when you nodded slowly, he gently spun you around and shoved your face into the cool wood of the crucifixion behind you, his hand painfully pushing against your cheek enough so that you couldn't look anywhere but above you, into the sad eyes of jesus.

your panties were ripped off with a shriek that was muffled by coriolanus’s hand around your mouth, and you sobbed as pain mixed with pleasure as he gave a few slaps to your dripping cunt, mumbling about how pretty it is. in a desperate attempt to wiggle out of your new position, you accidentally arched your back further, giving him more access.

“let me show you how i can love you,” he whispered into your ear, before returning his fingers to the slick mess that coated your cunt, your body jolting when they occasionally brushed over your clit, the unfamiliar sensation already too overwhelming for you to handle. with a few more agonising strokes of his fingers, he prodded at your hole, teasing your entrance in a way that had your eyes roll to the back of your head. when he finally slipped them in, your hand pounded desperately against the cross you were pressed up on, pleads to stop falling pathetically into the hand of coriolanus and onto deaf ears. he was merciless with it, greedily pounding his fingers into you in a way that had your knees gravitating towards each other and animalistic grunts of pleasure vibrating through his hand.

something in you burned, your body was pleading for more as an unfamiliar coil formed in the pit of your stomach. your hand continued to bang against the cross, tears falling as you forcibly peered into the eyes of your saviour while you got your cunt ravaged in the middle of his shrine.

“oh god, oh god” you mumbled through his hand. you were unsure if it was shame, or the delicious way coryo pumped his fingers into you, but you grew lightheaded and dumb, eyes hazy as you grew closer to your release.

“thats it, take it. you’re filthy, taking my fingers so well in the middle of church.” now, both hands scraped desperately against the cross, leaving marks in the wake of your fingernails digging into the hardwood. coriolanus tugged your head further up, forcing you to stare at him with tears streaming down your face and desperate pleas for him to stop going unheard. he smiled coyly when he felt your pussy clench around his fingers, and he withdrew them just before you reached your release, a loud, agonising whine of relief and desperation leaving your smushed lips. he was quick to replace his fingers with his cock, the slow intrusion of it making you let out a low, droned out groan as he stretched your virgin cunt past its limit.

he removed his hand from your mouth, and a string of prayers tumbled out of it, “o my god, i am heartily sorry for having offended thee,” and “and i detest all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend thee, my god, who art all good and deserving of all my love.” it earned you a slap to your ass, and you cried out loudly as coriolanus shoved your dress off of you, watching as it fell uselessly around your legs into a pool of white. he flipped you around, admiring your soft breasts and the way they spilled over in the hold of his fingers, and he traced the soft, plumpness of your belly as he chuckled lowly at your continuous prayer. with his cock still nestled into you, he leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

“god loves you, but not as much as i do,” and then he thrust his cock into you with such force that you nearly tumbled to the floor. his hand rest on your lower back, forcing you to arch closer to him, your hips meeting his unwillingly at his fast pace. coriolanus’s cock grazed the inside of your gummy walls perfectly, and you found yourself slipping from reality as he continued to pound his dick into you, moaning when you contracted around him without rhythm, your inexperienced self almost overloaded with pleasure, unable to control your body.

“you’re being such a good girl, taking my cock like this,” he weaved a hand through your hair, “‘n you’re gonna let me cum inside you, yeah? gonna make a woman out of you.” you couldnt focus on the words he was throwing at you, lost in pleasure as the tip of coryo’s dick hit that one spot over and over again. the way he spoke to you had you at a crossroads, and it didnt help that he was fucking you into oblivion, and now you understood what he had meant when he said he imposed between you and god, because you were becoming addicted to the push and pull of his cock inside of you.

“thats right, take it. you look so pretty all dumb and fucked out on my cock,” you reached to grab his arm to steady yourself, your orgasm creeping in closely, “you gonna cum for me?”

you didn't know what it meant, but you nodded anyways, completely lost in bliss, “coryo..” you moaned out, his brows raising slightly at the new nickname, a smirk settling on his face. moans and mewls lewdly left your mouth as he quickened his pace, his unused hand massaging at your tits, twisting and pinching softly at your nipples as you thrashed with pleasure under him.

“gonna make you worship this fucking cock, baby” he was close himself now, his head falling and his voice itching up an octave, lewd moans clashing with yours as the rhythm and pace he set began to falter, and he fucked you as hard as he could as he chased your high and his own, “gonna make you devoted to me. you’re never gonna wanna be away from me again,” his face twisted with pleasure, and you circled your arms around his neck as you tried to ground yourself, the coil in your stomach slowly beginning to unravel and threatening to snap. a shadow passed, and your eyes widened with terror as you slapped coryo’s arm haphazardly, begs falling from your mouth to stop. he turned his head lazily to look at what you were whining about, but his thrusts didn't stop.

“let them see what a dirty fucking girl you are.”

your walls tightened and your eyes rolled so far back into your head you were scared they wouldn't come back up as your orgasm reached you. you covered your mouth, shrieking desperately as the shockwaves of pleasure rolled over you, the newfound feeling unrelenting as it took over every part of your body. coriolanus repeated words of encouragement and praise as he fucked you through your high, before bottoming out and releasing his load in you, christening your walls. you whined at the feeling, so full and drunk off of it that your concerns of the passerby faded. the both of you stood there, panting heavily, both groaning when coryo slid out of you. he slapped his tip on your puffy clit one, two, three times, before a loud knock rapped on the church door.

you could feel coriolanus’s spill leaking out of you as you crouched on your knees, hidden, and you cried silently, the reality of what had just happened to you settling in. coriolanus snow had corrupted you, in the worst possible way, and now you could only feel yourself crave more of him. as he spoke to the intruder, egging them to run along, a thumb caressed your head gently, as if to tell you he had everything under control. the small southern drawl he’d begun to pick up was more prominent. when the intruder finally left, you were forced to your feet, and coriolanus grabbed your ruined panties, resting on his knees below you to shove them into your used cunt, before making his way back to his feet, towering over you. he spoke to you like he would if he were on duty:

“you go on home now, miss. and tell your father i say hello.”

and you did.

౨ׅৎ

@dumbsoftheart, 2023

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow smut #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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masschase · 5 months

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for the ship ask meme; Kiley and Calix (Kinzie x Riley), (Calista x Alix)

pre - 2 for both Kiley and Calix

gen - 2 for Kiley, 7 for Calix

love - 5 for Kiley, 9 for Calix

domestic - 6 for Kiley, 2 for Calix

Ship asks! (feel free to keep sending, I really like this one)

Ooh plenty here to work with thank you! 😊 I'm going to arrange by ship if that's OK!

So because I don't often post about these on tumblr; Riley is kind of a joint OC that I ship with Kinzie's hc of well... Kinzie, for RP. I can see her working with canon Kinzie too though! And Alix is my OC that I ship with Kinzie's OC Calista.

Kiley (Kinzie x Riley)

Pre-relationship 2: What was their first impression of each other?

So they actually had a really brief first meeting back in 2016 years before they meet "properly" which is in 2022 and not yet fully decided on. Riley was a fairly young doctor at the time and was brought to the big 4th July party(that's a huge part of Casey's rise to President and very important to the overall Out Of Time storyline) by the slightly slimy hospital owner more or less looking for arm candy.

When Oleg and Kinzie call out for a doctor for Matt(from the future, relevant), who has been shot, Riley responds and comes outside with them. However by the time they do so, Matt has been jumped back to the future to access Zin medical care, so she ends up more or less just checking if Casey is OK and then leaving.

She and Kinzie probably don't think much of each other at that time. I think we talked about Kinzie having some sort of odd feeling about Riley but shrugs it off because she has odd feelings about a lot of things, lol. I think later if they connect the dots it would be so intriguing to them both though to remember that! That they interacted in this small way because Kinzie just needed someone and Riley was there, and now she always will be.

General 2: Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

I'd like if their official first date was at Roasted because we've had them meet up there in a specific setting before, but for the canon/Countdown universe, they could still time jump there. I think it's very chill which suits them both as they're both naturally kind of tense and it would relax them. Just gives them a chance to unwind and it's not too overwhelming for Kinzie in social terms because it doesn't tend to get too busy on a weekday, when they'd likely go.

Love 5: Who’s better at comforting the other?

Going with your hcs, definitely Riley comforting Kinzie, I think that's one of the main reasons Kinzie likes her so much actually is that she takes care of her. But I think the same would be true of canon because canon Kinzie definitely isn't very comforting! Riley can be abrupt when it comes to work but she's sweet when it comes to her personal life.

Domestic 6: Who kills the bugs in the house?

I feel like Kinzie would not do much about any bugs so definitely Riley. She's a doctor so values cleanliness and finds them really off-putting. So while she might release some humanely, she would want them dealt with as quickly as possible and sometimes that might mean killing them.

Calix (Calista and Alix)

Pre-relationship 2: What was their first impression of each other?

I think Alix was immediately taken by Callie's apperance; xe thought they were really beautiful and also liked their legs in the fishnets. From Callie's end they thought Alix looked really cool and liked xir rainbow hair. You'd be best to add if there's anything else they thought 😊

General 7: Who takes the lead in social situations?

I think while they're both fairly confident, I would imagine Calista would be a little more chill and go with the flow whereas Alix might be a little more decisive. Neither is really a wallflower though so it probably alternates!

Love 9: What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

Alix calls Calista "darlin'" most of the time, I think they call xem "babe" in return, and then Callie and Allie 😊 obviously Calista already gets called Callie before meeting Alix but Alix never really went by Allie before but xe finds that really cute that Calista calls them that.

Domestic 2: What's the wedding like? Who attends?

All the Saints would be invited from Callie's side, and from Alix's there would definitely be a lot of other farmers because unlike on earth, Alix probably works with a large team on Ragnarok as they would all be really important to setting up sustainable food sources. I'm not sure if either has any surviving family after the Earth's destruction; Alix has a strained relationship with xir parents but does love them so would invite them if they were alive.

As for the wedding itself I imagine they'd want something a little less traditional than Pierhys and Mass using the (3rd) rebuilt Saints church. In fact I think they'd maybe overdo the quirkiness of it to the point it'd be annoying for everyone else but they don't really give a shit, it's their day. 😆

Calista would probably want something dramatic and gothic venue-wise whereas Alix would probably want to get married in the middle of a field or something so I feel like a great compromise would maybe be a forest? We know there are forests on Ragnarok so it makes sense. I think Kinzie would play a pretty major role given she's Callie's best friend.

A ceremony in the middle of the trees with fairy lights strung all over the canopies and vows they both wrote. Since they're non-binary and agender they wouldn't really want anything with husband/wife connotations so again nothing resembling "traditional" vows. Instead of exchanging rings they have stencils of each others' first initials printed onto their ring fingers ready to have them tattooed before the photos. They sign the marriage document(Emperor Casey has rules people!) on each others backs.

They have a marquee for the reception but it looks more like a giant black bell tent with rainbow drapes all around. I'm not sure what they'd have food wise. Maybe they could have chocolate peanut butter cupcakes as their wedding cake.

#kinzie kensington #sr oc: riley fox #sr oc: calista #sr oc: alix thorne #kiley #calix #canon x oc #oc x oc #asks #thank you! :)#ship asks #saints row

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snail-eggs · 1 year

Text

this but xixi and johnny

#tell me you see the vision #ship: xixi x johnny #don’t mind me saints row posting after weeks of practically neglecting the fandom lmaoo

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hauntedwitch04 · 5 months

Text

Fallen angel

Priest!Remus Lupin x reader

Words: about 1.8k words

Warnings: smut, corruption kink, swearing, kinda voyeurism, not proofreaded

Author’s note: Hi loves! New day new kink, hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 14: Innocence

Remus knows it is wrong, but sinning has never been sweeter.

You came for Mass as you did every Sunday, together with your family. Remus always took a few minutes to look at you as you sat in the front row, in your usual cream and powder-pink dress, your little white shoes and the pink headband in your hair. If he hadn't known better, the young priest would certainly have thought you were an angel.

Throughout the mass he tried never to look at you, knowing that he would then have to hide a very obvious erection that would be very difficult to explain.

You are his forbidden dream and his most terrible perversion.You, with your air so graceful and your soul so good, were the one who would make even a saint sin, and Remus is convinced of this. There is no mortal soul according to him who would not think of your lips, your breasts, your legs in a sinful way.

Once the sacred service was over and the faithful were greeted, Remus headed for the confessional, knowing that a couple of people would be coming in seeking absolution. Usually he was not the one to hear confessions, but Father James, who, however, due to commitments could not do so today, so he had asked Remus to do so. At that thought he could not help but smile, thinking how he could ever grant absolution, when at night she often dreamed of you, as he fucked you, as you lay naked on top of the church altar.

Remus has been sitting in the confessional for a while, listening to people's sins and assuring them that God would forgive them if they showed a willingness to absolve themselves, when he decides to leave since there are other things to do and it has been several minutes since anyone came in after the last one who had come in, a man who had cheated on his wife with his sister.

The moment he is about to leave that cramped space, however, he hears your voice caressing the air.

"Father James, I should confess." You say in a voice slightly louder than a whisper.

Remus knows it is wrong the shiver that runs down his spine as he feels the sensation of desire growing inside him. He sits back as he wonders whether to tell the truth or to lie and pretend to be his friend, knowing that this would only be the beginning of the series of sins he would be thinking and doing, moments from now, imagining you kneeling beside him.

"Go ahead my child." Whispers the young priest as he imitates his colleague's voice.

"Father, I have sinned. The devil has taken me by the hand and led me down an evil road." You comment as you wring your hands.

"What have you ever done that is so terrible? You are an angel on earth, you cannot disappoint the Lord." Remus comments, as he feels his pants getting tighter and tighter, in imagining your lips inches away from his lap, separated only by a thin perforated wooden panel.

"I've been thinking about so many wrong things." You pause for a moment and then ask a question. "Father, if I tell you, you will never tell anyone right?"

"Of course angel, no one but me, you and Our Lord will ever know what you are going to tell me." Remus says, trying to reassure you; you nod and go on.

"Father, the other night I had a dream-a sex dream. I was-I was with this boy and he was touching my whole body, then his hands stopped...right there." You say, and Remus immediately closes his eyes, throwing his head back, praying himself not to come at that same moment in his pants.

"It was probably all because of that movie my friend showed me where there's a sex scene, since I've never been intimately with any man, but here's that's not the worst part."

"Oh no?" Remus asks, instinctively, as he feels his self-control slipping through his fingers as he puts his hand on the button that fastens his pants.

"No, because then when I woke up...here I didn't really know what I was doing, but I felt that I was very wet in my underwear and I didn't understand why."

"God child, what have you done?" Remus comments under his breath, not thinking you could hear him as he pulls his cock out of his pants and begins to massage it, since by now the erection was becoming too painful.

"Yes father, I know I sinned a lot, I know because then I did something I'm very ashamed of. I touched myself down there, and-and I think I gave myself pleasure." You confess, your voice almost on the verge of tears. Remus tightens his hand around your cock as he takes a deep breath and stops his movements, knowing that if he continued he would come in seconds.

"What exactly did you do my dear? How did you touch yourself?" Remus asks in a rough voice as he hears you fidgeting on the other side of the grate.

"But Father, I would sin one more time if I repeated it out loud." You comment frightened, as you feel your white panties getting wet again, under the pink skirt you wear.

"No my child. God, and I, need to know what exactly you have done, to absolve your sins, of course." You try to explain Remus convincingly. A few seconds of stalemate pass before you respond.

"You are right Father, I am so foolish. I'll tell you what I did then." You say, in a tone of conviction, before being interrupted again by the young priest.

"I think though if you just told it you might forget some things, and we definitely don't want something like that to happen right?"

"No Father, absolutely not. What do you recommend I do then?" You ask eager to please the priest.

"Why don't you try to do again what you did that night, too. Try touching yourself the same way you gave yourself pleasure as you tell me about it, try thinking about who you were thinking about that night as you came on your fingers." Remus says, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as hesitantly a hand immediately goes to the hem of your skirt. You spend a few seconds assessing the situation and then decide to do as Father advises, so you bring your right hand inside your white panties, and with one finger you brush your pussy, feeling how wet it is. This slight gesture of yours makes you moan, and Remus can't help but imagine you under him as you make all those lovely sounds.

"That's right, keep touching yourself while you tell me how you sinned bimbo." Remus says, taking his erection back in his right hand as some pre-cum slides from the tip to the base. The sensitive tip of his cock feels the drafts of air coming in through the small door in front of him, and he can't help but think those are the correspondence of your labored breathing.

"I put my hand in my panties, and with my middle finger I began to caress my..."

"Say it my child, don't be ashamed, it's more than natural."

"About my pussy. Slowly I started to move my finger around, to see if it really feels as much pleasure as it said in the movie, and that's how I found out that it does, but it takes time. Then after a few minutes of touching her, I tried to stick a finger inside."

"Did you like it?"

"Not so much at first, then after a few times I was going back and forth, like he did in the movie, I started to like him a lot, however I couldn't get to the pleasure." You continue, while touching yourself in the same way you are telling it, however the pleasure this time comes much faster than the first time, as you already feel on the verge of orgasm.

"And how did you get to orgasm baby?" Remus asks, as he knows he too is getting closer and closer to reaching the pinnacle of pleasure.

"I imagined it was someone else doing those things on me." You confess shyly between moans. Your hand is completely wet, and your fingers are also cramping, but you don't care.

"And who were you thinking of?"

"To Father Remus. "You whisper in a low voice as a wave of embarrassment washes over you. "Father James please absolve me, please remove this stain from my soul, I cannot live knowing I will end up in the clutches of Mephistopheles." You pray as your fingers quicken.

"Cum. And I will absolve you my child, come now my little fallen angel." Remus says, before coming himself with powerful spurts, in his own hand, as he imagines you convulsing after your orgasm, your plump lips wide open as you moan and your sinful chest poking out of your dress.

At the same time you come around your fingers, moaning and rolling your eyes in pleasure as you feel every muscle in your body contract and relax without you having control over anything.

"Father am I absolved?" You ask with bated breath, as you adjust your skirt, and try to make yourself presentable again. Remus struggles to catch his breath too, especially as he thinks back to the final confession you made: you think of him when you have to give yourself pleasure.

Part of him would like to console you by saying that he is not just thinking about the other person to get to orgasm, but knowing that this is not the case, he decides to adopt another technique.

"Of course my dear, no sin stains your candid soul anymore, just a piece of advice. Just the next one I advise you to go and report these kinds of sins and problems directly to Father Remus, he is a very open-minded man who specializes in the kind of problem you have child."

"What is my problem, Father?" You ask fearfully.

"I think it's really a sex demon, angel." At Remus's words you wince, but he immediately heartens you. "Don't worry baby, he's very good and will know how to help you, but it's important that you don't tell anyone about your condition, okay?"

"Of course Father James, thank you for the advice, I will go right away and talk to Father Remus tomorrow."

"Good, very good my sweet fallen angel." He says, before saying goodbye and hearing you leave.

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itsbackwoodsbby · 9 months

Text

His Favorite

Trevante Rhodes x Black Fem Reader

Warning: Religion! Recreational Drinking! Smut! Protected Sex! Stripper!

Summary: Trevante's favorite stripper is out of work for a while and has no one as a replacement. You decide that you want to be his favorite. Not just for the night. His forever replacement.

Sunday, he’s always in the church. In the front row, he is watching his dad preach about how wonderful God is. But even saints need to let loose and be wild. On the weekdays and Saturdays, you can catch him at Pink Paradise, the best strip club in the city. He comes in and gives a few dancers money, and once he gets hungry, he’ll go to the bar and order something. When his army friends come with him, he orders hot lemon pepper wings and Hennesy. He orders a small appetizer and a soft drink when he's by himself. Depending on whether his favorite chef is in the kitchen, which is a rare occasion, he’ll order shrimp and fries with lemon on the side.

Then he’ll come to find his favorite dancer to get a lap dance from. She’ll take him to the back and give him the dance of his life. When he pays extra, she opens her throat for him. It’s not the best, but what is a recently honorable discharged army man with no wife supposed to do?

It’s Sunday, you sit down in the church, running a tad bit late. You had a late shift last night, but you’ll be damned if you missed church. You see him in the front as usual as you listen to the pastor talk about how God will make a way out of no way. Then, it shifts to him congratulating and thanking his son for his time in the service. He then calls him up to stand next to him.

“Trevante, son. I love you. I’m so proud of your accomplishments in the service. God has blessed you and worked on you. Because you know you used to be a handful. Boy, you used to give me hell.” Pastor Rhodes says. Everyone laughs at that comment. “But you grew up an amazing strong-minded, young man. You know how to stir away from temptations because the army gave you a new mindset.”

The statement makes you giggle. Stir away? Please! It’s Praise Pussy Sunday tonight at Pink Paradise and you know you’ll see him tonight. And his favorite dancer is out with the flu, so you’re going to be his replacement tonight. Hopefully, you just be his new favorite forever.

Around 9 pm, you get ready to go to work. You shower and put on something comfortable and easy to take off so you can put on your work outfit. You pack your work bag with two extra outfits, lotions, perfume, wipes, two mini bottles of Crown Royal, makeup, deodorant, and gum. You head to your pole room, grab your money bag, and empty out the cash from Saturday night. You quickly count it and you see you made $659 that night.

You go to your car and you head to Pink Paradise. You look in the parking lot to see if you see Trevante’s car. You know he's here when you see that black 2023 Corvette with the top down. You walk inside the club. It��s packed as usual on Praise Pussy Sunday. You see the girls in outfits. Some of them dressed as nuns, priests, and other sexy holy things. You go to the locker room. As you maneuver through semi-naked women and bare-naked women, you can hear that Trevante is the talk of the room. You can hear the other girls murmur amongst themselves. “Yo, Kream is gone. And I saw Trevante in the crowd tonight. I love Kream, but I want Trevante to myself. You don’t say anything, you just get dressed. If you say anything about wanting Trevante, the girls will eat you up. You recently started stripping, so they call you a baby stripper. It’s best to stay silent, but you have to prove that you have more experience than an actual baby stripper. As you do your makeup, you take one of the bottles of Crown Royal to calm your nerves down. The club’s atmosphere usually is laidback, but you have to know what you’re doing. If you don’t, you’ll barely get anything and it’s very hard to come back after making a fool of yourself. One by one, the girls dance and you patiently wait until your turn. You have a special performance under your sleeve.

You peek out the curtain to observe the room. It is sort of blurry from the haze of people smoking weed. You look around until you spot Trevante. He is talking to his friends in a booth, fucking up those hot lemon pepper wings. You keep that spot in your mind for your performance. As To My Bed by Chris Brown comes on, you feel the crowd's laughing and talking fade in the background as the lights dim. You walk out slowly and sway your hips to the melody. Everyone is focusing on your body, but your main focus is just to get his eyes on you and it is clear he is just as entranced by you. Your movements are slow and sensual, but you feel no shyness on stage.

You are a natural at this. Your hips grind to the song, slowly making their way towards him, watching him react to each move. You reach the pole, tracing a circle around its base. The beat drops, and you take hold of the pole and begin to slide down it slowly. You swayed your hips in a slow circle, teasing the crowd but keeping the focus on Trevante. As you slide down the pole, you lean forward and let your body rest against it, teasing your body shape just enough to create the desired effect. The crowd yelled out their approval, but you couldn't keep your eyes off the one man in the booth. Everyone is throwing money and your other dancing peers are shocked that you have this talent in you.

After your dance, you go into the locker room and use your baby wipes to get the sweat. The girls are hyping you up as you’re changing into your second outfit for the night. After that, you walk around the club. Customers are giving you tips and complimenting you. You go to the bar to get a drink and you’re about to pay when Trevante stops you and says he will pay instead. He smiles at you and you see he is wearing his grillz. You almost faint as you look at the shine. You would honestly let him take you down right now in front of these people, but you have to have some decorum. You two sit at the bar.

“Can I get what the lady got?” He asks the bartender, who starts making the drink again. You take a baby sip of the drink. “Thank you for paying,” You smile at him. “You’re welcome. You were amazing.” He says to you biting his lips. “I ain’t never seen you before. You must have recently started working here.” He asks you. “Yeah. I started working here a few weeks ago.” You smile. “Thanks, I try when it comes to dancing.” You say, trying not to sound too cocky, but you are proud of yourself. “Say, do you know where Kream is?” He asks you with a curious look on his face. “Oh, she is going to be out for a few. But, I can always help with your Pink Paradise needs.” You smile at him. He smirks, “Oh, a newbie can help me? He laughs at your smile drops from your face when you hear the word, newbie. “I’m just playing. Show me what you got.”

You take his hand and walk him to the back. As you’re walking back there, some of the bitter girls are mad. They try to stop you from giving him a dance. “Trevante, what about Kream? She wouldn't like that her replacement is a baby stripper.” They say to him, but he doesn’t care.

When you get in the room, you lock the room. The lights in the room are a low-light purple and the floor has a white fur rug. He sits on the couch and looks at your body some more, loving your curves and that ass behind you. You walk to him and start giving him a lap dance. Sitting on his lap, grinding your hips, teasing him as if you are about to kiss him, and kissing his neck. You stand up and get behind him. You rub up and down his chest. You see he is getting stiff in his pants. You smile and look at him.

“I can’t be doing bad for a newbie.” You smirk at him, as you get back on top of him and rock your hips on him. “Not at all.” He grunts lowly and starts feeling your body. “Do you do more?” He asks you. You eye him as you continue dancing, “As in?” He smiles, “Do you give head? Sex?” You smile at him, “Yeah, but it’s extra.”

Trevante didn’t care. Honestly, he needed something new. Kream is okay, but he needs better. And you are probably letting him fuck you. It is a win-win for him to have a new favorite.

He pulls his boxers and jeans down and his semi-hard dick is staring at you. You get on your knees and waste no time and take his whole dick in your mouth. You start bobbing your head down his dick and you feel his hand travel to your head. He guides your head down his shaft. You look up and see his mouth is hanging open, licking his grillz. You then begin to feel his grip on your hair tightly and start getting rough hitting the back of your throat. You gag a bit, but you take it like a champ. You come down and start sucking on his balls as you stroke his shaft.

“Shit, you damn sure can suck dick better Kream, that’s for sure.” He mumbles under his breath, biting his lips as you come back up and resume sucking his dick.”Yeah, suck this dick.” He throws his head back on the couch and places his hand back on your head. He pushes your head down further as he begins to twitch in your mouth. This tempts you to suck him faster. He closes his eyes and he nuts in your mouth. You swallow it and your mouth slowly comes off his dick.

“Damn.” He tries to catch his breath. You giggle at him. “Did I do okay?” He looks at you, “You did better than okay. Damn.” He repeats making you laugh. “You know, you can always do more.” You smile at him. He looks at you, “You playing?” You shake your head at him, “No, I’m not playing.” You give him a slow strip tease and he looks at your bare naked body. He pulls you to him and smacks your ass. “Damn, your body is so perfect, baby girl.” You smile at the compliment, “Thank you.” He hovers over you, and you look at him, “So where do you want me?” You ask him. “On the floor.”

You lay on the floor and the next thing you know your legs are in the air and he’s eating you out with his grillz on. You feel yourself sinking into the floor, gripping his head. His tongue swirls around with your clit. He pulls your legs on his shoulders and shakes his head in between. “Trevante, fuck.” You moan out and start caressing your breast.

Your legs stay on his shoulders, but you feel something teasing your clit. It slides up and down and once it’s at your entrance, he pushes all of his dick inside you. You grip onto the floor as he stretches your pussy out. He is generous enough to let you adjust to his big size. Once you are comfortable, he starts deep stroking inside you. Even though you don't necessarily have to be quiet because of the loud music, you still try not to be loud. You bite your lip and look into his eyes. Mistake. This makes him fuck you even more while looking deep in your eyes. He folds your legs up to your ears and goes deeper inside you, making his curve tease your spot.

“Deeper! Deeper!” You cry out. He smiles and begins hitting your spot. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You couldn’t believe that the preacher’s son is fucking you like this. “Aye, mamas, look at it.” He groans out. You bite your lips as you watch his dick go in and out of you. Then he starts pounding and gripping your neck. Your eyes close as your body gets tingling from being close to your climax.

“Mm, is my new favorite going to cum for me?” He teases you but confirms you’re his new favorite at Pink Paradise. You nod your head yes. He pops your thigh, causing you to gasp and exhale your moan out slowly, “Yes, yes. I’m going to cum for you. Shit.” You cuss under your breath.

He holds your stomach down and goes deeper. You squeal as you cum on his dick. He keeps going until eventually he slows down and cums. You whine as he pulls out. He falls back on the floor as well. You two lay and stare at the ceiling as his phone goes off multiple times and one of the other girls is banging to get in the room. You sigh and giggle.

“That was so amazing.” You admit to him. He smiles. “Yeah, it was.” You two catch your breath and he looks at his phone and laughs. You look at him, “What’s funny?” You ask, being curious. He shows you his phone. His homeboys are blowing him up.

“Yooo, T? Where you at nigga?”

“Trevante, if your ass is not out here in 3 seconds, you paying this bill.”

“Man, nigga is you getting some pussy? Ain’t no way you still in the back room now.”

You laugh, “Well, we should probably hurry up and get you back to your friends.” He nods as he takes the condom off and the two of you get dressed. He looks at you and bites his lip. “Say, can I get your number? This normally ain’t like me. But … it’s something about you.” You smile and look down, “Yeah, you can.”You put your number in his phone and in return, he pays you for your services. He gives you close to $1,000. You smile and thank him for the money.

You are pretty exhausted from fucking, so you decide to go home. You go to the locker room and receive a few dirty looks, because you got Trevante all to yourself. The rest of the girls are hyping you up. You smile and thank them. You get dressed, head back to your house, and instantly run in the shower to wash the sex off your body. Afterward, you lotion up, put your pajamas on, and begin counting up your money tonight. You made $1256. You finally made four-digit money. You smile and go to your bed and lie on your silk sheets. Your phone dings. It’s an unknown number. You look at the message.

“Hope you sleep well tonight. Definitely my new favorite lol.”

With another solid confirmation like that, you smile and sleep like a baby.

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