#Sleeve and Tray Boxes

[creativeboxesblog]

Custom Sleeve and Tray Boxes: The Ultimate Packaging Solution

Custom sleeve and tray boxes have two main components: a tray and a sleeve. The tray holds the product securely, while the sleeve slides over the tray, providing an additional layer of protection and a canvas for branding and design.

For more details visit us: https://scruern-gneaurd-spoiv.yolasite.com/

[lykaglobal-07]

Sustainable Packaging Solutions for Food, Medical, Fruits and Consumer Products - Lyka Global

 In recent years, there has been a growing global concern about the environmental impact of packaging waste, particularly in industries such as food, medical, and consumer products. As a result, businesses are increasingly looking for Sustainable Packaging Solutions that minimize their ecological footprint while maintaining product quality and safety. One company that has emerged as a leader in sustainable packaging is Lyka Global. In this blog post, we will explore the innovative sustainable packaging solutions offered by Lyka Global and how they are revolutionizing the industry.

The Importance of Sustainable Packaging:

Sustainable packaging plays a vital role in reducing environmental damage caused by excessive waste generation. By opting for eco-friendly materials and manufacturing processes, businesses can contribute to a circular economy and protect the planet for future generations. Lyka Global understands this urgency and offers a range of sustainable packaging solutions that address the specific needs of the food, medical, and consumer product sectors.

Lyka Global’s Commitment to Sustainability:

Lyka Global is a pioneering company dedicated to providing sustainable packaging solutions without compromising quality or performance. They prioritize the use of renewable and recyclable materials, reducing energy consumption, and minimizing waste throughout their production processes. By adopting a comprehensive sustainability strategy, Lyka Global sets an example for other industry players to follow.

Sustainable Packaging for Food Products:

When it comes to food packaging, Lyka Global offers innovative solutions that keep products fresh, extend shelf life, and reduce food waste. They utilize compostable and biodegradable materials made from renewable resources, such as plant-based films and compostable trays. These materials not only provide excellent barrier properties to protect against moisture, oxygen, and contaminants but also minimize the environmental impact when disposed of.

Sustainable Packaging for Medical Products:

Lyka Global understands the critical nature of packaging for medical products, where safety, sterility, and compliance are paramount. They have developed sustainable packaging solutions that meet stringent industry regulations while minimizing environmental impact. From eco-friendly blister packs made from recycled plastics to bio-based medical pouches, Lyka Global offers sustainable options that ensure the protection and integrity of medical products while reducing plastic waste.

Sustainable Packaging for Consumer Products:

In the realm of consumer products, Lyka Global offers sustainable packaging options that combine functionality, aesthetics, and eco-friendliness. They work closely with clients to develop packaging solutions that reflect their brand identity while adhering to sustainable principles. From recyclable cardboard boxes to biodegradable product labels and innovative refillable containers, Lyka Global empowers businesses to package their products responsibly.

Lyka Global’s Collaborative Approach:

Lyka Global believes in collaborative partnerships with their clients, suppliers, and industry stakeholders to drive sustainable change collectively. They actively engage in research and development efforts to identify and implement cutting-edge sustainable packaging solutions. By fostering open communication and collaboration, Lyka Global ensures that their clients’ specific requirements are met while striving for continuous improvement in sustainability practices.

Conclusion:

In the face of increasing environmental concerns, Lyka Global stands out as a leader in providing sustainable High Quality Packaging solutions for the food, medical, Fruits and consumer product industries. Their commitment to eco-friendly materials, innovative designs, and collaborative partnerships positions them at the forefront of sustainable packaging innovation. By choosing Lyka Global’s solutions, businesses can not only reduce their environmental footprint but also showcase their dedication to sustainability and responsible business practices. Together, we can create a more sustainable future for packaging and protect the planet we call home.

[solxamber]

Prologue: A Day Like No Other

This is the prologue for the 1k Event! It'll split into routes from here!

1k Masterlist

When you woke up that morning, you expected an ordinary day—classes, Grim stealing food from your tray, and maybe an explosion or two courtesy of Ace and Deuce. What you didn’t expect was for nearly every boy in the entire school to suddenly decide, out of nowhere, that they wanted to ask you out.

Riddle Rosehearts

He corners you right after class, red as a lobster, clutching a rulebook in one hand like it’s his lifeline. "I… I thought you might like to attend a formal tea ceremony with me this weekend. You have excellent posture, and I believe we would engage in delightful conversation."

He clears his throat and adjusts his collar. "Of course, I’ll have a list of acceptable topics for us to discuss."

You stare at him. He's shaking slightly.

"...Is this a date?"

His ears turn crimson. "It is not—" He exhales deeply. "Yes, it is. Please say yes."

Trey Clover

Trey smiles warmly as he approaches you after club activities. "Hey, I made a batch of tarts, and I thought we could eat them together. Just us. I mean... It’d be nice to spend time with you. Alone."

He rubs the back of his neck, trying not to look embarrassed. "And if you’d like, I could teach you how to bake something... Maybe, uh, something sweet?"

Cater Diamond

Cater pops out of nowhere, phone already in hand and pointed at you. "Yooo! Wanna go on a date with me? We could take tons of selfies, make Vil jealous, and trend under #CoupleGoals."

You blink at him.

"And hey," he adds with a wink, "if we get along, maybe I’ll tag you in my socials. Exclusive content, you know?"

Ace Trappola

"Okay, look," Ace says, leaning casually against the wall. "I’m not saying you should pick me over, like, Leona or Malleus or whoever—but I’m way more fun than those guys. C’mon, let’s go out. I’ll buy you ice cream. Two scoops."

He wiggles his eyebrows. "You know you want to."

Deuce Spade

Deuce looks nervous but determined, like he’s psyching himself up for a boxing match. "I—I know I’m not the smoothest guy around, but I really like spending time with you! And if you’ll go out with me, I promise I’ll… I’ll be a perfect gentleman. Or at least, uh, I’ll try to be."

Leona Kingscholar

Leona, as usual, doesn’t even try to sugarcoat it. "Come nap with me."

"Is that your idea of a date?"

He shrugs. "You don’t seem like the type to want fancy dinners. This is less effort. Plus, I sleep better when you’re there."

Ruggie Bucchi

"Heyyyy," Ruggie grins, tugging on your sleeve. "How ‘bout you and me hit the town? I know a place that gives out free meals if you pretend to be engaged. C’mon, it’ll be fun!"

Jack Howl

Jack frowns, clearly struggling with the words. "I’m not great at this stuff, but... If you want, we could run together sometime? Or, uh, go on a walk?"

He glances away, ears twitching. "It’d be nice. With you."

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul adjusts his glasses, smiling like he’s just sealed the most important business deal of his life. "It would be an honor to escort you to a dinner at Mostro Lounge. Of course, all expenses will be covered. Consider it... an exclusive arrangement."

Jade Leech

Jade leans in just a little too close, that unsettling smile plastered on his face. "I believe we would have an interesting time exploring the woods together. Perhaps we’ll discover some mushrooms... or each other’s secrets?"

Floyd Leech

Floyd swings an arm over your shoulder, grinning ear to ear. "Oi, let’s go somewhere fun! If anyone bothers us, I’ll squish ‘em."

"Floyd, is this a date?"

"Obviously! Hehe, you're stuck with me now, Shrimpy."

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim’s eyes sparkle with excitement. "Wanna come to a party? It’ll be huge! And afterward, we can ride my magic carpet under the stars!"

You barely have time to respond before he’s already planning an itinerary.

Jamil Viper

Jamil sighs, looking like he’s regretting this already. "If Kalim hasn’t dragged you off yet… would you like to grab lunch? Somewhere quiet, where I won’t have to babysit anyone."

Vil Schoenheit

Vil regards you with a calculating smile. "We could attend an opera together. Or a fashion show, if you prefer. You have potential, you know. I wouldn’t mind refining it."

Rook Hunt

"Ah, mon trésor!" Rook exclaims, dramatic as ever. "It would be a delight to hunt for beauty with you! A picnic in the forest, perhaps? Under the moonlight, where all things enchanting dwell."

Epel Felmier

Epel grins mischievously. "Wanna go smash stuff?"

"...That’s your idea of a date?"

"Yup." He winks. "You in or what?"

Idia Shroud

Idia looks like he’s on the verge of fainting. "So, uh... I-I heard there’s this new game releasing. M-maybe we could play it together? Or not. Forget I asked."

Before you can respond, Ortho pops up cheerfully. "Say yes! My brother’s been practicing this for weeks!"

Malleus Draconia

Malleus looms over you, an almost shy smile on his face. "I would be honored if you would accompany me on a stroll through the gardens. There are many things I wish to show you... and, perhaps, learn from you as well."

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia grins, his fangs glinting in the light. "How about a little mischief together? We could visit an amusement park or play pranks on the first years. Either way, I guarantee it’ll be memorable!"

Silver

Silver, looking half-asleep, gives you a soft smile. "If you’d like, we could... I don’t know. Sit under a tree and talk. Or just... exist, I guess. As long as it’s with you."

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek stands stiffly, as if on the verge of saluting. "I would like to take you to dinner! Not that it matters to me, of course! But it would be... logical for us to spend time together. As comrades!"

Rollo Flamme

Rollo catches you alone, adjusting his pristine cuffs with his usual air of seriousness. “I dislike crowds, so I will be brief,” he says, voice as even as his posture. “Would you like to accompany me to a quiet tea house? I find your company... less intolerable than most.”

You blink at him.

He clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “Consider it a date.” Then, after a pause, he quickly adds, “If you wish, of course.”

His ears are red, but he refuses to meet your gaze, determined to keep his dignity intact.

And just like that, you find yourself drowning in invitations. Your phone buzzes with reminders from Ortho ("Don't forget to reply to my brother!") and Epel’s laughter rings in your ears. Ace and Deuce whisper ominously about Riddle’s wrath.

Leona, meanwhile, lazily waves from the other end of the hall. "Pick whoever you want. If it's not me, just don’t wake me up."

So...

Who will it be?

1k Event Masterlist (Go here for routes)

Main Masterlist

[bumblesimagines]

Grateful You're Mine

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Princess Helaena finally weds the man she's been engaged to since they were children. She finds married life to be more than she expected.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, arranged marriage trope, fluff, they match each other's freaks and social levels, canon divergent/au since the twins aren't Aegons, literally nothing else just short and sweet

Crazy we hardly got to see the pleasant and happy girl she was described as 😔 WFMF coming soon!! just thought i'd give some other characters attention for once

~~~

As consciousness seeped into her body, the sweet smell of flowers filled her nose, powerful yet not overwhelming enough to irritate her. It took her brain a few moments to catch up and remind her that she no longer resided within the dreary walls of the Red Keep, but instead in her new home in Highgarden. She rubbed at her eyes with her knuckles gently and pushed herself into a sitting position, her eyes sweeping around the room before settling on the empty spot in the bed beside her. 

"Good morrow, Princess Helaena," Her handmaiden, Maecy, greeted with a friendly smile as she set down a tray with food to break her fast and herbal tea to warm her body. 

"Good morrow," She responded sleepily, slipping her legs free from underneath the blankets and wriggling her feet into the slippers beside the bed. "Has Lord (Y/N) gone somewhere?" 

Her handmaiden smiled knowingly, her slender fingers picking up one of the brushes set on the vanity. "I cannot say, My Princess. I am afraid I have been sworn to secrecy for the time being." 

Helaena's head cocked to the side but she nonetheless nodded silently and stood up, shuffling across the room to retrieve a slice of honeyed bread. She sat down on the comfortable chair and began eating, savoring each bite and licking her fingers clean as Maecy began delicately brushing her hair, untangling knots and smoothing the frizz out with oils. Once finished with her breakfast, Helaena stood up and blinked owlishly at Maecy when the brunette remained rooted in her spot instead of gathering the clothes she'd be wearing for the day.

Before she could question her, the doors parted and Helaena turned around, a smile immediately gracing her features upon seeing her new husband enter. (Y/N) returned it and walked forward, a servant following with a box in her hands as the doors shut firmly behind them. Helaena eyed the box curiously, her brows furrowing questioningly at him. 

"Do you recall that drawing you really liked of the beetle?" He asked her, leaning down to pluck a leftover grape from her plate and plop it into his mouth. Helaena gave a slow nod and he brightened, peering over his shoulder to nod to the servant. "I had a gift made for you."

Helaena watched as Maecy and the servant worked together to take the lid off before she gaped at the sight of a pretty soft blue dress with white accents. They lifted it from the box to showcase its full beauty, and her heart leaped in her chest at the lovely white design of a stag beetle threaded into the bosom area of the dress with small white flowers around it. She pressed her fingers to her lips, her pale lilac eyes widening as she fully absorbed the beauty of the dress. 

(Y/N) watched her, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. "Do you like it?" He questioned somewhat nervously only for the nerves to fade at the sound of Helaena's giddy giggle. She nodded and leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips that made his skin warm. 

Eagerly, Helaena allowed Maecy and the servant to help her dress, the two women giggling softly under their breaths at the way Lord (Y/N) turned around despite the two having wed the week prior. When they finished, Helaena studied her reflection in the mirror, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip at the wave of excitement and giddy rushing through her veins. The compliments and coos from the women were swiftly overshadowed by the way her husband's eyes lit up at the sight of her. 

"It is truly lovely," Helaena spoke softly, clutching the skirt to walk better as she strode forward before releasing it to take his hands into hers. He smiled again, rubbing his thumbs over the back of her hands soothingly, just as he had done under the table during their wedding celebrations when the music and loud chatter had become overwhelming for her. "Thank you." 

"Mother thought the fabrics would have been better in green but I've always thought you looked lovelier in blue." (Y/N) told her and she felt her own skin warm, a breathy and shy laugh escaping past her lips. He released one of her hands to brush back one of her silver strands, his eyes softened and filled with genuine warmth. 

After witnessing the loveless marriage between her parents and the chaotic marriage between Aegon and his Lannister wife, Helaena grew to fear her own wedding would be a miserable one. Her marriage to (Y/N) had been arranged by her grandsire after her mother dismissed the idea of her marrying her own brother and rejected her older half-sister's proposal to wed her to one of her sons, although he remained a stranger for many years until the Tyrells expressed their desires to see their heir with children of his own. 

She'd been nervous that day, and her mother's own anxiety hardly helped her own, but when (Y/N) stood before her with a pink hydrangea in hand and his eyes averted to focus on the floor beneath them, she realized she had little to fear. When they'd been left to wander the garden with a handmaiden trailing behind them, the awkward air faded with ease once she began speaking of her beloved crickets and the small creatures she found most interesting and he told her of the flowers that attracted certain creatures. A spark had seemingly ignited, one fueled the night of their wedding day when he offered to lie to their parents when she'd grown too nervous to consummate the marriage. 

"Oh," (Y/N) brightened once more. "You must see the garden at this time of year, Helaena. There's butterflies in every corner." 

And so they took a stroll through the garden, taking in the floral scents in the air and the vibrant rows of flowers with butterflies, other winged insects, and even a few hummingbirds bouncing from flower to flower.

Her mother had been right when she told her a girl of her disposition would do well within the peaceful walls of Highgarden; everything about Highgarden felt calming. The Red Keep had a tense air to it with its gloomy weather and near-suffocating residents but those who resided in Highgarden appeared more carefree and happy. Helaena enjoyed it, enjoyed being in a place where she received smiles instead of judgemental glances. 

Unlike in the Keep where time passed agonizingly slowly with little to nothing new happening, Highgarden always seemed to be bursting with life and music. Helaena found herself passing time with her husband in the garden, her hands focused on beginning an embroidery of a pretty butterfly she spotted whilst (Y/N) drew a flower with his chalk on paper. Things were silent between them yet merely spending time beside him satisfied her, allowing her to work with a small smile on her face. 

When they finished with their respective pieces, they returned inside and ate lunch in the quiet of their bedchambers. Helaena watched the servants scoop up the plates and take them away, cleaning the table and curtsying before swiftly leaving the room and leaving her to turn to look at (Y/N). His head remained tilted toward the balcony overlooking the large maze, his eyes distant but expression content. 

"Husband," Helaena roused him, bringing him back to the present. She licked a crumb off the owner of her lips and straightened up in her seat, casting Maecy a glance. "What do you think of having children?" 

"Babes are loud and messy." (Y/N) responded, leaning back into his chair and swirling around the last of his tea before bringing it to his lips. "It would be... nice to have some, though. I think it would please Mother to have grandchildren and Father would surely dote on them." 

"I'd like to have some soon," Helaena revealed. She'd always been told she'd make a lovely mother. "A boy and two girls, I think, would be nice. Mother claims Hightowers oft' have many boys, though." 

"We can have as many as you desire."

Children, Helaena came to learn, were rather interesting little creatures that brought forth such wonder and intense feelings out of her. Helaena simply couldn't get enough of watching her newest little one sleep cradled in her arms, her rosy cheeks more apparent from the complexion she'd inherited from her mother. Daenys gave a small yawn and squeezed her eyes before parting them to reveal the violet beneath. 

"Someone has finally awoken," Helaena murmured, tilting her head to look at her husband. He held a book in his hands, one about different flowers documented across Westeros, with their sleepy twins nestled between his arms. She reached out to run her fingers through Jaehaerys (H/C) hair, unable to bite back the smile when he nuzzled further into his father's chest. 

Carefully, (Y/N) set the book aside and scooped Jaehaerys up to settle him at his mother's side before he took Daenys into his arms, eyes crinkling with joy when she cooed at the sight of him. "I hear your nieces and nephews may give Queen Alicent some gray hairs." He chuckled. "It is no wonder why she visits as often as she does." 

"Maelor and his siblings have inherited much from their parents, I suppose. A lioness in gold forced to live in the cold will always have her claws out... and Aegon's never been... easy." Helaena spoke, her arm sliding around her only boy and the future heir to Highgarden. The look (Y/N) sent her way made her chuckle, lightly shrugging her shoulders. "I am certain he is a good father even if he may not be.. an adequate husband."

"If you say so." (Y/N) murmured, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against Daenys just to hear her burst with giggles. Her dozing sister parted her eyes at the sound and eagerly moved closer, eyes wide with adoration as she took in her new sibling again. Her father sweetly stroked the back of her head, tilting his arm so she'd have a better look at Daenys. "Though, he is as good of an uncle as Prince Aemond. He has already sent the finest jewels for Daenys."

"It's not so bad being married to a Targaryen, then?" Helaena asked teasingly, leaning toward him to rest her chin upon his shoulder. 

(Y/N) huffed a small laugh and kissed the side of her head. "Yes, it's not so bad. It's lovely, if anything, dearest." 

[emporium]

Coppy Youtooz Collectible Figure • $30.00

IN STOCK IN TUMBLR'S US BASED WAREHOUSE AND SHIPPING RIGHT AWAY. THIS IS NOT A PREORDER NOR A DROP SHIP.

Toner goes in the back! Here comes Coppy, everyone’s favourite office assistant in this official Tumblr x Youtooz collab!

Coppy’s rectangular grey body sits with trays sticking out on each side as arms. He has two green handles in the middle of each bottom drawer. Just below his mouth’s opening, you see a green button adjacent to a black panel with yellow buttons. Atop the lid is Coppys’ eyes and eyebrows. Coppy’s double-walled window box shows various pages floating down with a gradient dark blue background.

3.5 inches tall

Featuring matte, embossed, protective outer sleeve

Custom-sized plastic protector for maximum protection

About Coppy

Coppy was first introduced as an April fools’ joke, which took Tumblr by storm. He is an animated office assistant and copy machine. Coppy was created as a parody of another well know animated office assistant.

[naffeclipse]

Sparks and Oil

Mechanic!Reader x Mob Boss!Eclipse

Commission Info

I have the pleasure of writing @zayaayame's Crimes and Justice AU with a mob boss Eclipse visiting his favorite mechanic! Their dynamics are so fun together and of course, the boy is utterly endeared with the one fixing him up.

Content Warning for suggestive themes and robotic injury.

———

The animatronic, silver and gleaming, slips out the door with a cheerful wave of their newly restored digits on their left hand. You return the gesture with a gentle smile. When the door falls shut after their departure, you breathe a sigh. Exhaustion tugs at your seams; a day’s work worth. You step towards the open sign and flip it to close. Everyone has been taken care of. In terms of emergencies, your door is always open, of course, but as far as appointments go, you’re done.

Before your hand can find the deadbolt and slide it into place to lock up for the night, a shadow falls over you from outside. The lampposts lining the street already burn brightly, and the dusk is dying deeper into a fresh night. Slowly lifting your head, murmuring pleas to not be who you think it is, you find just the one you weren’t looking for.

Eclipse grins. A sharpness encases his brilliant red and black silicon and his sun rays jut out like red-hot pokers. Dressed sharply in a pink dress shirt, red vest, and black slacks, he reaches down with a hand from his lower set of arms to push the door open and step inside.

“Hello, spitfire,” his optics, burning orange, like the sun when it sets on a smoggy evening, go up and down your form. “Aren’t you looking like a dish tonight. And your prosthetics have never had more shine.”

“Eclipse.” You roll your eyes at his romantic attempts to appease you. You cross your arms, one of sleek metal and one of your natural, muscular flesh folding in your agitation.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asks and saunters a little closer. His lower arms are spread wide in greeting but you are not the least bit impressed. His grin is rough and rugged. His upper set of arms hang steady by his side. 

You tilt your head in the slightest. His pink sleeves are strangely rolled down, covering the intimidating factor of his thick limbs, but you spy a spot of grease on the corner of his left shoulder. Wires poke at the fabric from underneath.

It is bad enough to have a mob boss darkening your door. It’s worse when he needs your service.

“What happened? Wait, no.” You turn around, stepping one prosthetic forward before swinging your natural one after it in a swift stride. “I don’t want to know.”

“Not even a little?” He follows after you, a towering animatronic with the strength to break whatever he’d like with his four arms—three arms, currently. “You don’t want to know how the other man fared?”

You already guess that he’s six feet under and the less you know of illegal goings-on while managing your mechanic shops, the better. 

Ushering into the back room where your private workshop resides, you point to a low table and move in muscle memory, gathering tools and acquiring the necessary components to fix an injured shoulder joint. Afton Robotics services all animatronic parts and pieces, but they are not fun to get on hand. Eclipse is at least considerate enough to make monthly donations to your mechanic shops for all the scouring you do for him.

“Take a seat,” you command instead. “Don’t you have your own mechanics?”

Eclipse purrs a low sound as he settles on the edge of the metal table. He is too tall and imposing even when you stand before him, preparing your tray of tools for the procedure.

“Of course, but they don’t have the same touch as you, spitfire.”

You whip a glare at him before resuming arranging the parts you will need.

“Watch your tongue—and roll up your sleeve.” You stop at his side, ready.

“If you insist,” he rolls deeply in his voice box. Immediately, you stand on edge.

Now what?

To your chagrin, the mob boss’s lower set of hands gladly gets to work unbuttoning his vest. A flame flickers within you. Eclipse grins as he takes his agonizing time to uncover his torso, his pink shirt husked in favor of giving you a free look at his rugged design and bright red colors of warning. Your eyes roam unwittingly before his grin turns sharp like a shark watching you bleed.

Your natural hand reaches over you to twist and adjust your prosthetic arm as you battle the maddening urge to toss him back onto the street. When he finishes setting aside his shirt and vest, you immediately zero in on the torn arm dangling off of his shoulder by a few, straining wires.

“Do you like what you see?” he asks, resting his hands on the legs of his black slacks. His optics flash. “I can show you more.”

“Are you injured anywhere else?” you reply clinically. 

Eclipse clicks his metaphorical tongue in disappointment.

You lift a hand to the damaged framework and the connector. It’s not as horrible as you feared, but it is a nasty wound. Oil drips freely now that you’ve exposed the sight of damage and wires spark with short bursts of burning light.

“Will you shut off power to your top left shoulder?” 

Eclipse tilts his head and the sparks stop spitting out from exposed copper wires. Now there’s no need to fear frying yourself on an open current. You gladly step closer and begin to salvage what pieces you can and mentally account for what you will need to replace as you remove bullet-chewed pieces.

“You know,” Eclipse rumbles amid your concentration, “I wouldn’t have to find you at the oddest hours if you were closer.”

His lower right hand snakes around your waist. You ignore how his large palm ghosts just over the clothes of your jumpsuit before lightly caressing your spinal implant. The metal vertebrae whirl in a myriad of flashing, wild colors. He hums a low sound.

Lowering his head to your shoulder, a kiss presses into your shoulder, touching the sweat and grime you’ve accumulated throughout the day. You almost jump but force yourself to focus on splicing two wires to repair the strain they endured. Then, once you finish, for good measure, you snap a glare in Eclipse’s direction.

“If you kiss me while I’m working on you, I might make a mistake, and you will pay for it.”

“Understood, spitfire.” He chuckles but his hands still roam over your body. 

Even as you stand and bend over his wound, his fingers trail over your muscled arms and touch the cords of strength along your back, trailing down your hips to your strong thighs. Scars bump underneath his smooth, metallic touch. He even stoops low to study a few marred knits of flesh along your arm where your prosthesis joins with your body. 

If you weren’t so focused on replacing the connector of his shoulder, you might have caught a glint of guilt in his optics. He instead rubs your arm softly.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he breathes an electric breath. “You should move closer to me, so I can keep you safe. It’s so dangerous out here.”

You scoff and don’t bother to lift your eyes from the task at hand. His model is familiar if not threatening. He was built to be a weapon and a weapon he has made himself.

“Oh, you wound me, spitfire,” he croons dramatically.

“Do I,” you give dryly. “I doubt I could wound you as much as whatever did this to you.”

The precision of your tools fit between metal slats and wires, restoring what was once blasted apart by a gunshot. No, you don’t think you could hurt him like this.

One of his hands falls over his chassis and he swoons while keeping still enough for you to work.

“So cruel, so heartless. And I only offer all of my parts to you,” he sighs. If only you could have taken his voice module and switched it off. 

“You’ll live,” you promise. Against your will, a tiny small slips over your lips when Eclipse straightens, his optics slipping over you in a low burn. “There. You’re all patched up.”

You turn away to reach for a rag to wipe your greasy fingers on but the hand you just restored takes you by the arm. Falling still, you feel one of his other hands move into the pocket of your jumpsuit, depositing what feels to be a thick wad of cash. Another crook of a finger captures your chin. Slowly, you rise to meet his eyes, caught in the bright orange light of his optics.

“Thank you, spitfire.”

Your lips part to ask how it feels if the current flows well and if his movement is hindered at all, but he silences you with a kiss. His metallic mouth presses over yours. He’s warm and strong but mostly, gentle. You make a soft sound, surprised and furious and flustered by his audacity. He pulls slowly away from you as if savoring every last drop.

“I’ll see you again soon.” His grin is harsh and handsome, and you boil. He can’t do that to you just because he can. But he leaves you speechless, left with oil-slick fingers and a buffering mind as he slips to the front of the shop and out the door, into the night.

You burn where you stand. Your hand moves to your lips and traces where his kiss still simmers in your skin, and you groan. 

If he doesn’t get killed, you’ll kill him one of these days.

[aventurineswife]

Hello, hello! How's your day going? Could I request Aventurine with a lover who loves making and gifting him jewelry and accessories?

Chained in Gold

Summary: Aventurine finds himself enamored with a lover who has a unique talent for crafting jewelry and accessories. As you gift him pieces that reflect his personality, Aventurine begins to realize that beneath the high-stakes games and carefully constructed charm, there’s something far more valuable at stake: his heart.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Jewelry-Making, Established Relationship, Vulnerable Aventurine, Banter, Tender Moments.

The sun filtered through the massive glass windows of the IPC headquarters, painting the dark wood and polished floors with golden light. Aventurine sat at his desk, lounging as if the towering pile of investment documents before him was no more stressful than a light breeze. His eyes scanned over a datapad, but his mind was elsewhere.

Specifically, it was on you.

You had shown up this morning in his office as you always did, bearing a little box wrapped in shimmering paper. Inside was a bracelet: delicate chains of gold intertwined with tiny gemstone chips that sparkled like stars. You had said it reminded you of him—his shine, his brilliance, his ability to make even chaos look beautiful.

And now that bracelet sat snugly on his wrist, hidden beneath the cuff of his blazer sleeve. No one would know it was there, but Aventurine could feel its weight.

The thought of you crafting it made his chest ache with an emotion he often buried under charm and strategy. It was vulnerability—a sensation far more dangerous than any bet he had ever placed.

That evening, you sat cross-legged in your little workspace, a tray of tools and half-finished designs spread out around you. Aventurine had slipped away from his work early and stood quietly in the doorway, watching as your fingers deftly threaded silver wire through a small emerald bead.

"Do you ever rest?" His smooth voice broke the silence, making you jump slightly.

You looked up, smiling as you placed the half-finished earring on the table. "Rest is overrated when inspiration strikes. Besides, I have a certain someone who keeps my creativity alive."

He chuckled, stepping into the room and inspecting the scattered pieces. The light glinted off the glasses perched on his nose, their rose-tinted lenses casting a faint glow over his cheekbones.

"You spoil me," he said, picking up a necklace draped with charms shaped like playing cards. "This one’s new, isn’t it? A touch of luck for your favorite gambler?"

"Luck and love," you teased, standing to face him. "But I don’t think you need the former when you’ve got the latter."

The words caught him off guard, his usual quick-witted responses faltering. You were one of the few who could do that—strip him of his carefully constructed layers and make him feel seen. He reached out, his gloved fingers brushing a stray hair from your face.

"You make me reckless," he murmured, his smile softer than usual. "And I think I like it."

A week later, Aventurine sat across from you at a bustling café. The world outside was cold and dreary, but here, the warmth from the drinks and the glow of your presence made it feel like summer.

You handed him another little box, your grin playful. "Go on, open it."

Inside was a set of cufflinks shaped like tiny roulette wheels. The craftsmanship was exquisite, the enamel shimmering in shades of black and red. He held one up, his lips quirking into a smile.

"Let me guess," he said, "you’re trying to rig my odds?"

"Only in your favor." you replied.

He leaned back, twirling one cufflink between his fingers. "You’re dangerous, you know. Giving me trinkets like this—it’s like you’re branding me as yours."

"Good." you shot back, sipping your drink with a wink.

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze steady and intense. Then he reached across the table, his gloved hand covering yours.

"I’ve lived my life on the edge of losing everything," he said quietly. "But you... you make me think there’s something worth keeping."

Your cheeks flushed at the rare sincerity in his voice. "Then hold onto me." you whispered.

He didn’t need to say anything more. The look in his eyes—the same daring, confident glint he wore in the heat of high-stakes deals—said it all. Aventurine wasn’t a man to gamble on something unless he believed he could win. And with you by his side, he felt invincible.

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow; 8

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

The door was fixed with great haste. Before you knew it, you were back in the apartment playing housewife again. Coriolanus’s distrust of you grew to a new level. He no longer trusted you to remain home by yourself. Edmund was still not found, and Coriolanus was certain he would reappear and take you away.

You now worked with him, slept with him, and ate every meal with him. The fence line seemed like an impossible goal with him being so suffocating. You were pretty sure the broken chain was not found. He would have said something, would have taunted you with how close your freedom was. It meant you had something up your sleeve against him.

But you had no way of getting to it. You had tried to disappear during his work hours, when he was most distracted, but the only time you seemed to be out of his sight was when you showered. If there had been a window in the bathroom, you were sure that he would have been in there too.

You tried your best to soften him with affection. When you had the chance, you baked him the oatmeal cookies he loves. He ate whole plates in one sitting.

But as his work increased, your work decreased. Long days spent at his office were hard to fill. He sat behind his desk and never seemed to stop working. Sometimes there was mending you could do, or shoes to shine but most of the day you sat on the couch reading what was on hand.

You had taken to organizing the books in alphabetical order, then grouped them according to color. You worked quietly and slowly. Careful not to make any noise to disturb Coriolanus from his work. You had taken them down again just moments ago to reorganize them by subject when Coriolanus' assistant came in carrying a tea tray and a large parcel. 

She drops the parcel down on the table in front of you, amongst the books. You look over it to see your name neatly scribbled on the recipient's information. 

The receptionist doesn’t look at you as she puts the tea tray in front of Coriolanus. 

He thanks her but her response is drowned out to your ears by the opening of the box. 

“Is it from Tigris?” 

You wait until the receptionist shuts the door behind her to respond. 

You confirmed it was, as you pulled a soft silk nightdress from the box. It was light pink which was uncommon for the districts. Dark pink lace trimming boarded along the bottom and top of the dress. You run your finger across it. It was the most expensive material you had ever felt. 

Another dress was folded in the box and you take it out. 

It was light blue with yellow birds flying across it, made of a soft cotton material that would fall around your ankles. 

“You like them?” he asks.

“They are beautiful,” you admit. 

You look in the box for more to see a small pouch filled with sweets from the Capitol. 

Tigris was too kind. If things had been different, you would have been a good friend to her. But as her cousin's captive, you were now sworn enemies. The box of treats didn’t change that. 

You return the items to the box and see parchment paper protecting soft material at the bottom. 

“There's a shirt for you.” It was a long white dress shirt with gold stitching running in horizontal lines down it. 

He comes from his desk to collect it. Taking it gently from your hands, he brings it up to his nose and inhales the scent. 

“You really miss home,” you comment, watching him breathe in the scent the shirt carried. 

“I do. More than anything.” He returns to his desk with it still in his hands. 

“You’ll be home soon.” 

“We’ll be home soon”. 

You smile thinly at him. “That’s what I said.” 

“You should see the Capitol. Clothing, culture. Actual buildings, not these pieces of tin. You’ll be able to breathe much better in the Capitol.” 

The scratching of his pen picked up where his sentence had been incomplete as he began his work again. The shirt lay across his lap. 

“I have the day off tomorrow,” he said without stopping his work, “I was thinking we could visit the waterfall again. It will probably be the last time before Ravinstill dies.” 

The thought made your stomach drop. If you don’t make it beyond the fence, it would in fact be the last time you ever saw your favorite place. The time was better spent within the compound waiting for an opportunity. He would never let you get too far in the district. 

“I’d prefer not to.” 

“Why?” he questions with a hard tone. He continued to write but the pen pressed firmly into the paper. 

“I am behind on my chores, and I haven’t made anything in a while. The food in the fridge will go bad if I don’t get to it soon.” 

“Let it. The Capitol is full of food.”

You realize now that Coriolanus had already made up his mind to do the activity. You wondered why he chose it. He hated the heat and the bugs. 

You walk over to the tray of hot tea and pour out a cup, making it to his liking and placing it down in front of him. 

“We’ll go if you want to.” 

“Why don’t you want to go?”

“Why do you want to? The walk up there will take us nearly the whole morning in the hot sun.” 

“I thought it might make you happy.” 

He was trying to win your approval before he ripped everything you had ever known from your finger tips. It was something to use against him. Coriolanus responded best when he was in a position to be a hero. He would do anything so long as he felt he was the only one who could do it for you. 

You lean down and wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting your face against his neck. 

“You know what would make me happy? Some vanilla extract so I can send Tigris some shortbread cookies back”.

He responds positively by wrapping his hands around your forearms. He liked you looking out for Tigris. 

“She’s been asking to meet you.” He says, his hand gently wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “I have a call with them next Friday afternoon. Maybe you’d like to come with.” 

You retract your hold now that he was in a better mood. 

There was only one answer you could give him when it came to his family. 

“I’d love to”. 

You had a deep hate for Capitol people but Tigris seems different. In any case, you were sure you could remain civil for an hour-long phone call. 

Pouring yourself a cup of tea, you return to your spot with it and Coriolanus returns to his work. 

———- 

 You stood out in the sun with Coriolanus as he discussed the new recruits' performance with another high-ranking officer. They were splitting them up into areas of work. The strong and fast became foot soldiers, the slow were put on kitchen duty, and the ones who showed a inclination to aggression were watchmen. He spared a couple to the infantry to learn basic medic care and help around the hospital. You couldn't work out what sent those recruits apart. It seemed random but you knew nothing Coriolanus did was without great care and strategy.

All the men seemed equally angry and you wondered if Coriolanus was the same when he was a Peacekeeper. 

The sun felt nice upon your skin after so long. It was late afternoon and it had just begun to set, leaving behind a nice cool breeze. 

You thought about your mother and Edmund. Were they enjoying the sun too? 

The sound of a vehicle approaching ruined the moment of reflection. Coriolanus took your hand in his as soon as the tires upon the gravel could be heard as if you were to be run over if he didn’t. 

It surprisingly stopped in front of where you stood. A transport car with no doors and a large trunk carried two men. A younger man wearing a District 12 peacekeeper uniform and an older man who wore a Commander uniform set apart by its light purplish color. 

“Commander.” The older man greets as he swings out of the car. 

“Vongurt.” Coriolanus uses his spare hand to offer a handshake which is strongly and fervently taken. 

Another Commander had come to see Coriolanus. You doubted he was any better than the last. 

“This is my wife, Y/N.” With his hand, he leads you in front of him to show you off to the Commander.

You were stiff with shock as the man's disapprovingly raked his eyes over you. He too felt jarred at the label of wife. District women weren’t wives. They were barely considered human.

But he smiles nonetheless, something you couldn’t return.

“Pleasure.” With a kiss placed upon your hand, the Commander's attention was turned back to Coriolanus.

 “Your compound is impressive, Commander Snow. It has to be the largest I’ve seen.” 

Coriolanus seemed unimpressed by the comment. He turns back to the Peacekeepers watching them as they leap, and fight. 

“A palace of scrap metal.” 

He waves over a tall man in a high-ranking uniform, who quickly makes his way over from across the field. 

“Your apartment is only slightly better. Sergeant AJ will take you there.” 

“I was hoping that we could talk. I’ve come all this way from District 2.”

“Later, Commander. The conference room at 7. You’ll have my undivided attention there.” 

The man nods back and follows his guide back into the car. 

Coriolanus makes a comment to his officer about a recruit and the man jotted down all of his thoughts. 

You wanted to get away. Break free from his hold and bolt to the fence line. His delusions had reached a new height, with him now openly telling lies to men with power. 

Your body moves to your thoughts. You hadn’t even realized you were twisting your hand away from him until he tightened his hold. 

He turns to you, asking if you are ok. 

“I need to go home” you respond. Home to my mother. Back home to normalcy. 

“Take whoever we missed today and regroup them tomorrow morning” he directs the man next to him. A whistle is blown and the recruits stop their training, instead they congregate in front of you. 

Coriolanus turns as his officer begins to dish out instructions, taking you back to the apartment. 

“The heat can get to you,” he says. 

You had lived in District 12 all your life if anyone was to know about the heat it was you. But you verbally agree and apologize for taking him away from his work. 

He hushes you and it ends the conversation for the walk home. 

He lets you go as you enter your prison, and you take off without him to the bedroom. 

You hear his voice wafting down the hallway telling you to lie down. You shove your boots off and get into bed. Every day your window closes. It won’t be long before either the broken fence is found or you are carted off on the train. 

But he had called you his wife. Not just to anyone but a Capitol Commander. Even if you got away, the idea that he would leave you here for the presidency is just a fantasy. 

How long would you need to live in hiding before he forgot you? Could you bear the costs of it for as long as needed? What work could you do in the mountains to support yourself and your mother? 

Wife. Why did he have to say wife? You weren’t that. You were his captive, a victim of his need to be cared for. 

Coriolanus enters the room with a wet, cold rag and runs it over your forehead. A victim of his need to pretend he was capable of caring for something. 

He sits on the bed beside you running the cloth over your forehead and into your hair. 

“Do you feel alright?” he asks as you take the cloth off him. 

“I am fine. Just a little lightheaded.” You throw the cloth on the bed stand and he takes it as a signal to get up. 

“I’ll get you some water.”

He disappears and you're thankful for the space to think. Could you tell him you just need a walk around the compound by yourself to think? No, he would take it as an insult. 

You had to get out. The fence was so close. 

You don’t notice him as he sits back down beside you. Only the glass to your lips made you see him. 

“I won’t go to the meeting with Vongurt if you are unwell.” 

You sit up straighter at his words, pushing the glass away from you. 

“No!” you say harshly, “No, you should go. I am fine.” 

“You don’t look well.” You were sure you looked terrible after you had the shock of your life. 

“But I feel fine. Just too much sun.” 

He looked annoyed that you were arguing with him so you switched tactics. 

“We need his support to get back to the Capitol. Maybe you could just leave the door open for some fresh air?” 

You had pushed too hard, and he got up

“If I am not here, the door is shut.”

“Of course,” you breathe with a soft smile at him, “I’ll be fine by the time you have to leave.”

Coriolanus hovered around you for the next hour and a half before he had to start getting ready for his meeting. He took a shower to wash the sweat off him from the day and changed into his official outfit. It fit snugly, his broad shoulders carried the uniform well. 

He attached the dressings of his uniform as you watched him from the bed. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t go tonight. What if you feel unwell while I am away?” His fingers were still on the badge he was trying to put on. 

“I am fine,” you assure him, “I feel fine.” 

“We should invite him here. That way if you need me, I am here.” 

You cringed at the thought of serving Commander Vongurt. 

“I won’t need you. Besides the conference room is much nicer.” You get up to help him put on his badge and send him on his way. 

“I haven’t felt unwell since dinner.” Coriolanus stood over you as you cooked, convinced that the heat in the kitchen would make you unwell again. With a knife in your hand, it was a dangerous time for Coriolanus to tell you what to do.

“You’re sure?” he pokes. 

You were tired of saying it so you just nodded your head. 

“Go to the bathroom then.” 

It was an odd request. 

“What?” you question. 

“Go to the bathroom and take a shower. Get changed into your night dress.”

He checks his watch once before motioning you forward. 

There was no other option for you then to follow his request. You thought maybe he just wanted to complete the bed time routine. He wanted to know you were washed and dressed for bed for his own comfort. You never knew what made him tick. 

You complete the tasks quickly and return to find he had placed a glass of water and a packet of dried mixed fruit.

You quiz him on it but he doesn’t answer. He takes your wrist in his hand and tugs you to the bed.

Taking out his handcuffs, he clips your wrist into the cuff, pulling it up to the headboard where he attached the other cuff. 

You tug against it in protest. “What are you doing?”

“Just in case, Edmund comes back.”

“He won’t! Please unlock me.” you beg. 

“I left your book there if you are not ready to sleep yet.” He stands tall and readjusts his uniform. 

“Coriolanus!” You say in a serious tone, “Get this off of me.”

You pull against it brutally and he captures your hand against the headboard. 

“I left you one hand so you can read. I don’t have to.” 

“Please, don’t leave me here like this!” He ignores you, bending down once more to flick on the lamp. 

“You’ve had a big day. Try and rest. I’ll be home soon.” 

“Coriolanus!” you call out watching him leave. He flicks off the main light as he goes. 

“Coriolanus!” you yell. 

You had never felt anger as you lay trapped in bed. He dictated when you worked, when you rested, when you ate. Nothing was yours anymore. Every breath you took was only because he allowed you to take it. 

There was nothing to tell the time on. It felt like years waiting for him to come back and release you. You didn’t read, only plotted. 

Could you feed him something to make him sick? Surely he would request you to come see him in the infirmary. You could break away when returning from your visit. What if he caught you trying to poison him though? 

Friday provided the perfect opportunity. While he was distracted with his family you could sneak away. The communication building was on the other side of the compound but at least you would be outside of the apartment. 

But how would you get away far enough to make a break for it? You thought about what was in the surrounding area of the communications building. Nothing would be a reasonable excuse to pardon yourself. 

Could you excuse yourself to the bathroom? Surely one of the surrounding offices would have one. Would he let you go alone? Sacrifice time with his family to take you. Would he even let you go or just expect you to make do until the phone call was over? 

You came up with twenty different scenarios of escape routes, each one ended with Coriolanus catching you. 

You wished you didn’t shoo Edmund away now. He could have got the door opened in time. It was only your fearfulness that stood in the way of your escape. You could be with him now, with your mother. Up in the mountains, safe and sound. 

God, you hoped they were safe and well-fed. 

You wished for nothing more than to tend to your mother, to ensure that she was alright. 

The care that was supposed to go to her was now unjustly turned towards Coriolanus, who was adamant to wring it from your hands. 

Edmund had always taken whatever care you gave him with great appreciation. 

Never demanded more, and then took it with force. 

He was kind and patient. Two things Coriolanus is not. 

And now you have dragged him into this mess where his life is at great risk. Still, he had never demanded any more from you. 

When his lips first met yours, they were placed almost in questioning. It was up to you to accept and beg for more. 

You wished you had seen his affection for you sooner. But he was your brother's best friend, and the main protector of you and your mother. If Coriolanus never entered the picture you doubt he ever would have acted on it. 

But he had, and you had returned the affection. It was the start of something new and beautiful or the end of years of friendship and familiarity. 

Once Coriolanus went back to the Capitol, your new life would begin. 

You hoped it would be alongside Edmund. You would pay him back for his bravery.

You would be a good girlfriend to him, then wife, and then mother of his children. You would never ask him for anything, and take great care of his family life. You would ensure his happiness, as he ensures your life now. 

You almost forget you were chained to the bed of the Commander as you daydream of brown-haired babies. But the sound of Coriolanus arriving home was a solemn reminder. His boots against the hardwood floor soften as they reach the bedroom door. 

You still had a great challenge before you got to nurse Edmund’s children. 

You had to get away from Coriolanus, and the only way you could do that is if he had no idea that you planned to. 

The door creaks open and you sit up straight to watch him enter. 

“I am sorry. Did I wake you?” He places his coat on the foot of the bed and crawls over to where you lay. 

“No. I was waiting for you.”

He smiles down at you as he unlocks the cuff from your wrist with the keys in his pocket.

“You seem happy,” you comment. You could smell the whiskey on his clothes as he leaned over you.

“I am. I have you. I have Commander Vongurt’s support behind me, and Ravinstill is not expected to last the winter. We’ll be home before you know it.”

Throwing the keys on his bedside table, he leans down to kiss you before resting his head on your collarbone.

“That’s not long,” you comment. 

“Three months at the most.”

You drowned in your anxiety quietly as he rested. 

Three months and your life was over. 

 He takes your silence as a quiet contemplation. 

“Are you thinking of your mother?” he runs a curled finger along your nose.

“Yeah. I’ll miss her”. You hope to never have to know the pain of missing her again. These past few weeks have been unbearable.

“You’ll write. I’ll organize a time she can come to the compound for video calls.”

You were sure he was going to let you write and call. For how long was another thing. You could see it already, your calls being cut short, your letters ‘lost’ in the mail.

“Yeah,” you respond again.

Your mind races with ideas of escape. You could fake a sickness and be sent to the medical camp. No, he wouldn’t send you there. He panicked today over a supposed case of heatstroke. 

He lowers his head down closer to you where you can smell the evening on him.

“You want to know what I was thinking?” he asks playfully.

You could start a fire during dinner time. He was sure to open the door to let you out before dealing with the flames.

“Yeah?” you entertain. Fire could go wrong for a number of reasons. Besides you would have to fight your way to the oven. Especially now that Commander Vongurt was here. Coriolanus would be too busy to wait for you to cook something.

“I was thinking I hope we have a boy first. Then two girls, then another boy.”

Your eyes shoot open as his hand reaches out across your stomach. His hand finds its way under your shirt and he lays a warm palm over your belly.

Then again, a big enough fire might kill him. Was it worth a shot?

“You called me your wife today. That’s not true.”

“What else should I have called you? We sleep together, eat together, wake together. We look after each other. The only thing missing is an official title but as soon as we get back to the Capitol, we’ll fix that.”

You turn away from him to your side. Now that the talk of the Capitol was becoming a more serious threat, you felt sick.

“Did I scare you with talk of babies? It wouldn’t be for a few more years yet.”

His rants did scare you. That would be your life if you didn’t figure out a way to the fence. Nursing Commander Snow’s babies in the Capitol. Away from your mother. Away from Edmund.

Still, you had to perform. You couldn’t let any more distrust between him and you grow. 

“You didn’t scare me. I am just tired. I’ve waited up all night for you.”

You feel a soft kiss press against your ear before the weight of the bed was shifted as he moved.

“Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He leans over you once more to flick off the light. You hear him walk out to the bathroom to take a shower.

Could you force him to give you the keys? The chain was still dangling from the headboard. If you could somehow get his wrist caught, you could threaten him with a kitchen knife. You shake the thought from your head. You couldn’t hurt him with a knife. You were sure even one-handedly, he could take it off you if you tried.

You just needed a distraction, just two seconds when his attention wasn’t on you to escape.

Wet, salty tears rolled down your cheeks as you lay in the dark, but you made no sound.

You were still awake when he returned from his shower, dressed in his pajamas. Thinking you are asleep he is slow and quiet as he rejoins you in bed.

He curls up against your back and rests his hand on your stomach as if there is something already inside. He wasn’t going to wait a few more years. He said it purely for your comfort.

He dreamt of being a young President with a baby on the way. And another one close after that, and another, and another. He would undo history. He would have as many baby Coriolanus’s and Tigris’ as it took to heal the past.

Watching you nurture, feed, and play with his children would overtake his memories of fighting for his life when he should have been nursed by his mother.

He felt as if he was in the area but soon to be crowned Victor. President Ravinstill just had to die before he could have it all.

His destiny that had been interrupted when his father died but was now back on track. From birth, Coriolanus Snow was supposed to be the man who had it all. Not some impoverished boy, hanging on to his father’s legacy.

When he died, he would be remembered as his own man. Not as the shadow of his father.

Coriolanus Snow; Beloved President of Panem, star pupil of the Academy, Plinth Prize winner, devoted husband and father, and Victor of the games. Coriolanus would be remembered as the man who had it all.

You lay awake under him. The smell of alcohol mixed with the scent of his soap. It burnt your nose as you inhaled. 

 President Ravinstill could die tonight. There was no guarantee that he would even make it to winter. You had to get out. If you made it to the Capitol, you would never get back home. 

While he was intoxicated was your best chance. He seemed so still now, you could take the keys off the nightstand and go through everyone. You were sure he wouldn’t wake, not until it was too late. You remember when your father drank on special occasions, he would sleep for 14 hours at a time. Coriolanus was sure to sleep for at least half that. 

You wait until you can’t feel him twitch before you rise from bed. Very slowly, very carefully, you peel yourself from him, shoving a pillow in your place. He doesn’t move from your actions so you continue over to his nightstand where his key ring is laid. 

Rows and rows of keys looped together. They jingle as you pick them up. Panic runs like ice up your spin as you turn back to see Coriolanus; unmoved and unknowing. 

You wrap your hand around as many keys as you can to stop further noise and make your way to the door. Checking every few steps to ensure he wouldn’t turn up behind you. 

The floor creeks as you pass the hallways to the living room but no other sound follows as you cross the kitchen to the door. 

You start at the very first key. It slots in but refuses to turn. Moving on to the next, and the next in methodological order, bypassing the ones that were too big or small to be entertained. 

You try numerous times but the right key is buried among the many. 

Feeling as if it had been hours since the first key, you felt confident that it was coming up. 

You stuck a key in with no resistance. The hope that died in you reappeared as the lock turned with the key. 

But all too soon it died again, as you felt a hand snake into your hair. It yanks your head harshly back and you find yourself pressed against Coriolanus. 

“That key will get stuck in the door, and it’d be a great pain to get it out again.” 

His hand in your hair pulls you back. 

“I was just going to the kitchen to get some ingredients for a hangover cure. I was coming back.” His hand twists unforgivably in your hair as you make your plea. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he seethes. 

“I am not!” You protest, trying to break free from his grasp. 

“You think I am some type of fool?” 

 Reaching over you, he takes the keys out of the door and leads you back to the bedroom. 

“Coriolanus. Please just listen to me.” 

“If I had listened to you, I would have left the door opened. You spoiled, deceiving, little bitch.” 

He was still drunk. You could smell it from his breath. 

You thought it would make him complacent but it instead made him more violent. 

“I was getting you my father's hangover cure.” 

You stumble as he pushes you over the doorway. 

“You need to trust me, Coriolanus.” 

He shoves you until you are back to your side of the bed. 

“I don’t.”

He throws the keys hard across the room to free his hands. 

“I trust you.” You don’t fight him as he recuffs your chain, instead you willingly go along with it. 

For good measure, you place a kiss on his cheek which throws him off guard. 

“I don’t trust you.” he reiterated softly. 

“That’s ok,” you state, “One day you will. We’ll have a happy life together. You, me, and our children.” 

He looks perplexed at your words but makes no further comment as he lays down by your side, resting his head on you. 

“I’ve tried my best to take care of you. To make you happy.”

“You have.” you console. You were no longer worried about President Ravinstill lasting the night, but rather yourself. 

“Then why-”

“I wasn’t running. I was trying to take care of you.” 

His face turns into your skin. You bring your free hand up to his head and press it down. 

“Everything is ok. Just go to sleep. You’re drunk. You don’t mean it.” 

You run your fingertips up and down starting from behind his ear, down to the bottom of his neck, and up again. You do it until you feel his shallow breaths upon your skin, only then do you release the tears from your eyes.

When you wake the next morning, your wrist is free and Coriolanus is not in bed. 

You rise to find him in the kitchen, frying bacon. Maybe he was too intoxicated last night to remember his anger towards you.

“Good morning,” you offer. He doesn’t return the greeting. Maybe he did remember last night, and you were in a lot of trouble. 

“How are you feeling?” you try again. 

“What’s your father's hangover cure?”

“Two eggs, hot sauce, milk, salt, pepper, and honey”. Your father did not have a hangover cure and it did not include hot sauce or honey, both of which were considered luxury items in the District. 

He looks for the ingredients, slamming the cupboards he turns towards you. “All here.”

“Oh,” you comment, “That’s good. Did you want me to make you one?”

The bacon pops in the pan and you rush over to distract yourself with it. 

“Sit down. I’ll take over cooking”. The bacon was overcooked to the point where it would be barely edible. 

“So what did you need for the compound kitchen last night?”

“I didn’t know we had the items. It's been that long since I cooked, I just assumed we were out.” 

“You assumed you wouldn’t get caught.” 

You sigh. Coriolanus in a bad mood would only mean bad things for you. 

“I wasn’t running. I was trying to help. Are you always going to doubt me?”

“Yes.” he answers, pulling the pan back off you. 

He dumps the bacon onto a plate and takes it to the kitchen table. You begin to clean up after him as he sits and eats. 

The plate is still full by the time he is telling you to go get ready for the day. 

You put on the blue sun dress he likes which acts as a two-second buffer for his anger when he sees you. 

He had paused in the middle of throwing his bacon into the trash. Such a waste of food. You thought. 

But he was determined to stay in his mood. He slides the empty plate across the counter. 

“I am late for work,” he says. 

It was unusual for him not to hold your hand as you walked to his office. You would have to work hard today to please him. 

His tea was already sat upon his desk when you arrived and you rushed to pour him one.

He doesn’t drink it. It goes cold as he does his work. 

You try extra hard to be quiet.  There was sewing left from yesterday which you begin to complete. 

“We still haven’t found your mother,” he says out of the blue after a morning of not speaking or looking at you. 

His words filled you with confidence. If you could get to the mountains, at least you knew you were safe.

He doesn’t look up as he speaks. 

“Edmund hasn’t returned to his house but there was a rumor that he was swapping meat for medical supplies just yesterday.”

What would he need medical supplies for? You wondered. Was your mother okay? Was he okay?

You needed to see them to make sure.

“He’s probably hiding with your mother in what’s left of the forest. Don’t worry. We’ll find him and bring your mother home.”

It was a disguised threat. He was trying to get a rise out of you. 

“Good,” you comment. Keep searching the forest while they remain safe in the mountains.

“Good.” he repeats back.

A comfortable silence returns as you both go back to work, but it’s interrupted by his secretary bursting through the doors.

“Sir! Sir!” she gasps. Coriolanus shot up from his chair.

“Commander Vongurt is angry!”

You follow him without a word out of the office.

“The courtyard!” the secretary directs.

You fall behind his fast pace and reach for him blindly to keep from falling too far behind.

A crowd had formed by the time you reached the courtyard. You could hear the familiar sound of flogging and painful cries.

The crowd parts as Coriolanus approaches. In the middle of the bystanders was Commander Vongurt and a young boy curled on the dirt floor.

Coriolanus looks upon the same boy who failed to hit the target on the hot day.

Grabbing the baton from the Commander, he throws it to the ground.

“What are you doing?”

“Commander Snow,” Vongurt was out of breath from exerting himself in his beating, “This boy is a disgrace to your legacy. I caught him passing scraps to the prisoners through the bars.”

With the protection of Coriolanus, you felt safe enough to speak out, “He’s just a boy.”

“Take him to the jail. He can sleep there for a week if he likes their company so much.”

“Coriolanus!” you take his arm and tug it. He gives you a harsh look and you know you won’t be able to persuade him.

The boy cries out and begins to beg as he is carted away by two others.

“Coriolanus, please!” You tug his arm once more and he hits you harshly across the cheek.  

You stumble upon the impact. The men shuffle away from you as you try and regain your footing. 

Coriolanus takes your arm in a harsh grip, pulling you back in the right direction but he is turned to speak to Vonngurt.

“District 12 is my district. Next time you feel like taking discipline into your own hands, don’t.”

The older Commander nods his head, but you can see he is displeased to have been spoken to in such a manner.

“Let’s go.” He was now talking to you and shoving you forcefully in front of himself back to the office.

You tear yourself free as the door shuts behind you.

“You don’t dictate my decisions.”

Your nose is clogged from your tears. You couldn’t tell if you were crying out of pain or anger. Your brain was still trying to catch up.

“Calling my name,” he says astonished, “It doesn’t matter if you disagree with my decision. Your job is to support me.”

He catches you as you try to make your way from him and he tosses you to the couch, where he stands over you. 

“You embarrassed me. Vongurt already thinks I can’t control my Peacekeepers, now he thinks I can’t control my women as well.”

You cup your bruised cheek. This wasn’t about Vongurt. He was still hurting about your attempt last night. All day he was looking for a reason to lash out, Vongurt only provided the opportunity. 

You were put back on defense. With only at most a month before you were carted off to the Capitol, mistakes couldn’t be afforded.

“I am sorry.” you choke out.  

He squinted his eyes, bringing his hand up to his head before throwing it back again, “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t!” you spit. There is no sincerity in your voice. 

“Look at me when I am talking to you.” He takes your chin into his hand and pulls it up to his eye level. “Ravinstill is expected to die shortly. This behavior of yours cannot be brought back to the Capitol.”

“It won’t be. I am sorry.” Your fists clench by your side.

He turns your chin to expect your cheek. 

“I did it too. That’s the only reason I spoke out. I would have been thrown in jail too.” you contend.  

He lets go of your chin and stands up to full height, “You think a Peacekeeper would get the same punishment as a District? No. You would have been hanged. Yet another reason to be loyal to me. I’ve saved you.”

“I am loyal to you. Grateful for you.” You get up and follow him as he makes his way to his desk. 

“Coriolanus, please don’t be mad at me. I was only ever trying to help.” 

You sob ugly causing him to spin around. Your cheek hurt, and you felt the weight of the world on your shoulders trying to get away within such a short time frame. You were overwhelmed with the whole scenario and the thought of dealing with Coriolanus as he looked for opportunities to lash out was too much to bear.��

He softens upon your unraveled composure, taking you into his arms. 

“Stop crying. It’s okay”. You feel him rest his head on top of yours. “I am just a little wound up trying to get everything in order. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I am sorry.” 

You smile slightly, he is back on defense. 

—------

Friday came quickly. The call wasn’t until the afternoon so you spent the whole day as a ball of anxiety. 

But at least you had a plan. On evening walks you took more notice of the building surrounding the communications tent, and saw a nurse carrying a load of blankets into a building of washing machines. 

There were few things Coriolanus let you do alone, washing was one of them.

The washing machine in the apartment would need to be dealt with. But the long hours spent in his office meant that the dirty clothes were piling up. He would demand a fresh uniform for work. If you left it close to his phone call with his family, he was sure to let you go. 

You push it out for as long as you can. He had wanted to leave ten minutes ago but you kept pressing him for one more minute. 

You had taken small rocks from the ground during your afternoon walk, telling Coriolanus you would like to take a part of home back to the Capitol with you. He had allowed you to collect a small jar, you picked the biggest rocks you could find. 

Big enough to jam the pipes of the washing machine. 

“Darling, please. We have to leave.” He bangs on the door of the washing room. 

You finish shoving the rocks as far as they would go down the pipe. It made an awful sound as the washing machine ate them up causing the water to rise. 

“Coriolanus,” you call. As soon as you open the door, he grabs your arm, ready to yank you out. 

“Coriolanus. The machine is broken. Look.”

He barely glaces at it, “ I’ll send someone to fix it. Let’s go.” 

“I need to do the washing,” you pick up the basket as he pulls you from the room, “Can I use the compound washing machines?”

“That’s fine. Just move, we are late.” 

You struggle to keep up with him as he rushes along the compound. He hated it if his phone call was cut short by even a second. Now he was two minutes late and he was almost running to make up time for it. 

You reach the building in record time. He lets go of you to pick up speed, leaving you by the door as he hurries.

He rushes to the small screen, not bothering to sit down on the wooden chair as he twisted the knobs. “Tigris, Tigris? Can you hear me?” 

He must have heard a voice on the other side as he broke out into a smile. It was a pretty, genuine smile that you had not seen before. 

“Hey,’’ he laughs.  You watch from where you stand by the door. He seemed almost unrecognizable. A young boy sent away to a summer camp instead of a ruthless and ambitious Commander. “I am sorry. The washing machine broke. How are you?”

His tone is light and happy as he talks to Tigris. You wonder if he had forgotten he even brought you. He didn’t glance at you as he spoke, giving her his full attention. 

You wonder if it is best to make your exit now but his words stop you.

“She’s here.” he waves you over. You drop the basket in coming to him. You wondered what Tigris would look like. What she would sound like. 

Coriolanus holds out the receiver for you. You peer at the screen to see a blonde girl in colorful clothing before you put the receiver to your ear. 

“Hello,” you greet. 

“Oh!” Tigris croons. She pulls the receiver away from her mouth to lessen her shout, “Grandma’am come see!”

She smiles as she turns her attention back to you, “Oh, Coryo has talked so much about you.”

“What is she saying?” Coriolanus places his hands on your hip and pulls down so you are sitting on his knee. 

“She’s said you’ve talked about me,” you answer. 

He smiles gently at you, turning the receiver in your hand out between you. 

An older woman comes too close into the frame and Tigris pulls her back. 

“Is that her?” the old woman asks Tigris who nods. 

“Girl-Girl.” she talks into the speaker. 

“Yes, Ma’am?” 

“You must be grateful he is sending you back to the Capitol. Don’t ruin it like the last one.” 

Coriolanus snatches the receiver away from your ear to soften her words but you heard them any way. 

“Grandma’am is unwell,” he tells you, “Pay her no mind.” 

Tigris takes back the receiver and positions it in a similar fashion to Coriolanus. 

“Did you get the dresses I sent?” 

“I did. Thank you. I was hoping to send you back some shortbread but Coriolanus has been busy with work.” 

“He was saying you cook. Grandma’am and I are so excited to meet you!” 

“Me too,” you lie. “I hear the Capitol is wonderful. I look forward to exploring it with you.” 

Tigris laughs. She was beautiful, you thought. Perhaps too popular to be showing you the capital. You felt foolish for even lying about it. 

“We’ll have a ball. I’ll show you all around.” 

“In time,” Coriolanus interjects. The chains around you would not loosen just because you were in the Capitol. “The Capitol is big. There’ll be time to see it all.” 

You let Coriolanus take over the talking. Only offering agreements or soft smiles as the Snow women talk. 

The family soon falls into a comfortable way of talking. You had said next to nothing for the last 10 minutes, and it had gone unnoticed. It was time to make your way. 

You slowly rise from Coriolanus who latches out on your arm. 

“I’ll just put the washing on. That way it will be done by the time we finish.” 

He tugs you back down causing you to fall into him. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Tigris almost cringe. 

“We’ll do it later,” he demands. 

“We’ll be washing well into the night if we leave it any longer. I’ll just pop it on. I’ll be five minutes.”

His face twisted with his words but you kissed him to stop them from leaving his mouth. It was the first time you had ever kissed him on the lips. You could tell by the way his mouth stilled that he was surprised. 

“Five minutes.” You kiss his bottom lip to quell any fight he has in him. Grabbing the phone in the meantime. 

“Tigris. Grandma. I’ll just be 5 Minutes to put the washing on”.

Tigris smiles at you, letting you know that it is fine. You could just barely hear Grandma’am make a comment about how the people in the Capitol don't do their own washing but it is cut off by you shoving the phone back in Coriolanus's hand. 

He cups your face to bring you down for another kiss. 

“Five minutes,” he repeats. 

You smile at him as you pull away. It was too easy, You had won. 

It felt like victory as you picked up the basket and placed it on your hip. You turn back halfway out the door to see he has gone back to talking to his family. 

You don’t make it to the tent. Five steps away from the door and you had dropped the basket and taken off at a fast pace. 

You walk to try not to draw attention to yourself. It worked for the most part. Hardly anyone gave you a glance. You could see the bins coming into sight. Your freedom is just behind them. 

“Hey!” you hear someone call out. You ignore them at first, not thinking they could mean you. But a harsh hold on your arm spun you towards a Peacekeeper. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

“What? Nothing”. Your freedom lay not ten feet away but was hindered by a zealous guard. 

“Where’s Commander Snow?” He held you too tight. It interfered with your clear thinking. 

“The communications tent.” 

“Is that where you should be?”

“No,” you try and tug your arm away from him but his nails dig in. “Let go of me. Let go!” 

“Let’s go ask Commander Snow what you should be doing.” The man starts to drag you along as you dig your feet into the dirt. 

“Let go!” you shout. He was sure to notice you gone soon if he hadn’t already. Time was running out. 

In frustration, you slap the Peacekeeper across the face. 

“How dare you touch me. I’ll tell Commander Snow about this. You’ve hurt me. 

You feel his grip loosen on you but he doesn’t let go completely. 

“No, I haven’t!” he says somewhat fearfully, 

“Commander Snow has asked me to get something for him, and not only have you stopped me from doing that but you hurt me in the process. How do you think he will react to that?” 

You manage to tear free from him and give yourself some distance. 

“I am going to do as he asked me, and you are going to do your duties like you should be doing. Otherwise, I’ll report you to the Commander." 

The Peacekeeper mulls over his course of action before raising his hands.

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. Excuse me.” 

You turn your back on him and quicken your steps to your destination. Making sure the coast is clear, you crawl behind the large bins. You couldn’t see any broken fence behind it. 

Did they find it? Have you just made a fatal mistake?

You continue to crawl, placing your hand on the metal for any movement. 

The chain bends showing cut wire as they bend. Relief washing through you. 

It digs harshly into you as you pull yourself through. 

You could have kissed the dirt on the other side. Freedom. Edmund. 

The guard in the tower above you looks out across the field. You keep under his eyesight as you slide across the fence as quietly as you can. 

It runs out, leaving ten feet of open field before the safety of the forest. Ten feet and then you were free. There was no cover, meaning that the guard could easily spot you if he was looking. 

You say a silent prayer that the guard will keep his focus straight before you take the chance of discovery. 

You leap across the field, throwing yourself upon the first tree you touch. The bark smashed your bruised cheek as you waited for the sirens to sound. 

He mustn’t have seen you. You had got away. 

You take a second to laugh as quietly as you can. Run, a voice in your head told you. You regain your breath and do. You run as fast as you can, taking the backroads back to your home. 

Your lungs burn, willing you to stop but you keep going until your house is in view. You only slow down to stop drawing attention to yourself. 

People had started to return home from work. You could see them as you walked along the back of their houses. You're careful not to be seen. 

The back steps of your place come under your feet, and your caution disappears as you fling yourself into your home. 

Edmund was sitting at the kitchen table dressing a rabbit he caught. 

He stood up. Turning his knife towards you thinking you were an intruder. 

You knew he would never hurt you so you throw your arms around his shoulders despite the threat. 

The knife drops and he takes you into his arms. 

“I was so worried.” he breathed. 

“We have to go. We need to leave,” you state but make no attempt to pull away. 

He does pull away, throwing the rabbit into his hunting sack and picking up his knife. You take his bloody hand and he leads you back out the back door and into the forest. 

The walk to the mountains takes well into the night. You both do it silently. What was there to say? There was still a long road to safety. 

You stay as close as you could to him. Always holding his hand or latched onto his arm. 

The mountain trail is tough and you wonder how he made it up with your mother on his back. He knew the way well, having worked in the mines nearly all his life. He warned you of which boulders were loose, and when you tripped over he caught you as if he almost expected it. 

You were worn out by the time you reached the campsite. Rows and rows of small wooden houses for the miners. All were empty this time of year as it got too dark too early and not light enough too late for the hours they worked. 

You saw a freshly put-out fire and knew that your mother was close. 

“Your mothers in that one,” he pointed to the right cabin, “My family’s in the next one.” 

For the first time in the hour's walk, you tore free from him and ran into your mother's cabin. 

It was a relief to see her sleeping figure. You throw yourself on top of her and begin crying.  

She wakes in fright but knows the figure of her daughter well. She throws her arms around you and joins you in crying. 

You were home. You were safe. 

—---------

As soon as the door closed, Coriolanus felt as if he had made a mistake. He trusted you.

You were better now. Doing well. He could trust you. 

But Tigris’s words made no sense to him. You were coming back. 

He tried to focus on his family but he eyes the door expectantly. 

Dread fills him. How long did it take to put on washing? 

“Coriolanus?” he hears Tigris call.

He dashes out of his chair. He had made a very big mistake. 

“Coriolanus?” the receiver resounds. 

Upon opening the door he is met with his washing by his feet. He takes off running to his apartment. You were sick the other day, maybe you had fallen ill again and taken to bed.

He pushed past Peacekeepers as he ran to his steps. Taking them two at a time he reaches the top and pushes open the unlocked door. It was only ever locked to keep someone in, never someone out. He calls out for you but is met with silence. 

He opened every door along the way to the bedroom, hoping you were just hiding. 

He calls your name again and again until falling silent upon the empty bed. You weren’t here. Coriolanus had made a big mistake. 

Clicking the radio built into the collar of his shirt, he demands that the compound is shut down.

“Has anyone been through the gates?” Both leading officers of the two entryways confirm that no one has. The Peacekeepers are diverted into searching the compound for you.

Coriolanus joins too. He didn’t trust the ability of his Peacekeepers. He searched every nook and cranny of every office and building he could find. His temper flared the longer the search went on. 

You had to be in the compound. How could you have got out?

He returns to his apartment. Maybe you had returned upon hearing the sirens. 

A cat catches his attention as it sits meowing and eating bits of food from the ground that the birds had managed to pick out. 

He had never seen a cat in the compound before. Could it have got in the same way you got out? 

He walks over to search it for any clues it might have but it runs off as he comes closer. 

He chases it behind the bin where he watches it slip through the bent wire in the fence. 

You had got away. Now at large in the districts. 

He sighs deeply before taking his rage out on the back of the bins, bashing and kicking at it until he is forced to lean against it to catch his breath. 

A search party would be sent out, interrogations would be issued. Someone had to have seen you along the way. He would find you and he would bring you home to him. 

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[chosos-mascara]

sired

𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙞 𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - levi is just a regular at your coffee shop - until you're bleeding out, with no other option than to see the true beast he is.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - vampire levi x reader, reader is turned, reader is attacked (not by levi), blood, biting, general vampire stuff, make-out, sex, cunnilingus, spit swallowing and swapping

4.5k words, yes i am reusing this photo of him cuz he's pretty

In this life, blood had run through vein to be taken from others.

Of course, there had been the weight of guilt to burden the shoulder of those who'd drank the life from another, though within the rise of an undead plague, they had began to drink it without regard of memories, pain or pleasure. 

Levi had done the latter; decades spent underground to prey on those in the shadows, brain riddled with disgusting memories of the past.  Erwin had drawn him from this hole and with that, a new life had been birthed. Though, even with a clean slate, ghosts had still remained. 

These hauntings of the past had brought Levi to a simple life, one with routine, and control. An example of this would be his morning tea, always taken from the same shop, with his arrival and departure time as precise as each day would allow. Unfortunately, with a difference in this very schedule, Levi had been six hours late to his local coffee shop, seeing a shift change and new faces. 

You hadn't met the man before you - you were sure of that. Though, when staring into the grey eyes on the other side of the counter, there had been something so hauntingly familiar - or was he just undeniably mesmerising?  There had been an unforgiving and all-encompassing pull toward the stranger; one that had felt both warm and frightening.

"Are you listening?" His voice pulled you from the depths of your daydreams, his face stern and brow furrowed. You cleared your throat, glancing down to your idle finger hovering over the till.  "I'm sorry, sir." An apology had left your lips before a shaking breath, though his abrasive tone would cast your words aside.  "As I said, an earl grey -" He cut himself short with the shake of his head. "And, for the love of God, make sure the water is boiling."

His narrow lips relaxed into a down-turned expression, eyes mulling you over once, and then twice. 

"Did you get that, or do I need to go elsewhere?" 

You blink, lips parting before nodding a response. "Y-yeah." Now trembling, your fingers wrap around a white cup, the other hand moving to grasp a maker pen, though stopping short of the cardboard.  "What's the name?"  "Levi." 

Levi had walked toward the collection counter, one arm crossing over the other, his sight set on your clumsy handwriting and uneasy grip.  Earl grey, boiling water.  You repeated the order to yourself as if a mantra, a tea bag plucked from box, the cup placed beneath the boiler spout. You checked the temperature dial before pouring, allowing the scolding liquid to fill his cup to almost brim, a plastic lid and cardboard sleeve placed over top.

Within a few moments, the tea had been placed on worktop, a pale hand moving to take the drink to palm. 

He didn't thank you before leaving, though with his previous demeanour, you hadn't expected him to.

When Levi had returned days later with the same request, your heart began to beat slightly faster, excitement in vein. The bell had chimed, your eyes moving from the tray of cakes under glass to greet your new customer - and there he'd stood.

As he made his way toward you, you allowed yourself to wonder if he'd returned due to an appreciation of your brew... though with the same hollow stare and frown over lip, you began to assume this shop was more for convenience than a means for enjoyment. 

Just as before, Levi stood with arms crossed and expression cold, and when you'd pushed the cup toward him, he simply turned on heel and left. A sigh escapes you as the weight on your chest suddenly alleviates.

"The weather's nice, isn't it?" 

Your attempt at small talk felt miserable, and with his grey eyes withdrawing from yours to land over countertop, you had mentally slapped yourself. This would be another memory to plague your mind, with another sorry attempt at talking to an attractive customer. 

His brow furrows as he looks to be in thought, before he finally speaks. 

"I don't like the heat." 

Your jaw slackens. For the first time in the past few weeks, the stranger had not just spoken instruction under a condescending tone, but had instead given a genuine answer to a question you had asked. The corner of Levi's mouth quirked upward at your shocked expression.

Locking up had gone well despite a few customers arriving on the minute of closing, with yourself rushing to clean machine and table. Money was counted, lights switched off, and key placed into lock before you would begin your journey home. 

Street lights illuminated your path, your shadow cast beside you as each begrudgingly slow step brings you closer to your destination. Tinny earphones supply you with a soundtrack while your mind replays the images of you jumping into bed after a long day, sheets pulled to shoulder as you would close your eyes to rest. 

The last stretch of road before your home drew closer, the concrete growing a little less clean and evened out when approaching your neighbourhood. A path you had ventured many times throughout both day and night, one you were sure you could navigate through a blindfold. You glance over the patches of grass among grey pavement, a few trees standing only slightly taller than yourself. In summer, they would bloom green leaves with wild flowers at their root, though on winter nights like this one, they would only shield the unknown.

A shadow slouches parallel to your path on the other side of the road, one with a presence you wouldn't recognise on first glance, though wouldn't yet alarm you. Seeing another at this time of night wasn't particularly unusual; a busy town on a Thursday evening had some form of nightlife, although when seeing the figure's odd gait, your feet did move slightly faster. 

There was a hint of apprehension with your movements, though you had ultimately decided on keeping your gaze straight and arriving home with haste. It wouldn't be too much farther now, though when glancing over shoulder to see the emptiness of the other side of the road, dread filled you to core. 

A sudden weight is born over your shoulder, a sharp pain in neck. Although you begin to thrash, a pair of arms hold you still, the sting of what felt to be a bite allows warmth to seep from your body, exhaustion dousing you. 

At some point, you are freed enough to allow you to stumble forward, slumping toward pavement. Your hand flies to the wound on your neck, alarm rushing through you upon the realisation you were losing a lot of blood, fingers slipping around the puncture holes to be coated in crimson. 

A numbness begins to spread through your body, a coldness enveloping you. 

You lay back to the pavement, head turning to side as you try your best to press into the injury in attempts to stop the bleeding, though with your vision turning blurry, you weren't sure how effective your weakening grasp would be. Focusing your altered vision, you can make out two figures before you, one looking to be the same hooded shadow you'd seen across the road, the second having a recognisable silhouette, though you couldn't quite put your finger on where you'd seen that coat before, and the black slacks, perfectly tailored to meet ankle -

You had blinked only once, you'd felt sure of that. But, it looked as if minutes had passed before you, the two figures now separated, one left to only a heap on the floor. There was a presence beside you, and with racing heart, you turned to meet their view. 

The stranger looks to be Levi, your crush from the shop, and over the ringing of your ears, it'd sounded a lot like him, too. Just as you'd fallen to unconsciousness, you could've sworn his eyes had changed from grey to red, two canines elongated to look much like the fangs of a vampire.

Heavy lids flutter between that of dream and reality as you stir, harsh pavement feeling much softer than you had remembered. Though as you came to, memory foam supporting your body, you were quick to realise that the warmth engulfing your body had not been that of cement floor, but a bed that hadn't felt much like your own.

With the cloud over your eyes fading, you set your sights on the plain ceiling above, with a slow drift down to the thick sheets draped over your person. Your scent had been the second to last sense to return - the smell of cedarwood and pine. 

Your home had been many things, but none of these attributes had felt at all familiar. Not a spec of dust in sight, nor blemish... The only thing that had been certain was your confusion at the current situation, and paired with the jumbled events of the night prior, you had been left to wonder how you had ended up in such room.

And finally, you are graced with the sensation of pain. 

Your neck throbbed, a tingling feeling to flow into vein, and perhaps the beginnings of a fever. There was a reluctance in your movements as your hand had made way to the wound, a withdrawal from the spot much before you'd come to cup it. Would the skin be mauled and tattered? 

Memories flash before you - thick blood pooling over your neck, the sensation of all life leaving your body. You brace yourself as your fingers finally fly to the injury, though you are left to feel dissatisfied by the bandage covering the skin; a barrier to your true condition. Previous events are farthest from vivid, though in the midst of searching your mind, you find a fragment of certainty - the stranger from the coffee shop. Black hair left to fall over brow, concerned grey eyes turning to resemble that of beast with pointed fangs. 

The wound throbbed as you remembered now, that taste of iron within your own mouth. How had that come to be?

As you sit upright, the room spins. Despite this, you allow a single leg to drop to the floor, followed shortly by the other, your weakened arms pushing from mattress to start your investigation. This home's walls had acted as your crutch as you'd moved to leave the bedroom, soon making it through the door, fingers still grazing plaster as you willingly make your way into the unknown. 

The corridor is been clean, walls plain in colour with a few paintings mounted proudly. They look to be expensive, though you don't marvel, instead moving closer to an explanation. 

"You're up." 

The words jolt you to core, eyes widening in both shock and fear as you turn to look over your shoulder, Levi standing a mere few feet from your own trembling body. One glance over his lips cause your throat to constrict, a shallow gasp pushes from chest as you felt to lose your balance, falling down onto the floor. 

You remember now, the fear you'd felt with a figure's teeth far into your throat, and how it had felt to have your very life drained from your soul.  You saw how Levi had torn your attacker from your being, only to seat himself beside you as you'd felt close to taking your last few breaths - how sporadic they'd been. 

He'd taken his own wrist to his mouth, a redness over lips as he'd pulled the appendage away only to force his mouth to yours, a red ambrosia forced over your tongue to douse your throat in burning liquid. You'd screamed against him, you'd thrashed and cried, though within only moments your eyes had felt heavy, the poison suddenly lulling you into security.

Levi despises the look you give him now, the horror and pain twisted in your face. It had been a look he'd seen few times before, though hadn't had to endure in a long while. He hadn't missed the fear he'd caused others.

"I won't hurt you." His arm raises as he takes a step toward your frightened body, voice timid. His hand reaches yours, ice cold skin wrapping over you to offer aid. Calming yourself, you stand.

"You can leave if you want." Your neck thrums as you stare at him, and if not for his sincere expression, you would have tested this offer. He squeezes gently over your fingers, mouth ajar. He knows you remember what he is, and what he'd done. You need an explanation.

"But... shit." Levi's eyes leave yours as he exhales. "There's something you need to know." You raise a brow, chest tightening. "What is it?" Anxiety courses through you as you retract your hand from his, moving it over your bandaged throat. 

"The thing that bit you," There's a waver in his voice, and a change in tone. "He took a lot of blood, and you were close to dying." You nod apprehensively. "I had to feed you my own, but it's been a while so I didn't realise..." His eyes close. "You would have died, if I didn't-" 

"I'm one of you?" Levi shifts uncomfortably before you, head tipping forward. 

"Not just that - tch." He's unable to find another way to put it, but searches his mind in desperation for an answer. The situation pains him in many ways, yet the worst factor had to be the intimacy. Levi had managed to find his way around alone until now, and with this, everything may change. 

"We - our kind... We can create bonds with others. One that can link two souls as one, or at least, sire two souls together. It means you can feel another person's presence at all times." At last, he raises his gaze from the floor, looking into your eyes. "You're now tethered to me." 

The news sinks in slowly, butterflies within your stomach as you sense the connection he speaks of. There had been some hesitance too, but this had stemmed from the limited understanding of what this label would entail, and what this existence would involve. As you stared at him, you grew used to this sensation - the feeling of his soul. It felt cold and somewhat indistinct, but when you focused your mind to it, it was there. 

"I feel different." The phrase resembled more of a whisper than a clear statement, and Levi had shared this uneasiness within himself, too. It hadn't just been this attachment, but your senses had felt heightened, sounds felt louder and colours felt brighter. As you peered over his face, drifting toward his neck, you could sense where his vein had been most open, where you want so desperately to sink your teeth. 

"I do, too." Levi searches your eyes to find an answer he wasn't sure he'd find, with a step toward you. "I can feel your very being." As he edges closer, his hand outstretched, his fingers brush over your hair, finally skimming over your cheek. 

You stare into him, and for a moment you feel yourself lean forward too, but it's as if reality takes its brittle hold over his heart, and he pulls away.  "You need to eat." The statement weighs on you, and as he strides toward another room, you feel your body ache for his touch. 

You aren't sure whether or not to follow him when he disappears, so you instead await his return, or further instruction. He reemerges not long after, a glass in hand. Only when he's closer do you notice the thickness of the glass, and the distinct red. It had been blood. 

You take a step back, breath in your throat as he pushes the glass toward you. Although you try to fight, he places a hand to the back of your head, rendering you unable to move. The glass rim is forced to your lips, the blood pouring thickly to your tongue, and you have no other choice but to swallow. 

It's bitter, and runs like honey down your throat, thick, and heavy. Despite your mental apprehension, your body reacts, gulping back the fluid with heavy eyes. When it's finished, you feel awfully satisfied. 

"Was it... human?" Although you hadn't wanted to truly know, there was a need to ask. Relief seeped through you when he shook his head, sighing.  "We source animal blood. It gets you through the day, but the hunger isn't satiated for long. You will feel a pull toward humans - you just have to fight the urge." 

"What about other beings like us?" 

Levi stirs, his expression souring. "It wouldn't quench thirst unless they had drank from a human. It's more of a... sexual act than one of hunger." 

The skin of your chest feels hot as you watch his lips form the words, and images of intimacy with Levi plague your mind. You remember the distinctness of the blood he had fed to you fresh from wrist - the twang, and the warmth. 

Moments pass by quickly as you move toward him, body acting much faster than the constraints of your mind. Imagery of his blood pooling over your tongue had flashed before your eyes as your lips met with the thick of his neck, face pulled into the crook and elongated teeth brushing the flesh. 

Levi could have stopped you, your frame much weaker than his, but he'd held back to allow you a taste. He knew the hunger too well, and paired with the guilt he'd felt for turning you, he would allow you to take more than you should.

But, you pull back sooner than he'd anticipated, skin stained crimson with his blood. He couldn't stop himself from connecting himself with you, not when you'd worn his life so beautifully over your lips.

This kiss wasn't much like the last, with your half conscious state and his frantic attempts at saving you, it hadn't felt much of a meaningful moment. Now, here with you, his body connecting with your own and the taste of his own livelihood on your lips, Levi felt freed. Freed of this lonely existence, and free from the sorrow path he'd aligned himself upon. 

His lips were cold, yet soft, slipping between your own to grow closer to you. With the initial movements there had been modesty and restraint, yet as you tasted more of him, passion had ignited. 

Levi presses his tongue to yours, hand snaking to hold the back of your head and tilt you to reach deeper limits. He swiped himself over you, roaming your mouth to try his blood mingling with your taste. 

As Levi found himself losing control against you, he held on tighter and kissed with more force and roughness - fangs clashing over yours when they find their way to scrape your bottom lip. The sensation pulls a timid hum from your chest and Levi groans in response, hardness pressing uncomfortably against his trouser as your own blood trickles into his mouth. 

At some point, you end up against a wall, Levi leaning himself against you with need, unhinged rocks of hip to find friction against your clothed body. Pulling back breathlessly, his hand remains upon your cheek.  "I can't control myself around you." His voice is smooth against your ear, lips grazing the skin of your cheek.  "You don't have to." Your words are quiet but he hears them clearer than day, humming against you. 

He takes a step back to regain composure, and you are left to look to him with doe eyes, a tightness in your chest with burning desire. Silently, Levi takes your hand, leading you back into the room you had awoken in not too long ago, stopping beside the bed. His hand runs from yours to trail over your arm, stopping at your shoulder. 

"At least allow me to take you within a bed - I would have fucked you against that wall if you'd have let me." 

Heat prickles your body at his words, though cool air soon meets warmth as he undresses you, discarding your clothes with his own over the floor before you're on the mattress beneath him. 

Levi found it difficult to restrain himself from marking your skin, instead dragging teeth over neck, or flicking tongue to kiss flesh. Your fingers laced within his hair, gently tugging him back to your lips, kissing him with fervour. Saliva glides from your tongue to his, but he drinks it back as if depraved, intoxicated within your taste. You could feel his frenzied state worsening as he licks and nips over you, a clear need to have you in more ways than one. Blood had been a vampire's hunger, both in ways of food and passion, and you had wanted to play with fire.

"You can..." Your confidence fizzles quickly on tongue as you meet his eye, a new wave of anxiety washing over your body. Red irises stare back at you, though in sensing your unease, they slowly fade back to grey. "You can drink from me." The permission you grant to him is one rooted in edge, your muscles tensing when awaiting his reply. 

A puff of air leaves his nose in what feels to be amusement.  "You don't know what you're offering." There's a seriousness in his voice, led by his own reluctance.  "I know you were thinking about it." A stillness warms the room as the statement leaves you.

He shakes his head, leaning forward to kiss you. This time, the movements are languid, a slow-moving pace to instead take time in roaming the mouth of the other. As fluid had been swapped between each tongue, it grows thicker, and a moan catches within your throat. 

Fingertips had breached the hem of your underwear at a point in time you can't quite pin, but you permit the tugging of fabric to drag past your knee, exposing yourself to the cursed being before you. His gaze drops to the bareness before him, a stripe over folds with his fingers. Levi allows his lips to hover over your flesh before he finally lowers himself between thigh, palms spreading you wider to make room for his face. He delves forward, tongue meeting with hardened bud to swirl circles over you.

His name passes your lips, back arching, and Levi rolls his hips over the comforter for some form of relief. As his tongue flicks over you, you are left to whine beneath his touch, hand entrapping your mouth in an attempt to muffle the mews spewing from you. Fingertips brushed your entrance, ring and middle circling the hole before finally teasing in, and you writhe in his sheets. When you roll yourself over his tongue he groans, fingers curving. 

"Fuck, don't stop." Panting, you beg his mercy, feeling close to falling over the edge. He scissors his fingers slightly, stretching you as he moves them in and out, and with the way his tongue is moving you're unable to restrain from the high you begin to feel. He adds a third, and you scream out in relief, stuttering hips as you come undone beneath him. 

When you come down, he's already on his knees with his cock free, pushing the head against your throbbing clit.  "Ever since I saw you in that shitty shop, I've pictured you beneath me."  His head is rubbing against your slit to gather the juices left, and a shaky breath leaves your lips. Levi places his fingers on your chin to tilt your mouth open, watching your face contort in confusion. 

He spits between your parted lips before closing your lips, edging himself into you while looking within your eye.  "Swallow." The command was impossible to defy, so you do as he requests, watching as his lips quirk into a smirk.

Levi forces his length forward, thickness finally nestled within your walls. He rocks himself gently at first, though soon looses himself within you as your chest rises and falls at rapid pace, body welcoming his every inch. Your gaze drops to his fangs, finger reaching toward them in curiosity, allowing your skin to be pierced by the needle like ends. Blood rushes to the small puncture, only a pinprick, though Levi was quick to respond, his tongue darting from lip to taste the crimson offering.

With one taste, he craved more. After the sire bond, your blood had tasted uniquely different, reflecting more of his own. He's unable to stop himself from biting into your wrist, puncturing vein and wrapping his mouth around the source. He groans deeply, eyes rolling upward as he ruts his hips much harsher than he'd done before, allowing himself to indulge within your taste. 

When he removes himself from your skin, a single droplet rolls from wrist to elbow - but Levi cannot allow the smallest amount of your nectar to waste, his tongue darting along the length to leave not a stain over your arm.

His cock twitches inside you as your head tilts back in pleasure, legs tightening around him. He can feel himself grow closer to release, though has one last offering to you. 

Levi brings his finger to fang, piercing the skin in a similar fashion to your prior display, placing the digit straight to your lip. He smears his blood over your lips, and you too mimic his actions from before, eyes locking with his own as you wrap your lips around his finger, sucking before the pop of your lips releases him.

You pull his face to yours, pushing the mixture of blood and saliva to his mouth. He groans in reply, much deeper than before, thrusts growing messy as he allows your tongue to dance with his. Levi's breaths were sporadic as he came within you, pushing himself as far as he could, squeezing over your flesh as his body ached.

The veil over his eye had began to lift as he laid himself beside you, brain no longer clouded - though he still felt an unusual lull of safety within your presence. He pinned it to the sire bond, soothing him into trusting your soul as it had linked with his own. 

If his heart had still beat, he was sure it would feel differently while in your presence, and for the first time in decades, he allows himself to wonder what life would be like if he was still human. 

"Earlier, when you told me I could leave," The silence was broken with our voice, still hoarse. "I didn't want to." There was a small dip in your words as you fought with your own understanding of the situation. "Why? Why do I feel this way toward you when you're still a stranger?" 

He exhales, staring up at the ceiling. "It's the bond." His words won't offer much insight as he barely understands it himself, though he feels himself needing to comfort you. "I brought you back here to rest, but only when you'd awoken had I realised what had happened." 

"How will this work?" Your words are gentle, but the question hangs stagnant in the air.

"I don't know, this is a first for me."

a/n: for some reason, after a break in writing, staying in present tense felt really hard?? please excuse me if i messed up, i feel like this is so inconsistent

[daisynik7]

cw: fluff, established relationship, suggestive at the end

Author’s Note: this drabble was inspired by my snookums @dprkento because we were talking about building forts together the other day and I thought how cute would it be if we did that for husband!Nanami?! anyways, ily, thank you for always making me feel so special and loved. Divider by @/cafekitsune.

It’s been a stressful week for both you and your husband, more so for Nanami though, who has worked overtime nearly every day since Monday. When Friday finally arrives, you come up with an idea to help the two of you unwind. It’s a bit unconventional, maybe even a little childish, but you have a good feeling that it’s just what he needs. 

Around seven in the evening, you hear the familiar jingle of keys from the other side of the front door. You crawl out from under your creation, chest thumping with excitement, unsure how he’ll react to all of this. Waiting by the entrance, the door swings open to reveal Nanami, eyes tired, shoulders hunched, the aura of an overworked man surrounding him. He shrugs his jacket off, hanging it on the coat rack while he removes his shoes. When he sees you, his expression brightens, a small smile forming on his lips, always happy to be home. You greet him with a warm embrace, wrapping your arms around his torso, squeezing him tight. He nuzzles his nose to the top of your head, inhaling your scent, exhaling a heavy sigh. “Hi.”

You giggle into his chest then peer up at him. “You sound exhausted.”

“I am exhausted,” he admits, bowing down to kiss you on the lips.

“Have I got the perfect surprise for you then,” you say, smirking. 

He stares at you with a brow raised, curious. “Oh no, what now?” You’ve got another trick up your sleeve, keeping him on his toes. And while he pretends to be hesitant at first, he always looks forward to whatever you have in store for him. 

Tugging on his hand, you lead him into the living room, where your masterpiece awaits. “Ta-da!” You hold your arms out, presenting the pillow fort you constructed for him. The base is made of the chairs you dragged all the way from the dining table, concealed by mismatched throw blankets laid out on top of each other to act as the roof. The interior is designed with every pillow you could find lying around the house atop the thickest comforter you have to provide enough cushioning. The finishing touch is your favorite stuffed animal sitting in the corner inviting you in, the same one that Nanami won for you years ago after spending far too much time and money on a crane machine to get it. 

His lips are parted in surprise, inspecting each inch of it carefully. When he doesn’t have any response, you nudge with your elbow. “Well, what do you think?”

He kneels down at the entrance, appreciating the interior, eyes wide with wonder. “You built this? For me?”

“For us,” you correct him, beaming. “I thought we could give up on being adults for a night and relive our childhood.”

He chuckles, crawling inside, his muscular body filling up nearly the entire space. “I never built a fort like this when I was kid. This is a first for me.” Loosening his tie, he rolls over on his back, leaning his head into the pillows, finally relaxed. He waves over to you, beckoning you to join him. 

“Hold on. Let me get the snacks.” You shuffle towards the kitchen counter, gathering all the treats you prepared for tonight: chips, candies, even a box of pizza from one of your go-to restaurants. You dump all the food near the entrance of the fort and shimmy beside your husband, laying the pizza flat on your laps. He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek before grabbing a slice to indulge on. 

When you finish dinner, you set up a laptop on a small standing tray near your feet, snuggling closer to Nanami, who has since removed his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt. From your peripheral, you can tell he’s not paying attention to the movie. Instead, his focus is on you. 

Still facing the screen, you grin. “What?”

He hums, leaning in closer, his mouth hot on your skin, not answering. He places a delicate kiss on your neck, lingering as his hand slides across your thighs, slipping between your legs. “Kento,” you breathe out, turning towards him, capturing his lips with yours. 

“Thank you for this,” he whispers between kisses, sliding his other hand beneath your shirt and up your back, fingers at the clasp of your bra. “I love you.”

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to undress and christen the pillow fort properly. As Nanami cradles you in his arms, watching you sleep against his chest, he admires the fort one last time before slipping into a peaceful slumber with a smile on his face. 

[creativeboxesblog]

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[1-800-papaya]

Southern Caffeine (RI)

Jay Halstead x Baker!Reader Warnings: None i think

Author note: As always, feedback is greatly appreciated

Lemon Drops Cafe and Bakery. Big bright yellow and white letters read, and slight lemon decals surrounded the sign. Jay checked his phone before entering the shop; Hailey had insisted that the ex-army ranger get the morning coffee from the new bakery since the one in the break room was utterly broken. Pushing the glass door open, a light twinkle of a bell announced Jay’s presence. A head popped through the doorway that seemed to lead to the kitchens.

“I’ll be with you in a second.” A southern drawl stunned Jay.

The inside of the bakery was just as cozy as the exterior. Clusters of yellow chairs were pushed into three wooden tables, each bearing a yellow and white lemon tablecloth and varying-sized pillow. Along the opposite wall rests a series of tall displays, most filled with either what smelt like fresh loaves or display cakes. Turning more towards the counter, Jay noticed that in between the large coffee machine and the small portion of the counter dedicated to the register was a large display cupboard partially filled with cookies, cupcakes and some savory treats. Along the wall behind the counter, Jay could see an assortment of coffee bean bags that looked like they had yet to be packed away in the above cupboard and potted plants. The bakery overwhelmingly filled Jay with a sense of calm, and he loved the welcoming, cozy, homely environment that Hailey had sent him into.

A young woman soon walked out of the kitchen doorway and greeted Jay warmly. Her Y/H/C was haphazardly thrown into a bun, and a yellow ribbon wrapped around the tie. She wore a white short-sleeved shirt beneath a pale yellow apron and chocolate brown pants. Her apron was covered in white dashes of flour and smudges of frosting and chocolate. The pin on her apron read Y/N, a sticker of a small bundle of lemons decorating the rest of the pin. When Jay’s eyes reached her face, he took note of the imperfect splash of flour that dusted her cheeks and the bright smile that graced her features.

“Good Morning. What can I get ya?” Her voice was perfectly airy and sweet, like the melody of his favorite song. For once, the voice wasn’t dull or uninterested; instead, it sounded like she genuinely wanted to be covered in flour dust and chocolate smudges at nearly 6:30 in the morning.

“Four large double shot coffees and Hailey Upton’s usual.” He recited the order that Hailey had given him only ten minutes earlier. Jay moved to open his wallet to pay when Y/N simply shook her head.

“No need to pay, it’s on the house.” Her smile was blinding as she moved further down to the coffee machine, Jay following.

“At least let me tip you or something”, Jay argued as the women moved expertly around the small area, quickly making the coffee’s and packing a small box full of freshly baked treats.

“Please, this is the least I can do for you guys”, she spoke, “Besides, that would be breaking my own rules” " she said, pointing towards the large poster plastered above the register. Jay followed her finger and shook his head as he read the sign.

‘Cops, Firefighters, Doctors and Nurses, drinks and treats are on the house, No exceptions!!’

“My dad was a ranger and taught me the value of first responders, so when I started my business, I made it a rule that those who protect us, normal people, from our stupidity would never have to pay. Plus, I make enough profit to cover it anyway.” As she pushed the box and cup tray towards Jay, she gestured to the jar on the counter next to the register, “But if your conscience won’t let you leave without leaving a tip, then here, donate to this month’s charity, the Chicago police fund” Jay practically swooned over her smile this time. pushing a few large bills into the jar, Jay left the cafe with a dopey smile and a mental promise never to get coffee anywhere else.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Flufftober prompt 3: Sick (Adam)

you can find the list here ! not much to say in the notes because im writing all of these MOOOOOONTHS in advance! plot: Adam is sick and you take it upon yourself to look after him for the day, he verbally lashes out and seems to feel bad notes: reader is gn, established relationship, adam is the sick one in this fic, very ooc but hush hush word count: 960 cws: sickness :(

Adam had fallen ill. How, you weren’t entirely sure. You didn’t even know that angels could get sick- at least the ones that come from human souls. Being the caring partner you are, you have taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on him and tend to his every need until he was fully recovered. Not that it was particularly hard, he was more than willing to lay down in bed as soon as his symptoms started.

His attitude, on the other hand… 

Your hand gripped the ladle as you poured soup into a bowl as Adam’s wet and rough voice called out for you. You grit your teeth and steel yourself for the upcoming interaction. 

Despite his eagerness to take a few days off, he was a pain when he was ill. Understandable, but he was prone to lashing out at others. You grab a sleeve of crackers and walk down the hall to the bedroom. 

His attitude wasn’t terrible, at least not compared to how he acts with others- excluding yourself- but he’d find himself snapping at you more than he.. Probably… intended.. 

He looked terrible. His skin was pale and dark circles rested under his eyes. Each movement seemed to take effort, each slow and sluggish- almost as if he were underwater. His arms fell effortlessly across his chest as he pulled his hands over his face to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. It was all a useless attempt to adjust them to the light of the hall behind you. 

You close the door behind you and shuffle towards the side of the bed. 

“I’ve got you some soup,” You mumbled as you pulled the chair closer, balancing the plate in your hand. You feel around between the nightstand and the bed, tugging out a tray to hold the soup. 

“Here,” 

“I can fucking see that.” Adam hissed lowly as he tried to push himself up. You ignore his tone, instead busying yourself with setting the tray. 

You place down the bowl and crackers, the spoon clinking against the glass- you make a note of how Adam recoils away from the sound. You make a mental note to find some ibuprofen for him soon.

“How are you feeling? You don’t look as bad as yesterday,”

You put a hand behind his back and help prop him up, stuffing pillows between him and the bed’s headboard. He took a long breath, it sounded… 

You frown as you tune out the sound, and take a spoonful of soup. You let it drip over the bowl, before resting your hand under it to prevent any from spilling onto Adam. “Take a guess.” He nearly growled, swallowing hard before he opened his mouth for you. Your brows furrowed at him, and he seemed to soften as he let the warm fluid slip down his throat. His eyes darted away from you as you moved to get another spoonful. “I feel like shit,” He added after a moment. 

“I'm planning on going to the store later to pick some things up, is there anything in particular you need?” You push on. 

His knuckle lightly drums against the support of the tray, glazed eyes looking at the spoon as you bring it closer to him. He takes it once more, and licks his chapped lips before speaking.

“Painkillers would be nice,”

“I’ve already got that in mind,” You offer a smile. He stares at you for a minute before snatching the spoon from your hand. “I can feed myself, I’m not some snot nosed brat.” 

You bite your tongue for a moment, taking note of the used up box of tissues on the nightstand. You’ll pick up another box while you’re away.

“You seem to be getting better,” You lean back in the chair and watch him feed himself. Weakened glare be damned, this was better than most of the things he could do on his own the past few days. Drumming your fingers on your knees, you scan the room. Used tissues were tossed into a nearby waste bin, and the emergency bucket he had been given remained empty. At least four empty water bottles were strewn across the bed. 

Your hands flatten on your thighs, and you push yourself up to your feet. “You can leave the bowl on the nightstand, I’ll let you finish eating…” You pause, “It’s okay if you can’t eat it all, I’ll deal with it when I come back,” You turn towards the door.

“Where are you going?” He asked through a mouthful of carrot. 

“I need to clean up the kitchen and put away the rest of the soup, then I’ll run out to the store… Painkillers was all you needed right? Doesn’t matter what kind?” You stop at the doorway. 

His eyes flick to the soup, then to you, then they lowered to his lap. 

“Yeah,” He worked his jaw, spoon held loosely in his hand. 

You give him a thumbs up and step into the hall. “Noted, boss man!” You hear him click his teeth at you. “Just give me a call if you need anything” and with that you closed the door behind you, leaving Adam alone in bed with his thoughts. 

Unbeknownst to you, he’d turn the short interaction in his head until his body forced him to sink back into sleep. He didn’t mean to be so short with you. His fingers twitched as his mind bounced between each word he said to you. They were nowhere near as bad as some of the things he’s said to others. Tame, even. Yet you still smiled at him despite his growls. 

His hand pulls itself back to his face and drags across the skin. He really hated being sick.

[coqxettee]

Coquette Winter Gift Guide:

🎀 Gift ideas for yourself or your friends who love the Coquette aesthetic:

Clothes/Fashion:

1. Anything from Brandy Melville (Amara heart lace pyjamas)

2. Bailey bow uggs or normal uggs

3. Ralph Lauren sweaters

4. A ballet wrap

5. Floral pyjama sets, Cami’s & Long sleeve shirts

6. Grandma cardigans

7. A cable knit sweater

8. Legwarmers/pretty tights

9. A pair of cute gloves

10. ANY clothing from “Mymummadeit”

11. ANY clothing from “Favourite child collective”

12. Any clothing from the “Cutey” section on Romwe

13. A dress/anything from “Selkie”

14. Any slogan tee’s / baby tee’s from small businesses and independent brands

15. Victoria secret Pyjamas/Robe

16. Pink puffa coat

17. Tiffany & co earrings or necklace

18. The “Mymummadeit” puffa bag

19. Kate spade heart bag/Vivienne Westwood one or just a heart purse

20. A printed tote bag

21. Ted baker bags/cosmetic bags

22. Any dresses from - Cider, Motel rocks, Pretty little thing, Oh polly

23. A ballet skirt

24. ECOSUSI summer garden romance bags

25. A cape/fur shaul//A glam doll coat

26. Vintage nightgowns/nightwear

27. Cute earmuffs & things to decorate them with

28. Mary Janes & frilly ankle socks

Beauty:

29. Any products from “Glossier”

30. Dior (addict) makeup products (Lip oil’s, Blush, lip balm,

31. Anything from “Flowerknows” “Etude house” “Too faced” or “Charlotte Tilbury” “C beauty mall products”

32. Chanel lipstick

33. A quilted floral coquette makeup bag

34. W7 Tinted kiss lip oil

35. Miss Dior perfume

36. Chanel mamoiselle perfume

37. Any of the Ariana Grande perfumes/body sprays

38. Penhaligons “The favourite”

39. Oriana “Parfums de Marly”

40. Victoria secret body sprays

41. Paul & Joe Cinamoroll collection

Homeware:

42. The Amazon floral bedsheets

43. A heart mirror

44. Love shack fancy homeware items

45. Anything from Paris Hilton’s new cookery line

46. A ballerina/music box jewellery box

47. Pink/Vanilla Yankee candles

48. FreePrints photos to make a wall collage

49. Roccoco style picture frames

50. An angel tray dish

51. Fake flowers

52. Pretty Cushions / A large throw fluffy blanket,

53. Caroline medium jewellery case

54. Fake cake jewellery boxes

55. Tall candles and a candle holder

56. Posters of celebrity’s/artists etc

57. Any pretty art that can be displayed/put into frames

Self care:

58. Spa headbands, and wrist bands (Kylie skin headband)

59. Inn is free skincare products

60. Philosophy shower and skin products

61. Chanel eye patches

62. Mulberry silk eye mask (pink)

63. Look fantastic heartless hair curlers

64. Dior prestige skin products and body lotions

65. Baylis & Harding products

66. Angel tangle brush

67. Charlotte Tilbury skincare gift sets

68. Elasti - cream

69. Embellished claw clips

70. Sol de Janerio body cream

71. Mugs, hand warmers, face masks, lip scrubs

Miscellaneous: ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚

72. AirPod max

73. Wildflower phone cases & airpod cases

74. A pink waterbottle (Stanley or Lululemon)

75. Lana del rey vinyls

76. Coquette notebooks

77. Dior & Chanel fashion books

78. My year of rest and relaxation

79. The seven husbands of Evelyn Hugo

80. Jellycats

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

I hope this helped you think of some ideas of things you want to ask or get someone for Christmas 🎀✨🎄

Merry Pinkmas coquette doves

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

[cyborg-franky]

Just a little something for my boy's birthday as this year I have been too busy to do much of anything. I normally bake ugly cakes for him and Ace haha but this year I am just, the living dead. Excuse errors, my laptop and checker are at odds with one another atm.

Modern AU SFW Marco x GN Reader

You sat in the small coffee shop, enjoying the ambiance. It was quiet, a little off the beaten path, down one of the narrow side streets. If you knew where to look it was a perfect hidden gem. You and Marco loved this place. You had your first date here all those years ago. 

Looking around you took in everything, the stylish decor and the rows upon rows of books that customers could read. A few people were on laptops or sitting with coffee and were deeply involved with a book. The sounds were pleasing, the clinks and claks of cups and sauces. The music that played over the sounds of the coffee machines was enjoyable.

You took a breath, the smells were delicious. You loved a fresh pastry in the morning. You were so distracted by your people-watching that you didn’t notice Marco approach the table. You jumped, startled when he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Miles away, little bird?” he said with a lop-sided grin, his tired eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You didn’t have to sneak up on me,” you huffed but melted into the arms that wrapped around you. “Want your regular?” he asked and you nodded before tugging his shirt sleeve. “Excuse me but I’m paying. It’s your birthday after all!”

“What? And deprive me the joy of treating my pretty bird?” Marco replied with a smooth timber to his voice as his sly smirk grew, enjoying how you flustered before standing. “Just sit down,” you rolled your eyes, cheeks flushed. 

You weren’t mad, far from it. You liked his energy and laid-back attitude, even if it was tinged with a little cockyness. You adored it.

You returned with a tray, setting it down as he helped unload the two drinks and the slices of cake. “Here,” you set his piece of cake down. “Perfect, thank you!”

He smiled brightly and you could feel yourself falling in love all over again. You sat back down and felt his hand on your knee, a comforting feeling. He felt safe, he felt like home. 

The two of you chatted, catching up on the busy week you’d both just had. A few drinks later you pulled out a box. It was neatly wrapped in pineapple print paper and a big blue bow. You handed it to him and he seemed confused. “You didn’t have to get me anything…”

“You say that every year and I ignore it. Now open it!” You said with a grin and leaned forward on the table, knowing he would love it. 

Marco chuckled and started to rip open the paper, he wasn’t as neat and tidy as most people assumed. You picked up the scattered paper, watching him pull the lid off the box. You watched his expression as he lifted the beautiful sweater. It was blue and teal, warm and cozy. He rolled the fabric between his fingers with a content sigh. “So soft,” he hummed and held to his chest, showing it off.

“You complained that your comfort sweater is getting old, so I thought this was your style and would keep you warm,” you explained as he folded it back. “I love it. Thank you so much.” He shuffled closer and pulled you against him, kissing the side of your head as he wrapped an arm around you.

“Happy birthday, Marco, I love you,” 

“I love you too baby bird,” 

[russellsppttemplates]

Could you do a Lance blurb where Lance is responsible for making dinner with the help of Margot and Addalynn to let the reader rest after Genevieve's birth and the three decide to make the reader's favorite food and when he returns from the market with the girls with things to start cooking and at the end, in addition to surprising her with the dessert which is a strawberry cake that they saw at the market which is the reader's favorite and she is grateful and a little moved by what Lance and the girls are doing for her

"I'm going to take those two out to the park - hopefully it will wear them out", Lance said as he watched you feed Genevieve.

"Oh, that would be nice - bedtime will be easier", you sighed as you rocked on the chair.

"Bye mummy! Bye Viv!", Addalynn and Margot waved as Lance kissed the top of the baby's head and then your own.

"The park is that way, daddy!", Addalynn pointed as Lance continued to drive.

"Actually, we're not going to the park, girls - I thought we could make dinner for mummy, so we're going to get the ingredients to make her favourite and then we're going to make it for her. How does that sound?", he mused.

"We can go to the park on another day - maybe after Viv gets her vaccines? Mummy said she's still too little to interact with the big germs", Margot reasoned, "I like the idea!".

After getting all of the ingredients, Addalynn spotted your favourite strawberry cake in one of the stands, "daddy, we should get a cake for mummy!", she pulled on his sleeve.

"Sure, love! Let me just put his in the bag", Lance stated as he arranged the ingredients in the tote bag.

Margot, however, noticed what her sister had also seen. There was only one cake left and they couldn't let anyone else take it.

"Hi, I'm Margot and I need that cake, please!", Margot told the lady at the stand.

"Hello, darling! The strawberry one?", the lady smiled as she pointed.

"Yes, it's for my mummy! She had our baby sister and we're making her dinner and this cake is her favourite!", Margot offered as she noticed Lance approaching them, "daddy! I got here in time to get the cake!", she smiled.

"You couldn't wait, could you?", he spoke to the girls, touching their heads and looking up at the lady, "I'm sure these two have told you, but we want to get the strawberry cake, please", he smiled.

"They did - you have such cute girls. They just told me about their baby sister - congratulations!", she smiled as she put it in the box.

"Thanks", Lance smiled, paying with money and getting the girls to say goodbye to the lovely lady.

Back home, Lance closed all the doors that led to the nursery so the noise wouldn't be too loud while they cooked, "so it says to leave the pasta on the side because it's fresh", Lance sorted out while the meat cooked.

"Have you ever made lasagna, daddy?", Addalynn wondered. Whenever you made it, the kitchen didn't look this messy.

"A couple of times with grandma and then some more with mummy, why?", he asked.

"Nothing - I'm going to get cheese", she offered.

By the time the tray was out of the oven, the lasagna was nice and golden brown and it smelled delicious.

As if on cue, you walked downstairs with Genevieve on your chest, wrapped in the sling ad you followed the smell, "what are you three up to?", you asked as you walked into the dining room.

"Surprise mummy!", Margot said, "Addy, Daddy and I made your favourite lasagna and we also found your favourite cake!", she pointed to the cake on the stand at the table.

"I thought you were going to the park", you quirked an eyebrow.

"Daddy wanted to surprise you and we thought it was a good idea", Addalynn stated.

"Oh, wow", you gulped, feeling the hormones rushing and taking over your feelings as you shed a couple of tears, "it's happy tears, I swear", you giggled as you wiped them.

"You do so much for our family, love, we just wanted to give something back to you - even though it's practically impossible to do as much as you do for us", your husband added as he hugged you.

"This is so nice, thank you, guys", you cooed, kissing your husband's cheek and letting him have some Genevieve time before you went up to the girls, hugging them close to you, "thank you for being so kind, girls".

"You deserve it, mummy", Margot smiled, "can we eat? I'm hungry", she patted her tummy.

"Yes, sweetheart, we can - mummy's hungry too!".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)