#and then we ran some one shots to get back into playing

[mandy-asimp]

Safe and sound

Emily Prentiss x reader

Warnings: uhh some violence against Ian Doyle not too much tho, Emily's a bit delulu but aren't we all

Summary: emily begins to see your face around more, but it's impossible. You were dead. But when Ian Doyle is rumored to escape, you couldn't stay dead forever.

A/n: sum slight, sum sweet, sum short😋

She was walking to the steps of her apartment when she first saw you. She at first thought it was the sleep deprivation catching up. You couldn't be here...you...you weren't there. She told her self that as she walked up the stairs to her apartment.

Unlocking the door and feeling uneasy. That couldn't be right. She hasn't thought of you in awhile...she avoided you in her memory. You were apart of a time she...she can't let the team find out about you.

How did you find her? The question ran in her head as she sat at her table. Head in hands as she just tried to wrap her head around it.

Sergio jumped into her lap. He was wet. "Were you out in the rain, buddy?" She pet his back, but then it dawned on her. She didn't check the house.

She moved carefully, trying not to alarm the intruder if there was one. Checking each room carefully before heading into her bedroom. Finding the window open and a little puddle.

Shaking her head she just scoffed. "You're crazy, Emily. She's not here...it's impossible." She took a few deep breaths.

But before she left the room she put her perfume on the lock, just in case. She followed her night routine still on edge. Eventually finishing and trying to catch some sleep.

~

A thud woke her from her sleep, if you could even call it sleep. She looked quickly to the window and finding it to be the closed still. But she was up...she might as well check the house once more.

"Serg?...Buddy you making a mess?" She called out. Hoping it was just the cat. Yet, he was asleep in his bed. Completely unbothered. Did she hear a thud? He would've woken up, right?

Emily ran her hands over her face, trudging back into her room. She didn't bother checking anything as she climbed back into the sheets. Closing her eyes and once again trying for sleep.

~

Her eyes slowly peeled open. The way she was laying had her facing her bathroom. And her body froze in terror. There you were. Standing. Looking at your reflection so casually.

Your head snapped over to her but it wasn't you. Your eyes were glowing red and you had this look of disappointment plastered on.

Emily shot up, sweat dripping off her body. Her head instantly shot to look into the bathroom. There was nobody.

Why? Why were you suddenly plaguing her thoughts? She was so sure it was over...you were lost in the case. One minute you were next to her, and then the literal next minute...tears were streaming down her face now.

Through tears she checked the time, she was already running late. So quickly, she pushed the day so far back into her memory and wiped her tears. Quickly working to get decent for work and dashing out the door.

~

It's been three days since she saw you...or maybe saw you. Her mind was all sorts of foggy and it was playing into her job now.

They were on a case somewhere. Derek and her were talking to a lady about some cab driver. They had just finished and watched her walk away.

Her blood ran cold as she glanced to where she could feel eyes on her. You stood on the corner, ready to cross, but you weren't looking at her. A car flashed by and suddenly you were gone. She couldn't think anymore.

"Prentiss?" Derek waved his hand in front of her. His eyes moved to match where she was looking, seeing nothing there. "Are you ok?"

She hummed and came back. "Huh? Yeah...sorry I just haven't been sleeping very well. I feel like I'm seeing things suddenly." She tried to joke around it, but Derek was a good friend.

He knew it was more but he wasn't going to push while on a case. Maybe back at the BAU where Garcia can also help figure it out. But until then, they had a case.

"Well, let's get this case over with and then you can take as much princess sleep as a possible." He lightly joked. Gaining a small smile from the woman.

~

She was back at the door to her apartment. There was this green box outside. Neatly wrapped. She knew that wrapping all too well. It made her stomach twist in ways she hasn't ever felt.

Her breathing picked up a little bit. Then her phone rang, she was quick to answer it. "Hey Emily!" Reid's voice came through.

He went on about a movie, but Emily was too busy clearing her house. Having to turn down his offer as she grabbed her files. Saying her goodbyes as she got back up, catching a glimpse of the mirror.

She met your eyes and immediately adjusted her hold on her gun. "What do you want?" She whispered.

"What?" Reid's voice was mere background noise.

Emily turned around and just saw the box from her door. "You don't scare me..." she called into her house. Her phone got thrown to her bed. "You're above this!"

She turned around the corner in hope to catch you. But then it dawned on her again, you can't be here. It's impossible. The paranoia is eating her alive.

Emily came back into her room, seeing her phone still on a call with Reid. "Shit.." she whispered as she picked up the phone. "Reid?"

"Sugar?!" Penelope's voice came loudly. "Are you ok?!"

"Emily?" Reid came in, Hotch close behind him.

Emily let a sigh out, "I'm fine...I'm just really tired. Sorry for worrying you guys." She was quick to hang up her phone. Giving them no space to continue to question.

She let her head fall back and groaned. Laughing at herself once again as she got ready to leave for the night.

The wrapping threw her off still. She wasn't going to let it be the reason something does happen. She knew how you wrapped your gifts. You gave her so many. You even explained why you wrapped how you did.

"It one, looks way cuter and is easy to unwrap. And two, it gives more precision to be precise and make sure it's perfect for the receiver. Come, I'll teach you and you can use it to become the second best gift wrapper. After me of course."

Your smile was huge that day. The two of you spent the day watching movies as you wrapped up your Christmas gifts for her.

~

The next morning, she walked into the bullpen. Confused as everyone was watching Hotch's office.

"What's going on?" Emily frowned. Coming up to everyone.

A few shrugged, but before anyone could answer Hotch came out. "Prentiss can I speak with you?"

She gave a nod and dropped off all her stuff. Walking into his office and seeing him and a file. "Sir?"

"This was left on my desk this morning. I was wondering if it meant anything to you?" He handed over the file.

She opened it and it was practically blank. The only thing in the middle of the paper was a picture of her and half another person who was kissing her cheek.

She tried not to freeze infront of her boss but it was too much for her to not. "Emily, do I need to be worried about your safety?" He leaned forward. "I can have cops outside your apartment if needed."

She shook her head. "Can I...can I keep this?" Her voice was shaky. Hotch had only seen her like this once before. With her friend awhile back.

"Are you going to make any irrational decisions if I say yes? The team can help you if you-" he stopped when she shook her head again. "Is everything all right?"

She took a big inhale, letting it go slowly and nodding. "I'll be ok...can I...um have the day though?" She asked.

It was easily granted to her as she recollected her stuff and left without much to say.

She wasn't going crazy...you were actually alive. But that would make sense on how you've been disappearing within seconds?

She tried to make it work, thinking all the possibilities that could explain something. Her thoughts carried her into her apartment.

It wasn't worth checking anything, if you were already getting in and out then...why can't you just come see her?

Why is it secrets?

An unwanted game of cat and mouse?

What is keeping you from her?

You know why, Em...you know why. Your voice rang in her head. She could hear how soft it still was. How much emotion you could hold within your words even just the word 'the'. You were her second half. The one who she could crumble against and it'd be ok. But she lost you. She might not get you back.

She flopped into the middle of her bed and cried. She was finally mourning you. In her own ball curled up. Staring blankly at the wall.

And on one blink, you were there. She could see you standing there. Head tilted just slightly to the left and smiling sadly at her.

"Are you even real..."she mumbled. Emily was tired of seeing you everywhere and it not being you.

So when you moved closer and placed your warm hand on her cheek she gasped. It didn't even take a second before she was latching onto you and crying heavily.

You held her back in silence. Just letting her get everything out. You didn't mind it though. It felt natural.

It felt like the first time you held her. And she could feel it too. That both hearts were full again, designed to be one with each other.

"But you're..."she sobbed into you. Clutching you tighter as she began to struggle to breath.

"Hey, hey...just follow mine." You led the deep breathing. "There you go hun, steady breathing ok?"

She pulled back from you and really took in your face. Holding your face and crashing her lips to yours. It made you laugh a little as you kissed back. It was well overdue.

"I thought you died?" She dragged you to the bed, neither of you thinking as you laid down and let her lay on top of you. Your hand finding its home in her hair as you detangled it.

You hummed softly, "it was my only way to protect you. Sometimes, we have to make choices for the better even if it means the worse for ourselves. Doyle...he..."

The name made her tense slightly under your touch, "what about him?..."

"He...he had bad plans and I found out about them. I told Sean and he pulled me out instantly. They killed me off and reassigned me....I watched you from afar recently because...he's escaped. He's been watching you and your team. And if I knew any better...we're the final two. I wanted to see you one more time." You explained to her. Hating that this is what was happening to you both.

She held you even tighter now. "How's everyone else?" She was scared to ask. More scared for the answer as you took a deep breath in.

"They don't know I'm alive, but they know Ian is out." You answered quietly. There was more to why you showed up and you knew she was avoiding asking you anyways.

She was silent as she laid with you. But in her own mind, she was a wreck. She didn't want to really think about why you were here. She already knew.

"Will you keep me safe...for just tonight?" She almost sounded afraid. "Even if you're not here when I wake up...just one more night?"

The moonlight made her eyes sparkle in a way you would be a monster if you said no. So you did all you could, you pulled her so incredibly closed and held her till she fell asleep.

However, you were wide awake. You knew you next move. You were sworn to protect Emily Prentiss ever since you met Ian Doyle. He was a man of secrets and you pulled apart each one just for her.

You both were at risk here, but you just wouldn't let the risk go far for her. That's why it pained you to leave her before her alarm went off. You placed a delicate kiss to her hairline before climbing out the window.

You didn't leave her with nothing though, that morning when she woke up she saw the small box on her nightstand. It had your signature bow o top and a small note next to it. Till we meet again, i promise.

~

It had been awhile. Rumors are Ian Doyle was dead, but nobody could confirm it. Nobody but you.

You had caught him when you least wanted to. When it was right there with Emily. Sitting across from her and threatening her team.

"I'm going to take the only thing you care about...your life."

That was the only thing that man had to say for him to become your only focus. You had followed him for days. Left him clues you were lurking. You knew your presence made him a bit uneasy. That's what you did best after all.

You noticed how his actions towards Emily moved slower than planned. He was trying to lure you out with her, but it didn't work as well.

You were in this man's home. That was his only warning you gave. After that everything was fair game. Especially once you heard he was continuing his plans. It made your blood boil and you felt no mercy.

So, you followed Ian on a motorcycle, it was easy and fast, just your style. He walked into a pub with a few guys, but that never stopped you.

You got a table to keep them in sight while you out of theirs. And when he got up and went to the bathroom, that was your opening. With a silent fire, you made him defenseless. You took your time in there with him. Making sure he felt the years of pain he caused. Then you left him there for someone else to find.

Leaving the state, the country, anything to distance yourself then. You left for a few years. Five in total (there was a lot to clear up before you could). Finally though, you'd get to be with her.

You wanted it to be a surprise so you figured, what better surprise then at work? You had gotten in as early as possible. Slipping a little note and little box on her desk before leaving unnoticed.

And by eight in the morning, you had received a text saying it can't be true. It made you smile as you texted her back that you promised her to come back.

As she read it she fiddled with the ring on her finger, bringing Penelope and JJ's attention to it. They were having lunch in Emily's office.

"Woah! When did you get that?" The blondes instantly grabbed for her hand. Inspecting the dark red gem. "They must really like you..." JJ joked.

Earning laughs in return, "I got it awhile ago...from an old friend." There was a distant tone in each word.

Neither blonde believing it was just a friend. They shared a look and rushed off. Hiding in Garcia's bat cave until the end of the day.

Emily was going to find it weird, but she didn't want to ruin her mood. She was excited for your next appearance.

What she didn't expect was it to be at the bureau. When you waltzed in with a 'delivery'. You made a beeline for her desk with a goofy smile as she tried to not laugh at your getup.

"Are you Emily Prentiss?" You tried to contain your smile, failing miserably as tears sprung to her eyes.

She didn't care anymore she just hugged you tightly. She had you again and it felt right finally. Nothing was getting her as long as you were there.

The room stared at you two. Who were you that Emily was crying the way she was? They could only see your lips move but couldn't hear anything.

"I know sweet girl..." you hummed. Holding her head in place as she cried heavily. "Just follow mine." And you led the breathing once again. Calming her down to get her to look at you. "Well look at you FBI section chief Prentiss." You eyed her playfully. Getting a strong wack to your arm. She aged beautifully.

"You don't get to joke after what you did." She frowned seriously now. "You've risked yourself too far." She was silent for a second, knowing she wanted to know. "What did you to him? Is he really dead?"

"The night he was in a pub... He went to the bathroom and I was gone before his guys could even think of the possibility. He didn't deserve mercy." You kept it short. There wasn't much to tell anyways, you moved quick in your line of work.

"So are you.." she let her question trail off, but you knew what she was asking.

"In a sense, yes. There is no real harm against me or you. Therefore I have no reason to stay moving." You bobbed your head, letting Emily's smile infect you.

She fisted your shirt and pulled you close, kissing you sweetly but fiercely. And when she pulled away she looked at you with a hopeful shimmer. "Move in with me then. Stay with me this time."

You easily agreed to her, not needing to even think twice about it. And that's when you both heard a throat clear.

Penelope was behind on everything as she watched the end of you and Emily's moment. "I want a name, now." She demanded from her spot in the couch.

The two of you laughed at her tone, but you stepped slightly back for Emily to take the lead. It was her choice if the team got to know more about you or not.

"This is Y/n." Was all she said, but that's all you needed to know there was still so much for you two to talk about first. "I'm gonna take a second lunch," she smiled at her colleagues before collecting her stuff.

There were many unanswered questions as you left hand in hand with Emily. Penelope and JJ began to share many possibilities on what could be happening. But they would all have to wait till they finally did get their answers.

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: February 23

“Inkpot Gods” by The Amazing Devil

[mynameisjag]

For @ace-in-disgrace and their prompt: Danny gets mistaken as the love child of the disasters known as Wolverine and Deadpool.

Okay, it was not Danny's fault, he swears!

He was just experimenting with his ice, playing around with some of the younger yetis in the Far Frozen for fun. So shaping his ice to cover his hands to copy the paws of the others and seeing how well he could cut through solid hard frozen ice was just a game. The rough housing was to be expected, everyone tossing each other to see how far they could be thrown was fun.

Being picked up and tossed at the right exact moment a portal opened up was not fun or expected and he blamed Clockwork. The entity had to be responsible somehow for him not being able to enjoy a day of hanging out with Frostbite and the others.

Landing right in the middle of a what looked like a swat happening in an abandoned warehouse, armored people instantly aiming their rifles at him as he stood up wasn’t even surprising given his luck.

Fair though, he was currently looking more on the feral side to match his playmates then his normal ghost form.

“Hey, what’s with hostility? Can’t someone just pop in somewhere without-“, and he was shot in the shoulder, cutting his sentence off, “rude.”

It was just a regular bullet, so it was easy for his form to just…push it out and heal the hole up.

One of the men reached up to touch a device attached on his ear, “Unknown possible mutant has breached the facilities, age around 12-15, regeneration showed, animal like features-“

“You know it’s really rude to talk about someone like that to their face, no manners at all.”

“Unfortunately satirical.”

There was a crash from above as red and yellow forms busted through the glass, the guns swinging their aim at the two men landed.

“Sassiness is always welcomed!”, the red man had his own guns out and was already firing as he talked.

Danny had decided to dodge over to a pile of crates as all the attention was on the new intruders, eyes wide as an arc blood barely missed him as the one in yellow unsheathed long blades from his knuckles.

He glanced at his own hands, he couldn’t make a working gun from ice but…concentrating…he slowly watched as ice built up into copies, looking very much like it was growing from his skin.

An armored body was flung his way and he instinctual reacted…there were now two halves of a one man and he was covered in the viscera.

He froze…did he…oh…oh no…he had to go, he had to go now.

“Ope, looks like someone's first kill! Look at you Jack Frost,” the red guy with guns was now standing above him on a bigger crate, waving down at the teen, “awe, tiny puppy claws!”

Danny took a swing at the crate, watching as it collapsed and the man fell, laughing the entire time he went down.

He quickly turned to run, only to run into a wide chest where he promptly bounced off and landed ass first on the floor, “What in the-I have literally ran into steel walls softer then you.”

Claw man snorted as he reached down and picked Danny up by the scruff, “You alright kid?”

Said kid just hissed at him.

Claws was chuckling, “Cute, now put back your claws, I think it’s time for a chat.”

“Is it finally our turn for the found family and misunderstandings trope,” the red man was back and had swaggered up to the other two, an arm being thrown over his partners shoulders, “Hi, there and welcome, I’m Deadpool and this is Wolverine and we’re your new dads.”

“No.”

“No?”

Danny smiled, all sharp teeth, “No,” and promptly went invisible and intangible, escaping out of the warehouse while he could, leaving the other two behind.

He had to find a portal home.

Wade went limp, using Logan as a brace, “But I wanted to pull a ‘Batman’…”

The response was a snort and Wolverine sniffing his own hand, growling as he took the child’s scent in, “Don’t know what your talking about but, I can track him down, we probably need to before more of these fucks show up and get their hands on him.”

Hope you enjoyed it!

[cvnt4him]

big dick izuku with GRAY SWEATPANTS 😩😩 I’ve been thinking about it ALL day, he knows how hot and bothered we get when we see that fat fucking dick print…

You fucking sluts make me so happy you have no idea, these fucking asks are so delicious😖

Big dick!zuzu walking around the house in gray sweatpants???????

He'd walk around shirtless doing what he needs to do around the house, laundry, folding the previously washed clothes, putting the dishes away and then reloading the dishwasher. It was always so pleasing to see him doing the things you normally do when he's at work.

Izuku sighs heavily and stretches in front of you, you were sitting on the couch watching some show and suddenly your well toned large boyfriend catches your eye. A light groan leaves his mouth as he stretches and flexes his muscles with a sigh.

Your eyes look at his figure and the way his muscles look, he is such a delicious looking human being. Being his girlfriend is honestly such a flex because who gets to see him like this? Who gets to be laid up next to him and get kisses and cuddles from him? Who gets to watch his big fat n thick cock press against his sweats.

Wait what.

You tried to clear your thoughts but boy... It's like he knew what he was doing to you, walking in front of the TV a couple of times to "get something" or randomly asking for a hug so his thick fucking cock could press up against your thigh. It was truly shocking and kind of terrifying knowing how fat n thick his cock was.

Izuku sits down next to you exhaling through his nose, your eyes follow his every move and as soon as he sits down next to you plopping himself down your eyes dart down to his cock and the way it slightly moves. Woah..

"what'cha watchin’ babe?"

Izuku says looking at the TV not recognizing what's playing, his words however fall onto deaf ears, you were completely distracted by his cock. You felt so guilty but on the other hand it was just so nice to look at, it bothered you. It looked so appetizing through his sweats.

So many things ran through your mind as you gulp a little too loudly catching his attention along with the fact that you hadn't given him an answer. Izuku looks to you to see you staring at him, well not him, his cock. He doesn't even need to connect the dots to notice, it's not like he was walking around like this on purpose those were just the only pants he could find. Honest!!

Izuku grins wickedly at you before grabbing your hand and putting it directly into his clothed cock. It startled you, made you jump out of your little daze and your eyes shot up to his very own luminescent emerald green eyes. He chuckled at you and leaned down to kiss you, his other hand moving to cup your cheek and pull you closer.

He holds your hand over his dick before gently closing your smaller fingers around his dick. He moved your hand up and down and squeezed his hand around yours whilst it was wrapped around his cock. He pulled away from the kiss before looking down at his cock with a wince which involuntarily made your eyes follow in suit.

You mouth was slightly opened as he slowly moved your hand up and down his hardening cock, his eyes moved back to your face and watched you closely, your reactions and the cute little faces you made. The little sounds that escaped, little gasps and breaths. He loved it.

Soon izuku let go of your hand, and to no one's surprise you were stroking his cock all on your own.

"good fucking girl."

He groaned, licking his lips with a smirk. He watched you closely as you looked up at him never letting up your movements. He hummed pulling you into another soft quick kiss making you whimper.

You sped up the flick of your wrist and stroked him faster through his sweats, his precum beading and dripping from his tip as his cock was twitching against his thin fabric. It made a slight wet patch form, it looked absolutely delicious. You glanced back down to his leaky cock and slowly crouched down, izukus eyes widened in disbelief his smirk growing wider as you wrapped your lips around his clothed tip, your tongue grazing the wettened and sakty tasting fabric due to his pre.

You hum at the familiar flavor and suckle harshly, a groan escaping him louder than the rest. He puts one of his arms behind the couch and his other hand finds itself in your hair just holding. You ended up using both hands to jack him off through his sweatpants, feeling his fat cock through them. The warm precum that invaded your tongue tasting so good.

Izuku shut his eyes and let you go down on him, doing whatever it is that your big heart desired. He let his head lean back against the couch cushion as his breaths got heavier, he groaned alot more and his brows furrowed, he was getting close.

With that knowledge in the back of your mind you fondled his balls through his sweats with one of your hands ad you kept sucking his tio and stroking him with your other hand, it could hardly even wrap around his damn cock to begin with.

You touching his balls is what made his cock jump in your hand, a couple more licks of your hot tongue and the way it wriggled around his tip, your hand squeezing his cock insanely, and the way you fiddled with his balls had him cumming through his pants ruining them.

He choked on his groan and bit his lip gripping your hair tightly, his eyes rolled and his hips accidentally bucked up into your mouth making you gag at the rough feeling of the fabric invading your mouth, his cum got on your tongue and squirted to the back of your throat.

You almost choked on it, coughing and gasping for air as you pull away patting your chest and clearing your throat. Once izuku calms down and comes back from his haze he looks at you then down at his soiled pants. He laughs loudly throwing his head back and nearly shedding tears, you pout and feel quite embarrassed for an unknown reason.

"what."

"really? I wear sweatpants and you go absolutely feral? You're a perv y'know."

He says in-between laughs, you just had to have his cock in your mouth in some way. Just had to taste his cum, just HAD to. You turn away from him and walk away, he laughs even louder before yelling to you,

"i just put the clothes in the wash! Now I'm gonna have to rewash these!!"

AN: wowowowow. This was amazing I love love loved writing this, smth ab a big izu does smth to me. Might have to write ab it in the future 🥰🥰🥰

[fayes-fics]

Second Son

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: The second son is, for once, the first choice...

Warnings: none really... mild angst, family dynamics, love at first sight.

Word Count: 2.9k

Authors Note: Request fill for anon here, about Benedict being the second choice for everything.... until his love turns up. Thanks for this request; I hope this is angsty enough for you anon. Im not sure about it tbh. Sorry that it's taken more than three months to get to it on my WIP list. Unbetaed. Enjoy <3

Benedict Bridgerton was born into privilege and can have few complaints. Except perhaps that he is always second. The spare. The just-in-case option. Being a familial insurance policy lends one more freedom than the burden of being the titled first son, perhaps, but it also feels like your whole existence, in some respects, can seem like a contingency plan.

____

His stomach swoops with excitement as the arrow pierces the target dead on the bullseye. And on his first ever archery lesson, just after his twelfth birthday.

He turns around to see if anyone is there to witness his triumph, but it goes unmarked. All his young siblings gathered around Anthony, patting him on the back for his achievements in doing the same moments before. Being a good shot is an essential skill for the next Viscount indeed. The fact that he has been receiving instruction for months already and this is Benedict’s first lesson hurts a little.

But he doesn't bother to bring attention to his arguably more impressive feat. It seems pointless now. Wordlessly he shrugs and walks towards the target, plucking out his arrow and starting again. Perhaps next time, they will notice.

____

“Is that the new Viscount Bridgerton?” Benedict hears a young girl murmur as he sweeps into the first societal event of the season, the spring following his father's death. 

“Oh no, my dear, sadly not; I believe that is one of the brothers,” her mother replies, acting as if he has no sense of hearing, even trying to ignore it as he is, surveying the crowd.

“Such a shame,” the young girl huffs, “he is so very handsome.”

“Yes, dear, but sadly not titled. We can do better,” her mother chides, moving them along out of earshot.

He will never get over how cutthroat the Ton can be, a part of his tender seventeen-year-old heart sinking. Not that he had a potential interest in that girl, more the principle that he will somehow be rendered as an also-ran, at best a consolation prize, for the rest of his life.

What is most galling, perhaps, is that, when his mother needs their presence the most on a night like tonight, the new VIscount is nowhere to be seen. Has not even bothered to show his face, running off to some spurious gambling den and brothel, spending the night indulging himself rather than facing society. 

So here Benedict is, stepping up to play the dutiful son that his elder brother should be. Being the support their mother so desperately needs at her first event as a widow, her arm looped heavily through his, her whole bodyweight seeming to use him as her literal pillar of support. As he escorts her around the room, he is filled with admiration at her brave face. He can see the overwhelming sadness in her eyes every time the word dowager is invoked, and his heart cracks a little at the loneliness he can feel emanating from his mother’s very soul. 

“Tis a shame the Viscount did not deign the first event of the season worthy of his patronage,” she states pointedly as she sips champagne.

“I am sure he has very good reasons for his absence,” Benedict replies soothingly, covering for his errant brother, attempting to shield their mother from the truth of his philandering ways. Benedict knows it is Anthony’s way of dealing with the responsibility of the title of Viscount being thrust upon him so young. But sometimes, just sometimes, Benedict wishes he could escape his grief in such a manner, Anthony taking his turn attending a stuffy ball and playing guardian to a grieving woman. Their burdens may be different, but the wish to escape them is often not, Benedict realises.

____

She catches his eye at a garden party at Aubrey Hall. She is a pretty young lady, maybe eighteen to his twenty-three, with bright eyes and a sweet, happy face. She makes his palms slightly sweaty. He watches her from a distance, uncertain how to approach or what to say, feeling a little tongue-tied, even. 

Just then, Anthony materialises at his shoulder.

“Who is that pretty young thing?” Anthony asks, tracing Benedict’s line of sight.

“Miss Bradstreet,” he replies, watching as she turns to face the sun, closing her eyes, basking in its warmth. The light captures her cheekbones perfectly, and he itches to have his sketchbook and capture her likeness. He would very much like to get to know her better.

“Let's go provide a warm welcome,” Anthony smirks, clapping a hand on Benedict’s shoulder and practically dragging him across the lawn.

Benedict reluctantly follows, a flutter of excitement as her eyes land upon them as they approach. 

“Miss Bradstreet,” Anthony swaggers. “Viscount Bridgerton at your service; I am so very pleased to be your host today,” he bows.

Benedict's stomach plunges as he watches her practically melt into the lawn right there, virtually swooning at Anthony’s feet.

“Oh, and this is my brother, Benedict,” Anthony adds, almost as an afterthought. 

She flicks her head to the side briefly to politely acknowledge Benedict before returning to Anthony. All of her undivided adoring attention on him as he regales the story of his latest hunting triumphs upon her insistence. Benedict heaves a sigh and watches as yet another young lady he likes chooses his brother over him. He is almost used to it now, but it doesn't stop the sting every time.

____

Your world grinds to a halt as you see him. He is descending the stairs with what you assume is the rest of his family. He is very much in the middle of a tight circle, walking behind what appears to be his mother and perhaps older brother. Quite the most beautiful man you have ever seen, your heart pounding in your ears, your throat suddenly dry despite the lemonade in your hand. You assume they must be the hosts, seeing as they are the very last to enter the ballroom here at Bridgerton House, and there is no announcement of their name.

“Who is that?” you whisper, leaning towards your elder sister. She has been out among society for a year and knows the Ton better than you.

“That is the Bridgerton family, of course,” she replies. “Illustrious in the extreme. Our hosts for this evening. The Viscount there is the most eligible bachelor of every season… and every season, he has resisted a match. So I wouldn't bother if I were you,” she sniffs.

“Which is the Viscount?” you check, your eyes unable to leave the beautiful man with a cravat tied in the most unconventional fashion.

“The one with his arm looped with their mother, the dowager Viscountess, naturally,” your sister rolls her eyes as if patently obvious.

“And what of the others?” you inquire keenly, realising the man you admire cannot be the one your sister is referring to. “Do you know their names?”

“I do not,” she admits, “such things are not really important when one is looking for a titled husband,” she points out airily. 

You nod, knowing the responsibility your sister must carry as firstborn to find a suitable match that can provide for your widowed mother and, indeed, perhaps yourself and your younger sister should neither of you be able to find a husband. You don’t envy her position one little bit. 

You are, however, desperate to get closer to the most beautiful man you have ever seen. And so you spend your evening working towards them, in as polite of a fashion as you can, your stomach in knots of excitement to know him.

“Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton, it is an honour and a pleasure to meet you,” you curtsy, heart pounding as he now stands a few feet away, unable to look at him so close by.

“Hello, my dear and you are?” she asks politely.

“Miss y/n y/l/n, it is my very first season; I am so honoured to be here,” you explain. “I must provide the apologies of my mother, Mrs y/l/n, who could not attend tonight due to a cold, but she is so very thankful for the invitation.”

“Oh, of course,” the viscountess smiles. “I am so sorry to hear of her illness; please pass on my best regards… Anthony!” she turns to her side to grab the attention of a man. The viscount’s head whips around from where he is in discussion with another. “Come meet Miss y/l/n,” she needles pointedly. “Miss y/l/n, this is the Viscount Anthony Brdgerton, and he is so pleased not only to make your acquaintance but also for your presence here tonight,” she welcomes on his behalf, and you do not miss the subtle nudge in the ribs she gives him.

Then his regard is drawn to you. He is handsome certainly, and you appreciate his polite but absent-minded greeting. His attentions are obviously elsewhere, but then you cannot fault him as yours are the same. Your gaze strays over his shoulder to the man who first captures your attention. And your breath is stolen by how his hazy blue eyes stare intently at you.

____

Benedict is twenty-six years old when he is struck by lightning. Not literally. But that is the sensation that runs through his body when he first lays eyes on you—politely introducing yourself to his mother and thanking her for your invitation to this ball. 

He thought he knew what attraction was until this point. He thought he knew the depths to which one could fall in love in an instant. He was an utter fool. He looks at you, and at once, everything is so quiet and loud all at once. He is desperate to know you in a way he has never felt. To grab your hand, take you somewhere, and ask you a million questions to get to know your soul. He also wants to kiss you so much that his lips tingle. And inside, his lungs want to scream as his mother does the natural thing and introduces the beautiful, polite young lady to her most eligible son… Anthony. 

Then his heart jolts as your eyes stray from Anthony and meets his, your pupils dilating in a way that makes his lungs too small to inhale air. It is the first and only time a young woman has had Anthony’s full attention and has looked away from it. And to him, no less. The tidal flood of chemicals in his system makes it feel like he is vibrating in his very shoes.

____

You try your best to be polite and look at Anthony as he speaks, but your sight is drawn to this other man like a moth to a flame. From appearance, the second son, as you are the second daughter. A flare of understanding and sympathy in your chest as to how that is. You want to grab his hand and run away with him.

“My lord,” you find your voice and snap your eyes back to the Viscount, “would you do me the honour of introducing me to the rest of your wonderful family?” your ask, almost timid.

He looks temporarily taken aback, as if mystified why anyone in the Ton would care about the status of anyone beyond his mother and himself. You smile at him expectantly and do not miss, from the corner of your eye, how the beautiful man’s face is awash with surprise at your request.

“Oh, most certainly,” Anthony seems to snap out of his temporary stupor and turns to introduce his siblings in attendance. A tall, baby-faced young man stands to attention as Anthony moves from left to right. “This is Colin; he has just returned from his travels in Greece,” you nod and smile politely, knowing nothing of the subject. “And this is my sister, Eloise; it is her first season, and she is not in the slightest bit happy about that,” he adds dryly, and you can't help but giggle and feel a kinship with the spirited young lady who returns your wry smile. “My eldest sister, the Duchess of Hastings, who is visiting us,”

You curtsy and bow your head. “It is an honour, your Grace,” you add, and she smiles sweetly at you, her arm looped in her mother's.

“Obviously, you have met my mother,” he continues, and suddenly he is the last in the line. You feel your palms clench, sweaty in anticipation of learning his name “... and this is my brother, Benedict; he hopes to be an artist.”

You are finally brave enough to meet his eyes again. He is so achingly beautiful that the rest of his family, indeed the whole ballroom, melt away from your view—he is all you can see.

“Oh, I adore art,” you stutter, mesmerised, offering your hand to him, the first and only person in the family you do so to. Unseen by you, your gaze only on one man, Anthony’s mouth drops open in surprise.

Nothing can prepare you for when Benedict’s gloved hand gently touches yours, him bowing to kiss the back of your hand. You catch a woody citrus scent that makes your mouth water as he does so. And then you feel the warmth of his lips through your glove, and you are utterly undone.

“Miss y/l/n,” he rumbles quietly, the sound making your insides melt even more; it's deep and resonant and makes every inch of your body tingle.

“Please call me y/n,” you murmur, moving closer, knowing how scandalous that might be, but seemingly unable to stop yourself. He has a hypnotic hold over you that you don't want to fight.

“Only if you shall call me Benedict,” he breathes, and it takes Anthony clearing his throat to make you spring apart, suddenly remembering where you are.

____

His lips touch the silk of your glove, and he is gone. 

Already planning a future, his mind supplying images of you at his cottage out in the country, the lady of the house. Tending to the herb garden, reading happily curled up in front of the fire in the drawing room, fearlessly plucking a bow as you stand in front of joint archery targets gently teasing him for losing to a girl, and finally, the image that truly knocks the wind out of him, you naked under him, desperately moaning his name as you move together, entwined in ecstasy.

He hears your sharp inhale, and his heart skips at the idea you feel it too. That you are the first woman ever that sees him and not Anthony. Really sees him. Not as the second son. Not as a consolation prize. 

And when your body seems to sway towards him, he is already mentally asking his mother for a betrothal ring from her grandmother, which she said she is keeping just for him.

____

“Benedict,” his name feels wonderful in your mouth, like a gift from the heavens. “Please, may we take a turn around the gardens?” you implore, the boldest you have ever been in your whole life. 

“It would be my very greatest pleasure,” he responds.

And you know with absolute certainty you have met your husband, the father of your children, your very future. 

____

“It is not as if this is my show….” he sighs.

“You should not do that, darling,” you say affectionately, ruffling his hair as you move to fix his cravat; it definitely needs to be more jaunty, in your opinion.

“Do what?” he breathes, his wedding ring catching the light as he places his hands gently over yours and stills your motions.

“Think of yourself as second,” you argue, running your hand over his cheek. “This gallery opening may feature others' work too, but you are the star of the exhibit,” you reassure, tilting his forehead down so it rests upon yours.

There it is again. That look that always floors you. Even now, a year later. Like you are the most wondrous creature, and he can scarcely believe you are his.

“Never forget, you will always be first to me,” you utter fiercely, watching his eyes soften with devotion. “And not just me….” you guide his sizeable warm hand onto the swell of your belly, “to us. We love you so much, Benedict,” your tone is ardent, wanting him to believe he deserves this recognition, that he should believe in himself the way that you do.

“I love you, too,” he responds quietly, reverentially. “So very much. Both of you are my whole world,” his voice choked with emotion, and you throw your arms around him and squeeze hard, wanting to telegraph just how much he is the very centre of your universe.

An hour later, you clutch your hands over your chest as you watch him being brought onto the raised stage and introduced to the crowd as they applaud him and his work rapturously, awaiting to hear him talk of his art. As he does so, you stroke your belly unseen under your cloak, beaming with pride for your wonderful husband.

____

He sees your face in the crowd, and as ever, it calms him, especially at this landmark moment. So as he finishes the speech that he has rehearsed for days now, he decides to do something perhaps unconventional but something he seems unable to resist.

“Lastly, before I allow you back to your champagne,” he jests, finally at ease with the attention and recognition. “I want to thank my life’s inspiration, the very reason I stand before you today. My wonderful wife. Thank you, my love, for being the light of my life; for always making this second son your first choice. You will always, always be my first choice. I love you.” 

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.

His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.

She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.

Until he quits.

She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.

She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.

He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.

She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.

He’s a natural.

He takes to it like a duck to water.

She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.

He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.

And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.

He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.

But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.

He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.

Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.

He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.

He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.

He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.

Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”

He gets in.

He goes.

He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.

His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.

In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.

She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.

In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.

Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.

“Sorry, man. Running late.”

Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.

“Harrington? You’re a student here?”

He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.

“Munson? When did you get here?”

“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”

“Violin. You?”

“Guitar and songwriting.”

“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”

Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.

“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”

“What’s it trying to tell us?”

“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”

“Now?”

“Why not? Got better plans?”

Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.

“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”

Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.

“I could make dinner. If you want?”

“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”

Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.

“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”

“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”

Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.

But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.

“Sure.”

They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.

Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.

By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.

By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.

Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.

And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.

[paigesfuturewifey]

authors note! this is my first fic on here and i’m scared cause some of yall writers are SO GOOD ITS INTIMIDATING don’t judge too harshly ill get better i promise also this is short SORRY

“fuck!” you groaned loudly, dribbling the ball once more before bouncing it over to the ref.

this was your second foul of the night, and you were starting to think these refs were good for nothing.

the sound of paige bueckers clapping her hands obnoxiously loud only further heightened your frustration, taking the hem of your jersey and wiping your mouth.

“can’t keep up?” paige brushed her front up against your back as one of her teammates went to take the out-of-bounds ball.

you laughed dryly and turned to her, gesturing up. “look at the scoreboard, bueckers. you’re down by six.” you held your arms up, trying to create a barrier between paige and aaliyah but ended up grunting when paige got the ball, taking a step back and letting the ball fly.

“three.” she corrected the score with a smirk as she ran backwards to get back on defense. you huffed, getting the ball from your teammate and dribbling it down the court.

you looked the court over once, wetting your lips as you visualized the play you wanted to run in your head, the corner of your lips lifting.

paige makes sure to stay in front of you, but you took a jab step, as if she were going to drive forward, but mimicking paige earlier, you took a step back and let the ball fly.

paige jumped up, reaching up to try and block it but it was already gone and swishing through the net, making the crowd erupt in cheers. “can’t keep up?” you re-quoted her, holding up a three in the air as you jogged back to the other side of the court.

this is how the rest of the game remained, the two of you exchanging baskets and throwing insults at each other that only fueled the other more and more. and the fans absolutely ate it up.

somehow, somewhere along the lines, uconn ended up being up by a point with less than a minute left in the fourth, and that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

the timeout was called by Geno, and you made your way over to your teammates.

“bueckers, they’ve been letting l/n handle the ball all game. i need you to start playing hard man-to-man defense on her. we cannot afford to lose this lead, got it?”

“yeah, i gotchu.” paige nodded, squeezing the gatorade bottle into her mouth.

the two teams made their way back onto the court, and like you expected, paige was on your ass like she had been all game.

she was guarding you closely to the point where you could feel her abs press into your arm through her jersey. ignoring the heat that shot through you, this made you smile in amusement, looking over at how close she was in proximity to you.

you pressed your shoulder against her, trying to create space between you two, “nervous?” paige had the audacity to ask, earning a scoff from you.

“i don’t see anything to be nervous over.” you glanced her up and down, waiting for the ref to give your teammate the ball to throw in. “maybe,” you turned your entire body to her, “if you were nika muhl..” you could see how your words caused her to tense slightly, “or azzi fudd,” you whispered, leaning slightly forward to speak in her ear, “or kk arnold.”

paige’s jaw clenched, shaking her head. she couldn’t help the humorless laugh that escaped her lips, giving you credit where it was due. you were playing mind games, and you had her right where you wanted her. “fuck outta here and fuck you.” she muttered lowly.

you smiled sadistically, “do it yourself, bueckers.” you responded in the same low tone, and you watched as paige’s eyes darkened visually.

you smirked.

in the next millisecond, you were passed the ball, and it took paige two seconds slower than it normally would have for her to react. those two seconds was all you needed to dribble the ball down the court, passing it to your teammate who was open at the corner of the court. she let it fly, scoring the three just in time for the buzzer to loudly ring throughout the entire arena.

cheers roared throughout the crowd and you went to celebrate the win with your teammates, exchanging a hug with a few of the members of uconn.

you walked down the line as you high-fived the uconn team, though you noticed paige lingering around a little long. you narrowed your eyes, arching a brow when she spotted you.

when you guys got to each other, she held your hand in place, pulling you slightly away from everyone. “here’s what’s gonna happen next, you listening?” she looked into your eyes, waiting for a response.

all you could do was nod meekly. she nodded at your nod, licking her lips before she leaned into your ear like you’d done earlier. “the next time i see you, it’s gonna be in my hotel room, and you better hope your ready for me, l/n.”

[vanteguccir]

can u write about y/n doing that one tiktok trend where she tells Matt/Chris to get out of the room while she changes and he’s all shocked n stuff 😭😭

matt:

matt would be so disconcerted, not believing that you want him to get out of your shared bedroom so you can change after so many times seeing you naked, he would think he did something wrong and that you were feeling insecure, being a lost puppy 😭😭

- here's a small blurb of it -

Y/N stood at the foot of the bed, rummaging through the closet for a fresh change of clothes. Matt was sprawled on the bed, his laptop propped up on a pillow as he half-heartedly worked on answering some emails. Every few minutes, he'd glance up at her, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watched her move around the room.

"Hey, honey?" Y/N called out, trying to keep her tone casual. "Could you step out of the room for a minute? I need to get changed."

Matt's eyes shot up from the screen, his expression instantly transforming into one of confusion. His brows furrowed, and his mouth opened slightly as if to ask a question, but no words came out. He just stared at her, blinking a few times as if trying to process what she'd said.

"Wait, what?" He finally managed to utter, sitting up straighter on the bed. "You want me to leave the room? Why?"

Y/N suppressed a grin, keeping her face as neutral as possible.

"I just need some privacy, that's all."

Matt looked even more bewildered.

"But... I've seen you naked like a million times, babe. We live together. Why do you need privacy now?" His eyes were wide, resembling those of a lost puppy. He looked genuinely hurt, and Y/N felt a pang of guilt for a moment, but she pressed on with the prank.

"I don't know, Matt." She said, her voice deliberately casual. "I just feel like I need some space right now."

Matt's confusion deepened, and he swung his legs off the bed, standing up but not moving towards the door. He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes fixed on her with a mix of worry and sadness.

"Are you... are you feeling insecure about something? Because you're so pretty, Y/N. You're perfect. You don't need to feel that way."

The earnestness in his voice made Y/N's heart melt a little. She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"It's not that, Matt. I just... I don't know, I need some time to myself."

Matt took a step closer, his expression pleading.

"But why now? Did I do something to make you feel uncomfortable? Because I swear, I think you're the most beautiful person in the world. You don't need to hide from me."

Y/N could see the genuine concern in his eyes, and she almost caved in. Almost. But she wanted to see just how far she could take this.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong." She said softly. "I just... I just need a moment."

Matt looked utterly defeated. He took another step towards the door, his shoulders slumping.

"Okay, if that's what you want." He said quietly.

Y/N watched as he reluctantly reached for the doorknob, his movements slow and hesitant. She could see the hurt in his eyes, and it was too much for her to bear. Just as he was about to turn the knob, she burst out laughing.

"Matt, wait!" She called, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice. "I'm just messing with you!"

Matt froze, turning to look at her with a mix of confusion and relief.

"What?"

"I'm pranking you." Y/N admitted, still giggling. "I just wanted to see how you'd react."

The confusion on Matt's face slowly gave way to a look of realization, and then he started to laugh. He let go of the doorknob and walked back to her, shaking his head.

"You little brat." He said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. "You really had me worried there."

Y/N grinned up at him, her arms looping around his neck.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. You just looked so lost and confused."

chris:

chris would for sure be confused and upset, I feel he would question you and be a little brat when you insist, rolling his eyes to you and acting like you were crazy LMAO

- here's a small blurb for it -

Y/N stood in front of the closet, rifling through hangers as she searched for something to wear. Chris was sprawled out on their bed, propped up against the headboard with his phone in his hands, glancing up occasionally to watch her.

Y/N pulled a dress from the closet and held it up, examining it critically. After a moment, she turned to Chris, a playful glint in her eye.

"Hey, babe, can you step out for a minute? I need to get changed."

Chris's head snapped up, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"What?" His voice was a mixture of confusion and amusement. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah." Y/N said, trying to keep a straight face. "I need some privacy."

Chris blocked his phone screen, throwing it to the side above the mattress as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up, towering over her with his broad frame.

"Privacy?" He repeated, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "We've been together for how long now? And you suddenly need privacy?" His voice sounded high-pitched.

Y/N bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"Yes, Chris. I just... I need a minute to myself."

Chris stepped closer, his presence commanding and gentle all at once.

"Are you feeling okay?" He placed a hand on her cheek, tilting her head up so he could look into her eyes. "Did something happen?"

"No, nothing happened." Y/N replied, her resolve starting to waver under his intense gaze. She knew he could be bossy, but he was also incredibly gentle, which made her expect his reaction eagerly. "I just... I thought it might be nice to have a little space."

Chris let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

"Space? In our bedroom? While you're changing?" He shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You know I’ve seen it all before, right? And that all of it is mine." He gestured for her body with his hands.

"Yes, I know." Y/N said, finally letting a giggle escape. "But, you know, sometimes a girl needs a little mystery."

Chris's eyes sparkled with amusement as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

"Mystery, huh?" His voice was low, teasing. "Alright, I'll play along."

Y/N felt the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against her cheek.

"Thank you." She murmured, her face pressed against his chest.

Chris kissed the top of her head before stepping back.

"Okay, I'll step out. But only for a minute." He said, pointing a finger at her playfully. "I expect you to be dressed when I get back."

"Yes, sir." Y/N replied with a mock salute, trying to keep a straight face.

Chris chuckled, shaking his head as he walked to the door. He paused in the doorway, turning back to look at her.

"You're really something, you know that?"

"I do." Y/N said, grinning. "Now go, I need to get changed."

Chris rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness in his gaze.

"Alright, alright. I'm going." He stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Y/N waited a few seconds before she burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room. She could picture Chris standing just outside the door, probably shaking his head at her antics. She quickly slipped out of her current outfit and into the dress she had chosen, adjusting it in the mirror.

A few minutes later, she opened the door to find Chris leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

"Done?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Done." Y/N confirmed, stepping aside to let him back in.

Chris walked in, his eyes immediately scanning her outfit.

"You look beautiful." He said, his voice sincere.

[mascdestr0yer]

heyy if you don’t mind could you write something abt paige teaching her non athletic gf how to play basketball?? i just love reading some paige fluff, ur writing is really good btw ! 💓

for the team

(not like that !)

Paige bueckers x fem!reader

Warnings: there really aren't any, not that I know of.

Synopsis: Coach Geno made a bet between Paige's girlfriend (you duh) who is always (not all the time, he's dramatic) at the team's practice, if you make a shot from half court he would cancel practice for a week.

Requested !

I feel so coolness, keep the requests coming please ! Thank you for the compliment, luv you all ! -millie

"baby you have to actually try," Paige huffed, rubbing her temples. "Your aim is way off."

"I am trying ! It's hard," I whined, giving her the basketball. "You do it then, since it's soo easy." I crossed my arms, waiting for her response.

"stop being a brat, a'ight. Back up a little, let me show you how real pros do it." She dribbled the ball a few times as I backed up to watch, she bent her knees slightly as she shot the ball from half court, she made it. She surprised herself, but shook it off.

"no fair, you have years of experience.. and luck." I whined as she passed me the ball. "Noo, I don't want it." I whined more, passing it back to her.

"And I don't want practice, so either you keep practicing or my whole team will literally drag me, especially KK." She demanded, my frown becoming more visible, her expression quickly softening. "I didn't mean it like that, m'sorry. C'mere," she dropped the ball, letting it roll as she pulled me closer by my waist.

"you were so close, so why give up now? Come on, pleasee," she pleaded, gently holding the side of my face.

"fine, but you owe me." I say looking up at her. Her hands falling to my ass, squeezing it gently, with a smirk. "Paige !"

"my bad," she chuckled as she pulled away, walking over to get the basketball that rolled away. She picks it up and passes it to me. We got right back to practicing, for almost an hour.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

Tomorrow,

The whole UCONN wbb was sitting on the sidelines as Coach Geno passed me the ball, I was standing half court.

"do I go now?" I asked softly, really nervous.

"Y/n if you miss-" Ice starts, Paige quickly cutting her off.

"stop, she's already nervous."

"both of you, please shut up." Azzi says, and she looks me in the eye nodding slightly.

I dribbled the ball.

One

Two

Three...

I bent my knees slightly, just like Paige did last night and I shot it. Everyone held their breaths crossing their fingers. Geno's eyes squinting to see if it'll go in or not.

I made it !

Loud cheering begins as the team ran over to me, Paige picking e up in spinning around. KK running around the courts yelling, Nika looked so relieved, thanking me. Paige puts me down quickly to run around with KK. Ines began skipping towards me and she hugged me tightly, thanking me.

"I can't breathe.."

"oh- sorry," she let go of the hug, Paige and KK running over to me.

"Y/n, you did that," KK hyped me up, Paige wrapping her arm around my shoulder.

"can we get chipotle?" I asked Paige, looking up at her, since she was driving.

"anything you want, I'll get it, extra chicken, extra guac, allat. I'll buy you boba too-"

"me too?" KK asked.

"definitely not." Paige said almost immediately.

"that's why you suck at rocket League,"

[alotofpockets]

When your heart stops beating | Part 1 | Leah Williamson x Lioness!Reader

Where you go down on the pitch and go into cardiac arrest

Warnings: cardiac arrest, CPR, AED, possibly incorrect medical terms

A/n: Happy birthday @wosoamazing, this one is for you!

Read Part 2 here

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.1k

-----

“She does know this game day walk is meant to be relaxing, right?” Millie asks Leah, while the two of them watch you run around with Grace. Leah’s face lights up as you rush past and your giggles reach her ears. “I think she knows, but that she doesn’t care.” 

Where Leah was often found in a quiet corner of the room playing her sudoku’s, you were always running around and doing something active. Today on your game day walk, that consisted of playing tag with Grace. 

“I don’t know how you keep up with her.” Millie had known the both of you for a long time, and yet the question always lingered somewhere in the back of her mind. Leah Williamson was usually the quiet and composed one, especially since she became a part of the captain’s team. You, on the other hand, were always present and expressive. 

“I don’t have to keep up, cause at the end of the day, she always comes running back to me.” Leah said with a content smile. As if you heard Leah’s words, you came running towards her, “Hi baby.” You put your arms around her as you walked backwards for a few steps. “Hi love, did you win?” 

The smirk on your face instantly gave away the answer. “I did, ‘cause Gracie gave up when I was too fast for her.” Leah kissed your forehead, “That’s my girl. Hope you have enough energy left for the match.” You make your way around so you’re now walking next to Leah, “Oh yeah, don’t worry cap, you know I’ve got plenty more where this came from.” Leah rolls her eyes, she might be your captain, but she hated when you called her that.

You had been right though, you were running up and down the flank as if you hadn’t been running around all morning already. You went into halftime with a 1-1 score, knowing Leah was going to give her captain’s speech about being better on set pieces. There had been plenty of opportunities to have broken the tie with them, but hadn’t been able to get the ball in the back of the net from them yet. 

After halftime you're able to break free on the left hand side of the pitch, you manage to get the ball in the far corner where you are quickly surrounded by two defenders. You tried to get out with some fancy footwork, but they weren’t falling for your tricks. Instead you opted on getting the corner, so you kicked the ball against one of them to get it out of bounds. 

Alex ran up to take the corner, while you made your way to the box. You give each other a quick high five, “Let’s show Leah what we can do from set pieces.” Alex said before continuing on her way to the corner.

Once everyone was in position, Alex lifted her hands, and sent her cross in. The ball was coming right in front of the goal, you ran forward and jumped up into the air hoping to reach it. What you hadn’t seen was that the goalkeeper had taken a couple of steps forward and took a firm stand to punch the ball out of the way. Less than a second after you head the ball in the direction of the goal a pair of fists collide with your chest. A shot of pain goes through your whole body as you fall to the ground. The moment your head hits the ground, the world around you goes blank.

Alessia was the first one by your side, as she had stood ready at the back post. You weren’t moving, and you weren’t responding. Alessia looks up with a face full of worry, only to meet Leah’s panicked eyes. 

The medical team was quick by your side, and told the surrounding players to give them some space. Alessia stood up and pulled Leah away from the scene, “Come on, they need space to help her.”

“She isn’t breathing.” One medic said to the other. He went to check your pulse next, “Her pulse is weak. Let’s get her on some air and get her on a heart rate monitor.” The medic made quick work of getting the right equipment, while the players watched the scene unfold in horror, their faces pale with fear and concern. 

They put the oxygen mask on your face, and connect the electrodes to your chest. Your heartbeat was shown on the monitor, and like the medic said it was weak. The beeps sounding from the monitor started slowing down. “Heart rate is dropping. Prepare for CPR.”

Beth stood with her arm around a crying Leah. It was hard for the whole team to see you on the ground like this, but Beth knew that someone needed to be strong for Leah. The rest of the team stood grouped to the side, worriedly looking at their unconscious teammate.

Leah fell to her knees when they started doing CPR on you, Beth tried comforting her as best as she could while tears started forming in her eyes as well. An ambulance was driven onto the pitch, and the paramedics ran up to take over CPR. 

One of the paramedics took over compressions, while the other got the defibrillator ready. The paramedic halts the compressions for a moment as they cut off your shirt. “Hold compressions.” The lead paramedics says, and places the defibrillator paddles on your chest. 

The whole stadium was quiet as the paramedics got ready to shock your heart. “Charging.” The paramedic said, followed by a beep signalling that the defibrillator was ready to shock, “Clear!” 

Your body jolted from the shock, and the paramedics eyed the monitor hopefully. Still nothing. They started compressions again, while the machine recharged. 

“Come on, stay with me.” Leah cried out as the pedals were brought to your chest again. “Clear!” Another shock jolts through your body. “We’ve got her!” The paramedic says, his voice full of relief as the monitor shows a steady heartbeat.  

Your heart might be beating again, but you were still unconscious. “Alright, let’s get her to a hospital.” The stretcher was brought from the back of the ambulance, and you were moved onto it. 

Leah was taking off her armband and shoving it in Beth’s hands. “I have to go with her.” Beth understood, “Go, we’ve got this.” Leah runs over to the ambulance and gets into the back with you. Her eyes were focussed on the steady rhythm of your heart beat on the monitor, while she held your hand tightly. “Stay with me baby.” She whispered over and over again. Leah was definitively in shock, having just watched her girlfriend die and be brought back to life, but your fight wasn’t over yet, you still had to wake up.

Leah sat at your bedside, her hand clutched around yours. The doctor's had done many tests and scans, and had told her that all the tests came back negative and your scans were clear. They had to wait until you woke up to fully assess your memory and motor function. While the doctors were sounding hopeful, Leah still feared the worst.

Doctor's checked on you every 30 minutes. Leah never moved away, staying by your side, holding your hand. It was after the fourth check in that Leah suddenly felt you squeezed her hand. She shot up instantly, “Baby, I'm here.” 

You slowly open your eyes and take in your surroundings. A hospital? You’d have to ask someone what happened, but first you had a more urgent question, so you turn towards the voice. “Did it go in?”

Leah’s eyes filled up with tears. “Did what go in?” You frown, Leah wanted better set pieces and now she didn't know what you were referring to? “The corner, did I score?” Your girlfriend chuckles lightly, realising that this meant you remembered what happened before the accident. “Yes, you did.” Leah wipes the tears from her cheeks.

“Did we win?” You ask next, still having more important questions on your mind than the one relating to you being in a hospital bed. “I don’t know actually.” You’re about to take out the nasal cannula cause you didn’t like the feeling. “Baby, don't touch that, you gotta leave that in.” 

Leah pressed the help button on your bedside, like the nurse had urged her to do when you woke up. “What’s going on Lee?” She shakes her head, “Let’s wait for the doctor’s.” You didn’t understand why Leah didn’t just tell you what was going on, so you pushed more. “Why so serious, love? I just want to know why I can’t take these tubes off.” Leah really tried not being the one to break this to you, but she knew you wouldn’t drop it. 

“Because I watched you die.” You watch her in disbelief. “Your heart stopped on the pitch, they had to shock your heart back to life. You aren’t taking that off until a doctor tells you it’s okay.” The realisation of what had happened started dawning on you. “Copy that, cap.” She rolls her eyes, but steps closer to hug you. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” The nurse walked in. “I see someone is awake. How are you feeling?” You look between Leah and the nurse. “Leah, said I couldn’t take this oxygen thing off, because I died. Did I really die?” The nurse nods, “You did for a moment. Your heart stopped beating after your accident, but the medical team and the paramedics got you back. After that you were brought here, all your tests and scans looked good. The doctor just wants to do a couple tests before you can take the nasal cannula out, I will ask her to come down here soon, I promise.”

Sure enough the doctor showed up in your room within the next five minutes. She did some tests and you were able to take the tube away. “Alright, I want to keep you overnight, just to make sure. Some more tests in the morning, and if those are clear you can go home.”

You couldn’t wait to get home and no longer be in the gloomy hospital room. Lotte had come by with some dinner, and your bags from the stadium. Leah used the time Lotte was there to keep you company to quickly get changed out of her kit, and into the clothes she had packed this morning when she left home. 

After some dinner, Lotte took a picture of the both of you to send to the group chat with an update to the rest of the team. The admin team contacted you to ask if you consented to them using the picture in your injury update post, which you agreed to.

-----

Lionesses just posted

Lionesses: After some scary moments today, we are happy to share that Y/n is concious and doing well.

She will continue to be monitored, but should make a full recovery.

Sending all our love and well wishes towards you, Y/n!

-----

Leah stayed the night, there was no way she was going to leave your side any time soon. She spent the evening cuddled up with you on the hospital bed, watching a movie together. For you the accident was just what people told you had happened, otherwise it was just one big blank space and then waking up in the hospital. Of course it had been scary to hear that your heart stopped beating, but Leah had seen all that happen. She watched you die, and that visual wasn’t going to leave her head any time soon.

The next morning you successfully finished all the doctor’s tests, and were ready to go home. Lotte was there again to pick you up, since you had both gotten here in the back of the ambulance. 

The doctor’s had put you on bedrest, which you weren’t looking forward to, but you knew it was for your own safety. Leah had already let the staff know that she was taking the week off to be with you, which they fully understood. 

After Lotte dropped the two of you off at your house, Leah took you right to the bedroom where she told you to stay put. Five minutes later she came back with blankets, pillows, water bottles, and snacks. “We’re having a movie marathon, doctor’s orders.” You smiled at her fondly, usually you had too much energy to sit through a full movie, and you realised that Leah was going to take advantage of your bedrest situation. Not that you mattered one bit though, you were all for a night of cuddles with her.

-----

Continue reading part 2!

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[nanivinsmoke]

✩ Eat Me, Number One.

✩ allmight x pro!heroFem reader

wanting to get a little taste of the number one hero, during the hero’s banquet.

✩ warnings and tags: public sex, secret sex, ass eating, rough sex, multiple orgasms, nipple play, breeding, size difference, age gap, (late 20s reader), etc.

shout out to my editor, tysm <333!

“fuck, this latex is sticking to my skin. shota, can we go? im not in the mood for this uppity shit, maybe we can get some ramen or something?”

“no, unfortunately the both of us are stuck here. i lost yamada an hour ago, which is really odd since he’s the loudest one out of all of us.” aizawa, your best friend and colleague, replied as he took a bite of the salty chip in his mouth. you sighed and downed the shot in front of you, while tugging on the latex of your hero suit with your free hand.

the three of you were currently attending the annual hero’s banquet, which was made for all heroes to meet and mingle with each other. yamada had spotted the karaoke room and tip-toed away from the group when the three of you arrived, leaving you and aizawa alone. you both hated coming to these things, but yamada forced both of you to come every time.

“gonna find the bathroom and possibly yamada, so we can leave.” your dry-eyed friend gave you a nod before you took your leave; grabbing a shot from a tray a waiter was carrying—downing it like it was nothing. getting hammered was your goal. maybe you could get *him* off of your mind. you maneuvered through the crowd of heros, mind bubbling with thoughts before your eyes landed on the huge figure of the number one hero; allmight.

it might’ve been the liquor finally taking its toll on your body, making your legs feel like jelly or just seeing him period, that had butterflies filling your stomach. you were beyond nervous, it had been months since the last time you’ve seen him. the last time you did wasn’t the best experience. "duty calls" he had said before he ran off. but, you weren’t gonna let that one time stop you from saying ‘hello’ and running off to find the bathroom.

you managed to walk over and tap the bottom of his muscular back, his seven foot frame towering over you as he turned toward you. his usual ‘smiling’ eyes softened when he saw you and he kept that same bright smile like always. “y/n, it’s good to see you.”

“likewise,” you quickly turned on your heels as your memories from that terrible night plagued your mind. “wait—y/n,” he grabbed hold of your wrist and pulled you back towards him, his eyes scanning your face before dropping to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “can we talk?” you gave a quick nod and he pulled you away. you wanted to get answers, closure for the last time you two saw each other, so you could finally stop cringing at the memory.

the older pro hero led you through the crowd and into an empty room, which happened to be the bathroom. the seven foot tall man closed the door behind you both, and locked it—before turning to look at your smaller, yet curvy frame.

“y/n, I just wanted to apologize for last time. it wasn’t your fault that the date ended like that. i never meant to leave you like that. i know duty calls, but I should have never left like that without telling you, i'm sorry.” his voice was soft, sincere, and you could tell by his body language that he truly meant it.

a few months ago, you had went on a date with the number one hero. it was all going good, you had gotten to know each other really well during drinks and when you two had finally made it your table for food, he just disappeared in a blink of an eye. he didn’t call nor try to reach out to you, which made you become very insecure—leading you to believe that he didn’t actually like you.

“you don’t have to apologize—“

“but, i do. you were wonderful and im a little disappointed I couldn’t make this into something more serious; didn’t have the opportunity to kiss you—.”

“you wanted to kiss me?” it was silent for a moment, both of your eyes locked onto each other’s. the more the two of you stared at each other, the more your body temperature rose. everything about him was so captivating. maybe that was a perk of being one of the best hero’s japan has ever seen, but you were definitely falling for him.

it was sudden but his lips were on yours and all you could do was happily accept. your lips melted onto each other’s, dancing a smoother dance than a tango—with your tongue sliding into his mouth, tongues swirling around each other's. you couldn’t fight your growing arousal anymore, the crush that you had on the older man was bigger than ever.

he swiftly picked you up, not breaking the kiss not once. it was like a scene in a movie with the way he handled you. he propped you up against the white bathroom door, while he made love to your mouth. you clutched onto his yellow locks, pulling away from this kiss that had left you breathless. “think you teased me enough, number one. i need more of you.”

he had never been more turned on, until now. with one hand holding you up, he used the other hand to unzip your hero costume—freeing your plump and swollen breasts. allmight quickly wrapped his lips around your tender love buds, began to suck on them like it was the best candy he had ever tasted. you couldn’t suppress your moans; letting them flow freely out of your kiss-bitten lips.

he removed his mouth from your nipples, kissing between your breats and down your stomach. “allmight—please~”

“toshinori,” he corrected with a squeeze to your ass; making you squeal out. you had long forgotten about the party, or the possibility of other people being there.

“toshinori, please. just fuck me already.” he was taken aback by your vulgar words, but it riled him up even more. your hero suit fell down in an instant and he was lifting you off to the other side of the bathroom. using his quirk, he slid the toiletries off the sink’s counter and placed you on your knees—your ass sitting up in the air just for him; allowing him to dive his head right in between.

gasping, you held onto the marble countertop, while he licked your from your ass all the way down to your swollen clit. his fluid mixing with yours created a slippery mess, which caused you to go crazy. no wonder he was considered a pro.

“shit toshi—just like that, fuck…” you bounced your ass back onto his face, his big hands gripped your waist tighter; lips still attached to your wet clit. you could feel your orgasm creeping up on you and you were ready to accept it. however, much to your dismay, he pulled away from your dripping wet backside.

“wait toshi, i was gonna cum.” he ignored you, flipping you over onto your back; looking at you in all your glory before he gripped himself through his suit. “look, im going to warn you. you might not be able to take all of me, and that’s okay—,” you cut off his rambling by replacing his hand with yours on his bulge, fondling it. it left him groaning, eyes shutting from the pleasure.

“i'm a big girl, i can handle it. besides, a hero never backs down from a fight.” he chuckled at your response and gave you one last look, before he let his blue hero suit and briefs fall to the ground; showing all of him.

you could’ve sworn your eyes had fell out of your head due to how widen you opened them. standing about nine inches tall, his cock greeted you; dripping nothing but translucent fluid. it stood against his abs, twitching with need. not only was he lengthy, he was girthy too. you couldn’t help but to gulp as you thought about him entering you.

as much as you were nervous, you swallowed that doubt and angled him towards your aching entrance; after all you were a hero, you couldn’t let this scare you.

pushing him inside of you, you winced at the pressure—you had never been spread open like that. profanities flew out your mouth as he helped push himself inside, your soft walls clenching around his shaft; making him curse lowly.

he was only half way inside, since that’s all that could fit, and he began to move his hips slowly. the more toshinori moved—the wetter you became. soon, the sound of your cunt squelching and your lewd mewls filled the bathroom—driving the older man crazy. he was losing control over himself, each time you made those sexy noises; he wanted to slam himself deeper inside of you. to hear you yelp out and to feel you squeeze around him. to see all the cream build around him. to see how far he could drive you to insanity just by fucking you.

despite being a hero, the way he was thinking about punishing you with his dick; contradicted his heroic beliefs.

you on the other hand felt like you were going to die, in the most pleasurable way possible. each time he plunged inside of you, his thick tip hit your spot everytime—causing your toes to curl so tight; they felt like they were going to fall off. you babbled and moaned as he fucked the living shit out of you, calling his name while an orgasm ripped through you.

this was the most intense orgasm you had ever had. you were disconnected from reality a bit because of it, so you didn’t realize that you were no longer on the sink’s counter and now on the bath’s plush blue rug—until toshinori slammed down into you once again.

“fuck, you just keep getting tighter and wetter!” you had never heard him curse this much before, it was turning you on more and more.

he had you in the mating press position, hitting your most sensitive spot each time, while your hips and his balls met each time. you cunt was beyond wet, your juices dripped out and slid down onto the ground—creating a huge puddle underneath you.

you could feel him twitch inside of you and his strokes became faster and harder. he was cumming, hard.

a knock on the bathroom door startled you, causing you to look at it.

“hey! can you hurry up, i really gotta use it,” a voice could be heard from the other side, following another knock. you looked at allmight, waiting for his next move.

“in a minute….having some—shit—s-s-stomach problems”

“c’mon dude! you’ve been in there for like an hour”

“in a minute!” he yelled back, not stopping his movements. he was going to cum and nothing was going to stop him from finishing. with a few more slams, he released inside of you; while you came once more with him—this time you squirted all over him.

he grabbed your smaller body and rolled over on his back, with you lying on top of his sweaty, naked body.

“we’re going to need a plan to come out of here without them suspecting a thing,” you chuckled, peppering his chiseled face with kisses.

“this is why we have quirks, to get out of situations like this. now let’s get dressed, so i could show you more of why I’m number one~”

[celestial-grls]

Courtside Crew - Paige Bueckers x fem!reader

summary: you and your daughter Zoe attend Paige's basketball game word count: 1k a/n: was having real bad baby fever and could not stop thinking about Paige as a mom

"Remember, baby, one at a time." You assisted your toddler with her bag of fruit snacks while trying to keep your eye on the game.

It was the 4th quarter of a game against Chicago, and the Valkyries were struggling with some players in foul trouble. It was loud in the arena, with fans on all sides groaning as the refs called another technical foul. Even though you and Paige have been together since she started playing professionally, you still got nervous about her games.

You and Paige welcomed your daughter Zoe about two and a half years ago, and she gets as excited as Paige does for any basketball-related events. She munched on her fruit snacks, grabbing two or three in her tiny little fists as you nervously tapped your fingers against her leg.

Zoe has successfully attended a handful of games, mainly the home ones, since traveling with a toddler isn't a science either you or Paige have mastered yet. She loved coming to them because it meant seeing her mom in action, running up and down the court, and making baskets. The loud arena erupts in cheers, and every time you cheer, she repeats after you despite not quite knowing all the rules of basketball yet.

There was only another minute and a half left to the game, with the Valkyrie three points behind Chicago. Paige had passed the ball to one of her teammates from the corner of the three-point line. When the ball swished into the basket, it secured enough lead for the Valkyrie to take home the win.

You and Zoe watched with your eyes glued to the court, Zoe's head tucked safely under your chin while she wriggled on your lap to follow where the ball was headed. The opposing team brought the ball up to the basket, ready to make the shot, before it was blocked by one of Paige's teammates. There was only enough time left in the shot clock for the Valkyrie to try and score.

Paige was laser-focused on protecting the ball, dribbling it up the court, and making a pass to one of her teammates. Right as her teammate was ready to release from the paint, they got blocked by a member of the Chicago Sky. She passed the ball to Paige with ten seconds left on the clock.

You could see the gears turning in your wife's head as she stepped back to shoot from the three-point line. You've seen her do it a million times, and it still makes your entire body buzz with excitement. Once the ball bounces against the backboard and falls into the net, you and Zoe shoot up and scream.

"Zoe, baby, did you see that!?" You couldn't contain your excitement as you propped her up against your hip, her hair bouncing as she laughed happily.

The game was complete once the buzzer sounded, with the Valkyrie winning by six points. The entire arena cheered for the team's second straight win. You grabbed your purse and held Zoe's hand as you shuffled through the crowd to find Paige.

"Mommy, you won! You won!" Before you could even put your daughter down properly, she ran straight to Paige on the court, finishing up a quick post-game interview.

Her little sneakers squeak against the floor before Paige picks her up, holds her against her hip, and kisses the fat of her cheek. "Hi, princess! Yes, we did. Where's Mama?"

You were close by, instantly lighting up at the sight of Paige holding your daughter. Paige's cheeks were flushed from playing the entire last quarter, and she was all teeth, alternating between smiling and smacking kisses to your daughter's head.

She excitedly whispers to Zoe when she spots you coming over, "Oh! There she is, Zozo! You see her?"

Zoe whips her head around until she sees you, getting completely sandwiched between you and Paige as you go to hug the both of them.

Paige goes to press a kiss to your lips, the top of Zoe's head tickling your chin. The chaos and excess energy of the game leave Paige when she finally gets to see you and Zoe after all of it. Her relief shows as she asks you, "Did I make my girls proud today?"

"Of course, baby. You always do," you affectionately gush. Paige carries herself with so much confidence no matter what, but parenthood has seriously brought out a different side to her than you ever knew. Watching her play so selflessly because she knows Zoe is watching makes you fall harder for her every game.

Zoe nods in agreement, wraps her arms around Paige's neck, and tells her, "You did good, Mommy!"

Paige smiles at Zoe, ticking her neck as she bounces lightly and tells her, "Thank you, princess. I gotta go do the cameras. Are you gonna be good for Mama?"

In toddler speak, 'do the cameras' meant post-game conferences and press in general. Usually, Paige would go while you and Zoe headed back home and tried to get her to bed at a reasonable hour.

Zoe nods at Paige seriously before asking, "Story tonight?"

Paige replies, "You can count on it, princess." She kisses you goodbye and hands Zoe off to you. As much as Paige loves her job, she can't wait to come home and spend time with you and Zoe. She sends you a text as she walks through the tunnel.

Your phone buzzes with the text that reads: No falling asleep on the couch before I get home

You smile before typing back: Hurry home and you won't have to worry abt it!!

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter five)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder) , MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, roughhousing, eventual piv, one chapter specific dubcon scene (pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 5/6

words: um. 9.5k (sorry? but also you're welcome??)

chapter warnings: this chapter contains a scene that falls solidly into dubcon territory, so please proceed with caution, stay safe out there.

moodboards

series masterlist

a/n: WELL. here we are, almost at the end of our little rollercoaster ride. i've lost brain cells over this chapter, almost cut it up into smaller chunks, but ended up leaving it as long as i originally planned (longer, in fact. whoops). as always, feedback is very welcome + encouraged (i love hearing/reading your thoughts as things progress) buckle up, please do take note of the dubcon warning, prepare for the angst, and most importantly, enjoy!

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

He was back to ignoring you again.

But this time, the feeling was mutual. You’d never felt as thoroughly rejected as you did the night he had you walk back to your room, legs weak, wrapped in nothing but his shirt.

Once upon a time, this scenario would have been one you dreamed of, but reality often falls flat on its face. You wouldn’t have dreamt of walking away from him like this if you’d known it would feel this empty.

Humiliation ran rampant through your body, starting with the tears you blinked away as you left his room, closing the door behind you, and then flooding over as you stepped into your own room, slumping on the bed, curling up into yourself and weeping, pressing your still aching legs together but too upset to finish yourself off.

You kicked yourself for getting carried away, for getting too loud, too possessive with his face between your thighs and your hand in his hair. For getting so caught up in the moment, briefly forgetting your games, and for believing even for a second that you would be on the same page.

This push and pull had begun to wear you thin, and you were tired. So, you slept. Until nearly midday the next morning, when Lucille knocked on your door to remind you it was time for your monthly PR debrief.

The good news, though arguable at this point, was that your arrangement hadn’t been affected by recent events. At least, not on paper. Cordelia ran you through each gala, public appearance, and dinner, barely noticing your preoccupation, rambling on about speeches, coordinating outfits, dates and times of events, what to say and how to say it.

For you - and you could only imagine, Coriolanus too - everything had changed over the span of a month. 

Your shame made you abnormally quiet, head hung low, gaze averted, nodding along as Cordelia prompted either a response or approval from you. Snow just stared, glancing at her only when completely necessary, but otherwise, he didn’t take his eyes off you.

He was enjoying this. The sick fuck. You were glad when the meeting ended and you could scamper into the library, eager to lose yourself in a story of any kind other than the one you were living.

This went on. By day, you barely looked at him; by night, you tried over and over to prove that your own fingers were enough to keep you satisfied. To convince yourself that you just wanted him, you didn’t need him.

Because if you needed him, then he called the shots. He would win. And victorious as he may seem, the game wasn’t over yet. You’d slipped up in a moment of vulnerability, he’d tricked you into a corner just to prove his point.

You wanted him, you didn’t need him. But if you did… well.

He was going to have to need you more.

You held back this time. Keeping your cards safe, close to your chest. In a strange way, you found a kind of solace in your arrangement. Recent events had caused it to feel unstable, breakable even, but the meeting had ensured that it was all still on the right track. It allowed you to take a small piece of what you wanted from him without guilt or repercussions. After all, it was planned out to benefit you both. Then, when you were ready, and with a gentle hand, you began to weaponise it, loading it up in the barrel of a gun aimed directly at Snow.

You didn't have much left, but you had this. You knew where your promiscuity had led you. This time, you wanted to pull on his heart strings. Make him feel remorse, or whatever similar emotion he was capable of. Make him soften to you. Torture him with almosts that were never enough.

So when you took, you took cautiously, tentatively. You deepened your usually light kisses to what was just past socially acceptable, only to pull back when Snow began to lean in, turning away and smiling at the people surrounding you, or full-on entering into conversation with somebody else. You'd brush your thumb against his when you held hands, waiting for him to look at you, drawing your hand away when he did. You'd offer smiles to everyone but him, talk and laugh a little louder when you could feel him watching.

You pretended he didn’t exist. You could feel him begin to simmer. It wasn't as brazen as your usual game, but it was working.

Until it wasn’t.

“Something’s wrong, what is it?”

Lucille’s face dropped, her shaking hands lowering from the zip she was struggling with. You were getting ready for a luncheon, and you’d picked out an emerald green dress, one of your favorites for daytime events.

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t notice, ma’am. I apologise. It’s my brother, he… it’s getting worse again.”

“Sit down for a second. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You listened to Lucille open up uncomfortably, visibly nervous that you would offer your financial support as you’d done before. But you didn’t, sparing her from having to turn you down.

Lucille was stubborn - she would never accept your charity. She was more than happy to work for her wages, and frequently worked longer hours. As months went by, you’d brought her pay up as high as you could without her noticing. But now things were getting more critical, and you knew there was only one thing you could do.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Go and see your brother.”

“But you’re not dressed-”

“I’ll take care of it. Go home, Lucille. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She smiled softly.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

You’d tried with the zip, you really had. You didn’t want to have to knock on Snow’s office door with two favors to ask instead of one, but the dress was tight and the zip kept getting jammed. So, there you stood, dress half undone at the back, heart in your throat. You counted your blessings; at least it wasn’t his bedroom. You didn’t think you could face him at all in there. You heard typing from inside.

“Come in.”

You pushed the door open, feeling like an intruder.

“Sorry, I just… Could you help me with this?” Your hand tightened behind your back, holding the dress together.

He narrowed his eyes. He was already in his suit, typewriter on the desk in front of him.

“Lucille forget how to do her job?”

“I don’t need snide right now. Please, Coriolanus? I’ll explain when I’m not half naked. It’s drafty in here.”

You tried to make it clear in your tone that this wasn’t some ploy. You weren’t sure you had many of those left to offer.

“Fine.” He sighed, and stood, making no motion towards you, so you crossed the room, gripping onto the fabric, turning your back to him.

His hand came to rest on your waist as the other took the zipper, and you tried not to flinch at his touch. You pressed your lips together as he carefully zipped you up, cold metal sending a chill down your spine. Or maybe that was just him. You felt your eyes slide shut and your lips part as his hand lingered on your waist. You couldn’t hear anything but your heartbeat and the tick of his grandfather clock.

“Is that okay? Not too tight?” His breath on your neck gave you goosebumps, you hoped desperately that he wouldn’t notice.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

The second his hand fell from your waist, you missed it. You carefully met his eye; he was looking at you like you had something he wanted.

So why hadn’t he wanted you? You’d been right there, and he’d turned you down.

He cleared his throat.

“I should finish this letter before we leave. Was there anything else?”

You paused.

“Actually, there is. Could I ask you a favor?” You glanced off to the side, suddenly very interested in the knots of wood on his desk. What helped was that you'd never seen inside this room before, and you hid behind your curiosity like it was a lifeline.

“What is it?”

“It’s…” you lowered your voice, “it’s about Lucille. Her brother, actually. He’s in the hospital again. The family can’t afford the medical bills to keep him in for as long as he needs. I’d like to foot the bill, but I can’t do it anonymously. I thought… well, I was wondering if you could pull a few strings.”

You were overexplaining, something you weren’t at all used to doing, but these days, just being in the same room as him made you nervous. You stared at his desk, at the lack of photographs on it, the single pen laying to the side, the smoothness of the glaze.

It was quiet for a moment.

“Consider it done.”

You looked up.

“Really?”

“Did you think I’d say no?” He asked.

“I- no, but…”

“It’s something that matters to you.”

You blinked, dumbfounded at how simply he put it.

“Yes. It is. Thank you, Coriolanus.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll make sure it’s anonymous.”

“Thank you. Or, I mean…”

He looked at you, and you wanted to melt. Wanted to throw strategy out the window, god, but -

You couldn’t. It hadn’t worked last time. You’d hoped to avoid a stalemate, but here you were, sat right in the middle of one.

“The car’s coming in a half hour. Are you almost ready?” He asked.

“Yes. Almost.”

The luncheon was going well, at first. You were at the head of a large table, sat beside Snow, straightening your salad fork as he stood up to make a speech. You’d been glancing at him throughout the afternoon; it wasn’t so hard to anymore. It felt like his willingness to help Lucille without question, just because it was what you wanted, had more of an effect on you in five minutes than the entire week of your teasing had on him. One conversation, and the tides had changed.

As he began talking, you started to realise that your gentler approach may have been affecting you more than it had him. The party was transfixed; people loved to hear him talk, and you were proud. He had a certain way with words; you knew better than anyone. You’d fallen victim to them.

You weren’t sure why his words affected you – you’d been there, you’d agreed when Cordelia had suggested he say something nice about you in this particular speech, really make the crowd swoon, lay it on thick - but when he started to talk about you, about how proud he was to have you by his side, how strong you were-

You knew he was just reciting a script written for him, but you couldn’t help it. The tears began to quietly fall. You thanked whatever higher being was listening for not letting anyone notice.

Or so you thought.

It was just typical that out of all the people that could’ve noticed, the one person who knew better was the only one who did.

The rest of them would’ve brushed it off as you simply being moved by emotion, honored by his kind words. You blinked away your tears, taking small, polite sips of your wine. It was painful because you knew it wasn’t true. None of it was, you knew he could never say those words and mean them.

And he knew that too.

It was dark when you got home, and you trailed behind him awkwardly on your way upstairs.

“Can I have a word?” his voice was gentle, and it set you on edge.

“Sure.”

You stood awkwardly in the hallway, then he led you into the office. He leaned against his desk, and you shifted your feet where you stood, eyes on the floor, on the art on the walls, on anything other than him.

“You were upset today.” He started.

You swallowed.

“It won’t happen again, I promise.” you kept your voice steady. He paused.

“If that was my fault, I apologise. If I took it too far, if I upset you-”

You weren’t sure which part he was talking about, but you finally looked at him in a sort of distant defiance.

“Do you even care if I’m upset?”

“Of course I do. Especially when it’s something that affects you… publicly.”

You huffed, forcing yourself to stare him down.

“Because that’s all that matters, right? What the public sees?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure it is. It’s okay, Snow. I’m a big girl. And I can take a hint, too. So don’t worry about me, I’ll be just fine. Business as usual, right?”

He just stared, puzzled. You took a breath.

“Look, it’s been a long day. Can I go, or are you going to keep me here all night?”

The silence was like smoke, clouding between you. His brow furrowed, calculating. Then he sighed, long and heavy, and you tried not to let it phase you.

“Fine. Go.”

You nodded.

“Goodnight.”

You’d never been more relieved to get away from him. Your broken walls were starting to build back up. You wouldn’t let him break you, you couldn’t. You were stronger than this.

That night, for the first time, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly what you wanted.

“Darling, you look ravishing.” Lilian drawled. “It’s a pity Snow is so far across the room, and can’t appreciate you. If I dressed half as nicely as you did, perhaps my dear husband wouldn’t be screwing the maid.”

A scandalised chorus of giggles erupted from the group. It was a pretty dress, one of your best. Long and smooth black fabric, ruched at the waist, with a deep cut up the leg that was just acceptable for an evening gala. You stood tall, champagne glass in hand, gossiping with your friends.

Well.

Friends was being generous. You kept few true friends, and they would hardly be gossiping in a circle like this.

Acquaintances was a better fit. Pawns if you were being brutally honest. Politicians’ wives, senators’ mistresses, a chancellor’s daughter or two. Pieces of chess, really, in this bigger game. Anyone who could help you climb higher, whisper carefully spun words into open ears at your whim.

“I just know George would rip that dress off me the moment I got home. He might not even be able to wait, and just pull me into a closet here instead.”

Another eruption of giggles.

“Well, I’m flattered, my darlings.” You smiled. “This is one of my favorites. Coriolanus treats me well.”

“I’m sure he does,” a suggestive glance from Lilian, “in all the ways one would expect, I assume?”

You gasped in mock modesty.

“Lilian,” you drawled, “I certainly hope you’re not suggesting I disclose our-”

“Oh, just tell us dear, please. We’re all dying to know. You’re always so coy about it. What’s he like?”

You pulled your lips into a knowing smile, your perfectly painted face helping you slide into this facade. You scanned your eyes across the ballroom, across to Snow. He stood talking to a group of men, colleagues of his. You recognised their faces.

It had been four days since the luncheon. Four days since your outburst. Four days of hiding away. You’d been dreading tonight’s gala, but it gave you an excuse to dress nicely, and as soon as you’d arrived, you and Coriolanus has gone your separate ways.

“Well,” you hummed, masking your uncertainty as anticipation, “he can be a slight tease.”

A few dramatic gasps sounded through the group, and you turned back to face them, their eyes wide and expectant.

“Salacious. Do tell.” Another voice piped up with a giggle.

“He can be fun to toy with. I do enjoy pushing back, but sometimes he takes it… a little far.” You said carefully.

“My, who would have known? But you get what you want, my dear, surely.” Lilian asked.

You smiled, glancing back at him, suit pristine with a white rose in his breast pocket. You hated how good he looked. He was smiling politely at the group of men around him, but you could tell from the tick in his jaw that something was bothering him.

“Sometimes, I do. Others, I wait for my chance to push his buttons right back.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? I don’t suppose,” she pressed, “that you’re in one of those… entanglements at the moment?”

“Lilian, darling, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Another giggle sounded from the group.

“Oh, my.” Lilian repeated, glancing between the two of you. “I do hope you’ve been making him suffer.”

“Well, I’m playing a longer game this time, so I’m afraid there hasn’t been as much fun lately.”

Lilian sucked in a breath, like the perfect idea had just dawned on her.

“Well, I see no moment like the present. You’re here, you’re dressed marvellously, I propose you walk right over there and show him just what he’s missing.”

A chorus of yes and do it and we’ll cheer you ons rang out. Loosened by the champagne, you looked across the room at him again. You could do it. He wouldn’t be able to react, it would be the most perfect torture. You suddenly decided that you were done making small moves, done playing it safe like this was some schoolgirl crush. It was time to step up to the mark again. Take your power back.

Your group could sense the newfound determination in you. You smiled, slow and cunning.

Show him what he’s missing.

Simple. It’s what you did best.

“Watch and learn, ladies.”

A hush fell over the group as they watched you run a hand through your hair, handed your glass to one of them, and pressed your lips together. Before you’d left the house you’d added a swipe of red lipstick, dark red, almost bloodlike. It always made you feel more confident and tonight, you needed the pick me up.  

The middle of the ballroom was practically empty; the dancing was over, and everyone had long since gathered in groups to the sides. So you turned heads when you stepped out, the only one on the floor, black satin hugging your frame like a second skin. You didn’t look at them, you made a steady beeline to Snow. You felt more and more eyes on you as you crossed the room, heels clicking on the floor. They all watched, waiting for… something. Coriolanus didn’t look up until you were a mere few steps away, now deep in some conversation he was going to forget very shortly.

Blue eyes flashed to yours with a confused apprehension, but you didn’t give yourself time to think about the twitch of his brow, or the looks on the faces of his colleagues. You didn’t think about the way he opened his mouth as if to say something, only for it to be swallowed away.

You didn’t think about any of that.

Because your lips were on his.

Hot and hungry, teeth clashing, your hand grabbing the back of his neck as he leaned in, surprised at first, then warm, wanting. Lips tugging at yours like he was starving.

It was sinful.

You’d never been kissed like this before. Your fuzzy brain wondered how you’d gone through life not knowing what this felt like, the press of his lips devouring yours, heated and messy.

He kissed you like breathing, like you were his oxygen supply. His hand slid to your waist and pulled you in, and you heard the echoes of chuckling coming from around you, morphing into a few light claps.

Then, just as you felt him fully melt into you, your hand slipped higher to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of perfect platinum curls, and tugged.

It was nothing but an affectionate display to the people surrounding you, but a brazen reminder between the two of you. It was your way of showing you hadn’t forgotten, that you wouldn’t be made to feel ashamed, to cower in a corner while he got the better of you.

Not in this lifetime.

The second it happened, his breath hitched, and his hand tensed on your waist. You were the only one who caught it, getting high off the satisfaction, finally pulling away.

You weren’t sure you’d ever seen a prettier sight; his blown-out eyes, his face stained with scarlet.  

How’s that for tasting your own medicine.

Watching him attempt to collect himself was sweeter still. Watching him reset his face into one of distant amusement. He let out a small laugh, glanced at the rest of the party.

“Everything alright, doll? Had a little much champagne, perhaps?”

His colleagues chuckled, but you didn’t look their way. You stood your ground. Offered a sweet smile, but he could see your slyness.

“Oh, I’m swell. And I think I’ve had just enough, actually. I’m gonna go freshen up.”

You turned on your heel and made your way through winding halls to the bathroom, riding an adrenaline high. You picked up a glass from a server’s tray along the way – the champagne had dried out, all they were serving now was posca, which while disgusting, worked a treat to take the edge off. It wasn’t long before the door swung open and you saw Coriolanus appear behind you in the mirror.

“This is the ladies’ room, handsome.” You looked away, continuing to reapply your lipstick.

He stepped closer.

“What was that kiss about, sweetheart?” Straight to the point.

“Nothing.” You shrugged.

“Didn’t feel like nothing.”

“That’s called acting, Snow.”  You rolled your eyes, vaguely aware that your words sounded a little jumbled. You put the tube of lipstick away. “We had an audience. A rather expectant one at that.”

He folded his arms.

“I don’t like it when you catch me off guard like that. Not with people around.”

“Seemed to like it plenty to me.” You mumbled.

He didn’t answer, pacing past you to the other sink, grabbing a towel and wiping it against his face, where the red had stained his skin. It only served to spread it around further, and if you weren’t already smugly entertained by the marks you’d left on him, now it was just plain funny.

He glared at you when you laughed.

“Don’t give me that look. Here,” you offered, stepping across to him, taking the towel and wetting it, “let me.”

You wiped at a patch, but he snatched the towel back and took over.

“No, you’re rubbing it too hard. It’s-” he glowered at you – “fine. Do it your way.”

You went back to lean against your sink and took another sip of posca, admiring the ornate decorations in the room. A little excessive, a little new money for your tastes.

There was a rap on the door.

“President Snow?”

“Just a minute.” He said coolly.

“You’re in a mood tonight.” You remarked, and he huffed.

“Running a country can get exhausting. Don’t expect you to understand.”

“Right.” You said flatly. “Because I’m just a brainless pawn like everybody else.”

He looked over at you, at the drink in your hand.

“How many of those have you had?”

You shrugged again, and he tossed the towel into the sink, walking over to you.

“Answer me.” His voice was stern, and for a second, you soaked it in, drenched in the danger as he approached, closing in. Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips, and your eyes followed his as he moved to stand in front of you.

“Shame you don’t have someone to let all that frustration out on, isn’t it? Sounds like that could be helpful.”

His eyes pierced yours.

“Doll-”

“I’m just saying, it’s a pity you don’t.” You moved to bring the glass to your lips, anticipating the burn in your throat, but he gently stopped your hand.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Posca? It’s my first glass.” You smiled, eyes batting.

“You know what I mean. I think you should stop.”

You looked at the glass, then back at him, and pried your hand away, slowly and pointedly taking another sip.

“Sweetheart.” He warned.

“What, are you punish me? Gonna make me beg for you then kick me out again? Already did that once.”

He gave an incredulous half-laugh.

“That’s what this is about? You’re not really going to be mad about that forever, are you?”

“That depends. How long is forever?”

The door knocked again, and he worked the glass out of your hand.

“Drink some water. Sober up. We’ll talk about this when we get home.”

You sighed, heading for the door, but glanced back at him, his face still a stained mess. You brushed a finger against your own cheek to mirror his.

“You missed a spot.”

You sat in silence in his office, feeling a little like a schoolchild caught misbehaving. His typing was the only sound in the room. The seat was low; almost as if it was there to point out his authority over anyone who sat in it. Knowing him, it probably was.

He’d managed to clean off the rest of your lipstick, but his face looked rubbed raw, uncomfortable. A tall glass of water sat on the desk in front of you.

“Thought you said we’d talk.”

“Not until you finish that glass. I’m not talking to you inebriated.”

“Seriously?”

He shot you a look from behind his typewriter.

“Fine. Whatever.” You reached for it and took a few sips. He looked back down again. A few folders cluttered the desk, and in your boredom, your eyes scanned them. They looked complicated; legal.

“What are you writing there anyway? Or am I too dumb to understand?”

He offered another unimpressed glance.  

“It’s a new bill I’m trying to pass. Except apparently, I’m the only one around here with their head screwed on enough to work on it.”

You waited as Snow pushed the typewriter’s lever, carriage sliding the page as he began writing the next line. You sipped your water.

He sighed. “One day I won’t have to mingle with these idiots anymore. They’ll just listen to me, and obey.”

You took that in.

“Do you feel that way about me?”

He studied you for a second, and stopped typing.  

“No. Not really.”

“But you wish I’d be more… compliant.” You stared at the floor.

“Not necessarily.”

“You sure? Didn’t seem to like it the other night.”

His eyes narrowed. Knowing this conversation was a game of chess like any other. But lately the stakes were higher than ever.

“Never said I didn’t like it. Just that you were out of line.”

“And where is that fucking line?” You snapped. “I’m serious, Snow, because we’ve never talked about it.”

“You want to talk, all of a sudden? Okay, sweetheart. Fire away.”

You put the glass down on the table, heavier than intended.

“I just don’t understand you, Coriolanus. I mean, first you don’t want me, then you do want me, then you don’t again. And now what? I don’t know what I’m supposed to think when you don’t give me anything to go off.”

He watched you carefully, and you wanted to shake him, to scream, anything that would give you answers. You stood, unable to sit still, and started pacing.

“You know what’s worse? I don’t even know if you want me here anymore. I don’t know how to act around you because I never know what you’re thinking. At first I thought all this, the whole push and pull, was just some control thing. But-” you laughed, airy and insane, “you know what I realised? You’ve had me fooled, Snow. All this time I thought we were equals, but now I think I finally realise.”

He frowned, waiting for you to continue.

“You pay for my company, if you think about it. We trade services, don’t we? You get something from me, I get something back. I live in your house, eat your food, wear nice clothes. At the end of the day, that’s just it, isn’t it?”

“What?”

You shrugged, tears filling your eyes as bitterness took over, so strong you could almost taste it.  

“I’m no better than a whore myself.”

You’d never heard a louder silence. If that hadn’t just taken everything out of you, you’d have begged him to say something. Instead, you just stared, eyes blurry with tears, as he seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, and you gave up trying to read his mind, because his expression was indecipherable.  

After what felt like hours, he took a long breath.

“Sit down.”

You glanced at the floor, then took a step towards your chair. He stopped you.

“Not there. Here.” He nodded at the desk in front of him, and you swallowed thickly, stepping around the desk, getting awfully close to him, and pulling yourself onto the desk, legs pressed together. He stood, looking down at you. 

“That’s really what you think of yourself?” He asked, voice steady and controlled.

You kept your eyes averted.

“Am I wrong?”

He lifted a hand and brushed his fingertips against your jaw, tipping your head up to look at him. And when you looked at his eyes, you knew exactly what he was feeling. He wasn’t hurt, or upset.

He was mad.

“Tell me something. What do you think I’d do if I heard someone talking about you that way?

“I don’t-”

“I’d have them executed. And you expect me to stand by and let you talk about yourself like that?”

You felt a tear spill down your cheek.

“I don’t know, Coriolanus, you tell me. Am I disposable to you?”

“Of course not."

“But you’d replace me if I left.”

“What makes you think I’d let you leave in the first place?”

A chill caressed your spine.

“That’s right. I’m keeping you here, doll. If I made you doubt that, I apologise. But you’re no whore. Though sometimes, I…” He trailed off.

“What?”

His eyes were on your lips again, hungry. You wondered how someone could switch from distant to depraved and wanting this quickly.

“Sometimes I wish you were. Because it’d make it a lot easier for me to take what I want. If you were, then I’d have no hesitation in ripping your clothes off right here. Fucking you on my desk, or up against the wall, not caring if you cum. Not caring if you enjoy it. If you were a whore, I’d have fucked you in every room in this house, twice over. I wouldn’t let you sleep.”

His hand was on your thigh, the now-creased fabric of your dress crumpling as it slid up. You weren’t sure when your eyes had fallen shut, your hot breath mixing with his as his thumb rubbed against your skin.

Your voice was pathetically quiet.

“Then why don’t you?”

He sighed, tone shifting into something tense, something you could cut through with a knife.

“Because you’re fucking impossible, you know that? I can barely think when you’re around. I don’t know where the games begin or end. I don’t… I don’t understand this power you have over me. I thought you knew, you must know that you’re under my skin. I don’t know if you’ll ever stop playing with me. It drives me fucking insane.”

You opened your eyes, hand gripping his wrist and pulling it from your thigh. You slid off the desk and took a step away from him.

“You think I’m playing with you? The only time you pay an ounce of attention to me is when you’re trying to fuck with my head, Snow. I said my piece, you heard me and you still didn’t care. So please, for both our sakes, stop torturing me. Just… come find me when you decide you want me again, okay? Let’s leave it at that.”

You made for the door, which you slammed with such an impressive force that it even took you aback.

You replayed his words in your head that night until you fell into a deep sleep, and when you woke, you felt like your dreams made more sense than he did.

“Tigris!” you exclaimed, catapulting into the blonde’s arms. The people who stood scattered around you in the manor’s large ballroom spun their heads around at your display. A few even dodged to the side as the momentum that you’d built running down the stairs nearly knocked her over.

A few days of silent glances and fewer exchanged words had passed. And now, you were just happy to be hosting in the comfort of your own home, and to finally see Tigris again. You wondered if she noticed how you hugged her, if she wondered - like you did - if you’d ever let go.

“I’m so happy you’re here. How’s your Grandma’am?”

“She’s quite well, she’s sorry she couldn’t make it. You look beautiful as ever. It’s been too long!”

“I know! I don’t think I’ve seen you since your birthday, which makes me the worst friend ever.” You groaned, scrunching up your face in shame.

“It’s okay! I know busy Coriolanus keeps you with all these functions. You must be going out of your mind by now. How are you holding up?”

The two of you walked to the edge of the room, where prying eyes had settled down after your greeting.

You looked at Snow, stood across the ballroom, dressed in a pristine suit with a champagne glass in hand, talking to yet another group of men who worked for him – ministers and such, a little higher ranking than the group from the other night – and spared you the occasional glance. As if he was keeping tabs on you. It wasn’t long before Tigris caught on and politely inquired.

“I don’t understand him, Tigris. I think he hates me.” You sighed.

“What? No, he could never. He has a soft spot for you, really, and I have it on good authority.”

“I’m not so sure anymore. I think I’ve pushed it a little far this time. I think… maybe we both did. I’m in uncharted waters, here.”

“Look, I know I don’t know all the ins and outs of how this thing between you works, but I don’t think he could ever hate you for doing anything. Coryo – I mean, Coriolanus, he does care, contrary to popular belief. It’s just that his way of showing it can get a little…”

“Fucked?” You offered, and she laughed.

“Yes, exactly. Now, I’m not going to lie to you and say that he’s an angel on earth, he’s had to do things to get to where he is now. Things that even I don’t know the extent of, and they’ve… changed him.”

You rarely got the chance to speak with Tigris alone these days, with Snow usually playing chaperone, or keeping one or the both of you busy, but it had always been easy to slide right back into conversation with her like you’d never been apart.

You’d first met Tigris at a Plinth gala years ago, on the same day you’d met Snow. The two of you had talked and laughed and she had an easiness around her, she wasn’t shallow and judgemental like a lot of the girls you’d grown up with, though you never knew why until many months later. Snow had placed a large wall between his life before the Plinth endorsement, and after. Few people knew the conditions he’d grown up in, but after countless hours with Tigris, you’d begun to assemble small pieces. Despite your closeness with her, you knew from her warnings that Snow had a sort of temper when it came to this topic, so you approached it with caution.

“Changed him how?” You inquired, finally.

“Well… It wasn’t always fancy balls and lunches with him. It never was, with any of us, as you know, but especially for him. He’s… had a different experience. Grandma’am and I, we’ve known hard times, but we haven’t seen what he’s seen. Not even close.”

“What kind of things?”

She glanced over her shoulder, making sure nobody was hovering.

“He’d kill me for telling you.”

“You know I won’t say a word. But you don’t have to tell me, if it’s too much to ask.”

 She took in a breath, and sipped her drink, voice dropping to a whisper.

“This stays between us, okay? Coriolanus has… been out there. In the districts, I mean. Before all this. And I can’t go into detail, he’d have my head if I…”

You swallowed.

“The districts? But… why? I don’t-”

“Tigris, lovely to see you, it’s been so long.” A male voice interrupted, and you quickly excused yourself, slipping away to let the two of them talk.

After mulling it over in your head and making small talk with a few more guests, you snuck out of a side door and into the hallways, winding upstairs until you were finally met with Snow’s bedroom door. The sound of voices and music a mere echo below you, you pushed tentatively, and stepped inside. It was strange, being in there alone, for the first time since he’d turned you away. But you paced the floor, looking for something, anything, that would answer the questions you had. Why the districts? Why couldn’t Tigris tell you what had happened there?

Glancing back at the door, you began thumbing through his closet, peeking inside drawers. You’d already given his room a once over, but you worked more meticulously this time, every corner you unsuccessfully turned over only fuelling your curiosity. You walked around the room again, getting frustrated.

You headed back to the door, scanning the place, and retraced your steps a third time. Knocking a little on cupboards and anything that appeared the slightest bit odd or out of place. It was a perpetually tidy room, neat as ever, save for the desk which contained folders you were sure weren’t for your eyes, but that didn’t stop you. You kept on, trying your best not to leave any stone unturned, and most importantly, trying not to move anything out of place.

Eventually, you moved to the smaller desk drawers again, rifling through them haphazardly, annoyed by the lack of evidence you were finding. One of the two drawers had very little inside it, just a pencil and a pocket dictionary, and as you pushed your hand further inside to feel for anything else, you noticed it felt smaller than the first. Shallower. When you knocked, it was hollow.

It had a false bottom.

Your father used to keep his cigars beneath one of these when you were growing up, so you knew what to look for. You felt around the edge until you touched a small, metal handle, then emptied the drawer, hooked your fingers into the handle and pulled. You frowned at first, there was less in the hidden compartment than there was above it. But you peered inside, and there lay two items: an old photograph, and a silver dog tag.

Suddenly, it all made sense. His efficiency, his drive, his orderliness.

Military. The districts. The dog tag.

You unfolded the photograph, caked in a layer of dust, and it hit you like a ton of rocks.  

Coriolanus was a peacekeeper.

But why? When? And why keep it a secret?

In the photograph, his hair was buzzed, and he was in a uniform you recognised immediately; if only because of the annual reaping ceremony shown in every building in the Capitol. He was standing next to a boy with dark hair, also buzzed. You recognised him as Sejanus Plinth, you’d never met the kid but you’d been to his funeral with your family, and had seen enough pictures to know.

You knew that the Plinth family had backed Coriolanus’ education, that he became their new heir, a protégé of sorts, but not that he’d been friends with their son. Not that they’d been this close, at least. They weren’t smiling in the photo, stood pin straight and alert in what looked like barracks.  

You folded the photograph and placed it back where you found it. Your hands lingered on the dog tag, though, despite the logical side of your brain screaming at you to put it back, leave the room and pretend you didn’t see this. But the louder part egged you on as you pulled it out of the drawer, examining the engraved words, running your hands over the name SNOW and, further down, DISTRICT 12.

You’d heard bedtime stories from your mother while growing up, about the war, the Hunger Games and why they existed, and why it was never safe to set foot in the districts, not even the richer ones.

They’re beneath us, she’d said. They’re dangerous. Barbaric. And 12 was notoriously the poorest, most dangerous of them all.

Coriolanus had now become more of an enigma to you than ever before, and a thousand new questions flooded your head.

You closed the drawer halfway, holding the chain, pulling out a chair in front of the mirror to sit down. You turned the tag over in your hands, as if it would start giving you the answers, if only you looked hard enough.

Why was he sent to 12? Why couldn’t he talk about it?

Despite the conditions Snow grew up in, there was respect behind his family name. It didn’t make sense why someone of his social standing and education would leave to be a peacekeeper, of all things, and in 12, of all places. A strange sort of pity filled you, wondering what he could’ve seen out there. What he could’ve done. It all drew you in as you got lost in a world of what ifs.

Despite yourself, you pushed your hair from your neck, and as if in a trance, wrapped the chain around it. It fell heavy and cold against your skin, sending a chill through your bones. You were so busy staring down at it, so lost in thought that you barely noticed the sound of the door pushing open. Or the floorboards lightly creaking. Or his reflection in the mirror. You didn’t notice any of that, until the door swung shut with a bang.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Coriolanus had had a long day, most of which he’d spent simmering over work and you. He’d kept his eye on you that evening; on the way you’d thrown yourself into Tigris’ arms, and talked, transfixed, and he hated not knowing what was being said. A strange feeling set in as he saw the two of you get deeper into conversation from the other side of the large room, a deep-seated uneasiness stirring him up as he drowned out the tales of his associates’ incompetence. It felt like a breath of relief when he sent someone your way to interrupt whatever talk you were having, pretending that Tigris had been looking for him earlier. He focused on your brief tour of the room when the distraction worked, eyes flitting around like you were preoccupied.

When he saw you dart away from the ballroom and up one of the stairwells, he followed you as soon as he got the chance.

He’d wondered if you might act up today, but this wasn’t what he was expecting. When he saw you, the all too familiar glint of silver around your pretty neck, something shifted in him. Something he’d done a very, very good job of keeping at bay during his first few years of presidency.

Rage.

Your eyes met his in the mirror.

“Coriolanus, I-”

His hands were on you before you could finish your sentence, hauling you out of the chair, fingers wrapped in a death grip around your arms, squeezing as he pushed you to the wall with a satisfying thud.

“What, you can explain? I highly doubt that.”

“I’m sorry, I just-” You gasped as he squeezed tighter, gripping your wrists.

“Do you even know what this means?” He seethed, dog tag pressed between his fingers, chain pulling at your neck.

The forest. The birds. The gunshots that deafened him for weeks.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry. I never knew you were a peacekeeper, Coryo, I-” He flinched, saw the way you winced the second it passed your lips.

Snow may have been cold, but his eyes were fire. And you were only stoking it.

“So I’m Coryo now? Who the fuck told you call me that? Was it Tigris? I saw you talking to her, don’t lie to me.”

“No.” You shook your head. “She didn’t tell me anything, I promise. Please. It was just me.”

He moved in closer, eclipsing you altogether, grip on the chain so tight he was certain you’d be able to feel it pinching the back of your neck, digging a mark into your flesh. He let the sadistic part of his brain take delight in it, in the way your eyes widened, face pleading.

Whatever this game was between you, you’d gone too far this time.

“How did you find this?” He snapped.

You were crowded against the wall, unable to move. Tears started to brim, and you didn’t answer, he wasn’t sure you could. You just shook your head over and over, repeating I’m sorry like a broken record.

“Take this off. Now. Take it off.” He ordered, dropping it back to your chest, stepping away a little so you could lift your shaking arms over your head, removing the chain. He snatched it from you, gripping it in his palm, looking down at it, and you breathed out in relief.

“I didn’t mean to… I was just looking. I had so many questions. I didn’t know what I’d find.”

“And? Are you fucking satisfied now?” His voice chilled you to the bone as he looked up at you again.

You shook your head. Apologised again. Wished you could apologise in any way that would matter, but it was too late. You’d never been more afraid in your life, anticipating what might happen, remembering echoes of rumors you’d heard, of Snow poisoning his enemies, of sending them to hang. Some you knew to be true, but others you boiled down to rebel gossip.

Now, you weren’t so sure. These were the eyes of a man who’d dropped his mask, and it was like staring into a dark void. You could get lost in it, and never find your way back.

“Please. Don’t… I won’t tell anyone, I promise. You can trust me.”

He scoffed.

Stupid girl. Hadn’t you learned by now, that trust meant nothing?

“Like I trusted you in here? I don’t think so. Can’t believe you had me feeling sorry for you. Probably just made it up so you could lower my guard then turn around and stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I didn’t, Coriolanus, I swear.” You pleaded. You were crying, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’ve been very patient with you, little girl. But this is where I draw the line. You have no idea how far you’ve pushed me. And you don’t even realise it, you’re so caught up in your little crush. Do you know how easy I’ve been going on you? The things I’ve let you get away with… I’ve killed people for much less.”

“You’ve…” You trailed off, barely hearing your own words, barely processing a thing. He laughed, low and dark.

“Does that scare you, sweetheart? Does it make you afraid?”

Eyes frozen open, you just stared. You felt your jaw go slack.

“Good.”  

Coriolanus toed an invisible line, one that had never been crossed before. You wanted him to show you he wanted you? Fine.

He looked down at the chain wrapped around his fist, but he didn’t pocket it, or place it to the side. He unwound it, and slowly pulled it over his own neck.

Your eyes dropped to where it sat in stark contrast, heavy and shining, garish against his fancy dress shirt. You felt your blood run cold.

“Get on your knees.” You heard him say. Your eyes darted back up.

“What?”

When he spoke, it sounded like someone else was talking. Someone you didn’t know at all.

“You heard me. Get on your fucking knees. Right now.”

What could you do? This was what you’d wanted. Just… not like this. Not when your hands were shaking in fear, and you had no idea what this Coriolanus was capable of.

Your head said yes; your heart wept. But you were far past listening to your sorry heart.

So, you obeyed. Legs all but giving in as you lowered yourself to the ground, knees meeting cold hardwood as the chill cut through your dress.

His fingers slipped under one of the straps.

“Take this off, baby.” He murmured, distant, like he wasn’t all there. Your head hung in shame, eyes on his feet as you pushed the straps from your shoulder, top half of the dress falling down. You heard his zipper slide down, and you shivered. No longer sure if it was in fear or anticipation.

“Head up. Look at me. Good,” he said, when you obliged, “now let’s see what this pretty mouth’s really good for, shall we?”

More tears welled up as his hand brushed your jaw, hooking a thumb to your bottom lip, pushing your mouth open. You couldn’t help the way your tongue grazed over it, tasting salt, whining when you realised it was the taste of your own tears. When your eyes fell open again, you finally caught a look at him, hard and tip weeping, and your brain filled with nothing but want, eclipsing your fear for a mere second, enough to bring Coriolanus to the ground again. He may have done terrible, unspeakable things, but he was still a man. A man who wanted you.

And why did that make your heart beat out of your chest? It thrummed like a hummingbird as you took in the sight of him, unbuttoning his shirt as he waited for you to move.

You’d seen how big he was from a distance. You’d felt him between layers of fabric, and you’d imagined this a million times over. But now, as he stood waiting in front of you, you hesitated, because it all finally felt real. Your mouth watered despite yourself, seeing the mess he’d already made, any more and he’d start dripping -

“Go on, sweetheart. It’s not gonna suck itself.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you let him past your lips. The heady taste of precum filled your mouth as you ran your tongue along the shaft slowly, trying to start steady. He wasn’t having it. His hand twisted through your hair, pulling you in closer, making you gag a little. You instinctively lifted a hand up to his thigh to brace yourself, and he laughed.

“Giving up so soon? Thought you’d try harder than that.”

He pushed further, and the indignant sound you made as you adjusted only served to spur him on.

You tried to focus on breathing through it, but he slipped in and out your mouth unevenly, and faster than you could think, catching you off guard. He looked down at the way your mouth struggled to take his length as if you were a piece of art, like he was mesmerised by it, and that feeling was encouragement was enough to keep you going. His hand twisted harder in your hair, making a fist, and he swore when you hummed in discomfort.

“Look at you.” He said, strung-out and shaky. “You strut right in here from your silver spoon life, and think you can call the shots? You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, sweetheart. You have no fucking idea what the world is really like. What people are like. What they have to do to survive.”

He moved faster, and you let your jaw go slack. You were barely moving now, he was starting to fuck your throat like he owned it. You’d started to cry again, and when you looked up at him, it was a blur. The furthest you could see was his chest, shirt unbuttoned and falling to the sides, and the dog tag, silver catching in the low light, swinging against his chest as he moved. You closed your eyes again, trying to go somewhere else in your head. Trying to breathe through your nose, to focus on being used, on how good you were making him feel, on finally being his. It was all you had left to hold on to.

But he was unwinding you with his words, knowing just where to press to make it sting, to make the tears fall harder.

“You don’t have any fucking shame about it either. Touching yourself on my bed and wearing my clothes, like you’re – fuck, that’s it - like we’re married or something. Like you’re worth more than everyone else. But look at you. Maybe you were right after all. Maybe you are my whore.” he gritted out.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried desperately to catch your breath between sobs.  

“I mean, you sure look like it now, on your knees for me, making a mess of your pretty face. So fucking good. You’re sucking me off better than she did, and you’re barely even trying.”

You hated it. Hated the way his thumb brushed painfully gently against your cheek, dusting away a tear as his cock bruised the back of your throat and you tried not to gag around him. Hated the way his words twisted around in your head, and how fucked up it was that your broken brain took it as praise instead of punishment.

Most of all, you hated the throb between your shaking legs, panties soaked through and probably ruined. Humiliation seeped through you as you imagined it dripping down your legs and onto the floor. Your salty tears spilled down your face, mixing with your spit and his precum. Hating every second, until your head went blank, and you didn’t feel much of anything anymore.

You weren’t sure exactly how it happened.

One second, he was pulling your hair, twitching in your mouth and spilling down your throat, and the next, in what felt like a flash, you were on the floor, loud, wrecked sobs spilling out of you as you held your knees to your chest, face hidden. He was on the floor too - when did he get down? - and his voice was soft, oh so soft and gentle, saying something you couldn’t quite make out, dull and repetitive past your ringing ears.

“- so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I know I - I didn’t… I took it too far. Can you hear me, sweetheart? Look at me. Please, look at me. I’m right here.”

You pulled your head from your hands, and through blurred eyes, you looked at him.

This wasn’t a face you’d seen on him before. His brows knitted, lips apart as he stared at you, like you were some wounded animal he wanted to save.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Please.”

“I can’t…” You trailed off.

“You can tell me.”

Another wave of choked back sobs took over you. He held your jaw up like you were something breakable. Like maybe you’d broken already, and he was holding you together.

“I can’t do this.” You whispered. “Not like-”

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek.

“Okay. It’s okay, baby. Tell me what I can do for you. Just say the word.”

You caught your breath, and he flinched a little as you collapsed into his arms. The cool metal of the dog tag pressed into your cheek.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You cried.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t realise how far I’d pushed you until… I know I can’t make it up to you, but I’ll try. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. If you want to leave, I understand. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“What? No, that’s not…”

He cut you off, looking into your eyes.

“Decide tomorrow, okay doll? You don’t have to think about that now.”

“I didn’t know about… about the districts.” You hiccupped. “About you. You didn’t want me to know. I ruined everything, I-”

“Listen to me. It doesn’t matter anymore, I promise you. It’s okay, baby.”

You nodded into his chest.

“Here.” He leaned away from you, and you looked up in a question. He took the chain from his neck and placed it in your palm.

“You can have it. So long as nobody sees. You can throw it away, wear it around the house, whatever you want. It’s yours.”

You pressed it between your fingers. It cooled your hot skin like a salve.

“Thank you.” You whispered. Your head sank back onto his chest, and when you spoke again, it was barely audible.

“Coryo?”

He tensed for a second, but relaxed again just as quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

His hand brushed gently against your hair, and you relaxed into it.

“Of course you can.”

a/n: baby's first dubcon scene!! (screams cries and throws up bc navigating that was scary as fuck) p.s one more chapter left!! do we think they'll get their shit together?? who knows!! (i know)

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[miley1442111]

(part 6) ladies choice- a.donaldson

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

a/n: dw there are more parts after this :)

summary: how you start moving on, and how Art starts moving away.

pairing: art donaldson x fem! reader | patrick zweig x fem! reader

warnings: smut, piv (wrap it up plz), reader is mad mean to Tashi, usual upset and depressed Art, etc.

PART 6 of 12

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“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked. 

“I wanted to talk,” Patrick shrugged. His loose t-shirt hung off his well-hidden muscled torso and arms. 

“About what?”

“Your break-up.”

“If you’re about to try and convince me to get back with him-”

“No way!” he assured you.  “I wanted to see how you were. Art’s broke up about it but it’s not like he’s the one who got cheated on.”

You were both silent for a moment.

“How are you?” Patrick asked, fiddling with the straps of the tote bag over his shoulder.

You sighed. “Honestly, I’m kind of shit.” 

“I guessed. That’s why I brought ice cream,” he smiled sheepishly. “And I thought we could watch something?”

You smiled. “That sounds nice.”

“So let me in then,” he smiled. You opened the door and the night was full of laughter, ice-cream, and hazily falling asleep in his arms in your bed. 

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

“Stay in touch, yeah?” he smiled from the end of your bed. He had to leave, his train was in an hour and he wanted to be at the station before he missed it out of pure idiocy. He’d never been good with being on time. 

“Yeah,” you agreed and took his hand, lazily bringing it into your own. “Thank you for last night Pat.”

“Thank you, you make a lot of things a lot better.” 

You smiled at his compliment, and smiled even harder when he pressed a soft kiss to your hand before he left. 

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

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Art cursed, watching Patrick leave your dorm room. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Patrick shot back, a satisfied smirk on his face. 

“Visiting Y/n-”

“You mean your ex-girlfriend, right?” Patrick mocked and Art rolled his eyes. 

“I have some of her old stuff, I wanted to give it back,” Art admitted. “Now, what are you doing here?”

“You shouldn’t care. We’re not friends anymore, remember? And you and Y/n are broken up, because you cheated on her, remember?” 

Art felt the stab in his heart when he remembered his infidelity. He didn’t love Tashi. He loved you. He’d always love you. But Tashi and he made sense. Before you, he’d wanted Tashi. Now he couldn’t have you, Tashi was his second choice. 

“See you around, Arthur,” Patrick smiled, walking past him. 

Art was seething. 

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

“Are you fucking Patrick?” Tashi demanded, stalking onto the court as you ran drills. 

“No,” you answered, your focus staying on the balls being thrown at you by your coach.

“Then why did Art tell me you were?”

“Because he’s a liar?” You sighed after missing a ball. “Keep me out of your relationship, you’ve already fucked one of my boyfriend behind my back.”

Tashi rolled her eyes. “Why are you-”

“Focus on your injury, Tashi. Maybe one day you’ll be able to beat me,” you snarled. 

Tashi’s face fell. 

“Oh wait, no you fucking won’t. ‘Cause you’ll never play again,” you snapped. “Now get off the court, actual athletes are trying to play.”

Tashi walked away, a certain shake in her step as you watched her retreat. 

You had to call Patrick. In recent weeks, he’d been your only real friend. The only person who understood you and the pain you were under. Tashi had fucked Art, Patrick was cheated on as well, right? You two were one in the same. 

“Patrick?” you questioned. 

“Hey honey,” you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Everything alright?”

“Can you come visit soon?”

“Of course. It would be my pleasure,” he smiled. 

"When can you come down?" you asked, biting your nails.

"How about Friday?"

"Perfect."

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

When Patrick opened your dorm door, he found you studying over some material for a biology test.

"Hey beautiful," he smirked and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"Hey Pat," you sighed. "How are you?"

"I'm good, happy to see you. How are you?"

You held back tears as you explained what had happened earlier that week, but when he pulled you into his arms you broke.

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

It felt good having Patrick fuck you. You didn't know how it had happened. One second he was comforting you about your fight with Tashi, the next his lips were on yours, the next you were being fucked into next week on your bed.

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

“So beautiful,” he smirked, pummelling into you. “So pretty like this, taking me so well.”

“Patrick-” you whined, grasping at the headboard of your bed as you bucked off the bed. You could feel every inch of him, and trust me, there was a lot. His fingers swirled over your needy clit as you bucked into his hips, fucking yourself onto his cock.

“Such a pretty girl, too pretty for Art,” he groaned into your neck. He took notice of how you clenched around him when he called you pretty. "You're too good for them, for both of them. Art and Tashi. I'll make you forget all about them, yeah pretty?"

You honestly could've cum for his words right there. He looked so good right now, a thin layer of sweat across his naked body, his curly hair on his forehead wet with sweat. “I-I’m gonna-” 

“You gonna cum? Come on, cum on my cock,” he whined. This is what he had wanted, he wanted to be with you, sure. But the sex was a big part of it too. You were drop-dead gorgeous, and from what Art had told him, you were incredible in bed. Art hadn’t lied.

It was all too much, too good. His hand on your waist, his way-too-big cock inside you hitting spots Art could only dream of hitting, his fingers swirling around your throbbing clit, it was all too good.

“Fuck!” you shouted and came around him with a shudder. He bit down on your neck as he came inside the condom, broken moans leaving both of your mouths as you rode out your highs. 

Patrick lay beside you, his hands wrapped around your bruising waist. 

“So…” you took a deep breath.

“I wanna go out with you,” he admitted. “Not just to get back at Tashi and Art, because I think you’re really interesting and special.”

You smiled. “Alright.”

“So, can I take you out on a date?”

“Yes.”

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

Everything was going wrong. "We want you to go pro," his coach smiled at him. He nodded, no excitement behind his blank expression.

"Can't wait," he plastered on a fake smile.

"You'll be represented by Nike, your female ambassador is Y/n Y/l/n. We're so excited for you."

Art smiled but it was fake. everyone knew it was fake. Seeing you at practice everyday was sure to kill him, if Tashi didn't first. Their relationship was slowly falling apart, and it was all because of him.

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

"I think we should see other people," Tashi sighed over dinner. Art just nodded along.

"I agree."

"You have to get over her Art, she's with Pat now-"

"What?" he snarled, venom in his confused voice.

"She and Patrick, they're going out now," she explained. "I told you-"

"No you didn't. You never told me."

Art's head was spinning, you were moving on. You were moved on. He'd lost you.

To Patrick.

Great.

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art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[lady-ashfade]

Mates By Fate

Various Hybrid!Characters x Human!Fem!Reader.

Plot: The adoption center is filled with many different hybrids from all sorts. But when one gets a whiff of your scent that they can’t help but get excited to see you.

Characters: Rabbit!Izuku midoriya, Wolf!Katsuki Bakugo, Dog!Eijiro Kirishima, Cat!Shoto Todoroki

Warnings: quick adoption, licking, love at first sight, mention of dark past, not much.

Rabbit! Izuku Midoriya

The building was filled with all types of noises, from barks to meows, even some growls. Some hybrids were out playing and doing their own things, some playing in groups outside or maybe they enjoyed their own company. Izuku was watching a movie that had come on just in time for his break. All hybrids get a break from the others to focus on themselves if needed, and he decided to watch his favorite movie. Super Hybrid: All might. Oh, how he adored the movie and the man it was about. His room filled with decorations of Allmight himself, posters on every wall.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off the screen when the scene came on. Allmight fighting a bad guy, his tail smacking him around from place to place. It was like watching it for the first time, he was on the edge of his seat cheering at the screen for his hero. Not much could get his attention away from this movie, so when a scent came into his nose it peaked his interest. What was that smell? So sweet, soft yet bold, how could something smell so perfect? His flappy ears stood up and his attention drew to the hallway where his door was cracked open. Grabbing the remote be paused the movie and walked to the door.

He poked his head out slowly to see what was going on and if he could find the source of the smell. Then he saw the owner of the adoption center in the middle of the hallway, then a woman standing next to her about three doors down. A hybrid with droopy ears likes his but brown, the hybrid rubbed her head against the new woman’s hand as she smiled. When he saw you, he felt the world crash onto him with a kick to the chest.

Mate.

The words rang through his head and made his body tense up at the thought of having you in his life. But, he couldn’t have a mate? And not someone as pretty as you? He cheeks heated up while staring at you with wide eyes frozen in the doorway to his room. He could hear your conversation but didn’t truly listen, the words sounding like muffles to him. But a few seconds later your head turned when the owner said something and you looked right at him.

He yelps and slips back into his room quickly from being caught and your attention. His heart raced as fast as it could go as he panicked over every detail. Did you really see him? Was he imagining you here? What if this was a dream and he’d wake up mateless again? What if you don’t want him as a mate anyway? So many questions ran through his speedy head and made him panic.

“Izuku,” the old woman’s sweet voice called him out of his thoughts as she walked into the open room. “We have a visitor, like to meet them?” Your frame shuffled into the room and waved softly, the smile on your lips look like heaven. All he could do is stare and mumble nervously with words you couldn’t understand.

“He’s shy, but he’s a good hybrid to have around.” You nodded and reached into your pocket and his attention calmed down at the other scent he loved. Treats. A brown little heart shaped treat rest in your hands and pushed it towards him. “Hello, Izuku. My names Y/n.” The name engraved itself into his brain. The excitement finally washed over him and shot throughout his body, making him so happy that his leg started to tap and take the treat into his mouth.

He was so happy as he chew and you watched his nose crinkle with each bite, his happy feet bouncing. You giggled at the sight, he was your favorite by far. “I’ll let you have some time with him, seeing as he’s your perfect match. I shall be just outside with the other hybrids, call if you need anything.” She bowed and walked out the room.

You look at izuku and a nervous smile spread your face as he inched closer, no threatening gestures but with a curious look. His noses sniffed around your hand and up your wrists, he looked so focused. Then he nudged his faces across it like he was petting himself and your heart exploded. He looked so happy and relaxed with your touch.

“Mate.” He muttered and you froze up. Did he say that or was it a mistake…Mate? That’s interesting but you can’t help but feel like it was right. “Tell me, do you want me to take you home?” He jumped up and hugged your leg and you almost fell. Laughing you reach down to pet this hair.

He was interesting, he couldn’t get himself off of you. But he was perfectly sweet.

Wolf! Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki is wasn’t one for social interaction, especially with new people he had just meet. Whenever someone came to look at the hybrids he wouldn’t let them get near and just walk off or give them attitude. He was adopted once before and it was the worst time of his life, humans were cruel and he knew damn well they couldn’t put up with him. So he put off the idea that he would find someone nice enough.

Kats didn’t get along with the other hybrids, only a selected group he allowed near him. If he wasn’t hanging around them then he was outside in the shade, or playing with a chew toy that need to be replaced each day. He loved to be outside a few hours because he had a lot of energy he couldn’t release inside. Today he decided to take a break and lay on the ground to take a quick nap, the shade and sun making him tired. Then, his nose picked up a scent. Shooting his head up from his resting place his head looked around for the scent he was smelling.

This wasn’t food, it wasn’t like anything he’s ever smelled before. It was the perfect smell for him. He craved to get near the source. So he stood up and looked around, his tail wagging behind him. Big and thick with blonde and white with brown tips like his ears. “Shit.” He smelled it out and followed trail. A beautiful laugh caught his ears and he looked up to see a woman smiling with the owner, a hybrid getting their head pat. Her. It was coming from her.

Mate. Claim. Mate.

She was his mate, his tail wagged harder but his head gave him trouble. He didn’t need a mate, and not a shitty human at that. What was she trying to do? He’s a alpha and not some pet she could keep in her house- But he wanted it. To be close to her at every second to keep he safe and sound. He groaned and fell close to the ground and behind the flowers, the garden being filled with big places with high planted flowers. It was easy for him to crawl closer without being caught, after all it was in his blood to hunt.

He got closer and watched for a second. “I’ll leave you to look around, I know of a few hybrids out here. A snake one, he’s usually in the trees and many others.” She smiles and took the cat hybrid inside, leaving you alone. Smiling to yourself and straighten your blouses then walk over to the flowers, smelling them. Bakugo wiggled his body and got ready to pounce on you, why? He just felt like it. But when you giggled and looked over at his direction he froze in shock and confusion.

“There’s a mirror wall behind you,” you look a seat on the bench beside you. “But don’t be discouraged, you would of had me.” The lighthearted tone in your voice made him heat up, and your smile with no anger in it. He rolled his eyes and stood up, inching closer to you with a glare, a low growl leaving his lips to imitate you with fear. You only smiled and pulled out a big threat, a bone shaped one.

“I apologize if I offended you, it was not my intention.” Standing up slowly you tossed the treat softly before him.  “But I hope you’ll take this treat as a apology, great wolf.” His ego built up at your praise and felt better. He took the treat and took a few bites. While he was focused on the treat you backed up to leave him alone, not wanted to anger him. Wolfs can be very territorial when it comes to it, so you wouldn’t egg him in. 

“I didn’t say go, damn human.” His tough voice caught you off guard. You turned around to see him soften his glare and look at the bench you once sat at. “Sit.” You smirked for a second and walked back to the bench and did as he said. He was adorable. You stuck out your hand for him to sniff and he hesitated, looking up at you like asking permission or to get a read on you. But you only flashed him a eye closing smile.

His noses poked your hand and sniffed all around to take in your scent in, and his body turned into mush. Your scent, he craved it. “Damn, of course it be a human.” He huffed and crossed his arms. You looked at him confused, “Hmm?” Kats rolled his eyes hard and pointed at you, “Mate.” He enjoyed how you looked at him in shock and flustered.

“Now, go get the paper work done so I can leave. I wouldn’t let anyone leave with you today wether you like it or not.” His tail stomped the ground as his teeth really showed to threaten the people he thought of. “Well? Go!” You giggled and rushed away from the shouting hybrid, a rough one.

He was demanding and didn’t care. He however, was loving on the way to your house so you didn’t mind.

Shoto Todoroki

Shoto is a hybrid that likes to take naps, his cat like nature is strong. The sunlight can make him fall asleep anywhere, no matter the place. He also loves to climb up on things to take a nice nap, mostly on a cat like tree they have for hybrids. He also has a scratching problem but not in a bad way, he just needs to stretch often. Those are the things he does in a day. Wake up, scratch, eat, Nap, scratch and then repeat. However he does hang out with some hybrids on occasion.

Today Shotos place of choice was in front of the art rooms door, so close to getting hit if someone opened the door fully. The hybrid didn’t notice this when he went to sleep or he would have scooted a bit further. You wanted to explore the place and decide to check the art room to see what’s it was like. When you opened the door you didn’t see the hybrid behind you, only a tail that curled and swung slowly. Stopping and not pushing the door any further you walked through the gap and poke your head around to see the hybrid laying there.

His hair mix toned, red and white. His tail thin but long, white fur all the way down. But his ears matched the hair on each side, he was gorgeous. You smile and push all the way in the room and close the door as quietly as you can, trying not to startle him. Kneeling down a few inches from him you start to call out softly for him to walk up. Clinking your tongue, “Little buddy, wake up please.” You repeated that line over and over. But he wasn’t little, only a small frame but you could see the muscles he had and how tall he was.

He slowly opened his eyes with a yawn, confused on what was going on. When he noticed you his demeanor changed slight. His face dropping and staring you, with almost a cold glare. Chuckling to not be afraid you step back, “Sorry, I just didn’t want you to get hurt. You were sleeping in front of the door.” You glanced at the door and showed him what you meant. But he didn’t stop staring at you with a unreadable expression.

Shoto was freaking out inside. Your scent drove him insane, one he wanted to run and nuzzle up to. He couldn’t look away from your pretty face or he would have. What was this? Had you have some sort of magic to bewitched him? Why was his body on fire? He had so many emotions and non of them made sense. Until his mouth started to water..

Mate.

The clicking sound echoed through his brain when he realized what you were to him. A mate. Fate was funny about bringing people together and he didn’t have to find you, you found him. “Hello?” You waved a hand in front of your face as he continued to be silent and frozen. He blinked finally and you felt relieved. “Call me shoto.” You hummed at the calming tone. “Y/n.” You reached out your hand with a smile. Of course he couldn’t hold himself back from taking it and sniffing you.

Your scent was so nice to smell, calming but made his blood pump. You had weird affects on his body. You watch him sniff you and it made you laugh as he kept hitting his nose against the center. He was booping his own nose. Then he did something unexpected and licked your hand softly. To give affection he kept doing it, small licks. Nothing more to the eyes. Only he did it to get his scent on you.

“Adopt me.” He look up at you blankly and you were taken aback by his boldness. “We just met, don’t you want to get a know me first?” You asked. Most hybrids take a week at least before getting comfortable with a owner, or at least a whole day. “I know all I need, you are my mate of course.” He nuzzled against your hand as his tail swayed around smoothly.

“Mates?” You questioned but couldn’t help but rub his cheek, he purred so loudly you could feel it. “Hmm, smell you. Us hybrids have mates, or some do and mine is you.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Now, I’m tired. Could you go get everything done so I can’t go back to napping?”

You took shoto home that night and he fell asleep on your nap. Followed you around the house with his head in your shoulders.

Eijiro Kirishima

Kiri likes to be with other hybrids and people, a social butterfly if you will. He always has a smile on his face to cheer and play with the others, the big brother of the estate. His dream is to one day have a forever home with a family that loves him but worries about being worthy. Despite always tell the others they’d get adopted or cheer them up, he felt the same way. But he puts it off and has fun instead, he’s very active. They had to build a new playground area just for him and hybrids like him who are rough but playful.

Kiri today was in the playroom all by himself and it saddens him, no one to play with. He’d have the rope in his mouth and swing it around almost like a weapon. Or jumping around from the bars to places, or his favorite. Catch. They had a device to throw the ball automatically and he loved it, almost as much as someone actually throwing him the ball. Kiri watched the ball get shot out and hit the table making it change direction to the door. To his surprise the door opened just as the ball rolled on the floor and stop between someone’s leg. His mind focused on the ball he chased after it.

His legs ran to catch the small object and only to be caught in another trance caused by a smell, a delicious smell. Stopping in his tracks he froze and looked up at the person at the door who now looked at the ball between her feet. A smile spread on her lips when she bent down to pick it up. The smell was coming from her. Was it a treat in her pocket? What flavor was it? That smell was heaven to his nose, like it was made just for him.

Mate.

Giggling you looked at the pup in front of you, a grip on the ball “Want me to throw it?” You wiggled it slightly. Thump thump. The sound of his huge fluffy tail hit the floor as he panted quietly. He was so excited. “Get it.” You threw it past him and made sure not to hit anything but far for him to have fun. He leaped up and chased after it, so fast and quick. It was cute to watch him bite the ball and chew down on it slightly then look back at you. He pranced back to you with his tail wagging, a pride filled aura as he puffed out his chest.

He dropped the ball at your feet and sat back on the floor, his tongue sticking out. “Awe, such a good boy.” You reached down to pet his head but gave him enough time to pull away if he’d like. But he didn’t so your hand patted the red hair, slightly touching the ears on his head. “My names Y/n.” Without a warning he jumps up and knocks you down, leaning onto of you and starts to lick across your face. His hands on your chest and tail making a breeze.

You laughed and tried to move but he didn’t let up on his actions. You smelled too good. You called him a good boy. A perfect mate for him. He leaned up and didn’t let his hands up from your stomach. “Eijiro Kirishima.” His smile was so wide you saw his teeth that looked perfectly white and sharp. Taking a breath you smile up at the hybrid you just met. “Nice to met you.” He jumped off you and waited for you to get up.

When you did you brushed off yourself and whipped your face off. Kiri stood up finally and you looked up at him, he was one of the biggest hybrids you have ever seen. Blushing at his height you giggled, he was just a huge puppy. “Are you here to adopt?” He asked, his ears and tail stopping and going down. You could tell he was sad and you wondered why.

“Yes, I am.” You see him look at the floor and a sad smile grew on his face. “They’d be luck to have you.” The heart in your chest shattered at his tone, so quick to dismiss himself. “Would you be willing to get adopted? I was looking for a dog hybrid…If you’re willing.” Kiri’s head shit up and his body started to wage and bounce. The sparkle in his eyes reappeared and his happiness coming back.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapping themselves around you and pulling you closer, his tongue licking your cheek. You patted his head, “I’ll take that as a yes.” You didn’t expect to meet the hybrid of your dreams on the first day of looking but here he was. “Mate, going home with my mate.” His words made you tense up. Mate? Does he think you’re his mate… Why doesn’t that not sound wrong?

“Okay, let’s go so I can go to the office.” He whined and hugged you closer. His head rested on your shoulder and he refused to let you go, he had a person for the first time. Too soon to let go. “You can come with him, but I need to walk.” He felt your chest vibrate with laughter and he huffed. His arms let your waist go but hooked on your arm instead.

You didn’t expect him to be so clingy and protective over you but that’s what he was. You’re now his home. But there’s no other pup for you.

[shirefantasies]

Can I ask for a request?

For the fellowship men? So they get wounded and their crush have to nurse them? And she is total calm with that like "Hun your leg is bleeding you have to take off your pants so I can treat the wound" and she's total obvious and didn't get the longing looks she get oder when he ist flustered and shiver because she touch his skin. ("Sry for the cold hands")

I’ll do my best! Tried to vary up the scenarios a bit 😉 thank you so much for requesting 😌 Warnings: some blood & injury mentions, minor language, some suggestive jokes!

The Fellowship When Their Crush Cares For Their Wound

Aragorn

"Won't you please sit down?"

The tender urgency of your words finally ran a shock through Aragorn, who complied. Perhaps it truly was no good to continue pressing on at the detriment of the group.

"Very well. We rest!"

"That was not so hard, was it?" You asked him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Now, if you please." Pantomiming removing your shirt, you nodded his way.

Aragorn's brows furrowed, blue eyes fixing you with concern, questioning, as he sat and tightened his bootstraps.

"I saw that slash you took," you breathed, "let yourself be cared for."

Inhaling, he nodded, unlacing and shrugging down his tunic. Never had you made such a request before, but giving as you were, it made sense. Such nature was what inevitably drew Aragorn to you. Your touch was soft as you reached out to caress the skin above where he had been injured. Cleaned it just as gently.

"What?" You suddenly broke the silence, tilting your head and fixing Aragorn with an innocent bat of your eyes. You truly had no idea.

He shook his head, a smile playing upon his lips to swallow the wince of pain as you began wrapping his cut flesh in bandages. "Nothing. Only gratitude at the care of your heart and the ease of your hands."

You smiled back, sending Aragorn's chest leaping somewhere far deeper than the pain could reach.

Legolas

"You're bleeding."

"It is nothing, really," the elven prince tried to brush you off, but shaking your head, you stepped in front of him.

"Keep not your pride so tight about you," you chastised, hands upon your hips and a teasing look upon your face, "the dwarf can't see you. Come. Let me at least wrap it up for you."

Legolas's expression softened at your words, and with a slight nod, he followed. Wordlessly he removed his layers when you reached a spot off to the side, dark eyes never leaving you as he revealed the entirety of the wound, a slash near his collarbone. Unthinkingly, your hands went right to the area around it.

"Oh, Legolas, it's worse than I..." You paused, feeling him shiver. "I'm sorry, are my hands cold?"

"A bit," he replied with a bit of a smile, resting both of his hands over yours.

Flushing, you shake your head. "I am supposed to be caring for you."

Legolas just smiled at you. "Can we not have both? This is the least I can do."

"True," you teased, "I suppose it benefits us both, does it not?"

"Indeed," he nodded, "but mostly yet I know no other way to show my heart's gratitude."

Boromir

"I can hardly believe you!"

"Believe what? We are safe again," Boromir replied, a hand tightly clasping your shoulder.

"You are well aware what, you hero of a man," you shot back, waving a hand up and down his form, "now go and lie down for me already!"

"Oh?" His brows shot up at your words. "Is that how you like it?"

"No matter me, you've been wounded! Being surrounded upon all sides and grazed with arrows does that to a man. I saw the one that caught your side and while I'd like to hold you up as much as you need, first we'd best patch you up."

"Oh," Boromir said again, this time a bit dumbly as he lowered to the ground with a nod. His teasing tone quickly returned, however, "Yes, indeed, whatever you say. I forget what a great healer you are."

"Well, I certainly may not be the best, but there is no reason to burden oneself with wounds already inflicted. Not to mention it mostly got your back."

The moment Boromir exposed himself, he glanced back at you, catching the trace of your eyes over his skin. Your hands soon fell upon it, working quickly to clean and wrap up the bloody graze nice and tight. What surprised him, though, was the work of your hands after this, your fingers kneading the skin around it. Pleasure and pain rolled in equal waves through him as you did so.

"My apologies, does this hurt too much? I felt you start a bit just now. My brother just told me that we heal better if we're relaxed."

"And I believe that wholeheartedly," Boromir agreed with a smile, "please continue. I must confess I have never received such fine treatment before."

Giggling at his comment and eliciting a chuckle from him in return, you continued with a smile of your own.

Gimli

“Sit still!”

“I can still fight!”

“Like hell you will,” you shot back, stopping Gimli again with a hand across his chest, “I don’t care what you think you can do, you just could have been killed! Now stay there, please. I’m worried about you.”

Spoken considerably softer, those last four words were what halted Gimli’s protest the most, a glow of warmth and hope ringing out in his chest. His lips parted a bit in surprise. “Oh. Alright, then, do what you need.” For all his bravado, it had been a nasty case, his body slammed down so hard and his now-pounding head taking the brunt of the force.

“Thank you.” Reaching your hands up, you slid his helmet off first, tucking his hair behind his ears. You could feel the way he tensed up at your actions as you pulled one hand away to fetch your cloth. "Sorry, did that sting?"

He had to get out his head- all you were doing was taking care of him. "Not at all. Please-please continue." Perhaps his words sounded desperate, but Gimli barely cared when your hands were on him like that.

Speaking of which... You took firmer hold, tilting him by the chin to get a better angle with which to dab the warm fabric over the wound.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

Frodo

"Would you not like to do something about this?"

Frodo simply peered up into your eyes with his glistening blue stare, tilting his head inquisitively and tugging at his sleeves, which you then took a hold of.

"No, no, take this all off is what I meant."

"Take- take it all...?"

Hand crossing over your shoulders, you drew lines down in an impression of the chain Frodo wore, the impossibly heavy burden he bore burning into his skin at all times. "Surely you feel it. You must. Keep it on, I won't touch it, but please let me ease the pain."

Blinking, Frodo inhaled, nodded. "Very well. What will you do, then?"

"Just put some salve up there around where the chain is. Here, just take your shirt off a bit," you told him, fussing with his jacket but allowing Frodo himself to undo the top buttons of his shirt.

He glanced up, followed your gaze and saw it lie not upon the ring, but upon his, and visibly relaxed, a smile finally working its way to his soft lips. Nodding again, he sat back as your hand pushed the metal chain up from its place, spreading your healing concoction upon the opened skin. When your hand got lower, you could feel how rapid his heartbeat was thumping beneath skin and bone.

"Don't worry, really. All I care about is you." Did it pick up again?

"I am at ease, the first of such I've felt in some time. I cannot thank you enough," he replies with a shake of his head and a kiss to the hand you weren't using.

Sam

"Alright, Sam, open up your shirt."

"I beg your pardon?"

Shaking your head, you chuckled at his wide eyes. "I heard you got a nasty scrape, and if so, I've got just the thing for it."

Shock still swam in his green eyes, his fingers hovering over the buttons hesitantly as he glanced between them and you.

Flushing, you spoke once more, much more hastily as you held up the jar of medicine in question. "Oh! Er, well, if you'd rather someone else take a look, I can give this to Aragorn and he can-"

"No!" Sam cut you off, shaking his head. "No, no let's not trouble Strider, you're all right. Here we go."

Glancing back and forth, he sat down upon a rock and undid the top three buttons of his shirt, wiggling the fabric loose to reveal the wound you'd been told of. Your eyes wandered a bit before guiltily returning to Sam's; he smiled faintly as you dipped your fingers into the cool contents of the jar and reached back up to smear some on. Sam, surprisingly, did not flinch but he did shiver a bit.

"Oh, my apologies, I should have warmed it up a bit better first, shouldn't I?"

He sat up a bit straighter at your words. "Not at all, I can take it. Just...just startled me a bit is all. Don't worry your pretty head."

Merry

"Trousers off. Let's see it."

"Right now?" Merry loudly whispered, eyes going round.

"Yes, right now," you fussed, "or else you'll bleed out! Come on."

"Oh. Oh, the wound, yes. Bit of a close one there, wasn't it?"

You put a hand on your hip as Merry lowered into a seated position and undid his belt. "Had Boromir not been there with his shield, you could have lost your leg. What were you thinking?"

"Well, if you really must know," Merry shot back, shimmying his outer garments down to reveal a glistening red gash upon his right leg, "thought charging in might impress you."

He shuddered under the cleansing water you pressed against it, likely due to the cold. Your brow furrowed equally at the wound as it was at him, your eyes darting up to search his. "Impress me?" You replied incredulously.

"Yes," he agreed with a crooked, devious smile, "and with that first line of yours, I thought it'd worked."

Pippin

“Alright, take off your trousers.”

Pippin’s eyebrows shot up as his hands slid to his belt. “Is that what we’re doing? Well, all right then…”

Head tilted and brows furrowed in confusion, you fixed him with a look. “Of course we are, you got a huge gash above the knee. Lucky for you Aragorn harvested us a whole lot of poultice herbs the other day.” Your gaze slid between Pippin and your work of crushing the leaves as he sheepishly loosened his garments.

“Right, right, I knew that, yes. So the leaves are going to go down first, then?”

“Indeed,” you nodded, dabbing at the remaining dribble of blood before you began gently dabbing the poultice on.

Your eyes traveled back up to meet his, their deep green sheen bringing a shy smile to your face. Beneath your hand, he shuddered faintly.

“Sorry, does that sting?” You asked him, glancing again between your work and him.

Puffing out his chest a bit, Pippin shook his head. “Not at all. Not when I have the best nurse in all of Middle Earth to take care of me. Feels a bit good, in fact.”

Flushing, you gave a full smile at his words as you tied off his bandage. “Well, having the best patient helps, too.” Feeling a bit bold, you reached up and patted his cheek. “Let me know if you need anything else, alright?”

A wide grin spread across Pippin’s face. “Oh, I can think of something."