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allgoodnamesrgoneee · 2 months ago

Note

i love your virgil smut so much, dominant and size kink 😫😫 wondering if you could write the one that is similar for jude too please ❤

I know this one took me forever to upload but I had to make sure it was perfect for you guys. After 3 rewrites, I present to you...

After Hours

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — the one where you are his only desire.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 10.5k.

Warnings! FLUFF! He's down badddd, NSFW! SMUT (18+), size kink, protected vaginal sex (stay safe), oral sex (f receiving), hot sex, multiple orgasms, dom!Jude, sub!reader.

The Penthouse was alive with energy. Trent's birthday had drawn out the kind of crowd that made it impossible to move without brushing shoulders with someone.

Laughter spills over the booming bass of the music, blending with the distinct smell of alcohol and food wafting throughout the house. A mix of conversations buzz in every corner of the house—loud, overlapping, and relentless.

Jude leans against the far wall of the living room, eyes half-lidded as he sips from a drink he barely cares for. He wasn’t really a fan of these gatherings; too many people, too much noise. But Trent was a friend, and bailing wasn't an option.

At least not yet.

He was giving the party until midnight before making his excuses and heading out. It's 11:57. Almost there.

His gaze flickers to the clock mounted over the TV, then around the room at the partygoers. He spots Trent across the room, laughing and hugging a group of people, and smiles. He's happy his friend is having a good time.

He checks his watch again, making a silent vow to himself to stay put for at least two more minutes. He exhales quietly, thinking of how easy it would be to slip out unnoticed. He's already halfway to deciding on an exit strategy when something—someone—catches his attention.

There you are.

Standing on your tiptoes, trying—and failing—to grab something from the top shelf in the kitchen. Your brows furrow in concentration, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you stretch as far as your short frame would allow, but it's no use.

The cup remains tantalizingly out of reach, and it looks like you'd been at it for a while, silently battling the shelf like it was some kind of cruel joke.

Amused, Jude can't help the smirk tugging at his lips. The scene is oddly endearing.

His gaze sweeps over you, lingering for a moment on your curvy figure before he sets his drink down, the thought of leaving slipping from his mind. His legs move before he can stop himself, carrying him across the room with an easy stride. It takes him a second to cross the living room, dodging a couple of people on his way before finally reaching the kitchen.

Jude pauses just behind you, his height towering over your small frame. You don't notice him at first, too focused on your mission to retrieve the elusive cup.

A grin plays at the corner of his mouth as he reaches up with ease, his long arm grabbing the cup that had been giving you such a hard time.

You finally notice him, head snapping around, eyes widening as you take in his presence. You're flushed, whether from the exertion or embarrassment, Jude isn't sure, but the sight made something warm bubble up in his chest.

“Need a hand?” His voice is low, teasing, his smirk not fading.

You blink at him, brows furrowing slightly before a small, sheepish smile pulls at your lips. "That obvious, huh?" you mutter, voice soft but laced with a hint of humor. Your cheeks are a little pink, but you don't seem angry, just mildly exasperated.

Jude raises an eyebrow, his smirk still firmly in place. “I don’t know, you were getting pretty close. Maybe another few inches and you would've nailed it.”

You roll your eyes at him, embarrassment fading into something lighter. “Oh, shut up. Are you going to give me the cup, or are you just here to gloat?”

He chuckles, lowering the cup to your level. “Maybe a bit of both.”

You snatch it from his hand with a dramatic sigh, but the small smile you wear tells him you aren’t really upset. “Thanks... I guess,” you say, tone playfully begrudging. You set the cup down and turn to him, raising your eyes to his face.

There's a pause between you both as you take him in. He can see it, the way your gaze drags down his chest, over his arms, and back up again. His body responds to the attention, a spark of attraction lighting up inside him as he watches you study him.

He likes that. The way you look at him like that. He wants to see it again.

“So...” he says, interrupting your stare. “What's the occasion?” His eyes flick to the cup on the counter. “Late night tea party for one? I didn't know those were a thing.” He's not sure why he says it, maybe just to keep the light banter going. It feels like he should say something.

He watches you raise an eyebrow at him, the corner of your lips curling into an amused smile. “I needed a drink. Thought it was better than bothering the bartender.” You shrug, picking up the cup and sauntering over to the fridge. He follows you with his eyes, taking in the sway of your hips, his heart rate picking up a little as he thinks of how much fun he could have with your curvy little body.

“I can make one for you if you want,” Jude offers, his voice still teasing, but there’s a new edge to it, something more playful, maybe even flirtatious. He leans against the kitchen counter, eyes following your movements as you reach into the fridge, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

You glance back over your shoulder at him, eyebrows raised in mild surprise. "You? Make a drink?" you ask, amusement dripping from your tone.

He chuckles softly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve been known to make a decent one or two. What are you in the mood for?”

You pause at the fridge, considering his offer for a moment before shutting the door without grabbing anything. Turning to face him, you lean back against the counter, mirroring his stance. “Surprise me.”

Jude grins, pushing off the counter as he steps closer, now standing directly in front of you. The space between you narrows, not quite enough to be uncomfortable, but just enough for the tension to feel palpable. He reaches up to grab a couple of bottles from the liquor cabinet above the sink, and you watch him with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“So, do you always rescue people from their beverage-related dilemmas?” you ask, your tone light and teasing, though you can’t help but admire the ease with which he moves. There’s something effortless about him.

Jude smirks, eyes flicking to yours as he pours the first drink. “Only when they look as helpless as you did.”

You gasp, feigning offense, and lightly swat his arm. “I wasn’t helpless! I was just… strategically challenged.”

He laughs, the sound low and warm, and for a moment, it drowns out the rest of the party’s noise. “Right. My mistake,” he says, handing you the drink with a smirk that makes it clear he’s not sorry at all.

You take the glass from his hand, your fingers brushing against his for a brief moment, and you feel the electric tingle of the contact. It’s subtle but undeniable, and you wonder if he felt it too.

“Thanks,” you say, bringing the glass to your lips. You take a sip, the cool liquid soothing as it slides down your throat. You meet his gaze over the rim of the cup, noting the way his eyes seem to darken slightly as they lock onto yours.

“No problem,” he replies, voice quieter now, almost intimate despite the noise surrounding you. His eyes don’t leave yours, and for a brief second, it feels like the rest of the party has faded into the background, leaving just the two of you standing there, locked in this moment.

The drink is strong, but surprisingly good. You raise your eyebrows, impressed despite yourself.

“Well?” he asks, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter with a smug expression. “Do I pass?”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the smile that tugs at your lips. “Okay, fine. I’ll give you that one. It’s decent.”

"Decent, huh?" Jude’s grin widens, a flicker of something playful lighting up his face. "I'll take that as high praise."

You shake your head, laughing softly as the tension between you both begins to shift into something easier, more comfortable. “I didn’t mean that as praise,” you tease, taking another sip from your drink.

He chuckles at the light jab, the sound rumbling from his chest. “Of course not.” Jude glances at his watch, raising his brows slightly as he notices how late it is.

He hadn’t planned to stay for long, but he was having too much fun chatting with you to leave right now. It wasn’t like him to enjoy a conversation so much, especially at a party like this. There was something about you that drew him in, made him want to stay and learn more about you.

“Are you leaving?” you ask, seeming to notice his attention on his watch.

He raises his gaze to meet yours, blinking. He shrugs, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. “Was just about to leave, actually.”

Your smile falters slightly, just for a second. “Already? But the party’s just getting started.”

“Not really my scene,” Jude admits, glancing back toward the crowded living room.

You nod, gaze flicking back to the drink in your hand as you swirl it absentmindedly. “Well, glad you did. Otherwise, I’d probably still be standing here, struggling for that cup like a fool.”

His eyes glimmer with amusement. “It wasn’t that bad.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, come on. You were laughing at me.”

“Not laughing,” he corrects, a teasing edge to his voice. “Just…observing.”

His gaze flicks to yours, lips twitching with a grin. You arch an eyebrow at the response, but the playful teasing has you smiling again.

“So,” Jude says, suddenly changing the topic. “How do you know Trent?”

“He’s my sister's boyfriend” you reply, “You?”

“Wait! You're Y/N?” He blinks at you, realization dawning as he takes in the information. “Right. I should’ve made the connection earlier.” He laughs softly at himself, shaking his head.

You look exactly like your sister, with people sometimes mistaking you for twins. Your height was the only way for people to distinguish you sometimes. With her being 5'5 and you being 5'2.

You smile at his confusion, seeming amused by his reaction. “Yeah, that’s me. How do you know her?”

“Trent brought her to my New Year's party.”

“Oh, yeah...” You frown at him, as though remembering something. “You’re Jude, right? I think my sister has mentioned you a few times.”

He smirks at the memory, feeling something warm in his chest at the mention of your sister talking to you about him. “That’s me.”

A small silence falls between you both, the tension growing less easy now, but not quite uncomfortable. He thinks of something to say, but before he can open his mouth, you beat him to it.

“Do you want to step outside with me for a minute?” you ask, already setting your drink down on the counter.

He blinks, slightly taken aback by the sudden shift in topic. He was about to ask you to grab another drink with him when you mentioned going outside.

“Sure,” he replies finally, picking his drink up from the counter. “Lead the way.” He follows you through the crowded house, almost losing you a couple of times as you seem to disappear into the crowd. Damn, you're short.

The balcony is quieter than the inside, a couple smoking in the corner, but otherwise, it's fairly empty. The sounds of the party are muted now, a muffled background noise. The cold air feels like a welcome relief after the heat of the crowded living room.

“Nice out here,” he says as you sit down at a lounge, nodding to the empty spot next to you as he lowers himself onto it.

You smile, settling into your seat as you pull your jacket a little tighter against the chill. "Yeah, it's nice to get some air. Gets a bit suffocating in there."

Jude nods, glancing back toward the house where the sounds of the party still hum faintly through the walls. He’s relieved to be out here, away from the chaos, but more than that, he's glad you're here too. Conversation feels... easy with you, even though you've only known each other for a few minutes.

"So, you do this often?" he asks, leaning back in the seat, watching the way you absentmindedly twirl a strand of hair between your fingers.

You raise an eyebrow at him. "What, escape to the balcony?"

"No, I meant..." He gestures vaguely with his drink, smirking a little. "Come to these kinds of parties."

You laugh, the sound light and genuine. "Not really. Trent's parties are... something, but my sister drags me along sometimes. I think she feels bad leaving me home alone." You roll your eyes, but there's no real annoyance in your tone, just affection.

Jude studies you for a moment, noticing the way your expression softens when you talk about your sister. There's a warmth in your eyes that he hadn't seen earlier, and it makes him curious, wishing you would look at him like that.

"Seems like she cares about you," he says, tone a little softer now.

You shrug, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, she does. It's kind of nice, even if I act like it's annoying sometimes."

Jude nods, thinking about his own brother for a moment before turning the conversation back to you. "So, what do you do when you're not at parties you don't really want to be at?"

You snort softly, bringing your knees up to rest your feet on the edge of the lounge. "Oh, you know, just saving the world, one cup at a time."

He chuckles at your sarcasm, but there's a twinkle of genuine amusement in his eyes as he leans forward slightly. "Seriously though."

"Okay, okay," you relent, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I'm a med student, so I guess you could say I'm learning how to save lives."

Jude's eyebrows lift, impressed. "Wow, that's... intense."

You shrug, though there's a flicker of pride in your expression. "It is, but I love it. Always wanted to be a doctor."

"That's cool," he replies, leaning back again. "I bet you're great at it."

You glance at him, something in his tone catching your attention. He sounded sincere, not like the typical empty flattery you sometimes got. It makes you smile.

A comfortable silence settles between you both as you sip your drinks, the night air crisp but not too cold.

Jude watches you for a moment, noting the way the moonlight casts a soft glow on your face, making your eyes seem brighter in the darkness. There’s something calming about being out here with you, something grounding. It’s not what he expected when he first spotted you struggling with that cup, but now that you’re here, he’s not in any rush to leave.

“You know,” he starts, his voice low but warm, “this isn’t a bad way to spend the night after all.”

You glance over at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, I guess it’s not.” You pause, meeting his gaze. “I’m glad you didn’t bail at midnight.”

Jude grins, feeling that familiar warmth bloom in his chest again. "Me too." He leans forward, resting his arm on the back of the lounge chair. "I mean, it would have been a bummer to leave right when I'm just getting to know a woman this beautiful." He smiles softly, his eyes sparkling in the faint light.

You flush, dropping your gaze to your drink as you fidget with the glass. “Um... thanks, I guess.” Your cheeks are hot, but you can't help the flutter in your chest at his words.

Jude notices your blush though, and it brings a smirk to his lips. He enjoys the way you fumble with your drink, clearly nervous at the compliment. He leans back again, sipping his drink quietly for a moment before looking over at you.

"You’re cute," he says, voice dropping down into something softer, lower, more intimate. “Especially when you're embarrassed.”

The flush deepens as you look away, your eyes skipping to the floor. "I'm not embarrassed," you say, but the fact that you're avoiding looking at him says otherwise.

"Sure you’re not," he replies with a chuckle, leaning forward again.

You fidget in your seat, eyes still down. Your cheeks burn, and you’re glad for the dim lighting out here that hopefully hides it. "Stop it," you mutter, but there's a hint of laughter in your voice.

Jude laughs softly, reaching out and sliding his hand into yours. His hand is warm, calloused, bigger than yours, and his fingers wrap easily around yours. "Can't help it," he says, squeezing your hand lightly. "You're too cute."

You swallow, mouth suddenly dry as your eyes dart to his hand in yours. He's holding it loosely, not gripping it tightly, but it's enough to feel possessive somehow, enough to make your heart race and your cheeks flush with heat. You can’t remember the last time someone touched you like this, let alone with such intention.

Your gaze snaps to Jude's, eyes wide and slightly nervous. His eyes are darker now, pupils dilated, his mouth curved in a low, satisfied smile. His thumb presses into the center of your palm, the pressure soft, light, sending goosebumps down your arm.

You swallow again, trying to form words, but coming up with nothing. The air between you feels heavy suddenly, thick with heat and tension, your heart pounding in your ears. You glance back at the house, wondering if anyone can see, if anyone notices, but the windows are empty, the party still going strong inside.

Jude chuckles, low and soft. "You good?" he asks, voice dropping into something lower, husky.

You swallow hard again. Your eyes dart back to his, finding his still locked on yours, his gaze intense.

"Yeah, I'm good," you finally manage to get out, though your voice comes out barely above a whisper.

Jude's smile widens, and he shifts closer, your thighs now touching. "Good." His hand tightens a little around yours, squeezing lightly. "Good," he repeats, his voice dipping into something even softer, more intimate before placing his now empty glass on a nearby table along with yours.

His eyes are still locked on yours, and the way he's watching you, it feels like he's looking right through the layers you’ve carefully built up. It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable, but not in a way that’s uncomfortable. In a way that feels… thrilling.

You bite your lip, the warmth of his hand grounding you even as your pulse races. There’s a tension now, something thick in the air that wasn’t there before. It crackles between you, electric, and you don’t know whether to pull away or lean into it.

"Jude…" you start, but your voice trails off. You’re not sure what you’re trying to say. You can’t even think straight.

He tilts his head, watching you carefully. "Yeah?"

You swallow, forcing yourself to hold his gaze, though your stomach twists in nervous anticipation. There’s a strange, fluttery feeling in your chest, like you’re standing at the edge of something new, something you can’t quite name. "What are we doing here?"

He smirks, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, deliberate motion. "Just talking," he says, but the way he says it, the way his eyes darken, suggests that there’s a lot more simmering beneath the surface.

You laugh softly, a little breathless. "Is that what this is?"

His grin widens, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. He just watches you, studying the way you shift nervously in your seat, the way your lip trembles slightly as you bite it. Finally, he leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "What do you want it to be?"

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a long moment, you don’t say anything. You can feel the weight of the question hanging between you, his gaze heavy with something you can’t quite place. Something that makes your skin tingle, makes your heart beat faster.

"Jude..." you start again, but again, your voice dies off.

His grin softens. "Yeah?" His hand squeezes yours lightly, his fingers brushing over your wrist as his eyes dart to your mouth.

You feel your cheeks heat all over again, and there's a sudden ache between your legs that you can’t ignore. You fidget, trying not to think about it, trying to focus on the conversation instead. “This is a little... intense, isn't it?"

He chuckles softly, leaning in even closer, his lips just inches from yours now. "It doesn't have to be." His voice drops to a whisper as he looks at you. "I promise. Whatever you want."

For a moment, you don’t speak. You just look at him.

The dim light casts gentle shadows across his face—strong jawline, high cheekbones, and a slightly crooked smile that adds a touch of roguish charm to his otherwise serene expression. His lips are full, inviting. And his eyes. Oh, how beautiful they are. There’s a way he looks at you that makes you feel like the only person in the world. You want to stare into them forever.

He's beautiful.

Slowly, you reach out with your free hand, wrapping it around the back of his neck to pull him closer. Close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath on your mouth. Smell the subtle scent of his cologne—a hint of something warm and musky, with a touch of something fresh—mingling with the crisp night air.

Jude lets out a low exhale as he leans in the last few inches to meet you, pressing his lips softly against yours. They're warm and firm, gentle as they slide against yours, teasing a little with each movement. He doesn't rush it, just lets the kiss play out slowly as his hand squeezes around yours, pulling you closer.

You sigh against his mouth as he slides his tongue over your lower lip, a low noise of pleasure slipping from your throat. He groans softly at the sound, his hand shifting from yours to wrap around your side and pull you into his lap, your legs falling to either side of him on the lounge chair. You go willingly, letting him slide his arms around you, feeling him against you now.

Jude breaks the kiss after a moment, leaning back to look at you. "You taste good," he murmurs, his voice rougher now, deeper, his words sending heat flooding through you.

You flush, your cheeks warming again as your eyes drop to his mouth. "You too," you reply, barely above a whisper.

He hums softly, his fingers trailing along your side to brush against your waist. Your breath hitches at the light touch, and his hand moves again, his palm sliding down over your hips. "So fucking soft," he mutters, a smile playing on his lips. "I want to feel every inch of you."

A shiver runs through you at his words, desire burning inside of you at the promise in his voice. "Do it," you whisper, leaning in again to brush your mouth over his.

He groans, his hand pulling your crotch down to meet his. Jude's arms tighten around you, and you feel the hard length of him pressing against your core. You gasp against his mouth at the feel, your hips twitching slightly as he pushes you tighter against him. You both moan softly, your fingers tightening around the back of his head as you grind against him.

Jude pulls back with a chuckle, looking at you through his lashes. "Fuck, baby. You're going to kill me." He leans in again, pressing his mouth to yours as his hands slide underneath your skirt to cup your ass. He kneads your flesh gently, his hands rough against your skin as he squeezes. "Fuck. I knew you'd feel this good." He groans low in his throat, his tongue sliding over your lips once more.

You whimper into his mouth, heat burning in your lower belly as you rock against him. You're wet already, his touches, his words lighting you on fire. His hand shifts, one still cupping your ass as

the other slides between you to press against your clit through your panties.

A choked moan escapes you as you grind into his hand, your hips twisting against him. "Please," you breathe, breaking away from his kiss to lean against his shoulder. "Jude. Please." Your nails dig into his back at the pressure of his fingers through your underwear, his thumb sliding over your clit with each movement of your hips.

Jude lets out a harsh breath, his mouth running along your neck as his hands tighten around you. "God, baby," he groans. "I can't. There's too many people." He nips at your throat, his teeth sliding gently over your skin. "I don't want to share you. Not for one fucking second."

You cry out softly at his words, your hips bucking against his hand. "But I want you," you murmur, rolling your hips into his touch, your teeth sinking into his shoulder.

Jude's hands pull away from you, one cupping your jaw as you lean back against his arm, panting. "Look at me," he rasps, his eyes dark as they meet yours. "There's no way we're going to be able to do this right here." He trails his hand over your breasts, cupping them gently as he murmurs. "I need you too fucking bad, and there's not a chance in hell that I'm going to get you out of your pants before someone realizes what the fuck is going on."

He groans, leaning in to brush his lips over yours. "Come back to my place," he whispers against your mouth, his hand slipping over your hip once more. "Let me take care of you."

You flush at his words, his touch sending fire shooting through you. Your hand wraps around his arm, fingers digging into his skin. "Okay," you agree, your voice barely above a whisper, your eyes slipping closed.

"Jesus," Jude breathes out, pulling you against his chest as he leans his mouth against your forehead. "If I take you home like this," he says, his voice low in your ear, "I'm not going to let you leave my bed for the rest of the night."

You bite your lip, swallowing back a whimper. "That sounds good," you breathe out, heat flooding your body at his words.

Jude’s breath shudders against your forehead. The night air feels colder now, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through your veins. You can’t help but shiver slightly, but it’s not from the cold.

“Let’s go,” he murmurs, his voice low and urgent as he starts to stand, lifting you with him. His grip on you is firm but gentle, as if afraid you might disappear if he holds too tightly. You smile a little at the thought, letting him guide you back inside.

As you walk, his hand slides to your lower back, his arm still wrapped around you. Your smile deepens, and your breath hitches, catching in your throat as you notice the way he’s staring down at you. “What?” you ask, a giggle bubbling up in your throat.

He smiles, shaking his head. “Nothing,” he replies voice barely heard over the music. “I just like looking at you.”

You blush, biting your lip as you turn your gaze. A few of his friends glance at you, their gazes flicking to Jude’s hand wrapped around you before they turn back to their conversation.

He guides you through the crowd, his hand never leaving the small of your back, making sure you’re close to him. He stops by a group of friends, his mouth moving as he talks to them, but you don’t hear his words. You’re too busy looking up at him, taking in the hard planes of his face, the way his eyes flicker between you and his friends.

You don’t notice when he pulls out his phone, a smile on his lips as he types something out quickly. He slips it into his pocket, turning to wrap his arm back around you. His eyes flicker over your face, a grin playing on his lips as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “My driver is here,” he says softly. “Want to go?”

You nod quickly, heat burning inside of you. He doesn’t hesitate, pulling you through the crowd again as you make your way to the door.

Jude holds your hand as he opens the door, stepping back to let you exit first. You do, walking out of Trent's penthouse and into the cool night air. The Porsche is parked at the curb, its doors already open as you step out. A driver stands next to it, his hands clasped in front of him as he waits.

You get in first, feeling like royalty as you slide into the smooth leather seats. The door closes behind you, and Jude slides in beside you. You catch a glimpse of his smile as he slides his arm around you, pulling your legs over his lap as he leans against you.

The car glides smoothly from the curb, heading down the highway toward the city. You lean back against the seat, feeling Jude's hand slide up your leg, his fingertips ghosting under the hem of your skirt. You turn to face him, grinning as you play with the collar of his shirt.

His eyes flick to your hand, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips as you tease the fabric. "What are you thinking?" Jude murmurs, his voice thick with that same low, gravelly tone that sends shivers down your spine.

You shrug, feigning innocence. "Just wondering if you always wear shirts this nice," you tease, brushing your fingertips against the fabric again, trailing lightly along the edge of his collar.

Jude chuckles, low and deep, leaning his head back against the seat as his fingers slide further up your thigh, sending a wave of heat crashing through you.

Your breath catches, and you can't help the way your body reacts to his touch. The closeness, the heat, the tension—all of it coils tight inside of you like a spring wound too tight, waiting to snap. You glance down, watching his hand inch further beneath the fabric of your skirt, teasing but never fully satisfying.

The city lights outside blur as the car speeds down the highway, a soft hum filling the silence between you. The world seems distant, fading away as you lose yourself in the moment, in him. Jude’s hand pauses, resting just at the top of your thigh, his thumb brushing back and forth lazily over your skin. It’s torture, slow and deliberate, making your body crave more.

"You have no idea what you’re in for, baby," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You grin, the anticipation coiling tighter in your belly as you press your mouth to his jaw, kissing along the sharp line there, tasting the faint hint of cologne on his skin. Jude’s hand shifts, sliding up to rest on your lower back, his fingers splayed wide as he presses you closer against him. His breath is ragged, his pulse quick under your lips, and you know he’s as affected by this as you are.

The car slows to a stop, and you glance out the window to see the entrance to a sleek high-rise building, all glass and steel, gleaming under the night sky. Jude doesn’t waste a second. He slides out of the car, his hand still gripping yours as he helps you out, pulling you close as he leads you toward the entrance.

The moment you step inside the building, the atmosphere shifts—quiet, intimate. The lobby is dimly lit, modern, and elegant, with polished floors and soft lighting. You barely register any of it, too focused on the way Jude’s fingers are laced with yours, the heat of his hand grounding you in the moment.

An elevator door opens, and Jude pulls you inside, pressing you up against the mirrored wall the second the doors close. His mouth is on yours in an instant, the kiss hot and urgent, all of the restraint from earlier gone in a flash. You gasp against his lips, your hands tangling in his hair as you kiss him back just as fiercely, your body arching into his.

His hands are everywhere—on your waist, sliding up your back, gripping your hips. He groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, making you weak at the knees. "I’ve been waiting all night for this," he murmurs between kisses, his voice low and full of need.

You pull back just enough to look at him, your breaths coming fast, your heart pounding in your chest. "So have me," you whisper, your voice breathless, your fingers tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Jude's eyes darken, his grip on you tightening as the elevator dings softly, signaling that you've reached his floor. He doesn't say another word. Instead, he grabs your hand again, pulling you down the hall toward his apartment, his pace quick and purposeful. Your pulse quickens with every step, the anticipation thrumming through your veins.

The door to his apartment swings open, and before you can even take in your surroundings, Jude pulls you inside, his hands already sliding under your jacket, pushing it off your shoulders as he backs you up against the nearest wall.

His mouth crashes down on yours again, the kiss rough and demanding, full of the same need that's been building inside you all night.

You arch against him, your arms looping around his neck as you pull him closer, kissing him back with just as much passion. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist tight as he presses you harder into the wall, his hips grinding against yours.

You can feel the hard length of him through his jeans, his cock straining against the fabric, sending a jolt of arousal through you. A whimper slips from your lips, and Jude growls low in his throat, his teeth grazing your jaw, your throat, making your skin prickle with goosebumps.

"Fuck," he groans, his voice rough with desire. "You're so fucking sexy." His hands shift, sliding up under your skirt to grip your ass, his fingers kneading the flesh as he lifts you up, his hard cock pressing right where you need it most.

You cry out, your head falling back against the wall, your breath catching as he grinds his cock against your pussy through the fabric of his jeans, the friction making your body clench tight with anticipation. His mouth is relentless, licking, sucking, and biting its way down your neck, sending waves of heat through you.

"Jude," you gasp, his name slipping from your lips on a moan.

He makes a rough sound, deep in his throat, and lifts you higher against him, his hands rough on your skin, his grip bruising. "Your ass is perfect," he mutters, his mouth traveling back to yours as he presses your hips harder into the wall, the thrusts of his cock against you almost enough to send you over the edge.

You're panting, gasping, your body trembling as the tension winds tighter and tighter inside you. Jude's hands are everywhere, groping and teasing as he devours your mouth, his tongue thrusting in and out in a rhythm that matches the thrusts of his hips.

The pleasure is almost too much, the anticipation threatening to boil over at any second. But then Jude suddenly stops, pulling back just a bit to look at you. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide with lust as his chest heaves with heavy breaths.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks, his voice still low and rough, but his eyes locked intently on yours.

You nod, breathless. "more than anything" you answer honestly.

He nods once, then presses your body flat against the wall again. "Good," he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you again. It's hard and fast, almost brutal. Then, before you even know what's happening, he lifts you away from the wall and carries you away.

Jude’s grip is steady, firm as he carries you effortlessly through the spacious apartment. You barely notice the surroundings, too consumed by the fire between you, by the way his touch sets your skin ablaze. His lips find yours again, devouring, urgent, as he moves with purpose down the hallway.

You don't care where he's taking you as long as he keeps going. The feel of his hard cock against you is addictive. You arch your hips, pressing closer against him as he walks.

The next thing you know, your back hits the soft surface of his bed, and you land with a bounce, your skirt riding up your thighs. Jude stops at the foot of the bed, his eyes raking you from head to toe as he begins to pull off his shirt. The fabric ripples down his torso, revealing a chiseled chest and abs, taut muscles flexing beneath his skin.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding harder in your chest, anticipation burning through you like fire.

He’s bigger than you in every way. His hands are twice the size of yours, his biceps thicker than your thighs. He’s not a huge man, not overly muscled, but there’s a raw power in his body that’s undeniable. And you’re so tiny compared to him — so small that your head only comes up to his shoulder.

It’s not something he usually thinks about, but in the moment, it becomes a living thing. The size difference between the two of you is so apparent, so obvious, it’s hard to ignore. And for some reason, it makes Jude’s cock even harder.

Your eyes are locked on him, dark and dilated, as if you want nothing more than his hands on you. He steps closer, reaching for the fly of his pants. Your gaze tracks his every movement, your breathing quickening as he unbuttons his jeans.

You wet your lips, sitting up to lean forward on the bed. Your eyes are wide, your cheeks flushed with heat as Jude’s pants fall to his feet, revealing his boxers, the shape of his cock straining thickly against the fabric.

You lick your lips again, your eyes drifting up to his as he kicks his pants away, standing at the foot of his bed in only his boxers. The room seems to grow hotter.

"I'm going to fuck you so good," he promises, his voice low, husky, making you whimper with need.

The way he says it makes you want to agree, to give him whatever he wants, whenever he wants it. You bite your lip, your pulse throbbing in your ears as he steps closer to you, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck.

He hauls you close, your thighs parting automatically as his knees hit the mattress and he comes down on top of you. His mouth finds yours, his lips coaxing yours open as he slides his tongue into your mouth. His kiss is hot and wet and everything you want in this moment.

He kisses you deep and slow, his weight pressing you down into his mattress. You moan into the kiss, your tongue moving against his as you roll your hips against him. He groans into the kiss, his cock twitching against you where you're grinding against it.

His hand slides down your body, his palm smoothing up to cup your breast. You squeak as he grabs it and squeezes. He smiles against your mouth, thrusting his hips against you as you mewl and squirm beneath him.

"Fuck," he grunts, kissing down your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your throat. He nips at your skin, sucking a mark on the skin above your collarbone.

You whine, clutching at his shoulders and he bites harder, making you gasp. The sound turns him on, his hips jutting against you like he can't stop himself.

He pulls back to look at you, a smile twisting his lips. You're flushed pink, your pupils blown wide, lips plump from kissing him.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his expression tender as he looks at you, his hands moving over you in a slow caress. He tugs your skirt down your hips, tossing it aside, leaving you in just your lingerie. His hands come back up to you, running down the sides of your thighs, his thumbs brushing the waistband of your panties.

You moan as he touches you, your back arching. You're desperate for more. He laughs, his touch teasing, light as he rubs his thumbs along the edges.

"Please," you whimper, reaching for his shoulders. His hands slide up, his thumbs hooking into the straps of your bra and tugging it down your arms. He pulls it off, his gaze falling on the curves of your naked breasts. He groans as he takes you in, his eyes hot as they look at you.

He drops his head to suck a nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it, making you cry out. His hand finds your other breast, kneading it in his palm, squeezing. You gasp, your hips jolting up at the feel of his mouth on you.

He sucks harder, his teeth raking over your sensitive flesh. You moan, your nails digging into his back as he draws on your breast.

A shiver runs through your body as his hand falls to the waistband of your underwear. He tugs them down your legs and you raise your hips automatically, letting him pull them all the way off.

You're naked now, exposed and trembling with need as he looks down at you, sprawled out on his bed. Fuck.

You look so hot. So tiny and small compared to him, it’s impossible not to feel that urge to use you, to bend you to his will. It’s been there since the balcony, his desire to own you, to take care of you, but right now, it’s almost overwhelming.

"Spread your legs," he murmurs as he runs a finger up the inside of your thigh. You part your knees automatically for him and his hand moves straight up to your pussy. He presses his palm flat against your mound, his fingers slipping through your folds to feel your heat.

"Fuck," he groans, "look at you." You can't help but look. Your body is so much smaller than his, his hands spanning half the length of your thigh.

You gasp at the touch, your head falling back against the bed as he teases your clit. His fingers slide between your folds, rubbing, parting you open to find the entrance to your cunt. He circles it, his finger dipping inside, and you gasp.

You try to roll your hips and he moves his hand, using his palm to press you still.

"Let me play with you," he murmurs. You whimper, your body shivering with the touch. His mouth comes down over your breast again as he thrusts his finger into you with a squelch. "Shit, baby you're so wet." You moan at the stretch of his finger inside you, arching up against him. His teeth graze your nipple, his lips sucking it in his mouth.

You whine at the feel of him sucking on your nipple while his finger is inside you. The dual sensations make you gasp for breath as he thrusts into you, deep, making you clench around him.

His mouth moves to your other breast and he slides a second finger inside you as he sucks on your skin. You cry out, your back bowing as he uses his hand to hold you in place.

He finger fucks you, working your body with his touch as he nips at the curve of your breast, his teeth scraping your skin. He's careful not to hurt you, but you want him to go further.

He seems to realize that as he kisses his way back up your body. He holds his weight off you on one arm, his other hand still buried between your thighs as he works your cunt with his fingers.

You gasp as he curls his fingers inside you, stroking over your g-spot as he kisses your lips. You feel the build of your orgasm in the tightening of your belly, in the way your toes curl and your thighs clench. He rubs you faster, his mouth eating at yours as he drives you higher and higher.

The orgasm hits you like a wave, rolling through your body and leaving you trembling in his hold. You cry out against his mouth as he rides you through it, his fingers working your pussy until it's spent.

He kisses your lips softly as he pulls his hand from you, his cock still hard against your leg. He shifts his hips to the side, sliding between your legs as you lay there, flushed and panting.

His hands move to his boxers, tugging them down his hips as you watch. Your eyes grow wide at the sight of his cock, thick and long and hot. He's so big. Unlike anyone you've had before. You have no idea how he’s going to fit.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Jude’s mouth moving over your stomach, kissing his way down your body. His kisses are slow, sweet and you let him, relaxing against the bed with a moan.

His lips move over your hipbones, his tongue licking the skin and you can't help the giggle that escapes. He pauses to look up at you, his eyebrow arched in amusement.

"You ticklish?" he asks. You nod and he chuckles as he moves closer. His mouth drops to your mound and you gasp as his lips place a gentle kiss on it.

"Jude," you whisper, your fingers sliding into his hair.

He moans, his lips moving over your pussy. He kisses your folds as he pushes them apart with his fingers and you arch under the touch. Your thighs part, falling open to let him have his way and he takes it, kissing along your slit, his tongue flicking out to tease you. You shiver at the feel of it on your clit and he repeats it, circling your little nub in a teasing caress.

He growls against you as he licks you open. Your cunt is wet and pink and fucking perfect. His tongue is long and rough against your sensitive skin and you gasp, clutching at the bedding as he goes to town. He sucks on you, his tongue pushing inside, licking your taste on his lips as he drinks you in.

His hands come down on either side of your thighs, pressing them open as his mouth finds your clit and sucks. Your body jolts at the feel of his lips, his tongue flicking at you in a quick caress that has you gasping in shock.

You whimper, your toes curling as he eats at you. You've never felt anything like this before. It's incredible, the way his mouth feels on you, his tongue stroking you in long swipes.

"Jude, fuck," you gasp and his growl vibrates against your clit as he works you towards another orgasm.

It doesn't take long. You're so sensitive, so worked up already. His tongue flicks over your clit in quick circles and you burst in a rush, your whole body trembling with the force of it. Your thighs clamp down around his head as he holds you steady, his tongue still stroking your clit through it.

You’re sensitive to the point of pain by the time he eases off, licking slowly as he lets you come down from the orgasm. You whine, your legs still clamped around his head and he gently works you open, his hands soft on your thighs.

His face is wet with your taste as he comes up over you, kissing you deep and filthy, making you taste yourself on his lips.

He's hard as hell against your thigh, his cock pressing into you and you roll your hips up in instinctive need. He groans, grinding his cock against you, rutting you like he needs it.

"I need you," you pant, kissing him, your hands running down his back. "Please, I need it."

His groan is thick and guttural. "Yeah, baby, need that big cock in that tight little pussy? Want me to fuck it? Hm?" He thrusts his hips against you to punctuate his words and you moan. You gasp, your eyes going wide at the way he talks, but fuck, you like it. It makes you hot, his dirty words making you need more.

You nod, your fingers sliding down to his ass, holding his hips tighter to your body. "Yes," you agree, "please, I want it."

"Fuck, you are so fucking hot," he whispers as he leans to the side to reach for a drawer in the bed, pulling out a condom. He tears it open and slides it over his cock, his hands slick with lube as he fists himself, working his shaft. Never taking his eyes off you. Fuck. This is going to be so good.

He drops on top of you, his weight heavy on you as he braces his elbows beside your head. his hands running up your thighs and hooking underneath your knees. He pushes them up towards your chest, opening you wide and you feel vulnerable in his hold, tiny and exposed as he lines his cock up with your cunt.

"You ready for me, baby? Gonna fill you up," he growls, his eyes dark and serious as he watches your reaction.

You can only moan, unable to talk as you feel his cock at the entrance to your body, hot and hard against you.

He stops, his eyes locked on yours as he checks on you. "You okay?" he whispers.

Your breath hitches, and your eyes flicker to his. There’s a tenderness in his gaze, cutting through the thick haze of lust that surrounds you both. The way his voice softens when he asks—it's a moment of clarity, and it grounds you.

You nod, feeling the pressure of him right there, so close to entering. "Yeah," you murmur, your voice breathy, lost in the pleasure he's giving you. "I'm okay."

Jude's lips curve into a small smile, one that only deepens the wetness between your legs. His hands squeeze your thighs gently, reassuring you. "Good. I'll take care of you," he promises, and then his eyes drop to where he's pressed against you.

You moan, your mouth dropping open as you feel him press into you.

"Ah," you gasp, looking up at him in shock. Your fingers curl into the sheets, your body not yet adjusted to his size. He's huge inside you, thick, your walls stretching to accommodate him. The burn of his penetration is almost painful and you clench around his cock instinctively.

His breath shudders, and you can hear the restraint in his groan as he fights to keep it slow. "Fuck, you’re so tight," he mutters, forehead resting against yours as your gummy walls squeeze his cock.

You can feel him everywhere. His breath hot on your neck, his hands firm on your legs, his cock stretching you in ways you’ve never felt before.

You're fucking ruined for life. Ruined for anyone else.

You gasp, your body taut and trembling, and he moans as he settles deep inside your body. His eyes flutter closed, his head tipping back as he gasps.

For a moment, neither of you move. His hips stay locked against yours, the both of you catching your breath. Jude’s hands caress your thighs, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin there as if to ease you into this. His lips ghost over your cheek, whispering soft words you can barely make out, but you know they’re for you. Only for you.

And then he moves.

It’s a slow, gentle pull out, almost torturous in its pace, followed by a deep thrust back in. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, your back arching as you take him.

"Fuck, you're tight, baby," he pants. "Oh shit, I knew you'd feel good." He drops his forehead to yours with a groan. "But this," he thrusts, his cock moving inside you in a slow, deep stroke, "this is better than I imagined." He looks down at you, watching you as he fucks you, your cunt clenching tight around him as he moves in you. His cock fills you full, so full, and you're hot and tight and wet as hell around him, and he fucking loves it. You can see it in his eyes.

"Jude," his name is a moan as he drives deep inside you, hitting you with a thrust that makes you gasp in shock.

"That feel good, baby?" he pants, his hands sliding down to grab at your ass, holding you still as he fucks into you. You clutch at him, your arms wrapping around him. He kisses you deep, his mouth dropping to yours as his cock thrusts into your cunt. "Love you around my cock," he grunts against your lips. "It's so fucking perfect." Your whimpers make him growl.

Your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in his skin as he fucks you harder, faster, pounding into you. The bed creaks beneath you, the air heavy with the sounds of skin against skin, of gasps and moans. You’re lost in it, in him—completely undone by the way he makes you feel.

It’s like nothing else matters. Nothing. Right now, all that exists is Jude, his body moving against yours, his cock filling you over and over until you can’t think straight.

"Look at you," he pants, "taking it so well." You can feel his words vibrate in his chest, and it only drives you higher.

It’s too much. Too much sensation, too much pleasure, and you cry out, the sound high-pitched and desperate as you clench down around him. "Fuck, fuck, baby," he growls against your lips as he feels it. "That feels so fucking good. Look at me. Look at me when I make you cum." His fingers move down to rub your clit, your pussy clenching tighter around him and he groans, thrusting into you with a growl as he tips you over the edge.

"Jude, Jude," you pant his name like a prayer, your nails digging into his shoulders, holding him closer. "Oh shit!" You feel your pussy clench and ripple around him, milking his cock for everything.

Your eyes flutter, your head tipping back with a gasp as your body trembles through the orgasm. Your cunt pulses tight around his cock and he groans as he takes you through it. His thrusts become unsteady, deep and hard and fast as he pounds into your little cunt and you take it.

"Oh yeah," he murmurs against your neck. "There you go. Cum on my cock, baby. That's a good girl." His mouth moves to your shoulder, his teeth sinking into you as he grunts, his body shuddering with pleasure.

He’s close. You feel it in the way he holds himself against you, in the way his breaths become short and heavy against your skin. "Fuck, I'm going to cum, baby," he gasps.

You clench down on his cock with a moan, squeezing his length inside you, and his mouth drops to yours in a hot and filthy kiss.

He fucks into you with a grunt, his thrusts quick and hard as he seeks his release. His body moves against yours in rough jerks, his cock thick inside you, filling you. He growls as he fucks, his lips dropping to your neck.

"Baby," he gasps, "fuck," he moans again, his voice so deep it’s almost a whine. You feel him shudder against you, his whole body trembling as he thrusts into you.

"You want my cum?" he growls against your shoulder and you moan at the words, your body already clenching in response.

"Yes," you gasp. "In me, please." He thrusts deep inside you at your words, his groan loud in your ear.

"I’m gonna fill you so full of it," he pants, grinding deep inside you. "So full," he grunts, face buried in the crook of your neck "gonna fill you up and then it's going to drip out of your tight little pussy."

His lips are hot on your skin as he gasps your name, his body jerking into you. "Fuck," he breathes, his hips rolling against yours in a deep grind.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as he rides out the pleasure, cumming again for the fourth time that night. He groans, his hips jerking against yours, thrusting his cock deep inside you as he empties into the condom. His fingers curl into you, holding your body close as he fills you, and it’s so good.

The way he feels inside you, the way his cock throbs and pulses as he cums. You can feel it, even through the condom, and it makes you gasp. He thrusts again, groaning as he keeps going, wanting to fuck you through it as much as you do.

And then it’s over.

His body shudders through the aftershocks and he goes still on top of you. His head drops to your shoulder, his breath coming in ragged pants as he holds you close, riding out the aftershocks together.

His face moves back to yours, his lips pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Well, shit," he mutters against you. "You're amazing."

You giggle, your hands running over his back. His weight is comforting on top of you as you come down, your breaths slowing. You let him stay for a moment, enjoying the weight and heat of his body before he pulls out and rolls to the side, stripping off the condom and tossing it into a bin by his bed.

You follow him to the side, turning and pressing a kiss to his shoulder as you let the afterglow wash through you. He smiles, turning to look at you and lifting his arm.

"Come here," he murmurs.

You roll onto your side, pressing against him as he curls his arm around you, pulling you close. He nuzzles into your hair, his fingers running through it as he pulls your body into his. Your leg lifts, your thighs opening around one of his as you curl into him, the softness of the bed and pillows enveloping you.

"Mmmhmm," he mutters, running his hands down your back. "God, I don't want to move. You feel so good."

You smile against him, kissing his chest. "Me neither. I'm comfortable right here."

He laughs, his chest vibrating with it. He rolls a little closer to the edge of the bed, reaching down and pulling up the blanket. He wraps it around you both, tucking it in so that it covers you completely and you're nestled into him, warm and comfortable.

"Better?" he asks.

"Mmm, perfect."

He hums, his arms coming around you again. He snuggles into you, nuzzling your cheek.

"You are perfect," he tells you, his voice gentle as he lets the afterglow take him over. His lips move against your shoulder, his hands rubbing your back and hips. "Thank you for tonight."

You smile, turning your head so you can kiss him. He moves with you, meeting you in it as his hand cups your cheek. His lips are soft and sweet, his tongue teasing yours as he kisses you back.

When you break it, you both smile and snuggle in, holding each other close.

"Mmmm," he says. "I'm gonna want to do that a lot more." His arm curls around your body, holding you close as you snuggle deeper. "Are you alright?"

"I'm great," you tell him. "That was amazing."

He grins, his body relaxing as he holds onto you. His voice drops into a soft mumble, the last of the afterglow pulling him over. "Good. I can't wait to do it again. Best sex of my life." His hand runs up your side, his finger brushing against your breast. "Can't wait for more of that. You're perfect, baby girl." His lips press against the side of your head and he holds you close. "So perfect for me."

His words send a spark of happiness through you and you smile, dropping your head onto his chest. He holds you closer, his fingers rubbing up your back, his hands resting on your lower back and ass.

Then you feel his body pulling away from yours. You mumble a protest, reaching for him, and you can feel him chuckle.

"Shh, baby, I'll be right back," he tells you softly. His lips press a kiss to your forehead and then he's rolling away from you, moving to the side of the bed. "Just need to run to the bathroom for a minute."

You hum, stretching and letting your eyes flutter open. He's pulling on his boxer briefs, moving out of the bedroom. You watch him go with a little sigh, your body still buzzing from the afterglow. You roll over onto your back, running a hand through your hair and smiling up at the ceiling.

God, he's perfect.

He comes back a few minutes later, a warm towel in his hands. You turn your head to look at him as he moves back onto the bed, a soft smile on his face. He runs the towel up your thigh, leaning down to kiss your hip.

"Spread your legs for me," he murmurs.

Your thighs drop open, letting him clean you with the warm towel. His mouth moves against your skin, his tongue licking at your hip as he holds the towel against you. The warmth feels good against your pussy and you let out a soft sigh, tilting your hips into his touch.

"Does that feel better?" he asks. You nod, his eyes lifting to yours.

"Yeah, that feels really good." Your voice comes out breathy and soft as he cleans you again. "Mmmm."

He smiles, his lips brushing against your stomach. His tongue flicks out to lick at your skin as he moves his mouth lower. You shudder a little, wanting to push your hips up, and his mouth lifts to yours.

He crawls over you, bracing his arms on either side of you. His lips cover yours, kissing you slowly. His tongue slips between your lips, his teeth catching your lip as he moves his hips against you.

Your thighs lift up around his, holding him close between your legs. His cock is hard again, pressing against your stomach, and he groans as he feels it.

"Again?" he asks you.

You smile and nod, reaching up to kiss him again. He smiles too, his lips covering yours.

"Mmmm," you murmur against him. "Yes."

-Bianca🌻

#footballer x reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham #jude x you

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casualhedonists · 11 months ago

Text

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

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

chapter: 3/? (MASTERLIST)

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 mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, power play, oral sex, thigh riding, degradation, dirty talk, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

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

taglist: if you’d like to be tagged, leave a comment on the masterlist post and i’ll add you! 💌

a/n: thank you for your patience and condolences / kind messages over the past week i’ve been awol. i’m very happy to be back. very long, filthy and much awaited chapter ahead, so strap in and hope you enjoy the ride.

in the words of miss zegler herself: oh we are so back.

You weren’t sure how long he stared at you, smiling with a fire in his eyes that rivalled yours until it was eclipsed. A third and final time, you found yourself speechless, dumbstruck, and one final time, much like the others, you took a few shaky steps backwards, before turning and fleeing.

He knew. He’d known this whole time. How long had he been planning this? Exactly how much of this had been an act, with Snow puppeteering you as you slowly lost your mind?

You almost felt pity for the girl, because she was played just like you were. She was a mere pawn in his game of chess, where he’d toyed with you until you were backed into a corner, unable to make a move.

Well, not this time. Now you knew what he was playing, you were ready to up your game. This wouldn’t be another stalemate; you wanted to win, and you had a few ideas of where to start.

You were already up and dressed when you heard a knock at your door the next morning.

Dreading the worst – despite the fact that Snow had never actually been in your room before, but the rules had changed now and you weren’t sure quite how much – you paused for a second to prepare yourself, praying that he wouldn’t be there, ready to put a stop to your plans before they’d even started.

You fell lucky. It was one of Snow’s footmen, George.

“Good morning, ma’am. I, um.” He swallowed, not meeting your eye. “I have a message from Master Snow. He’d like for you to meet him for breakfast in a half hour, if you will. He says you have something… quite important to discuss.”

Typical Snow. Never liked to get his hands dirty. Too proud to knock at your door himself.

You considered.

“George, could you please tell Coriolanus that if I’ve already eaten, and that I’ll come to him when I see fit. If he isn’t satisfied,” you added, for his sake, as you knew Snow wasn’t above killing the messenger, “Say I have an urgent matter to tend to, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

You grew a lump in your throat from your refusal, fearing the consequences. But you’d set your plan into motion now and there was no going back. Once George had been sent on his way, you snuck down the stairs on the far end of the building and slipped out the door through the servants’ quarters, where you knew Snow wouldn’t see you leave. The one upside to the last few weeks was that you’d learned how to sneak around the manor unnoticed. You were certain there were at least three hallways he’d had never even set foot in.

You had Lucille call Henry – Snow’s driver – in advance so you could leave right away.

“Where are we going, ma’am?” He glanced at you over his shoulder as you slid into the black town car.

“Head into the city. I’ll explain on the way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Henry took some convincing – and some light bribing – to finally cave and tell you what and where this gentleman’s club was. Of course, it was a risk, a roll of the dice to go there without concrete proof, but you knew Snow. You knew his little neuroses and hang-ups, and he was paranoid; in all senses, it would seem, except when it came to you. If he’d been frequenting this club for some time – some years, according to Henry – and trusted their discretion, then you highly doubted he’d play Russian roulette and pick somewhere else.

You were dropped off outside, and sent Henry to the tailor to pick up some of Snow’s things; an excuse for the outing, but a part of your plan too. He was hesitant to leave you alone in such a place, but you insisted you knew exactly how to handle yourself, and so he gave in.

You’d deliberately dressed down for what you were about to do, worn your old coat and let your hair down with a hood pulled over it. It being daytime, the place was closed for business, but you knocked on the front door expectantly.

You waited. Went over the plan, and knocked again.

This time, the door opened and a burly man now stood between you and the inside of the brothel. Your curiosity made peek over his shoulder before he cleared his throat.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“Yes. My name is Margaret, sir, I’m a maid at the, uh,” You dropped your voice to a low whisper, “Snow household. I have a message for the owner of this establishment, from my master. Is he here?”

The man cleared his throat and glanced around the nearly empty street, then beckoned you in quickly.

“Anything for Mr Snow, miss. Right this way.”

There was your proof.

The empty club was a classy one, you had to give Snow that. The bar caught your eye, silver panels lining the wall behind it in an otherwise jet-black glossy room, with dark red couches and shiny tables, booths, single chairs, a stage with shiny metal poles, and a few cordoned-off alcoves.

You took it all in, certain you’d be able to appreciate the aesthetics of it more if it wasn’t for the seething rage inside you. You were stopped at a closed door near the back, and the burly man knocked.

“Yeah.” Came a voice from inside.

“All yours. He’ll take care of you.” Your guide stepped away. You pushed at the door.

A dark-haired man sat facing a desk, poring over paperwork. He didn’t look up.

“If you’re here for a job, sweetie, it’s Tuesday after 11.”

This incensed you.

“I’m not here for work. This is official business. I was told you take care of… special clients.”

He spun around, frowning.

“I’m listening.”

“I have a message from President Snow. He has a series of requests to be carried out with no delay.”

“Ah, yes. Mr Snow. I see. And you are to him?” He prompted.

“Just a maid from the household. He sent me as a messenger.”

“Excellent. Well in that case, of course, miss. How can I be of service?”

You took a breath, hoping desperately that he didn’t see right through you.

“Firstly, the shoes your girl wore.”

“What would he like with them?” He asked.

“He’d like to keep them. He’s willing to pay, and he’s not up for a price negotiation. This should cover them.” You slipped a bill across the table, and he nodded. You learned long ago that money causes loose lips, and this man was no exception.

“Of course,” he obliged, “They’re in the lockers through that door there. I’ll bring them to you. We ordered them in specially for Veronica, he made a point for her to wear them on the first floor. Usually our girls get instructions to sneak through clients’ houses quietly, but we handle every request as thoroughly as possible.” He chuckled.

That fucker. He really had planned it all out to get in your head.

“Was there anything else I can do for you, miss?”

You swallowed thickly.

Here goes.

“Yes, actually. As of today, he’ll no longer be needing your services, or her services. He’d like to terminate your contract, and he doesn’t wish to see her again. Ever.”

The owner blinked. His mouth moved, as if he was about to say something, but then it closed again.

“But, um,” he stammered, “It’s only been three weeks. Veronica is our best girl, and he’s her top client. She carried out his orders to the absolute best of her ability, I can assure you. Are you sure those were his words?”

You sighed.

“She’s getting off lucky with a dismissal. Take it as a warning, sir. President Snow doesn’t show mercy to thieves. If she shows her face again, I can guarantee you, he’ll have her head.”

His face turned plum-red with horror.

“She was… stealing?”

In a way, yes.

“She was caught by a maid last night.” You nodded, and the owner swallowed thickly.

“I – I understand, Miss. I am terribly sorry for this. I apologise that our services weren’t up to your master’s expectations, truly. Please, if there’s anything I can do- and I can assure you, I’ll be having some very stern words-”

You cut him off.

“There is one more thing, as a matter of fact."

"Anything." He pleaded.

"You can send word that… Veronica, is it? She’ll be paying him a visit this evening. But you are not, under any circumstances, to send her. Am I understood?”

He furrowed his brows, puzzled. But you stared back challengingly and held your ground.

A small, sheepish smile formed on his face.

“Much obliged. I can assure you your requests will be carried out with the utmost discretion.”

“Thank you.”

He brought you the heels in a shiny box, and you turned and left.

Henry was waiting outside, and you slid back into the car.

“Get what you needed, ma’am?”

“I certainly did.”

The drive home was your chance to pick up lunch, finetune your plan, and go through the suits you’d had Henry pick up from the tailor.

They looked impeccable – crisp and creaseless, the white shirts brighter than the stars, and the maroon red jackets and waistcoats deeper than blood itself. It was one of these jackets that you chose to take upstairs with you, leaving the rest to be taken up to Snow’s room later, hoping the missing item would go unnoticed.

You retraced your way up the winding stairs of the manor. Luckily, Lucille had informed you Snow had left not long after you that morning, and was expected to be gone until evening. Nonetheless, your paranoia made you glance left, right and left again before every turn. Finally, after an exhaustingly long morning, you were back in the safety of your own room.

But the work was far from finished. You ate quickly, then began getting ready for your discussion with Snow. He hadn’t sent for you again; he was too proud. You took pride in knowing he’d be positively seething at your turning him down that morning. You kept going, showering, teasing your hair, adding a little more makeup than usual – not excessive, but enough to make a difference – then finally wandered the room as you picked your wardrobe for later.

You lay out the heels – which were a little big on you, but would serve their purpose – as well as the jacket you’d stolen, taking the time to run your fingers over the smooth maroon velvet you’d felt only briefly before, when brushing against Snow at public events. You then dug through your underwear drawer, debating between a red lingerie set and a white. You picked the latter; the tones of red would blend in with the jacket and white made more of a statement.

Innocence. If only.

You checked the time. Three hours or so until Coriolanus would be expecting Veronica. You hoped that he would be back by then, and more so, that your performance with the brothel owner had been enough to hold him to his promise of sending word. But if you’d learnt anything from Snow, it was that fear commanded respect, and better yet, obedience. So your doubts were few and far between.

In all honesty, that’s what had drawn you to Snow in the first place. It wasn’t about money; your family had money, more than they knew what to do with. It was the power, the fear. Even the richest man in the world would crumble to the ground with a gun to his head. Power trumps wealth every time, and the enigmatic, newly elected President was by far the most powerful man in Panem.

It was its own kind of thrill, pursuing a man like that. The temptation to get him wrapped around your fingers, ravenous, hungry for power, hungry for him. It all blurred together at this point, the man was like a magnet. You wondered if this thirst for more, always more, was an affliction the two of you shared. Or perhaps, an affliction you’d developed a taste for because of him. And the longer you spent at his side, the louder it began to beat in your chest like a second heart. You wanted to consume it, and let it consume you.

It thrummed in your chest now, adrenaline coursing in your veins. You fidgeted as you waited for the hours to pass, your craving growing with each second. You flicked through a few books; you drafted a letter to your mother. Each tick of the clock bringing you closer to finally taking the one thing you’d wanted since the day you met Coriolanus Snow. It was almost time for your big move.

✩✩✩✩

As enough darkness crept into your room and you stood to light some candles, you heard soft footsteps pass your door.

For a change, you recognised them as Snow’s, even and deliberate. He was home. With half an hour to spare until he’d be expecting his whore.

You jumped at the opportunity to change. Slowly and carefully, you slipped out of your clothes and into the underwear set, until you were clad in crisp white lace, with a matching garter belt as a finishing touch. You slid on Snow’s jacket – which smelled like him, of his cologne – the usual fitted shape it would give Snow now hanging loose and slack around your body, falling to the tops of your thighs. You did up the first button, tracing the neckline that plunged down your chest, leaving very little to the imagination. You slipped into the heels, checked the time, and after scanning yourself over in the mirror, made for the door.

The few worries you had about being seen by the staff were short-lived; the hallway lights were dim as you wobbled in the heels, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. You weren’t sure if Snow had fallen for your plan, but what mattered was that as you turned the corner, there were lights shining from under his bedroom door. He was in there, waiting. By now, it was odd seeing it closed. You tried your best to emulate the sound of the footsteps you’d drilled into your brain, the clicks giving you a sense of power knowing Snow – apprehensive or not – would be in for at least one surprise.

Click. Click. Click.

You considered pausing before barging in, but you didn’t. When you reached the end of the hallway, seconds away from your fate, you reached out a hand, pushed Snow’s door open, and walked right inside.

Snow was there; of course he was. Facing his dresser and away from you, he didn’t flinch at the sound of your arrival. You closed the door behind you, and took a step towards him. Stared at his back, scanning his black dress pants and the white shirt he’d rolled up to his elbows, cufflinks on the table, blonde curls a little unruly as he smoothly poured himself a drink.

This, right here, was where the solid part of your plan ended. It was caution to the wind from here on out, and you could practically taste it, high off the adrenaline; off his presence. And he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

This was the moment of truth.

“Well,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Look who finally figured it out.”

“Not who you were expecting?”

“She’d never reschedule.” he said simply, turning on his heels, eyes glinting at you. “Figured you were up to something. Drink?”

“Think I’ll pass.”

He approached you, eyes scanning your body, deliberately clad in the skimpiest underwear you owned. You figured this was as good a time as any to unbutton the jacket and let it fall open. It brushed your sides, and you watched him lower his glance, hungrily taking you in for what could quite possibly be the very first time. He wet his lips, took another sip.

There it is.

There was that power you craved, that look that you’d been aching to see in his eyes while he stared at you, and although it was fucked up, you let the pride fill your head with confidence, and stepped forward.

“Now, just where did you get that?” A slight narrowing of his eyes gave him away. At least something you’d done had made an impression.

“Borrowed it. In case I get cold.” You smiled.

“Cute. Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to take things that aren’t yours?”

“Oh, I take whatever I want, Snow.”

You raised your head in defiance. Proud of your voice for not faltering once.

“Clearly. Nice shoes. Borrow those, too?”

“Why, do they look familiar?” you quipped.

“I think we both know the answer to that, doll. Now why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

You sighed, feigning exasperation. A chill crept up your legs but you barely noticed.

“You wanted to talk to me, Coriolanus. Talk.”

“Is that really what you came here for, sweetheart? Dressed like that?” He put his drink down on the dresser, not once looking away from you.

“If this is what it takes to get your attention, Snow, then yes.”

You took another step closer, and the jacket fell further to your sides, more skin slipping out from underneath for him to feast his eyes on.

“I think you know plenty about trying to get my attention. I watched you struggle for weeks.”

“Didn’t think you cared.” You muttered.

He laughed, low, more like a scoff.

“What, your childish attempts at seduction? They were pitiful at best. I’d expect that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady of your standing.”

“Thought you liked whores.” You retorted.

“They’re no fun to live with. And there you were, proving my point.”

Your eyes narrowed, and when you spoke, it was through gritted teeth.

“So what, you had to go and fuck one to prove a point? Mature.”

“Mature?” he glowered, then before you could think, he stormed towards you, grabbing both of your wrists with a hard squeeze. You gasped.

“Mature like you, with your short skirts and your fuck-me eyes, sucking your fingers off at the breakfast table?”

You squirmed. Tried to jolt yourself away but it was no use.

“I didn’t think you-”

��Oh, I noticed.” He said, moving in to corner you, grip tightening until he was walking you backwards across the room as he spoke, never once taking his eyes off you. “And it’s a real shame this couldn’t have been easier for us both, but you just had to start it. So I watched your pathetic little displays, day after day, knowing if you’d behaved better, I would’ve given you exactly what you wanted.”

You fought not to trip over yourself until your legs bumped against the ottoman at the foot of his bed and you caught your breath. His eyes bored into yours and you blinked helplessly. His grip loosened on your wrists. You tried to speak, but your mouth had gone dry.

“If you’d been good,” he continued, voice lowering, “you wouldn’t have played around like that. Good girls don’t whore themselves out to respectable men.”

Your eyes narrowed in defiance as you felt heat start to brew in your stomach.

“Respectable?” You spat, and his grip tightened again, bringing one hand up to trace your jaw, almost pitifully.

“See what I mean? You dig yourself deeper at every turn. Good girls ask nicely, and say please. It didn’t take me long to figure out you had issues with authority. It could’ve been so easy for you, sweetheart. You had plenty of chances. You could’ve asked me very nicely to fuck you, but instead you behaved like a desperate slut for weeks on end. Eventually, I knew there was only one way to shut you up.”

Your ears started to ring and you fought harder to gain composure. He’d never talked to you like this before. And now, all this, all at once, it was almost too much. Goosebumps had long covered your arms and legs, despite the heat inside you burning you up. You were vaguely aware of heat pooling uncomfortably between your legs.

Your breathing was heavy as you stared into him, his hand gripping your chin, and you couldn’t hide it if you tried. He finally backed away, letting you peel yourself from the ottoman. His hungry eyes scanned over you, suit jacket now crumpled at the wrists. You swallowed as you tried to pull yourself together.

“You knew I was watching you. The whole time. Every time. It was… for me.”

He watched you knowingly, raised his eyebrows a little. His lips grew into that smirk, that fucking smirk you knew all too well.

“We were playing the same game, sweetheart. I was just… Better.”

“A little excessive, don’t you think?” Your voice faltered and you cursed how breathy it sounded.

“Oh, on the contrary. It was very entertaining to see you struggle, but I could’ve gone further.” He mused. “I even considered fucking her on your bed.”

Shit.

A thought popped into your head, and a strange smile made its way to your face.

“Aren’t you going to ask me where I got these?” You asked, glancing down.

He frowned for a second; good. You’d thrown him off guard. But he caught up fast.

“The heels? You know, I had her walk right past your door in those so you’d follow her and see just what you were missing?”

If you weren’t so wired with adrenaline, you were pretty sure you’d be tearing up with how desperate you felt. But his words channelled it all into pure anger.

“Fuck you.” You seethed, and he smiled.

“We'll get to that. But go on, I’ll bite. What did you do to her?”

“Let’s just say she deserved much worse than what she got. Maybe you should’ve fucked her on my bed. Would’ve given me a reason to choke the life out of her.”

“You think I’d care?”

“Course not. Knowing you, it’d probably get you off.”

“Which brings us right back to now.” He stared at you, challenging. You laughed again.

“Is this you talking? You’re not very good at it.”

“No, this is me giving you a second chance. The way I see it, you made your move, I made mine. Now, if you’re a good girl, and ask me very nicely to fuck you until that pretty little head of yours gets filled with nothing but empty space, I might consider putting an end to this and giving you what you want. Maybe.” If you thought you’d survive smacking that smug look off his face, you would.

“You want me to ask nicely, Coriolanus?” You closed the gap between the two of you and glanced up at him through your lashes. He looked back at you, and no chill in the world could cool you down from the fire in his eyes.

He stepped away, paced towards the desk chair – the one he’d watched you from last night – then dragged it across the floor, spun it around, and took a seat. Once again, last night felt worlds away now. A lifetime sat between that moment and this one as he made himself comfortable, unbuttoned his collar. As if the room was now a stage, and he was the sole spectator.

“Go on. I’m waiting.”

Cocky bastard.

Another airy laugh escaped you. But you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t exactly where you wanted him. So you played into it.

“You want me to beg you? Say pretty please?” Your voice softened as you slowly stepped towards him, holding his gaze. A passing thought reminded you of your childhood, asking your mother what you’d feel when you first truly fell for someone.

Fireworks. Thousands of them, crackling, hissing, charging the air between the two of you into something heavy. Thick clouds of smoke you could almost taste as you stared into darkened eyes. You paused in front of him, fingers playing with the hem of his suit jacket that brushed against your thighs. Caught your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Take it off.” He ordered.

“Gladly.”

You slipped the jacket off your shoulders, and it fell smoothly into a pile on the floor. You kicked off the heels next, landing haphazardly to the side with a thump. His eyes never leaving you, consuming you.

“Like what you see, Snow?”

He took you in, long and hungry and shameless. Like you were simply there for his entertainment, nothing else. You wondered where along the line he’d lost all his inhibitions, at what moment in his very young life he’d decided to simply stop caring. It should scare you, but it just made you burn warmer. Maybe your wires were a little crossed, too, because it didn’t make you feel cheap.

It made you feel powerful.

You knew you looked good, too; you’d made sure of it. But he was looking at you like you were carved out of solid gold. He didn’t answer, because he didn’t need to.

“Think I like you better when you’re not acting like a dumb slut.”

You hummed, determined and unphased, moving in closer until your legs touched his knees. His words shouldn’t turn you on - nor should not knowing exactly how much he meant them – but they did.

“You like me better when I’m begging, then?” You placed your legs either side of his, straddling him, but still standing, and took his hands in yours. You ran one of them across your lips, brazenly taking a digit in your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop, then dropping your head down.

“You want me to be straightforward, Snow? Tell you exactly what I want?” you breathed, your foreheads almost touching, looking down at him from a thrilling vantage point, your hair falling either side of his face. “To beg you to rip this off me?” You guided his hands to your hips, letting them slide over the lacy fabric. “You want me to beg you to kiss every inch of skin you see and make it yours? Beg you to fuck me until I can’t think, and forget my own name?”

You ran his hands down the sides of your legs, then, inch by inch, letting him take a good long look on the way, you finally lowered yourself onto his lap. Your blown-out eyes met again, at the same level this time. You shifted your hips once, feigning getting comfortable, and hid a smile as he let out a strained sound.

You were close enough to feel his breath against yours, fast but steady, controlled. You moved closer, your head dipping cautiously under his chin to kiss his neck. He smelt clean, like fresh laundry and his cologne, and his skin tasted like salt as your tongue traced a line across it. It felt like power, having him like this. Slowly starting to grind your hips as your mouth pressed against his pulse, every shaky breath you elicited from him awakening something new in you.

“Say it, Snow.” You murmured, breath catching. “Tell me you want me to beg you, and be good for you.” Another trail of messy kisses across his jaw, and you finally heard it, ragged and coarse, words shooting through you like knives softened by the heat of his breath on your hair.

“Be a good girl, and fucking beg me.”

You hummed with satisfaction. Moved your lips to his ear, hand cupping the back of his neck, and leaned in close.

“If you wanted me to be good,” you whispered, “then you’ve picked the wrong girl.”

You felt it, his whole body tensing beneath you. But you had it now, the upper hand, and you weren’t giving it away. Your other hand came up to close over his mouth with a warning shake of the head, and you gripped the back of his neck harder with the first. Craned it backwards so he could look at you, a different kind of fire in his eyes. A fire that could burn you far worse than any other. You leaned your weight into him until you were flush, skin pressing into fabric. Tightening your legs around his so he couldn’t kick out. You felt dangerous. You felt alive.

When you spoke, your voice was a vial of vitriol.

“You thought I’d just give into you? Three weeks of torture and you call it even? No fucking way, Snow. You wanted to play? Let’s play.”

You were closer to him now than you’d ever been before, infinitely closer than when you’d held hands in front of an audience, or danced in the middle of a ballroom, or when he’d draw you in for a lingering kiss at the head of a busy table.

You were closer still because of the common denominator: you were alone, your bodies pressed together, soft and firm colliding. And your stomach ached with want, but your rage burned brighter.

When you were sure he wouldn’t move, you readjusted your position on his lap so you were sat on one thigh, your right knee pressed firmly against the chair between his legs. Slowly, you dragged your hips against it, firm muscle between your legs, shameless as you stared him down.

“I’d like to modify the terms of our agreement, as of tonight. Starting with this: I’ve made sure your little whore won’t come running back here. If I so much as hear a whisper of a rumor that you’re fucking someone else, I’m leaving. Don’t think I don’t know how to disappear. I can, and I will.”

He scowled at you, and you’d never felt power like the rush you got from seeing your hand clamped over his mouth. His own hands, now easily able to overpower you and push yours away, instead sat at your hips, digging in so hard you knew there’d be bruises for weeks. As you moved, he started to follow suit, rocking your hips on his thigh faster.

He’s allowing this.

The realisation made you pull your hand from his mouth, and yet he didn’t speak. There was a tightness in his jaw, locked down so hard it must’ve hurt as he watched you move, helped you move. It sent a shock through your core, and you ground down harder.

Who’s on top now?

This was getting to your head.

“President Snow,” you mocked. “What a title. Thinks he can take whatever’s in his sight. Thinks he has the right. Did you think I’d come crawling back to you?” Your voice lowered.

“Did you think I’d get on my knees, like she did?” You glanced down, running your now-free hand over the front of his pants, gentle at first, then pressing in firm, and he hissed.

“Did you really think, after all your little shows, that I’d just submit? Not a chance.” You spat, and his breath turned a little shaky as your hand slid up, then down.

As it evened out, and he reached for composure again, he pulled a countermove. Got in close, with words so sharp, they nearly cut through you.

“Which one was your favorite?”

You pulled your hand away. Your hold on the back of his neck tightened, and in turn, so did his grip on your hips, pulling you down harder as you got closer, panties bunching up as you became desperate.

You shook your head.

“Don’t.”

He smirked.

“I gave you plenty to go off. Tell me, was it when I sat right here while she rode me? Or when I was fucking her mouth and calling your name?”

He pulled your hips in rougher, and you gasped, barely able to think. You were sure if he kept this up, your thighs would chafe. You just couldn’t find it in you to care.

“No, I don’t think so.” He hummed. “I know which one it was. It was the second time, wasn’t it? When I was making her cum all over my tongue, wondering what you tasted like.”

You couldn’t help it – a moan slipped out of your lips. He kept up the pace, rolling your hips faster, flexing his thigh as you started losing your bearings. He laughed at the state of you.

“I knew that one would get to you. Tell me something, princess, how many times did you touch yourself after that night wishing it was me? Or did you lose count?”

You gritted your teeth, fighting the spinning room.

“Cocky much?”

He let out a breathy laugh again, as if he was losing himself as much as you were. Pulling you in harder in response.

“Look at you,” he mused, “riding my thigh like the needy slut you are. Bet you’re close, too, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Fuck.” you panted. “Stop fucking talking, oh my god.”

“You sure about that, sweetheart? You know I can feel how wet it’s making you, right?”

Your head dropped down and you whined. Sure enough, you’d soaked through your panties and dripped an embarrassing wet patch on his dress pants. You cursed under your breath as you slowed down.

“Beg me.” He ordered.

“No.” You gasped as he pulled you back again, faster, hips bucking as your legs started to shake around his.

“Beg me,” he repeated, "or I’ll stop.”

“Fuck, no, don’t fucking stop, I can’t-”

It was so much friction it hurt, but you kept chasing it.

“Yes, you can. You want to cum? Ask nicely, sweetheart. Just ask me.”

The seam of your panties got wetter as you moved, just enough to let the pain melt into pleasure instead as it caught on your clit, and you started to ride out your high. You were right at the edge, he was keeping you there, hair stuck to your face in a hot sweat as you writhed on his lap. So fucking close.

“Fine, shit. Please. Please help me cum, oh my god. Right there, please. Fuck.”

And maybe you were more like him than you thought, because you weren’t ashamed. You rode his thigh like you’d ride him, unabashedly, while he watched you starting to fall apart. He moved faster, pulled your hips hard in as if you were riding him, as if he could feel it, breath running ragged, desperate. It only brought you closer knowing this would be sending him over the edge, holding you so near and yet so awfully far away. The look in his eyes screaming danger, and you let it swallow you whole, squeezing his shoulders like you were scared you’d float away.

"That's it. Knew you'd sound incredible, asking me all pretty like that."

His lips met your neck, teeth grazing your skin and that’s what did it, your legs squeezing his as you shook through your orgasm, crying out, falling to pieces, hearing going fuzzy. The words good girl echoing through your head so distantly, you couldn’t tell if he’d really said them or not.

You sighed, glazed eyes rolling open, coming back to yourself. Your right hand was pressed against his chest, fingers curled into the creased fabric of his shirt. As you looked closer, you noticed it had opened wider, and he was missing a button. Had you done that?

When your eyes finally met Snow’s, you couldn’t look away from them. Beautiful and blue, like an ocean frozen over, staring into yours like you were all he’d ever wanted. You could get high off this feeling, live off it.

“Get on the bed.” He breathed. “Right fucking now.”

But too much of any feeling isn’t good for you.

“No.”

He glowered, face flushing even further, and as he leaned in to make another demand, you quickly stood, trying your hardest not to let your wobbling legs give you away.

“You should understand, Snow. We’re doing things my way now. And I’m going to be doing them as I please, when I please.”

You picked his jacket up from the floor, and slipped back into it, the soft fabric cooling down your burning skin.

“You think you’re funny, sweetheart? Nobody likes a fucking tease.”

You chuckled, doing up a button and brushing your hair out of your face, damp with sweat. You walked to the dresser and took a swig from Snow’s half-empty glass, then turned. He sat there, and it took everything in you not to smirk at the mess you’d made of him. You handed him the glass when you were done drinking and turned away. You felt him stand, but you didn’t acknowledge it, still fiddling with your hair, smoothing it out.

“You said it yourself, Snow. I’m no common whore. If you want me to beg you to fuck me, you’re gonna have to work for it.” You turned, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. His face was unreadable.

“But be a doll, leave your door unlocked.” You added, stepping back. “You never know when I might change my mind.”

“You’re not going to leave. You wouldn’t dare.” He seethed, the rage in his voice only propelling you on.

“Wouldn’t I?” You smiled, giving him a once over. Dropped your eyes down pointedly, first at the ruined leg you’d ridden, then at the uncomfortable-looking tent in his pants. You met his eye again and bit your lip, really laying it on thick. “Good luck with that, sweetheart. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

He huffed, incredulous, disbelief painted across his face as you made for the door, swinging it open. You glanced over your shoulder.

“Buckle up, Snow. I’m just getting started.”

You missed the way his shocked face turned almost admiring as he watched you leave, walking barefoot down the hallway, leaving the door wide open.

Checkmate.

a/n: hope it was worth the wait 😌

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#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #snow x reader #snow x you #tom blyth #tbosas #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #attention

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mistyresolve · 2 years ago

Text

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 1)

Word Count - 3k

Summary - Doc (y/n) is a medic at a base camp when they meet Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley, when they meet for a second time it is because he’s been injured. During the two weeks it takes him to fully recover they develop an unspoken friendship. Simon’s next assignment is to escort a convoy across enemy lines, which would have been a walk in the park if they weren’t a part of that convoy. Even worse is when his worries and fears become real.

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Trauma, Opioids (they’re prescribed but i just want to add this in case), Slow Burn, Eventual Smut

A/N - im working on part 2 rn but it may take a little time for me to finish and upload but im in the middle of finals and have been busy with studying so please forgive me

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The first time Ghost came through your tent he was bringing in his comrade, Soap, for medical attention. It was a gunshot to the arm but nothing detrimental. A clean shot and the bullet had gone right through.

Ghost had remained quiet and observant but answered any questions you had about the wound.

“When did this happen?”

“Half an hour ago. Give or take.”

“Any meds?”

“Shot of adrenalin.”

You had sewen up the gunshot and nursed Soap back to health. However, Mr.MacTavish had been a difficult patient and after a week you discharged him early just to get him out of your hair. On multiple occasions you caught him trying to escape, claiming he was fine and ready for combat at least once a day. Most special ops were deluded like that, most thought they were superhumans. In a way, they kind of were with the speed at which they recovered. You would never tell them that. It would just go to their head.

Your tent has since been upgraded to a deployable field hospital. With a total of 50 beds and 15 staff members.

The second time Ghost made his way your way was on a stretcher. It was a deep and disturbing stab wound to his side, and if it were even an inch deeper it would have punctured his lung. It took you the whole two weeks he needed for recovery to get the full story out of him. Apparently, it was a series of unfortunate events which resulted in a hand-to-hand scrabble. He’d dominated his opponent and came out victorious but not without injury. He’d been all on his own for hours before finally making it to Exfil. In those few hours, he lost a lot of blood and was without any sort of analgesic until he was in the helicopter on his way here. Whatever the field medic had given him for the pain was enough to completely incapacitate the beast of a man. All the same, it was doing its job and controlling the pain. Your team had to do an emergency surgery at the base camp because he wasn’t stable enough for a medivac to a major hospital.

The man was in a foul mood when he awoke the next day. He wasn’t rude and uncivilized, but he made it clear the last place he wanted to be was bedbound in a field hospital. When it was mentioned he was going to be sent back home for recovery, he downright refused.

Strangely enough, it was also the first time you saw his entire face. When he first came in you were so amped on adrenalin and stressed that you didn’t register that his mask had been removed. It was immediately established that no other personnel apart from the small 3-man team already working on him would be allowed to interact with him to ensure his identity remained confidential. It was more for their safety than his if everyone was being candid. Even in his charts any identifiers were redacted and replaced with “John Doe”.

Two days post-op he insisted he be relocated to his barracks because he “could handle his own”. You compromised and told him you’d allow it under the one condition that he lets you come and check on him at least once a day. He did, but he didn’t exactly have a choice either because you would have shown up anyway.

That was where you were right now.

You knocked and waited for a response before letting yourself in, your supplies and kit in hand. It was just after noon when you arrived. You scanned his room. It was clean, almost barren. His blinds were half open, and the window cracked to let in the cool, fresh air. The clothes he was wearing when he came wounded were still in the biohazard bag we gave him when he left. The tray of food on the desk beside his bed was left untouched, and judging by the food variety it was from breakfast.

Upon hearing your arrival Ghost had forced himself into a sitting position. His face flushed with the change of position. His dark eyes were rimmed red from a lack of sleep, and his facial hair was growing. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants with the insignia of his old company and a plain black shirt. The shirt was loose and thin, but it did nothing to hide the muscle hiding underneath.

You rolled your eyes, blew out a breath, tossed your bag onto the bed beside him and pulled out the rolling chair at his desk to sit in front of him.

“You look like shit,” you knocked his elbow in a silent demand to lift his arm.

He grimaced but did it without complaint, “Ya, well I feel like shit.”

You lifted his shirt to get a look at the bandage underneath. There wasn’t any shadowing or blood seeping through so you gave him a quick nod before dropping the shirt, “Have you taken anything?”

He jerked his chin to the little orange bottle on his desk, “One of those.”

You picked it up to read the label, Oxycodone 10 mg OD.

“Nice, but you should be taking it with food,” you tilted your head in the direction of the untouched food. He merely shrugged, his eyes weary. His eyes turned the same golden brown of a whiskey glass in the sunlight.

You discreetly took his respiratory rate before moving on, “Any side effects? Nausea? Headache? Upset stomach?”

“Nope,” he said in exasperation. He leaned back onto his elbows, his long body stretching out across the width of the bed with his legs still hung over the side in preparation for you to change his dressings.

You gave him an unimpressed look, before pointing to the garbage bin he had at his bedside. There wasn’t anything in it but it was placed here in preparation, “If you aren’t going to be compliant I’m going to bring you back to the infirmary.”

“It came and went already. I’m fine,” he moved to lift his shirt, hinting at you to hurry up get the dressing change done and leave.

You scooted the chair closer, preparing your materials and supplies on his bedside table. When you removed the bandage and revealed the stitches you clicked your tongue, he hadn’t pulled any of them but the fact that it was still bleeding made it apparent he’d been more active than he should have been.

“How’s it lookin’ down there, Doc?” He rolled, his gaze following your movements with predatory grace. You glowered at the nickname.

You hummed, “Mhm.” and started cleansing the wound with saline before donning gloves and cleaning it more thoroughly. He hissed at the contact and you looked up, he had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. His body tensed, and his muscles taut. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive. Alluring even. Especially when he was in this position, and had that look on his face.

“Are you going to survive?” You asked pulling back slightly.

“Just cold s’all.”

He made it through the rest of the dressing change without so much as a flinch. In fact, he might have fallen asleep near the end for a second. He didn’t open his eyes until you finished securing the gauze with the last piece of tape. His lids were heavy and his mouth was pulled down into a slight frown.

“You going to eat lunch?” you tugged off your gloves and threw them into the bin beside you.

He nodded sluggishly and laid back on the bed, folding his hands over his abdomen. Maybe the Oxycodone was making him drowsy, but he looked like he desperately needed rest.

“Did you sleep well last night?” You rolled back on the chair, giving him space. He shook his head. You quickly finished cleaning up any remaining supplies or trash before filling out his chart, “Maybe if you didn’t keep reopening your wound you’d be healing faster and sleep better.”

He replied with a quiet, almost boyish chuckle, “I’ve been behaving, don’t worry.”

“You’ve been nothing but extra paperwork,” you retort, tapping his leg with your foot. You stood with a snap of your notebook. “What do you want to drink with your lunch?”

“Just water,” his eyes remained closed and you made your way for the door, bringing his cold breakfast with you.

You returned with a new tray of food, this time you picked foods that would be easy on the stomach. The damn fool must have smelt it as you walked down the hall with it because before you could knock he was opening the door and stepping aside to let you in.

“Such a gentleman,” you tapped his shoulder as you passed.

He seemed to perk up at the brief contact, “As always.”

You placed his tray on the table before picking up your bag to get ready to leave for the day, “Any last request?” When you turned to face him your cheeks heated at the way he regarded you. His face softened, melting into something akin to respect. He was so expressive and you didn’t think he was aware. Perhaps it was because he had grown accustomed to the protection of his mask. You almost didn’t wait for his answer before taking your leave, making an excuse that you needed to report back. You did, but it wasn’t anything urgent, you just needed to get out of his room. Away from him. If only to remember how to breathe.

The process for the following two weeks was the same, only each day you stayed a little longer. You talked a little more. Despite his reputation, he was… normal. He was a little aloof and standoffish at times, and horribly, criminally unfunny, but he grew on you. You were slightly upset and maybe even a little scared you’d never see him again when you officially discharged him. Even worse, you were scared to see him again. Only, every time he returned from a mission he would come to pay you a visit. You might have considered calling him a friend. Might have considered wanting more from him.

Soap would sometimes occupy Simon, having made a connection with you of his own. A different type of connection, but a wholesome one. Soap had made a jest about just recruiting you as the 141’s personal field medic instead of bothering you at work every other week. Simon had shot the idea down like water on a fire, and the topic was never brought up again. He simply stated, “Never letting that happen.”

He had his reservations about you entering an active warzone, let alone going on assignments with a squad like the 141. He’s never outright said it but he developed a soft spot for you. Over the months he had unintentionally carved a hole in his chest just for you; a place where he could protect and watch over you. His fondness for you only made it all the harder when he received the 141’s next assignment. It was a regular convoy escort but he felt sick when he read your name on the list. He even went so far as to double-check the itinerary with Captain Price. Went so far as to try and get you removed from the assignment. When you learnt of what he was doing you cornered him and chewed his head off. You understood his trepidations and his actions, but both of you knew he was out of line when he tried getting you booted from the mission.

The convoy, mainly consisting of medical personnel, equipment, and supplies, would be moving right through enemy lines to get from your current base to a new one a few towns over. It would be dangerous, you weren’t naive, but you were your own person. You were simmering, but you couldn’t help the twinge of regret for yelling at him.

In the days leading up to the mission Simon had grown distant, but remained watchful of you. He kept quiet, but you could see it in the shadow of his eyes, and in the muscles between his shoulders that he had a lot to say.

There was a total of 5 medical personnel that were being transported, yourself included. You would be a vehicle with Butters, who was elected as the head medic for the new base, and your driver was going to be none other than Captain Price.

As everyone was preparing to leave and loading up the last supplies, you caught Price and Simon in a quiet conversation, you couldn’t hear their exchange but you could tell it was heated. Price rolled back on his feet, fixing Simon with a tight-lipped smile before shaking his head. With that Simon backed away from him, pointed a finger at him saying one last thing before he turned and stalked towards the vehicle he would be in, obviously unsatisfied with Prices’ response.

Butters sidled up next to you, his pack slung over his arm and offering you yours in his other hand, “There has been a slight change of plans,” he sighed, “Our voyage is now split into two days, we'll be staying overnight in a town in between. Our route hasn’t been completely cleared yet.”

You turned your attention to him, your brows furrowing, “So they want us to have a sleepover behind enemy lines?” You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

Butters shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the turn of events. Butters always seemed to keep his thoughts and feelings close to his chest, but it was clear very little invoked thoughts and emotions out of him. He enlisted when he was 18 years old; he was 32 now with a wife, 3 kids, and another on the way. There was a high probability he would be asking for leave in the next couple of months so he could be there for his next child's birth. It sucked because he was the only other medic you were close with. You’d miss him.

Butters and you jumped into the back seats of one car with Price, you’d be in the middle of the convoy, Ghost, Soap, and another medic in the other would take the rear, and Gaz and Roach would be in another vehicle at the front. There was also a total of five transport trucks. The convoy would be a giant target as we passed through, which is why the 141 was tasked with our protection.

Price explained that the ride would be slow-moving and briefed the two of you on what to expect. He instructed you both to stay alert and that there was a chance of running into a hostile.

The first couple hours were incredibly boring, but Butters alleviated some of it by tasking you with going over the manifestation of everything you guys were hauling with you. You also made conversation with Price about his last leave, he had returned home and “sat on the patio and smoked cigars” for two weeks.

The sound was louder than anything you ever experienced in your life. You didn’t even have time to scream before the force of the detonation knocked you unconscious.

It couldn’t have been longer than a couple of minutes when you finally regained consciousness. The vehicle was now completely upside down, the wheels still spinning as they faced the sky. The seatbelt was the only thing keeping you from landing face-first into shattered glass and rubble.

In front of you, Price was already pulling himself out the window and onto the street. He looked back into the cab and for you and said something.

Nothing was processing right. Not his words. Not your thoughts. Not the sight before you. Everything was foggy, as if it was a dream.

Price reached back for you, bracing you with an arm before releasing your seatbelt. Your knees cracked as they hit the roof, the glass ripping through your uniform. The pain didn’t even register. Price hauled you out with him before going back in for Butters.

Only he didn’t.

Instead, he returned with his gun. Before he could stop you, you crawled back in for Butters to get him yourself.

You froze. There was no saving him. There was almost nothing left.

He was on the same side the anti-vehicle mine went off.

You slowly backed out, shaking your head not believing your own eyes.

Price was crouched beside you, his back to the vehicle, his eyes revealed no emotion.

You looked back down the road you had just come down and the transport truck that was tailing you had stopped before entering the intersection. Beside them was the truck that Ghost and Soap were in. Ghost was jumping out, his gun drawn. Soap slid from the passenger seat to the driver's side. The medic they were escorting jumped out the back and ran for the transport truck.

It was then you noticed that Price was shooting at something down the intersection. You could see the flash as the bullets left the barrel and smell the gunpowder, but you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t hear anything.

You brushed your fingers to your ear and when you looked at them they came away red. Blood.

The sheer force of the blast ruptured your eardrums.

You watched as Ghost applied suppressing fire and sidestepped in time with the truck as Soap rolled it into the intersection.

Price looked over his shoulder at you, his mouth moving. You could see it in his eyes the moment he connected the dots and caught that you couldn’t hear he turned to Ghost. Who jerked his head towards you and met your gaze. His eyes were wide, panicked. He ditched the cover of the truck and sprinted over while Price took over the covering fire. He slid into you, his gloved finger coming up to grab the sides of your face. He was gentle but urgent as he turned your head from side to side to inspect the damage.

You caught your reflection in one of the side mirrors, and couldn't recognize the person staring back at you. Their expression cataonic. Blood leaked out their ears, down their neck, and blood dripped out of their nose. Their teeth had gone through their bottom lip from the impact of the blast.

A low ringing began as sounds started to come back to you. Then it turned into an agonizing peal like you had stuck your head in a fire alarm. Ghost didn’t give you a chance to cover your ears because he was already pulling you into his chest, pressing one ear into his chest, and covering the other with his free hand. Using his remaining hand he raised his gun and pulled the trigger.

Soap pulled their truck up next to yours, making a barricade with them. He slid out, being careful to keep his head down and ready to join the fight.

Ghost started walking back towards the buildings behind, using his body to shield you from stray bullets. He smelt of gunpowder, sweat, and dust. He smelt familiar. His hard body against yours felt familiar. You felt the reverberation of his voice in his chest as he yelled something. You stumbled back with him as he moved, but he was practically carrying you at this point so you wouldn’t fall. His gun dangled at his hip. Soap was at the door to the nearest building, kicking the door open, the lock shattering.

The ringing in your ears was still present but you make out their muffled yelling as the rest of them filed in. Ghost sat you down at the far wall and behind rows of shelving units. Price and Soap guarded the entrance.

Price started talking into his radio, “Gaz! We got enemy fire coming from southwest of the fire hall. We’re down one and another has been wounded. We are fresh out of wheels, they planted fucking mines,” he yelled into his radio over the sound of oncoming and outgoing gunshots.

“We’re on our way,” Gaz’s voice replied through the Ghost radio that was attached to his shoulder.

Ghost then knelt back down in front of you and swore. His hands shook as he reached for a rectangular pack at his hip, a little red insignia printed on the front. A med-pack. He dumped its contents onto the floor, rummaging through it until he found what he was looking for.

He lifted your leg and started wrapping your thigh, but not before you saw what he was swearing at. There was a two-inch gash in your leg exposing raw flesh and muscle underneath.

“That’s not good,” you breathed. It felt like your throat was torn to shreds; as if you had inhaled the explosion itself.

“You’re fine,” he didn’t look up as he wrapped. It was tight enough that it hurt and you could feel your heartbeat crashing against the pressure. Despite that, the bandage wasn’t going to last.

You choked a laugh, “You might want to get out your, ‘I told you so’s’ while you still can,” You meant for it to come off as nonchalant but your voice quivered.

“You’re fine,” he repeated.

“I left a kit in the back seat,” You sucked in a sharp breath when he pulled the gauze one last time to tie a knot, “I don’t know if it survived though.”

Because it was right next to Butters before the mine tore through the side SUV he was on.

Before I could say another word, Ghost was moving towards the door. Requested for an update, then asked for covering fire before exiting the door. He returned moments later with the kit. When he brought it over he made sure to place it behind him so you couldn’t see the condition of it. You imagined it to be macabre.

As the adrenalin pumping through your body drained it began to tremble, cold rushing into your bones. Blood was already starting to dot the surface of the bandage.

“Powder,” You instructed Ghost. He moved fast, cutting the bandage away with the blade he pulled from its sheath at his thigh, and tearing open the packaging. It was a quick-clotting powder used to stop the bleeding.

You were no doubt in shock because you couldn’t feel the pain anymore. He rewrapped your leg; somehow, it was even tighter than before. You heard Gaz give an update over the radio, asking for more details and you could hear Price relaying the plan.

Your breaths became shallow and sedated, your strength ebbing away. You fought the urge to close your eyes in fear of never opening them again.

Ghost tapped a hand on your cheek, “Don’t be falling asleep on me, now Doc.”

You were barely able to ground out a “Sir, yes, sir,” before your chin hit the front of your chest and succumbed to the darkness pulling at you.

Part 2

Masterlist ❤︎

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #MW2 #mw2 x reader #cod ghost #cod x reader #cod fanfic #soap mctavish #captain price #MistyGhosties

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arwenadreamer · 6 months ago

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Jared is the most loving, caring person!

I've read it a thousand times online, but experiencing it in person puts it on anoher level!

Jared's schedule on Purcon 8 was merciless! (In fact, the whole schedule of Purcon was the one thing I have to criticise regarding this convention. Maybe I'll make another post about this.) For example on Sunday Jared had 15 Minutes of double photo (with Mark), then the J2 panel (30 Minutes) then M&G (30 Minutes) then photos 2,5 hours of photos (which run late, so it was close to three hours in the end), then a single panel (30 Minutes) without a single break. (There would have been a 20 minute break after the 2,5 hours of photos, but again, they were late.) Then he had half an hour break, before autos were from 16.25 to 18.25!

I don't know about US conventions, but at JiB there are more little breaks, and the photos, autos, etc. are in smaller patches. Like, 1 hour photos in the morning, then an hour of autos, then a panel, then photos again.

I don't think I could stand in a photo room and smile for 3 hours straight and give every fan the time of the day and a beautiful photo!

But Jared did! (And so did Jensen, btw.! Neither of them ever showing how tired they were. Or at least trying to hide it the best they could.)

So, @takikojou and I took our Jared photos on sunday. We were in line last, since we had the cheapest entrance tickets, which means Jared had taken pictures for nearly 2,5 hours. When we were in the photo room, we could clearly see how exhausted he was. Between pictures, his eyes drooped. Yet, he gave EVERY. SINGLE. FAN. his full attention. He made those 10 seconds special for everyone of nearly 2000 fans! One girl wanted to do a handholding pose with him and he squatted down (as he always does), but she asked him to stand tall please, which he did. And the whole room laughed. (This kind of good natured laugh.) So did Jared. He picked up the energy and still had fun. Then a man came and asked him to do the WOW fingers. Jared clearly loved that, they made a bit of fun about it. Jared clapped the fan on the back in parting and said "Loved that pose!". @takikojou had an amazing op, but that's her story to tell.

Then it was my turn. I wanted to do a drinking pose. He listened attentively (For some reason we were not allowed to show pictures on the phone of what we wanted, because they said it would take more time? I think it takes more time to explain, but oh well.) Then he did the pose and looked me dead in the eye. For my second photo I asked him to choose the pose. He said "I'll stand behind you", then turned me around and held me withe both arms around my shoulders. And then he pressed with so much strengh, held me sooooooooo tight! I grin like a lunatic on the pic, but who can blame me? I then turned halfway around to say "Thank you", before walking away, and he stroked my arm and said "Thank you, darling!"

The pictures turned out wonderful. And all of that after 2,5 hours of nonstop pictures! Not a single photo he took shows how tired he was!

He came on stage right after photos for his panel and was like "I'm gonna sit, I need that now", falling into the chair right away. Yet, he continued to give us an awesome panel. Seriously, my brain would have been mush by now, yet he gave clever, insightful answers as always and put his full energy into that panel.

We don't deserve that man!

All that goes for Jensen too, btw! But he had a much better schedule with little breaks and rather an hour photos, then something else, then photos again. Which is why I was especially blown away by Jaredˋs dedication. But that doesn't change the fact, that Jensen, too, gives every fan his full attention and makes the most of those 10 seconds and of the panels and everything. They are both amazing like that!

#purcon #purcon 8 #arwenas purcon experiences #Jared Padalecki #Jared Padalecki appreciation

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cloudrunnerscinnamon · 6 months ago

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I guess I am back ...

(gif not mine)

Took me a while but here I am again writing fanfiction and fuck me that feels good!

So since I haven't written anything in quite some time – please be gentle. :) It is not perfect but it is a start. Here it goes. Enjoy!

Short, little something about the 12th Doctor and his travel companion. It is very fluffy. What I would imagine to be an almost „normal“ day in the Tardis.

The usual banter

„Well then stop complaining and just read it to me.“ (Y/N) said while she was walking through the many hallways of the Tardis holding a book in her hands. She was on her way to a more comfortable place to rest. She had spent the last half an hour reading, sitting on one of the chairs in the Tardis main console room. However her back had started to ache and she really did want to snuggle in under a blanket now.

„When you were sitting on the chair I could at least pretend that you were listening to me being all clever. If you go away I got no one to be clever for.“

The Doctor trotted grumpily behind his friend inclined to follower her until he eventually would persuade her to return back to the console room.

„Oh you poor thing you,“ (Y/N) twirled around while still walking and gave the doctor a puppy dog lock. Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him at all.

„I know you just want my attention because you are incapable of enjoying some down time. But I am not - so please just let me read my book in peace and finde someone else to impress.“ Continuing on in her path, (Y/N) heard the Doctor huffing out a loud breath. She smiled to herself. This was them having a good time. Simple, friendly banter mixed with a bit of truth and a piece of spite.

„What are you reading anyways?“ The Time Lord inquired even though he already knew what (Y/N) was reading.

He had checked out the title the minute the woman had picked up the book. He had only kept up his monologue about quantum physics and why it should be taught in Kindergarden to make sure she did not realize he was actually just paying attention to her. His mouth had been on auto pilot doing its own thing. Flushing out knowledge which sounded reasonable enough to not make (Y/N) suspicious. The Doctor’s eyes though were roaming over his friend. They had drunk in every detail about her. She had been sitting a little hunched forward, cross-legged on a console room chair and the Doctor knew her neck would hurt later.

How she delicately held the book, absently running her index finger over the spine. Every other minute one of her hands would pull back a stray strand of hair which had fallen into her vision for the what seemed like the hundredth time. He smiled softly angling his head down a little, turning to the side just a bit so he wouldn’t give himself away. (Y/N)’s expressions were what captured him the most. She could run through so many facial expressions in seconds while reading and she didn’t even know it.

After The Doctor and (Y/N) had started to travel together he had soon learned that she was an adamant reader. Always carrying a book with her which in fact had come in more handy than he could have thought. Soon he had revealed to her the big library the Tardis had to offer and she had spent countless hours in there since then.

So to be honest the Doctor adored how much (Y/N) loved reading and was utterly stunned how much happiness it invoked in her. It made him feel like he could also maybe finde simple things that made him happy. It gave him hope and comfort. Nevertheless he would never admit this out loud. The teasing, the raillery and how they would always end up sitting together reading, talking about it, shushing each other when they wanted to make a point. He loved it, he loved her - which was a secret and something he pushed deep down, well away, avoiding the whole subject.

To answer his question (Y/N) just held the book up over her shoulder.

„You have read this one at least 3 times!“ The thick Scottish accent of this Doctor’s incarnation couldn’t possibly be more prominent. When he continued (Y/N) had to close her eyes for a second. She would never be able to un-hear that low dark rumble of a voice and it gave her the shivers - the good ones.

„How can you read that again, it’s not getting any better. Wasn’t really good to begin with and—“

„5 times, I read it 5 times and it’s my favorite so don’t mock it you old grump.“ She said with a twinkle. Another huff from behind her and then she had reached the door to her room.

The door slide upwards with a silent, swift movement and (Y/N) entered her room.

It was a while back, when on a whim the Doctor had decided that it was time to give (Y/N) her own room. She had been traveling with him for well over a year and even though the Tardis was good at providing the woman with everything she needed when ever she went looking for it, the Time Lord really wanted to extinguish the thought of her just being a guest. So in addition to a key for the Tardis (Y/N) also had gotten a room.

It was in itself a relatively large space however a comfortable king-sized bed, a dark green corduroy couch, several shelves filled with books and other stuff, as well as an antique wooden desk and a well-worn armchair made it look very cozy. Somehow the Tardis had managed to build in a big round window which was laid in deep enough so one could sit on the sill and marvel at the stars. A wooden stool was placed under it for better reach and the nook was set up with different sized cushions and blankets. There was no harsh light source, the whole room was illuminated by tiny fairy lights and garlands (Y/N) had hung in different corners and on the ceiling. Over time some of her drawings, keepsakes and other things had made its way onto the walls. There was a small bouquet of flowers, dried now put still carefully placed into a vase upon a small table next to the arm chair. Flowers (Y/N) had collected during one of the many adventures with the Doctor. In a corner by the bed was an old chair, layers of cloth made it almost invisible. Some of them had slit down onto a fluffy large rug. Somehow all of this captured so much of (Y/N)’s character and the space truly had become hers. It filled the Doctor with joy every time he noticed.

When (Y/N) had just started staying in her own room the Doctor made a point to not enter it. He didn’t want to seem intrusive or else overstepping boundaries so he simply avoided the space all together. But as time passed those boundaries got pushed around and eventually evaporated. It appeared to be that neither the Doctor nor (Y/N) really minded the other in their rooms. Which is why, without hesitation, the Time Lord followed his friend inside.

(Y/N) went straight for the big couch and crawled onto the shorter side of the L shape. Here she could finally rest her back comfortably against the big cushions and cover herself with that large blanket she had been craving. A happy sigh slipped over her lips and the plain words of her book started to take colorful form in her head. It could have been perfect but a few seconds in and (Y/N) had to avert her gaze from those pages just to see a rather cross Time Lord standing in front of her. His head was tilted to the side and he wore a what you could call a question-mark-expression on his face. It did nothing for him combined with his constantly peeved eyebrows but (Y/N) still smiled and sat up a little more.

„You are not, you are really not?“ Lost for words, the Doctor in his bewilderment gestured between the room and the door, his hands flying around.

„You are really going to just sit here and read that book?“ The Doctor pointed at the book as if he was trying to stab it. (Y/N) knew that the Doctor in fact did have a hard time wrapping his head around the concept of just doing nothing or at least not achieving anything, albeit one could argue reading was a great achievement. So she understood, some of this was show, familiarity, daily life with each other but still there was a little truth hidden in the Doctor’s words. He needed her to keep out the loneliness, the dark thoughts and perhaps even memories. The Doctor’s mind was much easier to carry when it was occupied. And most days (Y/N) was happy to oblige. She loved being his companion. One adventure after another, long sleepless nights and so many stories he could tell but some days she simply needed to rest. Catch her breath in someway. „Hey did you just silently insult my book with your finger. Cos I saw that!“ (Y/N) chuckled and rolled her eyes in a fake annoyed manner. She defensively covered the book with her hands mocking him. The Doctor drew in a breath and put his hands on his sides revealing the red lining of his long coat. His signature move, (Y/N) thought and she had to laugh at that. He really was a child sometimes, stomping his feet.

„Come on now Doc. You have three options here,“ her thumb went up to indicate the different alternatives.

„Number one: you can either sit down and be quiet,“ second finger joined, „ number two: you can go away do what ever the hell you want or,“ third finger rose, „ number three: and this is my preferred option, you can sit down, snuggle in and read the book to me.“ (Y/N) wiggled her fingers at the Time Lord and shrugged.

„Your pick.“

To the Doctor there really weren’t three options here, all he truly wanted was to be close to (Y/N). She calmed him, he had figured that out awhile back after they had been traveling together for only a few weeks. Everything around him usually carried some kind of intensity, pressure and he had a tough time ridding himself off that even in the comfort of his Tardis. (Y/N) took that away, she was like a constant that fixed something in him. At first he wasn’t able to accept that. It felt weird to the Doctor that somebody else had such an impact on him but after a while he recognized it as something special. With her around there was no need to go on and keep digging, to keep finding but he never told her that. Old habits die hard and he wasn’t ready to share that knowledge yet. After all he was the Doctor who kept running right?

Nevertheless (Y/N) did notice that the way the Doctor treated her differed a little from how he carried himself with others. She put it off to all the countless hours they had spent together and them simply being comfortable around each other. Just friends.

The Doctor grumbled something under his breath and kept lingering in the middle of the room.

„What was that?“, she asked. Instead of an answer the Doctor took a few long strides towards the Couch. Before (Y/N) could do anything the book was snatched from her hands and with a thud the Doctor plopped down right next to her. He pushed his shoes off putting his feet up and under his companion’s blanket. His left arm came down around (Y/N)’s shoulders and he opened the book at the latest dog-ear.

„You really have got to stop doing that.“ The Doctor nodded towards the book. „Dog-ears are just horrendous especially for the next reader.“

„If you wouldn’t interrupt me so often there’d hardly be any.“ (Y/N) tried to sound offended but she couldn’t hide the smile forming on her lips. She grabbed the Doctor’s hand that was resting on her left arm and squeezed it lightly. His fingers involuntarily interlaced with hers right away and his thumb caressed the back of her hand. This was sweet and surprising. They had been sitting close together before but as of late more often. However it normally didn’t go further than their bodies touching side by side.

The atmosphere had suddenly changed. The moment came and went and still they were just sitting there quietly, waiting maybe. (Y/N) moved first. She scooted down a little so she could lean more into the Doctor and was able to rest the back of her head on his chest. (Y/N) could feel the rise and the fall of the Time Lord’s breath. Were those thumps his hearts? She couldn’t be sure because her own heart was beating wildly. The Doctor drew in a long breath, he wanted to start reading. As much as he was enjoying the close proximity to (Y/N) he was also scared to give away how much it actually moved him. Reading would at least draw some of his braincells in another direction. He closed his eyes for a second to compose himself, how could he be so nervous? He was The Doctor, the oncoming storm, bringer of darkness and –. And in the face of feelings remotely in the vicinity of romance he still basically was just a school boy with a crush, tongue tide and clumsy hands. Sensing that the Doctor was hesitating for some reason, (Y/N) turned around a little and peeked up at the Doctor. The look she saw in his eyes startled her. She had seen that kindness and calm before all though hardly ever as unfiltered as it was right then. Yet (Y/N) got a scarce view of something else and it confused her immensely. What was that? (Y/N) let go of the Doctor’s hand and without thinking about it she very softly ran a finger along his face. She started at his hairline slowly tracing it down to his cheekbone, continuing on until she reached the corner of his mouth, drawing a half circle down upon his chin. And before she even realized what she had just done her hand dropped back down lying flat on the Doctor’s chest.

„I,“ (Y/N)’s voice came out a little raspy and she had to swallow to clear her throat.

„I thought, I thought I saw, there was something, I…“ She shook her head.

„Sorry I didn’t mean to just –. How rude of me!“ (Y/N) gained her bearings back and was suddenly very aware of what she had just done. Her face grew red and she felt stupid.

If the Doctor hadn’t been holding his breath before he sure as hell was now. The way she had run her finger down his face and had looked at him while doing so made him speechless. Second time he was lost for words in mere minutes, that’s an accomplishment. All the carefully stored away feelings he harbored for his travel companion came rushing out trying to finally overwhelm him. Well and that was that. It was over, there was no denying it anymore. After all that time and all those rules he put upon himself something just snapped. Fine, here we go then, the Doctor thought. Wrapped up in this huge aha-experience of his, (Y/N) begun to wiggle her way out of there close sitting positions. She didn’t dare look at the Doctor and just wanted to get away. Shocked by the unexpected loss of contact the Doctor panicked a little and dropped the book on the couch He quickly took a hold of (Y/N)s hands. She halted in her movement. Without saying anything the Doctor tucked a little. What he really meant to say was ‚please don’t leave, everything is good. Stay here - with me.‘ but all he managed, owed to his utter lack of being able to say what he really feels, was:

„Where are you going?“ His voice was soft, no trace of insistence. Silence. They looked at each other. The Doctor didn’t want this to go south, he wanted to save this situation make it go back to where they had been moments ago.Where was time traveling when one really needed it. When (Y/N) clearly wasn’t going to say anything, worse it looked like she still wanted to flee. The Doctor chose to go for chatter. Comfort lies in the known and chatting each others ears off – they knew.

„So you touched my face, no big deal. Isn’t like you haven’t done that before is it?“ The Doctor tried to sound normal, relaxed even.

„I mean I get it, I am a sight to behold.“ He wiggled his eyebrows and made an upward motion with his hand, flipping long strands of hair around he clearly didn’t have.

This was funny in itself because this particular regeneration of the Doctor really didn’t think himself handsome or good looking in any way. It had never bothered him too much. However since he felt more and more drawn to (Y/N) in a romantic manner he kind of wished he still was that young, springy, bow-tie version or even the sand-shoed one.

Finally a small smile on (Y/N)’s lips. Her shoulders relaxed a little too. Just one more for good measure then, the Doctor thought, and we should be reading in no time.

„Now I haven’t got all day. Do you want me to read this to you or would you rather prefer to map out more of my frowning lines?“ Almost back to her quick-witted self (Y/N) opened her mouth to respond but the Time Lord cut right in.

„Oh and no I am not doing voices. The last time I did that I had slightly too much red wine and you had broken your fragile human wrist.“ He glared at her one more time smirking and picked the book back up. (Y/N) was moving back into the position she had just left so hasty and slapped the Doctor on his knee.

„As long as I don’t have to hear anything about quantum physics for the next few weeks I take what I can get, you grouch.“ The Doctor scoffed, giving her a disbelieving look. „I have, you know, on good authority that some people would commit murder to her me lecture about –“ This time (Y/N) went right over the Doctor’s words.

„Shhh, less talking more reading.“ With that (Y/N) fully leaned back and placed her head on the Doctor’s hearts once more. The Time Lord smiled to himself. When he started to read his thick Scottish accent filled the room, he knew she loved it.

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i-magines · 2 years ago

Text

Wildest Dreams: Chapter 3

Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader

synopsis: You’re an assistant director in an indie movie set and fate makes sure you keep crossing paths with a certain Chilean actor.

disclaimer: This is my first Pedro Pascal’s fictional work + the first fanfic I write in English, as it isn’t my first language. Unfortunately, I do not own Pedro and this is all a product of my imagination.

rating: M (keep scrolling if your under 18 please)

warnings: age gap, mature content, fem!reader, eventual drinking and drugs, a little smut but nothing crazy (yet), a bit slow burn but not really.

word count: 1,509

Over the first month, your friendship with Pedro only grew stronger. You were afraid once the production set was moved to the country, he was going to just disappear, as you were no longer roommates. You’d be lying to yourself if you said he didn’t make you feel anything, especially with how charming and flirting he was. You both had shared a lot of personal stuff over smoking joints and you were already used to hanging out together after a day of filming. But today things were going to be different, because the producers had organized a little happy hour for the crew.

Speaking of them, you had asked Pedro to keep your friendship on the low, at least during the job. You knew what everyone would say and think, mostly about you alone, so you were looking after yourself. He understood that and apparently didn’t care to be sneaking out like a teenager to spend some time with you.

“There you are”, Pedro happily greeted you on the corner of the happy hour room, about two hours into the event. “I almost didn’t get the chance to see you today. How’s everything going?”

At this point, you were certain the director hated you, but thank God he was the only one. Everyone else seemed to really like you and your work, which helped a lot with your anxiety.

“He spent the day trying to drive me crazy… Again”, you told Pedro. “You?”

“I would definitely rather be directed by you, if I’m being honest” he said in sympathy. “But yeah, it won’t take long for me to tell him to fuck off. Super nicely, of course.”

You both laughed. You could see he had been drinking and so did everybody in the room. Somebody turned up the music and Pedro dragged you to the improvised dance floor. You danced for about half an hour, until you saw him going to talk to Donna, one of the producers. They seemed friendly— too friendly, if somebody asked your opinion. You noticed it before, how close they acted sometimes, but at the end of the day, it was none of your business. Flo, the make-up artist that got you the job, got your attention and you walked to her.

“What’s up with that face?” She shot you the question. Flo was in her mid 40s and you got to know her in your first gig, since then she was always trying to connect you with people. You really liked her and, most importantly, trusted her. “You looked like you were about to commit murder on the dance floor. I know Dave is giving you a hard time, but honestly he is doing this to every single soul.”

“I was just wondering, is Donna taken?”, you asked as if you had no intention behind it.

“Yeah, I think so”, she told you. “Why? You gay too?”

“Someti— wait, what?” You stared at each other for a few seconds. “Is she?”

“As far as I know”, she said simply. “And by that I mean I’ve known her for about 10 years now. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“No, you didn’t. I mean, good for her, right.”

You decided you need to put your shit together now on. You excused yourself and went to get another drink — you can be a new woman tomorrow. You took some shots and got a drink to hold while you watched everyone dancing and having a good time. You tried to force yourself to stop thinking about your crush on Pedro.

“I need professional help”, you whispered to yourself.

“And why is that?”

“Shit, Pedro!” You jumped, realizing he was right by your side. “You scared the shit out of me, you shithead.”

“Wow, language, sweetheart”, he laughed at your reaction, putting his arm over your shoulder. “What are you up to?”

“Not much, just enjoying the free drinks”, you replied, also enjoying the proximity of his body. “I can see you’re enjoying them yourself.”

“Nah, I’m thinking about getting out of here, people are starting to get too drunk and God forbid I witness anything I can’t unsee”, he was being playful and seemed happy when he got a smile out of you. “Care to join me? Or you already have plans for tonight?”

“Yeah, you know me, Miss Popularity herself”, you both laughed. “Seriously, though. I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Is it okay if we leave together? Considering your privacy policy”, he whispered in your ear. Only if he knew how weak that makes you. You just nodded. “After you, mi princesa.”

Fuck you, Pedro Pascal, you thought as you made the effort to move your shaking legs. Two options: first, he had no idea of his effects on you, or second, he did know that and he just liked to torture you. However it is, you were not willing to make a move to figure it out.

The location of the shooting was a huge farm, so you walked together through the open field, towards his cabin. You got inside and took your shoes off.

“Hey, mister ‘I’m just a common worker as everybody else’, tell me again why exactly you are the only one with a private hot tube”, you teased him. He laughed. “Is it because you’re such good friends with Donna?”.

“So that’s what it was about back in the happy hour?” Pedro looked deeply into your eyes. “Such a jealous little girl, uh?”

You looked away, embarrassed. You can’t deny your brain formulated that sentence, but the alcohol spilled it out your mouth.

“Answering your question, I’m not really friends with Donna, but her partner is one of my closest colleagues in the industry”, he said in a patient tone. “And you’re welcome to use the hot tube whenever you feel like it.”

You could feel your cheeks burning. Fuck.

“I didn’t mean to— to be honest, I don’t even know what I meant, so don’t mind drunk Y/N”, you breathed out strongly.

“Why don’t we forget about it and instead go chill in the hot tube?” He offered you a smile. Pedro was so easy to deal with, always trying to make you comfortable. “I have more of that nice whisky you like.”

You quickly put on your bikini in your room and head back to Pedro’s cabin. You could hear the happy hour turning into a party on the back, as you joined him inside the tub. You did your best to not stare at his toned, tanned body. He was smoking a cigar and handed you a glass.

“You know what’s funny”, he started, you already knew you wouldn’t find it funny at all. “This is the second time I see you in a tub.”

“Well, fuck you very much sir”, you held a serious face before letting a smile scape. “That was traumatic.”

“Why is that? I would say you made quite an impression”, he laughed, something different sparkling in his eyes. “Would it bother you if I said I still think about it?”

You felt your body hot, as if the water was on boiling point.

“God”, you whispered. He never took his eyes off yours. “I don’t know what to say, Pedro.”

“It’s a simple question, sweetheart”, he replied, coming a little closer. You got chills all over your body. “Honestly, I don’t know if you only see me as this friendly, older, disgusting man—”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” you cut him before he could finish. “Feel free to think about whatever you like.”

“Good”, he said quietly, his body even closer, but still not touching yours. “Tell me what you were doing on the tub that day, sweetheart.”

“I-I was, uh,” you felt like you were about to explode, your brain trying to process if this was really happening. “I was touching myself.”

“Finally, princesa”, he let out a deep breath against your neck. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to hear you say this, to be sure my memory wasn’t fucking with me.”

He touched your waist with his hand, putting the cigar away with the other one. You felt delirious.

“What are you going to do now that you know?” The question popped out of your mouth.

He grabbed your arm to move your body, making you sit on his lap. Face to face. He was hard as fuck.

“I will take you back to your cabin, give you a goodnight kiss…” He made a pause. His stare was deep down your soul. “Come back to mine and think ‘bout you while I mind my own business.”

He was dead serious.

“I’m too horny to go to sleep”, you cried to him, all your blood concentrated between your legs. You moved on his lap, rubbing against his cook.

“Trust me”, he said as his hands firmly held your hips down, making you stop and yet feel him ever harder. “I feel the same way.”

He gave you a little forehead kiss.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

CHAPTER 4 AVALIABLE NOW

TAGLIST: @kyuupidwrites @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @vivibabiez @ivyohmy @sebastianstansimp @tubble-wubble @28cnn @3zae-zae3 @technicallysassyfox @bellatrixyoass @mandolover86 (edit: i’m not sure why i wasn’t able to tag everybody i’m trying my best here)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro x reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction

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biblio-smia · 1 year ago

Text

all made up [ethan landry x reader]

pairing: ethan landry x gender neutral reader (reader wears makeup)

summary: ethan lets reader do his makeup <3

masterlist | requests are open!

Ethan always watched with a hazy, love-stricken stare when you put on makeup.

He was entranced by your faces of concentration and what he assumed were light touches aiming for precision as you applied whatever product came next.

You always hated when he stared, his intense attention on you making your face grow warm with embarrassment. But then you'd look over and see hearts in Ethan's eyes and you forgave him.

Whether it was a desire to feel those little touches and taps you did on yourself or pure curiosity, Ethan blurted out the idea of you putting makeup on him.

And maybe it was a desire for revenge, an opportunity to fluster him as much as he flustered you whenever he stared, that caused you to say yes.

You started off sitting in front of Ethan, products spread out everywhere as you thought about what you would do to him. You could probably slather red on his eyes and purple on his cheeks and get praised, but you decided against it.

You picked up your first product: a barely-touched concealer that was not your shade. It came in a small palette of cream concealers and came in handy as you began working on Ethan's eye bags.

"Wait, what about the face stuff?" Ethan asked, a small whine in his voice.

"Ethan, we are not the same shade. You're lucky this concealer kinda matches," you laughed gently, patting under his eyes carefully. "Plus, you have nice skin. You wouldn't have needed it, anyway."

Ethan grumbled a little. He had been looking forward to that part. Now he would have to trick you into washing his face for him some day.

At least Ethan didn't have to close his eyes for this part. He sat with his legs crossed and his hands on his knees, eager for your touch. He watched as your concentration face formed, careful to put the product only where it needed to be.

You were quiet, which Ethan should have anticipated. You reached for some light brown eye shadow and a brush.

"I think you need to come closer for that," Ethan grinned, pulling you fully into his lap.

"I think you just want me on your lap," you smiled.

"Maybe," Ethan hummed against your lips, giving you a soft kiss.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted me to do your makeup," you laughed, pulling away and holding Ethan's face steady. "You can't move or I'm gonna poke your eye out."

You couldn't help the small laugh that escaped your lips at Ethan's expression. "I'm kidding."

"You're so mean."

"You like it." You tapped the brush off against the eye shadow pan. "Close your eyes."

Ethan obeyed and cherished each gentle brush of makeup against his eyelids, smiling as he lost himself in the feeling. It was slow and relaxing, and Ethan's eyes snapped open once it ended.

You offered him a smile as you added a little more here, rubbed a little bit off there. The care you put into this made Ethan's heart pound out of his chest, adoration clear on his face. It was such a small thing, but each glance you threw him to make sure you weren't getting anything in his eye made Ethan melt completely.

You reached for a different type of brush and combed through Ethan's eyebrows, half-hidden by his curls. Your motions were slow but the process wasn't a long one and you were reaching for something new in no time.

You brushed a light blush onto Ethan's cheeks, emphasizing what was already there. He was always blushing around you, especially when you were this close. He took advantage of you working on his face to stare like he loved to do. He stared at your face as you worked, watching each feature shift subtly.

Ethan could stare at you for hours. You were beautiful.

Ethan's heart beat so loud in his ears he could barely hear you speak to him.

"Huh?" He asked dumbly, his eyes falling back to yours.

"I'm done," you smiled. "wanna see?"

"What? No," Ethan pouted. "Do more, please?"

You laughed at Ethan's expression and his request.

"I'm serious. You can make me look like a clown or whatever, just... keep doing my makeup?" Ethan looked at you with big eyes and you grinned.

"Aw, Ethan," you said softly, cupping his face in your hand. "You don't need makeup to look like a clown."

"Ha, ha," Ethan said, though he was holding back a genuine laugh.

"I'm just gonna swipe my brushes on you," you warned.

"That's fine," Ethan grinned, wrapping his arms around you.

"I can barely move if you're trapping me like this," you laughed.

"That's fine," Ethan repeated. He could see you perfectly from here and could feel the soft brush tap against his skin.

That's all that mattered.

#ethan landry x reader #scream #scream x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x you #scream 6 #scream vi #ethan landry fanfiction #v + ethan #v writes

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mvshortcut · 3 months ago

Note

Hi, Milk!! I wanted to give you some options, so here you go! I hope you are doing well and that this is fun for you. If it isn't, then please don't finish! I don't want it to be a burden <3

11. "They shouldn't treat you like that."

16. "You were calling out, in your sleep. You said my name."

21. "Oh, love. What have you done to yourself?"

26. "You're allowed to need help."

43. "Why haven't you been eating?"

48. "Don't touch me!"

And for characters, in no particular order: Mr. Benedict, Milligan, Rhonda, Sticky, Kate, S.Q., Curtain, McCracken, Sharpe, and Crawlings. Show or Books, it doesn't matter :)

read on ao3 here

tw for stress-induced eating issues!

“Why haven’t you been eating?”

Damn Milligan and his observational skills. Rhonda scratched at the back of her neck but did not look up from the map she was pouring over. “Eating? I’ve been eating plenty. What are you—”

“Now, I was here two days ago, and I remember what the pantry looked like then,” Milligan said casually. “The news of Mr. Benedict and Number Two’s kidnapping arrived the morning I left. So… let’s see here …” He moved past Rhonda into the kitchen and tugged open the pantry door. Rhonda winced.

“It isn’t what it looks l—”

“The candy jar is almost empty,” Milligan noted. “That wouldn’t have been your doing?”

“Oh no, I thought for sure I hid it well enough this time,” Rhonda moaned. “No, that wasn’t me.”

Milligan nodded and rifled through some boxes. “The chocolate bars are gone … but you prefer those granola craisins, don’t you?”

“I’ve been known to have a chocolate bar here and there,” Rhonda said futilely. Even as she attempted to fend off Milligan’s suspicions, she still was reserving half of her attention for marking key areas on the map of Stonetown on the table before her. “Now let’s see … if the pigeon needs to fly to the east to return to it’s roost, then it would take approximately—”

Milligan opened the freezer. “Oh, lookie! The three bags of dino nuggets are gone!”

Rhonda groaned. “I made her a shepherd’s pie! It took me an hour, too! But she wouldn’t—”

“Believe me, I know,” Milligan held out a calming hand. “She’s not going to want to eat anything with peas in it when her whole world has been turned upside down. It’s more important that she’s eating something, at the very least. Which brings us back to you.”

Milligan raised an eyebrow. Rhonda groaned.

“We both know you’ve been vegetarian for years,” he said gently. “You didn’t eat any of those dino nuggets, did you?” Rhonda looked back at the map and made some more marks with her pencil.

The silence grew and grew.

“I had some crackers,” Rhonda blurted.

“Uh-huh.”

More silence.

“How many crackers, exactly?”

Rhonda swiped at her eyes without looking up from the map.

“Hey. Hey.” Milligan was across the room in a second. “I’m not trying to upset you. I just see you working and worrying yourself into the ground. It does no good. Do you think I’d get anywhere on my missions if I didn’t eat?”

“No, you’d fall off a roof and brain yourself,” Rhonda hiccupped.

“Exactly. And you’ve got quite the noggin up there—” he rapped her skull playfully— “so let’s get it some food, shall we?”

Rhonda gestured helplessly. “The map—”

“—can wait.”

“Mr. Benedict and Number Two can’t!”

“And five minutes spent eating a slice of lasagna won’t make a difference, Rhonda.” When she still looked skeptical, he cracked a weak smile. “C’mon. Do you really think Number Two would be upset if you took time out of your day to eat? Or Mr. Benedict if you took a few hours to sleep?”

Despite herself, a tiny grin tugged Rhonda’s face at the thought of her family.

“Exactly. Now, my friend Moocho Brazos has arrived—you’ve met him? Excellent—and let me tell you, he is quite the cook. He tends to make too much, especially when he’s stressed. As the host, I think it’s your responsibility to help him out and eat some of the extra plates he’s put together. What do you say?”

Rhonda glanced one more time at her map, then nodded.

“Good. I’ll bring it up to you when it’s ready.” Then, something mysterious came over Milligan. He put his hands on his hips, drew himself up taller, and wagged a finger at her. “And don’t let me catch you neglecting your health again. Understand?”

“Yes,” Rhonda replied automatically, bemused. Milligan nodded and turned to go.

“That’s a new voice,” she called after him. She heard his footsteps halt in the hallway, then patter in reverse on the carpet until he arrived back in the doorframe.

“Pardon?”

“The Disappointed Dad voice you just tried out on me.”

“Oh,” Milligan said, flushing. “That. Yes. Just something I’m working on.”

“I see.” Rhonda’s lips twitched.

“Yes, well, I’ll need it when I finally catch up with those rascals in Portugal, so…” Milligan’s chest puffed out a tad. “Was it … y’know… any good?”

“No.”

Milligan nodded as if he’d been expecting this. “Ah.”

“But keep trying though.” Rhonda smiled—really smiled—for the first time in days. “I’m sure you’ll get it soon.”

“Right. Just gotta keep workshopping it,” Milligan nodded to himself. He still looked abashed but nevertheless attempted a snappy salute. “Lasagna delivery in ten.”

#Sophieeee these prompts are so good <3 #I hope to write several of the other ones too #also I know Milligan took off within like a day after the kidnapping #but pretend it's been like two days or so just to make the angst fit #my writing #the mysterious benedict society #rhonda kazembe #milligan wetherall #the perilous journey

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sammyboyimagines · 2 years ago

Note

Heeeeeeey~ its me again, but now I have a request for you :3

Can you please make headcanons of Billy Hargrove married with the reader?~ maybe some sfw and some nsfw?~ pretty pleaaaaaase? *puppy eyes*

//hi of course of course!! I'm so sorry this took so long I've had very confusing week and I love this request. Also thank you again for the kind words a few days ago! I'd love to write more for you anytime if you want to request, absolutely no pressure though! <3 I'm listening to my romantic playlist so this should be fun, also it's 1 am sorry for any errors, I think there are many lol

warnings: established relationship, oral, unprotected sex, fluff, smut, MINORS GO AWAY ON THE SECOND HALF OF IT, rough sex, idk what else

alright, first I'm gonna start off with the SFW stuff!

now, obviously the minute you are alone on your honeymoon, he is all over you. Kissing all over your face and neck, cuddling you for hours, etc.

Billy enjoys letting everyone know you're his, your name might as well be "my wife" because he introduces you as his wife to everyone that will listen.

I like to think that Billy settling down might make his father make an effort, I think that seeing him be so loving with you makes his father want to be a better father.

Adding onto that, I think it would also bring his sister closer to him, as she definitely hangs out with you a lot whenever she's not with her friends.

Billy is a very touchy husband, holding your hand as he speeds down the freeway, holding your thigh during dinners with your parents, and pulling you close to him any chance he gets.

He gave you a fancy ring when he proposed to let everyone know you were taken.

Billy doesn't know much about love and committed relationships, but you take everything day by day, and it makes him much more comfortable with the idea of building a life together with you.

I think he would stay awake some nights just thinking about the fact that it really happened. You're his wife.

It took him forever to really let it sink in, but he was excited nonetheless.

I think deep down, Billy was worried that he would never fall in love with someone and really tie the knot. Commitment used to scare him until he found you, someone who didn't care about superficial things like money, looks, etc.

Billy definitely saved up for the proposal in advance. It took him a while to propose because he wanted the scene to be perfect, with nobody interrupting.

The wedding was fairly small, the less the better in his opinion. Just a few family members from each side.

Billy would never come out and say it, but he loves spending holidays and domestic things with you. Exchanging gifts even though you were the best gift he ever could have received.

Though you'd disagree, Billy was constantly worried about being a good husband.

Coming from a broken home, he was terrified that his marriage would end up in shambles like his parents.

It took many sleepless nights and comforting talks for Billy to realize that some things last forever. He wanted it to last forever. (I'm listening to Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls rn sorry if it gets sad)

One thing he had to come to terms with was SHARING. Sharing everything, clothing, feelings, etc. He never learned to give and get back, and he adored every single one of these life lessons from his darling wife.

That reminds me, he stops calling you pet names in public and just starts calling you his beautiful wife. For example, shopping, he'll get your attention with a quick, "Come here, my beautiful wife."

He learns to love the little things. Your tired face in the mornings when he wakes you up from a dead sleep, the way you stare at the ring on your finger for at least 10 minutes every day, the way you looked when saying your vows. He wanted to keep these memories forever.

In conclusion, married life frightened Billy, but with his beautiful wife by his side, he felt better every passing day.

Ugh so sweet and fluffy, time for some NSFW headcanons! NO MINORS BEYOND THIS POINT OR I'M GONNA TELL UR MOM, SHE'S IN BED WITH ME RN

Minors I really mean it, istg she's right here

She's literally right here.

If you don't have a mom, I will tell your dad, I have him on the phone rn

Go away minors, last warning.

Okay onto the content, Billy absolutely revels in the fact that you are his, his baby, his wife, his little slut. He fucking loves it.

Your honeymoon was WILD. He tried positions all over your vacation spot. Against the wall or bending you over was his favorite though, classic and intimate.

The looks he gives you in public places, he definitely undresses you with his eyes whenever he gets the chance.

The ring always gets him hard, knowing that he's yours and you are his for forever makes him long to show you just how much love he has for you. He has A LOT apparently.

Billy loves to hold hands when he's fucking you. Feeling the ring as a loving reminder while he roughly drills into you until you're a moaning mess underneath him.

Billy was very soft on his wedding day. The way he swayed and spun you around as you two danced made your heart flutter. But the honeymoon? He was a beast. You'd get home from a nice dinner and within 2 minutes, he'd have ripped your dress and bent you over whatever surface was closest.

Except for your first night as husband and wife. It was the first time he was gentle. He made love to you, and took his time to make sure he watched his wife's face contort in pleasure as he ate you out or fucked you gently.

That first night, it was the first time he came before you. He was so worked up he had lost control from just teasing you, so when he finally slid inside you, it only took him about a minute to let go. He was extremely upset until you convinced him that he could try again next round.

Adding to that, now that you're married, Billy feels like he has all the time in the world to shower you with love. On weekends, you're never out of bed without your legs shaking and a fucked out smile adorning your face. Billy thought it was the best way to wake up, and how could you refuse morning sex?

Billy hadn't considered children yet in all honesty, but he was opening up about the fact that marriages could work without constant arguing and compensating. He was in the moment.

That being said, he fucked you raw practically every time. You were on birth control (or not, whatever you wanna do), and he couldn't resist the feeling of your soft warm walls on his dick, it was like heaven.

After several rounds, Billy loves to either draw you a nice hot bath to make up for his roughness or cuddle up to you.

Billy was accidentally the little spoon for one night and now he likes to be the little spoon every now and then.

Being, his wife, you got used to his hands on you all the time. You couldn't pass by him without a loud slap on the ass or a kiss on the head.

He loves to kiss your collarbone and your neck, to leave marks, and hickeys all over. The first time you talked to Robin and Steve after the honeymoon, they were disgusted by the blatantly obvious hickeys covering your neck, collarbone, chest, and under your clothes.

High sex drive, he loves quickies, blow jobs, and fingering you under the table. He loved fucking your throat, watching you struggle to take him as you gag on his cock.

Hair-pulling kink. He pulls your hair while fucking you from behind, pulling your body back to whisper, "my good little slut, taking me so well" into your ear. He loves when you pull his hair too, the first time you did it he audibly moaned. It shocked the both of you.

Never lets you get off alone. He was visibly upset when he found out that you still masturbated when you two were married. He felt that there was no reason to do that when he was always there to help you out. He was offended.

Billy explored many kinks with you as the marriage went forward. He has a daddy kink for sure. This was discovered when you mumbled in during sex and he lost control in like 30 seconds.

Billy likes to think that he's the man of the house, you're his. That's what he tells other people. However, he is absolutely whipped for you. Whatever you need, whatever you want to do, he's right there doing it for you. Whether its eating your out or making dinner.

He can hardly stand in the kitchen cooking with you, he'll get carried away and before you know it, the food is burnt and you've been making out on the couch for an hour.

Car sex is a must, before hanging out with friends, before dinner, before anything, you aren't leaving until he's had his way with you.

//okay i think i'm done, i really hope you liked it!! <3

#billy hargove imagine #billy hargove x reader #billy x reader #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove #stranger things netflix #stranger things #robin buckley #steve harrington #billy headcanons

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tikitsune · 11 months ago

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OMGGG, ellooooo I wanna make a request can you make a either Kirsten, Waackxxy, Cera, or a Sayaka one-shot? Plzzz and thankkk youuuu

I honestly wasn't expecting this but sure.

"Can I really do this?" "I believe you can."

Kirsten Dodgen x reader (can be read as either platonic or romantic)

Note: This is my first time getting an ask Anon, so thank you!!! Your request was also very vauge, so I'm going to try and make this as non-specific as possible.

Warning: This was written on Tumblr, so there may be mistakes. Minor insecurities.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight."

You watched Kristen in her element, dancing and teaching, wondering if you could something like that.

Kristen had invited you to one of her classes to see how it went. When you told her you wanted to try dancing, she was ecstatic. Even if you had two left feet, she was willing to teach you.

"Alright everyone! Good job! Let's take five for a water break. Feel free to mingle with people."

Your attention snapped back to Kristen as she dismissed her class before walking to you. You picked up the water bottle that sat beside you and held it out to her as she approached.

"Hey babes. What's ya think?" She asked you as she took a sip from the water bottle.

"That was good. Don't think I can do it though."

She laughed. "That's what later is for."

She had basically slotted you in for a free private lesson after this class. She was going to teach you the choreography she was teaching now, giving you time to mentally go over the moves in your head and prepare yourself for what was to come.

You sigh. "Still think I can't do it. You have high expectations."

Kristen moves to sit down next to you before grabbing your hands in hers. "Stop doubting yourself. Even if you're not good at it, at the very least, you tried."

You smile, feeling better about your inevitable flop later. Her kind words as well as her belief in your abilities made you more confident.

"You're right! Although I'm not going to be good, at least I tried." You say, raising you fist slightly in the air determinedly.

She laughs before looking at the time. "Alright. Just another hour and then we are done here."

She pats you on the shoulder before addressing her dance class. "Alright everyone! Times up. Let's get back to it."

She was met with cheers, hoots and hollers as her students excitedly stopped whatever they were doing and got back to their positions. She shot you one last smile before paying utmost attention to her class.

An hour and a half later, you and Kristen had just finished setting up for your private lesson. Still, though, you were unsure of yourself.

"Can I really do this?" You say out loud, mostly to yourself though.

Kristen smiles softly at you. "I believe you can."

She pulls you into a hug before the two of you seperate and get started on the private lesson.

Note 2: It's been sitting in my draft box for like 3 weeks now. Sorry about that but here you go.

Note 3: I also think I'm better at righting one shots so yes. Please send me more so I can test this theory. If I don't know the fandom, please don't come at me.

#tikitsune's writings #kristen dodgen #kristen dodgen x reader #swf2 x reader #swf2 #jam republic (swf 2)#jam republic (swf 2) x reader #jam republic

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merovingianprincess · 9 months ago

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As Fate Would Have It...

Here's the beginning of the mini-series I mentioned I had an interest in writing. Please let me know if y'all want more. : )

Warnings: none

Disclaimer: I don't own the Tolkien-verse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was both uncommon and unusual for my father to not tell me anything regarding business and trade deals. Even if he didn't tell me everything, he would at least give me a crumb of something to keep me satisfied until whatever deal was brokered and completed.

"Why can't you tell me?" I pestered him, following him around his small wooden office in the rebuilt Esgaroth.

He just shook his head, signing the piece of parchment, folding it, and then pouring hot wax, and stamping it with his insignia.

"It's best for you not to know until it's finished and done," he replied, standing up with the letter in hand, heading towards the door and handing it to a waiting messenger.

I followed my father out the door, angrily shutting it behind me. The messenger quickly took off down the wooden pier and off until I no longer had him in my sight. I turned to face my father again who was already walking in the opposite direction a few feet ahead of me.

I groaned picking up the skirt of my pale blue dress and briskly walked after him, trying to catch up with him. He walked quickly, with a purpose. People greeted him as they walked past, offering smiles to me as well. My father was the well-respected mayor of Esgaroth, and I was his curious and headstrong only daughter. My brothers were off on business elsewhere.

He kept ignoring my pleading attempts for information on whatever he was keeping from me. Soon we came to the outermost edge of the town, where we looked down over the edge at the work being done by some brave men. They were diving down to retrieve jewels from the corpse of Smaug the dragon.

The jewels were beautiful and exquisite; Father told me that some were being traded and sold, some were being kept as a reminder of that fateful day, and the rest were being used for something my father wouldn't tell me about.

Two things he wouldn't tell me about and it was irritating me. As I previously explained, I am curious and I like to know things, so I can help out if needed. Father calls me nosey, I disagree.

I saw the divers come to the surface with fistfuls of jewels, putting them in baskets that were then pulled up by ropes by other men and carefully distributed into 3 different piles. I knew from tales that Smaug was a large dragon, but I didn't realize just how many jewels covered the dragon's chest; though the arrow that claimed his life was still embedded in the bone.

Father inspected the jewels, still ignoring my pleas. Huffing, I walked back to our residence and poured myself some honey wine, my father disapproved of me having some wine before dinner but he wasn't here to judge at the moment. I decided to spend the rest of my afternoon reading a romance book that I recently acquired from some traders.

A few hours passed when the cook started making dinner and my father arrived back shortly after.

"Mmm, Alis, whatever you are preparing smells wonderful," my father praised the cook, taking off his coat and draping it over his favorite chair, before looking over at me, "and Eleanor, it appears you haven't stopped sulking," he remarked sitting down. I glared at him over my book from my seat on the couch.

"Ah sir, she hasn't been sulking, she's been good reading her book," said Alis, chopping up an onion.

I smirked, returning my attention back to my book that I was nearly done with. All was quiet for a half hour besides Alis chopping up ingredients, until there was a knock at the door.

My father stood up from his chair, "Ah his response was quicker than I thought it would be." he mumbled walking towards the door, opening it, and receiving a letter from the messenger who once again scurried off.

"And dinner is done," Alis announced placing three plates of food on the table.

I set my book off to the side and got up from my seat, taking my place at the dinner table where Alis sat, pouring herself some honey wine, and my father leisurely made his way over unfolding the letter with an insignia I did not recognize.

I too poured myself a drink and took a sip, watching as my father sat down in his chair reading the letter, a smile appearing on his face before he set the letter folded up, down on the table.

"Good news sir?" Alis asked, raising her fork to her mouth.

"Yes, wonderful news and an excellent new alliance." my father said taking a bite of his potatoes.

I tried to not act interested even though I was DYING to know, I was tempted to snatch the letter and read it, but I stayed collected. We ate in silence for a while until we were almost done eating when my father decided to speak.

"Eleanor, you will be getting married soon." he proclaimed, sitting back in his chair, and bringing his cup to his mouth.

I almost choked as I was taken by surprise, "Married? To whom?"

He was quiet for a while, watching me squirm. I wasn't against the idea of marriage, I actually dreamed of finding true love and a good husband. But I wanted to know my suitor. Was he nice? Was he valiant like in the romance stories?

"The elvenking, King Thranduil," he said, putting his cup down on the table.

I had heard little of King Thranduil, I only knew he was the king of Mirkwood and fought with his army at the Battle of the Five Armies, almost 100 years ago.

Alis reached over and gently squeezed my forearm, "You'll be a queen," she said with a smile, before standing up and clearing the table whilst I stared at my father.

"But he's an elf," was all I could say.

"Yes, that's why he is called the Elvenking." my father said, standing up with a stretch.

I rolled my eyes as I scooted back my chair and stood up as well, "And I'm a human. It's almost unheard of for two different people to marry." I said walking around the table to my father who was making his way back over to his chair.

"Yes, but there are a few instances of it happening and like Alis said, you will be queen," he replied sitting back down.

I sat down on the couch silently, taking it all in. While I had odd feelings about marrying an elf, I understood my father had some sort of new alliance with Mirkwood, I didn't want to negatively affect that if I refused to marry the Elvenking; also I was 18 now, and I needed to marry. So I silently accepted it.

"When do I leave for Mirkwood?" I asked, getting up from my spot on the couch.

"In two days a few elf guards will be here to escort you to Mirkwood," he replied, staring into the empty fireplaces, the room getting darker.

"Two days," I whispered, before heading to my bedroom and closing the door behind me.

#thranduil fluff #thrandaddy #thranduil #thranduil x you #thranduil imagine #thranduil headcanon #thranduil fanfiction

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coneedogawa · 1 year ago

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Hot

For @heizuhaevents‘s Heizuha Week 2023 Event. This is for the prompts: Summer homework, Melting, Heat. It’s really short because I don’t have much of the energy to write but hopefully it’s at least somewhat enjoyable. : )

“It’s so hot~!” Kazuha whined. Her AC was busted and as such she’s been burning in the sun for the past 2 hours. To make matters worse, the teacher gave them extra difficult math homework to complete over their break. The heat was only making the assignment harder to complete.

Normally, she’d turn to Heiji for help completing the assignment. As much as he’d groan about how much of a bother it was, he always said yes anyways. However, this time, Heiji was busy practicing Kendo for an upcoming tournament, so he’d have no time to-

“Oi Kazuha, ya really should crank up the AC here!”

-come help her?

She turned her head to the doorway, watching him wipe his forehead to emphasize his comment. Her eyes turned into half moons as she glared at him.

“The air conditionin’s busted.”

His mouth formed a little ‘o’ as he began examining the damage. “What did ya do ta it? It’s nearly in pieces!”

Turning back to her homework, she scoffed, “I accidentally dropped it tryin’ ta get it in the window. Don’t ya have Kendo practice ta get back ta?”

“Ouch, tryin’ ta kick me out that quickly?” She chose to ignore him, focusing on the next problem.

“Kazuha?”

‘Find X. Well, there’s 5 X’s here and these 3 are squared so if I factor them out…?’

“Kazuha…”

‘Now that’s 11 X’s… Why are there so many?’

“Fine. Ignore me. I can go back ta Kendo. ‘Was just thinkin’ I’d help ya with yer homework but-” He began to walk out the door but she yanked his sleeve to pull him back.

“Wait! Please help me~!” She gave him her classic pleading eyes.

He chuckled before turning back around and crouching down next to her. “Fine.”

30 minutes passed and the heat only seemed to get worse. Heiji had abandoned his shirt about 15 minutes in and Kazuha was desperately trying to keep her eyes from wandering towards his toned chest. One thing she had come to realize as they grew older was just how physically fit her best friend was. Especially now, after years of kendo and chasing criminals. He was very… hot, to put it simply, and she was pretty sure the heat was getting to her head. It was no wonder why he had so many fans.

“Now you want to take the X and… Kazuha?” He raised an eyebrow at her as she snapped her eyes up from his body to his face and then back to the problem.

“I-I’m payin’ attention!” She yelped.

He grew concerned, placing his hand on her shoulder.. “Do ya need water? Ya look dazed.”

“I’m fine.” Her face grew red with his touch as she jerked her head away from him.

‘This idiot’

Heiji sighed as he stood and stretched his arms and legs out. “Maybe it’s best we get somewhere cooler.” As his arms raised, his chest became more prominent, catching her attention once again. She could see his muscles ripple with his stretching and his chest rising with each slow breath. Suddenly, her brain became mush again and she could no longer process anything else.

“We could go out for some ice cream or somethin’?” Being as distracted with his chest as she was, she didn’t notice his face go red as he proposed the idea.

She also didn’t notice how his face got even redder as he noticed her silence and followed her eyes to his chest.

“Uhh… Kazuha? Are ya... starin’ at my chest?” He asked nervously, almost unbelieving.

Finally her brain snapped back to attention. “H-Huh? Yer chest? I uh…” It took a minute before she fully processed his question. The red on her face grew even more vibrant as she squeaked. “N-no! I wasn’t! I was uh… lost in thought about the next few math problems! They look really tricky!” She laughed nervously.

For a moment, he seemed confused. Then his eyes grew wide in realization and started to smile, his face turning even more red. “Well… let’s just ignore the assignment for now and go get ice cream.” Without giving her time to respond he walked out of the room with a wide grin.

Kazuha stared at the open door, somewhat confused by his demeanor.

“By the way, ya were on the last problem, dumbass!” She heard him yell from downstairs.

Her eyes widened she blushed in embarrassment.

“Huh?!”

#HeiZuhaWeek2022 #heiji x kazuha #heizuha #heiji hattori #kazuha toyama #detective conan #dcmk

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2boldlyqueer · 1 year ago

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help a disabled queer fix their car this pride month (please!!)

Me (left) and my cute cat Cosmo (right) for attention

I am trying to raise $1500 to fix the transmission on my car, as it's currently undriveable. I have been out of work since early February due to a drunk driver rear-ending me while he was going 60mph. My family is helping me as much as they can, but it's going to take months to scrape this kind of money together without help, and until then I'm totally dependent on others being available when I have doctor's appointments. I haven't been able to go to physical therapy as often as I'm supposed to because of it, and I'm in a lot more pain because of it.

DONATION LINKS

Paypal https://paypal.me/tastreg

CashApp https://cash.app/$tastreg

Venmo https://account.venmo.com/u/TonyGo12

GoFundMe https://gofund.me/df8d4896

(If I happen to get incredibly lucky and get more than my goal, that money will go towards getting a new pair of glasses, since mine have been broken and held together by glue for two years now! TT-TT)

If you can’t give, please consider reblogging this post.

Thank you for reading!I hope you have a lovely day <3

More detail below the cut if you want it:

The Car

The transmission on my car is failing, and I can't drive it without fear that it'll give out any moment. There have already been a few scary moments where I thought I was going to be stuck in the middle of the road. I was able to get to the mechanic and get a quote, I need $1500 to fix the issue. (And that was before a second issue popped up on the way home, so it’s possible it’ll be more.)

Where I live, it's impossible to get anywhere without a car, so I'm really stuck and relying on the kindness of others to get me to my doctor's appointments, since I also can't afford taxis, plus Uber/Lyft don't service around here. This has already caused issues, as I've had to cut back on my physical therapy appointments due to not being able to get to them, and I've been doing a lot worse since then.

My Health & Monetary Situation

I've been unable to work since early February, as I've been recovering from a major accident, where I was rear-ended by a drunk driver. The car I had then was completely totalled; thankfully his insurance paid out just enough to get another cheap, used car. I've been dealing with major pain and health issues since. Pain and spasms in my hips and legs make it difficult to stand, sit, or walk for any amount of time. Multiple vertebrae throughout my spine are out of place, which cause a ton of constant pain and unpredictably variable numbness that makes my arms and hands useless when it happens.

My work prior to the accident involves a lot of lifting and carrying, as well as repairs that require full control of my hands, so I haven't been able to return to it. I've actually picked up a new job remotely tutoring due to monetary needs, but it doesn't offer much in the way of hours and is difficult with the on-and-off brain fog and fatigue I've been experiencing since the accident. I'm in the process of being assessed for post-concussive syndrome because of that and new difficulties with language & numbers (which are driving me up the wall, I love writing and now I have to really work at it. This thing took me multiple days to write out when normally it would've taken me about half an hour.)

My credit cards are all maxed out from my last health crisis in 2021 and my credit score is too low to get another credit card right now. I'm just barely scraping by on lost wages from insurance and help from my family. Unfortunately, they can't support me any more than they already are, as we’re all straddling the poverty line and live in areas with high costs of living. I do have a civil suit pending against the man who hit me, but I don't expect that to resolve for at least a few months.

Thank you so much if you took the time to read all that. I really hope you consider donating -- even a dollar will help! Whether you donate or not, please consider sharing, it would really help me out. I hope you have a wonderful day! <3 To reward you for reading all that, have another cat pic :3

#mutual aid #donations #please donate #signal boost #please signal boost #help

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rose-of-the-grave · 11 months ago

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Finally

Pairing: Lily x James

Modern AU

Merry (early) Christmas everybody!!! Here's the final part of The Pact. I finished this earlier than expected so here's an early Christmas present!!! I hope you enjoy! I'm the author (please don't repost) <3

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 4 Read on Ao3

Warnings: kissing, miscommunication, meddling friends, new years

Word Count: 2,923

Description: When the group needs to leave early it seems as if James won't be able to clear up their misunderstanding but maybe with some help they will finally have an actual conversation.

Taglist: @sylveryfire

“Get up Prongs!”

James felt someone jump on him. It was Sirius. No surprise there. It was an old habit of his from their time as roommates and even before that when Sirius came to live with him and his family.

“Can’t get up with you on top of me.” He grumbled.

Sirius rolled over to lay next to him on the bed.

“Get up! We’re leaving in a few hours.”

“What? I thought we weren’t leaving until tomorrow?”

From across the room, Remus responded from where he leaned against the doorframe, sipping some warm beverage. “There was an emergency with Neville. Alice needs to get home. Her husband took him to the hospital but she really wants to be there with him as soon as possible.”

If he wasn’t fully awake already, now he was. He sat up and looked over at his things. He hadn’t brought much. He could be ready to go in a few minutes. Maybe, just maybe, James could get away with sleeping for another half hour. The rest of their group would need to pack and make breakfast. That could easily take an hour given Marlene’s proclivity for sleeping like the dead. He had heard enough stories of her sleeping through fire alarms and people yelling at her to wake up to know that she wouldn’t be up any time soon.

“Oh no. I know that look. You are not sleeping in!” Sirius warned.

“But…”

“Nope. No buts. Everybody is up and eating breakfast, you’re the last one up for once.”

“Even Marlene?”

“Yeah, she couldn’t sleep so she was one of the first to be ready when Alice got the call.”

“Ugh. Okay, fine. I’ll get up.” He pulled the blankets off and stood up. Walking towards the bathroom, he rubbed his face in an attempt to dislodge the fog of sleep from his gaze.

He brushed his teeth and changed into some actual clothes, preparing for yet another long car ride. James just knew that this one was going to be even more uncomfortable than the first. At least with that one they mostly could ignore each other. It’s not like anyone was paying attention to them.

But after last night he was steeling himself for Lily pretending he didn’t even exist. He wasn’t even sure how this would work considering they were supposed to be dating for a few more days before breaking things off. Maybe this would work. If they thought they were having problems it would make their eventual breakup seem more reasonable and might limit their questions.

At least for a moment he had felt like maybe this didn’t have to be just for show, maybe she would give him a second chance. Now they wouldn’t be able to talk until they all got home and even then he doubted she would talk to him.

James had liked Lily since the moment they met in the bookshop. He had stopped by to talk to Remus about something only to find a gorgeous woman with long, red hair standing behind the front desk. His hair had been wet from running through the rain without an umbrella or raincoat, the droplets running down his face and neck. But he didn’t feel cold. The heat of her gaze was enough. He’d said that very thing to her, causing her to laugh and call him cheesy.

“That may be so but you still laughed.”

“Because you look ridiculous. You’re not even wearing a coat and your shirt is soaked.” she shook her head fondly. “Go on, stand by the fireplace or you’ll catch a cold.”

He did, but he still couldn’t tear his gaze away from her.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

She turned to look over at him from where she stood behind the computer and said, “Lily.”

“That’s a beautiful name.”

She arched an eyebrow at him.

“What?” He asked.

“I don’t think I’ve heard anyone say that without immediately following it with a ‘so is that your favorite flower or something?’.”

“Oh shoot, I was just about to ask that!” He said, a grin on his face.

“Really?”

“No. But I was going to ask if you have plans tonight.”

She smiled.

“As it so happens I do.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s with this new customer who wears glasses, doesn’t ask stupid questions, and has a proclivity for running in the rain with no jacket apparently.”

He smiled in relief, “Wonder who that could be.”

They looked at each other and started laughing.

“So what time should I pick you up?”

“Well I get off work at six so how about then?”

“Works for me!” He headed towards the desk and then continued past it. When he was at the door he said, “I’ll see you at six.”

James opened the door and walked back out into the rain. He had almost reached the end of the block when he heard a bell ring and Lily called out, “Wait! You never told me your name!”

He turned to look at her. “It’s James!”

“See you later James!”

“You too Lily!”

They smiled at each other and waved before she returned to her desk and he walked around the corner. It wasn’t until then that he remembered why he had even been there. He was supposed to give Remus the tickets to the show he wanted to take Sirius to. James figured he could just stop by their place and leave them on his desk.

That night they had gone out to eat and afterwards he had leaned in for a kiss. It had started off soft and slow before increasing in its intensity. After a minute or two she pulled away with a smile.

“Thanks for tonight James.”

“Can I see you tomorrow?” He asked.

“Sure.”

It was only later that she had decided that maybe it would be better for them to be friends. Lily was busy with graduate school and her job whereas James also had his own job. That didn’t stop him from flirting with her, nor did it stop her from flirting back. In the end they had only gone on one date and it had been magical.

A month or so later she met Snape and all of a sudden they weren’t talking. He had thought that all had been in the past and that she could see that he wasn’t that person but he respected her decision to distance herself. What hurt most was that she had decided to date someone else when she had said it would be too difficult to date him.

James understood that it was a bit easier because they were both in the same program and had the same classes but even still. It was hard watching them together.

Then they broke up and she still wasn’t talking to him.

When she first came up to him in that restaurant and asked him to be her fake boyfriend he thought that this could be his chance to convince her that he wasn’t the same guy he was when he was in school. He had changed for the better.

He stuffed his clothes into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Looking around he spotted Lily’s stuff. She was probably waiting for him to vacate the room before packing.

Walking downstairs he was surprised to see everyone calmly eating breakfast. Someone had made pancakes. He dropped his bag by the bottom of the stairs and walked over to the table.

“Morning.”

Lily’s eyes shot to his before she pushed away from the table and brushed past him on her way upstairs.

Ignoring his friends’ puzzled looks, he stacked some pancakes on a plate and poured syrup over them. He sat down and dug in, the pancakes were absolutely delicious.

“So what was that about?” Marlene asked.

“What?”

“You didn’t even acknowledge each other. Did something happen last night? I could have sworn she slept down here. What did you do?”

“Nothing! I was just snoring and it was hard for her to sleep, that’s all.”

“And this morning?”

“She just wanted to get packed.” He shrugged. If Lily wanted to tell her friend what happened then she could come clean about everything if she wanted. It wasn’t his place.

His friends still looked a bit suspicious but they were quickly distracted when Alice came out of one of the other rooms, phone in hand.

“Oh good. You’re up James.”

“Yeah. How’s Neville?”

“Frank says he drank some cleaning chemicals out of a water bottle he was cleaning. He has no idea how much he drank so he took him to the emergency room just to be safe.”

“It’ll be okay,” Remus comforted, “We can leave as soon as Lily gets done packing. If she hurries we can get you to the hospital before dinner time.”

She smiled sadly. Her eyes are red and puffy from crying. It must be difficult to know her son is in trouble and not be able to do anything.

Lily came down the stairs, carrying her suitcase.

“I’m ready to go.”

“Great, I’ll go start the car and scrape the snow off of the windows.” Sirius said, getting up and walking outside while still pulling on a coat.

James hurried to finish his food and stood up, throwing the paper plate in the trash.

They all moved towards the door, carrying what little they still hadn’t put in the car. James grabbed his bag, put on his coat and shoes before walking outside. The cold air bit at his face. Rushing towards the car, he hopped in.

Remus took shotgun, Lily and Alice sat in the seats behind him and Sirius, which left James, Marlene, and Dorcas to try and fit all together in the very back.

Pulling out of the driveway, James hoped that the roads would all be cleared enough for driving or else this was going to be a very long trip. Thankfully they made good time, only stopping once to grab some lunch.

The sky was getting darker by the time they got off of the freeway and it was almost completely dark by the time they reached the hospital. Alice hopped out and grabbed her things, thanking them for a fun trip before rushing into the hospital to find her husband.

He hoped everything went well.

After dropping Alice off, they drove to Marlene’s apartment where Dorcas had left her car. They both got out of the car and then Sirius finally reached Lily’s.

Lily got out, grabbed her bag, and said goodbye to both Sirius and Remus, not even looking in James’ direction. He watched her walk away as Sirius continued to James’ place.

“Well, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you!”

“Bye James.”

“So, what happened?”

“What?” Lily asked.

“With you and James, silly.” Marlene responded. “You two were all over each other and then right before we left yesterday you totally gave him the cold shoulder.” “Did not!”

“Did so!”

Lily sighed and took a sip of her wine. Maybe going over to Marlene’s tonight was a bad idea.

“So are you two still together?”

Lily realized that she should probably come clean. She hated lying to her best friend. If she told her now then maybe she would at least be able to tell her what really happened.

“Truth is, we were never together.”

“What?!”

Ashamed, Lily looked away for a moment.

“Yeah, that night in the restaurant I asked him if he would be my fake boyfriend so you would stop trying to help me find someone.”

“Oh honey. You could have just told me to stop.”

“I did. I guess I figured if I pretended to date James and then we broke up then you would forget about it. We were going to break up a few days after the trip.”

“Then what happened?”

“I got a bit drunk and kissed him. He pushed me off and I went to sleep on the couch downstairs. And the worst part is, earlier I was talking about giving him a second chance. We could actually try dating. And then he just rejected me!”

“Oh my god. Lily, you idiot.”

Lily looked up at her friend, “What?”

Marlene was staring at her in disbelief. “He didn’t reject you, you dumbass! He didn’t want you to do anything while drunk that you would later regret and hate him for.”

“Fuck!” She looked at her friend. “I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“How am I going to apologize? He must think I hate him. There’s no way he’ll listen to me now.”

“Weren’t you both supposed to go to Remus and Sirius’ place for Christmas tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“He’ll probably be there so why don’t you go and apologize then.”

“That’s actually a great idea!”

“You don’t need to seem so surprised.”

‘Oh, stop!”

Marlene smiled at her friend. Little did Lily know that this was all going according to her plan.

Lily pulled up to the house and felt relieved when she saw James’ car. Hopefully he’d give her the chance to apologize for her behavior.

She walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. When there was no answer, she tried the door handle. It was unlocked.

Inside there were a lot of people, some she knew, others she didn’t. She spotted Remus and made her way over to him.

“Hey.”

“Hey Lily, you came!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She smiled. The music was so loud she could feel her eardrums vibrating. “Hey, have you seen James?”

“No. You guys didn’t come together?”

She shook her head. He looked at her questioningly but said nothing.

Scanning the crowd for him, her gaze finally landed on Sirius. Maybe he would know where James was.

He didn’t.

Growing restless, she decided to look in some of the rooms. Eventually she reached the small library that Remus had cultivated. There was a book of his that she had been meaning to borrow but hadn’t gotten around to it. She walked along one of the bookshelves and, not seeing it, went around to the other side of the shelf only to walk straight into someone.

“I’m so sorry!”

The person turned around to face her.

“James.” She breathed.

“Lily.”

“Hi.” She smiled awkwardly.

“Hey.” He brought one of his hands up to scratch the back of his neck.

Neither of them could meet the other’s gaze for more than a few seconds.

“About before…” James started before pausing.

She looked at him questioningly.

“At the cabin?” She prompted.

“Yeah.”

“I know.”

He finally looked up into her eyes. She smiled softly.

“I should have explained.” He said.

“And I shouldn’t have left so abruptly.”

“Do you think that maybe we could try it again? Now that you’re not drunk?”

“Yeah, I think I could manage that.”

He leaned down slowly. Losing patience she reached up and pulled him in for a kiss. A very long awaited kiss.

Lily pulled away.

“And for the record I was not drunk!”

He swept her up in yet another kiss. It didn’t matter anymore because here they were. Finally on the same page.

The kiss was unfortunately cut short by several people clapping.

Pulling away, they turned to look at their friends.

“I told you!” Marlene crowed.

“What?” Lily asked.

“Remember when I said that Alice and I were going to set you up with someone? We actually already had somebody in mind.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. James.” Alice said.

Lily looked over at James before turning back to her friends.

“Oh and Sirius and Remus were in on it too.” Marlene said.

“It was clear that you like Lily.” Remus shrugged.

“And we all thought that Lily might be willing to give you a chance if she had the opportunity to see you in a different light. I mean she really liked you before she and Snape started dating. We all thought that maybe a blind date would help you both find your way back to when you went on that date.” Marlene explained. “And then the two of you said that you were dating so we just didn’t question it too much because it was what we had hoped would happen.”

Sirius continued Marlene’s thought, “Until that morning at the cabin. We were all so distracted by Alice needing to get home that we kind of forgot about it but then you confessed to Marlene that you weren’t actually dating James and we all sort of decided to get you both to this party so you would be forced to work it out.”

“Wow.” James exclaimed. “So we both basically walked straight into your plan without knowing it.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Marlene shrugged.

Lily and James looked at each other and sighed. Their friends were meddlesome but they loved them.

“Come on, let’s go back out to the party.” Marlene urged.

“We’ll be there in a second!” James called.

Marlene winked at Lily before walking out of the library, arm in arm with Alice. Sirius and Remus left right behind them.

“Oh, and James?” Sirius said.

“Yeah?”

“There’s a guest room right next door.” He grinned.

James picked up one of the pillows from a reading chair and threw it at his best friend.

He turned back to Lily.

“So…where were we?” Lily asked suggestively.

“Right about here.” He said, leaning down to kiss her neck, just below her ear.

They still had things to figure out but they were going to be okay.

#jily #jily fic #jily fanfiction #james potter #lily evans #lily potter #lily evans potter #marauders #christmas #merry christmas #rose of the grave

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h4zardousch3micals · 1 year ago

Text

Performance of a lifetime - 2

First • Previous • Next

Heyyy look who wrote a thing again! I've only got two things to say this time:

1) Aaaaaa thank you Caldin and Mew for your incredibly kind words <3 <3 <3

2) Yes I will be throwing in a bunch of oc's I can justify to you why it's crucial for the narrative but I won't because teehee spoilers

——

"THIS IS TOO HARD! I CAN'T DO IT!" Plixie howled. In a fit of juvenile rage, they flung the juggling balls across the room, causing a few to rebound and come flying back their direction. They ducked - wings fluttering desperately - to avoid the onslaught but a few still hit them with a loud 'BONK!'

"Please, just try again." Leyera muttered, not even looking up from her current task: untangling an extremely matted string of fairy lights.

"NO! I DON'T WANNA!" The plasma monster thrashed furiously in midair, before landing specifically to stomp their foot on the ground like an angry bunny. A few frustrated tears leaked from their wide eyes.

The little temper tantrum was enough to get the gloptic's full attention, "I swear, Plixie, you are driving me up the wall..."

"Look, how about I demonstrate it for you again? Here..." They dropped the mound of knotted lights and psychically levitated the juggling balls into their grasp. They were able to throw and catch at least five of them simultaneously without even looking, "See how I'm doing this scooping motion when I toss it? Try doing that."

This only seemed to upset Plixie even more, "IT'S NOT FAIR, LEYERA! YOUR ARMS ARE LONGER!"

"You can fly!" Leyera protested, pressing one tentacle to her closed eye in her equivalent of a facepalm. She exhaustedly muttered to herself, "...I spent all last night working myself half to death because our only other fortune-teller Tye-dye left the show, and this is the thanks I get?"

"What's a fortune-teller?" Plixie tilted their head to one side and their eyes glittered with curiosity, apparently that was the only part of her angry little rant they actually heard.

"I've explained it to you before..?" They grumbled.

"Yeah, but I wanna hear it again."

"I will never understand little kids..." She shook her head to clear it and begrudgingly elaborated, "A fortune-teller is a monster who can tell other monsters what will happen to them in the future and tell that what they should do about it."

"Woah!" Plixie's wings flapped excitedly, "How do you do that?!"

The magical monster seemed a bit less bothered by the injustices of the world now that they were discussing something familiar to them, "Well, there's lots of different ways. There's looking into crystal balls, there's tracking the movement of the stars, I specialise in palm reading, kind of ironic since I don't have any but, heh..."

"Cool! Cool!" They squeaked, hopping about as though this was the most fascinating information they had ever heard. Then, an idea crossed their mind and their face lit up, "Can you tell me MY future?"

"Uh, sorry kid, but I'm really not supposed to, Fennec's orders." She muttered. Fennec had been firm (well, as firm as Fennec can be) that she was under strict orders to only use her psychic powers for those who approached her booth during opening hours, lest she drain her magical energy stores.

"PLEASE!" Plixie took flight again and hovered as close to the Gloptic's eye as possible, hoping that their adorable face would persuade them.

"Come on, not the puppy-dog eyes..." Leyera protested. They had always had a hard time not giving in to the puppy-dog eyes...

"PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!"

"Okay, okay: I'll do it!" She threw her tentacles up in the air in defeat, "...If you promise to practice some more afterwards."

"Deal!" They nodded profusely.

"Deal, give me your hand," Plixie's palm was so small, it was hard for Leyera to find any of the tell-tale lines they used to predict fortunes, "Oh, wow, it's so tiny!"

"Hehehe!" The plasma monster giggled, having already forgotten about their earlier upset.

"Hmm, well, this line here tells me that you express your emotions freely." She said, pointing to a long line across their entire palm.

"What does that mean?" They tilted their head to one side.

"It means that you like to say how you feel and don't try to hide it," She replied.

"Oh! Oh oh oh! Yeah! That sounds like me!"

"You don't say?" They rolled their eye, then turned their attention to a curving, sloped line in the middle of their hand, "And this one, this one tells me that you're very creative."

"And this one..." Leyera went froze as though she were a robot that had ran out of battery. For a few moments, they stared blankly ahead as though gazing into a distant future - a future not at all pleasant.

"What? What does it mean?!"

"It... It doesn't mean anything important," They eventually admitted, looking away.

Plixie folded their arms again and stomped a little more, "Aww, that's boring! You should make it something cooler!"

"What? That's not how it works—"

"Please! I wanna be a big, strong monster that can destroy entire islands!"

"That isn't..." She grumbled, "Ugh, fine. This line says that you'll one day be a big, strong monster that can destroy entire islands. Now can we please go back to juggling like you promised?"

"Nooo... Ugh, fine..."

—

It was late, long past closing time. A pale moon hung gloomily amongst the glittering stars like a giant spotlight. Hardly a monster seemed to stir, until...

"You're just being hysterical!" The voice was distant and muffled - almost impossible to decipher - and yet the pure, bitter disgust in their tone was enough to make the voice seem as loud as thunder.

"Huh..?" Syncopite drearily sat up, blinking rapidly to quell their sleepiness. They had already been struggling to properly get some rest, and the occasional faint argument sound was doing them no favours - but now their curiosity was piqued.

Driven by intrigue, they got up and waddled over to their friend's room and knocked once... twice... No response.

"Pppsst, Hornacle, can you hear that?" They whispered, pushing the door open with their foot.

Hornacle was silent for a few moments, before slowly murmuring, "Ugh... No, Soxy, I don't want to eat the vegetables..."

Oh. She's sleep-talking. Looks like they're gonna have to figure this one out alone...

They slowly followed the source of the noise; every tiny little creak or thud made them flinch. Eventually as the noises got closer, it became apparent that there were two monsters speaking and they were arguing intensely. Thinking quickly, they dashed behind a nearby storage create so they wouldn't be spotted.

"I'm telling you, I know what I saw!" The first voice insisted: weary yet stern, "That line, it's not good! It can only mean..."

"Leyera, I know your fortune-telling is very important to you, but you can't let it dictate what we do around here..." The other replied. Syncopite knew that voice well, it was Fennec.

They slowly peeked out from behind the box, eventually spotting the two older monsters standing under the light of a single lamp. The air was thick with tension: Leyera seemed both furious and anxious while Fennec was somehow even more frightened than he usually was.

"Very important? Very important?! It's more than 'very important', Fennec, it's my entire life!"

Fennec flinched, pressing his body low to the ground. His ears were pinned back and his tail was between his legs. He quietly replied, "I know, but Audrey says..."

"No! Listen to me!" She snarled, "I've been doing this for years! Over a decade, even. I know my way around a palm reading, and the future is not bright for that kid!"

Both went quiet again, glaring at eachother bitterly as though they could break into a fight at any moment. Fennec trembled wildly, his fur standing on end like a frightened cat; Leyera stared at him with a strange, almost pleading look in her eye.

Eventually, he worked up the courage to say, "Leyera, I'm going to be as gentle as possible when I say this but you're acting crazy. Maybe you just read it wrong, or maybe it isn't accurate because it's not real—"

"OH REALLY?! I'M THE ONE ACTING CRAZY WHEN YOU THINK THOSE KIDS ARE G—"

"Stop fighting! Please!" Syncopite bolted out of their hiding space and hurled themselves between the monsters in a desperate attempt to shield one or both should things get worse.

"Syncopite?!" "Kid?!" They both yelled at the same time.

"I..." Unable to quickly think of an explanation, Syncopite looked down at their stubby feet, "I don't like it when monsters fight."

Fennec was the first to react, approaching the crystal monster and patting them with a colourful paw. It felt a little condescending, but it was better than nothing.

"Oh, we weren't fighting, sweetheart." He soothed, eager to quell the tension in the air, "We were just having a... friendly discussion."

"A friendly discussion about how you won't heed my warnings..." Leyera muttered ominously.

"Yes, that... Look, it doesn't concern you, kid. You should go back to sleep."

"But—" They couldn't just leave it at that! Clearly both monsters were very passionate about the issue - it needed to be resolved!

Fennec whipped his head around to stare at the Glopitc, shivering slightly, "See, Leyera? You're frightening the poor things!"

"What? I didn't mean to, I—" They sighed defeatedly, slumping to the point where it looked as though they might melt into an exhausted puddle at any moment, "...Fine. Syncopite? Fennec? I'm sorry. I was wrong. I won't bring it up again."

"But you were just-" Syncopite protested, baffled.

"I know, but I was wrong. Please, it's too late for this..."

"But—"

"No buts!" With a flick of her two-toned feeler, Leyera effortlessly lifted the crystal monster into the air with their psychic powers.

"Wh— HEY! PUT ME DOWN!" Syncopite squealed as the ground seemed to disappear underneath them. Their stubby legs flailed uselessly in midair and the magnetic stones that usually floated peacefully around them spun as though they were caught in a tornado. They hated every second of it: they couldn't get away, they couldn't run, they couldn't hide!

"Leyera! Stop it!" Fennec cried, trying to sound firm but stuttering and stammering the whole way through, "What's wrong with you?"

Leyera hesitated, but she didn't have the energy to argue back anymore and just let them go, careful to levitate the crystal monster gently to the ground instead of dropping them, "Yes. Sorry, Fennec. I'm an awful monster."

He didn't rebute their claim.

"Come on, Syncopite," Fennec instructed. He padded quietly towards the exit and beckoned the little monster, "It's late."

Syncopite's need to obey their trainer overrid their courage, but their little mind still swam with questions as they hobbled after him, "But, wait! What about—?"

"Leyera realised the error of their ways and apologized. There is nothing more to discuss." He replied, crimson eyes dull and weary with tiredness.

Syncopite wanted to object, but they had a feeling that any complaint they had would be quickly dismissed. Maybe they were overthinking this; maybe they were wrong; maybe it would just be for the best to not think about it any longer...

They didn't dare utter a word as the ethereal monster ushered them back to their room, leaving an uncomfortable silence as Fennec's paws hardly made a sound on the cold floor.

"Remember, we only want what's best for you." He muttered as he shuffled away, leaving Syncopite to try and get back to sleep despite their racing thoughts. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day... Hopefully...

#My singing monsters #Msm #Performance of a lifetime AU #Arrow Authors #Notes for people who read the tags:#Look I figured out how to write my guy Syncopite in!#.#I love Fennec he's such a lil baby #..#I tried to use both she and they equally when referring to Leyera sorry if it's confusing #...#Idk if I made it clear enough but Leyera does NOT believe that the Celestials are actually reincarnated gods #I'll get into it more later but it's my hc that the Magical Islands developed very different ideas about monster history #Because they were isolated from the rest of the world for so long #Most notably Psychic Island is majority atheist

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