#and i would write them again if asked (and if i did a good job ofc asdgfhtr)

[suempu]

How about a blind reader and thistle

Like thistle met them by accident and now they just keep them around because reader makes them happy

gn + human, mage reader + can be platonic or not

<3

first off all, he’s fucking confused cause how the hell did you even end up in the dungeon? thistle first finds out about your existence when you accidentally stumble upon him after his confrontation with laios’ party.

he immediately puts up his guard when he hears your footsteps before you gasp in surprise.

“hello! wow, i didn’t think there would be another person down this deep...” you smile, staff clicking on the stone tiles.

he’s taken aback before asking you questions warily, to which he finds out you had some sort of echolocation ability. you have no clue that he had a sour expression on his face, assuming he only had a gruff voice from the aggressive way he talks.

you normally go dungeon crawling with your party but decided to walk around while they recuperate on the floor above. honestly, how did you even survive? what kind of idiot decides to take a casual walk in a dungeon? on the floor the red dragon was, no less. thistle thinks. you were lucky you missed it.

the two of you sit after you’ve offered him some food and snacks from your pack. he tried to refuse but you just kept on insisting.

thistle is interested in the foggy look in your eyes, unabashedly staring at your face after finding out you couldn’t see him.

you both sit on the floor as you munch on your bread, occasionally asking him questions and making conversation.

after that night, he’s curious about your whereabouts and everything about you, oftentimes sending out a creature to spy observe you. its been a long time since he has found good company, and to be completely honest, he’s lonely.

thistle came to know that your party has disbanded after eavesdropping with his creatures, the members finding different jobs and passions.

to your surprise, he appears again while you’re out camping on the second floor. you smile once you realize its your mysterious friend, eagerly offering him soup he couldn’t taste and a space for sleeping which he didn’t need. but he thanks you nonetheless.

thistle finds peace around you, the only person he could call a companion after so many years of isolation. if he’s in a decent mood, he’ll bring out his lute to play tunes while you hum.

conversations with you are enjoyable, you both find a good harmony of back and forth, discussing various topics such as nature, magic, and his hobbies.

“you write poems? that’s amazing. read it to me sometime?”

“i’m not sure you’d like it. it’d probably make you cry.”

you smile assuredly. “i’m sure it’s great! don’t sell yourself short!”

“you’re facing the wrong way. i’m on your left.”

“oh!”

you two grow closer once he lets you touch his face. the curiosity of what he looked like came out in a question as you whisper it to him unsurely.

thistle is hesitant at first, but your amazed gasps and the gentle touches of your palm against his cheek made his heart ache. how long has it been since someone had held him? talked to him? how long has he went without the softness and comfort of another being?

you caress his eyelids, nose, and ears while smiling, committing the feeling of his face to your mind.

“you’re beautiful. thank you for trusting me enough to do that.”

“how do you know? that i’m beautiful.” he murmurs, looking at the floor in contempt.

“i can feel it.” with a hand on your chest, you tell him wholeheartedly.

thistle allows himself to laugh, reaching out to tilt your chin at his direction. “you’re looking the wrong way again.”

you pout, “well, i can’t look or see at all, mind you!”

#thistle x reader #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #dunmeshi #thistle #thistle dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi thistle

[twinsarekeepers]

do you genuinely think people who draw/write book annabeth are racist?

This could be a disingenuous ask but okay, I’ll bite and answer honestly.

First of all, “book” Annabeth can be black. That is how I see her and have seen her even before the show casting was announced. A lot of people reading the books now see Annabeth as Leah. Everyone has a different interpretation of Annabeth’s physical characteristics in the books and to try and say “book” Annabeth is synonymous with “white” Annabeth is wrong.

(And no you cannot use the book description or official art as an excuse. Rick is awful with consistent physical descriptions. Multiple characters have changed hair color and eye color throughout the series. The official art has literally been changed twice. The recent book had no physical descriptions of the characters and was literally dedicated to Walker, Leah, and Aryan. Rick has also said that when writing the characters now, he sees those three kids as them. This is not me defending Rick, because he’s still a coward that plays both sides of this, but if you want to say the book character is white then that is simply wrong now. She, at the very least, is ambiguous enough for everyone to choose what she looks like. There is no definitive “book” Annabeth now.)

“Book” Annabeth and “TV” Annabeth are the same character. There are no significant personality or backstory changes between the book and the show character that can justify separating the two of them like that. The only reason people are separating them is because they want to hold onto to the white version of the character. (I know there’s going to be stupid people with no media literacy who don’t know how adaptations work in my mentions “explaining” the differences, but no. The show has done a very good job at taking the character on the page and finding ways that are suitable for the screen to depict the same characteristics).

Before y’all say that people do this with TV Percy and book Percy too: it did not start that way. “Book” and “TV” Annabeth began when the show was in production, before anyone could even see how the show would handle Annabeth’s character. When some of us pointed that out, people started trying to separate “book” Percy and “TV” Percy. It was literally a tactic to hide their racist intentions. (And again, there are not enough differences between the book and tv show character to justify this separation, especially when this started happening BEFORE the show even released to the public).

So that’s a little context to how this separation even started. I know what y’all are going to say. “But just because it started as racist, doesn’t mean it’s racist now!” And to that I say, sure, but that’s not the case here.

White Annabeth fanart has been consistently used to hate on Leah, a real girl. We all know how much Leah has been getting harassed and bullied for her role as Annabeth and when her casting was announced, people used fanart to discredit her. Artists who continued to draw white Annabeth refused to monitor their comments and they were filled with people hating on Leah’s casting. Not only that, but artists who started drawing Annabeth as black would get hateful messages and comments as well. Accounts were going as far to take fanart of Leah’s Annabeth and whitewashing it (and then putting it in the leahisourannabeth tag). This is still happening today. You can find comments under fanart of Walker and Leah’s percabeth saying “I prefer the originals” or “the originals are better”. That’s very obviously racism.

For this reason, we started saying to stop drawing and writing white Annabeth. It’s being used in a direct and tangible way to harass a real young girl. If enough people in the fandom refuse to engage with white Annabeth then the hate will significantly decrease. There are the obvious excuses to this: “people will be racist no matter what so what’s the point of even trying?” That’s not true. Racists are cowards, especially people who harass children. They are emboldened only by others. If they see people continuing to support the separation between the book and show characters, and drawing white Annabeth fanart, they’re going to DO racist things like get Leah’s account banned on tiktok.

And this is where the active racism occurs. People know that this harassment is happening and that the fanart that they produce is going to be used to harass Leah. Instead of deciding that they’ll do their part to lessen that harassment, no matter how small that is, they decide that engaging with white Annabeth fanart is more important. They can say that they condemn what’s happening to Leah and that it’s not their responsibility what people do with their fanart, but that still makes the action racist.

Y’all say that you condemn what’s happening to Leah, but then when given the tools to help lessen it, you refuse to do it. All because you want to hold on to a white version of a character. You spend more time defending that choice than going into your own mentions and deleting any and every comment that may become hostile to the kids, especially Leah. That is racism.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjotv #pjo tv show #percabeth #annabeth chase #leah sava jeffries #walker scobell #aryan simhadri #leah is our annabeth #leah is the only annabeth #protect black girls #my asks

[penwieldingdreamer]

Grandpa said Austin is a City

Thank you so much for all your likes and rebloggs. I have just recently found my way into the fandom and holy smokes I'm super happy about it. I hope I can do this justice and you'll like what I've come up with. This is the start of something, not a chapter story but I guess a one shot series featuring snippets from Austin's and the reader's life. I tried to keep the appearance and description of the reader as vauge as possible, so you guys will be able to come up with your own picture for the reader. Only thing that I picture while writing, it's a female reader, living in London with her british mother and american father, single mother of two girls Lottie (5) and Millie (3), and two years older than Austin. I wanted to explore that a bit.

Summary: Your daughter is curious about her father, knowing that you always had been the Three Musketeers but then you meet Austin in Hyde Park after your daughter has a run in with the ground. You know, you don't want a relationship, but friendship is a nice start as well. Words: 3k Warnings: fluff, some sware words, maybe a few tippos - if so, please let me know

Now with no further ado - enjoy. And please let me know what you think.

Feb. 2022

“Mummy?” Lottie, your four, nearly five year old called from the living area where she had been watching her favorite cartoons. You saw her gaze fixed on the TV,  a family of four embracing as they finally found each other again. “Do we have a daddy, too?” 

Taking a deep breath, you put the pan down you had just been cleaning. Moving to sit down next to her you were glad Millie was still down for her nap. “Of course, baby, but sometimes Mummies and daddies don’t work out, so there aren’t always two parents.”

“Do you want a daddy to help out so you're not alone anymore?”

Swallowing against the tight feeling in your throat, you pulled your daughter against your side. “What gave you that impression? I thought us girls were the Three Musketeers. Did someone say something at school?”

Lottie shook her head, her blonde curls swinging about her head like ringlets of spun gold. “Nope, but granny said we're a lot to handle on your own and that she'd love to see you have a man in your life again.”

Rolling your eyes, you brushed your hand through her hair. Of course your mother would love nothing more than the idea of a man in your life and the prospect of another grandchild. She loved your girls to death but sometimes she didn't know when to shut up. “Your granny doesn't know what she's saying. Sometimes she's just acting silly.”

“Well, I'd like a daddy someday. Lucy from school said she has two daddies. One is her real daddy and the other one is married to her mummy, but he's not her bi-bigolicl daddy.”

“Biological, honey, and well, sometimes that's how families work.”

Nodding her little head, she turned back to the cartoons and you were left with the aftermath of that conversation. Your ex had left you when Millie was a few months old and since then you were a single mother with two jobs.

Of course you’d want nothing more than a man in your life again, but most often the biggest problem was that they didn’t like you having kids so they didn’t want to be bothered with your plus twos, sometimes the guys were too young for you and other times men were just idiots.

With a sigh you decided to wait for Millie to wake up and take the girls outside. A stroll in the park might do them good and maybe you could have a talk with your own mother to keep these topics for herself.

“What's going on, darling?” Your mum asked, pushing Millies's stroller as you made your way through Hyde Park. The weather had been a bit better now in February, but still cold enough to freeze hands and noses off. You hated it, yet the summer heat of Texas was worse, so you were glad for the little miracles in life. Bundled up, you guys decided that after you'd have a nice cuppa near the Italian Gardens. Your mother loved their pastries.

“Why did you tell Lottie I needed a man?” Your eldest was running a few feet in front of you, the wool bauble on her hat wobbling with every step she took. “We were doing okay until now. She asked about her dad and you know I don't want to talk about him.”

She breathed out a sigh, grabbing your hand. “I'm sorry, darling. You know I didn't mean anything by it, it was just me being silly again.”

“Granny silly.” Millie squealed, throwing her little legs about with a laugh, clapping her hands in delight, though muffled by the gloves she wore.

“Yes, granny is silly, just wants your mummy to be happy again.” your mother said, juggling the stroller slightly to make her squeal some more. 

You knew she was just trying to look out for you. “I'm an adult, mum, I can handle the girls and my job. I don't”

“MUMMY!”

Your blood froze, your head whipping around so fast you heard the bones in your neck crack. Lottie's cry sounded muffled in your ears, but your body moved on autopilot. 

Your girl was up in the arms of a strange man, crying her eyes out and calling for you.

“Let go of my daughter!” Your call startled the man and he turned towards you. “I'm warning you, I'll be calling the police.”

With a look back towards your mother, you already knew she was just about to do that. Strangers were picking up kids left and right and you would not be the parent that had to file a missing person report for her five year old who was snatched Right from under your nose.

“Woah, jeeze.” He called, his voice sending shivers down your spine before your glare turned on him again, watching as he set Lottie down, putting his hands up in surrender. “I'm sorry, really, there's no need. I saw her fall and tried to calm her down when she cried.”

You pulled your daughter into your arms, hugging her tight and trying to calm her down, your eyes never leaving his face - although you had to admit, this guy had a nice one.

Deep blue eyes, angled jaw, dark gold stubble…

No, nope. Don't go there.

“You okay, baby?”

“I-I fell. And it hurt really bad and then-then Aus helped me up. But it h-hurts so bad and I just wanted you.” Her hiccups and tears made her body jump in your arms. 

“Who's Aus, Lottie?”

Rubbing the tears from her eyes with a tiny fist, you wouldn't have been surprised if she gave you one of her famous eye-rolls before an exasperated sigh left her little mouth. “Him.” 

You followed her pointed finger and looked into the face of the guy - well, probably man, but yeah - you yelled at only a few moments before. He held up his hand in a two lingered wave with a sheepish smile adorning his full lips.

“He said his name is Austin, but I told him that's a city in Texas. It's where grandpa’s from. So he said I could call him Aus.” She shrugged her shoulders.

Your lips pressed into a tight line, and yet ready to chew him out when your mother stopped behind you. “Oh darling, that was really nice of you. She's a bit of a know-it-all, thanks to her grandpa, isn't that right Charlotte?”

“Mum, really?” You shot a disapproving look at her,  knowing well that it would only encourage your children more when your parents were giving them ammunition to be sassy.

“Grandpa said it's good to have a v-va-, ugh, know-it-all.”

The man chuckled and ran his fingers through his dark blonde locks and somehow that made your insides tingle. “It's alright ma'am, I saw her fall and just didn't know if her parents were around. Maybe I could invite”

“Nah, thank you.” You didn't let him finish because you knew how this was going to end. But your life wasn't a Hallmark movie and your mother wasn't allowed to swoon over him like you knew she would. “I'm really glad you were there to catch my daughter and help her out. But we got to go now and you're probably busy anyway.” 

“Baby, hey, look what I found.” A soft feminine voice called from behind you and you raised your eyes at him like you had just stated a fact. The young woman flashed him a smile and slung her arms around his waist, fingers gripping the long black peacoat slightly. “Oh, hi. I didn't know you were talking with fans, baby.”

She was either a model or an actress. All gorgeous, tall, young, with luscious hair while you had stuck with your mom style, knowing there wasn't always enough time to look super gorgeous.

Yep, definitely model.

“We are not, well, my daughter fell and your, uh,” you stopped short, not sure how to address him, if they were married or only in the boyfriend-girlfriend stage, so you played it safe like so many people before when you were still dating your ex. “Partner” 

Yep, sounds super awkward but what the hell?

“rescued my daughter, she fell and we weren't fast enough.”

“Oh, I hope she's okay?” Concern laced her voice as she smiled at Lottie. Well, your first impression of her seemed to not be true, at least she wasn't stuck up like some others in the industry. “Maybe you guys can join us for a coffee?”

“Ah, n”

“I tried already, she said No.” Austin, as you knee him now shrugged, putting his arms around his girlfriend's shoulder. 

Your mother sent you a disapproving look, brushing Millies's blonde curls back under her head. “It was nice of you to consider us, but the little ones need to get back home and we need to take a look at Lottie's knees. Maybe we'll see each other again and can get that cuppa as a thank you then.”

Oh how you loved her, your mother the diplomat. You knew exactly why she sometimes took the reins from you. You were brash and hot headed when you needed out of a situation and this was exactly one of those occasions. It wasn't that you wanted to be rude to him, not at all. He seemed like a super nice guy, but the last super nice guy that made your insides flutter ended up sleeping with his secretary and leaving you with your two wonderful children. So, you steered clear of them and wouldn't encourage any further confrontation, no matter how nice all these would be.

“Hm, yeah, I got to take a look at the knees, but thank you, usually people around here are a pit occupied with themselves.” Leaving no room for further discussion, you motioned your mother to move along and with a last wave at the couple made your way back out of the park.

Your mother tried to keep pace with you, moving the stroller with a sleeping Millie. She watched you carrying Lottie in your arm, her head leaned on your shoulder and your teeth worrying your lips. “You could have taken his offer, you know, acting a bit nicer. It's not like you'd have ended up in a relationship.”

“Mum, please. This is embarrassing enough for me. He’s there with his girlfriend, I don’t think she would have liked having coffee with another woman and her children.”

“No, probably not. But she offered and it wouldn’t have ended in another disaster like you are trying to paint right now.”

With a sigh you brushed your hand over your daughter’s back and watched your youngest sleeping in her stroller. You knew it wasn’t about the coffee offer or even about Austin. It was your own fear. The fear of taking a leap and getting hurt, your angels getting hurt in the end and you tried to keep any potential human away from them and yourself. “I, I just don’t want to spiral into this thing where I think I might have a chance one day and then get hurt again. I’d”

“You’d rather snuff out any kind of butterflies you might get, right?”

Your children were your priority and there was no way in hell that you would let them get hurt by a romance that probably had no future.

May 2022

“You're such a wanker, Trevor! You're supposed to pay child support, it's been four months and I still haven't gotten anything besides your dumb apologies. If you don't have the money, I'll have my lawyer get your ass into gear.” 

You were fuming, your insides boiling from all the pent up anger and you felt bad for all the people around you witnessing the volcano inside your body erupt when your ex called you - again - to let you know that he was still lagging in the finance department and you'd get the money later than expected.

Turning to the lady at the counter, you sent her an apologetic look, hoping the other patrons in the cafe would be sympathetic to your display right there. “I'm really sorry about that, I didn't want everyone to have to hear it but, well, yeah.”

“Oh, I get it. My ex husband was the same before I sued him. Now he's as easy as a little lamb.” She chuckled, passing the to-go cup of coffee you ordered with a broad smile. “Hang in there, it's going to get better.”

Let's hope that somehow today is going to get better.

Giving her a tight lipped smile, you turned around to leave only to run smack into a broad body.

Oh no.

“Shit.”

“Fuck.”

Taking a deep breath, you turned your head up looking into those blue eyes you’d last seen a few months ago. Of course it had to be him, what were the odds.

Just that morning your mother had told you about the movie and that she recognized Lottie's Austin in the trailer. Now here you were, staring at each other in the Parcafé, part of the Dorchester Hotel. Your best guess was, that he was there on business and staying at the hotel but he was the last person you'd thought you'd run into.

Biting your lip you saw your much needed cup of coffee having spilled all over his shirt - that probably cost more than your rent - and running down his arms. “I, oh my, I’m so sorry.” Grabbing the napkins from the tray beside you, you started patting down his top half.

What a nice one it was.

Nope! Don’t go there, you’re in enough trouble already.

“Hey,” Austin’s hand stopped yours. “It’s okay, I’ll just get it cleaned. You alright?”

Blinking your hand froze mid wipe. “I-I, I spilled my coffee on you, not the other way around.”

He shook his head, his dark blonde locks moving lightly into his face. It felt like an eternity until you were able to look away. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you to the side letting other guests pass you after they complained about you blocking the entrance. “Hey, it’s fine but maybe now I can call you something else besides ‘Lottie’s mom’ when I talk to you.”

Fuck, why is he so nice? I can't get attached, damn it.

Pressing your lips together, you debated in just ignoring it but you remembered what your mother said before. Just because you're nice doesn't mean you'll end up in a relationship.

“I can call you sweetheart or darlin’ if you prefer that to me actually using your name.” His voice was low, soft and rumbled through your body as he spoke, making your skin prickle. 

No wonder his girlfriend was so smitten with him.

You took a deep breath, lips parting and your body on autopilot leaned closer to him, ready to either answer him or kiss him, you weren't sure yet what you really were going to do. 

“Yo, Austin! You ready to head out?” 

“Damn it.” He turned, nodding at his friend before he gave you another smile of his, his blue eyes glinting. “Listen, tonight’s the premiere of Elvis, come with your girls and bring your parents. I’d love to talk some more.”

“Austin.” You choked, eyes widening at his words. “I don’t, is that even possible? You don’t need to do that.”

Smiling, he grabbed your hand. “No I don’t need to, but I want to. It’s going to be fun, I promise.”

Before you could respond, he already gave you his phone, asking you to put in your name. Thanking you with a kiss on your cheek and a promise to send you all the info you need, he walked out with the other man and left you standing in the café, the woman behind the counter giving you a shy smile. “Oh darling, you know, if a guy was looking that good and asking me to come to a party, I’d not hesitate and get dolled up for him.”

Sending her a tight lipped smile, you just nodded and left the café. Your mother was going to have a field day with that. And you guessed the girls would enjoy the music with your dad always playing Elvis for them whenever he could.

“Mummy, look! There’s Austin!” Lottie yelled, jumping happily when she saw the actor. 

You had to admit, he looked amazing in the white suit jacket, undershirt and slacks he wore, smiling brightly as he entered the BFI Southbank with Tom Hanks and the director of the movie. Looking up, he spotted you standing off to the side. He excused himself and made his way through the throng of people and stopped right in front of your girls, crouching down to be eye level with them and holding his hands out for Lottie and Millie to take.

Gosh, is there anything he's not perfect at?

“Wow, look at you beauties. Your mom already said you were super excited to come.”

“Uhuh, grandpa always listens to Elvis and we usually watch Lilo and Stitch on the weekends so we can sing with him.”

You shook your head slightly with a smile on your face. They were so excited to be there and see the movie ever since your mother showed them the trailer to Elvis. “Austin?” He looked up at you, watching as your fingers knotted and relaxed with anxiety. Humming, the actor got up and grabbed your hand. It was nothing romantic, even though the look on his face could have easily been mistaken for something like that. “Thank you for inviting us. My father is super excited and the girls already love it so much from just seeing those posters.”

“I’m glad you came. You know I feared I scared you off today.”

“Well, I never thought I’d run into you again, but here we are. Seems to be some kind of fate.”

He smirked, putting his arm around your shoulder and moving the girls and you to meet the rest of the cast. You had to admit that you were glad to run into Austin, even though you always tried to tell everyone otherwise. He was a great guy, down to earth and super sweet. Somebody that was going to be a great friend for a long while.

Divider @cafekitsune

Tagging @fortheloveoffanfic

#austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #austin butler #austin butler fluff #austin butler fanfic #rpf #reader insert #fanfic #imagine

[avengerscompound]

The Interview - Chapter 25

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings: smut (MF, vaginal sex)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count: 1845

Summary:  Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America.  Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 25

After the blow-up at breakfast, things calmed again.  Melody’s parents were walking on eggshells for the rest of the morning.  Which made everything slightly awkward, but that was okay, Melody had assumed it would be uncomfortable regardless of any confrontations, and if that was the case they might as well clear the air.

After breakfast, she and Steve showered and dressed before taking Steve to meet the Jacob sheep and chickens, and then into the town for lunch.  She considered driving up to Portland with him to put a little distance between them and her family for a little while.  Ultimately, she decided that it would just eat up the entire day for what was essentially spite.  So they spent the afternoon watching Stand By Me so that she could point out things from her hometown that featured in the movie.

It was a calm day in the end.  Everyone had dinner together, and River being there helped calm the storm that had been hanging over the house.  Best of all, everyone seemed to like Steve.  While she hadn’t cared too much if her parents did like him or not, she’d wanted Steve and River to get along.

The whole day she’d kept randomly checking socials and texting with Bobbi.  The news never changed.  It was just people gossiping about her relationship with Steve.  The new thread seemed to be that they were in some kind of PR relationship, which didn’t even make sense given being a celebrity didn’t help Steve with his job at all, so he’d gain nothing from being linked with her.  She knew it would be better to just try and ignore it, but it was like a scab she couldn’t stop picking at.

All in all, with everything that had happened, not just today but for the past few days, Melody was emotionally exhausted.  She called it a night early and headed to bed.  The idea was to journal about everything to try and get her thoughts in order.

There was one problem with that though, as she searched through her things, she couldn’t find her journal anywhere.  She pulled everything out of her suitcase and then out of her handbag, and no journal.  Things had been so hectic.  Normally she always had it with her, but maybe in the rush, she never put it in her handbag before she went to work.

Steve came into the room while she was shaking out pieces of clothing to see if it had gotten tangled up in one of them.  “Did you lose something?” he asked.

“My journal,” she said.  “You haven’t seen it, have you?  I usually have it in my handbag.  But so much has been going on.  I can’t remember when I last took it out.”

He shook his head.  “Sorry, honey.  I haven’t noticed it.  I don’t think you took it out on the plane though.  But I can send a message to the crew.  It’s Tony’s plane, they wouldn’t have tossed it out.”

“That might be good,” she said.  “I might message Bobbi too.  Just in case.”

“That’s a good idea,” Steve said, crawling up on the bed beside her.  The way he moved was like he was an animal stalking its prey.  She laughed and tilted her head as he began to kiss her collarbone and neck.  “Did you want to write tonight?  You could always use one of your old notebooks, right?” Steve murmured into her skin.

She turned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling her toward him as she lay back on the bed.  “It’s okay.  I have another stress reliever that will work just as well.”

Steve kissed her, guiding her back and wrapping his arms around her waist so he could lift her hips to move her into the middle of the mattress. She arched her back and dug her nails into his shoulders.

They stayed in that position for a while, just kissing and holding each other. She needed this.  Needed to get out of her head and let Steve love her.  The longer they kissed the more her body melted into him.  When her lips went numb, she began to tug his shirt up his back.  He pulled back and pulled it off over his head.  She took the opportunity to pull her own shirt off and swing one of her legs around Steve, so he was kneeling between her legs.

“This feels a little bad being in your childhood room,” Steve said as he went to unfasten her pants.

She grinned up at him.  “It’s fun, isn’t it?”

He bit his bottom lip and nodded, then lunged in to kiss her again. They kissed deeply and passionately.  There was a frantic undertone that was matched with the way they shed the last of their clothes.  Melody squirmed under him as she helped him get her pants down, and his open. Neither of them seemed to want to break the kiss, so it was an awkward scrabble to get their remaining clothes off.

Steve had only managed to get his pants down enough to free his cock and he was pressing it up against her cunt.  She moaned, arching her back and angling her hips so that the tip of Steve’s cock caught, and he sunk into her.

They moaned at once, his bass in perfect harmony with her alto.  It resonated in the room and Steve kissed her to smother the sound.  It just made her moan louder and she bucked her hips and dug her nails into his shoulders, her nails digging perfect crescents into his unblemished skin.

“Honey,” Steve whispered.  “You’re going to need to be quiet.”

She giggled and shook her head.  “You might need to make me.”

He looked down at her with darkened eyes.  “Oh I see,” he said.

His hand went to her mouth, two of his fingers pushing inside as he tried to smother the sounds she was making.  She moaned, sucking on his fingers and arching her back off the mattress.  She pulled one leg up, and he moved, so her ankle was hooked over his shoulder.  She was stretched out and open under him.  Silently pleading with him to start moving.  He felt so deep, and when he moved his hips forward, there was a sharp sting against her cervix that made her hiss and buck up.

He pulled back right away, almost pulling out completely and he held himself there, the tip of his cock just inside her.  She mewled and her toes curled, and when she felt like she wasn’t going to be able to take this teasing one second longer, he began to thrust.

Melody arched her back, and her toes curled as Steve began to methodically pull her apart.  Each stroke of his hips was deliberate and measured.  He pushed in deep but always stopped just short of hitting her cervix and each time he pulled out the base of his cock rubbed against her clit.  It was so exact and careful and yet he was moving at breakneck speed.  His hips pistoned creating a rapid-fire series of wet cracks each time their bodies connected.  A hot current tore through Melody’s body and she felt helpless to do anything other than completely surrender to it.  She clung to him, fingernails digging into his back and heels shoving into his muscles as she held on for dear life.

The whole time, Steve kept his hand over her mouth and held her gaze with lust-blown eyes.  She mewled into his hand, sucking on his fingers.  It made it just that little bit harder to draw in breath and soon she was panting with effort, her head going soft and swimmy as her orgasm drew nearer.  He knew how to play her body like an instrument.  Not one move was wrong and she was doing all she could just to hold out that little bit longer.

Pleasure wound around her like vines on a stone pillar. They wrapped around each of her muscles one by one and when her orgasm hit, they pulled tight in sequence from her toes to her head, making her clench up as it tore through her. She cried out, cursing around Steve’s fingers, but the sound was muffled by his hand, and stars popped behind her eyes 

Steve, however, was nowhere near close to being done.

He pulled out of her and grabbing her hips, he flipped her onto her stomach.  She gasped and squealed with delight, getting on her hands and knees in front of him, pushing her ass back against his cock.  He grabbed her hips and with one smooth stroke, he shoved deep inside her.  It made a graphic wet squelch when he shoved back in.

Melody was shoved forward with the force of the thrust and her arms gave out immediately.  She let herself lie there, ass in the air and face pressed into the mattress as Steve railed into her.  She let out a loud moan, pressing her face right down into her pillow to smother the sound.

“That’s it,” Steve praised.  “Good girl.  Don’t want anyone to hear us.”

He ran his hand up her spine and pushed it into her curls.  The sting in her scalp was enough to bring the start of a second orgasm surging to the edge.  She mewled, gritting her teeth, trying to keep it together.  Her legs trembled with the effort.  It was no use.  Steve wrapped his hand around her waist and began to rub her clit.

Her orgasm tore through her, and she screamed into her pillow as her whole body seized up with it.  Steve kept thrusting, his strokes becoming more erratic as the pulse of her cunt milked his cock.

“Please, Steve,” she begged.  “Please.  I need it.”

He groaned and his hand tightened in her hair. “Melody,” he moaned as his hips stuttered, and with one more hard thrust, he came, biting into her shoulder to stifle the sound of his moan.

She collapsed down on the mattress and Steve rolled off her, and for a while they just lay there, breathing heavily as they rode out their orgasm highs.

“How was that?” Steve asked.  “Did that clear your head?”

She laughed softly and nodded.  “Yeah… mostly.”

He looked at her and cradled her cheek, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone.  “You still need to write it out though, don’t you?”

She scrunched her nose and nodded.  “I think so.”

He patted her thigh.  “How about this; you find something to journal on, and I’ll draw.  Then maybe we can do that again before we go to sleep.”

She laughed and kissed him. “Thank you, honey.”

It didn’t take her too long to dig out both an old sketchbook and pencils, and a half-empty journal and a pen.  When they were settled on the bed she started to write out all the feelings about what had transpired over the past three days, starting with how lucky she felt to have Steve Rogers in her life.

// NEXT

#marvel #avengers #marvel fanfic #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #captain america #captain america fanfic #steve rogers x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #ofc #smut #the interview

[helianskies]

9 or 21, lietpru|pruliet?

man i hope i have done them and u some kind of justice—

Martyrdom

“God, you're in a sorry state.”

“Thanks for pointing it out,” Gilbert quips as he does his best to swallow down a cough that feels like it could dislodge a lung. “Hadn’t noticed.”

“No, really,” Tolys proceeds all the same, wandering only further into Gilbert’s room—notably, without his permission. Typical. “It stinks in here. For someone who’s usually a proud and tidy man, you might as well be living with animals—”

“Sometimes, I do.”

“—and it’s the middle of the day, why are your—? Here—”

Tolys walks right over to the window, and before Gilbert can stop him (or really even consider stopping him) he throws the curtains open and lets the sun in. Gilbert wants to scream and curse him back a thousand years into the past, but… he can’t muster the energy or will to, and simply chooses to defy the other, throwing himself back down into his bedsheets in the same way a child would.

Just because Toyls wants to invade his space, that doesn’t mean that Gilbert has to entertain him!

The mattress shifts and bounces with added weight behind him. Gilbert stares at the wall, but he knows that the other has now decided to make himself comfortable. It only grinds his gears more.

“Go away, Liet…”

“So formal, Preußen,” Tolys muses. “You really are in a bad mood.”

“No thanks to you.”

“Not sure I can be blamed for how you’re feeling. Or coping.”

“Maybe not,” Gilbert mutters, acerbic, “but you aren’t helping.”

“Is that what you want me to do?” Tolys asks. “You want me to help you?”

Gilbert lacks a real answer. Saying that he wants any kind of help would mean defeat. A kicked canine, tail between his legs. But saying that he wants nothing, and potentially sending Tolys back on his way, will only leave him alone again. And for how long? Alone to wallow, to lie there, to drip away slowly into nothing…

It’s been days now. Days of silence. He has noticed passing footsteps—footsteps that have sometimes stopped, listened, waited, and then moved on—

“So, you want me to help,” Tolys remarks as he crosses one leg over the other, and Gilbert can feel those watchful, attentive eyes on him. They may as well have been fingers on his skin, warm, ticklish, teasing…

“Yeah,” Gilbert replies, letting his breath go. He feels himself sink deeper into pillows and blankets. “I need a favour…”

“Go on then,” the other says. “What is it?”

Gilbert breathes back in. His body flushes with shivers and aches. And he asks of the other, “Put me out of my misery.”

Part of him wonders if Tolys will laugh at his request, or maybe tell him to stop being so dramatic. Part of him wonders if he’d feel fingers after all—if something would possess the other and he would cure Gilbert of his ailment—an ailment that Gilbert himself couldn’t even describe. Part of him wonders if—

“No.”

Gilbert nearly chokes on his own saliva, hurrying to sit himself up before he ends up coughing up a lung after all. He whips his head around to stare at Tolys, who is now apparently much more interested in looking out of the window opposite the bed, and he feels shivers and aches of a different kind. 

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” Tolys repeats, too. He looks back at Gilbert and says quite plainly, “Not my misery, so not my problem.”

He’s stunned. 

“Well, fuck you, I guess,” he says, before, again, returning to his bed. 

Not the same way as before, though. It isn’t abrupt, and it isn’t like a tantrum. He just… lies back down, like a dog who has given up trying to get attention, his head settling back on a pillow as his eyes return to the wall. To his wall. To one of his walls, so grey, so cold. 

A soft snort of laughter comes from behind him. It’s wounding, for a moment. But then he feels the mattress move and wobble again, and the next thing he knows, there is an arm. An arm. A whole arm that has come to lie across his side. It doesn’t quite hold him, but it is there, and… that’s okay.

“You get five minutes,” Tolys tells him as his fingers find the other’s hair and gently sift through it. Gilbert closes his eyes. He lets him continue, and relaxes. “After that, you’re having a serious fucking shower, got it?”

“Sure. Got it.”

But if Gilbert could fall asleep in those five minutes, then… Well, the shower, the cleaning, the living—it could wait. It would wait. He’s got what he needs for now.

The dog always gets the bone in the end.

[ find the fic collection on ao3! ]

#helia writes #hetalia #hws lithuania #hws prussia #lietpru #pruliet #yeah so for characters i don't really write let's hope i've done okay :'D #thanks for the request tho i think you made a good choice with those prompt options hehe #someone's gotta keep gil in check #and i would write them again if asked (and if i did a good job ofc asdgfhtr)

[quin-ns]

Eventually (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

Word count: 6.7k

Summary: Coriolanus could appreciate irony, but the one person he desires more than anything wanting nothing to do with him pushes him to new territory

Tags: (18+), cw: noncon, dark!coriolanus, deeply implied stalker!coriolanus, unreliable narrator coriolanus (boy is delusional tbh, no one is doing more mental gymnastics than him), pre-mentor era, obsession, unprotected sex, choking (only for like a second), virginity status undisclosed but as I was writing I began to imagine this being the first time for both of them—it’s not even implied tho, so do with that what you will

A/N: a character as evil as him I couldn’t conceive writing fluff for. he’s bad and guess what I’m not gonna fix him, but I also can’t make him not-hot so… hehe. please read the tags and proceed with caution <3

hunger games masterlist

You wanted nothing to do with him, and that made him crazy.

No, if anything, you were the crazy one. Coriolanus hadn’t done anything but try to be your friend, but you snubbed him without reason.

Coriolanus did a good job at keeping the financial situation of his family a secret. No one knew, and he doubted you were an exception. Yet, it was as if you looked down upon him.

Although, you’d grown fond of Sejanus, so even if you did know, status wasn’t a concern of yours. It was something he admired, yet questioned all at once. There had to be a reason for your dismissal. A reason you couldn’t bring yourself to even offer a smile back. It’s not like he was asking a lot.

It’s not like he wasn’t trying, either. He’d gotten used to trying to make people like him, to see him as better than he was, but it was never this hard. It would’ve been so much simpler if you just told him to his face what your problem was, but whenever he came around, mostly when you were talking to Sejanus—they were friends, it was the perfect excuse—you just went quiet. You’d greet him, make no effort to continue the conversation, then excuse yourself.

All Coriolanus wanted to know was why.

“You’re watching her again,” Clemensia whispered to him, eyes flicking between him and the paper in front of her.

They were class partners, but Coriolanus was beginning to think he spent too much time with her.

“Who?”

Clemensia let out a small chuckle, mocking him. The professor at the front of the class looked up, and Coriolanus quickly looked down at his paper, taking his eyes off of you.

“You’re too obvious,” she muttered, a smirk in her voice. “Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you. Because you stare at her too much.”

She didn’t get a response—it didn’t deserve one. Coriolanus questioned why he ever told her anything. She made him sound like some sort of stalker. Which, for the record, he was not.

His eyes managing to find you frequently wasn’t a crime, and neither was crossing your path. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence most of the time, but it’s not as if he was harming you by watching you. He doubted you noticed anyway.

Seeing you nearly everyday had been enough to keep him sated, but then Sejanus started talking about you. Through no fault of his own, Coriolanus learned things about you. What he came to know made him curious to discover more. Even if you did not seem keen to let him.

Being content with what he had didn’t keep its appeal for long. Not when you were right there, your presence taunting him. Making him want what you would not let him have.

“You just need to talk to her, Coryo,” Tigris told him one evening, when he revealed everything to her. “Not in class and not with Sejanus. Just you. Let her know the real you and I promise she’ll like what she sees.”

Coriolanus took his cousin’s advice to heart. She was much more empathetic than him, she had to be onto something, right?

Everything changed when Coriolanus sat across from you at a study table in the library.

As beautiful as you were from a distance, being up close was something else entirely. He could admire you for hours and never get tired.

You looked up at him, he smiled and said hello just like Tigris advised. The smile you returned seemed forced, and you ignored that he had spoken.

It upset him, but not as much as when you got up and walked out. It was the last straw. Coriolanus was following you into the hall before he could think better of it.

He caught up to you, dropping his hand to your shoulder to make you turn around and face him. When you did, you looked surprised. That wasn’t what made Coriolanus hesitate, but the realization that he had never been this close to you before. Not even sitting across from you compared to touching you.

His heart skipped a beat.

“What do you want?” you questioned, a level of annoyance he thought to be unearned in your voice.

His heart started again.

“Have I done something to you?” Coriolanus confronted you, feeling a familiar sense of agitation creep over him. He had to know. “To make you feel such distaste for me?”

“I don’t dislike you, Coriolanus,” you replied, calmly after recovering from your initial shock. “I’m just… indifferent to you.”

The answer confused him more than it did enrage him. He smothered the latter feeling as he observed you.

“You’re… indifferent,” he stated, not asking. His feet shifted beneath him. It hurt, for some reason. “Why?”

Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly, studying him. It was the same way you’d look at your books when you were struggling with a subject, lingering behind in class or the library until a triumphant smile crossed your face.

Only, that smile never came. Your expression just faded back to normal.

“You shouldn’t put so much weight on what other people think of you,” you advised, stepping closer to him. His breath caught in his chest. You smelled sweet, like flowers. “Especially not someone you don’t even know.”

It was then, he realized, you hadn’t moved closer to him with purpose. You’d been on your way moving past him. His eyes focused on your back as you walked away, figuring out what to say.

“I’d like to know you,” he announced earnestly, verbally trying to pull you back. “If you’d only give me a chance.”

You slowed to a stop, looking over your shoulder. Coriolanus felt as if he was on display as your eyes raked over him, determining for yourself his sincerity.

“You’re friends with Sejanus, aren’t you?” you wondered. It wasn’t what he expected, but Coriolanus nodded. You sighed, which irked him to think it was pity. “If you’d like to join us for lunch I wouldn’t be against that.”

“I’ll see you then,” he said, but you were already turning away. He kept to himself that he had already tried in the past.

His friend was nice. Too nice for his own good, truthfully. It wasn’t as if Sejanus completely abandoned him the moment he befriended you. It was more like he split his time, attending to both friendships. The only thing Coriolanus held against him was that he never tried to reintroduce the two of you. Maybe even put in a good word.

At lunch Coriolanus found you and Sejanus quickly, he knew where you liked to sit.

“Hey, Coryo,” Sejanus greeted, smiling. “About time you decided to join us.”

Coriolanus put on a smile as he sat down. “Well, I would’ve sooner, but I wasn’t sure I was welcome before.”

The comment made you smirk, in on the joke as Coriolanus looked at you.

“Who’s to say you are now?” you sarcastically replied, as if you hadn’t been the one to invite him.

Well, “invite” was being generous, but he still seized the opportunity nonetheless.

“Ignore her, she can’t help herself,” Sejanus said with a chuckle, used to your humor.

This time, when he tried to talk to you, you engaged. In between discussions of classes and assignments, Coriolanus had to dodge your quick wit.

He liked the challenge, and the next day, he went back for more. Even walked right past Clemanisa and Arachne, who tried to invite him to their table with Festus. You were waiting for him.

He noticed you and Sejanus already talking.

When he sat across from you, you raised your brows. “Seeking refuge?”

Before he could ask what you meant, you nodded your head towards the girls he’d left behind.

You knew about his friends?

“You could call it that,” he replied, a smile starting to appear.

You nodded and hummed.

“Well, what are your qualifications?”

“Excuse me?”

“You joke too much, Y/N,” Sejanus lightly scolded you, interrupting whatever path you were going down, which made you laugh. “He’s going to think you don’t like him.”

“He knows I don’t mean anything by it,” you assured, looking at Coriolanus. “I’m just trying to figure him out.”

Your tone was filled with confidence, but your face… Coriolanus wasn’t sure how to place your underlying expression. You had a shield up, he knew that much, but what did that have to do with him? Were you trying to figure out if you could let it down for him? Or something else?

“Of course,” Coriolanus answered, not taking his eyes off of you. “I’m an open book.”

“Are you, now?” You folded your arms on the table. “Your friends love to gossip, and I don’t think I’ve heard that about you.”

“It’s not my fault if they don’t know how to read,” Coriolanus quipped, proud of himself for being so quick.

None of his friends had wronged him, but the joke at their expense was worth it for what followed after.

He made you laugh. Not just smile, but truly laugh. It was exactly what he wanted, and it actually worked. Awe didn't begin to describe how it felt.

Joining your table for lunch became the best part of his day. Sometimes he forgot Sejanus was even there, far too eager to see you. He saw you all the time, of course. Watching you was a habit he had yet to break, but this was different. You were aware of his presence, and he was able to speak to you. It didn’t matter that you still seemed weary, it was enough.

Even if you didn’t like him, you still had conversations with him, so that was something.

Sometimes, if you were deep in a discussion, debating ethics—your favorite topic—it would continue beyond just the table. He’d walk you to class, wanting to hear your voice just a second longer.

“I want to meet this girl,” His grandmother declared one night, after Coriolanus drifted to the topic of you over dinner. He’d been doing it more recently.

Tigris gave him a look, a light frown. There was no way to do that without you coming to his home, and he wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Let Coryo decide that, Grandma‘am,” Tigris insisted, patting the older woman’s shoulder.

“Well, he has feelings for Y/N,” she argued, looking at Coriolanus. He used your name enough that she remembered it. “And she likes him too—doesn’t she?”

Coriolanus gave a tight smile. “Yes, she does.”

Keeping up appearances.

“Well, that settles it, then,” Grandma‘am decided.

“I think it’s time you get to bed,” Tigris intervened, getting their grandmother up from her chair.

Later, when they were alone, Tigris asked him, “Does she even know how you feel about her?” She knew him too well. He took too long to answer. “You should tell her. From what you’ve told us, you two should be together. But it won’t happen unless you make it known how you feel.”

Coriolanus’s dreams were filled with you, as they usually were, but something was different the morning he woke up after the conversation with Tigris.

All he had to do was prove himself to you, and he knew that now.

Coriolanus found you in the library a lot, often pretending to stumble upon you. This time, he didn’t put on a facade.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he acknowledged, sitting down beside you. Often he’d sit across, but he was testing the waters. Seeing if you were put off by the proximity. “Studying for Featherly’s class?”

“I’m terrified for his test,” you confided, rubbing your temples as you hunched down at your book. “I feel like my mind has no room for anything else. I’ve memorized nothing.”

With a sigh, you sat up and pushed the book away.

“I can help you,” Coriolanus insisted, reaching for the book. He read over the page you were on, knowing he’d already perfected the subject. “You should’ve asked for me sooner.”

Maybe it was a little spiteful, but he hadn’t purposely meant it to come out that way. You still noticed it, taking your book back.

“I’m not asking for your help now, Coriolanus,” you muttered, looking at him out of the corner of your eye.

You were the last of his friends to still call him that. Most everyone else called him ‘Coryo’. Not you. But you were stubborn in many ways. This too, apparently.

“I didn’t mean anything against you,” he said lightly, even chuckling a little. It was forced, but he wanted to show he wasn’t being that serious.

Using your own words on you did not have the desired effect.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hummed.

Coriolanus tilted his head down, trying to get you to meet his gaze. You gave in, facing him, looking unamused.

He wanted to wipe that look away, but didn’t know how. If he could just make you like him—

Suddenly, your watch began to beep.

“Test time,” you grumbled, taking back your book and getting up.

Coriolanus followed you down the hall and into class. The tests were already on the desks, waiting. You two were early—he noticed that because of the clock on the wall.

He walked you to your seat and wished you good luck. To his surprise, you offered the same in return. Then, he went to his own. Other students filed in quickly after, professor Featherly being the last to enter the room.

The professor declared, “Begin,” then sat at his desk in the middle of the room and began to read.

The test wasn’t easy, but Coriolanus knew what he was doing. One look around the classroom and he saw that wasn’t the case for most other students. He felt a sense of pride, until his gaze landed on you. You were one row down and four seats to the left. He’d counted before. You were fiddling with your pencil, struggling to come up with what to write down.

While he could’ve been the first to finish, Coriolanus let other students turn their tests in before him. An hour passed by, but it moved quickly.

There were only a few students left when you finally got up. You radiated an anxious energy, much like the others, but Coriolanus didn’t care about the others.

Clemensia stuck her hand up in the air, waiting for the professor to notice her, distracting Coriolanus briefly. When the professor looked up and noticed her, Clemansia got her wish.

Coriolanus considered himself lucky, convincing himself with his own mantra frequently. As he watched you leave your test on Featherly’s desk and rush from the room, he realized how he could help you.

He quickly marked down the rest of his answers, having stalled so he could leave when you did. The professor was making his way away from the desk, while Coriolanus got up and went in the opposite direction.

With a swift, hard kick to the leg, the professor's desk wobbled and papers spilled off on the other side. It looked like an accident.

Featherly looked over his shoulder at the noise.

“Sorry,” Coriolanus apologized, kneeling down behind the desk to collect the papers.

Without anyone watching, he found your test. He had no time to change the written questions, but he made quick work of erasing and re-doing the multiple choice, with his own test and knowledge as reference.

He had to give you credit for getting a decent amount correct, but not enough for a passing grade.

When Coriolanus fixed that, he stacked together the papers and placed them back on the desk and exited.

Everyone was waiting in the hall. Against tradition, the professor graded tests directly after and would call students in to give the results. It was time consuming, and kept everyone on campus after hours, which was against the rules, but perhaps he’d gotten some kind of exception.

You were leaning against the wall opposite of the classroom, talking to some girl from the class—Coriolanus didn’t bother to learn her name. He wanted to go to you, but Sejanus got to him first instead.

“How do you think you did?”

Coriolanus shrugged, looking down at his friend. “Fine, I think.” That was the humble answer, right? “How about you?”

“Not perfect, but I passed.”

Clemensia trotted out then, a confident look on her face.

“What was so important you had to ask during the test?” Coriolanus couldn’t help but wonder. She’d unknowingly helped him, after all.

“Just clarity on a question, wanted to make sure I got it right,” she answered with ease.

“And did you?”

She gave Sejanus a look.

“Yes, of course.”

The last person exited the class, and professor Featherly closed the door. And so the grading began.

One by one, the professor called people in. There was no method to the order, it seemed likely he shuffled the papers or chose which one to grade next at random.

Time passed, Coriolanus didn’t know how much exactly, but it was beginning to get dark outside. Tigris would be worried until he got home, but she’d understand. His studies came first.

Eventually, Coriolanus realized it was dwindling down to be just you and him left. He was lucky today.

The third to last student was in the classroom, leaving you across the hall from one another.

You pressed your lips together before speaking.

“Do you think you did alright?”

The corner of Coriolanus’s lip twitched up at the sound of your voice.

“Yes, I think so,” he answered humbly. “What about you?”

You let out a self deprecating laugh. “When I said I was terrified, I wasn’t being dramatic.” You sighed, accepting your fate. “I’ll have to do perfect on the next one, I guess.”

“I can help you with that,” Coriolanus offered.

The smile he gave you spawned a mirror reaction. He knew he was charming, he had to be, and this time you actually seemed receptive to it.

“Maybe you can.”

The sound of a door opening made Coriolanus turn. Arachne was leaving, a smug look on her face as she thanked the professor.

Then the door closed, and the professor graded another test. There were only two left.

“I wish he wouldn’t do it like this,” you filled the silence. “The others don’t make us wait like this.”

“It builds suspense, I suppose,” Coriolanus mused. “Keeps us on our toes.”

“That’s not something I need right now.”

“At least you have good company,” he noted flirtatiously. He couldn’t help but grin at his own words, especially when you bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling.

“Could be worse, I supposed,” you retorted.

More time passed. The door opened again.

“Coriolanus Snow,” the professor addressed him next. “Your turn.”

As expected, Coriolanus did close to perfect. One answer off. Best in the class.

Back in the hallway, when he was done, Coriolanus waited with you. He didn’t announce he was staying, he just returned to his spot against the wall.

“Don’t keep a girl waiting. How did you do?” you asked, departing from the wall.

Coriolanus wondered where you were going, but then, you stood next to him, leaning back against the wall. There was still an arms length between the two of you, but it was something. You’d gone to him for once.

“You’ll think I’m full of myself if I tell you,” he teased lightly, which made you roll your eyes.

“Maybe I already think that, so just tell me,” you insisted.

The comment made him falter.

“Best in the class,” he divulged.

You almost looked impressed. “Good for you.”

The door opened.

“Y/N L/N, you’re up.”

“Wish me luck,” you said under your breath before following Featherly in.

“Good luck.”

Coriolanus waited for you, just like before. He tapped his foot. The professor didn’t actually go over the answers, he just told you the grade. You’d have no way of knowing what he did for you, but he’d be there to share in your excitement when you discovered how well you’d done.

Or, how well he’d done for you.

Not long later, you and the professor exited the class together.

“Wasn’t expecting you to still be here,” Featherly addressed Coriolanus. “You should get going. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Then, he left you and Coriolanus alone in the hall, presumably leaving the building.

“So,” Coriolanus began with a smile. “How did you do?”

“He asked if I’d been studying with you. Apparently we had all the same answers,” you told him, crossing your arms. “Except when I asked him to show me my exam—which I did great on, apparently—I saw answers circled that weren’t mine.”

Coriolanus hadn’t expected you to find out so quickly, but a part of him was relieved you did. It meant he got to take credit, and he could show you that he really did want the best for you.

Or, he could always lie.

“You weren scared of failing,” he finally admitted. He offered a sympathetic smile. “So I helped.”

“No, you cheated!” you accused, causing his eyes to go wide. “You’ve implicated us both. If anyone finds out…”

“Don’t be so loud,” he hissed out in a whisper, stepping closer to you. The professor could still be in the building. He doubted anyone else would be. “I just wanted to help you, okay? You needed it, so I—“

“You helped, I get it. But I didn’t ask you to do that for me, Coriolanus. I have never asked you to do anything for me,” you sneered, somewhere between offended and betrayed.

He saw the way you scanned his face—his eyes. The pleading was beginning to seep through.

A wave of realization washed over you before he even opened his mouth.

“You didn’t have to ask me to,” Coriolanus said meaningfully, stepping closer to you. “I wanted to. I wanted to help you.”

You back hit the wall. The hallway was so empty it seemed as if the subtle sound still echoed.

“I’d do anything for you, don’t you get that?”

The sound of a large door closing carried from a distance.

Coriolanus reached for your face, wishing he could take away the concern that riddled your expression. Instead, he brushed a stray piece of hair from your face.

You swallowed. Why did you look so nervous around him? You were friends now, weren’t you? You never looked scared around anyone else. Why him? Why now? His own questions frustrated him.

“We’re not supposed to be on campus after hours,” you said calmly. It was the same tone you used when you first described your indifference to him. Coriolanus thought about that moment a lot. “Featherly already left. We should leave before we get caught.”

The corners of his lips twitched down.

“We’re still talking, though, aren’t we?”

You let out a shallow breath. You had no reason to look as scared as you did.

“I think we’re done.”

Coriolanus thought back to his cousin’s advice. He could’ve followed it better if she’d written it down, perchance.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Coriolanus pondered, smiling to himself at the sight of you. “You caught my eye from the beginning and I—I couldn’t figure out why you wanted nothing to do with me.” You watched him carefully. He wondered if you could sense the dejectedness brewing. “Did you see something in me? Is that it?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted under your breath. “People like you, and you’ve been making an effort to be my friend, so I don’t know what told me to stay away from you, but something did. I’ve tried to ignore it, but I still…” you swallowed. “I don’t know.”

The confession should’ve been a relief. That’s what he imagined it would be. That you would admit the truth, and he could fix whatever misconceptions you had.

Coriolanus did not know what to do with “I don’t know”.

Staring down at you, Coriolanus noticed your back was against the wall. Literally. He hadn’t meant to put you there, but he had.

It got you to listen, didn’t it? He’d gotten an answer?

“Can we start over?” Coriolanus suggested, even throwing in a smile that would charm most anyone. It worked on you before. “We can forget all this mess.”

You blinked. You didn’t believe him.

For most people, he wouldn’t simply let numerous slights go, but for you, if it would fix whatever this was, if it meant the two of you could have a real chance, then he’d overcome his instincts—old and new.

“I’m afraid my memory is too good for that,” you finally said, looking up at him with defiance.

Defying what, was the question. It wasn’t as if you were enemies.

The thought made his jaw clench. He let out a laugh that was sharp. It lacked any sense of humor.

“Why can’t you just accept my apology?”

Your brows arched up, questioning him.

“That was supposed to be an apology?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “But it’s not as if I owe you one.”

“I never said you did. I never said anything. You took it upon yourself to insert yourself into my life and now you are not happy with your place in it. You’ve overstepped, and you need to let me leave.”

Coriolanus frowned.

“You act like I’m keeping you here by force.”

You look up at him, silently telling him you believed he was.

That frustrated him further.

In an act that jarred even him, Coriolanus pressed his palms against your shoulders and pushed you back against the wall when you tried to move away.

“This is force,” he declared sternly, leaning down, making you maintain his gaze.

Everyone liked control, but he hadn’t used it in such a physical way before. It thrilled him in an odd way.

“Get your hands off me.”

“Why should I? You already think so poorly of me, why not let you be right?”

You moved again then, trying to catch him off guard and squirm away. But Coriolanus was quick to shove you back against the wall.

“We can still start over. If you would give me a chance, I think we can be good together.”

He let one hand rise to rest on your cheek. Your skin was so smooth. He inhaled deeply, resolve slipping further as his eyes fell to your lips.

If Coriolanus could just prove it to you, he was sure you’d understand what he meant.

He leaned in cautiously, gauging your reaction. You didn’t flinch away. You tilted your chin up, even. That familiar skip of his heart returned.

Coriolanus’s lips only just brushed against yours before you reacted. He had a second of relief before you brought your knee up, jabbing him in the lower stomach, although he doubted that was where you were aiming. It was still enough of a shock to throw him off his game. He stumbled back, and in a flash, you were gone. You were running down the hall—trying to get away from him, like usual.

Only this time, he didn’t feel like letting you go.

Something he had slowly come to learn was when he wanted something, it wasn’t just going to be handed to him. Vying for the Plinth Prize highlighted that, alongside his childhood.

He caught you easily, hand snapping out like a snake to grip your arm and yank you back to him. You collided with his chest. It was like you weren’t even trying. Not really. Just toying with him.

“Am I a game to you?” Coriolanus hissed into your ear, wrapping you in his arms. “Something for you to play?”

“I haven’t done anything to you! I hardly even know you!” you defended, but it just made him hold you tighter.

“I know you,” he implored, fighting against your squirming. He lost balance and when you fell to the ground, you took him with you. Coriolanus got you onto your back, sitting on your thighs, gripping your wrists in his hands to keep you from swinging at him. You let out panicked breaths, staring up at him. “I know more than you think.”

Something about the position made the front of his pants begin to feel constricting.

“Coriolanus, you’re frightening me,” you enunciated, as if trying to reason with him.

“I’m not being unreasonable,” Coriolanus grit out, working to maintain his composure.

“What?” you questioned, brows pinching together, a deep frown on your face. Confused and scared. Coriolanus used to feel that way. “Just let me go.”

“And then what? You go back to ignoring me? No I can’t… I can’t go back to that. If you just give me a chance I can show you.”

Coriolanus didn’t know what happened next.

Tigris told him it was like he left his own head, sometimes. She said he’d get so caught up, he wouldn’t notice things. At the time he had laughed. If anyone stayed aware, it was him.

It wasn’t that he left his head, but got lost in it. Lost in his own inner monologue to realize what he was doing.

In this case, what he’d done.

Far too busy thinking of ways to convey everything he wanted to say to you, how to make you understand, visualizing your reaction, he’d already acted.

Maybe there were two people living in his mind. One with a conscience, one without. Or perhaps that was just something he used to justify his less than decent actions. An excuse. He’d never let himself know the truth. Not really. Not yet.

What he did know was what he could see. You, beneath him, clothes torn from your body. The only thing left was a shirt. Too much effort, apparently. Your wrists were snatched together in one of his hands.

The power stirred something within him.

One might say he was out of excuses when he reached for the zipper of his pants, but no one else was here, were they?

Your mouth was moving. Speaking. Maybe even yelling. Looking at him, looking around the room. He couldn’t hear a sound but his own heart thumping in his ears paired with his own eager breaths. Was that normal?

He moved, wedging himself between your legs, nudging them apart to make room for himself.

“It’s just us,” Coriolanus spoke, loud enough to hear himself. You flinched. “No one’s here.”

He gripped himself, stroking his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. His patience was running incredibly thin.

Tears pricked in your eyes. You stopped struggling at his words, accepting it for what it was. Good.

“Why are you doing this?”

He heard your voice clearly, that time, despite the strain in your tone.

Coriolanus observed you carefully, squeezing your wrists together in one hand and lovingly caressing your hip with the other.

He finally understood the answer you’d given before. He found it fitting now.

“I don’t know.”

To him, it was the truth.

The moment Coriolanus pressed himself inside of you, it was as if the rest of the world disappeared. After so long of wanting you in every way, shape, or form, this was long overdue.

“You’re perfect for me,” he breathed out. Coriolanus gave a shove of his hips, his gaze falling to your mouth as an unwilling yelp slipped out. “I knew you would be.”

You were tight, too tight, even. Unwelcoming. Yet still, you felt like home.

His hand—the one that was on your hip—drifted between your legs. He found your clit, running his thumb in small circles, trying to ease the pressure you must’ve been feeling.

Coriolanus did not want to hurt you.

He looked into unfocused eyes. Where were you? Were you trying to be somewhere else?

He let your hands go. You didn’t move to slap him or shove him or anything. You were learning.

He leaned over you more, reaching for you face with his now free hand, and ran his thumb over your cheek, encouraging your gaze to actually meet his. He smiled softly when you did. You got more beautiful every second he looked at you. It was even better when he could see you were present.

Coriolanus found himself unable to resist it, so he gave into the urge to press his lips to yours. A real kiss, this time.

Your lips were softer than he’d imagined. You made a noise when his tongue tasted your mouth. His kiss was hungry—aggressive, even. But he’d waited so long he didn’t know how to contain himself.

Your body reacted to his touch. Your bent knees inched up his hips to accommodate him, and your walls were becoming slick, accepting the invasion.

A deep moan escaped him, cock throbbing inside you at the feel. The sound was muffled by his lips pressed to yours, but he still felt vulnerable, giving himself to you in this way.

Coriolanus pulled back from the kiss, only to rest his forehead against yours and breathe out a small puff of air from his lips.

“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you. Not even the Plinth Prize,” he confessed in a whisper.

“What’s the difference?” You finally spoke, voice wavering. “You have to earn the prize?” The accusing tone felt like a slap.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Coriolanus muttered, eyes boring into yours. “You’ll see.”

He gave you one more searing kiss before moving his hips.

A gasp that morphed into a moan clawed its way up your throat. The sound was like music to his ears. He wanted to hear it again.

He began to move more consistently, finding a pace that suited him. Rough enough to keep you present, but not so harsh as to hurt you. He wanted you to enjoy yourself, even if you were trying to avoid it.

Still figuring you out, Coriolanus found your sweet spot with a hard thrust, causing you to wince. Instinctively, you tried to push him away, just like you had before, not wanting to surrender.

You stilled when you felt his hand. He hardly realized how he’d reacted until he felt your throat bob beneath his palm.

Coriolanus retracted his hand, like your skin and shot a volt through him. His movements slowed to a stop.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized earnestly, brushing the hand through your hair gently. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your chest heaved as you breathed shaky breaths through your nose. Your lips pressed together in a line.

You weren’t going to dignify him with a response. In a way, he understood.

Coriolanus locked his arms under your body and in a surge of strength, pulled you from the ground and into his lap. He hugged you against him, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Forgive me,” he requested softly.

You shifted in his lap, adjusting yourself to find comfort in the new position. You did not speak.

He slammed his hips up, forcing a gasp from your lips. That was something, wasn’t it?

You pulled back, and he did it again. And again. And again.

You fell against him, jarred by the change in his movements as he thrust into you. He liked it, feeling you in his lap, your chest against his, leaving you no choice but to hold onto him.

His lips latched onto the skin of your neck as he moved, barring his teeth and nipping the skin. You reacted as if he were venomous, straining away from him, but he’d left his mark.

You could pretend all you wanted that you didn’t like him, but Coriolanus could feel your body reacting to his. He could feel the way your walls squeezed around him, drawing him in, and how your body quivered as he pushed you closer to your edge.

“Just let go,” Coriolanus whispered, holding you tighter. He cradled the back of your head against him as he moved inside of you. Soothing and rough at the same time. “It’s okay, I know you want to.”

“Shut up,” you hissed into his neck, hands finding his chest.

Were you really going to try and get away from him? It was a bit late for that.

Coriolanus moved his hand between your bodies, finding your clit with the pad of his thumb, speeding along the process.

“What was that?” he taunted, feeling your legs start to shake.

A moan tore from your throat as you came around him, body slumping against his as he shoved himself deeper inside you. He wanted to feel your body tensed around him.

“That’s it,” he drawled, pressing his face to the side of your head. He inhaled, letting your scent flood him. Every sense was overwhelmed by you and if anything, it made him hunger for even more.

You became more pliable in your daze, going easily when Coriolanus laid you back down on the cold ground. He planted one hand on the ground near your head, where he held most of his weight, while the other rested on the base of your neck. Not squeezing, just resting. Reminding you of before.

Now that he’d taken care of you, made you realize the pleasure he could inflict upon you, it was his turn. Coriolanus was relentless with the thrust of his cock inside you, stretching you around him, groaning with nearly every movement. You felt so good, he never wanted to leave the warmth of your body.

You shifted beneath him, squirming as the intense feeling. Coriolanus was tempted to drag it out, to watch your face as the pleasure became too much for you to handle.

If it wasn’t for the desire to fill you, to claim you, he would’ve. There would be more times after this, he’d ensure it. He didn’t own a lot, but he treasured the things that he did.

“I can’t let you go, not now.” He meant to keep it inside his head, but the words spilled out. “You’re the only thing I want.”

At that moment, it was true.

Coriolanus gave one final shove of his hips before spilling inside of you. It crashed over him in an unexpected wave. His whole body shivered with pleasure at the feel of your body milking him. You wanted him. Your denial would eventually fade. He was sure of it.

Coriolanus let out a heavy sigh of your name as he watched your face. You’d turned your head, wincing as he filled you to the brim.

“Hey,” Coriolanus said when he finished, voice low. He ran a delicate hand over your face, persuading you to open your eyes. “We’re okay.”

As much as he didn’t want to, Coriolanus withdrew from you. You’d given up fighting against him, so he took the opportunity to help you redress. You were so pliant, it was like dressing a doll.

You rested your arms on your knees when he made you sit up. He wasn’t keeping you from moving from the floor, you chose not to.

Coriolanus watched you cautiously, searching for the same fire in you before, trying to figure out if he’d somehow snuffed it out.

There was a nagging in his gut. It was only for a brief second, but his confidence wavered.

“Can you talk to me?” he pressed, laying a hand on your shoulder and he knelt across from you, pants readjusted.

It was as if nothing happened, but you both knew that was untrue.

“Why should I?” You wrinkled your nose as you focused on the ground.

“Because, I care about you,” Coriolanus replied without thought, gaze softening. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I don’t think you care for me,” you said in a tone so hushed, Coriolanus wasn’t sure if you even meant for him to hear. Then, you met his eyes. The fire had only been dulled, not put out. “I think you’re a liar, Coriolanus Snow.”

His hands fell to clasp yours. He brought one to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the back of your palm. You eyed him as if he were some sort of predator, but he managed a smile nonetheless.

“Let me prove it to you, and you’ll come to learn you’ve been wrong about me all along.”

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #yandere coriolanus snow #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #quin-ns writing

[zentraex]

Summary: You made a lot mistakes in your new job, but do you regret them? Nope, not a bit. But who can blame you for it? If you wouldn't have done them, you never would have met this pretty boy.

Remember: German Grammar is a lot different then English grammar. I apologize for any mistakes.

Pairing: Francis Mosses (doppelganger) x gn! Reader

(A/N): I usually write for mha, but this men dominates my fyp on TikTok and I can't stop grinning like an idiot about all this fanarts. My men is just too attractive for his own good. Nevertheless, Tumblr has too few fanfictions for him, so I had to do it myself. Still, I am not that proud about how it turned out. It certainly sounded better in my head, but I don't care. One shitty fanficion is better than none.

Art by @asteriscks on TikTok

This game is not mine, but Ignacio Alvarado. I also used phrases from the game.

Mistakes? Yes, but no regrets.

It's been a week since you started working for D.D.D as a doorman. 

You can remember your first day so well, it could have been yesterday. 

Well... probably because your life is constantly at stake. 

_

It started with a mistake that you ended up here. It was completely unexpected since you always made sure, that you sent your rent to the right account. 

Surely no one can blame you for a small typo, right?

Well, your landlord, who kept pounding on your door until you woke up, surely did.

"What?" you asked, annoyed, as you opened the door.

"When do you plan to finally pay your bill? The date has already been overdue for two weeks!" he complains. 

What?

"Sorry, but I've already transferred my money to you."

"Well, I didn't get anything. Do you still have the receipt for the transfer?"

"No..."

You already knew what that meant: double payment.

"Look, today, I'll transfer it to your account again, okay? If it doesn't work this time, it's not my fault."

You were about to close the door, but your landlord had other plans when he held the door open with his foot.

 "No no no. You will give me the money now. I don’t trust you. Why would you transfer it to me today, when it should have happened two weeks ago. You will give it to me now."

Your eyes widened. 

Now?

"But I don't have that much money in my hand? Who's got that?"

"Then I'll have to kick you out for now. But don't worry, no one is going to buy an apartment here anytime soon, so you can move right back in as soon as you give me the money."

Staring stunned at his smiling face you could have sworn you were about to hit him. 

"The keys?" 

With watery eyes, you grabbed your keys, placed them in his outstretched hand, and frowned.

What kind of person had such sharp fingernails as he does?  

You were sure that he could definitely have stabbed someone with them.

Thank God, I didn't hit him. 

"When do you plan to give me the money? I've heard that all banks closed today. Some kind of holiday among them, I've heard."

What!?

How were you going to get through the day today? You intentionally left everything in your apartment since you were so sure that you could have given the money to your landlord in a matter of minutes. 

"You’re telling me this now!?"

"If you had paid, you wouldn’t need to know." 

That filthy bastard.

No matter how angry you were at that moment, your panic was overweighting.  

What were you going to do now? 

Shit.

"Man, I really wouldn't want to be in your situation...", the landlord murmured.

Fuck the nails- This guy deserves a punch.

Just as you raised your fist, he speaks again.

"But maybe we can agree on something.

Then you stopped. 

"The D.D.D., which is responsible for the safety of all residents in this area, is looking for doormans. Ours has recently...quitted, which is why we are urgently looking for one. They pay three times the amount of your rent in a week. If you take the job, I can overlook your sloppiness this time."

Three times your rent? In a week? And for what? To sit there and check a few documents. You'd be crazy not to take the offer! 

"Okay. I'll do it. Where can I apply?"

"Don't worry, I'll sort it out for you. Tomorrow, you can start”

_

Looking back, it should have been clear to you that something was wrong. Starting with the sudden his sudden threat, the fingernails and this stupid story about the holiday of the banks. 

Maybe it was just because you were too panicked at that moment to think rationally.

But let’s be true here: when are you thinking rationally? If you did, you would certainly have quitted after your first day.

_

"Welcome and congratulations on your new job."

After watching the short video, a man in the yellow suit came to your window. You are so shocked that you can’t even answer.

I'm going to die today!

After all, you know it yourself: you're too gullible for the job. There's no chance you'll unmask a doppelganger who copies someone well.

“As you could see on the introductory film, your job is to verify the entry of the neighbors of your building. Each day there will be a list of individuals who will request entry to the building. It is possible that there are individuals who request entry and aren’t on the list. In which case you will mark on the checklist that they are not on the list and proceed to question the individual. Also, you must verify that the ID and the entry reqest are correct and have the respective D.D.D. logo. Don’t forget to also check the expiration on the IDs. Remember it’s Febuary 1955."

Your gaze wanders to the note that was stuck to the wall. 

Arnold Schmicht F02 – 01

Anastacha Mikaelys F02 – 04

Robertsky Peachman F01 – 02

Steven Rudboys F03 – 03 

Mia Stone F03 – 01

Rafttellyn Cappuccin F03 – 04

Admittedly, you don't know any of your neighbors, neither by character nor really by sight. You were never the type to care about your neighbors. 

"I wish you good luck."

C’mon Reader, be like Henry…

But better.

The first inhabitant was Mia Stone and you already started to sweat.

"Good evening."

Was she real? Was she a doppelganger? 

With shaky hands, you reached for her ID and entry pass, only to find that everything was fine. She was also on today's list and her appearance doesn't show any deviations either, right?

Just to be sure, you looked into the folder that described her appearance: 

Long hair

Small round nose

She has freckles

...

...

...

Freckles?

Your eyes wandered again to the woman in front of you, who was waiting patiently behind the window. 

You narrowed your eyes a little and leaned forward to get a better view of her.

No matter how long you stared at her, you didn't see them, her freckles. 

"You look different...", you murmur after a while.

"What's wrong with my appearance? I think everything is fine with my appearance."

Her photo on her ID and Entry Pass both have no freckles. 

Perhaps a mistake on the part of the D.D.D.? 

You're about to press the green button, but then you see her grinning slightly out of the corner of your eye. 

Shit. 

She almost had you. You're really not made for this job.

Your hand slammed hard against the red button, causing the siren to blare and the metal window to crash down. 

"3312," you murmur to yourself.

"You have contacted the D.D.D.. A group of agents has been sent to your building. Please wait for the cleaning protocol to run."

Cleaning protocol? 

What happens to those who were cleaned? They certainly won't be killed, will they? 

What if they will?

What if your judgment was wrong?

What if...

Your thoughts were interrupted as the siren fell silent and the metal window went up, only to reveal the yellow man.

"Cleaning protocol completed. You can continue your job."

It took a while until someone finally came again. 

This time, your heart was pounding faster. Significantly faster. And this time, you can't even say for sure that it's all out of fear. 

Milkman...

You definitely can't deny it: he's probably one of the most attractive men you've ever seen. 

You don't even have to look at today's checklist to tell he's not on it – a face like his would have caught your eye right away. 

"Francis Mosses, huh?" you murmured to yourself as you looked at his ID. "You're not on today's list."

"I’m not on today’s list because I had to leave due to an emergency."

Long nose

Thin chin

Tired eyes

Short hair

Wears a hat

It all fit. The only thing left now was a call. 

Just as you began to spin the wheel of the phone, he said, "You're new here, aren't you? I've never seen you here before."

"Yes, today is my first day."

"Must be hard, huh? I've heard that more and more doppelgangers are appearing and they are becoming more and more error-free. It would be a shame if such a pretty face as yours were to disappear forever."

Your cheeks turn red and suddenly you feel shyer than you actually are.

"B-But your job has to be hard as well. I didn't think that being a milkman would rob you so much sleep."

Francis smiles a little. So little that you almost didn't see it at all.

"It's not. I just stay up for a very long time. If you like, I can bring you some milk sometime. It's refreshing, calms the nerves."

You bite your lip slightly when you have to refrain from a question.

What milk do you mean exactly?

My God, why were you just such a sucker for handsome men?

"I'd be delighted, Francis."

You talked to him for a while and you quickly forgot that you were actually going to call someone. 

"I'd like to talk to you more, but I don't want to stop you from your work. I'll see you tomorrow, right, Reader?"

And you quickly forgot that you never told him your name. 

You pressed the green button.

_

"Shh," whispered the voice of Francis next to your ear. 

It was your third day, your third time to change shift.

Well, it usually would have been.

Your vision and mouth were blocked by the bloody hands of the doppelganger who claimed to be Francis.

He had killed the doorman, that should have taken over your shift.

You had to admit, that you were more than inconsiderate. After all, you didn't ask for his entry pass, nor the reason why he wasn't on today's list.  

"I'll let you go now, yeah? No wrong move, okay?"

He laughed softly as he released his hands from you and turned your chair, so you were facing him. 

"We don't want to hurt you, do we, Reader?"

The sentence shouldn't have given you hope, because after all, you were more than sure that you were going to die one way or another.

Maybe you should have shown a little resistance. For your honor, but....

Oh?

He is so close to you that you can practically feel his body heat. Or was it your own? Your face, despite your situation, was burning. 

Even though he said he was letting you go, his hands ran over your body and you couldn't deny that it did something to you. 

Were you so shameful?

"Actually, I wanted to wait, but I couldn't take it anymore.  I've been patient long enough, haven't I? It was so much work for me, to let you get this job."

You didn't know what to say. Honestly, you didn't know if you would even be able to answer him. 

His breath touched your throat as he spoke, "I think I deserve this, don't I? What do you say, Reader? Do I deserve my reward?”

If you were going to die anyway, why not enjoy the last few minutes?

Regardless of whether he was a doppelganger, he had lived up to his title as "Mlikman" that night.

_

"You killed the real Francis Mosses?" you asked the next day. 

Francis grins, almost so much so that his real form was threatening to show itself.

"Yes, of course. What would have happened if he had come before me? You would have sent the D.D.D. after me."

Well, he had a point, huh?

No matter how wrong it was, you were glad it didn't come to that. 

You didn't know the real Francis Mosses. That's probably why his death was so insignificant to you.

"Have you killed more people?"

"Just more doppelgangers you let through."

Your eyes widened. 

You were so sure you caught them all. The false success was the reason why you didn't quit…well, it was one of the reasons.

"How many have I let through?"

Francis just continues to wear his smirk as he gives you a kiss on the forehead.

"Don't rack your pretty head over it, okay?"

You just nod, smiling.

"Are you going to kill others...?

You don't know why you added your next question. Probably because you wanted to feel special. 

"Would you kill for me?"

"Hooooonn"

When you turn your gaze to his face, two white pupils stared at you and his grin is inhumanly wide and black. 

You don't know if it's joyful or sadistic, but it definitely made you feel special.

_

Looking back, you made more than a few mistakes. 

But honestly? 

You don't regret a single one of them. After all, all of them have led to an all-too-familiar knock on your window.

When you look up, he waves, the milkman. 

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #x reader #x gn reader #x you #x y/n #yandere #milkman #milkman x reader #that's not my neighbor x reader #yandere francis mosses #yandere milkman

[luveline]

would you ever write about hotch pining after r because he thinks she’s interested in someone else but then she confesses to him that she’s only ever had eyes for him 🥹

You’re shocked Hotch will let them look at him, honestly. When was the last time you saw Hotch receive medical attention? He doesn’t seem happy about it, suit jacket folded in his lap, his shirt cut in three places, most noticeably the left sleeve. 

“His arm is definitely broken,” Spencer tells you. 

“Do you think he’ll let me give him some comfort?” you ask, the two of you with your arms crossed against the side of the second ambulance, where Morgan undergoes a similarly reluctant checkup for his bloody temple. 

“No. You can always try, though. He’ll appreciate the effort.” 

You ready yourself with a deep breath and begin the short walk. It feels long then suddenly over at the same time. The only thing between you and Hotch now is a shoe’s width and the EMT securing his temporary sling. 

“They’re making me an emergency appointment,” he tells you. 

You fight the urge to rub the toe of your shoe into the ground. “Are you in pain?” 

“No. They gave me tramadol.” 

Hotch pushed you hard out of the way of a brawl and took blows meant for you in turn. He never lets you get hurt in the field. At first you’d assumed him to be the overprotective boss, and careful of women in the team, but you’ve caught on now that his motivation wells from somewhere deeper. 

Hotch loves you. He won’t tell you. You have no idea why. 

The EMT says she’ll return and takes her leave. You nod to the patch of metal flooring beside him, legs too tired to keep standing, and Hotch moves over to leave a gap between you suitable for turning into. You sit down with a sigh. Face to face, this close, you can see the different colours of his iris and the scar under his eyebrow clear as day. 

“You okay?” 

“Are you?” he asks with nothing more than a single short nod. 

“I’m worried about you,” you confess. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t like you getting hurt in my place.” 

“I’m your Unit Chief.” 

“If it were Morgan, you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way. If it were Emily. And we both know I can hold my own.”

He doesn’t look away from your face. “I know.” 

You’re finding it hard to want to scold him. You love him, too. You appreciate what it takes for him to take a fight that was meant for you, and the sentiment behind it. You’d quite like for him to protect you, just not at work. He could glare down potential suitors or argue with people who are rude to you at the grocery store. He doesn’t need to do your job for you. 

You raise your hand tentatively to his face, ignoring his confusion as you rake the hair that falls against his forehead back up. “It’s getting a little long for you.” 

“I’ve been busy.” 

“Me too. I keep meaning to do so much stuff but we get home and I get to my apartment and I just sleep for days.” 

“I wish I did something that sensible.” 

You curl your fingers over his shoulder. Without his suit jacket, you can feel the solidness of his muscle and soft tissue clearly. You rub your thumb in a half circle. 

“Why don’t you sleep much? I wish you would.” 

His eyes flare momentarily. His only tell, a flicker of movement you can’t miss. He’s surprised by something, your question, maybe your tone. “I do sleep.” 

“Not enough.” 

“No, I guess not.” 

You press your cheek to his arm. Can’t help yourself. He’s this strong, stern guy, so used to trying to save everyone that he barely looks after himself, and it makes you sad to think he’d love you and not want to tell you, because why wouldn’t he? Something in him must stop him from acting on it, but that something isn’t in you, not anymore. “Can’t believe you got your arm broken for me,” you murmur, lips to his shirt. You let out a breath, feel the warmth of it pass onto his skin and his following shudder. 

“It wasn’t purposeful.” 

“No? That’s good.” 

“I would do it again,” he says. “I thought you’d be with Morgan.” 

“Morgan’s a big boy.” 

“As opposed to me.” 

“I want to be here with you. I’m worried about you.” You press your face further into his arm, scared to say it even though you know it’s returned. “I care about you so much, ‘n’ you never let me show it.”

“That’s not true,” —his voice climbs higher— “I thought… You and Derek are close.” 

“He’s my friend, Hotch. It’s not like that.” 

Hesitant, tender all the same, Hotch’s uninjured arm slinks around your side to hold you, to bring you closer to his side where you’re hiding. You’re much too old for this, and still you have to confess. 

“I don’t like him,” you say. 

“As opposed to me.” 

You laugh at his repetition. Too embarrassed to say anything more on the subject but wanting to cement it in his head, you raise your head and your hand at the same time, knuckle to his jawline, nudging him to one side. You lean up and kiss his cheek. 

“Please don’t push me out of the way again,” you say. 

Hotch smiles at you, a proper, soft-eyed smile. “I won’t.” 

It’s an obvious lie. 

“Maybe when we go home we can nap together,” you suggest, heart slamming considering the innocence of what you’ve suggested. 

His fingers cradle your side. “You want to?” he asks carefully. 

“You can finally get some rest.” 

He closes his eyes, resting his face against yours. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

[ghostfacd]

I’M A JEALOUS, JEALOUS, JEALOUS, BOY. | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. after gaining massive popularity, you star another show where you have to kiss your co star, which tom isn’t exactly happy about

AUTHOR NOTE. Two posts in one day? Who am I??anyway! This was self indulging because I love Steven Conklin and nobody writes for him 😔 As always, reblogs and comments make me more motivated to continue this series :)

installment of this au | the reader plays fictional character “ella fisher” in tsitp!

Tom wasn’t a jealous guy, at least, he didn’t think so. He was very secure in your relationship, always making sure he didn’t let his emotions get the best of him.

Like when you told him you had gotten the role of Conrad and Jeremiah Fisher’s sister in The Summer I Turned Pretty, and how you were Steven Conklin’s love interest, he congratulated you with a big hug.

He knew who was playing Steven—Sean Kaufman. There was no doubt that Steven was a very charming guy.

“You’re here!” You say giddily, engulfing your boyfriend in a hug when he approached you. “Daisy was just patching up the last of my concealer. Did you get any food?”

Daisy was your makeup artist—and one of the sweetest girls you’ve ever met in your life. She knew the cast pretty well, so when you first got here, she helped break the ice between you and them.

“You know I did,” Tom says, placing the paper bag down on your table. He opened it up, retrieving an iced matcha latte and a poke bowl. You squealed in delight, excited to eat after filming for so long.

“So how was your day?” You say, cheekily grinning at him as you ate your bowl.

“Tiring? I did a photo shoot, it was fun. Then I went home and took a nap, and then I drove to buy you food.”

“Well thank you babe,” you say. “Today was such an exhausting day, so much retakes cause of all the sand. But God do I love this show to death. It’s so much all at once but in a good way, you know?”

“Well I’m just excited to see my girl on the big screen,” Tom smiles, leaning in to give you a kiss on your forehead.

“YN! Time to film again!” The voice of your director calls out, making you shove your bowl into Tom’s hands and rushing over to the cameramen.

Tom carefully places your bowl down, walking over quietly behind the cameras to watch your scene up close.

He watches as you talk to Lola, who plays Belly, about your plans after high school, and how you wanted to apply for Princeton just like Steven. She rolls her eyes, saying how she doesn’t get how you and Steven get along so well.

Later in the scene, you and Sean sit close together in front of a campfire. Tom remembers vividly of you telling him there was a scene between your character and Steven where the two of you would get extremely close. Tom feels his breath hitch when he sees Sean make you laugh. He knows that it’s just acting—that your character and Sean’s character are love interests in the show, and that it means nothing in real life.

But he just feels so weird. His stomach is in knots, and it feels like his mouth is dry.

“You know,” Sean begins, leaning in close to your face. “I know Belly doesn’t want me liking any of her friends, and your brothers would totally kill me if they knew; but you’re making it so hard.”

“Really Steven?” You fake giggle, leaning closer to his touch. “Well they don’t have to know.”

Sean laughs at your comment, his head falling against your shoulder, something that Tom had always done with you.

And then he sees the director cue the cameramen to zoom in, and then there it is. — You and Sean kiss, and Tom feels his feet move away from the scene without even realizing.

“And… cut!” The director says, clapping. “Good job Sean and Y/N! You really captured the tension between Steven and Ella. That’s a wrap!”

You hug Sean afterwards, the two of you laughing about how stupid the kiss must’ve looked but you knew the viewers would eat it up once the episodes aired.

“Where’s that boyfriend of yours?” Gavin asks, suddenly showing up behind you and Sean.

“Gavin!” You say, putting your hand to your chest. “Way to scare a girl to death!”

Gavin laughs, poking at your sides teasingly. “Just kidding, I know where he is. Stormed off where Lola and Christopher are standing.”

“Storm off?” You say, confused.

“Seems like lover boy wasn’t too keen on you kissing our Sean over here.”

You quickly make your way towards where Lola and Christopher were standing, and just like Gavin had said, Tom was standing behind them. He didn’t look too happy.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, pulling the boy away for some privacy.

“It’s nothing.”

“Oh c’mon,” you scoff. “It can’t be nothing. Gavin said you stormed off earlier.”

Tom sighs, clearly wanting to drop the topic. But one look into your genuine concerned eyes makes him crack.

“I was jealous.” He admits, biting his lip back in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

You bite back a smile, arms linking with his. “Awe babe, it’s okay. Just acting. Just like how you kissed Rachel in the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah,” Tom sighs, bringing your body close to his. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have felt that way.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, smiling brightly. “Feeling jealous is bound to happen with our job, as long as we communicate about it, everything will be fine.” You hug his side, snuggling your face into his coat. “Plus, you know Sean has a girlfriend, right?”

“What?” Tom seems baffled, but he quickly covers it up. “No, yeah, I knew that.”

“Uh huh,” you tease, “don’t worry Tom, I love you the most.”

He leans down, making eye contact with you. “Well I sure hope so, because I love you the most as well.”

And everything was perfect until Gavin lets out a fake barf, telling the two of you to “get a room”.

“Oh get out of here Gav!” You say, shooing him away.

“Yeah Gavin, let the couple have their moment!”

That makes everyone laugh, and you swore you never felt happier than you did right now.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas #tbosas #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games

[writersdrug]

Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2

<- Previous - Next ->

Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep

A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!

Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.

here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.

Simon.

You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.

Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!

Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?

See you soon!

You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.

So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.

Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.

she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.

Simon.

You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.

You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.

Understood. Thanks again!

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

"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.

You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.

You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?

"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."

You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.

"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."

You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"

Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"

"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.

He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."

You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"

Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.

He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.

But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.

"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."

"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...

He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.

You faltered. "Sorry...?"

"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"

You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.

"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.

He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.

"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.

"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.

"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"

He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."

Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.

"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.

Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.

But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?

He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-

Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.

Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."

He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.

He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.

Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.

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

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost #simon riley x reader smut #ghost x reader smut #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #cod fanfiction #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod #cod x reader

[evasive-anon]

Jason Attacking Tim at Titans Tower

Fanon vs Canon

We've all seen the versions in fanfiction but I'm not so sure everyone's seen the original so if you're one of those batfam fans who doesn't want to read the comics (regardless of reasons) but you are curious about how it actually went this is for you.

What I'm addressing:

What does Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?

Did Jason drug all the other Titans?

Did Jason really wear a Robin costume?

Did Jason slit Tim's throat or call him replacement?

Did Jason actually break Tim's bo staff?

Was Tim crying or scared?

Did Jason write a message on the wall in Tim's blood?

Did Jason's eyes glow green?/Did he follow pit rage mechanics?

Panels and details below. This is a LONG one.

What did Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?

Dialogue in fanfiction during the Titans Tower attack varies based on what kind of fic you're reading but usually its either 'time to clip Replacement's wings' if its staying a beatdown whump 'or oh no precious lil bby why is no one watching you' if its an accidental child acquisition. Not judging either option, but this ain't about them its about the real shit.

Look at these opening lines:

Hey, Tim. I was here first.You're the Red Hood. You've been cleaning up Gotham the easy way. Easy? What do you know about easy, Tim? You had a father that looked after you. You went to a private school, right? You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets, I lived in the alleyways in Gotham. Trying to survive. Until Bruce took me in. I trained as hard as I could. I did whatever he asked. . . at least at first. But it didn't matter. They said I wasn't tough enough to be robin. But today, they say you are. Show me, Tim. Show me what you have that I didn't.

Jason really puts himself out there in all of his dialogue in this encounter, the struggle of having to fight for anything and everything he got in life, even the things that came to everyone else for free, and then being told he wasn't even good enough for the things he fought for.

There's a trope in fanfics that if Jason knew Tim stalked Batman and forced his way into being Robin that it would change how Jason felt about the situation but that's even addressed in this comic:

You were a kid, worried about how Batman was spiraling down into darkness. You spent weeks tracking the dark knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. Millionaire Bruce Wayne. You were so pleased with yourself, I'm sure that you forgot who you were really dealing with. I know Bruce Wayne. And let me tell you, Tim if someone was trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was stalking him for weeks. He'd know about it. You can't be that good. I am. He let you find him. And I bet he said the same thing to you as he did to me, didn't he? That you had a talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light to his darkness. Robin, the Boy Wonder.

Tim saying 'I am' is really such a moment that doesn't come through in text because he is right that he really did do that but I also completely understand why Jason wouldn't believe it.

TBH my favorite part is how done Tim honestly sounds with Jason thoughout all his trauma dumping. Like imagine a grown man who used to work the same part time job as you breaking into your house, dressing up in your work uniform, ranting about how much the job ruined his life while he beats your ass??? God, and he probably had to write a fucking report about it after. RIP Timmy.

What do you want? Do you want to be Robin again? Is that it? You... want to take it away from me? Why in the hell would I ever want that? Don't you get it? When I died no one cared! No one remembered me. Are you completely insane? No one could forget you. I've spent my entire career wearing this mask under your shadow. I had to convince Batman to let me try this. All because he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to you. You ask me, that's the only reason he hasn't taken you down. He's holding back. But me? No freakin' way. That's the Robin I wanted to see. Still. You do realize the whole idea of training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate is a mistake. It didn't even surprise anyone when I died. When I failed. I failed-- but I'm still beating you. Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? Yes.

Tim bashing Jason across the face as he says 'no freakin' way'? *chefs kiss*

Jason drugging the other Titans to knock them out?

Little bit true, Kory was actually just already away from the tower and BB and Cyborg were about to bounce because of the drama going on with Donna's return but Jason like super tazes them and then drugs Raven who he thought already went through enough shit without him knocking her out violently.

Note: Jason says in the text here that he never rolled with Cyborg or BB but like he actually did in some comics so?? The continuity is lie I guess idk.

Did he show up in Red Hood gear or a Robin costume?

Both tbh but he spent most of the time in the Robin costume but bro actually made a stripper rip away version of his Red Hood gear so he could dramatically reveal the Robin costume underneath. I can't believe no one ever includes that in their fics its so fucking funny.

Does he call Tim 'replacement' or slit his throat?

No, this came from a Batman comic with Hush not Teen Titans. That incident takes place in a graveyard not Titans Tower and he calls Tim pretender not replacement.

Does Jason break Tim's staff?

Tragically, no. The bo staff snap would have been iconic. Instead he just takes Tim's staff and beats Tim up with it and breaks stuff. BUT!! He uses it to bust a statue in the TITANS MEMORIAL ROOM which is a place in Titans Tower just for having statues of dead previous titans and Jason is rightfully pissed he didn't get one. Like Tim is correct in saying no one forgot him still but like I would be hurt too if all my friends made cool statues of friends that died and then just left my zombie ass out, like wtf.

Note: I am seriously losing my shit that I have never seen someone bring up the memorial room in a fanfic. That is so much angst material. 😭

Tim crying/ being scared?

Hell no. He's a fucking Robin you know he's being a sassy boy the whole time, even towards the end when he's about done he's still saying he's her and I love Tim for that.

Note: There are a few different times where Tim does a flippy Robin move and then Jason just fucking copies it like flexing that he can do it too, and its just so petty and stupid he's trying so hard to be better than an actual child. 💀I get why in the context of the situation but its still so ridiculous.

Message on the wall in Tim's blood?

TBH I really don't know for sure on this one?? Like its implied that he did but Tim isn't bleeding all that much throughout this beatdown and like we don't see Jason do it just the Titans reacting to seeing it after. It could be Tim's blood, it could be red paint, and it could even be that Jason packed an actual bucket of blood to bring with him to write a message with after he finished. TBH the world is your oyster on this one.

Note: If anyone can find another comic where this event was brought up where they actually clarify it was Tim's blood hmu and I'll update this but I couldn't find any.

Pit rage/ glowing green eyes?

Fanon only at this point in the comics. Jason is seems to be himself and even thinks Tim and his friends are pretty cool at the end, and he's just like reflecting on if he had good friends if he would have turned out better as he leaves.

#tim drake #jason todd #red hood #robin dc #teen titans #comic panels #jason and tim #teen titans 2003 #dc comics #panels are from teen titans (2003) issue 29 #i would never tell anyone they have to read comics but i do think seeing the original scene of fanon favs is good #not because you need to follow them but because its good to know what you're taking inspo from #jason attacking tim at titans tower #LONG POST

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Is it so hard to ask that sabo follow his dream he had when he was a kid? IS IT??????

Also, his boat was commissioned from Franky! And he did a great job :)

Design talk:

Im gonna start with just sharing his canon designs

Colors:

Something i want to call attention to is the blue and black in his design.

When he was young, Sabo wore his heart on his sleeve. He had a dream for himself and was taking steps to complete it. Likewise, that blue on his coat is on full display its bright and vibrant and saturated. But also theres that dark blue, almost black, thats underneath it thats being hidden by that coat, the pants, and his tattered cravat. Likewise again, Sabo is hiding his darker side. He has secrets he doesn’t want his brothers to know of and he lets his aspirations and relationships he has with them outshine his past.

In his present design, that blue that was representative of his dreams, is now the one being hidden. Its covered by a complete black coat, a representative of the darkness in his life that now is drives him. This color switch up is symbolic for how he’s put off his dreams and kept it locked up (belt), while choosing instead to pursue a life of darkness for the greater good.

Also, these pictures of young sabo and young adult sabo, you can visually see how less saturated it is. The blue is duller of the coat/undershirt and even more-so with the pants. You can see how he’s much less vibrant than how he was.

In my Post-Story idea, what happens leading up to it is that Sabo succeeds in taking down the world government and after he’s sure the world can move on without him, he goes sailing alone as a pirate to write a book about the world, like he’s always wanted to do. Also, Luffy returns his straw hat to shanks.

So in my design, sabo wears a vibrant blue coat again. He’s living his dream and has nothing holding him back from doing it. The black is still used, and its not being covered, but its on his pants and his gloves. He still has that darkness, but he doesn’t use it as protection or as something to hide, rather as something he moves forwards and progresses with. He will never forget what pain and hardship he went through and he’s not trying to. However, whats underneath all the layers is not darkness or dreams, and its not necessarily being hidden either, its light. Not BRIGHT, but light. Mellow and calm. The settled true nature of a healed man.

I took more colors from his child design than i did with his young adult (YA) one, too. I wanted to show how he’s reconnecting with his younger self by bringing them through to his Post-Story look!

Also, since his journal is his dream, it is blue, as well.

———

Items of Clothing:

In both of his canon designs, there is a sense of properness. A top hat, cravat, tailcoat, etc etc.. Its all properness. But more than that, its the idea of responsibility.

Whether he acts responsible or not isn’t what matters in his case, instead its that he wants to look responsible. He wants this because a) he was a little kid who wanted to grow up too fast and be taken seriously, and b) because he has an incredible amount of responsibility being the second in command of the revolutionary army.

To further prove that, I would like to point out his silly little cravat. I love his cravat. But how the hell is that practical for his line of work? Sabo is concerned with being practical, hence his baggy/movable pants and leather gloves. Additionally, just the waist/trench coat, belt, top hat combo would suffice for a proper looking person, but it’s taken excessively with the cravat. The cravat is purely for appearances.

Further symbolism with his cravat, i think, is that this appearance is visually choking him. Its wrapped tightly around his neck when he was a child and when he was most under control of a much higher power. However, when he’s a YA, it’s a lot looser. He’s got some agency, but he’s still being suffocated by responsibilities.

On with my design.

I took away his cravat. Im sorry but it is SYMBOLIC!!!!!!! He is not worried anymore with appearances, he is Free.

I took away his top hat but not his goggles, too. I think that after Luffy gives back the straw hat, Sabo forgoes his hat as well. In solidarity, maybe. If you think about it, the top hat isnt what makes his hat so special, its the goggles. So i got rid of the hat and kept The Goggs. Although it is sad that they are no longer Hatted, as that is one of the beautiful appeals of ASL, they are no longer ASL.

I wanted to keep aspects of his YA design, since even though it is very perforative, its still a style that he’s stuck with since childhood, so he’s gotta like it in some capacity. I just tried to make everything look a lot looser/open on him.

Lastly, i gave him a bit of a beard cuz i think he deserves it.

———

Alright! If you got this far, thanks so much for reading my insane ramblings!!!! I fr feel like this rn 👇

Visually, sabo’s design is not too complex, at least not when you look at him next to Ace, but theres a lot of depth to it. I didnt even think of half of these notes before i started typing this up, its just the more time i look at it, the more i noticed!

#my art #one piece #monkey d. luffy #sabo #asl brothers #one piece fan art #sabo the revolutionary #post story au

[discopaddock]

WALKS - MAX VERSTAPPEN

PAIRING: max verstappen x fem!reader

SUMMARY: max has always been a cat dad. what happens when one of his cats leave him and a cute neighbour with an adorable dog finds it?

GENRE: fluff and nothing more

WORD COUNT: +/- 1.5k

WARNINGS: none

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hii! wrote this and then i go write all requests i promise, byeee

Life was good.

It really was since Y/N moved to her new apartment in Monaco. It was big, spacious and bright – everything a girl needed in life.

Well maybe not everything because she still didn't have that dog she dreamed of since childhood. Well she didn't until she did.

The young judge a month after moving in decided to go to France and adopt a dog.

That one little cavalier spaniel cost more than the rent for two months but did she really care? No, she didn't.

The little puppy was so beautiful and funny that Y/N couldn't regret taking her in. Hazelnut was one pretty dog who loved walks and her owner.

One day Hazelnut was sleeping in the sunlight at the balcony, while her owner was at work. Then someone jumped on the floor next to her, so she immediately woke up and saw a bengal cat. The puppy started to bark at the stranger who started hissing at the puppy as an answer.

And they would do that for the next few hours until Y/N showed up in her flat.

“Hazelnut! Where are you?” the girl yelled through the apartment, while she was taking off her heels. She quickly put them in the locker and walked to the balcony where she knew her little doggie was. “And who are you, little one?” she asked as she saw the cat, which was currently sitting on the window sill. Hazelnut was still angry at the cat and didn't stop barking until Y/N started to scratch her behind her left ear. “Don’t be so rude Hazelnut, you know you're my one and only” the girl told her dog and looked at the cat again.

It looked like it didn't care at all that it wasn't with their owner and it seemed to enjoy the fact that it was in someone's else's apartment.

“Come on, Hazelnut, I need to eat first, then I start to think what to do with our guest” the girl told the dog and took her to the kitchen.

Y/N opened the fridge and sighed only. She forgot to do the groceries, again. Work was taking her whole time and some days she even forgot to walk Hazelnut before going to sleep.

“Okay, we have to find the owner first” she sighed and walked to get the cat from the balcony. It easily found comfort in her arms and purred, while she was carrying it.

All Y/N knew was that anybody on her floor didn't have a cat, so it had to live on some upper floor. Thankfully there were only two upper floors and at one was only one penthouse.

She quickly knocked on someone's door. A woman opened it and only smiled when she saw the cat.

“Hello, is this your cat?” Y/N asked with a warm smile, thinking that she already found the owner with the first try.

“No, he's not” the woman laughed only. “His owner lives in the penthouse upstairs,” she added. “He was asking for him, so quickly go upstairs because Max's probably shaking right now” she laughed again and the girl only nodded.

“Thank you, have a nice day” she said and the woman wished her the same. The girl quickly grabbed Hazelnut’s lead and stepped on the stairs.

Y/N finally stepped in front of a wooden door that looked extremely expensive (her door didn't look so) and pressed the doorbell button. She waited for like half a minute when the door opened.

“Hello, I’ve heard that this is your cat,” the girl smiled a bit, when she saw a devilishly handsome guy, around her age with blonde hair, moustache and huge blue eyes. He only sighed with relief when he saw his cat in her arms and smiled back at her.

“Yes, hi, it's mine” the guy said and carefully took the cat from Y/N's arms and put it on the floor next. “I’m really sorry, Sassy doesn't usually run away like that, it's Jimmy's job tho. But also thank you very much, that cat is really dear to me” he laughed a bit and then Hazelnut started to jump on his legs and sniff him. “I’m Max by the way” he giggled and squatted to play with the puppy. “And you?”

“I’m Y/N,” she answered, smiling. Her little dog was wagging her tail and smiling. Hazelnut was smiling and it wasn't caused by Y/N.

“Such a beautiful dog,” Max said, while petting Hazelnut. “Do you want to come in? I can assure you that I have a lot of space inside” he asked and looked at her face but she just couldn't say yes. She was starving at that moment.

“It’s really nice of you but I have to do grocery shopping and go on a walk with Hazelnut” the girl answered, her expression sad.

Max was such a good looking man, she wanted to know him better.

“Oh, no, it's okay,” he said with a warm smile. She was such a pretty girl, he wanted to know her better. “Maybe I can go on that walk with you? We can grab some coffee after. I really want to thank you for finding Sassy” he said.

Y/N felt something moving in her stomach. How could she say no to him? Him an absolute Greek god.

“Okay” she said. “I’ll be here when I'm ready, okay?” she asked and he only nodded and patted the doggie's head for the last time. “Bye Max!”

“Bye! See you later!”

Y/N quickly left Hazelnut in her apartment and grabbed her car keys. She quickly drove to the supermarket and bought everything she needed. This shopping was huge.

When she was standing in the elevator she was with a woman who was going on the highest floor, so to Max’s penthouse. Something shifted in Y/N. What if this was his girlfriend? Or wife? What if he was married and she just liked a married man just because he was good with her dog?

She went to her flat quickly and took some deep breaths while putting everything in its place. She almost broke the jar of tomato sauce but fortunately it didn't happen and she still had her dinner.

Then she quickly made herself pasta and tea and watched some news on TV in Italian to practice some language. She spoke French fluently but unfortunately didn't do the same with Italian and it was kinda difficult in her work as a judge because she couldn't understand everything.

When she was done, she brushed her teeth and took Hazelnut to Max's penthouse, praying he remembered about the walk. She pushed the doorbell again and waited. Waited for like two minutes until a small girl, probably five years old, opened the door. Then Max showed up and took the girl in his arms.

“Hi!” he said only with a smile. The little girl only waved at Y/N, also smiling.

“Hey” she replied, while Hazelnut ran at the man and started jumping at him.

“Can you give me one second? I just need to put on shoes” Max said and she only nodded. “Go to mum, uncle will be back soon” he told the little girl, who only hugged him and ran to her mother.

Max quickly grabbed his phone and keys and left the penthouse.

“Sorry, my friends visited” he said only, smiling at her.

“You can go back to them! They're your guests!” the girl said and Max only giggled.

“No! It's okay, they showed up without information before and I knew about this walk with you and this lady before, so they understand” he assured her as they were in the lift. “So what are you doing for a living? Because I don't think that you're Monégasque” he asked, giggling.

“I’m a judge, I work in court” she answered. “And yeah, I'm not from Monaco. I've been living here for three months now” she added. “And you?”

“I drive in Formula 1” he said and tried not to laugh at her reaction.

“I know that, I just didn't want to be some crazy fan. Do you know how hard that is?” she laughed and he only shook his head. She was such an adorable girl.

The walk went smoothly. And then the first date. And the next date.

“I’ll be watching you on Sunday” Y/N announced, watching Max as he was packing his clothes to the suitcase.

“You should really take some sleep. You don't need to watch every race” he said, looking at her, while zipping the suitcase. “Go to sleep on Sunday” he said, standing in front of her, his face extremely close to her.

“Make me” she answered, so he grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her. “Okay, I'll go to sleep on Sunday” she said and he only laughed, hugging her in his arms.

masterlist

#discopaddock #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fanfiction #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fluff

[sagesskies]

been reading a lot of qt bl recently, and this idea struck me:

imagine you've just transmigrated into a world where you're the second male lead's best friend, when him and the fl enter a rough patch in their relationship because seriously, that guy flirts with way too many girls despite being in a committed relationship, and this time the fl has had enough and breaks up with him.

the 2nd male lead just has a downward spiral, because he was super dependent on the fl, and you, doing your job as his best friend, give him words of encouragement, as you were instructed by the system. but when he, unexpectedly, asks you to do more than give him advice, and instead help him in the direct process of fixing their relationship, you can't exactly say no when he's asking you so pitifully with tears in his eyes.

so, you help him, concocting schemes to win the fl over, sabotage the 1st male lead, and the like. this is way more than the original best friend did, where he just said some encouraging words and then proceeded to dip out of the plot till the emotional climax where he gets hit by a car and the female lead and 2nd male lead supposedly "make up" and "date again" at least, till the 1st male lead wins her back over.

you're able to actually get closer to him as well, past the shallow mask that all humans don, and get to know him as more than just 'a playboy with unhealthy attachment issues'

you learn that he likes to play the guitar and sing, that he cries when watching romance movies, that his favorite color is purple, that he dreams of making a career out of his music, and that nobody ever believes he can.

but when you place your arm around his shoulder, and look deep into eyes and tell him that you do, you believe in him, you see the way that his eyes widen in surprise, and how tears start to well up in his eyes, but completely miss the way his cheeks start to redden.

you actually miss a lot of things. how he always remembers your coffee order, how he knows the way you like your eggs made, how he remembers your favorite show and movie, and knows your handwriting by how you write your m's.

you also miss how he wraps his arm around your waist, drapes his jacket over you when you get cold, and likes to loop his arms around your shoulders and cling to you like a koala does to a tree.

what you do notice is how he's stopped talking about the female lead as much, how he only asks you how you're doing, invites you out not to plan something but to instead just hang like friends would, and when you bring up how the female lead has started dating the 1st ml he just blinks, and then says "Okay, good for them," like he wasn't bemoaning how close they were only three months ago.

and what you are forced to see is that the only person he's feeling possessive over is you. he's always texting you, asking where you are, who you're with, and what you're doing. he's glaring at anybody who even breathes in your direction, and one time your friends told you he threatened them to leave you alone.

slowly, you start to distance yourself from him. you decline his offers to hang out, you avoid him on campus, and have even gone so far as to mute his notifications because he's been sending you so many messages.

the system is alerting you of his unnatural behavior, and you tell it that you're very aware, and trying your best to get the story back on track. but by god, is he making this so hard.

it all comes to a head when you hear pounding at your front door, the sound muffled by the heavy downpour of rain, and when you open it you're, sadly, not surprised to see that it's the 2nd male lead, clothes soaked and sobbing, he's telling you he misses you. that he doesn't know why you're avoiding him, but whatever he did he's sorry for it.

"Just don't ignore me, please [Name]," he whines, "If you do, I might die!"

how will you get yourself out of this mess now?

#tell me if you guys want me to do more of this pathetic little man #yandere male x reader #yandere x reader #male reader #x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere male x male reader #yandere male #yandere oc

[burnthoneydrops]

Language of Flowers (b.b. x fem!reader)

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: classism, use of "miss" and "y/n", stubborn mc

a/n: class differences in historical fiction have my heart and what better man to write them for than benedict! hope you enjoy and requests are open!

pt.2

For all your years helping run your family’s flower shop, you could not remember a day as memorable as this. You were in the back of the shop, cutting stems and bunching bundles of similar flowers together when you heard your little sister gasp from her spot in the doorway. Though gentlemen callers were not entirely uncommon, as flowers were a typical house gift when men went to call on their chosen lady, this one seemed to have caught her by surprise. 

“Who’s there Abigail?” you asked without turning around. “Abigail?” you asked again when she did not respond. It only took one look at the familiar chestnut head of hair to understand why your sister had gone as silent as Mayfair during the ton’s visits to the country. There stood a Bridgerton. Abigail had been obsessed with them ever since she got one of the printer apprentices to give her a copy of the gossip column the ton had been infatuated with. Anything that was ever written about them, Abigail had saved and regaled you when you were both in bed after a day’s work.  

“Y/N! I believe your expertise might be required,” your father called from the front of the shop, where he stood with parchment and a pencil, jotting down people’s requests. 

Abigail had not moved from her spot in the doorway, effectively blocking you out. “Abigail, I need to get through,” you waved a hand in front of her face but she did not move. She was utterly and entirely captivated, so you resorted to picking her up by her waist and moving her to the side. The perks of her being your little sister meant that moving her came easier to you than moving you did to her. 

“I was summoned?” You looked at your father who nodded at the man standing in front of him. “Yes sir, how can I help you today?” 

“I am here to buy flowers for a lady-” 

“What a novelty,” you muttered under your breath, glancing at the sheet your father had been working on moments before. 

“Pardon?” The man asked, clearly not expecting to be cut off in such a manner. 

“Apologies, good sir, you were saying?” 

“I am buying flowers for a lady. You see, my brother has crossed his wife and wants to apologise, but has no time for such an errand so he has sent me-” “He has truly no space to make time for apologising to his wife?” You interrupted again. 

“Do you interrupt every customer in this manner?” 

“Only the ones with ridiculous stories,” you countered. 

“I can assure you, despite how ridiculous it might sound, I speak nothing but the truth,” he looked at you, hoping you would change your mind. When you said nothing, he continued, “Now, I mentioned to your father earlier that I would like to gather flowers that mean an apology or makes it clear that the sender knows they have done some wrong-” “Ah, so you are keen on the language of flowers? I take it this has happened before then?” You interrupted yet again, raising a brow. 

“Apologies for my sister, my lord, she has been working long hours lately,” your older sister Jeanine stepped in. She gave you a harsh look as she finished her sentence, nonverbally telling you to scoot out of the way. You huffed and pushed the sheet of paper with the man’s order on it towards her before making your way to the back of the shop to finish the arrangements from before. 

It took Abigail no time at all to meet you back there, desperate to know how your interaction went. When you disappointed her with the fact that you had absolutely no thrilling news to report back, she smacked your arm and grabbed some flowers from the vases in the corner, complaining that you should have done a better job. 

“Well perhaps if he was not exactly like all other men who enter this shop then I would have something interesting to share with you,” you responded, grabbing some baby’s breath to add in. 

Jeanine came to greet you both with the sheet of parchment in hand, “something with an apology and sorrow but also suggesting forgiveness,” she muttered, looking at the selection in front of her. 

“White roses, forget-me-nots, and pink tulips,” you commented without looking at her. 

“If only you could do your job that easily in front of the customers”. 

“If the customers were not all so alike and insufferable perhaps I could”. 

“That poor Bridgerton did nothing to you and you know it,” Jeanine tried. 

“He irked me, is that not enough?” 

“Not when we are trying to keep a business afloat, no,” Jeanine replied as she stepped back onto the main floor to have Mr. Bridgerton pick the colour of ribbon with which the bouquet would be tied together. “Now there you are Mr. Bridgerton, and if I could grab a first name to keep our records in order and for possible future transactions?” Jeanine asked as she handed over the bouquet. 

“Do I truly look so similar to my brothers that you cannot tell us apart?” Mr. Bridgerton jested, at least you hoped he was jesting. 

“It is that arrogance that irritates me to be sure,” you muttered to Abigail. 

“It is merely a formality my lord,” Jeanine laughed lightly as she looked at him expectantly. 

“Benedict then, Benedict Bridgerton,” he placed the pound notes on the counter and picked up the bouquet, wishing Jeanine a pleasant day before scurrying away. 

So the annoyance finally had a name.

A few days had passed, and it felt like you had pushed the interaction successfully out of your mind, when the universe decided to spite you once again. You had already been at the front of the shop this morning, but you wished to do nothing other than sink to the floor or send one of your sisters in your place. 

“So we meet again,” Benedict announced, overly joyful.

“Well you did just walk into the shop my family happens to own-”

“I was hoping to make your acquaintance once again-” “At least one of us seems happy about it,” you conversed over each other, making it appear as if the dialogue had no point of breath. 

“I firstly wished to inform you that the flowers worked wonders and greatly aided my brother in his apology-” “Wonderful, now if that is all there is quite the queue forming behind you-”

“And that I have a plan to get you to change your mind,” Benedict finished his thought and it struck you silent. You must have done two or three big, slow blinks before what he said fully sank in, leaving you only more confused. “I must say, it is much easier to think when you are not constantly fighting back at me,” he smiled and you wanted to reach over the counter and smack that smile clean off his face. 

“Change my mind? On the flowers? I thought you said they were a great success?” 

“Oh no, not about the flowers,” he waved his finger back and forth in front of you, “about me”. 

“About you?” You questioned with raised brows, a scoff of disbelief escaping past your lips. 

“Yes. I noticed the other day we left off on quite the wrong foot and I would like to change your mind”. 

“And why do you think that is Mr. Bridgerton?” you bent your elbows a little and leaned closer into him from your spot over the counter. 

“Well I was not entirely sure, but I figured if I could get 10 minutes alone with you, your opinion of me would be much improved”. 

“Has anyone ever told you they do not like you Mr. Bridgerton? Has anyone, especially someone below your status, been honest enough with you to display how they truly feel about you? You might consider that notion and find the root of our problem there. I know you do not care much for your high society Mr. Bridgerton,” you noticed his ears prick up, so to quickly shut him down, “and do not think too deeply about my knowing of you for Lady Whistledown has printed much more than I cared to know, but as soon as someone is off with you, you suddenly become interested. Your ego is much too inflated to reason with the fact that some people just might not like you, present company included, and you cannot stand it”. 

Now it was Benedict’s turn to blink slowly, as your speech had halted all his energy to a standstill. “Good day, Mr. Bridgerton,” you shooed him out of the shop with your hand, waving forward the next customer who had been waiting very awkwardly a few paces behind this encounter. You sighed deeply, mentally resetting yourself back to your more demure customer service appearance.

Mr. Bridgerton had not been back for at least two weeks, not that you were counting of course, and though you claimed you were not thinking about him, you hated to admit how much that man had taken of your mental space. It did not help that Abigail was insistent that you two were fated to meet again somehow, even though you had explicitly told her you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Jeanine was upset that you had lost a valuable customer, but the money that he could have possibly brought in was the last thing on your mind. The season was usually a high reward time for your family’s shop anyway, you were sure one lord would not be such a loss. 

On an afternoon that felt uncomfortably reminiscent of your first meeting, the bell above the front door rang as you were arranging a bouquet in the back. Abigail gasped from her spot in the doorway, and you did not even want to turn around and guess what caught her breath this time. “Oh my god,” Jeanine muttered, joining Abigail in the doorway as a pair of frantic feet made their way to your father at the counter. “Good afternoon, I should like to ask for a moment alone with Miss Y/N”. 

You nearly dropped the flowers in your hands and stood staring at the wall while the heads of both your sisters whipped around to look at you, mouths dropped and eyes wide. Your father did not really know how to comprehend the situation, to be honest none of you did, but one nod from him and Abigail was grabbing the flowers out of your hands while Jeanine pushed you forward through the entryway. Your feet were cement, standing in front of the man that definitely had not been occupying your mind for days on end, his arms stuffed with different boxes and trinkets. 

As if taking advantage of the silence, Benedict started, “I come bearing gifts. It occurred to me that I had no idea what your preferences were and with the safe answer of flowers obviously gone I got,” he dropped some of the goods on the counter, “these”. There were chocolates and pieces of jewellery and perfumes and accessories. You stared in awe at the collection before you, admiring the beauty of them all before you snapped back into reality. Benedict Bridgerton had come to spoil you in an attempt to win you over and you could not stand for it. 

“If you think gifts are going to magically change my mind then you are-” 

“Oh they are not for you. Well not exclusively anyway, I believed some of them to be for your family”. 

It took your sisters absolutely no time at all to rush over to the counter, rummaging through all the items present and claiming their picks before your mother and father came to join you on either side. With a quick scolding from your mother and a muttered thank you to Benedict, your sisters were off, resuming their position in the doorway. “I hope I am not interrupting any major, I just wished to spend the afternoon with your daughter,” Benedict glanced between your parents, silently asking for permission. 

“Well I do not see why not,” your mother replied, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Mother!” You hissed, surprised she would respond in the affirmative so quickly. 

“What? It is not like you get out of here much anyway!” Your father piped up, making you tilt your chin down in embarrassment and kick his shin under the counter. Benedict stifled a laugh, and you could sense his eyes on you as you kept your head down. “The pleasure is all yours,” your father looked at Benedict as he and your mother stepped back, laughing between themselves. 

“I figured a walk would do us both some good,” Benedict put his hands behind his back as you looked up at him, suddenly very aware of how much he towered over you. 

“What makes you think I have the time to just step out and walk around with you? In case you were not aware, I am currently working-” 

“Oh for god’s sake! Just go!” Jeanine yelled from the back, her and Abigail having given the two of you some privacy. You huffed, crossing your arms in front of you and mentally squaring up Benedict before rolling your eyes. “I suppose one afternoon wouldn’t hurt, but if you try anything I swear-” His hands shot up in defence, “You have my word, nothing nefarious will take place. I simply want to walk”. 

“A walk it is then,” you nodded, making your way around the counter and into the main section of the shop. 

“I promise, you will not regret this,” Benedict commented, clearly happy with himself as he opened the door for you to walk through. 

“Let’s not go making promises we’re not certain we can keep”. 

“I feel pretty certain about this one”. 

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction

[mysacredmuse]

reader: female anatomy, feminine descriptors (lady) + she/her pronouns

cw/tw: nsfw - mdni!, playing poker in stripping and one sexual exchange (he wants to creampie you, but bets in a kiss LOL), a bit of cocky! aventurine, aventurine and reader are "friends", reader is a loser 💔, dirty talk, table sex, rough sex, aventurine edges both of you, creampie

there is lots of dialogue, it's a mixture of bickering/playfulness & flirtiness I suppose

word count: 4.6k

dividers by @/enchanthings :)

note: tbh, in the part where the reader asks is that the only way he gets ladies naked, I had to hold myself back so hard not to write "not only ladies" LOL, but either way, I hope you enjoy it! :)

• Aventurine • Poker play •

Aventurine proposed a game of poker to you. At first, you were denying, aware that gambling with him would not be beneficial for you. 

"Come on, I won't go rough on you." he states in a playful tone, taking the cards out of the box. You scoff as you sit down, deciding to humor him for a round or two since there wasn't really anything better to do at an empty casino.

"Easily persuaded..that's what I like to see." he gives you a sly smile as he shuffles the cards. 

"Simply bored, so I will amuse you for a round." you say with a slight boredom in your tone, leaning back into your chair as you wait for him to deal. 

"My friend, no one ever stops at one round." he states in a serious tone as he deals both of you a hand of five cards. You check yours, evidently dissatisfied as you didn't even get a pair. He chuckles but remains silent for a few moments.

"How many do you wish to change?" he finally asks, slightly tilting his head.

"All five." you say seriously, earning another chuckle of his.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, so I will give you four." he says in a playful tone as you choose which cards to exchange. Your situation doesn't get much better, but at least you got a pair of kings.

"You won't be changing any?" you ask curiously as you reposition the cards in your hand to satisfy your taste.

"I told you I won't be rough.." he pauses for a second before he lays out his hand.

"..but it's also quite unnecessary when you have a straight flush." he lets out a soft laugh as he sees your semi-annoyed expression.

"Good job cheater." you roll your eyes as you show your cards, two kings standing weakly against his hand.

"No need for such hostility, we can just try again." he says in a satisfied tone as he takes the cards back, quickly shuffling them in an oddly professional way. 

"I said I will amuse you for one round only." you say in a firmer tone, crossing your arms as you watch him shuffle. Aventurine gives you a cat-like gaze as he puts the cards aside for a moment. He swiftly adds the chips, placing 20 thousand credits on the table afterwards. Your expression grows confused, even a bit shocked as he does it like it's nothing.

"Perhaps if we bet on this, your motivation will go up. What do you say?" he gives you a soft smile as he picks up and continues shuffling the cards.

"I say that you are insane. I don't have that kind of money to throw around!" you state in a louder tone, expression still quite puzzled. Aventurine just laughs at your reactions, clearly enjoying them.

"Ah, friend, let's not worry about such trivial matters here. All that actually matters is the game itself." he speaks calmly as he deals the cards again - five to both.

"It will matter tomorrow when I won't be able to get myself a bottle of water!" you express dramatically, but your words did make sense. 

"Why are you immediately assuming that you will lose?" he tilts his head, semi-amusement adoring his features.

"You know why!" you state loudly, feeling borderline offended that he would even ask as he could probably buy you just by selling the watch on his wrist.

He laughs. 

"I do know why, yes, but I told you already, didn't I? I won't go rough on you. Unless, of course, you want me to." he chuckles, sly gaze fixating on yours.

"We are still talking about poker, right?" you raise your eyebrow at him, slightly leaning forward as you check your cards.

"If that's what you want, then yes." he nods with a soft smile on his face before he checks his own cards.

"What else would I be talking about?" he continues after a moment of silence, making you slightly nervous. You ignore his question as the nervousness gets replaced by annoyance. Your cards suck. Again!

"Give me four cards again, please." you say in an almost defeated tone, sliding the four awful cards you had back to him. He wants to laugh, but he contains himself before he speaks up.

"You need to place a bet first." 

You look at him with a shocked expression.

"Rules of the casino, friend! The dealer never loses." he chuckles, giving you a small wink as he taps the table, urging you to place your money.

"How fitting…" you squint your eyes at him as your lips turn downwards. You take out 5 thousand credits from your bag, placing the tiny stash next to his finger.

"Is this enough?" 

"Sure is. For now, at least." he gives you a soft smile as he puts your money in the middle, the stake now being 25 thousand. He switches your four cards for new ones as he changes only one of his.

"Hey, hey! You said you need to put money first!" you point your finger at him and he gives you a puzzled expression in return for a moment. 

"Does a dealer get no privileges?" he points out and you slightly shrink in your seat, but your face remains pouty.

"Fine, I did say I won't go rough on you after all. I see your five-" he can't help but chuckle which makes your face grow offended.

"-..and raise you fifteen." he adds, slowly pushing the money to the small chunk in the middle. You scoff as he keeps laughing at your reactions. Your hand isn't strong, but it isn't that weak either. Your first full house of the night!

Aventurine just watches you with amusement for a couple of moments.

"So, do you want to raise me as you seem confident or do you prefer to show your cards now?" he tilts his head as he repositions cards in his own hand.

"Uh...I can raise you five more!" you say proudly as you reach for your bag.

"You need to raise me twenty thousand." he states calmly.

"Twenty?!" your eyes widen as your voice grows panicked, quickly returning money back in the bag.

"Nevermind." you quickly follow, simply showing him your cards.

He watches you with an entertained expression as he lays out his, only to show you nothing. He has one strong card.

Your eyes glow with pride as you quickly scoop the money closer to you.

"You could've won much more only if you had more confidence." he clicks his tongue as he takes the cards, shuffling them again.

"How was I supposed to know that?" you question in a semi-disinterested tone, just happy that you won something.

"You couldn't know, but that's the thrill of the game my friend! Loosen up and learn to risk sometimes." he says with a tone that seemed to be almost hiding something as he deals both of you cards again. He casually places 100 thousand credits, in two stacks of 50 thousand. Your eyes widen in disbelief as you swallow nervously.

"Now, you need to place at least 20 thousand." he tells you in a calm manner and you do as told.

Next few rounds go surprisingly well for you and you find yourself more thrilled to play. Aventurine was right. You actually find this quite fun - even more so when you win. However, as if the devil felt your pride and confidence, you begin to lose very soon. Aventurine keeps getting the strongest suits, leaving your side of the table dry of any money. You wish to wipe the cocky smile off of his face every time he wins, growing more irritated. After a while, Aventurine proposes a new deal.

"How about we raise the stakes?" he asks with amusement on his face, slightly leaning back into his chair.

You raise an eyebrow at him, already aware where this is going.

"Is that your only way of getting ladies naked?" you chuckle as you think about his proposition. 

"Not really. Being awfully good looking with an amazing taste in fashion often does the job." he states with a soft cockiness in his tone.

"Humbleness and humility as well, I am sure." you raise your eyebrows at him as your gaze falls on the empty spot where money used to be, right next to you.

"You would be correct, friend." he gives you a small nod, voice playful.

"But do not be so judgemental. After losing all of your money, is there really anything else you could offer me?"

You give him a hesitant gaze, remaining silent.

"Now of course, you could also back out, nothing is stopping you from doing so. Choice is yours." he says in a semi-sensual tone, sly gaze firmly fixated on yours.

"Isn't a bartender still here?" you ask as you play with your fingers a bit to calm down the nerves. It was a fun offer, but you also didn't celebrate the fact that you weren't alone.

"Mm, you really don't like risks, do you?" he asks without expecting you to answer him as he takes a look at his watch.

"He should be leaving fairly soon. I will play slowly, so you don't lose all your clothes before he leaves." he reassures you, oddly enough, so you just nod.

"Who says that I will be the one losing all the clothes?" you reply with a little smile, earning a chuckle from Aventurine.

"Oh? You feel more confident now, I like that." he says in a lower tone as he slowly shuffles the cards, just like he promised. You eagerly wait for him to deal, for unknown reason feeling excited about possibly getting it back to him.

"Although, before we start, may I ruin a little fun moment of mine I just had?"

"Go on."

"You are aware that it wasn't me who proposed this type of game...right?"

You blink a few times, recalling the conversation in your head.

"You were implying it. What else is there to play besides strip poker?" you tilt your head as you cross your arms over your chest.

"You do realize that I work for IPC? There are a lot of games to play and lots of debt to make, if one wishes to." 

"Whatever! Don't flatter yourself thinking that I wanted to see you naked."

"Not what I was aiming at." he chuckles as he finally deals the cards, his presence becoming heavier.

"No switching cards anymore. We both get only one shot each time, so - lay them out whenever you are ready." he says in a cunning tone, eyelids lowering as he waits for you.

You gulp, laying out your trashy hand with only one ace.

"And here I thought we would take it slow. Or are you that eager to lose?" he asks in a low tone, laying out his card one by one, keeping you in suspense.

However, he also only has one strong card - ace of hearts.

"Now what..?" you ask a bit confused as your gaze jumps between your cards and his.

"Nothing. We play until one wins. Should I speed it up this time or do you still want me to go slow?" he tilts his head as he takes the cards, keeping them in his hand.

"Slow." you nod as you notice that the bartender still hasn't left.

Aventurine just smiles as he shuffles the cards slowly, silence filling up the room with a layer of intriguing heaviness between the two of you.

He finally deals the cards and you check yours, finally getting a better hand - three of a kind. Nothing to be secure in, but it's also not the worst scenario.

"Whenever you are ready." he states as he leans back comfortably in his chair. 

Sudden interruption occurs, the bartender's raspy voice breaking the silence.

"I will be closing up soon, so-"

"Put it on my name. I will pay for renting the casino for the rest of the night. We are still playing." Aventurine speaks confidently, not batting an eye at him, gaze fixated on you.

"O-oh..okay. But it seems like you stripped her from everything already." the bartender replies in an empathetic tone as you give him a forced smile.

"Not quite yet. You can also leave early, I won't tell your boss." Aventurine finally looks at the man, winking at him. The bartender just utters a few words of gratitude as he quickly goes back to type Aventurine's bill and pack his things.

"Go on now. I took care of that as well." he smiles at you, tapping the table with his index finger.

You swallow again, slowly laying out your cards. Aventurine throws his almost immediately after you, winning with a full house. You click your tongue, hesitantly looking up at him as the bartender waves goodbye before he leaves. You wave back, slowly turning back to Aventurine who just gives you a knowing gaze.

"You can start with the shirt...or do you need my help with that as well?" he tilts his head, lustful eyes gazing up and down at you. You shake your head as you take a deep breath, slowly unbuttoning your shirt as you silently hope to win the next round. You place your shirt on the chair next to you, turning back to face Aventurine. He keeps eyeing you, eyebrows slightly rising upon seeing your bra.

"Fancy. Are you sure you didn't put it on just for me?" he lets out a mellow chuckle as he takes cards again, shuffling them a bit faster than before.

"You wish." you roll your eyes at him, slightly readjusting yourself in the chair.

"Perhaps I do." he confirms nonchalantly as he deals the cards, letting the meaning of his words flow between the two of you. You don't reply, but a dim wave of warmth forms beneath the skin of your cheeks.

You check your cards, still not satisfied as you get three of a kind once again. You want to attack him with a statement that he didn't shuffle the cards properly, but that would be a lie as you watched him do it.

He doesn't say anything this time, just shows you his cards - royal flush. You bite down on your bottom lip as you shamefully show your weaker hand. With a heavy gaze of his, you stand up, quickly losing your pants without uttering the word.

Another round plays out and you lose again. Time to pick between your bra and your panties.

"You can still back out if you want to." he says with an inviting tone, slowly leaning over the table.

"I don't want to."

There is something eager, impatient and borderline lustful as he gazes into you. For some, yet many reasons that makes your tummy curl on the inside, sending hot waves through your body. You swiftly unclip your bra, letting it slide down your shoulders as you expose yourself to him.

His gaze follows the bra that falls down, swiftly turning back up as he admires your tits. You put your bra next to your shirt, slightly squirming in your seat as a soft wave of shyness washes over you. 

"This is quite a show from you." he says in a mixed tone of teasing and softer neediness as he swiftly begins shuffling the cards again.

"Do you still wish to continue?" he challenges, but also makes sure at the same time. You nod, a soft sound of confirmation vibrating out of your throat. Your gaze falls on the window of his shirt that exposes a tiny portion of his chest, something inside of you desiring for him to take it off. Thoughts bubble up in your head as he deals the cards, giving you a much better hand this time. It's not the best, but it is a straight flush. So almost the best! You quickly lay them out, excited for the win at hand.

"Almost." Aventurine says bluntly as he quickly slides his cards over yours. To your misfortune, he had another royal flush. You let out a dissatisfied sigh, eyebrows twitching as you remain still for a moment. Aventurine keeps silent, waiting for your next choice. You slowly stand up, barely looking at his direction as you hook your thumbs between your hips and panties.

"Down." he orders you in a slightly quieter tone for the first time during this night. You finally gaze at his face, his eyes intense as he waits for you. You give him a soft smile as you slide your thumbs out of your panties, covering your boobs as you cross your arms over your chest, slightly hugging yourself.

"Do it yourself, Mr winner. This is the prize you were hoping for, no?" you reply in a semi-teasing tone, earning a moment of stillness from Aventurine. He slowly stands up, walking towards you just as slowly. You feel your lower tummy burn in desire as he finally reaches you, body close to yours. You slowly move back until you hit the edge of the table and Aventurine's body follows, inch away from yours. He slowly kneels down in front of you, head looking up as his gaze fixates on yours.

He sneaks his index fingers between your panties and hips, slowly rolling them down as his face remains close, awfully close, to your pussy, tip of his nose not even an inch away. He gently brushes his hands over your thighs, knees, calves and then finally ankles as his gaze still remains firmly on yours. You step out of your panties, kicking them to the side as you rest your palms on the table behind you, exposing your boobs to him again.

He slowly straightness himself, soft palms sliding over the sides of your body in the process, lastly resting on your hips.

"Is this what you were hoping for?" you ask through a mellow whisper, tilting your head at him.

"I could ask you the same question." he answers in a low tone, leaning his face closer to yours.

"Perhaps I did." you smile, gently hooking your index finger underneath the small belt that was holding his collar. Your lips ghost over his, legs slightly spreading. He slowly moves his hands down, sneaking them on the backside of your thighs and swiftly lifting you up on the table.

You spread your legs around his hips as your faces remain close to each other. You slowly move your hands down, undoing his zipper and the button of his pants, giving him a sly look. He doesn't stop you as you slowly slide them down his hips, enjoying the outline of his hard cock on his boxers. As you start sliding his boxers down, he speaks up.

"One last bet. If you kiss me first, I get to cum inside of you tonight."

"And if you lose?"

"Then I will become your fucktoy for as long as you want me to, anytime you want me to."

"One night versus forever..you're quite generous with your offer."

He slowly aligns his cock with your leaking entrance, sliding it up and down over your clit and inner lips, earning a shaky whimper of yours.

"It's a win for me either way."

"And if I never use you?"

"I still get to cum inside of you this one time."

"Ah, so that's your idea of never being on the losing end?" 

"Indeed." he confirms as he swiftly slides his cock inside of you, earning a sharp moan of yours and a shaky moan of his. Your hands fall behind you, keeping you up as Aventurine leans his face close to yours, parted lips ghosting over yours. He starts thrusting his hips slowly, letting the tip of his cock remain inside of you for a moment before he slowly slides his full length back inside.

You let out a chain of soft moans, legs squeezing his hips as your gazes fixate on one another, mellow filthy sounds filling up the small space between both of your lips. His hands fall on your hips, pulling you a bit closer to him as he narrows his hips, long and slow thrusts reaching deeper inside of you. You let out a sharper moan as his cock stimulates your sweet spots so agonizingly, shivers going throughout your body.

Aventurine lets out shaky moans, trying to contain them without much success. You let your tongue slide over his bottom lip as it didn't really count as kissing, teasing him further as his hot breath warms up your lips. He clicks his tongue, a choked and shaky moan following as he speaks.

"I did say I won't be rough with you, but that was only while we were playing." he states rather quickly and immediately speeds up his hips, thrusting into you at a much quicker pace, making your eyes roll back from suddenness. You let out a few guttural whines; his balls slapping the underside of your pussy in a sharp manner, making it feel like a pleasurable bruising.

He keeps the angle of his hips, reaching deepest spots of you as your head falls back, lips parting away from his. He leans into your exposed neck, licking a quick stripe over your pulse area, trembling moans spreading hot air over your skin. He messily starts kissing your neck making you clench around his length, but almost forcefully unclenching as his cock slides over your sensitive spots at a brutal pace.

His pelvic area slightly stimulates your clit each time it kisses yours, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. Aventurine reaches behind your ear, trailing to it in soft kisses and licks, leaving lustful and whorish sounds to ring in your ear right after.

You barely clench around him a few more times as his cock keeps sliding in and out of you at a vigorous pace. He moves his hand away from your hip and slides it on the back of your head, moving it close to him as he leans away from your ear, straightening it for you as he keeps slamming his hips into yours. You let out a messy moan, lips almost falling onto his as your mind grows hazy and needier. You quickly catch yourself this time, but Aventurine notices, cock twitching slightly inside of you.

"Fuck, you are so eager I might start thinking you were losing on purpose." he lets his words out in a mixture of steadiness and soft whimpers as his cock keeps slidinh in and out of your overly leaking cunt even faster now. Your eyes roll down as one of your hands grip his shoulder, unsteady vision focusing on the way his cock moves in and out of you.

Aventurine follows your motion, foreheads resting against one another as the two of you watch his cock getting out to the tip and then buried deep inside your cunt. Your pussy convulses at the sight in front of you as his cock twitches in response, desperate moans slipping past your lips.

Your grip on his shoulder becomes tight as his hand pulls your head back by your hair at its previous place, the other hand sliding between your bodies to reach your clit. As soon as you feel his fingers resting on your thigh while only his thumb circles over your clit, a pathetic whine escapes your throat. Aventurine leans his face closer, lips practically on yours, but he doesn't kiss you.

You claw at the table behind you as your hand falls off his shoulder to his chest, fingernails desperately digging into the tiny portion of skin accessible. He lets out shakier moans than before, swallowing half of them which results in a few whines as his pace doesn't slow down, cock relentlessly stimulating all of your sensitive spots while his thumb draws gentler circles over your clit.

Your body begins to twitch, waves of heat overwhelming you as your orgasm slowly builds up. You tighten your legs around his hips, narrowing your own his to meet his thrusts deeper inside. Your gaze is low and needy just like his, pretty eyes not leaving yours once.

"Please don't-" you choke out as a sharp moan interrupts you, legs shaking and losing their grip on his hips. You press your lips into his, but do not kiss him. He speeds up the pace of his thumb on your clit, squeezing louder moans out of you as your back slightly arch. His grip on your hair tightens as his balls keep bruising the underside of your leaking cunt.

"Kiss me if you want to cum." he whispers breathlessly, his own release edging closer as he feels your warm pussy cream and tighten around him.

"Nuh-uh.." you barely shake your head, tensing your lower tummy in order to reach orgasm faster. Aventurine feels the motion of your muscles as it makes your cunt tighten around him even more, giving you one last sharp and heavy thrusts, forcing a sharp whine out of your throat before he slows his hips down a lot. You groan in displeasure, eagerly trying to move your own hips in order to gain more friction. Your breaths mix up together and you brush your lips over his, fingernails digging harder into his chest.

He speeds up the movement of his thumb as his hips move at agonizingly slow pace, quickly building up your orgasm once more. His lips wrap around your bottom one, still not fully kissing you as a soft moan escapes his throat. His cock twitches inside of your cunt as a sharp moan escapes your lungs, first waves of orgasm washing over you.

He quickly moves his thumb away from your clit, all the build up in your lower tummy subsiding as he edges the both of you. He barely thrusts his cock out of you, making your mind hazy as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You let your lips wrap around his upper lip, tongue finally hesitantly sliding over it.

"Just let me cum, please." you whimper out, mindlessly greedy for release, pride disappearing as you let yourself lose the bet once more.

On cue, Aventurine immediately speeds up the pace of his hips, vigorously pounding into you as his thumb returns to draw slow circles over your clit. He chuckles into the kiss as you press your lips harder into his, his grip on your hair tightening. Your tongues swiftly find each other, eagerly sliding over one another, sending trembles down your body as you keep moaning into the kiss.

Overwhelming heat washes over you, heavily convulsing in your lower tummy as your orgasm quickly builds up again, breaking through in small waves at first. Aventurine lets out a sharp moan into your mouth as his cock twitches more, pressing deeper into your g-spot and sending you over the edge.

His release immediately follows, a thick whip of cum sending tingles up your spine as it melts inside of your needy cunt at the peak of your release. Your kiss becomes heavy and lustful, breathless as it's filled with whorish moans, both of you ride out your orgasms. Aventurine doesn't slow down for quite some time, hips and his thumb both working at a fast pace to prolong your orgasm and this very moment for as long as possible. 

Next morning, a sudden sound of two messages makes your phone light up, a small buzz startling you.

2 messages.

Click.

Aventurine transferred 2 million credits to your account. Click to open.

Aventurine [08:08 am]: My other offer still remains on the table. Do with that information what you wish.

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