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#and hes walking towards him but then he notices the sheet of water pouring between them

casualhedonists · 3 months

Text

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

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

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

chapter: 6/6

SERIES MASTERLIST

words: .......13.5k

a/n: WHEW what a wait. thank you, as always, for your patience this past month or so! as i’ve mentioned i’ve been busy as hell, but it is with many internal screams that i can say! welcome to the final chapter of this series!! what a ride we've all had these last few months! buckle up for like. essay length extensive smut and also plot. in varying order. as always, feedback makes my world spin round at rocket speed, and just. thank you guys for all the love ever since i posted chapter one last november (november me with a brand new sideblog had no clue this would become a Thing i finished let alone a Thing people liked!! that's all on you lovely humans. ily)

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

Heaven was his head between your thighs.

His hands on you, everywhere. Hot mouth pressed to your skin, your neck, your thighs, your cunt. He was slow. Thorough. Pulling cries out of your mouth that got louder and louder until your back arched on the bed and you lay slumped and panting, twisted in his sheets. Taken apart and stitched right back together.

It hadn’t started like this. Not even close.

You woke to a soft light on your face, the curtains parted slightly. Your throat felt sore, and you were tired. Body heavy, slumped across a bed. His. It came back to you in fragments. The party. The photograph. His hand in your hair. His eyes after, apologetic and pleading. Falling asleep right here, next to him, but there was nobody beside you anymore. Your eyes adjusted to the room; you’d never seen it at this time of day, with sunbeams lighting up the walls. You could hear a soft tapping sound, like rain on the windowsill, but it was a bright and sunny spring day out.

Typing. That’s what it was.

Steady, satisfying clicks as the typewriter punched ink onto paper. You turned your head towards the desk across the room.

Coriolanus was sat there, focused, a breakfast tray pushed to one side. He didn’t notice you for a while, and you rolled over to take him in, a slight squint in his eye as he concentrated. You pulled your tired body up and leaned against the pillows, and he turned.

“Morning.” He said in surprise.

“Hi.”

This was strange. Like a warped sense of a morning after.

“Coffee?” He offered. “It’s still hot, I think.”

“Please.”

As he stood to pour from the French press, you took a look around you, eyes landing on the nightstand. A glass of water stood tall next to the silver chain he’d given you last night.

So innocent. If someone took a peek through a crack in the wall, they’d think you were a perfectly normal couple. Domestic bliss.

Not so much, you thought, as he walked over and handed you a cup.

He didn’t linger, but sat down at the foot of the bed, and that only made things stranger. He’d never been one to shy away from physical proximity, but here you both were, sipping just-hot coffee as he eyed you carefully. Like you were an animal in an enclosure, and he hadn’t quite figured out which approach to take with you yet.

“Are you working on something?” You nodded toward the cluttered desk.

“Just the usual. Work.”

“Oh? Didn’t know you worked in here.”

“I don’t, usually. Never have, in fact.” He sounded sheepish. This was entirely new. “But I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

Oh.

You said just that.

“Oh. Um, thank you.”

“I can go if you’d like. Leave you to rest.”

“No, that’s okay. Stay.”

His eyes softened a little, shoulders sinking down.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

You considered. You hadn’t really thought much about it.

“Tired, I think. This is helping. Thank you.” You sipped at the cup of coffee, careful not to spill it on his sheets. An oddly comfortable silence hung in the air.

“I called Cordelia. She’s coming over this afternoon, we can figure it all out. Print a story you’re happy with.”

“Wait, what? We don’t have an appointment for three more weeks.”

He glanced awkwardly at the floor, and cleared his throat.

“I thought you’d want to make it as quick as possible. It will be, and it won’t shine badly on you. I’ll get Lucille to pack your things, and if you don’t want to go back to your parents, I’d be happy to put you up somewhere in the city for as long as you’d like. It’s the least I could do after everything that I-”

“Coriolanus, stop.” You shook your head, bewildered.

“Can I ask you a serious question?”

He paused.

“Of course.”

“How the hell are you meant to know what I want if you’ve never asked me?”

He frowned, eyes darting from the floor, to you, to the floor again.

“I… Well, I assumed that-”

“Don’t assume.” You interrupted. “God, when will you stop assuming you know what’s best for me? It’d be nice to feel like I have a say in this. Don’t you see that if we do this, we’ll just end up right back where we started? I don’t want that, do you?”

“Doll, I think this would be for the best.”

“Why, am I getting too difficult for you now? You got someone new lined up ready to take my place? Someone less complicated? More complacent?” You snapped.

“Of course not, it’s not that.”

“Then why? Why do you want me gone? Because it’s pretty damn clear that you do from where I’m sat.”

He sighed, turning to face you, but looking at your lap. You gripped the cup with a vice, like you were trying to snap off the handle. You placed it on the nightstand.

“I’ve just been wondering if this has become about something… else, to you. and I wanted to say that if that’s the case, this can’t continue. Because… well, I’ve grown fond of you, and it isn’t fair to keep you hoping.”

Your confusion softened your sharp edges.

“Hoping for what?”

For whatever reason, he didn’t meet your eye as he spoke.

“Hoping that… I can give you something I don’t think I’m capable of. Or at least, not anymore. It’s not fair on you. I can’t give you what you need.”

“And what exactly is it that I need?”

He shifted, looking awkwardly to the floor. At first, your frown only deepened, then it hit you. A knowing smile crept onto your face.

“Oh my god… you think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

His frown only widened your grin. you were pretty sure you must’ve looked insane. Despite yourself, you let out a laugh, and his frown only deepened.

“When you… you’ve been upset lately. The other week at the luncheon, and then last night, I thought it was-”

“That I was, what, in love with you?”

A cocky, shit eating grin now took over your face.

He started a sentence, but stopped himself. You could see it on his face; he was completely thrown.

“So you’re not.” He checked.

“Oh, don’t look so disappointed, Snow. ‘Course not. That’s never what this was about, I mean, we have rules for a reason. Sure, we’ve been breaking them like it’s our day job, but not the golden one. Never the most important.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked a little sheepish.

“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” you repeated, “I’m not in love with you.”

He cleared his throat awkwardly. His shoulders sank down, like he was relieved.

“I see. That’s good, that’s… for the best.”

“So will you cancel Cordelia?”

“Okay. If that’s what you want., it’s done.”

You nodded.

“See, this is better. It’s a lot easier when you ask me things. And I’ll be the first to admit I haven’t exactly been the most talkative either.”

“It’s not exactly our strong suit.” He agreed.

“Yeah. You know, while we’re on the topic, there’s something else you can do for me.”

“Anything.”

“You can run me a bath. A hot one. With bubbles.” You added.

It was slight, but you saw it. He perked up.

“Okay, doll.”

The bath was hot, and it smelt like the softer parts of him, like fresh linen and the spice of his cologne. Again, he didn’t linger, just ran the bath, saw you into the room and let you be. It was frustrating – while it was nice to soak in the hot water and feel your muscles relax, you wished he would just talk to you, instead of acting like you were something to avoid, something to walk on eggshells around. This change in his demeanour wasn’t a completely unwelcome one – you didn’t mind feeling as though you had the upper hand, and held all the cards for once – but you didn’t like being treated like you were broken, either.

You sank your head underneath the bubbles and stayed down there for a few seconds, the rush of water clouding your eardrums. It was a peaceful kind of noise, and when you came back up for air, you found yourself breathing a little easier.

You pondered. Processed, considering the steps to take next, rolling your neck out and stretching your feet to the edge of the tub. Anytime you thought you’d reached any sort of plateau with Coriolanus, something new would pop up out of seemingly nowhere. You hadn’t minded the danger at first, it drew you in and kept you hungry for more, but you’d grown tired, weary from the whiplash knotting your neck.

When the water cooled, you looked around, but couldn’t see a towel. You cleared your throat.

“Snow?” You called out.

Soft footsteps. Then, his voice from behind the door.

“Everything okay?”

“I just need a towel. I can’t see one near me.”

“They’re in the linen closet in the corner.”

You eyed the floor between the tub and the closet.

“I’d have to get out and drip bathwater all across the floor. Can you just come in here and hand me one?”

Silence.

“Please?” You added.

More silence. Then he quietly cleared his throat.

“Yeah. Okay, fine. I’m coming in, I won’t look.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

The door cracked open and he made a short beeline to the closet, unfolding a towel and holding it out. When he walked to the side of the tub, he looked off to the side like the colour of the walls was suddenly the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

You pulled yourself out of the water, shivering as the cold air hit you. Then you backed into the towel and took it from him, wrapping it around yourself, sinking into the soft cotton. He stood behind you, paused, seemingly suspended in place and unable to move. You heard him draw in a breath, inches from the back of your neck.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. His breath caught on the droplets of water gathered on your skin, and it warmed you and gave you a chill at the same time.

“I know you are.”

Then in a flash, you spun around, lips on his, hungry. He kissed you back like he had something to prove, and hell, maybe he did. His hands tangled in your wet hair and yours made for his shirt. The towel slipped to the floor and fell in a pile at your feet. One button came open, you broke the second, which flew into the air and landed on the floor with a tap. He pulled you in closer, hands all over you, and you worked frantically at the third, not caring if it broke, not caring about anything.

��Doll.”

You looked up at him, at his blown-out eyes.

“Want you to fuck me.” You breathed.

“I can’t.”

You jolted to a stop, catching your breath. He took a step back.

“What?”

He pulled in slow breaths, like he was trying to cool himself off. His eyes pressed shut.

“Not like this. Not until I know you trust me again. I don’t… I can’t hurt you again. I won’t do that. I need you to forgive me first. Completely.”

You exhaled slowly, then cleared your throat, lowering to the ground to pick the damp towel off the tiles. When you came back up, half-covered, he was staring at a spot on the wall again, breath laboured.

You tied the towel around you, and looked right at him as he looked away, eyes averted.

“You sure about that, Snow?” you drawled. “You sure as hell don’t look it.”

He swallowed thickly.

“I’ll let you get dressed. I’ll just be in the bedroom.”

You brought your hand to your lips, brushing over where he’d just kissed them once he’d turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. You eyed your pile of clothes with disdain.

He was back at his desk when you walked out, wrapped in a shirt he’d offered you, hair towel in hand. He didn’t look as focused on his work this time.

“I cancelled Cordelia. So don’t worry about that.”

“Thank you.” You made for the bed, and climbed back onto it. “Rather just talk to you anyway.”

His jaw tensed. It seemed he was still doing everything in his power not to look at you.

“You know, there’s this thing called eye contact. Remember that thing Cordelia waffles on about? It’s important when you’re having a conversation with somebody. I’m a big fan, myself.”

His eyes shot daggers at you. But at least he was looking.

“And what did you want to talk about, exactly?”

You shrugged, and he glanced back at the desk, and pretended to study one of the papers there.

“I don’t know. All of this, I guess.”

Much to your annoyance, he didn’t answer. Your eyes swept the room again, and you brought the towel to your hair. The sun was high enough now to light up the silver chain on the nightstand, and you took it in your palm, turning it over.

“Did you mean it when you said I could have this?” You wondered aloud.

He looked at you again.

“Wasn’t sure if you remembered that.”

“Well, I do.”

“Then I meant it.” His words shouldn’t have made you smile, but they did.

“Will you put this on me?” You asked.

“Uh. Sure.”

The chair creaked as he pushed it back from underneath him, and he walked over to you cautiously, perching on the bed, taking the dog tag, then ever so gently brushing your hair to one side.

“Can I just ask-”

“Anything.” He said quickly.

The cool metal slid onto your chest as he secured the chain, falling low.

“When you were out there, did you…” you swallowed.

Say it.

“…hurt people?” You praised your voice for not shaking. The silence in the room was deafening. But he finally answered.

“I did what was necessary.”

“It must’ve been awful.”

“Yeah.” He said quietly. “It was.”

“Do you think about it much?”

“More than I care to admit. But it was a long time ago.”

You turned to face him.

“Doesn’t make it less real. I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how hard it must’ve been.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. What matters is that I’m here now.”

You smiled.

“You didn’t get too bad of a deal of it either, President Snow.”

He put your hair back into place, fingertips trailing your shoulder.

“I certainly didn’t.”

You thumbed the cold steel, an odd feeling of satisfaction washing over you.

“Was it worth it?” Your voice sounded quiet, even to you. You were fully aware of the weight of the question, heavier still from the complete understanding that you barely knew what you were asking.

“Yes.”

It should’ve scared you, the surety in his voice. But it didn’t.

Warm breath caressed your shoulder blade, and it really shouldn’t comfort you, but it did. You cleared your throat.

“Thank you. For putting it on. I always get these things tangled.”

“My pleasure. I meant what I said though, sweetheart. No wearing it where anyone’ll see, okay? I need you to promise me.”

You turned your head, shifted so you faced him. You suddenly realised just how close your faces were, and your voice dropped low.

“I promise. It’s nothing new. We’re no strangers to secrets, you and I.”

Your noses were almost touching, and he was looking down at your lips. You drew in a breath, and inched in impossibly closer. You felt his breath on your lips, hot and shallow. Your nose bumped his.

And then his lips were on yours again. But just as quickly, he pulled away.

“Don’t.” You pleaded.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t. Not until I’ve fixed this. Please, just… tell me what you need me to do. I’ll do whatever you want.”

You sighed, pulling away.

“This is what I want, Snow. But…”

“Yeah?”

“I just… never knew it would get so complicated. I think for now, maybe I need a little time.”

“Okay. We can do that.”

“I might go home over this weekend. Spend some time with my parents. No tricks, okay? No messengers, no word from you, the entire time. I’ll come back here on Monday morning, and I’ll tell you what I’ve decided then.”

He nodded.

“That’s fine.” He cleared his throat again. “So you’ll leave tomorrow morning?”

“If that’s okay.”

He seemed as satisfied as one would expect with that solution.

“Yes. Of course, anything you want.”

“Thank you, Coriolanus.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked a little disappointed by the formality.

“And Snow?”

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Before I go, will you lie next to me for a little while?"

It was oddly intimate, the way the day stretched on. He lay next to you for a while, and you sank into the sheets and eventually dozed off. When you woke, he was still there, quietly tapping at the typewriter and poring over paperwork. You spent the rest of the day in his room, in bed mostly, with food being brought up to you which you shared in mutual silence or casual conversation. Lucille packed your bags, and you spent the night in his bed, a little distance between you. But when you woke up, you had to slowly pull away your woven limbs.

Leaving was a quiet affair. Snow gave you a chaste kiss goodbye, and Henry snuck you and your bags through the back exit and kept to backroads, so nobody would know who you were or where you were going. Your parents didn’t know why you were visiting either; they didn’t need to. As far as anyone was concerned, you were taking a short weekend trip to check in with your family.

The two days passed quickly. You spent the time reflecting, debating what your next move would be, and listening to your parents argue. You found yourself glancing at the clock by Saturday afternoon, and by Sunday night you were practically crawling out your skin ready to leave. You considered what he’d offered you; an apartment on your own, somewhere in the city. But the thing is, you’d grown used to his moods, to just having him around, if only to dig your fingers into and pry open, searching for secrets. Life would feel awfully dull without it. You’d never met someone who was a match for you, who challenged you. You wondered if he felt the same.

Monday morning rolled around and you let out a heavy sigh of relief as you climbed into the car. Henry glanced back at you, but didn’t comment.

The second the manor came into sight, your head clouded with doubt. Would he want you to stick around? You’d spent the last couple of days toying with all outcomes like some omniscient god, but until now you hadn’t considered the fact that Snow might’ve done some thinking through of his own.

But as you pulled up at the side door, there he was. Standing perfectly poised, waiting for you, and all your worries washed away as he looked at you. Henry opened the door, and Coriolanus offered his hand as you stepped out the car. He looked at you with the same intensity as he had that very first night in his room, when you’d finally dropped the charade, and you returned the stare. Even just feeling his hand on yours set your skin on fire.

When you finally got inside and it was just the two of you, he stopped you.

He looked regal before, proud and superior. Now, you could tell it was a façade, laced with a nervous discomfort.

“Well?” He prompted.

You looked at him. Took in the way his eyes couldn’t stay in one place for too long, the tightness in his jaw that only appeared when he was under pressure, and the slight urgency seeping through his otherwise controlled question, and realised then that you hadn’t been the only one going a little insane these past few days.

And now, you had the upper hand again.

“Upstairs,” you answered. “Your room.”

When the door closed behind you and he paced towards the desk, you almost smiled at the parallel. It felt like an age ago that you’d strutted in here, dressed in his suit jacket with something to prove. You knew the cards you were about to play now like you had then, but your thoughts still raced.

Snow cleared his throat.

“So? Have you made up your mind?”

You waited for him to turn and face you.

“I have.”

“And?” So quick to reply. You’d never heard him so on edge.

You wet your lips, taking a step towards him. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying stretching this out a little, watching him squirm.

“I’ve decided that… I’m staying.” You said finally.

He let out an audible breath, almost like he didn’t care about you hearing his reaction anymore. Like he’d been strung out the entire weekend, just like you. Like he’d imagined this conversation in a million different ways. He stepped towards you. This was an old dance; one you knew well. You closed the gap between you, and his hand grazed your jaw.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He said. You held his gaze, he brushed your lip with the pad of his thumb.

“Can I…” His voice dropped.

“Not just yet.”

You relished the little frown that knitted his brows.

“I know you, Snow.” You continued. “You’re good at what you do. You’re better at this than anyone out there. You’re dedicated, and I think that… something tells me you’re going to be President for an awfully long time. I want to be by your side when that happens. I’m not going away when this arrangement suits me too. But I have terms.”

He watched you as if he was mesmerised, and you wondered if he even noticed the way you slowly walked him towards the bed. You hid your smile as the spell broke, and the back of his legs bumped the ottoman. He gazed down at your lips, just a little thrown off kilter.

“Tell me.”

You got closer, lifting your hands to the lapels of his shirt and giving them a tug, turning him so you were stood against the ottoman and he was facing you. He moved so easily, as if this was a dance, one you’d practiced a hundred times over.

“Let’s start with this. You said you’d do anything for my forgiveness, right?”

“I meant it.”

“Good.” You nodded, “Because there is something you can do for me.” Your hand traced his jaw, and he leaned into it.

“Name it.” He whispered, lips pressing against your palm. “It’s yours.”

You leaned towards him, faces close, noses touching, foreheads pressed together. You could feel the almost on your lips, could feel his breath. You relished in the feeling, that electric tension between the two of you. You held onto it, inhaled it like smoke, before cutting it loose.

“Kneel.” You breathed.

Feeling his brows twitch gave you a rush, and when you pulled back, he looked like art. You slowly moved down, sitting on the ottoman, holding his gaze. Then slowly, steadily, like he was walking a gossamer-thin tightrope, he shifted, nudging your legs open to stand between them, and lowered himself down to the floor, knees gently knocking against the hardwood one at a time. You give him a slow nod.

“Like that. Good. Stay there.”

Your legs parted a little further, and his eyes lined up with the way your dress lifted, bunching at your hips, exposing black lace with white trim, barely covering the space he seemed to lean towards.

He wet his lips, glancing up at you. Eyes bright but laden with want, so heavy he thought he might drown in it.

“Can I…” He whispered, and you felt it more than heard it, his hot breath tickling your thighs.

You smiled a little, and shook your head.

“Fuck. Please, doll.”

“Did I ask you to beg?”

“No. But… what can I do?”

You pulled your lip between your teeth as you considered.

“You can take these off. Slowly.”

You sighed when his palms brushed your hips, pushing your dress up then hooking soft fingers into the band of your underwear, slowly pulling them over your hips and down your thighs. He was gentle, pulling back but staying oh so close to you as he pulled the lace past your ankles, tossed it to the side, and moved in again expectantly.

“And now?”

You pushed your legs apart again, just enough. Drew in a breath.

“I want you to watch.”

A sound slipped from his mouth, and you weren’t sure if it was just a shaky breath or a quiet curse. His eyes darted between your face and the heat between your thighs. If you couldn’t already feel the mess you’d made, the way his lips parted and his eyes went heavy-lidded would give it away in an instant.

His gaze followed your hand, unwavering as you slowly brought it between your legs, and lazily trailed your fingers towards where you were aching to be touched. Then with a gasp, you brushed your finger against your clit and starting drawing slow circles, slipping further down to push against your opening, slipping through the mess you’d made just from seeing him knelt on the hardwood.

You kept your head tilted back and your eyes closed, touching yourself with Snow knelt between your legs incredibly brazen, even for you. He was mere inches away, laboured breath dusting the skin of your inner thighs.

But as you melted into the feeling, sinking deeper than you could imagine in just a few short seconds, you opened them again. And there he was, darkened eyes fixed on where your fingers ran messy circles on your cunt, and you let out a soft whine. It was enough to make him redirect his stare to your face, and you couldn’t help but stare back, pressing harder against your clit with a broken sigh. You planted your feet on the floor as you shifted your hips a little, getting slightly closer, making it easier for you to carefully swirl a finger around your entrance, then gently push inside.

“Fuck.” He breathed, rocking forward slightly, to which you shook your head, knee pressing against his shoulder, pushing him back. His pleading eyes drove you on, pushed you to fuck yourself faster, obscene wet noises filling the quiet space.

He looked wrecked; lips parted, eyes begging, glancing up at you. And it only made you all the more shameless, bucking your hips and crying out, gasps slipping from your mouth that you couldn’t deny were getting played up a little for effect. He stared on, looking so fucking small between your legs, so hard you could only imagine it hurt.

You weren’t sure if he noticed he was breathing in tandem with you, but as your breaths picked up, got a little strained, so did his. His eyes slitted, heavy with lust as he stared on.

You got a little cocky; let it go to your head. Nothing would ever beat the rush of adrenaline you felt from seeing the most powerful man you’d ever known giving into you, letting you set the rules. It was intoxicating.

“You okay down there, sweetheart?”

He sighed, slow and heavy.

“I…” He trailed off, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Is there something you need?” Your voice was breathier than you would like, control slipping from your fingertips, but it was still there and the way he looked up at you. His mouth opened again, jaw agape, on his knees like it was a silent prayer. You fucked yourself faster, mean, dripping down your fingers. He finally spoke.

“Please.” He whispered.

“What did you say?”

“I said -” he swallowed “- I said please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me touch you. Put my mouth on you, I won’t even use my hands. Just let me… baby. Come on.” His voice was raspy and ruined.

“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson yet? I’m not so sure.”

His breath was shallow, eyes wide and blown out.

“I’ll prove it to you. Just let me touch you, and I’ll do anything you want. Please, doll.”

You hummed, pretending to weigh it up in your head.

“Well, since you’re asking so nicely. Go ahead. But keep your hands to yourself.”

“Thank you. Fuck. Thank you, baby.”

He listened, inching in cautiously, like he was expecting you to change your mind, then he pressed his mouth to you and there it was.

Heaven.

“Oh fuck.” Your breath hitched in your throat.

You hummed as he dragged his tongue over your folds, setting your nerves alight, instinctively rocking into the pressure you’d been thinking about since you got him on the floor. His hands, you noted, sat dutifully on his thighs, gripping onto them like it took a physical reminder for him not to reach out and grab your hips, push his fingers into your soft skin and own you.

As welcome as that sounded to your foggy mind, this was about proving a point. You were the one calling the shots here. So you rocked gently against his face as he kissed your clit, lapping at the heat between your legs, only pulling away at intervals to catch his breath, the daylight making the mess on his chin glisten, only to dive back in again, movements slightly limited by the lack of his hands, which you could see was bothering him.

You couldn’t help but tease him a little between gasps.

“I have to say I missed this. Seeing you underneath me.”

He looked up at you. But there was little defiance in his eyes, just want. Want so depraved that it sent a flush through you, making you feel a little unmoored.

“If I didn’t know better, Coryo, I’d say you were enjoying this.”

Face buried between your thighs, a broken whine sent a little shock through your core. You moaned, getting a little strung-out, a little breathy.

“Is that a yes?”

You felt him nod.

“Good. Glad to see you’re putting up less of a fight this time. It wasn’t so hard, now, was it? Giving in?”

This time, his eyes contained a little more fire. He pushed his tongue firmer against your clit, cutting off your question with a gasp. A few moments passed, and you heard him hum.

“Is there something you want to say, baby? Go ahead.”

He pulled back, catching his breath again.

“Still don’t want me to use my hands?”

You shook your head.

“Then can you… if it’ll feel better.” He glanced at your hand, resting lazily on your thigh.

“What?” You knew what he was getting at, but he shot you back a look as if to say, don’t make me say it.

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m not.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Then say it.”

“Put your hand in my hair. You can… be rough, if you want to. I don’t mind.”

Your smile turned into a sly grin.

“You want me to pull your hair? You sure?”

“I’m sure. I don’t… I liked it, last time.” He confessed quietly.

“Liked what?” You pushed.

He took a steady breath, looking down at the velvet seat you were perched on. He gritted out the words steadily, pointedly.

“When you sat on my face. I liked it.”

You pressed your lips together to hide your smile.

“I know you did.”

He paused, looking down at the floor. Then he looked back up. You brought your hand to his hair, fingers running through the soft strands. He started peppering kisses along the insides of your thighs, something he’d been too desperate to consider when you’d first given him permission to taste you. Now, they sparked the fire even more, and as much as you liked the careful attention, you guided his head to where you needed it. Keeping his words in mind, you gave a slightly rough tug on his hair, and he responded with a pained hum that edged you closer.

At one point, you saw his hand shift to try towards his pants, but you yanked his hair in response.

“No touching yourself yet. Or I’ll only let you watch, okay?”

You built up a rhythm, growing careless with the tugs on his hair so that you felt pressure in all the right places. Your fingers pulled harder as you got close, and you could hear his shallow breath as you took what you wanted from him.

“Fuck. Coryo, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that. You wanna make me cum?”

He nodded as best as he could with your hand gripping tight in his hair, and the motion only brought you closer, legs growing weak and tired, hooking over his shoulders now that you’d let him closer. You felt the ache build, almost painful with how long it had been, and you felt yourself snap, spinning out of control as your hand tensed, then fell from his hair. Then his hands were on you, gently this time, smoothing over your bucking hips with a level of control that you melted into as the feeling washed over you. He didn’t stop, pressing his tongue against you harder as you fell apart, shaking like a leaf as he worked your cunt until your cries bordered on screams.

“Fuck. Oh my god, that’s it, I’m…” You broke off into a shout, something so outlandish it sounded foreign to your own ringing ears, but you were too far gone to care. You could vaguely feel yourself grabbing at him as he pulled away, at his hair, his hands, anything, as you slumped back onto the bed. Slowly, he propped himself up, placing a knee between your legs and leaning over you. And his eyes, heavy and wanting, had you aching all over again.

He held back a little, clearly still in the space you’d pushed him into.

“Can I…” He whispered, those desperate eyes fixed on your parted lips as you caught your breath.

“Yeah.” You gasped, and he lowered his head towards you.

This time, he kissed you softer. Still hungry, still wanting, but slow, methodical, like he wanted to relish it. Almost like he wasn’t trying to own you, but in that moment, you could almost go so far as to believe the contrary. And your head swam with pride, feeling his lips on yours as he gently pressed you into the soft mattress.

But you didn’t sit in the feeling for too long.

“Was that okay?” He gasped.

“Yeah. More than okay. But you used your hands at the end there, baby. You know what that means?”

His eyes narrowed as his head cleared a little.

“Lie on your back for me.”

He obliged, dropping onto the mattress and shuffling up to lean against the pillows.

“I missed you, you know.” You murmured as you followed suit, hovering over him to get another kiss.

“I missed you too, sweetheart. Thought I was gonna go out of my fucking mind with how much.”

“Yeah?” You smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?”

“I hoped not. Glad I was right.”

You smiled again, and shifted closer towards him.

“I could always show you how much I missed you, if you wanted.” Your eyes darted down to the front of his pants, the outline of his hard cock pressing against the material. He went a little quiet again, nodding a little, and you grinned. Climbed onto your knees so you were just a little above him, then swung a leg over one of his to sit carefully on his thigh. You paused for a beat.

“I won’t touch you until you tell me to, baby.”

He sucked in a breath.

“You can touch me.”

You tutted.

“What do we say?”

“Please.” He added quickly.

Without a word, you leaned in, brushing a hand over his cock, starting gentle, but quickly adding pressure. You could tell he was holding back, jaw clenched and eyes fluttering as he tried to control his breath.

“Not getting shy on me again, are you?”

He didn’t answer, just met your eye and you took it as a challenge. Unbuttoned his slacks and with a glance and a nod, slid them down his legs. You licked your palm slow, making sure he was watching closely.

“Fuck.” He breathed.

“Well, if you’re not gonna talk to me properly, I’m just gonna have to work harder then, aren’t I?” You drawled as you slipped your hand underneath his boxers. There was a soft thump as his head dropped back onto the headboard and he cursed as your fingers grabbed the base of his cock.

“Like that?” Your mouth pulled into a sly smile.

He hummed, breaking off into a sigh, lips parted and eyes towards the ceiling as you fisted his cock. I’ll take that as a yes.

You swirled your thumb around the head of his cock, gathering messy precum that had gathered at the tip from your teasing, and it hit you then that most of your interactions until now had been psychological, toying with words, with ideas and almosts. You knew by now what made him tick, which words you could use to push him to the edge, but you’d barely had the chance to touch each other. But you were a fast learner, and you knew what you wanted from this.

You wanted to make him fall apart.

So you picked up the pace, and it must’ve ached with how fast you were fucking his cock with your fist, but his determination not to lose his cool made it all the more exciting. It got wet, and that was one thing his composure couldn’t hide. It egged you on, shifting your own hips on his tensing thigh as your sore cunt pressed against the muscle.

“You can hold back all you like, but I can tell you’re fucking close.”

His eyes fell shut in a lust-clouded haze, breath picking up. His cock twitched in your hand and you grinned. You were tempted to take it down your throat, really see how he held up then, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet, and you were on a high learning just how to make his body respond to your touch, how to make him weak. So you worked your wrist and felt his legs jolt a little, and you knew it was a matter of seconds.

“If you want to cum, you’ll have to ask nicely. I don’t know how generous I’m feeling just yet. Convince me.”

“Jesus.” He gasped.

“No, just me. Go on, baby. Beg me. You wanted to earlier, right? Now’s your chance.”

An honest-to-god whine left his mouth, voice cracked and completely fucking ruined. You slowed your motions.

“No, baby, don’t stop. I’m so fucking close, please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum. I fucking need it, I did everything you said, I got on my knees, I fucking… fuck, I did what you told me, didn’t I? Everything you asked? And I didn’t touch myself, I haven’t… fuck. All weekend, I haven’t-”

You pressed your lips together.

“Poor thing. You’ve gone this whole weekend without cumming?”

“I was a little fucking preoccupied.” He gritted out.

“Over little old me? You shouldn’t have.”

“Please,” he repeated, “I need to cum. I did what you wanted, doll, I- shit-”

Satisfied, you picked the pace up again, obscene wet sounds filling the room as his hips rocked a little into your hand as he got close again. Too far gone now to hold back, his face contorted in pleasure, eyes fixed on you. Then, in a seemingly small motion as you leaned into him a little, the dog tag that had been sitting tucked under your dress - and had stayed hidden against your skin all weekend - slipped out, the pendant swinging into the air beneath you, and as Coriolanus caught sight of it, you felt his hips tense, then his cock was twitching and spilling into your hand.

“Shit, that’s so… oh my fucking god, doll.”

You pulled your hand from his boxers and brought it to your mouth, cleaning it off a little.

“You really did need that, huh?” You smirked, and he sighed.

“Yeah. I really fucking did.”

You nodded at his boxers.

“Can I take these off now?”

He pressed his head into the headboard again and nodded, so you carefully pulled them down his legs. Panting and overheated, he unbuttoned his shirt as you threw the fabric to the floor. What he didn’t expect you to do, though, was put your hand back on his still-twitching cock that sat tired and used against his stomach. He flinched a little as you palmed it, and you looked at him mischievously. Started to move your hand again, slow and steady, but firm.

“That’s… baby. Stop, I already came, I… fuck.” He winced, sucking in a sharp breath. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You chuckled, voice turning a little dangerous.

“Oh, you thought we were done?”

“Doll, that’s not – shit – that’s not fucking funny. It’s sensitive, I…” It turned into an uncomfortable hum, but you felt him twitch under your palm, slowly getting hard again. His leg gave a little involuntary kick, much to your satisfaction.

“I… what the fuck.” His voice went quiet and strained, and yours got menacing.

“Oh, you can take it, can’t you? Thought you said you liked me taking the lead a little. You can handle it, can’t you, Snow? Or do you want me to stop?”

“Mm. That’s… was different. Please.” You kept going, a rush washing over you as you wondered if he even knew what he was begging for. You got more daring, rubbing your palm over the tip, and grinned when he cried out.

“You want me to stop? Just say the word. I will.”

He was half-hard again, more cum leaking from his tip as you sped up just a little.

Eyes squeezed shut, he shook his head frantically as the rest of him trembled.

“Didn’t think so.”

His face was twisted like he was holding on desperately, trying to maintain control as you relished in his permission, and palmed him harder.

“Jesus fuck.” He said, voice getting louder now, legs twitching and hips bucking up in little jolts you were certain he couldn’t stop if he tried. You had him now, pliable like clay between your fingertips, shaking apart.

“Is that too much for you?” You taunted, getting cocky now.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snapped, but it fell flat when his voice broke halfway through the question. You laughed.

“I know exactly who I am, Snow. I’m the girl you’re gonna be stuck with for a long time, and I’ve got some demands to make. So listen closely, because I’m only going to say this once. You know what happened last week?” You were aware you were starting to sound almost as insane as him, but you didn’t care.

“You don’t ever,” you spat, “do that to me again. If you do, I swear on all of Panem, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand me?”

He whined, desperate, so far gone you weren’t sure he was fully listening.

“Say you fucking understand.”

“I… I understand. Fuck. Please. I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so fucking sorry-”

“You’re lucky I’m giving you another chance. From here on out, you only get to treat me like a whore when I tell you to. Okay?”

“Yes. Yes, okay. I understand. I’m… shit.”

“This is a partnership, starting now. We help each other. We trust each other. We talk to each other. We don’t go behind each other’s backs, or fuck around with other people. Okay?”

“Okay. That’s… doll, can you slow down just a little? You’re… I’m…”

“You’re gonna cum again?”

He nodded, chasing his breath. You leaned towards him, lowering your head to his chest and dragging your tongue against his collarbone.

“Good. You can cum again, Coryo.”

“Thank you. Thank you - fuck. That feels… I’m-”

“You gonna cum all over my hand again, baby? Do it, I’ve got you. You can cum now.”

The second time he came was with a pained cry, painting your hand until it dripped down your wrist and onto his stomach. When you finally released your grip, he slumped down and sighed, aftershocks still jolting through him.

“You heard what I said, didn’t you?”

“I did. And I understand.”

“Good.” You murmured into his ear, and you felt goosebumps rise on his torso, “Then I think we can come to an agreement.”

The week went by in a blur of whispered words and tangled limbs. He rarely left you alone, and you barely felt the time pass, every waking moment spent together, flesh on flesh. When he worked, it was at the small desk in his room, and he took plenty of breaks to lounge in bed with you or run you baths.

You learned each other’s tells, growing comfortable touching each other, but Snow stuck to his word, much to your annoyance.

Not until you trust me again, he’d said. Wasn’t it clear enough by you staying?

You’d all but moved into his room, sending Lucille back and forth with hampers for your clothes, which now hang in one side of his closet, or sat folded in his previously empty drawers. You felt closer to him than you ever had before, and the two of you had skin littered with bruises which made you grateful you didn’t have any public functions to attend for quite a while. He’d stopped leaving you to go into the city and work, instead managing people from afar, and letting them get on with their jobs so he could weed out the weakest links.

For the first time, it felt a little like he was yours. Or as much yours as he possibly could be. And as you spent more time together, not just half-dressed and desperate, but talking, really talking, you slowly started to feel like you could be his, too.

“Tell me it feels better than he did. When you were together.” He whispered one morning, when you’d not long woken up and he’d immediately ducked under the covers to get between your thighs. He paused, fingers inside you, looking at you intently, and at first you were confused as to what he meant. You heard the tinge of vulnerability in his voice, and took the cue.

“You really think you deserve that? After everything?”

“No.” He whispered, eyes dropping down again.

“So what do we say?”

“Please.”

“One more time for me.”

He spoke up, voice gorgeously wrecked.

“Please. Tell me it’s better.”

“That’s good. And since you’re being good, I’ll tell you. He didn’t…” you swallowed, catching yourself, “He didn’t really like doing that. what you’re doing.” Your facade cracked a little and you glanced off to the side, not sure what reaction you were expecting.

“Really?” His voice was dumbfounded. It made you laugh.

“You know, Snow, a lot of guys don’t. They’re lazy about it. Want to get it over with, get to the real thing.”

A wide smile pulled at his lips, wolfish.

“Who wouldn’t want to do this?”

“Easy for you to say, handsome.”

He grinned wider.

“Can I try something?”

“I don’t know. will I like it?”

“I think we both will.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper.

“Okay, Coryo.”

His smile only deepened, pulling into an excited smirk as he gripped your hips once more, lightly kissing your thighs as he got closer to where you wanted him.

You gasped as his tongue worked you, and when you came, he kept going, easing up only after you’d fallen apart more times than you could keep count.

“Can’t believe you still won’t fuck me.” You pouted one day, as he sat at the desk with a pen in hand, scratching against paper.

He turned around to face you.

“I told you why. Not until-”

“I trust you again, I know. But how do you know that? I could trust you just fine and you wouldn’t even know it.”

“I’ll know.”

You hummed.

“Or,” you started, slipping off the bed and pacing towards him, “you could just fuck me now and call it square.”

He chuckled.

“Nice try, sweetheart.”

You pulled a lip between your teeth as you stood next to him, and he moved his chair out towards you. You smoothed a hand over his dress shirt, and grabbed a hold of his tie. Then you hooked a leg over both of his and lowered yourself onto his lap, face right next to his. You’d grown comfortable with being close to him, and while it still felt electric, you could handle it better. You rocked your hips on his as you got comfortable.

“Feel familiar?”

He hummed in response.

“I’m getting flashbacks.”

You smirked.

“Can I take this off?” You tugged at his shirt.

“Only if you play nice. No acting up, okay?”

“If you say so.” You shrugged, making quick work of the tie and buttons. Once the shirt was off, your lips were all over him, trailing over his chest and neck, tongue tracing lines across his collarbones.

“You don’t have to be anywhere for the next week, do you?” You murmured into his ear.

“No.” His breath hitched a little.

“Good.”

With that, you closed your lips around his pulse, and sucked.

While you littered his whole torso with bruises, and your neck was given a few of its own, you started rocking your hips lazily against him, playing coy like you didn’t know what you were doing, like you couldn’t feel him rock hard between your legs.

“Now this really is taking me back.” His voice strained when he spoke.

You only hummed in response, lace panties bunching in an all-too-familiar way. But you didn’t work your hips like you had something to prove this time, you went slower, taking your time, but staying deliberate in your movements. Your lips met his, breaking away only to breathe, then again when you felt his hips roll a little and his breath get laboured.

You rocked your hips harder, nice and firm. You could feel his cock twitch through his pants, right up against the wet spot forming on your panties. The friction had you shaking.

“Feel good?” You breathed.

“Yeah. Feels real fucking good, sweetheart.”

You smiled as your head lolled back, gasping loud to make sure he really heard it.

“You know what would feel even better, though?”

He mumbled something back but you didn’t catch it, lost in the haze.

“Think it’d feel better if you were fucking me for real right now.”

You didn’t expect the broken moan that escaped him, hands gripping your hips hard. Like the thought of it was enough to make him shatter.

“Baby,” he warned, “don’t.”

“But it would be so easy.” You pressed, “pushing my panties to the side and fucking into me right now.”

“Doll-”

“I know you want to.” you whispered against his ear.

“Do you now?” His strained voice told you everything you needed to know.

You nodded. “Mhm. I know you do. I also know that it’s driving you crazy, having me this close, but not able to take what you want. You must be going out of your mind, you know how I know?”

“How?”

“Because I am too. I’m tired of this rule, Snow. Let’s just forget about it, and fuck me already.”

“Get up.” He said firmly. You started.

“What?”

“You heard me. I said get up, sweetheart.”

You climbed off his lap and stood, cautiously, legs shaking from how close you’d gotten. He did the same, towering over you a little as you failed to hide the smile on your face.

“Get on the bed.”

You took in a breath, shaky with nerves.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

You sat back on the bed, peering over the mattress as he ducked down to pick up something from the floor.

“What are you-”

“Eyes closed.”

“Okay.” You shut your eyes, then felt him get close to you, his lips meeting yours as he knelt in front you, mattress dipping as he shifted. His hands brushed your arms, slowly pushing them behind your back as you melted into him, and before you could open your eyes, you felt the smooth silk of his tie wrap around your wrists and pull.

“What-”

“You want to act up, doll? Fine. Let’s see how many times I can make you cum all over my fingers before you’re begging me to stop.”

His hand slipped between your legs, pushing your lace panties to the side and pressing a finger into your wet cunt as you cried out. Your eyes pleaded at him, desperate.

“But why can’t you-”

“I said,” he repeated, pressing his finger into the spot that make you see stars, “not. Fucking. Yet.”

He spent hours fingering you open, making you cum until you cried. Then he cleaned up your tears and kissed like you were his whole world as you fell into an exhausted sleep, his words floating around in your head.

The black box was tied with a crisp white ribbon, and sat waiting for you on your bed. You approached it with caution, thumbing the piece of card on top of it. It was a note written in ink.

Wear this tonight. Think you’ll suit it well.

- C.S

You’d gone into your room to collect something of yours to take to Snow’s room. You rarely went into your room anymore, most of your things had found their place in his, much to your satisfaction.

It was the first day in about two weeks that Coriolanus had finally had to leave the house to go into the city, but he’d promised it would just be for the day. It was also the first gala you had to attend since you’d made your decision, which you were slightly nervous for, but mostly excited to get out of the house, because although the sacred oasis that his room had become, it would be nice to have a change of scenery.

And that brought you back to the beautifully wrapped box lay in front of you. You were buzzing. You turned the note over in your hands, pulling it to your face to breathe it in. It smelt like newly printed books, and something distinctly him.

You recognised the label on the box, it was one of your favorite designers. You pushed the lid away to reveal the most beautiful dress you’d ever laid your eyes on – and you’d seen some impressive pieces.

It was a dark crimson red with gold embroidery, soft as silk. You unfolded it gently, letting the fabric spill out towards the floor. It was a little more revealing than anything you currently owned, with a deep slit up the leg and a plunging neckline, waist cinched, but the rest of the dress was floor length. A smile crept onto your face.

After counting down the hours, it was finally time to make your way downstairs. Snow stood in a full suit, waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

“You look beautiful.” He remarked.

“You don’t look too shabby yourself.” You smiled in response.

You met at the foot of the stairs, and he took your hand in his.

“Thank you for the dress. It’s gorgeous.” You added, not sure why you were lowering your voice in your own lobby.

“I knew it would suit you. Now you’re almost ready to go.”

“Almost?” You frowned, not sure what you could possibly be missing.

Coriolanus lifted his hand to pull the white rose from his breast pocket. He examined it, then lifted it to your hair and tucked it gently behind your ear. Your lips parted in surprise, and your hand reached up to meet his.

“But it’s your signature. I couldn’t-”

“I know. But people won’t be looking at me tonight. They’ll be looking at you. And this way, when they do, each and every one of them will know that you’re mine.”

That knowing smile crept back onto your face, and you leaned in to press your lips to his.

When you pulled away, you thumbed his tie, realising the color matched your dress exactly.

“I’m sensing a similar theme here.”

“Well, it’s been a while since we’ve been seen out in public. It’ll be good to show up like this, show a strong front, not leave any doubters.”

You hummed.

“And when we get home?”

His stare drew you in; you could get lost in it and never find your way out.

“That depends.”

Your gaze lowered to his lips, then back up again.

“Missed you today.” You said.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“You promise?”

He smiled.

“I promise, sweetheart.”

“Snow?”

He hummed in response. Your hand felt like it could melt into his, thumb brushing your palm.

“What would you say if I told you that I trust you now?”

His hand stilled. His eyes bored into yours.

“I’d say… that I believe you.”

You held your breath in, letting the anticipation wash over you.

“Later?” You whispered, and he nodded.

“Later.”

The ball was one of the most extravagant you’d seen, large chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and fountains of champagne dotted around. The health minister had outdone himself, and when you said so to Snow, he muttered a comment about him spending more time planning parties than doing his real job. But he smiled to all the right people, and his hand in yours calmed your nerves as a large procession saw you into the ballroom.

You danced until your feet turned numb, spinning on the ballroom floor, every time Coriolanus put his hands on your waist or wrapped his hand around yours drawing you in further, bringing you closer to forgetting everyone was watching you when his eyes were on yours, each stare becoming some secret language you were now terribly well-versed in. He didn’t let himself get distracted this time, quickly gravitating back to you any time he got pulled away into a conversation, and you basked in the attention, the two of you flirting to high heaven. When you’d spun until you were dizzy, he went to get you a drink, and you stepped off the floor of twirling couples.

It was then that you saw your mother, standing anxiously to one side, the stem of a champagne glass pressed between her fingers. Your parents rarely made it to these functions, but apparently, they had made time for this one. Suddenly aware of your frown and not wanting to arise suspicion, you plastered on a false smile and swanned through the crowd in her direction.

“Oh, darling. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Of course I am, mother, I wouldn’t miss it. Is everything alright?”

She glanced around the two of you nervously, fiddling with her glass. You touched her shoulder and gently guided her further into the corner of the room. You rarely saw her this distressed, usually the picture of grace and poise.

“What’s wrong?” You pressed.

“Have you heard from Nathaniel?”

Your brows furrowed.

“Nathaniel Greene? Not in a long time.” You figured the little stunt of yours from the month before should go unmentioned.

“I heard from his parents the other day. They’re completely distraught.”

“Why? What on earth happened?”

For a second, echoes of threats that had long settled to the ground popped back into the forefront of your mind, and you swallowed thickly. You sat down in two small chairs at the side of the room.

“They can’t begin to understand why. Perhaps it was work, perhaps he was gambling, or in debt, but nothing could possibly explain such a cruel fate.”

“Mother, tell me what happened. Is he…”

Her hands shook, and you took the glass of champagne from her and placed it on a nearby tray.

“He’s not dead, my darling. It’s worse. A messenger came to his house late the other night. They asked him to pack a bag, and they took him away. To… I can barely say it.”

“Mother,” you gritted, “tell me.”

“A peacekeeper, of all things.” Horror filled her voice. “They sent him away to the districts, for the next twenty years. But what could he have done? I can barely understand it. Can you imagine? A young man of his standing, wasting away in that place? His family is ruined.”

Right then, the crowd around you parted in a way that could only announce the presence of one person.

“Sweetheart, is everything okay?”

You lifted your head to meet cool blue eyes and a slightly suspicious stare. From where you sat, Snow towered over you both, drink in hand.

“Everything’s fine.” You replied, “my mother isn’t feeling too well. Do you think we could find my father and have him take her home?”

He nodded at an Avox nearby who stepped dutifully away without missing a beat, and a server offered your mother a tray with a glass of water on it. You stood and faced Coriolanus, conscious of the now very interested crowd, and nodded to the large double doors that stood to your right.

“A word?”

He followed you in cautiously.

“I just heard something interesting.” You started.

He stood up straight, setting his jaw when you finally turned to face him. Even though you were barely alone, just a closed door between you and hundreds of people, it felt electric to be standing so close to him again with nobody watching you.

“What’s that?”

Playing it safe. An interesting move.

“Oh, just some rumor about an old friend of ours.”

“Who would that be?”

You smiled.

“I thought it was funny you asked about him the other day. Were you worried if I left you I’d go back to him?”

“Not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t play coy, Coriolanus.” You drawled. “You sent Nathaniel off to be a peacekeeper so I couldn’t go back to him.”

His stony façade fell through a little.

“And if I did?”

The deep frown you’d plastered onto your face for your mother’s benefit fell away, and your lips curved into a smirk.

“I’d say... well played.”

He blinked.

“You’re not upset?”

“Over him? Barely.”

“You’re - ” Snow paused, “so you’re not angry that I sent him away? The districts are hell, you know.”

“I’m sure. I don’t care, Snow. If anything, I’m impressed.”

“Why?”

You shrugged.

“He had it coming. He slept with my closest friend a week after we ended things. He never knew I found out. I’ve just been waiting, really, for him to get what he deserves. I doubted you’d let him off without a warning. There I was thinking you’d lost your touch for a while.”

You wanted to bottle the feeling you got from his eyes burning into you, with something that tasted like admiration.

“I nearly did let him off, for your sake.” He confessed. “But... if that's the case, I'm glad I changed my mind."

“So am I. It was that weekend I left, wasn’t it?”

“Damage control." He said tightly, "You can’t blame me.”

“Thought so. Good work, Snow.” You stepped towards him and revelled in the apprehension on his face with a smirk. “It’s a shame for his family, but they were never particularly nice. Collateral, I suppose.”

“You really don’t care at all?”

“Does it look like I care?”

“No.”

“I think you can read me as well as the next person. So I don’t care. Is that so tragic?”

He shook his head, bewildered. A strange smile appeared on his face.

“No, that’s… that’s good.”

You smirked as a thought popped into your head.

“How long do you think he’ll last out there?”

“Who knows? I hope you’re not banking on him ever coming back.”

You fiddled with his tie, smoothing it down.

“Never. We can’t all be Coriolanus Snow, can we?”

“Certainly not.”

You stepped even closer, and his back bumped softly against the wall. His gaze fell to your lips. You'd painted them a red so deep it was almost black, matching the dress.

"You like the color?" You asked.

"Yeah. Reminds me of when you kissed me in front of everyone and I couldn't get it off."

You laughed.

"Well, it was one way of getting your attention."

"It drove me fucking crazy, you know. It's all I thought about when I jerked off for weeks."

Fuck. Your eyes went a little heavy, laden with want.

“I hope this hasn’t changed our plans tonight.” You murmured.

“Has it changed them for you?”

You shook your head quickly.

“No. You?”

“Of course not.” He brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face.

“Good. Because now he’s out of our way, I’m tired of this party. I want to go home."

His eyes darkened a little and he drew in a breath.

“I’ll go say my goodbyes.”

With one of his hands on the doorknob, you stopped him.

“Snow?”

“Yes?”

“I don't want you to be nice. Later, I mean.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was just a few squeezes shy of breaking off the doorknob.

Your body slammed against his bedroom door with a force. His hands travelled under your clothes; wanting, needing to touch. You sighed and gasped at the feeling, his cold hands on your skin shooting chills through you, tugging off your clothes, kissing your neck, taking all that he wanted but still desperate for more. The rose had long fallen from your hair and lay, forgotten, on the hardwood. He kissed you with purpose, like he was once again trying to prove that he owned you, all the while understanding that he couldn’t. Maybe that’s what pushed him to touch you, to kiss you like it was the last time, like he was scared you’d float away somehow, even though you both know that wouldn’t really happen.

You understood it, because you felt the same way about him.

You revelled in it, in the way his hands wrapped around your back, lowered to your legs, and lifted you up to push you harder against the door. His lips travelled across every square inch of bare skin he could find, your dress pushed down to your waist, lace bra exposed.

“Take it off.” He whispered, and you arched your back, reaching for the clasp and unhooking it with lightning speed. The lights were dim in his room, casting shadows that danced as the two of you moved together. Your head fell back against the solid wood as Coriolanus licked a trail up your neck. It was depraved, more passionate than anything you’d felt before. You could hardly think, blood pumping through your veins faster than you could stand. The only thing louder than the rush of blood in your ears was the sound of your breath mixing, hot and heavy as you took, impatient and without apology.

You cried out as his hips pressed harder into yours, and you could feel his length pressing up against you for the hundredth time. Except this time, you could finally let yourself imagine him inside you and trust that he wouldn’t turn this into another round of the game you’d thought endless. You squeezed your legs around his hips.

“Bed.” You gasped, and he grinned, wolfish and thrilled. You were the luckiest girl in Panem, to get to see him look at you that way.

“Been waiting to get this dress off you since I had it made.”

“Don’t tear it. Be gentle.”

“With you, or the dress?”

You narrowed your eyes as he carried you to the bed and placed you down on the mattress.

“Thought I told you that already.”

He was careful with the dress, slipping it over your hips and draping it over the back of the desk chair. When he came back, you were propped up on your elbows, legs bent at the knee, stare unwavering, panties the only thing left to take off. He was still wearing too much, shirt messily undone, pants still fastened but barely concealing the tent beneath them.

“You sure about this?” He checked.

“That a trick question?”

“Doll.”

You laughed.

“Yes, I’m sure. Take off your shirt, handsome.”

He pulled off the white shirt methodically, and you shifted onto your knees to pull off his belt and toss it to the floor, eager to speed things along. You took in his toned chest and let your gaze sink down to his boxers, where his cock stood painfully hard beneath the material.

“Can I…” You prompted.

“Fuck. Yes. Please.” He sighed as your nails trailed up the bare skin of his thigh and brushed softly over his cock.

You smiled at the addition and took one last glance at his face, anticipation clear on his features that morphed a little in the near-darkness. Then, you pulled the material down his legs and his cock sprung free, and you forgot that you’d done this before, that you were used to this, to him, to being with him in almost every sense. It all slipped away, and as your hand reached to touch him with nothing between the two of you, it felt like the first time you’d ever done it. The breath he sucked in as you started to push the precum around his tip urged you on, making you brazen, and you readjusted your knees on the bed and got closer, then licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip.

“Oh my – fuck.” He groaned, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face, grateful for the darkness.

“That okay?”

He laughed, something dark and untethered.

“You fucking know it is. Such a fucking tease.”

“Wouldn’t be such a tease if we’d done this sooner.”

“Somehow I doubt that, sweetheart – ah.”

He was cut off by you taking the tip of his cock in your mouth and sucking hard as you gripped the base. You pumped your hand a few times and revelled in the sounds he made, choked out grunts and broken sighs, mixed with the occasional curse or a cry of your name.

You felt his hand gently brush against your hair, ever so cautious.

“Can I…”

“Mhm.” You hummed in the affirmative, and he sighed, all low and shaky as he pushed his fingers through your locks, not guiding, just careful pressure on your scalp as he let you take the lead.

“Baby,” he gritted out, “I don’t know how much longer I can… fuck, that’s-”

He sucked in a sharp breath as you stopped, pulling off, lips swollen. You looked up at him, stunned as he caught his breath.

“Coriolanus?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we turn a light on? I can’t… I want to see you.”

In the shadows, you could just make out the glint of his eyes and a dumbfounded smile.

“Of course.”

He stepped away, kicking off his boxers, and you watched him reach over the desk to switch on a small lamp. It lit up his face and you took him in, a thin cast of sweat shimmering across his face and chest. When he turned, you glanced away like you hadn’t been staring. He caught on with a grin.

“Like what you see?”

Such a dick.

“I’d like it better if you were over here.” You mumbled as he paced back towards you.

“You’re the one who wanted the light on, sweetheart. Now I know why.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Snow.”

“Coryo.” His breath danced against your lips as he closed in, lips sealing against yours as he pushed you back on the bed.

“Coryo.” You repeated with a smile when he pulled away kissing down your neck and chest, feeling the shape of the name in your mouth.

Then his hands were on you again as if they’d never left. More heat pooled between your legs as he trailed his hands down your thighs, and you let your head fall back as his fingers pressed through the seam of your panties.

His breath got shaky again as his fingers pushed the scrap of wet fabric to the side. You gasped as his thumb went straight to your clit, determined, rubbing tight circles against the hard nub.

“Oh my god, Coryo, I-”

“So fucking wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me?”

It was too much all at once. You pressed your lips together tightly and nodded. Beside yourself, your left hand pressed against your mouth to muffle your moans.

Then he fucking stopped. Your hand fell from your mouth, and you felt the lace get pulled down your legs.

“What are you…” You trailed off. The dim light let you make out his face and you could see his expression now, wanting, but careful, methodical.

“Open your mouth.”

When your lips parted, a little in response, but moreso in surprise, the two fingers he’d been using on your clit slipped into your mouth, pulling your jaw open as his other hand propped him up. You could taste yourself, hot and heavy, spilling onto your tongue.

“I want to hear you, baby. You can’t cover your mouth like that if I’m gonna hear you.”

You nodded, brain a little dead.

“Good girl. Now I don’t have a free hand, know what that means?”

You cried out a little, tongue trapped beneath his fingers.

“Touch yourself, doll. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get you nice and fucking close, okay?”

A little self-aware with him hovering right above you, you snaked a hand between your legs, but when you saw the look on his face you stopped wasting time, pushing two fingers inside yourself, heel of your hand bumping your clit as a whine slipped past your lips.

He kept talking, whispering hot and heavy into your ear, dragging his lips over your neck, pressing kisses wherever he could reach, every touch burning your skin like it was molten. When you’d lost yourself enough, mouth still parted; his fingers gentler now he’d made his point, he ducked his head lower, trailing his lips over your tits, placed his mouth over your nipple and sucked. Your moans got louder, feeling like every inch of skin he covered was hardwired to your cunt, your fingers getting tired and sloppy as you got yourself closer, dripping down your thighs.

You made a sound and he glanced up at you, pulling his fingers from your mouth.

“Just fuck me. Please, I can’t wait anymore, Coryo.” You whined, trying desperately to slow down your breathing.

“Poor baby. Couldn’t make yourself cum first?”

You shook your head, any more and you were sure your eyes would start to water.

“That’s okay, doll. I wasn’t gonna let you anyway.”

He lowered himself down towards you, arms either side of yours, crowding you in. Then his hands travelled down, lower, and your eyes rolled back, mouth agape as you felt his cock press against your entrance.

“Fuck.” You whispered, and he was strangely quiet. You blinked, and looked down at him, and you’d never seen such a pained look on his face. His lips parted, eyes heavy and slitted as he looked down at where his cock rubbed up and down like he was in a trance, slowly nudging your clit and getting himself wetter, tip glistening in the dim light.

Desperate for friction, you started rocking your hips, aching for him to push inside of you.

“Not just yet.” He breathed, voice strung-out and insane. “I won’t make you wait much longer, baby.”

“Please. I need you to fuck me. Don’t make me fucking beg.”

Usually, you’d see a sly smile appear on his face, but he just pressed his eyes closed as if the thought was going to send him over the edge. It was the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. Then, finally, you felt his cock catch at your entrance, and slowly press inside. You gasped at the pressure, at the size of him, and he was barely even moving.

“That’s it, baby.” He breathed. “I’m right here.”

He shifted his hips a little, and you clawed at his back, nails digging in until he hissed, rocking your hips to beg for more. You didn't want him holding back, not when you'd waited months for this. You strained your neck lifting it from the bed to whisper in his ear.

“I meant what I said, Coryo. Don’t be fucking nice.”

It was as if something in him snapped. Like he was holding on by a single thread, and you’d send him spiralling out of control. His hips jerked forward and you cried out as he filled you to the hilt, then rocked into you again, picking up a pace that was almost punishing. You tasted it, still wet on your lips, clung to your skin, and now, deep inside you.

Danger.

“So fucking pretty. Does my pretty girl need to get fucked, huh? Just like that?”

You could barely form words, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in further, feeling pinned open and beautifully used. Your cries melted together in your head until you could only understand bits and pieces, and as he fucked you, unrelenting, you felt your back slide up the mattress. Your nails dug into his back, and you were sure they must’ve drawn blood. His forehead pressed against yours,

For a second, he slowed, looking down at you.

“That okay?” He muttered.

You nodded, frantic, barely there.

“Yeah.”

He sped up again and your legs grew weak. He reached his free hand down to grab hold of your thigh and push it higher, the new angle making you see stars, clenching around him impossibly tight.

“Good fucking girl.”

At some point, as you exchanged fewer words and more heated glances, you felt your hand slip from his back and come to rest against over his on your thigh, to hold it in place. He took it in stride, taking it in his, fingers interlacing as his thumb brushed yours.

You didn’t think much of it. How could you? Not when he was stretching the walls of your cunt as you gripped him like a vice. Not when you could barely hear the words coming from either of your mouths. But oddly, it was the gentle contrast that pushed you to the edge as he fucked into you just like you’d asked, hard and unrelenting, mean.

Despite it all, it was the thumb that brushed yours that had moans spilling from your mouth as you both took exactly what you wanted from each other. It sparked something in you, something that let you know you were safe here, that there weren’t any walls between you anymore, no twisted games that wouldn’t benefit you both equally.

“I’m close.” You gasped as his cool blue eyes spilled into yours, and you knew he was all yours.

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? I can feel it.”

You nodded silently, muscles in our thighs tensing around his back, the hand that was twisted into yours now falling onto the bed beside you. He gripped it tighter, and fucked you harder, with a point to prove. When your eyes slid shut in ecstasy, right on the edge of falling apart, he squeezed your hand, palms hot and clammy against each other just like the rest of you.

“Look at me, baby.” He urged, fighting for breath. “You’re so fucking close, I need – shit – need to see you when you cum for me.”

It wasn’t hard to keep your eyes open, to keep them on him when he looked like that, like he was carved by the fucking gods, brow scrunched and shining with sweat, eyes bluer than ever, lips parted in an o shape. It was the prettiest sight you’d seen, and your hand tensed around his when you came, trembling like a leaf, mouth parting in a shout you barely heard, eyes focused on him, only him as he fucked you through it.

"Fuck, that's it, doll. Like that? Right fucking there?"

You cried out in response, and as you spilled apart, you heard your name slip past his lips through your ringing ears , followed by a string of curses, each one filthier than the next, not letting up once as he followed you over the edge, hips stuttering as you felt warmth fill your walls and his head fall down onto the pillow beside yours.

A few moments passed as you let the feeling wash over you, feeling the wonderfully sore, sticky mess between your thighs after he pulled out. You heard him catch his breath, then tumble onto his back by your side. You sighed as you stared at the ceiling, then at him, and with a smile realised he’d been looking at you.

“Like what you see?” You echoed. He smiled, coy.

“You know I do, beautiful.”

You sighed, satisifed.

“Keep calling me beautiful, Snow, and I might start thinking you want to fuck me.” You teased. “Wouldn’t want to give a girl the wrong idea.”

He laughed, bright and loud. A few more seconds passed, and you hummed.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Nothing.” You shrugged. “I’m just a little annoyed I didn’t get to ride you.”

He swallowed then smiled, almost awe-like, transfixed. It was a feeling that you’d gotten used to over the past few weeks, but it felt new this time. Different.

“You’re not done?”

“Are you?”

He glanced at your lips, then back up again, voice earnest.

“Not with you, sweetheart.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper.

“Good. Then lay back. Head on the pillow for me.”

He obliged, blonde curls spilling over the fabric. You liked it when he grew his hair out a little, you thought as you hooked a leg over his waist. His hands came up to touch you, but you pressed his wrists back into the mattress.

“No touching, Coryo. You hear me?”

He nodded, eyes darkening again, and you lowered your head to kiss him, deep and slow. Felt yourself meld into him with a smile as his cock hardened against your thigh.

From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the white rose he'd given you, discarded haphazardly on the wooden floor.

And something inside you just knew, you’d never get bored of this.

a/n: hope you liked it. thank you again for the love and for screaming along with me this whole time <33

taglist: (more in the comments) : @superchatnoir07 @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904@pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @ohstardew @ohmeadows

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 4 months

Text

Kids and a 'break up'

quinn hughes x nhl player!reader

note: takes place probably april 9th

warning: period blood, maybe getting second hand embarrassment, pregnancy/kids talk (no one gets pregnant)

word count: 1k

The sun shining through the blinds, waking Y/n from her deep sleep. Slowly slipping Quinn’s arm from around her waist, shuffling towards the bathroom, the cold apartment is a stark difference from the warm bed especially with just wearing a pair of Quinn’s boxers and a cropped t-shirt.

The girl washing her face and brushing her teeth, then moving to the toilet, only then did Y/n notice the crisis she was in. She hadn’t gotten her period in a couple months, and it always was irregular so it was only a matter of time until this happened.

“Oh fuck..” Y/n mumbles to herself, before getting a tampon from under the sink, Quinn had bought some without her asking after the woman started staying over more and more. The boy was always so thoughtful towards her and it wasn’t just this, he learned that she hates onions and when they went out with the team the other night he reminded her to ask for no onions when she forgot, and always lets her have a bite of whatever he’s having. And it was to the point where it was starting to worry Y/n that maybe Quinn was getting attached, but that was not something to worry about right now.

Then washing her hands, and exiting the bathroom to find Quinn stripping the bed. “No Quinny, you don’t have to do that.” she assures the boy, walking over to her side of the bed to take over, “No, no, I can. Grab another pair of boxers from my drawer.” What he was saying was embarrassing, the fact he saw the blood spot on his boxers she was wearing, but the way Quinn said it was so caring, and understanding. That she couldn’t help but not feel embarrassed at all. Folding up the sheet, and moving towards the door, “I’m gonna go wash these.” “Thanks, Quinny.” “Of course.”

After changing into a new pair of Quinn’s boxers, Y/n makes her way into the living room and seeing the man sitting on the couch, “Hey, baby!” “Hey, sorry about that.” “Nah, it’s fine, it’s natural.. And at least we know you’re not pregnant.” maybe not a good topic to bring up with your teammate/fuck-buddy, especially when he wants more from their relationship.

“Oh well, don’t have to worry about that.” The woman laughs out, but looking up when she didn’t hear Quinn join in, “What do you mean?” Looking up from her phone, “My tubes are tied, I can’t get pregnant” “Ever?” “No not never, I also got my eggs frozen so after I retire if I want kids I'll have them then.” At that, Y/n thought the conversation was done. But Quinn was not done at all.

“‘If’? You’re not sure you want kids?” Quinn had made all these plans for them in his head, but this was the first time he thought they might not happen; for a reason other than him being too scared to ever ask her out on a date.

But Y/n being Y/n was oblivious to the fact that Quinn clearing wanted more, and that this conversation to him wasn’t between friends, it was between himself and the girl he wants more than anything. So of course, once again, she gives him a one dimensional answer, “Well it’s hard to say, not anytime soon. Not that I had a guy even if I did want them now.”

“What about me?”

There was a significant shift in the air, Y/n finally realising how important this conversation was to him, putting down her phone; looking into Quinn’s eyes, reading every thought, and feeling every emotion. “...Quinn. No. No- that’s not fair, you knew this was nothing serious. We agreed this was nothing serious-”

Quinn abruptly stands, walking into the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water, “I wasn’t done! Quinn, we said we wouldn’t get attached, that this was-” “Well you can't control when you love someone.”

After another pause between them, Y/n not knowing how to process or respond to Quinn’s confession. He loved her. And before this, Y/n thought she didn’t have any feelings other than sexual attraction, but at this moment; Y/n couldn’t say that.

And that terrified her.

“Quinn. We can’t do that. And I don’t feel the same-” The woman was cut off, by Quinn finally fully expressing his emotions, harshly setting the glass in his hand on the counter with a loud noise, “Don’t tell me you don’t. ‘Cause with the way you act with me I can tell you do. And I know that scares you, but I'm tired of pretending that I don't want more with you.”

Turning her face away, no longer being able to look at Quinn any longer without bursting into tears. Because, god, he was right. She liked him- maybe loved him, but that doesn’t change the fact she wasn’t ready. “I don’t.” She had never lied to Quinn, it felt weird coming out of her mouth.

“Bullshit! I know you do!” “I don’t love you.” “Why can’t you?”

Turning her face back to face the man, tears streaming down her face, and seeing the mirroring image back at her on him. “I think we should end this… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh well, don’t have to worry about that.”

Quickly gathering her things, Y/n exits the apartment she has grown to know so well over the past few months, she loved every part of it. Hot tears were rolling down her cheeks, while in the elevator, in the lobby, and getting in her car. Slamming the door shut, mad at the world, and at herself. “Fuck!” Y/n loved the time she and Quinn spent together, wishing she could let herself be happy, her heart telling her Quinn would never hurt her, but her head telling the opposite. What she didn’t expect to happen was her doing all the hurting.

After the door shuts to his apartment, Quinn letting out all his feelings and emotions, slams his fist into the wall; making a small dent. “Fuck!” At the start of their ‘relationship’ he couldn’t even call it that, Quinn thought he would finally break down all her walls and get to be with the girl he loved, someone he thought would never hurt him, that he spent so much time making sure he didn’t cross boundaries and didn’t hurt her, what he didn’t expect was her doing the all hurting.

~taglist~

@books-hlmc

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x nhl player!reader #quinn hughes x player!reader #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x fem reader #quinn hughes x fem!reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x y/n

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azulaoi · 5 months

Text

A Warm Study

Isaac x Housekeeper (M4A ver.)

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: You've been hard at work with Isaac ever since you agreed upon being his assistant and lover. Not knowing what else could happen during this long night of work, your thoughts were proven wrong.

✨This writing is SFW✨

No wink wonk moments here whehe. For now >:)

A Warm Study

By: Azulaoi

It's been awhile since you've been in the library, reading and examining key factors in the current case you and Isaac have been trying to crack. Your fatigue was at its beginning, but your determination about this case's finale kept your eyelids lifted as every page engulfed you in curiosity and new possible leads. Whilst you were reciting the case, Isaac took notes and carefully set salient sheets of paper to the side - to be studied later for interrogation. Being his assistant in these matters truly made work easy for him - whilst still housekeeping, you enjoyed both jobs.

You two examined and studied into the night with no interruption. Not for long, hunger began to build overtime during your study. "I guess it's time for a break?" you thought. You look at Isaac, pondering over something on his laptop while he fidgets with his pen. You scoot closer to him to see what he was looking at; he was looking at some sort of address. He notices your close presence and glances at you, "Are you alright? Are you getting tired, [name?]". You rest your head on his shoulder, looking at him, "No, not at all. Why do you say that?". He looks at you directly, "Well, it's obvious, isn't it? We've been working since this morning with no breaks in between - it seems like we haven't eaten dinner yet. Except breakfast, of course.". When he mentioned dinner, you immediately got up.

He laughs, "Heh, no need to be alarmed. You don't need to cook dinner today. Let's eat something that doesn't require much work, alright?". You respond, "true... What shall we eat?". He put his pen down, closed his laptop and got up. "Let's eat, check and see if we have any frozen foods we can heat up.". You nod at his suggestion and head toward the kitchen.

You sit near the counter as he walks over and opens the refrigerator. He stood there until he pulled a frozen pizza from the freezer. "Hmm... I think this shall do. I wouldn't consider this dinner - it's more like a midnight snack," he laughs. It was late however, you wanted to eat something before you two could continue work. He opens one of the cabinets and grabs two glasses, "Before I bake the pizza, we should refresh ourselves first. God knows how long I haven't gone without drinking water today...". He then poured water into both glasses and handed one glass to you.

Isaac begins to converse about the current case you both have trying to figure out. You tried your best to hold onto every word he said, but all you could do was stand there and admire how passionate he was about this case. "Perhaps I'm too tired to keep track of what he's saying," you thought as you sip onto the glass. Suddenly, you leaned the glass too close, spilling it all over your chest. You held onto the glass tightly to not drop it. The impact of the cold water seeps through your top, leaving nothing but slight exposure. Isaac immediately puts down his glass, deeply sighing, "Here, let me help you. My [name], you are so clumsy.".

He grabs a couple napkins from the kitchen counter, drying your top gently. "I'm sorry, Isaac. I don't think napkins are going to help. I'm completely drenched..." you say in a disappointing tone. He stops wiping and looks at you, "Are you... also wet from the inside of your top?". You nod and blush at his response. He hums, pondering for a moment. He clears his throat, "Take off your top.". You blink rapidly, "Come again?". He repeats it once more but in a demanding tone, "Take off your top, [name]. I'll go get you a new one.". Your eyes widened as the tension between you both rose. You didn't want to make the situation more awkward, so you did what he asked.

Slipping your top off, you felt a cold breeze caress your body. Shivering, you crossed your arms around your chest to cover yourself. "Thanks, I'll be ba-", he stops mid sentence and glances at you. He begins to examine you, instantly blushing as his eyes lay on your exposed torso. "Is there something wrong?" you asked worriedly. He shakes his head, unbuttoning his shirt, "It's nothing... Anyways, I'll lend you my shirt for the time being. I can't see you freezing like this.". You watch as he slowly unbuttons the last half of his shirt, slipping it off his shoulders and wrapping it around yours.

Your gaze wanders around his torso. Internally salivating his veiny biceps, his bare big pectorals shining from the kitchen lights, and his beautiful crafted abs. "He looks absolutely dreamy," you thought to yourself. "I want to feel them...". He was taken aback from your non-filter response. "You... Want to feel what?" his eyebrows furrow and cheeks flushed. You step closer to Isaac, your eyes still glued onto his glamorous chest. Your inner instinct wanted to feel him, but you couldn't bring yourself to. Soon enough, your eyes drifted away from embarrassment. "I'm sorry... My mind completely slipped. I shouldn't have stared at you like that.". Isaac catches your gaze and caresses your cheek, "You don't need to apologize. Safe to admit, even I can't keep my eyes off of you sometimes... Like right now.".

You grabbed his hand and slowly lay your cheek against it. "It's so warm...". Your eyes connect with his, peering at him with fondness. Isaac smirks at you - as you continue to rest and rub your cheek on his hand. It felt so comfortable that you could fall asleep - his hand like a pillow. Your eyes began to rest, laying your head fully on his hand. You didn't want your fatigue to win you over but instead wanted to savor this moment with Isaac.

What felt like ages snuggling against his hand, you open your eyes to see him leaning close to you. Planting his soft lips on yours, you close your eyes once more. You rest your arms on his bare chest as his arms wrap around your waist. Trembling from his touch, you pull him closer, deepening the kiss between you both. It felt so warm being so close against him, especially since the house has been freezing lately. You could've asked him to turn on the heater, but your heart wanted him to be your personal heater and his warm touch around your body.

He faintly sighs as he pulls away from your quivering lips, "I... Should go put on another shirt. I'll also put your top in the washer to wash. Stay put, alright?". You nod and stare at his bare back as he leaves the kitchen towards the laundry room. Once his silhouette disappears from your sight, you begin to giggle at the thought of his painted round red ears. "Was he blushing this whole time?" you thought, giggling. Even though he tries to brush it off and act cool, you never thought Isaac would look this cute when he's in this state. You, of course, wanted to see this side of him more often.

After waiting for his arrival for a few minutes, Isaac returns back. Your heart slightly drops as you notice something different from his facial expression: it was coldly stern. He walks up to you with his phone in hand "I'm sorry for taking a while, [name]. I was... Answering a call just now. Seems like we have found some new leads to our case.". You return his response with a smile, "That's great, isn't it? We are getting close to its finale!". He lets out a disappointing sigh, "Hm... Not quite, actually. This is still the beginning, and we still have lots to investigate here and there.". You nodded and looked down. "I know it's tough... But I'm truly grateful that you lend a hand on these cases. Without you, I would've pulled another all nighter," he says with a reassuring smile. "However, before we dig ourselves back into paperwork again... Would you like me to make us some coffee or tea?".

Your face lit up at his request, "Of course! I'll help make the pizza whilst you make the hot drinks-". He clears his throat, "Ah- no. How about... We make both of them together? Will that be okay with you, honey?". Your cheeks slightly flushed as he said the word honey. "Wait, did you just call me honey?". You ask as your eyes widened in surprise. His eyes fill with worry, "is that not a nickname of your preference? If not, I understand...". You shake your head, "No, no! It's okay! I don't mind at all. I... Love how you say it, to be honest.". He chuckles and gives you a nod in return, "Alright then, I shall call you that by now, honey.". He then gestured you into the kitchen to prepare yourselves a midnight snack.

Hearing him say honey a second time made your heart go berserk. It sounded heart warming and sweet - it had a nice ring. Of course, it sounded much better than being called a stray.

_______________________________________

I was fortunate enough to be able to finish this writing last night. It's short but... I hoped you all liked it :)

Thanks to my friend and best beta reader/grammar checker happiesttbearr for helping me out on spell check!

Love y'all Crumpets!

- Azulaoi💙

#zsakuva #zsakuva isaac #zsakuva isaac rhoades #isaac rhoades #zsakuva fan fic #zsaku

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gaybitchfx · 2 years

Note

I want to make a another request(if it's not a problem), from yushiro, sanemi, rengoku and genya with a couple who used to work in the red light district but managed to run away, however he was left with several sequels and thinks his body is "dirty" and they comfort him.

Sorry if it's too dark

Note: It’s not that dark well to me at least

Character(s): Yushiro, Sanemi, Rengoku, Genya

Type of reader: M!Reader

Category: Angst & Fluff

Warning(s): None

Edited: ❌

He knows about your history with working in the red light district as a man and boy was it something

The stories you'd tell him always made him sympathetic towards you because you had to endure all of that before finally leaving

You'd have a couple break downs here and there because of it

Yushiro walked in on you sitting down in the bathtub fully clothed as cold water poured on your body.

He knew this was another one of your melt downs so he didn't say anything but instead sat down on the floor next to you and held you close.

"Don't touch me!" You shouted and pushed him away a bit. "I-...I don;t wanna make you dirty either.." You mumbled and looked at your beloved Yushiro.

"It's okay Y/n, you aren't dirty.." Yushiro hushed you and stroked your cheek with his thumb before wiping away the tears from your eyes.

"Breath, okay?" You inhaled and exhaled through your mouth and nose till you finally calmed down and hugged up into Yushiro who didn't care that you were soaking wet.

Before you and Sanemi started dating, you told him about your past job in working at the Red Light District

Of course, he was a bit upset before grew to understand why you worked there

When the two of you did start dating he knew nothing about your breakdowns and panic attacks till he caught you in the middle of one

You were violently scrubbing at your skin with a cloth while mumbling incoherent words which freak Sanemi out a bit.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asked and grabbed your wrist that was holding the cloth. "Please...don't touch me..." You squeaked out with heavy tears in your eyes.

Sanemi was beyond confused yet he was also concerned about you. "Did something happen? Did someone say something to you?" He questioned and you only shook your head and wiped away tears from your eyes.

"Tell me, you can tell him anything.." He said softly and you sniffled a bit. "I feel dirty... That place made me feel disgusting.." You mumbled in between sniffles. Sanemi's eyes had widened a little bit before they softened.

"You're not disgusting or dirty. Don't let those thoughts get to you." Sanemi said and pecked your lips as he placed his other hand on your cheek.

"I'm not?" "You're not." He eventually got you to calm down over some tea and snakes which you were grateful for.

Genya never questioned you about why you were working at the red light district

He knew there was a line that he shouldn't cross when it comes to that

Since the begging of your relationship he knew how you felt about your own body at times especially when memories of the past would randomly come in

He's noticed a couple changes in your behavior here and there.

You would instantly wash your hands after touching anything, even if it was clean. You'd even change the sheets on your beds after one night. So eventually he confronted you about it.

"Hey Y/n?" Genya said and you hummed as you washed a couple dishes. "Why do you always change the bed sheets everyday when you wake up? I'm curious." He asked and he noticed you had perked up a bit and stopped scrubbing a plate.

"Well... I don't want you getting covered with my filth...that's all." You said and resumed cleaning the dishes. "But you're the cleanest person I know, you aren't dirty." He said before walking up behind you and placed his face in the crook of your neck.

"You're not lying, right?" You asked him and moved your head away a little bit so he wouldn't touch your skin.

"I'm not lying, I'd never lie to you." He said and this calmed your nerves a bit so you moved your head back. "Thank you.." You whispered and gave a kiss to his forehead.

Rengoku knew about your history with the red light district but never cared about it since you left long ago

He would help you with your breakdowns if he was near to help reassure you of anything

But the only thing he kind of didn't like was how you bashed yourself during intimacy

You looked up at Rengoku who hovered over you with a gentle and loving look as he held your hands, his fingers intertwined with yours.

Tears had quickly filled up your eyes startling Rengoku who quickly got off of you.

"What's wrong Y/n? Did I hurt you?" Rengoku asked, kind of panicked. "I'm sorry..!" You crooked out and he cocked his head to the side a bit.

"For what?" "Because of me I can only remember those stupid thoughts from the red light district so we can't even have sex.." You said and rubbed tears from your eyes. "Oh Y/n.." Rengoku sighed with a soft smile.

"It's alright, if you don't want to do it we don't have to. I never want to make you uncomfortable or have memories like that." He said and cupped your cheeks with his hands and kissed your forehead.

"Are you sure?" "I'm always sure. Now, what do you wish to do my love?" He asked and you thought about it for a bit.

"Can we...take a walk?" You asked softly and he quickly perked up. "Of course! I love walks!" Rengoku chirped making you giggle.

You were so thankful to have someone like Rengoku who could understand you feelings, it meant the world to you.

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st4rboyhere · 2 years

Note

Ive never requested anything but could i get a steve harrington x male reader where this takes place after that whole little party scene in season 1 steve and y/n go upstairs and do the yenno(steve uses the petnames pretty boy,beautiful

A/N: HOLY SHIT BRO I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT HAVING SEX WITH SEASON ONE STEVE

Thank you for the request 🫶

Dive in

You ran your fingers through your hair, moving it to the side of to get a better look at the man infront of you to say your goodbyes.

You were already soaking wet and didn’t want to continue to pour water on his floor so you quickly waved your hand at his friends, watching as they flirted with each other to another room, shutting the door.

He had already said bye to you and went upstairs, but as you gathered your stuff to go to the bathroom, Steve putting a hand on your shoulder which almost made you scream if it hadn’t been so gentle.

“Do you want to change in my room?”

You looked behind you, making eye contact with Steve.

He instantly looked away, fidgeting with fingers while staring at the floor, awaiting your response.

“Uh, yeah sure man, if you ok with it.”

He mumbled something to himself along the lines of a yes or of course, a small but noticeable smile forming on his face as he led you up the stairs to his room.

> <

Steve had left the room while you got dressed which you hoped he wouldn’t.

You and Steve were friends—best to clarify and basically unseparateable since the first day you met in elementary.

But for some reason that you couldn’t seem to figure out he had been avoiding you with no reason.

This has been the first time in weeks that you’ve been at Steve’s house and that’s only cause Tommy told you about the small get together.

And the whole time you were here Steve seemed nervous, he didn’t talk to you as much, look you in the eye or even acknowledge your existence.

You felt your face get hot and your eyes water, but you held it when Steve walked into the room. You gave his a soft smile, pulling your pants up to your knees.

He sat down on his bed, still ignoring you. His attention drawn to the roof.

Bite your tongue.

“Steve, is everything ok?” You asked.

Dammit.

“What? Yeah everything’s ok, I mean besides Tommy and Carol fucking on my parents bed,” he replied. You laughed a little, finally making him smile.

He laid down against the mattress on his back sighing.

“We haven’t talked in a while,” you say, looking at him. He doesn’t reply, still staring at the roof.

“Is something on your mind? Wait wait I think I know!”

You sat on the bed, the sheets ruffling around while you position yourself to face him. “You have a crush.” You grinned.

His face flushed and he looked away from you, facing the wall.

“Come on, tell me who the lucky girl is Steve,” you teased, poking his cheek.

He gave you a nervous grin and looked away, lips parting to say something but closing shut soon after. You smiled at him, getting off of his bed to finish getting dressed.

“It’s you,” he whispered the moment you turned around.

It was loud enough for you to hear him, your head snapping towards him. He looked down when he realized what he just said, and of course the first time he admits his feelings outloud is while your basically undressed.

He felt so embarrassed.

You try to process what he just said, mouth slightly agape as you fumbled with the zipper of your jeans, the main thing on your mind was to get out of there as soon as possible before this got more awkward.

“G-guess that’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” You said, not sure if you were questioning him or trying to reason with yourself.

You threw you shirt over your head, walking over to his bedroom door backwards, looking him in the eyes.

He had a pillow in between his legs, the lower half of his face covered by it. You noticed how his eyebrows quivered and you felt bad.

You liked Steve, you loved him a lot but you weren’t sure if you were ready to have a relationship yet, especially when you already knew how people would have viewed you two together.

It suited you better to make sketches of you two together then go along with it, but still it was clear that—

“We should talk about this,” you muttered, letting go of the door knob. His eyes lit up, following you as you made you way back to his bed, sitting next to him again.

The two of you sat their for a while, neither of you knowing exactly what to say. “D-do you like me back?” He asked shyly.

You didn’t know how to respond, fiddling with your fingers and looking down to the floor. “Uh yeah..I do,” you replied, still not looking at him.

You froze when his fingers brushed against yours to stop your playing, slowly wrapping around your hand.

Both of you turned quiet again, squeezing each other’s hands.

Steve’s palm was sweaty and you were sure if you didn’t girl it tight enough it was sure to fall of your hand, but it was also cold, like if you kept holding it you would get frostbite.

You turned around to look at him, not expecting him to be mer inches away from your face, his lips practically touching yours.

Without a second thought you kissed him, moaning softly into his mouth when he took advantage of your parted lips and stuck his tongue inside, rubbing against yours.

“Fuck your so pretty,” he said against your lips.

You let go of his hand, grabbing onto his shoulder so you didn’t fall backwards.

Steve’s arm snaked around your waist pulling you in closer to savor the taste as if he thought he would never be able to kiss you again.

When the two of you parted you found yourself on top of Steve, his hard on pressing against your ass.

He gave you a grin before settling you down on the floor, his crotch facing you.

“Help me out please?”

> <

It started out sloppy which Steve didn’t mind at all, the fact that his dick was even down your throat was enough to make him cum but soon you started to start a pace, his hips bucking along with it.

“God you look so beautiful,” he whined, hand finding the way to the back of your head, tangling itself in your hair as Steve started to fuck your mouth.

He pulled out the second he came, taking your hand to Jack him off ass he rid out his high, his seed spluttering out of his slit and onto your lips, some dribbling down your chin.

Steve tapped his tip on your lips, letting you suck on his tip while his dick turned soft again.

“COULD YOU GUYS BE ANY LOUDER?” Tommy shouted from downstairs.

#smut #dom steve harrington #steve harrington #steve x male reader smut #Steve Harrington x male reader smut #steve x male reader

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prettyblondguys · 1 year

Text

Little Red Riding Hood pt 2

Warnings: mentions of choking, drugging, Minors DNI, it's John so he's a warning in and of himself lol, one scene has a gun in it, I'll proofread when Hell freezes over.

This takes place the next day!

They're sure to lure someone bad

His eyelids feel heavy as he opens them, unfocused as they take in his surroundings. How did I get here? John thinks to himself, a stuffed up feeling in his head, mouth dry as the desert. Taking a deep breath, the realization that his arms are tied behind his back causes his memories to come flooding back. The woman, her house, the fucking tea. Dread creeps up John's spine as he pulls against the binds keeping him secured tightly to a metal folding chair, ankles tied against the chair legs. A panicked gasp escapes him as the fear sets in, just now noticing that he's in a basement, remodeled into some dingy little bedroom with unfinished wooden shelves lining the walls and storage boxes piled in the corners. He swivels his head around until it lands on an air mattress to his right, made up with a fuzzy pink duvet and pillows. The woman sits on the edge of the mattress, knees pulled to her chest, smiling up at him like she just won the lottery. Oh god. "I was wondering when you'd wake up," she leans forward, crawling until she sits beside him, ignoring the way he jerks when she places a hand on his knee, "are you thirsty? Hungry? Dinners not for a little while, but I could make you a snack if you'd like?" John can't do anything but stare at her, unable to fully comprehend what's going on, feeling uneasy with this role-reversal. She's looking up at him with her brows raised, awaiting his reply with a patient smile. "I.." He croaks out, stopping to clear his throat. The woman quickly stands up and walks towards a small foldout table where a pitcher of ice water sits. She pours water into a cup, ice chips rattling against the plastic, and walks back to John. "Here," she says, raising the cup to his lips, "it's ok." John thinks for a minute, unsure whether she could've put something in the water. I'm already down here. He leans forward, letting her place the lip of the cup against his mouth, slowly raising it until he could take a sip. "There," the woman smiles, sitting down, this time in between his legs, the cup clasped with both hands, "are you hungry?"

"Why are you doing this?" She lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes playfully at his inquiry. "You can't answer a question with a question, silly. But, to answer yours," she looks up at him adoringingly, "I couldn't help myself. You're just so...god, pretty doesn't describe it. You're beautiful, from the first time I saw you, I knew. I just had to have you." Oh god. Looking around the room, with its bed and table, small dresser pushed against the wall and shelves lined with clutter, it all dawns on him. "Oh dear God, how long have you been following me?" Confusion clouds the woman's face, following his line of sight to where it landed on the door, fitted with a key lock on either side. "Oh, oh no, no no," she starts, placing a hand on his leg, "I didn't plan this, the people who lived here before remodeled the basement, the lock is just good luck. I only thought of it yesterday. If I had had more time I would've made it nicer for you. Soft carpet, warm lighting, and a big fluffy bed with as many pillows as you could possibly want. All I could manage in time were the sheets and blanket. But it's okay, you won't be staying down here very long."

"How...how long?" John asks, trying to keep his voice even. The woman hums and stands up, cocking her head to the side, eyes boring into his. "Until I'm sure that you'll be good."

She sits on the mattress, arms resting on her crossed legs, leaning over a paperback. John lets his eyes roam over her, taking in the folds of her stomach as she leans forward, pink sundress snug against her, the soft outline of her jaw and the way her brows furrow, engrossed by whatever it is she's reading. She'd be easy for him to overpower, if he could find a way to get untied. Think. Think. Think.

"What are you reading?"

His sudden interest surprises and delights her, a smile quickly adorning her face. She lifts up the book towards him, a woman in a torn dress is embraced by a mysterious man in black, his mouth on her neck, hers open in either ecstasy or pain.

"Carnal Creatures," says the woman on the mattress, suddenly avoiding his eyes as a blush creeps its way to her chubby cheeks, "kind of like...sexy Dracula."

"Is it..is it any good?" He asks, he can pretend to be interested, to care about her interests, he knows how to do that.

"Yeah," she nods, looking down at the book in her hands, "it's a bit too, you know." John tilts his head in feign curiosity, the way he knows women like. "You know…" she continues, seeming embarrassed, "too smutty. Not enough romance." He lets out a breathy laugh and nods, getting the swing of things. "That's how it all is, these days." The woman looks up at him, hanging on his every word like a line from her book. "Books, movies, even music," he smiles, trying to seem boyishly uncomfortable at the subject, "they all focus on the physical, on..on the sex, and less on - Well, sometimes even completely leaving out - the romance. The softness, which, personally," she's eating it up "I think is the best part." He looks at her for one second, two seconds, three seconds so it seems like he's lingering and then.. BEEP BEEP BEEP

A timer goes off somewhere upstairs, interrupting John's play, and the woman stands up, discarding the book on the mattress. "Dinners ready," she says, smoothing her dress down, "I'll be right back." She walks up the few steps and disappears into the house, leaving John alone with his thoughts.

If I can hear something in the house, then someone in the house would be able to hear me. The hope that thought springs up is quickly subdued when he remembers something she'd said earlier, "I never get guests," and he believes her.

She comes back carrying two platters of food and sets them on the foldout table, before going back and forth bringing plates, glasses, and silverware. She lays it all out and takes hold of the table, pulling it close to John before setting a chair on the other side, across from him. She pours them both water before serving, scooping mashed potatoes and green beans onto his plate, and placing a slice of meatloaf last.

"Here," she says, leaning down behind him. He feels the bonds loosen around his wrists as her fingers make quick work of them, before walking back to her chair and sitting down, watching as he brings his hands forward and rubs them with a wince. "Sorry," she says quietly, a look of remorse on her usually smiling face, "there's really no way around it." She reaches both her hands towards him, palms up, expectantly. Slowly, he obliges her, feeling uneasy as she closes her eyes.

"Dear Lord, we thank you for this meal,"

You've got to be kidding me

"may it sustain and nourish us."

She's insane

"Thank you for all of the ways you provide for us, housing and health, and kind friends."

She's fucking insane

"Help us to always be grateful for Your many blessings. In the name of Your son, Jesus Christ,"

Jesus Christ

"Amen."

……………..

She's looking at him, a kind smile tugging at her lips, "John?"

"Hm? Oh, A..Amen." He stutters out, hands growing sweaty in hers before she lets go, picking up her fork and starting to eat. He does the same.

They eat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, her eyes occasionally flickering up to his as he pretends not to notice, figuring out if he'd have a chance to get free now that his hands were, but the ropes around his legs are still just as tight, and he fears angering her. "So," her voice startles him more than he'd like to admit, "tell me about yourself." I am most definitely not going to do that. "Any family close by?" Swallowing slowly, John tries to decide on a direction to take, "Yes, a brother...who lives nearby." He lies, wanting her to think people would miss him, notice his absence and do something about it. When in reality, John knew that no one would know, no one would worry about him, try to find him. He was easy prey. Just like the women he used to play predator to.

"We were..we were actually supposed to meet today, get together and…" He trails off, watches as a grin spreads across her face, eyes crinkling.

"You, John Tyler, are a bad liar." She laughs, thankfully finding his lies endearing more than angering. No, I'm not. He knew how to lie, he was GOOD at it, at making women believe whatever he wanted them to believe, and if this were any other situation, she'd be nodding along to every little thread he weaved for her. But she unnerved him, she took away that thing that made him able to perform, to string people along. She took away his ability to lie, making him feel exposed.

"That's okay though," she says after a pause, taking a sip of water before pushing her plate away, "we have plenty of time to get to know each other. Do you like music?" She pulls out her phone and taps away at it, locking the screen and tossing it on the mattress after it begins playing, soft pop ballads floating through the speaker. She stands up and clears their plates, taking them in the house and returning with two saucers and a round platter, setting it down in front of him.

My cheesecake.

"My cheesecake." John eyes it, remembering how good that day had been, how good he had felt, how normal. Right up until she came along.

"I didn't want it to go bad," she says, cutting him a slice, "so I brought it in. You don't mind, do you?" She looks at his blank face, genuinely asking if he minded, as if that's more impolite than, say, kidnapping someone. "No, no I just..thank you." He replies, picking at it with his fork while a love song wails on her phone, watching as she raises her fork, the tines sliding between her plump lips. Stop it, John tells himself, now is not the time.

"Ugh," the woman suddenly exclaims with a look of disgust, "I hate this song." John didn't recognize it, some irritating beat with a guy talking about a woman (presumably his girlfriend?) stripping "that down" for him. "It's gross. Hey Siri," her phone chimes as the digital assistant powers up, and as much as he hates it, he has to agree with her, it was gross. "skip this song."

A slower, more romantic one plays instead, "That's better."

The lyrics strike John as darkly ironic,

I will follow you,

follow you wherever you may go.

There isn't an ocean too deep,

a mountain so high it can keep me away.

"I need to use the bathroom."

John was done playing her game, sitting captive and helpless, she had no idea who he was, what he was capable of. He just needed out of these binds.

The woman stands behind him untying his hands, and John notices she's taking longer than she had before. Arms finally free, he brings them forward, massaging his wrists when she places her hands softly on his shoulders,

"I need you to not try anything, okay?" Her words are steady and sure, like she'd been going over them in her head. John nods, knowing she won't be able to stop him. Fingers dig into his shoulders painfully as her grip tightens. "I mean it, John. I've worked very hard on this."

"I promise." His thoughts race, he needs to run as soon as he's able to, but part of him wants to stay, watch as she realizes how big of a mistake she's made, trapping herself in here with him instead of the other way around. That small part of him he has tried so very hard to bury wants to crawl out of the grave, wants to grab hold of her arms and shove her against the wall, wrap his fingers around her pretty neck and watch as her supple chest heaves, gasping for air. He wants to see the fear in her eyes when she's thrown onto the mattress, wants to hear her scream apologies and futile promises as he holds her down.

He wants her to regret letting him into her house.

I am in control of my thoughts, they do not control me. I am in control of my thoughts, they do not control me. I am in control of my thoughts, they do not control me.

She kneels down to untie his legs, hands pausing at the last knot before she eventually relents. John had already made up his mind by then, unwilling to fall back into the man he used to be, so as soon as he feels the rope go slack he's up, bolting towards the door. A click stops him dead in his tracks, hand midair as he had been reaching for the door, holding his breath as he looks over his shoulder, shit. The woman holds a small revolver in her hands, pointed directly at his back as she looks at him disappointedly.

"You promised, John." She sighs, motioning with her head for him to make his way back to the chair, and for a moment he wonders if he could make it to the door before she pulls the trigger, and who knows if she's ever shot the damn thing before. She might miss me completely.

"Since I was ten," the woman says, somehow seeming to guess what he was thinking, "twice a week at the range. Daddy thought a girl should be able to protect herself." And does daddy know what you're using those skills for now? Nevertheless, John slowly walks back over to the chair and sits down. "Tie your legs, we'll leave your arms for now." Begrudgingly he complies, trying to make them less tight than before, but she notices and makes him do it again.

He sits up once he's finished, watching as the woman lowers the gun, looking at him with a displeased pout.

"I...I still have to use the bathroom," he mutters. The woman turns and walks up the steps, returning a few minutes later with a metal bucket. Oh come on.

"You'll have to use this since you wouldn't be good for me."

Authors Note: HI! Sorry it took me so long, I got distracted by the pretty blond men on HOTD lol. Anyways. I really like the concept of John being unnerved when faced with someone who's like him, like seeing his crazy-ness mirrored in her freaks him out, not realizing they're the same lol. Like its okay for him, but not others. ALSO i love this insane woman so much.

Divider credit goes to the lovely @v6que !!

#john tyler #tell me your secrets #hamish linklater #flashing gif #plus size reader #evil women my beloved #she's basically just modern day female Freddie Clegg #And I love her for it #also posted on ao3

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oh-puffle-cakes19 · 2 years

Text

The Prince - part 1

Paring - Prince Tom Holland x Maiden Reader

Summary - Prince Tom Holland goes into a secret relationship with a Maiden, getting caught up in between his love rather than his duties as a Prince.

Warnings - mentions of sexual, seductive content. But other than that, it’s fluff.

A/N - This is the first chapter of my series, called The Prince. I improved it to make it better! First time, I’ve tempted to write it and post it was not that good. But I am more please after the changes of this series. (Adding and changing parts of the story) hope you enjoy!

Word count - 1.4K

High expectations as being a Prince is all they ever say. They do not discuss details such as love or having a personal life, other than your status.

Being from the royal family, especially a Prince is a high graceful place to be but it’s tiring and hard too. Especially, having a particular maid you are in love with.

Tom wrapped around his bed sheets as a random maid comes in to run him a bath, and get his clothes ready. His eyes wonder a bit to far on this maid. Smiling at himself because of your beauty.

He watches Your small, soft hands pour the jug full of warm water into the fairly, large tube. Pouring until the bath is full. His body only being covered with boxers and thin sheets.

He got up, walking towards you. You didn’t notice as you was filling up the bath. He hasn’t notice you before so you must be a new staff member. Wrapping arms around your waist, startles you.

“Careful, love, you may trip on the wet surface.” Tom tells, smirking at your flustered face. He puts a towel on the floor to dry the area.

“Your grace, you should not be touching me like that, that could be seen as inappropriate.” You collected yourself, standing up straight speaking up firmly.

Tom don’t listen to your ‘silly’ words as he takes your hand and kisses it. “My, my, your so sweet but I think a little flirt isn’t hurting anyone.” Winking at you.

“You are seeming to be cocky and impatient my Prince, will you please get in your bath.” You answer back, tapping your foot on the hard wooden floor.

“Feisty I like it, for a maid that is.” Tom steps into the bath with no clothes on now, you turned around when he took them off. “Are you going to stay?” Tom smirks.

“What? Do I have to wash you now?” You sort of scoffed. Showing shock that he actually is taking a liking or an interest in you. “Do you tell this to all your maids?” You asked, curiously.

“No, Darling, but for you yes because you feel different. The other maids are not like you, they are not you.” Tom continues “As for the first question, you can company me if you like,” Tom asks, generally wanting you to stay and join him.

“Are you sure? I’m a maid, I shouldn’t be bathing with a Prince.” You questioned once more, nervous at being caught. Even worse being punished for your sinful acts.

Tom nods, grabbing your hand gently into his own. He stands up turning you around, pressing your back into his naked, wet chest. “Darling, I’m sure please join your Prince,” he whispers, seductively. Hands trailing on your neck, shoulders and jaw line. Kissing your neck and cheek with such passion.

You get shivers as he gives you close contact. Your breathe hitches as he touches you in all the right places. You feel him kiss your cheek once more, slightly biting your neck. “Yes, I will bath with you but we will not do anything too crazy.” You agreed with on your conditions.

He smiles, “can I take off your clothes, sweetheart.” He asked, of your consent. “Yes, please.” You reply, smiling.

He un-buttons your maid outfit, then pulls the strings undone on your corset. Making them fall down on the floor. You step out of them, getting into the bath with Tom’s help making sure you don’t slip. Tom guides you to sit down against his toned, ripped chest. Wrapping his arms around your waist. Nozzle his face into your shoulder.

“comfy,” Tom whispers into your shoulder. “Mmhm,” you nod. The waters warm and relaxing, especially that the young Prince is cuddling you against him.

“Your so absolutely gorgeous, sweetheart!” He kisses you more, making you feel butterflies.

“You like this don’t you Darling?” Tom chuckles, you nodded, too shy to actually use words.

“Don’t worry, me too love,” Tom reply’s.

That’s how it started, you didn’t intend to constantly give in to him. His characteristics and naturally, his nature drew you in!

Making you sort of vulnerable, at his calling. You did like him, in-fluctuated with him even. You could tell that Tom was giving the same feelings back towards you. He didn’t care about your status because it was obvious that he was in love!

Tom made it his priority to make time with and for you. secretly, being such a sweetheart to you, even though to everyone else your just a poor, helpless, ragged maid. He’s a handsome, powerful, royal prince. To Tom, you eventually became his everything over time.

Dusting the window ledges in one of the spiral towers, looking outside to the beautiful view. You felt arms snaking around you “Your more beautiful, My love,” Tom insisted to you smiling. “Tom, shh, your handsome too, but what are you doing here?” You giggle, turning around to face him.

“I am suppose to be at my practice with my brothers but I snuck off to get a kiss from my favourite and only lady.” He winks at you, kissing you on the lips passionately. You kiss him back giggling more. “You have to be quiet love, I know they are looking for me.” Tom whispers into your ear. Cupping your cheeks and chin with his large, soft hands to go back at Kissing your lips gently, again. Closing your eyes to enjoy it more, kissing back just as passionately as he is.

He secretly, loves making out with you when he has duties to For Fill. Gladly, he always mange’s to sneak off somewhere without them knowing where he has gone.

Loving the taste of cherries and berries on his soft, tender lips even the hint of that sweet summer blue lagoon wine he loves so much to drink with you. He pulls you closer, grabbing on your bum pulling himself more on you.

Tongues clashing, swirling around until you can no longer breathe air, just each other.

Finally pulling apart, hugging one another. “I think you should go back now,” you smile, sadly.

Both wrapped up around each other, feeling content into each other’s embrace.

Tom nods, “yes, me too, but I really don’t want to leave.” Kissing you again.

You both hear guards running along the hallways, sighing. Knowing that it didn’t last long.

“Well, love my time to leave before they catch us or me.” Tom gives a sorrow look, holding your hands kissing your cheek. You nod, “bye, Tommy.” You kiss him. “Bye, sweetheart.” He kisses you. Going back down the stairs.

You go up the stairs to wash more windows, smiling as you do so.

Other times are much quicker or longer than the last.

You sneak into his chambers together, laying on his soft, silk sheets. He trips not so gracefully landing on the bed, you giggle.

“Shh” Tom makes grabby hands towards you. Walking over to go into the bed. Much bigger and comforter than yours. Sometimes having to remind yourself that your only a maid, you are always grateful for experiencing love and these opportunities with him.

Cuddling up to him, stroking his head full of brown, soft, curly locks. He tilts his head back groaning at the sensation of how your touch feels on the most simple part of him. He always thinks he’s so grateful and lucky to his gods to have you in his life. Not those wanna be princesses. But someone, who is collected and got amazing personality. Someone, who wants REALLY him for him too.

He does the same for you, stroking at your strands of hair. Running like silk through his finger tips, he massages your scalp in his palms. You sigh in pleasure. Tom slowly kisses you, savouring the sweet taste of your tongue. holding your head close to his. Making out on his bed is so wonderful.

“Are you tired Darling?” Tom asked, kissing your forehead. You nodded, closing your eyes a bit.

“Go to sleep, My love,” Tom insists, tucking you in with him under the covers, making sure your comfortable and cuddled enough to fall asleep.

“Goodnight, love you so much My Future Queen,” Tom whispers, in your ear lovingly. Kissing you softly on your delightful lips.

Smiling, Those sweet words made it to your tummy (very quick) giving you butterflies.

“Goodnight, love you so much too My Future King,” you whisper, back into your ear softly. Giving him a gentle kiss on his sweet lips.

Falling into a peaceful slumber together.

#tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fandom #tom holland #princetomholland #princess royal #prince and princess #maidreader #london #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #true love #romantic #romance #love #lovers #sweetness #tom holland x you

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ageofbarbarians · 2 years

Text

Pancakes for Two // S.F.K

AgeOfBarbarians

Summary: After a long night out partying with the boys Sammy and you enjoy breakfast together and have a lazy day afterwards((:

Warnings: Mentions of Sex, Choking, and Degradation, other than that just fluff

Word Count: 2.3k

MASTERLIST

You groaned as you heard the birds chirping through the window and rays of sunlight came in despite the curtains blocking them out. Your head began to pound and you covered it with a pillow. You moved your arm, realizing the space next to you was empty. You opened your eyes slightly and looked at the spot next to you where Sam typically laid. You could see the exact place where he slept from the slight divets in the mattress and the hills across the sheets.

You sat up and rubbed your eyes, trying to adjust to the light in the room. The comforter fell off your shoulders, leaving your bare chest exposed. You removed the blanket from your legs and swung them over the side of the bed, immediately feeling the ache between your legs from the night before. You noticed two Advil with a glass of water as well as a note on your bedside table.

For the hangover xx Sammy

Walking into the bathroom and flipping on the light, you looked at your appearance in the mirror and your eyes widened at the lilac marks covering your body. You gently dragged your fingers across the marks even though they didn’t hurt. You shook your head as thoughts from last night flooded your mind, and you left the bathroom, turning off the light on your way out. You went to the closet and pulled out one of Sam’s band t-shirts and slipped it over your head. You opened the bedroom door and you were immediately greeted with the sound of one of Sam’s records playing lowly downstairs.

You made your way downstairs and the further down the steps you went, the more you could smell the coffee brewing and the louder the music got. You heard Sam humming softly as he cooked breakfast on the stove, his back turned towards you. You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning your head against his back.

“Good morning, angel.” Sam greeted. You hummed at your nickname and loosened your grip around him. He turned and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and you hopped up onto the counter watching him cook. Sam reached into the cabinet and grabbed your favorite coffee mug before pouring you a cup. He grabbed the creamer from the fridge and handed it to you so you could determine how much you wanted.

“Thank you. What’re you making?” You looked at all of the ingredients but couldn’t quite figure out what he was cooking. Sam sat your mug next to you as you poured your creamer and took it from you when you were finished to put it back in the fridge. You held the warm mug between your hands and lightly swung your feet back and forth.

“These vegan apple pancakes? I don’t know, I found it on Pinterest honestly.” He laughed and turned back to the stove to flip one of the pancakes. He already had a small stack sitting on a plate but there was still a bit of batter left.

“They smell amazing,” You complimented and took a sip of your coffee. You closed your eyes and smiled at the taste that washed over your tastebuds. You had perfected the way you made your coffee, the perfect amount of coffee to creamer ratio. Just enough to still had the bold rich flavor but enough to where it wasn’t overpowering.

“How are you feeling? From last night?” Sam questioned softly. You shifted slightly, still able to feel the ache from him. Thoughts began to flood your mind and the reminder was enough to make you want to do it all over again.

“M’okay. Sore mainly and it looks like I got into a fight but with my chest,” You chuckled at the number of marks Sam left on you.

“Honestly, I could say the same. My back is kind of torn up,” You could hear the smile in his voice and the thought made you blush.

Sam’s brothers as well as Danny had thrown a party last night and the two of you got pretty wasted. From the alcohol that flooded both of your senses, the two of you were a little crazier than you normally were. The sex was great, fantastic in fact, but you could feel the after-effects of it for sure. There was lots of degrading name calling, edging, multiple climaxes, accidentally making Sam’s back bleed, and at one point you had even choked him but that didn’t end so well for you. You did, however, find out that he wasn’t opposed to being choked which was new to the both of you.

“I’m sorry, do you need me to put anything on it?” You asked. Sam shook his head as he took the last pancake off the pan and sat it on the plate. He brought the stack over to the table and sat it in the middle along with some syrup.

“Can you grab the bowl of fruit out of the fridge please?” Sam asked. You hopped off the counter and opened the fridge to grab the clear glass bowl. You sat the bowl next to the plate of pancakes as Sam sat out plates for the both of you as well as some silverware. He sat across from you at the small table and grabbed a couple of the pancakes for himself. You picked at some fruit from the bowl, not even bothering to put it on your plate.

“Do you want to do anything today?” Sam asked as he swallowed a bite of his pancakes. You grabbed two before cutting into them with the side of your fork. You stabbed the pieces and brought them to your mouth before realizing you didn’t even put any syrup on them. You took a bite anyway, deciding if they even needed syrup.

“Firstly, these are fucking amazing. Secondly, no I don’t. I’m hungover and I would really like to just spend the day with you.” You responded with a slight mouthful of food. Sam smiled at your reaction to his cooking and nodded his head in agreement to not do anything.

The two of you sat in silence for the majority of breakfast, just enjoying each other’s company but mainly not talking so neither of your heads throbbed. You finished your pancakes and went in to get more fruit. You looked at Sam who was eyeing you with his coffee cup to his lips. You still grabbed some of the fruit anyway and rubbed his ankle with your foot under the table.

As you both finished your food you grabbed both of your plates, setting them in the sink before turning on the water to start the dishes. Sam quickly cleaned up his mess and wrapped his slender arms around your waist, applying a kiss to the top of your head. You relaxed under his touch as you felt the warmth of his body come through your shirt.

“Why don’t you leave those for later baby?” He mumbled against your head. You turned to look at him and shook your head.

“If we don’t do them now they’ll never get done.” You continue to wash the various items in the sink but Sam reached over you and turned the water off.

“I’ll do them later, I promise, just come lay with me.” Sam pulled you away from the sink and began to lead you towards the living room. He laid on the couch and spread his arms for you to come to lay on top of him. You rested your head against his bare chest and listened to the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat. The heat of his body along with the gentle sound was enough to lull you back to sleep.

Sammy grabbed the remote from the arm of the couch and turned it on. He scrolled through Netflix trying to find something for the two of you to watch before he just decided to put on one of your rewatched shows. You closed your eyes as he began to lightly drag his fingers along your back.

“Did you have fun last night, angel?” Sam asked quietly. You hummed and smiled against his chest.

“Which part?” You questioned and Sam laughed lightly. You could feel the vibration from his chest and you hugged him tighter.

“The party mainly, but I guess all of it.” His hand moved from your back to your head as he started scratching your head gently.

“I had a lot of fun. I love partying with the boys, it’s always an adventure with them. When we got home was the best though.” You admitted softly, a blush arising on your cheeks.

“Honestly, if we didn’t leave when we did I probably would’ve fucked you somewhere in the house.” Sam grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back. You whined at his action and you could feel the heat between your legs growing.

“Sammy,” You whimpered and you could feel his chest vibrate from a low chuckle.

“I love the way you scream my name, the way you beg for me, the way you cum for me,” He applied a kiss to the top of your head before letting your hair go and rubbing your head like he was before, acting as nothing ever happened.

“You’re evil,” you mumbled into his neck as you adjusted your legs.

“Awe, poor baby getting all worked up?” He teased and you could hear the cockiness in his voice. You groaned and he laughed again.

“You’re terrible,” You sighed and turned your head toward the tv, trying your hardest to focus on the show.

“Last I recalled I was fucking amazing,” Sam shrugged as he repeated your words from the night before. You laughed as you smacked his chest and he laughed with you. Your laughter died down and you went back to relaxing with him. His hand had stopped moving but it still rested on the top of your head.

Your thoughts began to wonder about what you were going to do when he was gone on tour again and the thought just made you sad. You still had so much time with him, but never enough. You missed being able to spend every night with him, waking up with him in the morning, the sounds of him playing the piano to pass time when you slept in late, the list goes on. You enjoyed Sam’s company like no other, but you cherished it so much more when he was going to leave soon.

You only had a month left until the first leg of the tour started and you knew it was going to be hell. Your friends hung out with you a lot during this time, but it wasn’t the same as Sammy being home with you. If you could you would just never have him leave but you knew that was selfish. You wondered if there was a chance you could tour with him this time around but you didn’t want to get your hopes up.

“What’s going through that pretty little head of yours?” Sam questioned. You shook your head and squeezed him tighter, not wanting to even talk about what was going through your mind.

“Angel?” He questioned again and you sighed.

“I know we still have time, but I just don’t want you to leave,” You admitted quietly. Sam didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes before he tapped your back, telling you to get up.

You stood up and Sam went over to his stack of records before he put the one that was playing earlier this morning away and switched it with a new one. He sat the black vinyl in its designated spot before gently setting the needle on top. The sounds of a light crackle come through the speakers before So What by Miles Davis begin to play. You could recognize the song almost immediately from the few notes that began to play. Sam grabbed one of your hands while the other sat on your waste. He pulled you closer to his chest and began a steady sway with you. The sounds of the piano and the trumpet rang through your ears and you couldn't help but melt into Sam's chest.

Sam hummed lightly to the song, despite there being any lyrics. This was one of his favorite albums and you knew he would dance with you at any chance he got. It was rare that you and Sam had a moment like that but you loved when you did. Not a thought in the world, just letting the music surround the both of you as danced together, enjoying each other's company.

Sam stepped away from you before he began to pull you back in, letting you spin into his arms. A series of giggles escaped your lips as you collided with him again. Your back was pushed against Sam's chest as both of his arms wrapped around you, continuing in a rhythmic sway. You leaned your head against him, just barely into the crook of his neck, and took a deep breath of his scent. You could smell the mixture of his natural musk mixed with the hints of his cologne that lingered from last night.

You turned back to face Sam as the song neared the end, seamlessly transitioning into the next. You looked up at him and sat both of your hands on his face gently. You observed his features, from the way his brows formed, the way his nose sloped, his cheekbones when he grits his teeth, his cupid's bow and how perfectly it fit his face, his jawline, all of him. You stared at his lips for a moment before you stood on the tip of your toes and connected your lips with his. The kiss was slow and soft yet you could feel every ounce of emotion that the two of you shared. You pulled away after a moment, eyes still closed as Sam leaned his head against the top of your forehead as he spoke.

"I love you to no end, Y/N,"

----

A glimpse of the night before will be posted soon (;

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lrialthewriter · 10 months

Text

Prologue: Oversleeping on the Big Day

Word count: 1,029

Links: Part Intro || Chapter 1 (tbc)

Additional links: Protagonist Introductions!

Sun shined through the window as a beeping alarm started to ring throughout the room. A groan can be heard through the thick sheets of blankets messily covering a young man. He slowly reached out for the alarm at his bedside cabinet and slapped its button, almost throwing it and a nearby pair of glasses off its places. His arm still rested on the bedside for a few seconds before he quickly sat up, his messy ginger hair and brown eyes shined as the sunlight hit him in the face.

"Ah my eyes!" He said quickly, stumbling out of his bed and walking up on his windows to cover it. He sighed in relief as he finally stood up properly and took his glasses from the bedside cabinet.

He looked at the clock, '8:00', while normally he would wake up two hours earlier, but he stayed up a bit too late for his liking. The fact that they would finally start attending university excited him. Still, he didn't like the fact that he let himself wake up this late.

"The only redeeming factor is the fact it's just orientation week right now," he sighed as he went to start making his bed, it's a habit he developed during his times at the orphanage.

After finishing up, he finally decided to undo his curtains and look at the view from his room, a sliding door leading to a decently-sized balcony. He is still taking in the fact that at one point he has nowhere to go, but now he's somewhere he might as well call a dream home. He smiled as he went to quickly go to the bathroom and get himself ready, excited for the events that may happen today. After a short while he came out of the bathroom, dressed in a plain yellow collared shirt, his signature brown cargo pants. Contemplating between style and comfort, he had chosen the former and wore a pair of simple brown loafers.

After he tried (and failed) to style his hair, he took his messenger bag on his study table that he had prepared last night. He checked the contents one last time, chucked his phone, charger and earphones in before walking out of his room. As soon as he opened his door a whiff of garlic scent could be smelled as he entered the living room.

"You stayed up too late last night?" Perlad turned to the open kitchen to see a taller male figure facing against him, cooking fried rice. "Got too excited I assume?" He added.

Perlad scratched his head and laughed a bit as he walked towards the kitchen counter to prepare the plates. "Yeah, sorry about that Said. I had told I was gonna have breakfast for today" Perlad answered as he went to start preparing hot water and putting loose tea in a pot. "Do you want lavender or just some green tea?"

"Green tea would do, you probably need the caffeine anyways."

"I'm not that tired, Saimin."

"Well you aren't fully awake either." Saimin shook his head as he finished cooking and plated up the rice as well as finally put the side dishes on the table. Shaking his head did end up loosening the hair tie he's using, this made him sigh as he went to take it out fully revealing his shoulder-length bluish light gray hair and retying his hair.

Perlad just noticed how his roommate had been fully dressed, as he wore his signature dark blue turtleneck with grey pants. He had also found himself staring at his amethyst pendulum dangling on his neck as he finished everything up. He had probably noticed him stare and snapped his fingers in front of his face.

"Per, the tea." Saimin said calmly, gesturing at the teapot that had finished steeping.

"R-right! Sorry!" Perlad immediately stood up and went to get the tea, making sure not to burn himself as he went to pour the tea for both of them.

The two went on to eat in silence, just enjoying the meal they had on-hand. That is until Perlad spoke up, smiling as he finished his tea, "So? Are you excited to actually see R.U.I?"

Saimin shrugged, unlike his friend he didn't give much energy, "Somewhat, we toured it but there's no students during that day, so it would be interesting to see how the school works." He noted as he remembered the tour two weeks ago, it was a vacation time for the students so there weren't any activities during the time.

Perlad gasped as he finished up his meal and picked up his plate as he went to clean himself up. "I still can't believe I ended up being a scholar for that school!" He exclaimed as he also recalled the tour, "It's so huge! It lives up to the stuff we heard about it a year ago!" He continued as he started to clean up the sink.

His friend chuckled a bit as he stood up and had put the remaining plates at the sink. "Well you did end up staying up late because of it, I'll go prepare my remaining stuff. Tell me when you are done" Saimin softly said, it seems like his friend's enthusiasm was somewhat infecting him, which is rare.

Saimin went back to his room as Perlad finished the dishes. They take turns on collective chores, which was something they have done a lot and have gotten a hand of just syncing each other with regards to tasks. After a while Perlad finished and Saimin walked out, now wearing his grey trench coat alongside his casual black backpack.

"Are you ready?" Saimin asked as he looked around as he did some last minute checks.

Perlad nodded, "Yeah! Let's go! We might be late for the orientation ceremony!" He said as he started to walk towards the door and wear his shoes.

Saimin shook his head, slightly amused by his impatient friend, "You are the one who woke up late" he mumbled as he also walked towards the door, by this point Perlad was almost out of the door.

"I heard that!"

"I know."

Links: Part Intro || Chapter 1 (tbc)

Additional links: Protagonist Introductions!

#RoVoices #P1Prlg #slice of life #comedy #they are silly #original story

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the-lost-girl-in-the-tardis · 8 months

Text

The thin lines between realities (not finished)

Pairing: N/A

Reader type: Gender neutral

Characters: The Doctor. Y/n

Song:

Warnings:

An: This is what "The thin lines between realities" was going to before I changed it lol. Have this hella old draft that I never finished. Maybe I will someday lol. I still have another I haven't finished.

The streets are full with people parting around you as they walk. They murmur and talk. Buried into phones and conversation. From some you catch snippets of music. All of it ranges from classical to rock.

All of it was off. The talking didn't seem to run in complete sentences or just. Make sense at all.

You touch your lips. Try to ground yourself. The world was a haze. At the moment you couldn't tell why. It seemed normal. With the usual sound of a busy street brimming with people during the lunch hour. You could hear car motors and far off music.

But the smell. Fast food wafting in the air. It was there but not. Every time you breathe in it was there. The fatty, salty smell of fries and greasy burgers. But. It left as quickly as it came. Like an imprint. There but not.

You turn on the spot.

Where are you? The street looked familiar. You squint. Try to make out the letters on the street sign but it's nothing more than a soft blur of black and green.

You blink. Something wet falls on you. People begin to leave the street. Holding your palm out you sigh. You don't remember rain in the forecast.

You stay in the center of the street. Eerily empty now as the rain begins to pour. Thick sheets of water spilling off the sides of roofs and large umbrellas.

You turn again.

Where are you?

You pat your pockets for your phone. Pull it out. Clicking the power button to turn your lock screen on you curse. The screen was to blurry to read.

Something wasn't right. It. God what was it?

You look up. See a man down the street from you. Maybe he could help? You call out and jog down the street.

"Hey. Can you tell me where I'm at? I think I might be lost?" Were you? You glance around again. The rain still fell. Was it always this heavy? The droplets of water that thick?

You look back to the man who looks just as lost as you were. He was dressed nicely. Had on a vest but no dress coat. White sleeves of his undershirt pulled over his elbows. There was a strange object in his hands. The tip of it blurred green as it hummed.

Why was he dressed like that? How was he not wet it was.

Raining?

The sky was clear. Warmth covered you.

The man ignores you and steps around you with the object held out in front of him. He waved it about like a magician with their wand.

You let out a gasping breath. Confused and slightly panicked.

"Excuse me? I really need." He cuts you off.

"Sorry but I'm busy. Like I told the last fellow." He turns towards you the light of his device bright and it shoots up an octave. "But you." He trails off and walks around you. The device still pointed at you. He mutters to himself and you find yourself backing away.

You glance to your left as movement catches in your peripheral. You could have sworn that the building was taller. And less green. The man hums next to you. Studying the device in his hand.

"But you're not like." He stops. Looks at you. "You've noticed that? The building? The rain?" You nod your head slowly. Things are beginning to fall into place. Slowly clicking together.

He watches you as you crouch down on your knees and place your plans on the road. You expected rough asphalt and warm blacktop but.

He beds down next to you. Places his hand on the road. "That's it." You stand up. Confused.

"Am I dreaming?" It didn't happen often that you had a lucid dream. When you did you had a habit of waking up too early to really do anything.

The man shakes his head. Then moved his hands in a wide gesture tossing his strange device between them. "Yes and no. I'm not sure. But you're the first that I've met to actually notice what's going on." He sighs. "I'm The Doctor. " You glance around then back to him.

"I'm Y/n. Doctor who?" You ask and the man chuckles.

"Just The Doctor. Or Doctor." He tosses the device again and you point at it.

"What's that?" He looks at it as if he just realized it was there.

"Oh? It's a sonic screwdriver. Although it doesn't really seem to be sonicing very well. It's been acting strange ever since I got here." You shake your head as he talks. The road beneath you shifts. Turns soft and green.

Grass. Meadow. Mountains on the horizon. For a moment you are confused. Here but not. What? Where?

You're pulled from your that's when the man called Just The Doctor places a hand on your arm.

"Stay with me now. Please. It's. Confusing here." You nod your head.

"What's going on? I. This isn't like any dream I've had before." The Doctor uses his sonic screwdriver.

"You know. I haven't taken a single step since I've come here. Yet the space around me keeps changing. First a golden field of grain. Then Spain before it was Spain." He rambles and you zone out.

#doctor who #eleventh doctor #11th doctor #doctor who fanfiction

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brighteststar707 · 2 years

Note

Hello! I see that you're open for request so I was wondering if you could do kissing in the rain with V? I've been following you for a while and I'm ABSOLUTELY in love with your writing style ♡ Thank you and have a good day!

Hi! Thank you anon, you're so sweet!

This feels like the perfect prompt for V, and I had a lot of fun writing it! I hope you enjoy <3

Requests are still open!

V - Kissing in the rain

There’s a playful side to Jihyun that you’ve been seeing more of lately. The side of him that teases you, that likes to sweep you up in his arms and kiss you till you squeal. The side of him that pulls you away from responsibilities and, without any of his previous hesitation, asks you to look at him, pay him attention. There’s a glint in his eyes that definitely wasn’t there before.

With the weather warming up, him pulling you out of the house to the garden becomes more common. Calling it a garden is a bit of an understatement, though. Your home is in the middle of the countryside, you’re surrounded by uninterrupted wildlife as far as the eye can see.

You don’t mind the distraction. On the contrary, the pleading in his eyes and the sun glinting off his hair is always enough to convince you. Besides, being outside helps soothe your mind on hard days.

It’s one of those days when he comes up to you after hearing you sigh for the third time in a row. He puts his hands on your shoulders and gently pries you away from your work. He threads his fingers through yours and pulls you outside into the garden with the promise that you’ll only take a short walk outside to help you relax.

Of course, your short walk turns into a longer stroll as you disappear further into the country. Being able to lose yourselves in the scenery, pointing out different plants and animals is one of your favourite parts of living in such a secluded place. In these moments, it is easy to believe that the two of you were the only people in the world.

When you finally retrace your steps and start to return home, you notice that the sky has been darkening. The air is still warm, but there is a heaviness there, the promise of rain. You tug on Jihyun’s hand, urging him to speed up.

“Darling, we don’t want to get caught in the rain.”

He smiles mischeviously, “What if I do?”

Before you can reply, you feel the first drop of rain hitting your cheek. You tug on his hand again, hoping you’ll be able to get home before it gets too heavy, but it’s too late. All at once, the rain starts to pour down in sheets around you. A freak summer storm.

He laughs gleefully, pointing his face to the sky and holding out his arms. It’s contagious, and soon you’re laughing along with him. Here you are, caught in the rain, and you realize that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that you’re drenched, that there’s still a while to go before you get home. You’re out here with the love of your life, and nothing else matters.

You’re filled with the urge to run, to feel the burn in your lungs and the raindrops on your face. So you do. He quickly catches on, and you run the rest of the way home together, splashing in puddles and calling out to each other. When you’re in sight of the house, you slow down. It looks blurry, almost dreamlike at this distance. You don’t want to go back inside yet.

It doesn’t look like he wants to either. He takes both your hands in his and pulls you towards him. You’re close enough that you can see the drops of water collecting on his eyelashes, close enough that you could count the freckles that have started popping up on his face this summer.

It’s not the rain that makes goosebumps form on your arms, but the way he looks at you now. His smile has softened into something more meaningful, more tender. His hair hangs low over his eyes, flattened by the rain. Instinctively, you push it back and off his forehead. His hands drop to your waist and he pulls you even closer, eliminating any distance left between you. Your hands go to his shoulders, feeling how his shirt clings to his skin.

He's still smiling as he kisses you, all teeth and soft lips against your own. His hands are firm on your waist, holding on to you like you’re the only thing keeping him from being swept away with the weather. You run your fingers through the hair stuck to the back of his neck, unable to keep the smile off your own face.

When you pull apart, your expressions mirror each other, all dripping hair and loving eyes. He takes your hand again and spins you once before pulling you to his chest.

#kissing the RFA #mystic messenger #mystic messenger V #mysme V #mystic messenger jihyun #jihyun kim #my writing

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peachsayshi · 2 years

Note

OMG, please, I'm begging on my knees, ❛you’re the only thing that matters❜ and dad!Sakuna

A/N: minors and ageless blogs do not interact - this drabble is a follow up to (PART 4.5) Hope you enjoy this drabble! xo -> quick drabble requests!

You woke up late in the afternoon, your body bolting upright in shock when you realized that you were still tangled between the sheets on your master’s bed. You nearly tripped over yourself as you tried to scramble yourself together, immediately thinking of Rai who must have been alone for hours. The image of him red in the face, tears pouring out of his eyes and rolling down his rounded cheeks made your chest tighten. You were shaking from how quickly you were trying to find your dress, wishing that you insisted that Sukuna let you rest the night instead of keeping you up until the break of dawn.

You only paused when three servants entered the room, all of them staring at you with cold eyes as they watched you awkwardly stand in place and clutch the bedsheet tighter around your frame.

“Master Sukuna has requested us to prepare you a bath,” one of them spoke calmly.

You felt strange hearing the people within your own rank speak to you in such a formal tone. You knew for a fact that you weren’t popular among the others who served your King, as many of them merely considered you the “monster’s favorite whore”.

“I don’t have time for that, I need to see my son-”

“The young prince is with him.”

You blinked away the seconds, their statement catching you off guard. Not only because you were unable to picture father and child actually spending the entire morning together, but the fact that they also addressed your son with such an honored title.

“With...him?” you repeated.

“Yes,” another servant nodded. “Follow us, we have a few things prepared for you.”

***

Never in your entire life have you ever been treated this well.

The servants guided you to Sukuna’s private bathhouse, where they took the time to wash you.

They’ve done this before on behalf of your King after you spent the night together, but this time you weren’t met with disgusted stares or cruel comments. They averted their eyes from staring at the hickies on your neck and between your inner thighs, focusing instead on filling the hinoki wooden bucket as they cleansed you.

They then led you towards the bath for you to soak. The steam envelopes around your body like a warm blanket, and you felt all your muscles relax the minute you submerged under the hot water.

After that, you were dried off and led straight into another room. They delicately took care of your skin, starting off by exfoliating your face with rice flour before applying on a moisturizing oil, which they also used on the rest of your body. The wrapped you in silk, the fabric melting over your skin and causing goosebumps to rise up from how soft it felt. They then proceeded to knead your scalp, before styling your hair while massaging in droplets of camellia oil.

By the time you were finished you could barely recognize the glowing face radiating before you.

“I see they treated you well...”

Everybody in the room froze when Sukuna made his presence known, and you held your breath when you met his gaze.

The servants trembled when they bowed their head, and you naturally mimiced their gesture out of habit.

"Leave us.” he demanded, without even glancing in their direction as he began walking towards you.

Once the two of you were alone, you started to panic.

Your Master was known for many things but a kind heart was not one of them.

You could fall to your knees out of respect but instead fixated your gaze onto the ground as your heart thumped wildly in your chest.

“Where’s Rai?” you questioned softly.

“I ate him.”

You glanced up at him in disbelief, only managing to find your words when you noticed him flash you a wide, toothy grin.

“That’s a horrible thing to say,” you lectured, feeling your cheeks heat up from how you naively believed his twisted comment.

“He’s my only heir, I’ll only chew him up and spit him out if he tries to overrule me,” Sukuna half-joked with reassurance, “But to ease your worries, you should know that the little pest is fast asleep.”

“Oh...” you replied, nodding your head slowly as you folded your hands over each other. “I’m sorry for inconveniencing you. I promise it won’t happen again.”

Sukuna pinched his brows together, closing the gap of space between you both as he tilted your chin up.

“I want your gratitude, pet, not your apologies.”

You swallowed hard, afraid that you were stepping on eggshells around your Master who would surely rip you apart.

“You spoiled me far too much today. Words aren’t enough to express how grateful I am. I’m completely indebted to you.”

Sukuna scoffed, rolling his eyes with annoyance at your meek appreciation.

You felt one arm circle behind your waist, while his other hand cupped your face as he leaned in for a kiss that made you go weak in the knees. Your mind spun in circles, your body molding into his own as your arms looped around his neck.

Funny how you once resented kissing him, only to find yourself wishing it would last longer than just the moment.

“You owe me nothing,” he stated in between breaths, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “I was worried about you.”

“You were?”

Sukuna kissed the corner of your mouth, his lips trailing down to meet your neck as he found the love bite that he imprinted on you last night.

“You’re the only thing that matters,” he murmured while pecking you softly, before returning to face you with a serious glint shining in those red eyes as he narrowed his gaze. “After all, you are the mother of my child.”

You felt the knock wind out of you.

Not once has Sukuna ever regarded you with any personal attachment. You knew your place in his eyes; you were his favorite when you indulged him in a night of passion, his pet when he spoke to you with slight affection while demanding your obedience and his brat whenever he was cross with you.

You waited for him to loosen his hold but he didn’t, firmly holding your stare as he waited for you to respond.

You felt like you were dreaming, and you followed your instincts as you tested the waters by cupping his face in your hands and kissing him once again.

“Thank you, My King.”

Sukuna smiled against your lips.

“Now say that again but with my name.”

Your throat tightened, and he could see the uncertainty in your eyes.

“Thank you…Sukuna.”

He closed his eyes hearing how softly your name escaped his lips.

“That’s a start,” he hummed with approval. “You might as well get used to it.”

#peach.queues #Sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x female reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff

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pherelesytsia · 2 years

Text

Duties of a loving boyfriend

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female/Sick Reader

Summary: As Y/N doesn’t arrive at the office, her concerned boyfriend takes care of her.

Warning: sickness and fluff.

Word Count: 1.4k

a.n:. Requested by Anonymous.

The droning ringing didn’t stop. The young woman groaned loudly. Her eyes were watering, seemed as if she had been staring into the raging flames of the bright sun for hours. Groaning, Y/N tried to hide her face under the blanket, but could not get used to the light streaming through the narrow gap between the two curtains in light tones. Dizziness overcame Y/N. Silence reigned. The woman exhaled loudly, hid her eyes with her palms, wanted to let darkness reign, but then the loud ringing sounded again and let the sickly woman know it was urgent.

Groaning, Y/N rose from the bed. She had spent the past hours and pushed the white sheets aside. Her feet collided with the floor. Painfully, her muscles ached and threatened to give up under her weight, but Y/N remained strong and pushed herself off of the corner of the bed. Struggling, she walked through the open door. With her dominant hand, she searched for the wall, tried to find a hold, walked sluggishly down the corridor, passed the bathroom and continued to stroll towards the door. Y/N fixed her gaze on the floor, didn't want to see herself, knew exactly how she looked, knew the circles under her eyes were deep, knew she looked sickly and her hair was greasy as if someone had poured olive oil over her head.

Sweat danced down the old washed-out shirt. Dark spots had spread on the greyish tones and didn’t vanish. The keys sang out loudly, colliding with each other, letting the person on the other side of the door know it was about to be opened. Suddenly, the tiredness disappeared from her body. Y/N took a step back, wanted to slam the door in his face, didn't want him to see her like that, but before Y/N could do what she wanted to do, a foot made it impossible to close the door.

A loving smile graced his lips. Two brownish bags were in his possession and food and medicine peeked out. Concern spread through his gaze, seeing the tiredness in her eyes, noticing the pain and seeing the marks spreading across her face, framed by a few strands of hair that had escaped the bun.

"Spence, what happened? I called Hotch and told him to let you and the others know." she coughed; couldn’t finish the sentence she had started.

The expression in his eyes shifted. His brows almost met and the urge to hold her in his hands and carry her to bed welled up in Spencer, desiring to take care of her, needing to, aware it was his duty and responsibility as her boyfriend.

"I know this is the reason I'm here. I was in his office when you called Hotch, and I heard everything. Have you seen a doctor yet?" Spencer asked.

Meanwhile, he took a step towards the door, nudged it lightly and thanked with a smile as Y/N allowed him to enter the flat, would have entered too had she not allowed him, knew no one could take care of her, knew he had to leave when she had called in the early hours that she was sick in bed and would arrive to work.

"I have taken the next few days off and if they should need me, JJ will send me the files. I went shopping. I didn't know if your fridge was full, so I went shopping and bought some medicine. I picked up some yoghurt, lots of fruit and vegetables and crackers and the tea you like so much." Spencer began.

With quick steps, he walked into the kitchen of the small flat and placed the two bags filled to the brim with food and medicine on the kitchen counter before turning back to the woman who closed the door and stared questioningly in Spencer’s direction who put the groceries on display. Y/N wanted to start a sentence, to let him know she was fine on her own but she stayed in silence. Her head was throbbing, the muscles aching and the throat was as dry as a desert.

"Not to mention I took some healthy sweets without artificial sugar. I will prepare some medicine and make some tea with honey. I brought everything to make us soup, I hope you like vegetable soup because I'm going to make it for dinner today.", "Spence, I'm not dying, I'm just sick, tomorrow I´m going to feel better," Y/N interjected, quietly interrupting the waterfall of words but the genius shook his head disapproving.

"My love you are sick and someone has to take care of you. What did you eat?", "But you have never taken a day off. I could be sick for a week or two," added Y/N, not wanting to stop him from the work he loved so much.

Spencer turned, no longer placing the groceries on the kitchen counter.

"Y/N I have already taken care of everything; you are my girlfriend and it is my job to take care of you. Do you want to lie down on the sofa or would you prefer the bed?" Spencer enquired, strolling towards his girlfriend.

"Spence what is that on your back." Y/N breathed.

The words were barely audible; her voice was raw and sounded painful yet he understood every syllable. Confused, Spencer turned and laughed. The heavy backpack whose existence he had forgotten rested on his back. Laughing the genius put the backpack in dark tones down on the floor next to the mirror flanked by scarfs

"My clothes. I wasn’t sure if I have enough of my shirts and trousers in your closet. I packed enough for a week." Spencer said dryly.

Y/n wanted to shake her head once more, but stopped herself, felt the shuddering pain travelling down her spine and yearned to find herself in bed. Spencer instantly caught sight of the tears brimming in her eyes.

He passed the kitchen, connected to the living room, and headed towards his girlfriend. Right in front of his girlfriend, the man dressed in a dark brownish suit came to a stop and placed his lips on her forehead after brushing away the strands that adorning her face.

"Spence you're going to get sick." a step Y/N took back, making it impossible for him to place his lips on hers.

"If I get sick then we can lie in bed together which we will do anyway. We breathe the same air so it doesn't matter. I'll bring the blankets and we can watch a movie together after I cook us something." he continued.

Spencer turned and led the way, knowing exactly where his girlfriend's bedroom was and did exactly as he said, taking the quilts, returning and settling them on the sofa, making sure the pillow was properly placed. Y/N looked after him, wanting to start a sentence again, wanting to let him know that all he was doing was not necessary but none of those words resting on the tip of her tongue came over her.

"Come sit down, you must be exhausted.", "I'm not tired," replied Y/N.

“Still, you can sit down and rest.” Spencer continued.

Y/N nodded and settled down. Laughing low Y/N looked after Spencer as he lowered the blanket on her body, making sure she wasn't cold. No longer the rays of the rising sun could enter the living room.

"Statistically the best medicine is lots of sleep but I'll put a movie on and in the meantime, I'll make us some soup. In a minute I'll bring you some black tea with honey.", "Spence none of that is necessary. I can't remember the last time someone took care of me. It was probably my mother when I was eight years old and had the flu." Y/N joked.

But no reply came from Spencer, he rested his lips again on her forehead. The pleasant coldness his lips left on her forehead quickly disappeared, but Y/N kept her eyes closed, heard him turn on the TV, heard familiar voices fill the living room. Spencer made his way to the kitchen counter and started to empty the shopping bags he had brought with him. The smile didn't fade away and Y/N thought she was feeling better, no longer feeling any soreness in her body nor mind.

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strangesmouth · 2 years

Text

Brewing Coffee

REQUEST} GRUMPY Stephen walking around in a robe that’s really Cloaky in disguise with the eye of agamotto hanging over his bare chest while he makes his coffee.

PAIRING} Stephen Strange x Female!Reader

WARNINGS} Fluff, smut.

WORD COUNT} 2,571

-} Request for maria- @/azirastrange on twt thank u for leaving me this idea

-}he is a sinful piece of human, gif owner, thank u

“Mmm. Good morning, Stephen.” You hummed awake as he squeezed you tightly and kissed your forehead. He let go of you before lifting the covers to sit up and put his feet on the floor. He had his head in his hands, trying to gather the courage to get up and face the day. Trying to get up to make coffee before showering.

“Good morning, my darling. How did you sleep?” He asked as loudly as he could. His voice was gravelly and deep. You could feel the vibrations of his voice in your core.

“I slept okay, given I wasn’t allowed to sleep for half the night,” You murmured. “I was so tired by the time we finally got to bed. There were a lot of movies.”

“Let me go make us some coffee then, my love.” He tried to get up as soon as possible.

“Don’t leave, yet. It’s only 7 am. Don’t go, Stephen. Cuddle with me, please. Keep me warm.” You pleaded. “We’ve been having such a great nap. Come on.”

“I wish I could. I have to get up.” He muttered groggily.

“Why?” You whined. Laid comfortably, and warmly in between the mattress and the sheets.

“I have to go get stuff done today.” He persisted, and he got up and walked towards the rack where both of your robes were and pulled his on.

“No. Stay with me, today” You murmured sweetly.

“I wish I could. Let me go make us some coffee, my darling. Stay here, stay warm. I’ll be back.” He leaned over your side of the bed and pecked your cheek while you tried to scooch even closer to his side, where the bed was warm and smelled like him. You were probably just taking up the entire bed at this point. “You’re so goofy. I’ll be back with coffee, my love.” He whispered.

“Okay, Stephen. Don’t take too long.” You managed to mutter through the comfort and warmth that was soothing you back into your sleep.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He whispered to himself as he left the room with his red robe.

He knew it was kind of stupid to turn Cloaky into a robe, but he did it so he wouldn’t be so cold in the mornings. He loved the idea of it, his little secret helper whenever he needed it. As he got to the kitchen, he sighed and walked up to the counter to begin making your guys’ coffee. He rinsed out the french press while yawning and pulled out the coffee grinds to put into the french press. He then boiled some water and poured it into the press. He let the coffee steep for a few minutes as he gathered two mugs, some creamer, and some sugar.

You walked out into the kitchen right before he was going to strain the coffee.

“I thought you were still tired and in bed, my love.” He stated as he finished straining the grounds. He looked up at you and saw you completely wrapped up in the comforter that covers the bed you two shared.

“It was getting too cold in there all alone. Plus, I thought I heard you tell me you weren’t gonna take too long.” You mumbled into the blanket that covers your frame.

“It takes a maximum of ten minutes to make coffee, my love.” He chuckles. You noticed something on his chest.

“I was hoping you’d aim for five.” You confessed as you leaned up against the counter near him to watch him finish making your cup of coffee.

“What are you wearing?” You asked, pointing to your own chest so he could tell you what was on his chest.

“My robe…” He seems reluctant to finish the sentence.

“No, on your chest. I can see the bulge of it from behind your robe.” You questioned.

“The eye?” He answers. “More sugar?” He continued, you nodded your head.

“Wait, are you wearing the Eye of Agamotto naked?” You realized as he slid your mug over to you. You picked it up and felt the warmth of the mug against your skin.

“YN-”

“Oh my god you are!” You were definitely awake now, and not a drop of caffeine had to hit your lips.

“Oh, leave me alone.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “I’m supposed to protect it.” He continues.

“With your dick?” You asked as you took a small sip of your coffee, and his face lit up red. He started to walk away. “Oh! Come on, Stephen! Let me see it!” You joked with him

“YN, No.” He seemed too stern for the Stephen you knew existed.

“Stephen, please just show me.” You pleaded and laughed as you tried to block him from leaving the kitchen.

“Will you let me pass you if I show you my chest?” He offers, now looking just slightly annoyed that he couldn’t go back to the bedroom and find you cuddled up to his pillow in his spot.

“Better yet, Strange, I'll lead the way.” You dealt.

“Deal.” He huffed, and he began to take his robe off, he swung it around and cloaky was revealed. The cloak reallocated itself around Stephen’s shoulders and you can now clearly see the Eye of Agamotto laid upon his bare chest. You try not to let your eyes wander down his abdomen but you couldn’t help it.

“That isn’t what we agreed to look at, is it?” Stephen furrowed his brows at you.

“No, it’s not. But it’s so distracting, I can’t contain it.” You said as you walked over to him and pecked him on the cheek. You leaned into his ear, and whispered, “Although now I see something I’m much more enthusiastic and interested in.” And walked away from him and to the room you’d both been sharing.

“Deal’s a deal, Strange.” You dropped the blanket at the door, revealing that you weren’t wearing anything but some underwear. He didn’t even realize that he was drooling at the sight or what was happening until he couldn’t see you anymore.

“YN, come here!” You can hear Stephen yell for you while he hurries as quickly as possible to get to you.

You were sitting on the bed, your chest was now covered with a pillow. “Oh…” Stephen exhales.

“What, my darling?” You beckoned as he gets a good look at you from the door.

“You little-” He walked over to you with a cocky smile, pushed your back so it was flush with the mattress, and straddled your waist.

“What’s on your mind, Stephen?” You asked as he sat on top of you for a moment to stare at your beauty.

“You. Just you.” He took a deep breath and kissed you.

“What about me?” You inquired further.

“Everything about you.” He answered.

“How sweet.” You smiled at him warmly. Your hand slid up his abs and rested on one side of his chest.

“Come here, please.” He said as he wrapped his right hand so that it was gently holding your head. He continued to leave love bites all over your lips, jaw and neck. He invokes some tired grunts of pleasure from you.

“Stephen, that cloak is not staying on.” You exasperated through his kisses.

“Why not? Would it be different if I was straddling you in the robe?” He asked.

“No, not unless the robe wasn’t red.” You confessed with a bright smile.

“Okay, the cloak comes off.” Stephen agrees. He grabs the neck of it and throws it off. The cloak stays where Stephen had thrown it, and it doesn’t move.

“You heard YN, there’s no room for you in here.” The cloak doesn’t have a face, but by the way the cloak storms out of the room and slams the door shut behind it, you can tell it was mad.

“And there goes the grumpy.” You whispered when the door shut. Stephen laughed and rolled over onto his back, pulling you on top of him. A perfect opportunity for Stephen to remove the pillow from in between you two. It was a swift movement. You were kind of caught off guard by it. You exhaled when you finally settled on top of him.

“I like it this way a lot more.” He said. “I can tell you do as well.”

“Can’t argue with that comment.” You confirmed.

He pulled you in for another kiss and you let yourself puddle on top of him. His skin was warm and soft. You held onto him by letting your fingers travel to his waist and letting your hand rest there.

“Mmm, Stephen. You taste like coffee.” You pulled away from his lips.

“That check’s out, doesn’t it, my love?” He asked you and tried to pull you into another kiss. You don’t budge. He let out a noise that signaled that he was annoyed with this action.

“It does check out. I watched you make my coffee with your cloak disguised as a robe, and the Eye of Agamotto around your neck. It’s a view I’ll never be able to get out of my head, and yet, I don’t think I want to.” You teased him by lowering to kiss him, and moving quickly to kiss his jaw instead. He moaned at the sudden feeling of your warm, wet lips touching his skin.

“I don’t think I want you to, either.” He joked, and you giggled against his neck. “Do you like these underwear?” He asked you.

“Um, they do their job, but not really, why?” You tried to get an answer before he did anything.

Stephen stood up, and placed you on your feet. Confused at the gesture, you tap his forearm for an explanation. He looked up at your puzzled face and whispered, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing, my love.” He responded. This did not ease the burning questions in your head.

“Relax, my love. If you do not like these underwear, then why do you wear them?” He questioned. He crouched down so that he was eye level with your stomach. He hooked both of his first two fingers into the front band of your panties, and he ripped them off. “Can I have some fun with you before I have to go do my job?” He requested, your face was burning hot. You didn’t even hear his question, he saw your dazed smile, stood back up and leaned into your ear.

“I’m going to lay you down on the bed now.” He said.

“Yeah… O-okay…” You could barely get yourself to speak, let alone move.

Stephen picked you up and brought you to the edge of the bed. He spit in his hand and played with himself before he lined himself up at your entrance. He slipped inside you and all you could manage to do was shudder under his body. Your shoulders lifted off the bed to try and sit up to kiss him in a desperate haze of whines and breathy moans. He obliged happily and met his soft lips with yours. Your moans turned into hums into his mouth as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you. You knew he was tired, but the feeling turned some switch on inside of you.

Now, all you could focus on was the intense feeling in your body. Essentially every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire. Your fingertips were already leaving red marks down his back, but you didn’t care. You knew he could take a few tiny scratches.

“You look and feel fucking delicious right now.” He whispered into your ear as he continued his slow pace.

His words send an unexpected shock to your core. Your torso twitched under him as he continued to sloppily chase his release. You felt tension building so quickly, you could barely utter a word before you realized you had just come undone. Once he was done, and slumped on top of you for a second, he caught his breath.

“God, you’re perfect. So perfect.” He slipped his hand in between your bodies and massaged you gently. You bucked your hips in response, and he sighed.

“Just lay there. Relax.” He cooed at you. His fingers bagan to massage your folds. You let the feeling of his warm hands take over. He was on top of you, anyway. He was going to be leaving soon. Those thoughts rang in your head right before he started to insert his digits inside of you. It made the tension start to build almost immediately, once again. He was working slowly but diligently, letting the pace of your breath decide his. Feeling you tighten around his digits alone, it drove him crazy.

“Fuck-” You were trying to hold in as much as you could, now you were breathing heavy for him. Your eyes closed tightly, a big difference from the haze he previously had you directly on. Something changed, a sense of urgency in his pace had erupted. Like he needed to feel you unwind on his hand. Like he wanted you to scream on his hand.

You opened your eyes to see if you were right about his change in pace, and his eyes were right there, staring straight at you.

“I’ve got you, my love. Be a good girl. Feel my hand pound into you until you cum.” He said in the sweetest tone he possibly could without being snarky or cocky. You could tell he resisted from teasing you when you were in this dazed state. He remembered an instance in this moment, where you said that “That looks like it is the perfect way to start a morning,” while you two were curled up on the couch watching a romantic comedy with the two love interests waking up in a gorgeous messy bed, your choice of course, but he didn’t mind a single bit for you.

You groaned at his words alone, letting the nerve feeling in your stomach light up. You could barely breathe, but that didn’t stop you from taking deep breaths as Stephen stood up at the end of the bed to ride you through your release as closely as possible. Letting you scratch his shoulders and arms up as he guided you. You could only see white stars at this point as he slowed to a stop, pulled his digits out of you, and got closer to your face to whisper a few words, “You deserve to wake up this way all the time. I have to get ready now, would you like me to draw you a bath before I leave?” He asked sweetly while leaving kisses on your jaw and hickies over the base of your neck.

You groaned in post-sex pleasure, remembering the real world exists. “Yes, please.” You muttered. You saw his smile before he pulled away.

“Of course my love.” He answered, and he came back after getting dressed, and told you your bath was ready.

“Towel and everything is in there, my darling. Have a good day.” He beamed before leaving to go do his job.

“He will be back…” You babbled, and you took your bath.

#stephen strange smut #stephen strange x reader #stephen smut #doctor strange smut #doctor strange x reader #strange x reader #marvel smut #stephen filth

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 3 years

Text

She’s the Man (Fellowship x Disguised as Boy! Reader)

Requested by anon

Warnings: mentions of domestic/sexual assault, nudity, awkward public bathing. Might trigger a gender identity crisis in some of you folks, but don’t worry, join the club—we’re getting jackets made.

Synopsis: after having run away from your noble family and horrid husband, you cut your hair short and start dressing like a boy, presenting yourself as one throughout all of Middle-earth. This becomes hard, though, as you start travelling with the Fellowship, where they start to suspect something is up with their young “boy” comrade.

Restrictions, restrictions, restrictions—that’s all you’ve ever known. You first noticed the tight chains on your soul when you were five, when your mother forbade you from playing with the local stable-hands.

You next noticed it when you were ten, being forced to wear tight corsets to shape your body before it even began blooming.

The final nail in the coffin, however, was when you turned fifteen, and were married off to a local, and quite old tradesman.

Though he dealt in silken fabrics, he was anything but smooth or soft. The night of your wedding was painful in all regards, for at fifteen you weren’t even sure if you were allowed to remove the tight corset during the act.

Five years more of total misery accompanied you, as you were forced to attend noble banquets and celebrations.

You encountered a wide range of people, from the likes of Denethor and his two sons, to the sickly Rohan King. Of course, they did not encounter you, for you were not allowed to speak unless spoken to, which was rare.

The two sons of Denethor and King Théoden’s own son, Théodred, as well as his two cousins, Eowyn and Eomer, were the only ones to initiate conversation with you.

You quickly realized they were better-spirited than their parents, but didn’t have the chance to explore more. A tight grip on your wrist from your husband silenced you, as he tore you away from the circle of new acquaintances quickly.

That night, life in your guestroom with your husband was a living hell, as he reminded you whom exactly you belonged to.

That was the night you snapped.

Bruised and sore, you wept into your sheets. Your husband had long-gone to drink more wine at the party, leaving his young wife alone in a state of mess.

It was around the third hour of crying that you studied the tapestry on the wall above your bed. With hair wettened by your tears clinging to your puffy cheeks, you ran your reddened eyes along the art.

It depicted a strong soldier atop a horse, riding into battle. A sword was drawn, and his short hair flowing in the wind behind him.

Subconsciously, you reached up to your own hair, long in length—your husband’s desire—and pulled on it.

As mounted in every room, two swords crossed each other over a shield, making a pretty decoration above the mantle.

Looking between the bruises inside your thighs, the tapestry and the sword, your jaw quickly set. Your eyes hardened, as you threw the sheets off your frame and stalked towards the mantle.

Glancing over your shoulder, you ensured no one was entering your room. With an emotional mind made up, you removed both swords from the shield.

Hastily, you used one to bar the door shut, and walked to the centre of the room with the other. With no candlelight around, you knelt on the fur rug under a square beam of moonlight, which poured in through the bedroom windows.

You looked at your reflection in the sword, and studied the state of your misery. Despising your parents, your husband and your life, you quickly put the sword to your hair.

With only a second to build the courage, you sliced all long locks from your head, springing forward a boyish look—instantly freeing yourself from your lifelong chains.

Breathing heavily in shock, you looked at the clump of hair on the floor, and picked it up. One hand ran through your now very short locks, and the other fingered the cut clump.

However, shocked breaths soon turned into joyous laughter, as your chest swelled with pride and your eyes watered.

Standing up swiftly, you ran towards the bathroom and opened the drawers. Finding a pair of scissors, you got to work and began styling your hair further.

Soon, you were left looking like a boy, by Middle-earth’s human standards. Your hair barely scraped the nape of your neck at the back, and in front, you had a fringe swooping to one side.

Grinning brightly, and now on a roll, you ran back to the mantle. Opening your husband’s drawers, you quickly discarded your nightgown and slipped his tunic on.

Shrugging the loose fit over your form, you secured it with a thick brown belt, trousers and used your own boots.

Studying yourself in the mirror, you realized this must be how you would’ve looked if born a boy, and you were surprised within yourself over liking it.

Throwing your clump of cut hair into the fire, you soon began tying sheets together. That night, you escaped down the window and fled the city atop a stolen horse, riding towards your new life.

Five years passed by, and you had been on the run ever since. Life was never easy for you, but at least now you were calling the shots.

You had taken to your new life as a boy, like a duck to water, presenting yourself as the rather quiet and distant “Arlo”.

You kept your head down and worked hard wherever you went, whether as a blacksmith’s apprentice, baker’s boy or stablehand.

Your most favourite part of the road, however, was learning to use a sword. With a book stolen from a library and five years’ worth of nights to practice, you had become quite skilled. The spite drove you forward.

You vowed no one would ever best you in combat again, pushing you harder every day. Your best friend and only companion was your horse, Paxton, and together the two of you explored Middle-earth to its very ends.

Along your travels, you had taken to competing in swordfight competitions, where you earned most of your cash. Swindling them, you presented yourself as a weak and frail boy, but in the end ultimately beat them all.

You gained a reputation quickly, and were slightly infamous for your swordsman skills, despite being so small.

It was this reputation that led you to Elrond’s secret council in Rivendell.

Your eyes had gone wide in alarm upon entering the petal-strewn area—where the council was set to be held—for Boromir, one of Denethor’s sons, was there.

You almost turned and ran, but he caught your eye quickly. You didn’t know whether or not to avoid his gaze, but that would bring about suspicion.

He instead smiled warmly at you, and thought nothing of your appearance. You nodded back tightly, and took your seat far away from him.

You ended up sitting next to an elf, for you knew their gender worked differently from yours. He himself looked a little girlish, so you believed he’d think nothing of your appearance.

He studied you with a side-glance as you sat down, and nodded curtly. You clenched your jaw and nodded back, moving your eyes forwards again.

You discreetly let out a sigh of relief, as you found the coast to be clear. No one figured you to be a girl.

Soon, Elrond joined the council. You felt your breath hitch in your throat, as you realized his puzzled eyes lingered on you a little too long.

Worried he’d rat you out, you looked away. Knitting his brows, Elrond slowly tore his eyes away from you, and began the council.

Long story-short, you had been invited to participate on a dangerous quest, all food and expenses paid for. Unable to pass up such a good opportunity for you and your horse, you reluctantly agreed, offering your sword to the hobbit sworn to carrying Sauron’s ring.

The first few nights you kept to yourself, as an awkward air befell the Fellowship—none really knowing each other nor knowing how to interact.

Very quickly, cliques formed.

The hobbits kept to each other in a pack, Gandalf joining them. Aragorn and Legolas joined forces, and Boromir, Gimli and yourself found ranks in solitude.

However, this was not to last forever.

Boromir had attempted many times to strike up conversation with you, as besides Aragorn, you were the only other “man” there.

You kept it short and courteous, but made it apparent very quickly to everyone there that you were in no position to begin friendships. This was a job to you—nothing more, nothing less.

That still did not stop anyone from trying, though. After Boromir, Gimli was next. The topic of the night around the campfire was “women”, as they all discussed their perfect partner.

The conversation divided the group in half, over those choosing to go more physical in nature a direction, and the other half preferring emotions.

Gimli laughed heartily and elbowed you in the shoulder. “Forget this lot, eh? I bet you and I are exactly alike, laddie! Thick thighs and body hair all over! Am I right?”

Laughing nervously, you rubbed at the back of your neck. “Uh…not really…”

He blinked up at you in surprise for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders and pressing on in the conversation. Legolas studied you from across the fire, and made a mental note of your words.

Later on, when you were all setting up your rugs, Legolas approached you. He crouched down by your side and began helping to unroll your pack.

You recoiled from him slightly, and stared up in alarm. He looked back down at you briefly with a tight-lipped smile, and spoke.

“I agree with you from earlier,” he said. “I believe partnership should be about romance and emotions, not physical acts. How about you, mellon nin? Have a lady waiting back at home for you?”

You sputtered up at the prince, before averting your eyes and rolling your pack out faster. “No, I…uh, that’s not really my area…”

Legolas knitted his brows for a moment in confusion, before his lips parted in sudden understanding.

“Oh. Oh! Well, um…do you have a gentleman waiting back at home for you, then?”

Snapping your eyes up at him once more, you flushed.

“No! No! I, look—I’m really kinda tired.” You made a show of yawning loudly. “And I think I just wanna get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning, though…brother?”

Legolas blinked down at you a few times, before speaking and rising to his legs. “Oh! Uh, sure…that’s no hassle. Rest well…brother?”

“Will do,” you drew out, laying down.

He threw a glance over his shoulder at you, before walking away. He caught Aragorn’s eye as he walked past, with the ranger sat there puffing away on his pipe.

They both tightened their lips, looked away and raised their brows, figuring you were just a moody boy.

The most awkward situation of all, however, came a few weeks later. Having managed to sneak away from the Fellowship, you found a nice river, of which you could bathe in.

Paxton followed suit, keeping your towel wrapped over his saddle. He snorted in worry as you began to undress, revealing your body to the running river.

“It’s fine,” you laughed, girlishly. Your voice had returned to its normal pitch, for the first time in a long time. “Just because I’m pretending to be a boy as I travel with them, doesn’t mean I have to smell like one!”

Paxton snorted, and you knew he was telling you to hurry.

“All right, all right,” you laughed again, stepping into the water. You hugged your chest as you dipped below, submerging yourself fully.

Rising again, you exhaled a sigh of relief, and began washing the grime from your hair and face.

You were only in there for so long, however, for soon boyish laughter came from up the forested incline.

“Out of the way!” Pippin called, stripping off his clothes.

“No! You move!” Merry shouted back, also stripping down.

Behind them both, was the rest of the entire Fellowship, save for Gandalf.

Your eyes grew wide in alarm, as you watched them all meet the river’s bank. They then began undressing—Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli, Legolas and the hobbits included.

Soon, they each all jumped into the water, splashing one another and laughing loudly. You found a large boulder within the river nearby, and swam behind it.

Peeking out from the side, you watched them all swim closer in a group to where you were. They began cleaning themselves, and soon just started to wade around—relishing in the cool feeling.

However, as you tried to swim away discreetly, Legolas’ elven ears caught you. He narrowed his eyes, and began swimming over to your rock.

Knowing you would be caught if you tried to flee, you pressed your back firm against the rock, lapping up against it.

Legolas was now upon you, and looked around the corner to find what was behind it. Once he saw it was only you, he beamed brightly.

Rising up out of the water, he folded his arms over the rock and leaned over, looking down at you.

You tried to not let your eyes drift or slip, as you stared back up at him. However, mistakes were made (but clearly not on his parents’ behalf).

“Hello, Arlo!” he announced merrily. “We didn’t know you were also in here.”

Upon hearing your name, the rest of the Fellowship waved you over, asking you to join them.

You chuckled nervously and began swimming backwards and away, speaking as you did so. “Oh, no…that’s quite all right! I, uh…just remembered I actually have something to do—”

“Oh, no! Don’t be like that!” Boromir chastised. He grabbed your wrist gently and reeled you back in towards him and Legolas.

Your shoulders went rigid, as you nearly brushed up against their bare bodies.

Soon, the hobbits, Gimli and Aragorn swam over to you, and you were more thankful now for the darkness of night than you had ever been.

Though, with one slither of moonlight in the right spot, you’d soon be exposed.

“Please don’t leave on our behalf, Arlo,” Aragorn encouraged, placing a hand on your wet shoulder. “It is good for team morale to bond like this. Besides, we’re all men here.”

“Some more than others!” Gimli announced. You looked up in the direction of his voice, and immediately covered your eyes.

Gimli was stood with his hands on his hips, proudly naked atop your boulder.

“I am the king of this rock!” he announced. “Any competitors who’d like to have a go at pushing me off?”

“Please,” Legolas rolled his eyes, before he, too, swam over to the boulder and climbed atop it. “This will be the easiest fight of my life.”

Catching more than you wanted to see, you made a squeal of rejection, before forcibly pushing your way through the group and heading towards the bank.

Paxton met you quickly, and you swiftly wrapped the towel over your shoulders like a cloak, as to not make it obvious what you were covering, but doing so nonetheless.

“I’m sorry,” you said to them, “but I truly do have something else to do…literally anything else. I’ll see you all back at camp.”

They watched as you left in a hurry, and shared glances with one another. Thinking nothing of it, besides your usual mood, they shrugged and returned to what they were doing.

This continued on for quite some time, throughout the entire Fellowship journey. Though, you never again attempted to bathe with them all around.

Fortunately, your travels soon took you out of the woods, and into the cities. Many fights had passed your small group, smaller now than before, by.

The most recent of battles saw many great feats—the “Battle of the Pelennor Fields” it was called.

In this battle, you had fought formidably. However, the true victory for women that day went to Eowyn. She had removed her helmet in the middle of the fight, pronounced she was “not a man”, like you had wanted to do so many times, and slayed the Witch-king of Angmar.

You were inspired greatly, but also so furious at yourself. You were also slightly jealous over the attention she got.

“What a brave woman,” Gimli would say.

“I’ve never met a woman so bold,” Merry added on.

“Truly remarkable,” Legolas agreed.

The six of you were sat in a stone courtyard together, camping out in the aftermath of the fight. Your jaw was rigid with fury, as you listened to them praise Eowyn over something you had been doing for the past few months.

Rolling your eyes, and making a show of turning over in your sleeping bag harshly, you quickly gained the Fellowship’s attention.

“Oh, and what is your problem, laddie?” Gimli snarked.

“Upset you were outshined by a girl?” Legolas taunted as well.

“You’re not that misogynistic, are you?” Merry chortled.

Aragorn glanced between your turned back and the laughing boys, before taking his own turn at scolding you.

“Arlo, Eowyn was a great asset today, and we are guests in her company. I will not see you sulking towards her remarkable feats.”

You glared at him over your shoulder, before huffing and returning to sleeping on your side. Your arms were folded over your chest, and your body burning in jealous rage.

“Gosh, what is the matter with you?” Legolas asked next, truly fed up with your attitude. “Why are you always in a bad mood?”

“Wouldn’t have taken you for a misogynist either,” Gimli remarked, smacking his gums as he ate a chicken leg.

You stayed on your side with your back turned to them for a few moments, glaring at the wall. However, the rage in your chest soon gave way to a lump in your throat, as you soon felt your secret burst within you.

“I’m not a misogynist…” you spoke up.

“Poppycock,” Gimli called you out.

Sighing, you sat up and looked at them to your side. “I’m not a misogynist, because…I’m not even a boy.”

Silence echoed around the courtyard, as your travel companions blinked back at you.

“What?” Pippin asked, squinting his eyes. “What do you mean you’re ‘not a boy’?”

Groaning through another sigh, and rolling your head, you pressed on. “I mean I’m NOT a boy! I’m a girl, for Eru’s sake…I’ve just been…presenting myself as one, for…reasons.”

“What reason could you possibly have to lie about something like that?” Legolas asked, not entirely believing you.

Feeling the urge to cry rising within you, you inhaled a deep breath and answered. “Nothing you men would understand.”

“I’m sorry,” Merry laughed, “but I don’t believe you at all. There’s no way you’re a girl.”

Glaring at him, you knew his words to be true. Knowing how to prove you were indeed a girl, you reached into your loose tunic, and began unwrapping the bind around your chest.

Pulling it out, you threw it down in front of the now gaping group. Without a shred of chivalry, still disbelieving you to be a girl at all, they glanced between the fabric and your chest, which indeed proved your gender.

“I don’t believe it…” Pippin whispered, staring with wide eyes.

In fact, they all did. With six pairs of male eyes on your chest, you felt very vulnerable and covered yourself.

This seemed to jolt them back to their senses, as they coughed uncomfortably and looked away.

The only one still looking into your eyes, was Aragorn. “Why did you feel the need to lie, my lady?”

Being called a “lady” for the first time in five years opened up a floodgate of emotions, as you wept into your hand.

“Yep, definitely a girl,” Merry rolled his eyes. A swift punched to his arm from Legolas silenced him.

Now knowing exactly how to deal with you, Aragorn stood up and crouched before you. He placed a tentative hand on your shoulder, and encouraged the other boys to come forwards, until they were sat all around you in a comforting circle.

“What is your real name, young maiden?” Aragorn asked softly.

Still sniffling into your hand, and bearing a downcast head, you spoke up in a barely audible voice.

“Y/n…” you revealed.

“What a beautiful name, Y/n,” he smiled warmly.

Like a turn of the tides, the boys all around took you under their wing, as if you were their own little sister. Everything about you now made sense, and they felt at ease with you instantly.

And, surprisingly, you found the same about them, regarding yourself. You didn’t at all feel threatened by their presence, but instead protected.

“I’m sorry,” you wept, shaking your head. “I had no choice, they made me marry him, and I-I couldn’t stay there, and then I had to make money so I ran with the lie and—”

They shushed your incoherent crying quickly, and rubbed at both your knees, back and shoulders comfortingly.

They gained more information about your previous life in those few seconds than they had before in the last few months. They didn’t need to know anymore, nor wanted to, from the sounds of it all.

“Please don’t kick me out of the Fellowship…” you sniffled.

“Why would we do that?” Gimli laughed. “We now have TWO remarkable women in our ranks! Eowyn AND Y/n!

“A great win for us, indeed!” Legolas agreed brightly.

A smile broke through your tears, as they shook you softly and commended your swordswoman skills excitedly.

This carried on for a few moments, before you spoke up again, now smiling around at them through almost dried tears.

“So…you don’t mind about me lying? Or being a…woman?”

They shook their heads and returned your smile. “Not at all, lassie.”

Before the conversation could progress, however, Legolas suddenly recalled something.

“WAIT!” he gasped loudly, thinking back to the river. “THAT MEANS YOU SAW ALL OUR—”

“Let’s agree to never speak of it again, okay?”

“Aye, never again…sister.”

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