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#i thought i'd imagined this fucking scene
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 months
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about that one lan qiren & jin guangshan art: .....does that mean wen ruohan has both or is he as flat as a board on the opposite? XD
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Mans so flat they rotated him 90 degrees and he disappeared from the narrative.
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bumblingbabooshka · 5 months
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Dark Frontier should have had an ending scene where after Seven returned to the ship and she's self-conscious about having 'betrayed' Voyager and whether or not the crew trust her (they retrieved her on Janeway's orders but her orders don't always match the feelings of the crew itself), thinking of Tom's comment, thinking of what she was a part of, she stumbles upon B'Elanna. They're both working well past the time to do so. Seven tenses up because B'Elanna looks irritated but she just goes into business as usual about mistakes in Seven's work (probably because she needs to regenerate!) and how much time and energy it took to find her and Seven apologizes for the inconvenience (sarcastically) and B'Elanna accepts her apology then she smirks, staring at Seven. Seven looks unsure about what this means. B'Elanna reaches up and clasps her shoulder. "Good to have you back, Seven." she says. Upon Seven's nod of acknowledgement, she leaves, calling over her shoulder "Get some rest!" threatening that she'll be back in the morning with more corrections if she doesn't. Seven stares after her for a moment. She continues to work. She pauses. She turns around and gets onto her alcove, beginning to regenerate.
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entitled-fangirl · 6 months
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Sweet mama.
Joel Miller x reader
Summary: Joel gets baby fever watching the reader play with Tommy and Maria's baby.
Author's note: don't think too hard about the timeline please and thank you. Also, I got baby fever this weekend, so I figured I'd make everyone else have it, too. Also also- I use they/them for the baby since the gender hasn't been revealed in the show
Masterlist
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Oh, God. She was all that occupied his mind at the moment. 
Life in Jackson was not exactly what Joel had in mind, but even he'd admit, it had its perks. 
For example, this scene in front of him.
Y/N on the floor of their shared home with Tommy and Maria's baby.
At first, Joel had very much disliked the idea of babysitting for the night when Tommy asked. But how could he have said no when he saw the way Y/N's face lit up at the very thought?
So, he obviously said yes.
But now, here they were actually doing it. 
He was sat on the dusty couch with an old can of beer he had found, sipping occasionally when he fell out of his daydreams. 
How can he not enjoy the way she interacted with the kid?
He had seen just how fantastic she could be with Ellie.
Y/N had been with Joel a little less than Tess had. They had had a rocky start, especially right at the beginning.
She was a friend of Bill and Frank's. And Frank had decided that they should meet.
But he knew telling both parties about it would only cause conflict. 
So, he didn't tell them at all.
Imagine their surprise when unsuspected visitors appeared in the middle of Y/N's and Frank's tea time. 
She pulled her gun on Joel.
Things were tense for a while after that.
But, after some time, they found that they liked each other very much.
Sometimes, Joel worried that they liked one another a little too much.
"You know," Joel finally said to her. "I haven't even been around a kid like this since… well, when it was Sarah, I guess."
She looked up from her spot on the ground as the baby played with the wooden blocks in front of them, "Really?"
He nods, "Don't even know if I remember what to do. Thank God I got you."
She laughs, "You were the one that was a parent. I was just an older sister. That's how I got my experience."
He shrugs, "You have a gift for it."
She smiles, grabbing the 10-month-old. The baby giggles as she lifts them into the air. She walks to the couch, "Here." She holds out the baby to him.
He holds his hands up in surrender, "Nah. You're doing great, Sweetheart. I won't stop ya."
She scoffs, holding the baby close to her chest now with a teasing scoff, "Whatever, Miller."
"I'm serious," He argues, "I like watching you like this. Happy and… God, this looks so fucking natural for you."
"Joel!" She yelled. "Language."
He laughs, "See? You're…" He sighs in thought.
She notices, "What?"
He smiles and shakes his head, "In another world, sweet girl…"
She tilted her head, "Joel, I'm confused."
He stands up, inches from her face now. He gently takes the baby out of her arms and places them in the makeshift playpen. He returns to her quickly.
His arms grab her waist gently. His voice lowers, "If life was different, I'd give you a baby right now."
Her cheeks turned pink, "What?"
He laughs as he buries his face into her neck, "Think about it. You'd be a beautiful mother. God, I'd give you a baby."
Her gaze started to turn hopeful. She had never thought about having a baby. 
Her thoughts turned dirty as he started to kiss up her neck slowly.
"A sweet mama." Kiss. "Walking around here with my baby in you." Kiss. "Making every man in here green with envy." Kiss. "You'd be so pretty like that." Kiss. "God, you'd just glow more than you do now."
"Joel…?"
He pulled away at her weak voice.
She looks away in thought. "Do you think… if… if this whole 'cure' thing works with Ellie… You think there may actually be a world we could have a baby in? Where… we could be parents?"
He takes in her features carefully, not realizing just how much his words had affected her. "Well… I… I don't know." 
She nods and pulls away from him completely, her wishful thinking over, "Right." She walks back to the baby in the playpen, "Not worth even hoping for."
He pulls her back into his firm chest, and circles her waist with his arms, "Hey. Don't say that. We'll just… leave it on the back burner. Yeah?"
She nods. "Back burner. Okay."
The two watch the baby in front of them play happily, blissfully unaware of the world they all lived in.
Y/N sat in the backseat with an unconscious Ellie.
She was still shaking at the sight of seeing Joel in a murderous rage in the hospital.
She knew he was protective of her and Ellie but she had never seen him do anything like that before.
She cradled the girl's head carefully in her lap, gently running her fingers through Ellie's greasy hair. 
She looked up to catch Joel's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Guess we're not getting that cure, are we?"
He shook his head, "Guess not."
"Say goodbye to the chance at parenthood." She sighed.
They sat in silence for a while.
She watched Ellie carefully to check for signs of her waking up.
And she heard Joel's light chuckle.
She looked up, "What?"
He looked at her though the mirror again, "Nothing, sweet mama."
"I'm not… this is…" She glanced down at Ellie, and back up at Joel. 
She smiled slowly as she reveled in Joel's observance.
"I guess…" she noted, "I guess we've already been doing it."
Joel nodded, "Guess it really was made for you."
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lunahearts · 8 months
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Soooo I read all of Dungeon Meshi in this past week and I have many thoughts bouncing around in my brain and I think the only thing to do with them is some AGGRESSIVELY CLOSE READING of a scene I wanted to come back to and try to understand better.
So: I want to talk about chapter 28
This entire section of the story is something I feel like I am going to want to come back to a lot, because its such a transitional time and I feel like there are a lot of themes/ideas that I wasn't fully aware of during my first reading, and stuff I missed because of that.
One of the biggest things I have been turning over in my head is... hey, what was UP with the Marcille/Falin bath scene? Maybe it was because I was already primed to pay attention to stuff with them going into the story, or because I had already seen a couple of panels out of context. In any case, it really kind of stuck out to me as being very short but also VERY intense, while also being... hard for me to define? Some part of the nature of the intensity felt like it was going over my head.
I wasn't sure that revisiting it would help with this right away, but to my surprise, it actually WAS a lot easier for me to follow and understand when I went back to it. So I want to just do a close reading of That Scene and some other parts of the chapter & context around it all, because I think it offers insight into Falin & her relationships, and what purpose this chapter serves within the story as a whole.
So first of all, I think it's interesting that the scene starts with Marcille bathing Falin.
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It feels very caring in a more platonic, less charged way then what will follow.
Marcille goes from this caretaker mode to joining Falin in the bath, and then of course we get the first of The Panels
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(as a small note, I only noticed when revisiting that Marcille is using the rest of her Kelpie soap in the bath. Isn't that just the most heartwrenching little detail. Augh)
Anyway, one of the first things I thought was interesting going back to this is how much it reminded me of the very different sort of intimacy that came just before it - when Laios and Marcille assembled Falin's bones.
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This is such a beautiful and intimate sequence, and something about Marcille examining Falin, whole, after the fact... I can't imagine there are not some echoes of those bones in Marcille's mind. The action seems more startling/intense for Falin at first, and maybe part of that is because Marcille has already experienced this level of intimacy with Falin's body in a way Falin herself wasn't a part of.
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This panel in particular I think is a summation of the difference in the experience for them. This looks like... near orgasmic for Falin tbh, and Marcille is very focused on the actual like practical part of what she's doing, seemingly completely unaware of the Effect she is having on Falin.
The whole short sequence is focused on this intimacy that Marcille initiated seemingly without fully being aware of what she was actually doing. And once Marcille is satisfied, she is also the one that ends it, sitting back in the bath and moving out of Falin's proximity. All on her own terms, and for her own ends.
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HOWEVER... Falin doesn't just let things go.
Instead, she returns Marcille's attention. First, by asking after her wellbeing:
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Marcille, of course, deflects (there will be a lot of that in this scene).
But Falin doesn't let it go.
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Falin is not a confrontational person. She likes to keep the peace. In this context, and in context of the way that Marcille was the one to come into Falin's space initially, the way that Marcille controlled the initial intimacy... this is striking. I genuinely think that these three panels might convey one of the most assertive actions Falin (as herself) takes in the entire story. One of the only things that outdoes it is the fucking INCITING INCIDENT OF THE WHOLE STORY.
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I'd also like to point out here that this action of Falin's also parallels her resurrection by Marcille & Laios. It's is also a forbidden magical action done to save someone(s) she loves, and its something she does TO them, that they are not fully aware/able to react to until its done.
Anyway, back to the bath scene. Falin is taking action here and asserting herself. And how does Marcille react?
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She flips out!! She rejects it! She tells Falin that she isn't supposed to be acting like that.
It's a very distancing response from Marcille, and also one that puts her back in that caretaker mode from the start of the scene. She also puts even more distance between herself and Falin by sinking into the water.
Falin doesn't give up though! She continues to assert herself. She's okay, she is allowed to chose to do this.
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And Marcille continues to push her away. It looks to me like she only starts to relax a little once she fits Falin into a role she can better define and control. You're a patient, you're recovering, I understand this fact and you don't. Let me take care of you.
But, for a third time, Falin pushes back.
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I don't think it’s coincidence that this is where she opens her eyes. She asks directly about the thing that they have both been dancing around:
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The resurrection spell. The fact that Falin KNOWS about this, at least in part, recontextualizes the quiet battle for control between the two them. They both know at least some part of the truth. Marcille wants nothing else then to ignore it. Falin wants to be able to talk about it. Marcille's blatant refusal to give her those answers, I think, is what keeps them out of sync - intimate only ever in one direction at a time, never fully together.
And of course, even when directly confronted, Marcille refuses to engage with the truth.
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This moment being on the bottom of the page is notable too. There's a beat here. The last panel holds on Falin's face. The reader reaches the bottom of the page, and they are held here for a beat as well, with Falin. It's not quite a rejection yet. What Marcille says isn't directly an answer to Falin's question, but it is a response. A valid one, even! Falin wasn't just asking the question after all, but struggling with guilt that Marcille has every reason to want to reject.
But then you move on the next page, and...
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Marcille isn't actually addressing the question at all, not directly. She's deflecting, again. Oh we had a ~difficult time~, there were a lot of "tough situations." Even though she and Falin both know about the resurrection, and Falin has made it clear that she wants to talk about it, Marcille pushes away from the actual topic. She keeps things broad and indirect.
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She offers the smallest gesture to Falin - nothing more than a whisper of 'don't worry about it I won't get in trouble' (even though Falin's concern was never just about Marcille getting in trouble).
Marcille then continues to deflect even further, completely changing the subject onto clothes and frog adventures, which seems to distract Falin as well, as she finally gives up on pushing.
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And that's where the scene ends! Marcille pushes into Falin's space (without fully realizing), and Falin pushes back. She tries three times to get Marcille to acknowledge her wants, and three times Marcille rejects her, though she does eventually convey some truth. She is honest in her belief that Falin doesn't need to feel guilty, and that things will all work out, even as she continues to deflect the rest of the question. Falin finally accepts that, the topic of conversation changes, and we move on.
But there is a little bit more that happens between them. Towards the end of the chapter, they have this little 'oh no we have to share a bed' situation. Classic stuff.
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And Falin seems to realize that the context of this is kinda different now then it was when they were in the magic academy. She's not a kid any more, and they just had those intimate moments in the bath. There's a new tension between them, or one that new at least to the bed sharing of it all.
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And in this respect, too Marcille pulls away from what Falin is trying to say. She tries to frame Falin as a kid, tries to insist that nothing is different.
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When I first got to this part, it honestly felt... a little uncomfortable? After the bath scene, it is really weird to move into a new intimate situation with Marcille explicitly treating Falin as a kid.
What I have realized in coming back to this scene, though, is how much I think its meant to feel uncomfortable. Throughout the chapter, Marcille's responses to Falin become increasingly patronizing. By letting some of that conflict between them resolve at the end of the first scene, the chapter seems to let things rest, and lets you set it out of your mind.
Then, when the same type of conflict comes back at the end of the chapter, Marcille is even more blatantly treating Falin like a kid, and the unfairness of it hits even stronger. They are both adults, and Falin deserves the truth. After 27 chapters from the perspective of Laios, Marcille, and the others in the group, this progression lets you feel things from Falin's perspective. It's supposed to feel uncomfortable because it IS uncomfortable for Falin, the way no one will quite tell her the truth.
After all, Marcille isn't the only one to do this kind of deflecting when Falin tries to ask about what happened. Laios has a similar response, right down to the 'treating her a bit like a kid' part.
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Even more importantly, this final conversation of the chapter reveals one last layer in the knowledge/power imbalance between Falin and the rest of the party: she doesn't actually remember sacrificing herself and teleporting them out.
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As I mentioned before, that action was one of the most assertive things we see Falin do in the story, and she doesn't even get to keep that for herself. Instead of being her action, her choice, it becomes yet another thing that the others know more about than her.
I think that's part of why there is such an air of melancholy to this hug they share on the next page
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Obviously, obviously, there are so many emotions here for Laios and I don't think its all meant to be viewed as a negative thing, or that he or Marcille are being completely unreasonable. They've been through a lot, and what's more, they think they have time now. So much more time then they actually will have. Time to explain, to open up, to let Falin return to the group in full - as a teammate and not just as someone to be cared for and protected.
But they don't get time. And this relenting by Falin, this "I won't do it again," it's not something that feels triumphant. It's an attempt to comfort them, more a prayer than a promise. As if she is trying to exorcise a spirit. As if she is capable of promising that death won't come, eventually. It's what Laios needs, not what she wants.
That's the real tragedy of the chapter, I think. It's the one time, in the midst of everything, that they have the chance to give Falin what she wants - and they don't do it.
But I do think they realize that, and I think that this failure is a core part of their journey. It's another bittersweet taste to add to the mix - all the missed chances in this chapter to connect, amidst the moments of genuine peace they do get throughout it.
As Laios puts it later...
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If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, and perhaps if they hadn't failed her here, they never would have had the adventure that they got to share.
(or, perhaps more tactfully: in life & chapter 28, there are both good times and bad. Thanks, Chilchuk)
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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 10 months
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Revenge, a Dish Served Colder than Snow || Young!Coriolanus Snow x Reader
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GIF by @kvtnisseverdeen and divider by @firefly-graphics
A/n: I'd just like to say that this is not book or movie accurate whatsoever. Finnick is not even alive yet when Coriolanus was in his early 20s. I just really wanted to include him in this because he's hot and I love him. Also, lets just imagine he has been gone long enough that the next hunger games was about to happen.
Warnings: choking, swearing if there are others lmk
Wc:
P.t 1 P.t 2
Coriolanus Snow Masterlist
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Previous
“Go fuck yourself Coriolanus,” You sneer at him as you turn around but was stopped when his hand takes a hold of your arm. “The fuck did you just say to me?” He scrunches his eyebrows, fury in his blue eyes. You shake off his grip, staring at him square on. “I said, to go fuck yourself. Or, if you find her, go fuck Lucy Gray!” You rage, spinning around and walking out of the bathroom.
Coryo stands there in utter disbelief at what had just happened moments earlier. The image of you causing a scene infront of everybody and that tribute from district 4, his hands roaming around your body shamelessly. He felt pure rage coursing through his veins as he slams his fist against the wall.
~
Coriolanus watched with curious eyes once he saw you enter the room. He hadn't seen you for a couple weeks after that day he came back and moaned out Lucy Gray's name while fucking you. Even under that masquerade mask, Snow could tell it was you.
His eyebrow quirks up when he notices a man by your side. "Who is that?" He points to the mysterious man beside you as Livia looks over to where he was pointing. A chuckle leaves her lips, "Jealous, snow?" She swirls the alcohol in her flute before taking a sip.
"That right there beside your dear y/n is none other than Finnick Odair," Livia wets her lips. "A tribute. From district 4," She continues as Coriolanus' eyes follow the two of you, Finnick's hand resting far too low on your back for his liking.
"What is a fucking tribute doing with her then?" He scoffs, leaning forward on his seat. "Has your time as peacekeeper in district 12 forgotten how much power Y/n has?" She looks at him as if he was an idiot. "She just vouched for him, convinced her daddy to let him stay with her." Liv shrugs.
Coriolanus lets out a scoff, "Are you jealous of a district boy? He is pretty handsome don't you think. A strong competitor for sure," She says before standing up and leaving Snow in his thoughts. A few minutes later, he gets up from where he was sitting and manoeuvres his body across the crowd of elitist members and other wealthy people of Panem.
"What are you doing here with him?" Snow pops a grape into his mouth as you pause your actions and look to him by your side. Of course he was going to be here. "And why do you care? Coriolanus?" You chastise, "Do not. Call me that," He mutters at you, a stern expression on his face as you smirk.
"Well, if you must know. I took a liking to the tribute and let's just say, gotten quite comfortable with each other," A smile makes it to your lips as you could see Snow visibly annoyed. "He's a fucking tribute-" "Oh isn't that rich coming from you, Snow?" You let out a laugh as you face him. "That's exactly what I thought when I questioned your intentions with Lucy-" "Y/n, don't" "And there you were. Moaning her fucking name while inside me!"
You harshly say as a couple people around pause to look at you both. Coriolanus could tell you had drunk a bit more than you could handle. "Y/n, let's talk somewhere else," He takes your hands, ready to pull you away. You yank his grip off of you.
"No! I'm not done!" Snow runs a hand down his face at your loud outburst. "I never knew that you could stoop so fucking low you know. First it was cheating so that your precious tribute would win, and then you go chase her in her district and-" You couldn't finish your sentence as Coriolanus lurches towards him, hand gripping the base of your neck as your look at him in horror.
He squeezes it enough to make you shut up and gasp slightly for air. The people around you gasp at what had just happened. "Shut the fuck up. Shut your mouth before I do something I will regret," He spat, his hand squeezing as he shakes you."Get off of her!" Finnick shouts, pulling Snow away from you as you hold onto him, your hand touching your neck.
You then push Finnick away before doing something that further fueled the fire inside Coriolanus. You bowed. Just like her. Exactly like how Lucy Gray bowed at the reaping ceremony. A few stifled laughs could be heard throughout the room as Coriolanus looks horrified. He gulps, loosening his tie as you smirk at him
Coriolanus quickly leaves the room, breathing heavily as he runs his hands through his hair. He didn’t know what took over him. But he saw red the second you mentioned Lucy Gray. He swore he never intended to harm you. But he couldn’t help it.
His pent up emotions from the past couple of weeks needing diffusing. And you were pretty darn good at pushing specific buttons within him. Coriolanus caught glimpse of your figure entering the bathroom, he follows you whilst looking around, making sure no one was around.
You stared at yourself in the mirror, tears brimming your eyes as you study your neck, already bruising from his iron like grip. You were horrified, shocked, and most of all hurt, by Coriolanus. He never once touched you with such violence and he always reassured you that he would never hurt you and here you were. Crying in the bathroom stalls.
Even after the events that occurred when he came back, you couldn’t stop thinking about Coryo. You just couldn’t help yourself. He was your first everything. You lean your hands on the counter as you drop your head, tears cascading down your cheeks.
Coriolanus immediately heard your cries the minute he’s close to the bathroom door. He pauses. Leans his ear against the door and lets out sigh before entering. His entrance caught you by surprise as you stumble back upon seeing his tall figure.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you.” He says, sadness and guilt laced in his tone as he looks at you in sympathy, his eyes flickering your neck where he caused damage. You refused to meet his eyes as you turn your head to the side.
“But you should know better than to publicly humiliate me infront of everyone-“ A loud scoff emits your lips as you turn to him. “Go fuck yourself Coriolanus,” You sneer at him as you turn around but was stopped when his hand takes a hold of your arm. “The fuck did you just say to me?” He scrunches his eyebrows, fury in his blue eyes. You shake off his grip, staring at him square on. “I said, to go fuck yourself. Or, if you find her, go fuck Lucy Gray!” You rage, spinning around and walking out of the bathroom.
Coryo stands there in utter disbelief at what had just happened moments earlier. The image of you causing a scene infront of everybody and that tribute from district 4, his hands roaming around your body shamelessly. He felt pure rage coursing through his veins as he slams his fist against the wall.
Before you walk through the door, you stop and turn to face him. His expression angry, his hands were bawled up into fists, the wall beside him had a whole where he punctured it with his hand. “Don’t ever try talking to me again, Coriolanus. I mean it. Or I’ll do something you’ll regret.” You conclude before turning back around and walking away.
Coriolanus Snow knew without a doubt that you were capable of so many things that would hurt him, and his reputation. And he did not need further damage. So he listened. Regret seeped into him every single day as he left you alone. He would always watch you from afar though, he loved you, there was no denying.
What occurred that day with Lucy Gray was a mistake, a mistake he wished he could take back more than anything.
Taglist: @valenftcrush @ghostlycrystobalove @esquivelbianca @duds31 @threeinchminimum @shadowsepiphany @novacaneformybrain @crazylokonugget @unclecrunkle @darkqweenn @marihoneywk @beckinator7 @stelleduarte @1950schick @celineandtulips
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little-hermit-crab56 · 11 months
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I've been writing for a while so I thought I'd share some writing tips I've learned along the way.
1. Never sacrifice the flow for a quirky line.
That bit of dialogue or flowery paragraph you really like but it kinda disrupts the flow? Scrap it. I know it hurts, but you need to. If you really want to keep it, find somewhere else to put it where it actually fits in.
2. Dialogue is a dance.
Dialogue should go at the pace of an actual conversation, back and forth with little breaks and pauses. Add as little dialogue tags as possible while still making it clear who is speaking. You can also describe what is happening during a pause in the conversation rather than saying they paused, unless the pause is important.
3. Show don't tell is a guideline, not a rule.
Show don't tell is a very useful guideline, but if you're ALWAYS showing it can get exhausting to read. Skip the boring bits and just tell us what happened, then we can get to the good stuff.
4. If it's boring to write, it's probably boring to read.
If you can cut out a whole scene with little consequence to the story, you probably should. As I said before, you don't always have to show us, you can always tell us.
5. Everything needs to have a purpose.
I know there are probably lots of interesting or cute scenes where your characters are just fucking around, but if it doesn't develop character, relations, conflict, or plot, why should we care? Definitely still write them if they make you happy, but if you're gonna add it to your final draft, make sure it matters.
6. You don't need to explain everything all at once.
I know it feels tempting to put all the lore, and all the character's intentions, and reasonings into the first few chapters, but please refrain, you can reserve that for your character and worldbuilding sheets. Instead, take the time to let us get to know the characters, and the world, in the same way we'd get to know a real person. Make your exposition as seamless and natural as possible. It will take practice to know when to reveal information and when to let us wonder, but you'll get there.
7. Write in a way that comes naturally.
I know you probably have an author you wanna write just like, but that is unlikely to happen. Embrace your natural writing style and perfect it, rather than trying to be something you're not. Writing is an art, you need to find your own style and polish it as best you can.
8. Try to make us feel connected by cutting out certain words like "felt".
"Chad felt like a glass of water." Can be replaced with, "Chad was thirsty, so he reached for a glass of water." Both sentences tell us Chad wants a glass of water, but one makes us feel more connected to Chad than the other. Though both sentences have their time and place, you want to make your audience feel as close to their protagonist as possible. Make them feel like they're there, rather than just an onlooker.
9. We don't need to know every physical detail of your character.
I know you probably spent ages creating the perfect characters and you want to give us the perfect image of what they look like, but it can get monotonous and boring, why do we care that your character has brown eyes unless the colour has some sort of significance? Try to list off only the most notable features of your character and put focus only on the relevant details. Sometimes you can even not describe them at all and throw in little bits of information about their appearance for the audience to put together. We read to imagine, not to have a perfect image painted for us when we could be getting to the plot.
10. You're allowed to be vague.
Allow your audience to assume things, with some things you can just be lazy and let your audience's imagination do the work for you. Of course, don't do this with important things, but you can save so much time you might've spent researching an irrelevant topic when you can just be vague about it. You don't have to know everything you're writing about, so long as you know the bits that matter.
11. Writing is a skill that takes practice.
Don't be so hard on yourself if your writing is a bit cringe, we've all been there. The important part is that you research how to get better and keep writing those super cringe chapters. One day you'll reread something from a while ago and realize you're actually not as bad as you thought.
12. Leave your work to rest.
I know you wanna start editing right away, but once you've finished, leave it for at least a month. The longer you leave it the better, but that depends on your attention span. A month to six months is good if you're really impatient but want a good result. If you keep writing in that time your skills will continue to improve, then you'll be editing that draft with fresh eyes and fresh skills.
And if you're a fanfic author, I usually leave my chapters for a week before editing and posting.
Hope this helps anyone struggling, I thought this might be especially relevant now with nanowrimo.
I recently realized how much knowledge I've been accumulating over the years, I definitely have more but this is all I can think of for now.
I'm no writing guru, but if anyone has anything they're struggling with, I can do my best to help you out, so dont hesitate to ask questions.
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kasagia · 8 months
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A powerful man
Pairing: dark!young Gamemaker!candidate for president! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: You thought he was different. That he would never cheat on you. But apparently Coriolanus who came back from District 12, became Gamemaker, and ran for president was not the same man you knew. And you'll soon find out how wrong you were about him. Requested by: @tastycakee Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi Warning: 18+; My first time writing a smut scene, so please be gentle. I hope you will like it...🙈🙈; Coriolanus Snow, toxic behaviour; smut; Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist
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"Mr. Snow is busy…" you slam the door to Coriolanus' office behind you, closing it in the face of his secretary, who wouldn't let you in.
You cross your arms, glaring at your boyfriend in pure fury. Coriolanus stops writing something and looks up to enter just as you loudly shut the door behind you.
He raises his eyebrows slightly in surprise at the sight of you, then frowns at the pure anger in your eyes and clenched fists. He hopes your anger isn't caused by what he was trying to hide for you... otherwise, he will have some heads cut off.
"Y/N, darling, what are you doing here?" He asks with a charming smile as he gets up from his chair and walks over to you.
"Livia Cardew?" He stops at the mention of her name. He plays confused, frowning as he slowly responds to you, pretending to try to understand what you mean.
"I have no idea..."
"You could at least have some decency and admit that you slept with that whore!" His secretary must have heard your scream. He makes a mental note to talk to her when he's alone and to make sure he sends to the district and hangs any maid from the Cardew's house who spilled his secret.
"Look... it's not that I wanted it." He starts out gently; he tries to calm you down and explain his actions, but as soon as he takes a step towards you, you move away from him and growl like a rabid animal.
"Oh, of course not! After all, it's your dick that makes decisions for you, not your brain!" You shout at him angrily, pressing an accusatory finger into his chest.
He can no longer control himself after you cross the line. His calm, collected mask falls away to reveal his own rage and iritation. He grabs your arms tightly, making you gasp softly in pain as he shakes you lightly and pins you against the wall.
But he controls himself enough to not physically hurt you… at least not more. He just holds you there tightly, taking advantage of your moment of shock to explain his motives to you.
"Listen to me. She was a means to an end. I needed some information from her. I had to get closer, sleep with her, and sneak around her house, especially her father's office. End of the story. Considering it, it wasn't cheating. It was more like business than anything else. Besides, you're way better than her, petal. And I kept thinking about you all the time and how I'd rather have you wrapped around me than that thoughtless, naive bitch."
You feel sick when you hear it, when you imagine him in bed with her, and even more sick when you hear that he doesn't think that he did a bad thing at all. You feel like throwing up, just remembering how you let him touch you and how you treated him, worshipping him as if he were your whole world. You were so stupid and naive.
"You only prove that you are as disgusting, cruel, and manipulative as I thought. You can play with other people and their feelings, but not with mine. Not anymore. It's over. I've already moved out of your apartment, so you can continue running your campaign and exploiting other people all you want. I just fucking hope you won't win." You say it angrily, pushing him away from you.
You take advantage of the state of shock he is in, and you get out of there as fast as you can. The scent of Coriolanus' perfume clings to you, and you already know you need to take a very long bath when you get home to brush it away. As well as the felling of his hands on you. You only hope you won't have any bruises after his very tight and painful grip.
You practically run all the way to your car. You get in, not noticing that your ex-boyfriend is watching you carefully from his office window.
Coriolanus' eyes don't leave you. He watches carefully as you get into the car with his hands in his pockets.
He chastises himself for being so gentle with you. He promised himself after Lucy Gray that he would never fall in love again. And you appeared, breaking his iron resolve with one smile and a kiss. He should have made sure that he had enough control over you so that you would never think of leaving him before he started spoiling you.
All the dinners, sweet words and compliments, and thoughtful dates... he had rewarded you for nothing, and now his disobedient brat thought she could just walk away from him. Yes. He had given you too much freedom.
He should immediately clearly define the dynamics of your relationship, instead of leaving you under the illusion that you have something to say in any matter.
He remembered you from the Academy, even though you were a year younger than him. You were ambitious, like him. You always followed your own plan and ideas. Little rebel. It was cute then, but now he realises he needs to temper your personality. After all, his First Lady had to obey him at all times. You might have had a strong character and fought like a lioness, but absolutely not against him. He will destroy you or teach you obedience. You could be his wolf on a leash or his faithful dog. He didn't see it any other way. And he definitely won't let you go.
Coriolanus has already lost his one bird. He won't let another one do the same and escape from him.
And he even knew who would help him with it.
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"I don't understand why they're starting a campaign when there's still a good half a year left until the elections." You grumble to your labmate as you two work on a new tranquillizer for peacekeepers to use on rebels.
"They have to check the identity and background of the candidates, and so on. My father said that the process itself was a good three months of work. Besides, considering that a president usually stays in his seat until he dies of old age, it's better that it lasts longer. Let them at least work hard to earn our votes if they are about to rule over Panem all their lives."
"That's six months of seeing that son of a bitch's face on TV, on posters around town, and on practically every fucking corner. Don't be surprised that I would prefer it to be shorter."
"I don't want to be on his side, but I think he can win. You know very well that he has charisma, money, and... well." She interrupts, blushing a little. You roll your eyes at her. You know that Coriolanus is... breathtakingly handsome. His cold beauty will steal the hearts of many. It will be useful for his media image to hide what a boor he was.
"Big cock?" You joke, no longer vulnerable to the charming side he has been showing the public.
"Y/N!" She hisses at you, laughing softly and looking around the lab. Meanwhile, the rats you were testing on became... too calm. At least Dr. Gaul's snakes will have something to eat.
"What? I'm stating facts. I wouldn't be surprised if he slept his way to the top." You say, as you are preparing new test subjects and reducing the dose of preparation a little.
"Shh! The viper is coming here." She whispers and goes back to work.
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that, in fact, Dr. Gaul enters the laboratory. She might be getting older, but she still held up well. The only thing that changed was that she walked with the aid of a cane, which only added to her intimidating appearance. And the fact that she was no longer the main organiser of the Hunger Games. Coriolanus performed this role for her. Although the title was still hers.
"Dr. Gaul." You both greet her and step away from the examination table. She watches you and your work closely, mumbling something under her breath, and raises her cane, pointing at you.
"Y/L/N. My office."
"Yes, ma'am." You say and follow her. You feel your friend's eyes on your back as you follow the woman to her office.
You close the door behind you and take a seat in front of her desk as she nods towards you. Dr. Gaul takes some pills from his desk and swallows them. One of her snakes slithers between your legs and climbs up the desk to wrap around her owner's hand and then her cane. You have not only the piercing eyes of a woman but also the eyes of a snake.
She smiles, seeing that you didn't even flinch, still maintaining your calm demeanour.
"You're not a stupid girl." She says this while examining her pet. "And yet you find yourself in situations that only cast you in this light."
"I beg you pardon?" You ask, not expecting your conversation to become so... personal.
"I always said Mr. Snow would achieve something great. At the beginning, I thought he would be a Gamemaker like me. After all, he is not suitable for being a scientist like us. He has no patience; he needs new challenges, experiences, and adrenaline. But now... you know that you can have the president as... a person who is not entirely favourable to you, right?"
"I understand that there may be some difficulties…"
"Difficulties? Child, do you know him? You must be aware of what he is capable of. Or at least have some suspicions." She interrupts you, looking at you pointedly.
You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to calm down. You were fed up with the topic of your ex. Apparently, you couldn't just break up with him without making a fuss.
"What did you want to talk to me about, Dr. Gaul? What is it all for?" You ask, slightly annoyed, and she just laughs mockingly, shaking her head in amusement.
"I like you, child. I hope you won't disappoint me. Therefore, think about what is good for your future. Pride is fatal. Money and influence bring opportunities. But you probably already know that. After all, no one who gets into my lab is a saint. Especially not you and Mr. Snow."
"I'm not a whore like him." You defend yourself, crossing your arms, making Dr. Gaul laugh again.
The snake moves from her cane to the desk and nests in your lap. Out of habit, you stroke his head, gaining interest again and a gleam of approval in Dr. Gaul's eyes. After all, this one was a particularly venomous specimen.
"Each of us is. We may not do what they do, but for money... people can do everything. Don't you remember how you sold your dear friend? How did you knock her out of the competition for a spot in my lab? How have you done everything—play every dirty card to make sure that you will become a victor? Just like Mr. Snow. I heard there was a... misunderstanding between you two, but life isn't a fairy tale, Miss Y/L/N. You can go bankrupt and ruin your reputation while waiting for your prince. If you want to achieve something, be known as a great mind like me, and be relevant in this city full of rats and snakes, then you will do the right thing for your future."
"Dr. Gaul, with all due respect, I am acutely aware of what is good for me. And it's definitely not Coriolanus Snow." You say, standing up and letting the snake slither onto her desk again.
"Pity. So prepare a contingency plan. After all, I won't live forever. It is not known who will take my place or whose name will hang above the entrance to this laboratory. It's not my choice. But if it was, I would choose you as my successor. Unfortunately, the future president will have the most impact on that. And then... it may turn out that there will be no place for you here."
"It's not certain who will win."
"Are you sure, child?" Her question can't help but make you doubt. Coriolanus wouldn't give up so easily. You know it. Just like if Coriolanus wins, you're finished. Your entire career… "Go. Think about it. I hope you will prove that you have some mind. It would be such a pity to lose such a talented scientist as you. Especially because of stupid love affairs."
You mutter goodbye to her and leave the office. You're long back at your table in the lab when the secret door opens and Coriolanus steps out.
"Is that what you wanted, Mr. Snow?" The woman asks, turning to face him. Coriolanus moves closer to the desk, but enough to be out of her snake's reach.
"You could have been more intimidating. After all, her entire career depends on her submission."
"If you want her to truly obey you, she must come to you herself. Like a pet. Like a snake. If she sees that your relationship will bring her further benefits, she will come back to you. She's not stupid enough to waste such an opportunity. At least I hope so. You should focus on your campaign."
"I'd like that too. But currently… something else is on my mind." He says, walking over to the tinted window that overlooks the lab. He puts his hands in his pockets and watches you carefully as you work.
"You're wasting your potential. Maybe your children will be wise enough to follow in my footsteps more. One is running for president, and the other is a military chemist. Such a waste."
"Don't worry. One of our children will definitely continue your legacy, you have my word." He assures her while observing you.
You lean over the table, strands of your hair falling into your eyes behind your safety glasses, as you test another biological weapon on rats. You look hot in that scientist outfit. He grunts, feeling his pants getting a little too tight. He regrets that he never took the opportunity to visit you here...
"It better be that way. And for God's sake, don't stare at her like a love-struck puppy like you did with your tribute from 12. Patience. Or you will have to train her to make her obedient."
"You know I like a challenge, Dr. Gaul." He replies with a sly, cocky smirk and turns his head towards Doctor Gaul once he has calmed down a bit and composed himself.
"Go away now. Your last Hunger Games must be amazing and unforgettable, or I'll tell her what you have planned for her." He laughs at this, shaking his head.
"I appreciate your attempts to intimidate me, but you know I'll be happy with any outcome. Whether it's keeping her on a leash or reshaping her to meet my needs as my First Lady."
"But we both know which one you would prefer more." They share a sinister smirk. Coriolanus owed her a lot. He's learned many things under her tutelage... things that he uses to make sure you know that your place is always with him.
"As I said, I love a challenge. I will be expecting you as an honoured guest at this year's Hunger Games and my wedding. Of course, right next to my fiancée."
"Don't scare her away, Mr. Snow." She reminds him when he receives a package from her with the latest biological weapon. He will test it at this year's tributes. He smiles, thinking that it must have come from your talented fingers.
"Snow lands on top, Dr. Gaul." He assures her and says goodbye, leaving through a secret passage.
He still had a lot of things to do.
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It started innocently… if that's a word you could use to describe Coriolanus Snow.
You knew he wouldn't give up so easily after your breakup and that he would want to come back to you. And that he will use every means to make sure this happens. After all, he was an ambitious bastard who thought he could do anything if he tried hard enough. And Coriolanus had big plans. Plans that you only became aware of when it was too late for you to try and rescue yourself from him.
It started with roses.
Not just any roses. The most beautiful ones Coriolanus could find in his grandmother's garden. Beautiful white roses. A symbol of love, affection, innocence, and loyalty. Everything that Coriolanus lacks.
They were delivered together with a letter in which he deeply assured you of his feelings and asked for a meeting.
You happily threw them into the fireplace.
Then he started sending you roses to the lab. And from the smiles Dr. Gaul was giving you, you knew the bastard had won her over to his side. At least you and your co-worker had some fun destroying them in all sorts of strange ways, starting with burning them with a laser, throwing them into toxic waste, or even breaking them down into the substance you needed for your experiments.
One day, gifts came along with roses. Jewellery, books, clothes (even underwear, if you could call a thin set of strings that), concert tickets with invitations from him (you'd rather cut off your ears than sit next to him in the concert hall or stand by the stage), he did everything to get your attention. Which you happily denied him.
You avoided him like the plague, missing every event he was supposed to be at (even your little sister's graduation from the Academy). But there was one event your family wouldn't let you miss.
"Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. Miss Y/L/N and Miss Y/S/N. How nice to see you all together. May the odds be ever in your favour." Dr. Gaul greets you as you arrive at the official opening gala of the Hunger Games.
"Dr. Gaul. Happy Hunger Games." You say back.
"You too, dear child. I can steal you from your parents and sister, can't I?" Your parents nod quickly before you can speak. Dr. Gaul takes you by the arm and leads you to the upper lodge.
"I believe I should sit somewhere else…"
"Nonsense. Mr. Snow made sure your family sat near Mr. and Mrs. Plinth. They have good company, so you can make us that pleasure and sit with us." he says, taking her seat. You see that on your seat is a small piece of paper with your name on it.
"Us?" You question the woman suspiciously.
"Hello, petal." Coriolanus' voice behind you confirms your suspicions. Before he sits down next to you, he leans down and places a long, wet kiss on your cheek, while he tucks the rose behind your ear. One that matches your dress perfectly. You have no idea how the bastard did it. "You look stunning, as always. I was worried you weren't feeling well when I couldn't find you at your sister's graduation."
"I've actually been feeling bad for a few days now. The smell of roses makes me sick." You tell him, not hiding the hostility and coldness in your tone. He frowns at this, obviously not happy with your allusion.
"Maybe you are pregnant?" He replies mockingly, and you glare at him. He smiles at this, placing his hand on your bare knee. You regret not wearing a longer dress. At least you wouldn't have to endure the feel of his skin against yours. Reluctantly, you remember the time when you dreamed of his touch.
"You wish." You say, shaking his hand away as you place your leg over your knee. He doesn't care and instead places his hand on your other knee, making sure the railings of the lodge cover his hand as he gently slides it under your dress. You shiver as his cold hand presses against your warm thigh.
"Oh, you have no idea." He leans gently towards you to whisper in your ear.
Before you have a chance to push him away (or slap him), Coriolanus stands up and gives the opening speech of this year's Hunger Games. You glare at Dr. Gaul, and she just shrugs and turns her attention to the tributes. Only now do you notice that the cameras are focused on your row... and especially on you and Coriolanus.
"Aside from our little jokes… it hurts me that you didn't show up to any of the events I invited you to." He says, sitting down again as the reaping of the tributes begins.
He rests his elbow on your armrest and leans in to whisper in your ear. You know that, from a distance, it looks like he's flirting with you. And you don't like it one bit. Especially since the lives of 24 young teenagers are crashing down at the same time.
"Are you talking about your political events?" You ask, trying to shrug him off and move away from him. He doesn't let you, though, taking your hand in his and placing his hand on your knee, pulling you closer to him.
"I'm talking about our dates, darling."
"We are not together anymore. And we are not going on any dates." You remind him dryly, with great hostility in your voice. The bastrad doesn't even tremble.
"I dare to disagree with you. I never said I was done with you." He says dismissively as his hand roams freely under your dress, tracing patterns on your thigh. You shiver, despising him and yourself for the way your body responds to his touch.
"Well, I am done with you." You say it firmly, with all the confidence in your voice.
"Are you sure? Your sister is a hell of a smart beast. What a pity if the university did not accept her due to... the increased number of applicants."
"Are you trying to bully me? Threaten?" You ask incredulously, finding the strength to push his hands away from you. He gives you a slightly offended look, but instead of taking your hint and moving away, he tucks your hair behind your ear.
"I'm asking for a little cooperation. The Capitol would see me better if I was... in a committed relationship. And now all eyes are on the two of us and the tributes. They'll disappear as soon as they stop transmitting, and then the eyes of the Capitol will be only on me and you. And because you're sitting very close to me, people will think you didn't come here alone... even if that's what you originally wanted."
"You bastard..." You hiss at him angrily, and he just smiles, half amused, half cocky.
He raises his hand and caresses your cheek tenderly. You want to move away from him, but he holds your jaw tightly with his fingers. He tilts your head up slightly, forcing you to look into his icy blue eyes. He smells of roses and cigars... you wonder if he started smoking after your breakup or for business, to increase the number of contacts during these smoking encounters on the balcony.
"Just one kiss and a smile, sweetheart. Is that so much to give to ensure your younger sister a secure place at university?"
"And what later? Will you force me to get engaged to you? Get married? Create a fictional family?" You ask him furiously, knowing full well that if you give this devil a finger, he will soon demand your entire arm.
"I'm not asking you to marry me. Just about pretending to be my date... for now. You don't want your sister to suffer just because you didn't want to place a kiss on my cheek, do you?" You sigh, knowing he doesn't leave you much of a choice.
"She will choose whatever field of study she wants." You make sure by bargaining with him before you agree to anything he wants you to do. He nods, and you can only hope he has the decency to keep the agreement.
You smile sweetly at him and place your hand on his cheek, turning his face towards you. You press a kiss on his other cheek, making sure to leave a trace of your lipstick. You hear people whistling and clapping in applause.
You pull away from him and keep a fake smile on your lips, ignoring his happy, cocky smirk and tone of voice as he stands up and says an ending speech. As did the shocked looks from your family and Dr. Gaul's mischievous smirk.
You have no idea that this is just the beginning. And even if you do, you try to convince yourself otherwise.
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You've had enough.
For a month now, Coriolanus has been showering you with various gifts, following you around like a shadow, taking you to the laboratory, and bringing you home. He forced you to get into his limo once. The next day, it took you an hour to cover the hickeys he left on your neck.
You weren't together; you pushed him away as much as you could, and he tried at all costs to get you back into his arms or bed or into your pants. But now he has crossed the line.
That's why you stormed straight to his office again, bypassing all the secretaries and security with your natural grace.
And what unnerved you the most was how the bastard had the nerve to smile in amusement as you barged into his office.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You snap at him angrily, closing the door behind you. You walk over to his desk, the click of your heels echoing around the room as you throw your purse onto the chair and cross your arms, glaring at him.
"I have the impression that your greetings have become more and more dry and aggressive, haven't they, petal?
"My sister failed her first exam, even though I know she wrote it damn well. As it turns out, her professor is a dear friend of yours. Do you have any explanation for this?" You ask him accusingly, and he just smirks and shrugs, not even hiding the fact that he wasn't involved at all.
"Perhaps she didn't study enough?"
"Do you want to take it out on someone? Take it out on me, but leave Y/S/N out of it!" You shout at him madly, pointing a finger at him. He tilts his head at you in curiosity and stands from his chair, walking around the desk and standing in front of you.
You don't feel comfortable about him being so close to you, but there's no way that you'll show him that he's making you feel nervous and anxious.
"Calm down, sweetheart. This is exactly the reaction I needed from you." He says, his icy blue eyes piercing right through you, making you almost shiver under his intensive gaze. Even when you were in heels, he was slightly taller than you.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" You growl menacingly, crossing your arms defensively. He just smiles and gently brushes your hair away from your face, smiling softly. He is not gentle. You know about it. He's waiting for your slightest slip or show of weakness.
"I've been trying to contact you for weeks, sending letters, calling, leaving notes, and trying to start a conversation."
"You push me into a limo and molest me." You say, defeating all his attempts to make you feel guilty.
You won't have any Stockholm syndrome. He is the one who pursues you; he is the one who harasses you and won't let you move on after the breakup. He didn't even fucking acknowledge your breakup! The problem was with him, not with you. And you know he saw it fully in your eyes—the certainty that what was between you was far from a healthy relationship. And he doesn't like the direction you're going with your conclusions. That's why he resorts to heavier measures.
You hold back a gasp as he suddenly closes the gap between you with one step and places his hand on your cheek. You let him stroke it tenderly as he leans towards you to whisper seductively in your ear.
"You moaned so beautifully for me that even a deaf person wouldn't think you were forced. Admit that you miss me, just like I miss you. You'll make it easier for all of us."
He pulls away from you just enough to look into your eyes again. You decide to try and play his game and lick your lips, moving your gaze between his eyes and his mouth. You tilt your chin up and lean in, your lips almost brushing against his as you whisper.
"Listen to me carefully, because I'll only say this once. I. Will. Never. Come. Back. To. You. So take a hint and leave me alone." As you finish speaking, you reach for your bag and step away from him. You're walking towards the exit when, halfway there, you hear his quick footsteps behind you.
"Not so fast." He grabbed your wrist and turned you towards him, holding you close to his chest. His eyes turn a raging ocean colour with anger and annoyance at your teasing and mockery. "Do you really want your sister to have to take thousands of exams? Work harder because you couldn't commit one evening to me?"
"Evening?" You ask indignantly and in outrage, at which he laughs.
"Nothing dirty. Although I like your way of thinking..."
"Coriolanus." You interrupt him before he can continue the topic. He rolls his eyes at you, clearly not appreciating you interrupting his fun.
"I need a date for one evening. And after the successful show we put on at the opening of The Hunger Games, people are hungry for... well, more of us. What do you say? Will you find enough courage and willingness to accompany me, my love?"
"And you'll leave Y/S/N alone? No more creating problems for her to get my attention?" You make sure. He smiles... differently. With a strange, dangerous glint in his eye that makes you feel more uneasy than how you were since he pulled you to his chest. And you realise how close he actually is when he leans in, forcing you to look him in the eyes.
"Have I ever broken my promise to you, Y/N?"
"Surprisingly not." You answer after a long moment, trying to remember any such situation. He always did everything he promised for you. You didn't know if it was his advantage or… a more disquieting trait.
"You see. You have my word. I will fulfil everything I promised you, my little petal. Everything." He whispers softly, making you shiver as he gently takes a rose out of his jacket pocket and places it behind your ear. You knew this supposedly sweet act of his very well. It was the importance of his territory.
After his words, there is a long silence between the two of you. You hold your breath, mesmerised, as you stare into his icy-blue eyes. He was always so… composed around you. It was as if he was always able to do and say exactly what he wanted and planned. It was as if your entire interaction was just a game for him, a game he was convinced he couldn't lose. He lost his temper with you only once—when you surprised him with that break up…. but you aren't sure if he acknowledged it.
You come to your senses and out of his strange charm the moment he leans in so close to you that your noses gently brush against each other.
You pull away from him, much to his displeasure, and clear your throat. You keep your eyes on him, and in a challenge—one of the few acts of rebellion you can commit—you reach for the rose in your hair and take it out.
"When and where is this event?" You growl through clenched teeth.
"Friday evening. I'll pick you up at 8 p.m." He says it nonchalantly, putting his hands in his pocket. He acts as if nothing happened, and he was just inviting you to the party. As if he wasn't threatening your sister's future to force you to hang on his arm as an ornament for one evening... or maybe even longer.
"I'll go there myself."
"Not happening. You're coming there with me. Transportation is on me. After all, you're my date. It would look bad in public opinion if I didn't treat you like... a princess." He says it firmly, with a delicate smile on his lips—not the pleasant, warm one, but the cunning, cold one he showed when he won over his opponent. The one you were starting to get used to.
And you think while looking at him that if you were the princess in this story, then he was the dragon, keeping you in your palace or tower away from other people. To make sure you were completely at his mercy.
"I'm not sitting next to you in the limo or any car. And if you lay your hands on me, I will cut them off with those dull knives they serve to people with the dinner." He's more amused by your threat, but nods obediently. He takes a few steps towards you but stops, leaving a decent distance between you.
"I'd like to see you try. But you have to behave yourself. Or little Y/S/N will repeat her first year at university. Are we clear?"
"Yes. And I already have a dress, so don't you dare send me anything, understood?" He chuckles mockingly at your words, his pearly white teeth gleaming in the sunlight. You know him too well to be enchanted by such a sight of him. After all, the wolf seems beautiful too, until it attacks you.
"Perfectly. I can't wait to see you then." He says it in a sweet tone of voice. You shake your head and walk towards the exit. "And Y/N." Reluctantly, you turn towards him, your hand on the doorknob. "If I were you, I would have stopped ignoring my calls."
"Go to hell." You say it in an equally sweet tone of voice as his.
You smile at him and throw a rose towards him, bowing. Just like Lucy Gray. You smile victoriously and walk out, slamming the door behind you. You're glad you were able to finally throw him out of control and get him angry.
You leave the building with your head proudly held high. But the truth is that even though you try to pretend that you are controlling your situation with Coriolanus, the truth is that you are not. And you are absolutely terrified by it.
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"You look beautiful, Y/N." your sister says as you are walking down the stairs of your house. It was Friday evening, and you were waiting for Coriolanus to come pick you up.
"Thank you, Y/S/N. Revise for the exam?" You ask, walking over to the mirror and putting on your earrings. Your long silver dress hugs your curves perfectly, revealing just enough skin that you don't have to worry about feeling Coriolanus' touch on you.
"Yes. I don't have a handsome boyfriend who would take me to the Capitol Gala. I envy you so much."
"You have nothing to envy, honey. Besides, Coriolanus is not my boyfriend. We broke up." You remind her, maybe a little too harshly judging by the way the younger girl flinches. You sigh and walk over to her with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I just... don't like to remind people about it all the time. Coriolanus and I... we are just friends."
"But you were together at the Hungry Games opening ceremony! All my friends say that you two are a sweet couple and are perfect for each other." She says, adjusting the necklace around your neck, at which you smile fondly. You hug her and place a kiss on the top of her head.
"Sometimes people just… aren't meant to be together. Even if they think otherwise, remember how our parents wanted you to start dating John?" You ask, wrapping one arm around her. She winces and flinches at the memory, making you laugh out loud. You haven't laughed honestly in quite a few weeks.
"Is Coriolanus a self-absorbed idiot? That's why you don't want him?" She asks, comparing him to the boy who courted her.
"No. Not at all. He is... extremely attentive." You say it thoughtfully. And maybe other people would take it as a compliment, but to you... it was a dangerous trait. Alarming. Worrisoming.
"Well, anyway, I hope you have a nice evening. Maybe you two can talk, so he'll stop calling and sending you all this stuff. Don't get me wrong, it's nice to get jewellery from you every other day, but it must be... tiring for you if you don't love him anymore."
You smile at that. She was so… innocent; you, too, once were and believed in love. That's why you were with Coryo. He was gallant, elegant, and handsome. A true gentleman. Until he showed his true side—the side you are now afraid of. He was capable of doing many things to make sure he would get what he wanted. And now he wanted you.
"I want you to be careful..." You say, stroking her braids.
"Of what? Overworked because of studying all night?" She asks teasingly, clearly amused by your serious tone and sudden thoughtfulness.
"Of powerful men." The silence in the room after your words clearly makes your sister anxious, as does your depressed mood.
"Y/N... is everything okay?" You put on a fake smile and hug her one last time before putting your shawl around your arms and grabbing your bag.
"Of course. Don't worry about me. I'm going to have a fun night. Study. I promise it will be worth it." You say, placing a kiss on her forehead, and leave the room and house as you hear the car horn.
"Do you enjoy yourself?" Coriolanus asks, leaning in behind you and whispering in your ear as you stand at the table with alcohol and sweets.
"The champagne is delicious." You turn to look at him, to not have him behind your back, and finish the rest of your drink. You lean on the table, setting the glass down as you look at him carefully. "When can I go back home?"
"Just a few more moments, my petal." He places his hands on your shoulders, massaging them gently. You let him, leaning further into his side and closing your eyes tiredly. "Do you like it?"
"You're a poor masseur, but for lack of better hands…"
"I meant tonight. All those people who fawned over you and looked at you with respect and awe. All these women and men who wanted to fulfil your every little wish... don't you like this feeling of power? Superiority? Knowing that they will do anything to gain your favour?"
"You do it every day around me. This is nothing new." You say it dismissively and turn your back to him, taking a piece of cake from the table and eating it.
"I can stop. And I will stop if you keep pushing me away every time I try to get closer to you, every time I put my hand on your waist, every time I lean in to kiss you, and every time you push my hands away from under your dress. If you continue to insist that you are not mine, I will do things you have never imagined... even in your darkest nightmares."
"What do you want so desperately?" You ask him, irritated, putting the empty plate on the table and looking at him with an angry look as you are sick of whatever game he was playing with you.
"You." He says, taking a step towards you and grabbing your chin. He traces his fingers along your jawline, staring at your lips before returning his gaze to your eyes. "We had a good time together. You won't deny it."
"We had. And then you cheated on me." You remind him, feeling furious and hurt.
"It didn't mean anything. I told you. I'm sorry. I could have told you before it happened, let you know what I had to do… or found another way..."
"It does not matter. I don't want you anymore, Coriolanus." You tell him honestly, as you are fed up with everything that has happened between you over the past few months.
"You will change your mind."
"No. I won't." You shake your head, making his confident demeanour fall. He stares at you coldly, processing a plan in his head as he gently tightens his hand on your wrist.
"You'll do it if you still want to matter here. Do you think that if I win, I'll let you work in the lab on secret government projects? After you broke my heart so savagely in front of the entire Capitol? Do you think your family will still be willingly invited to social parties? That your family will have any future?"
"Are you threatening me?"
"I'm warning you. You can either accept me, become my wife and First Lady, or I will make sure you get kicked out of the lab and sabotage all your research for the rest of your life."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Are you sure?" You stared at each other for a moment. You sigh, angry and frustrated, and shake your head, not believing what's happening. "Let's go outside. You could use some fresh air to calm down." Before you can answer him anything, he leads you outside, his hand on your back and suspiciously close to your ass.
You sigh, feeling the cold air of the Capitol on your hot cheeks. Reluctantly, you take Coriolanus' arm as he leads you deeper into the garden to a more secluded spot.
"You wouldn't have a bad life with me. As my First Lady, you would have everything you wanted. I would fund your research. You could leave Dr. Gaul's lab and build your own, not wait for her to die, so you can inherit her legacy. You could have built your own one."
"No, Coriolanus! You can't bribe me! If you really think that I am shallow enough to agree to marry you and to play according to the illusion you have created in your head, then you are delusional. WE. ARE. DONE."
You turn around and try to get away from him. But before you can, Coriolanus grabs your hand and spins you around, causing you to bump straight into his chest.
Before you can even think about slapping him, he captures your lips with his. You moan even more in shock into his mouth when you feel him place something cold on your finger.
You somehow manage to wriggle out of his grip enough so that his hands and mouth can't reach you. You stare at the ring on your finger in shock. A big fucking diamond that probably glows in the dark and you could gouge out his eyes with if you hit him... which you really wanted to do right now.
"What are you doing?! Corio-mph!" He cuts you off with a kiss before you can get anyone's attention with your scream or really hit him.
You struggle against his grip, your nails digging into his arms, but he just groans and pins you to the tree, ignoring the pain you caused him. Before you can even realise where his hands are, he reaches back and unbuttons your dress. The material slides down to your hips, giving him a perfect view of your bare breasts.
You shiver as you watch him lick his lips and lean down to fuck the skin of your collarbone with kisses, holding your hips in an iron grip as he pins you to the tree. The cold air hits your bare skin, in contrast to Coriolanus's hot breath and tongue.
"I missed you." He whispers in your ear as his hands cup the curve of your breasts and squeeze them.
His touch is everywhere, slithering over you and clinging to you like a snake, wrapping itself around you tenderly and greedily, taking advantage of every opportunity he has. His mouth is as dynamic as his hands, biting at the tender spots of your neck, licking and sucking, marking you as his own when all he can think about is your body, pressed against him.
"I can give you everything. The whole world. For your touch, kiss, and moan when you come around me. All you have to do is accept me, me, and our future. It only takes one yes from you to make you my equal... and it only takes one no from you to make me destroy everything you love and everything you know. I will be the only one you can come to and the only person you will remember. I will destroy you if that is the price of having you, Y/N. I promise you that."
His whispered words against your skin, the hot touch of his tongue in all the right places on your neck, his hands teasing your breasts, and your quick, heavy breaths are distracting. You can't think straight, not when he's stimulating your senses, teasing your nipples, or when he's whispering his dark promises you should've been afraid of.
You come to your senses the moment one of his hands cups your abused breasts and slips under your dress, cupping your pussy. His long fingers tease you through the fabric of your panties, collecting the wetness he caused, and that's when the gravity of the whole situation hits you.
"No. Stop it. Stop! Help!" You scream, trying to push him away, but he covers your mouth with his hand brutally, drowning out any screams. You squeal as he presses his knee against your clothed cunt in an attempt to tease you.
You look at him with wide eyes as you freeze when his knee begins to rub against your most sensitive, wet (to your defeat and disgust) at his attention, part of your body.
"It ends only with me inside you, so you can either be a good girl for me or continue to be a stubborn brat and delay and deny us our pleasure. You have no idea how many times I came just from watching you from afar. You have no idea how much I want, crave, and desire you. I can't think or function normally. I can't create any plans without thinking about how wonderfully this tight pussy felt around me and how I need your soft walls to tighten around me again. So shut up and let me bring pleasure to us both, or try to keep fighting. Your stubborn struggle only excites me more, my petal."
To confirm his words, he presses himself against you, making you feel his hardness pressing through his pants and pressing against your lower abdomen. You breathe quickly, trying to think of a way out of this situation. You were in the fucking garden in the middle of a party—the gala of the year! Someone must have come here. He couldn't have just... taken you here.
"So? Will you finally accept your fate and place by my side, or do I need to break you? And trust me… I'll have even more fun."
His hands move to your hips. He changes your position, pressing you against the tree, his length rubbing through his pants against your clothed and wet core. You are trapped.
You could resist him, and maybe he would let you go... but then what? You and your family will be destroyed in the eyes of the Capitol if he wins and becomes president. You'll be finished, and your whole career will go to hell if you don't do it.
So you sigh, defeated. You close your eyes, place your hands on his shoulders, hold him for balance, and nod your head, surrendering to him.
"Look at me." You reluctantly comply, meeting his icy eyes with yours. His pupils are fully dilated, a faint blush decorates his cheeks, and you see the glint of victory and satisfaction in his eyes as he delights in his prey. You. "I need your words, my little petal." You bite your lip, furious that he's making you beg for him like a bitch in heat. As if he wasn't the one who desperately needed you all this time.
"I... please." You spit out, not looking at him. He grabs your neck in his grip and forces you to meet his gaze as his clothed body presses against your naked one, only in panties, your dress having slipped completely off of you at some point in your... conversation.
"Please what? More conviction and self-confidence, darling. Continue to be my little brat."
"Just fuck me, Coriolanus." You say it angrily, meeting his smug look. He smirks cockily, and in one quick movement, he cups the cheeks of your buttom with his hands and lifts you up, pinning you to the tree with his hips. You moan as he rubs against your clothed pussy and squeezes your ass tightly.
"Gladly." He growls, crashing into your mouth hungrily.
You gasp as he tears your panties in half, the cool night air hitting your exposed, hot womanhood. He moves his mouth to your breasts, sucking hickeys there as he teases your slick folds, making you blush with embarrassment at how wet you were for him.
He's not trying to stretch you or prepare you for taking his thick length after... such a long time of separation. The undoing of his belt and the zipper of his pants are the only warnings you get as you feel the tip of his cock with pre-cum rubbing at your entrance.
As he begins to enter you, you lower your head and bite into his neck, ignoring the collar of his shirt that covers most of his skin. Your saliva soaks his shirt as you moan into his neck.
"You know, I could have fucked you raw the day you thought you could leave me. I guess I should've done that. Put you over my knee for being a brat, give you a few spanks to remind you of your place, and fuck the baby inside you so you can focus on something meaningful. After all, your womb belongs to me, as do all of you. Although I don't know if you'd moan as sweetly and loudly as you do now… What kind of feeling is it? Having someone who you swore you despised wholeheartedly inside you? You take me too well, darling. Your smart, stubborn mouth may call me the worst names, but as long as those wet and tight down there welcome me like home, we both know what the truth is. We both know you want it as much as I do." He says, grunting as he pushes his cock into your tight pussy.
You both moan as he buries himself up to his balls inside you.
He grabs your hair and pulls your face away from his neck, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss as he gives you time to get used to the feeling of him inside you again. You mockingly think to yourself that he's waiting because he's afraid he'll finish too soon.
He fucks a line of kisses along your jaw as he begins to move. You hiss, digging your nails into his shoulders as you hold on to him. You think you've made a few little holes in his shirt with your nails, but that's your last concern now as he pounds into you faster and faster.
You both try to be quiet, trying not to attract anyone's attention, although, judging by the loud music coming from inside the building, it's unlikely that anyone will be looking for you. And hearing your grunts and moans is rather a huge challenge, but still, the last thing you want is for someone to walk into both of us...
"Mine. Only mine." Coriolanus growls into your neck; his thrusts are faster and more precise, making you bite your lip to hold back your moans, but he doesn't let you do it for long. He wants to feel and hear all of you. He wants to revel in his victory. That's why he kisses you, biting your buttom lip to the blood. He pulls away and leans his forehead on yours as he listens to the little sounds you make as he fucks the brain out of you. "Can you feel how deep I am? How well am I filling you? You will be a beautiful First Lady. Fuck. My future First Lady. My future wife. The mother of my children." He moans in your ear. You don't answer; you take ragged breaths, listening to the squelch of your joined bodies echoing around this secluded part of the garden.
You think about everything. About how perfectly he fills you, what a bastard he is, how he drives you crazy with his words and moans and touches and thrusts, and how bad it is that you enjoy having sex with him and despise what he has done. But you have some needs too...
Unfortunately, Coriolanus was the only one who could meet them and satisfy you.
"You were meant for me. Just like I was for you. We are the two sides of the same coin… WE. ARE. UNITY." He growls, making one last few hard pushes into you, making you both cum. He captures your lips in a kiss, muffling both of your screams as you fall apart around him, feeling his warm seed flood your womb.
You shake, wrapping your arms around him tightly, trusting him to hold the weight of both of you as you see nothing but white light in your orgasmic haze. You can't feel your legs, but you know you're still clenching them tightly around him. Your mind is empty; you feel amazing, electric bliss, but it is immediately followed by the realisation of what you have done.
You gave yourself to him. You agree to be engaged to him. The entire Capitol will be watching you. You will have to marry him if he wins the elections.
You're snapped out of your thoughts when he starts to move. But you don't open your eyes. You don't want to see him in his post-orgasmic state. You don't want to see his smug smirk and the twinkle in his eyes. You feel him press a kiss on your temple and slowly pull himself out of you, making you both moan.
You shiver as he sets you on your feet, supporting your waist with his hands. You feel how his seed, and your juices are lazily oozing down your thighs, reminding you of what you agreed to. About your deal with the devil.
You whine, grabbing his wrist in protest as he swipes the excess of your combined cum from your thighs and cunt.
"Don't worry, I know your limits." He says, pulling his hand away from your grip and licking it off. He gives you one of his fingers to suck, which you reluctantly agree to as he stuffs it into your mouth. "Good girl."
"Screw you."
He laughs at your hostility and zips up his pants. He reaches for your dress and helps you get back into it. After he rips your panties, you have to go without them, clearly feeling... the effects of your hot little moment.
"And what now?" You ask him as he puts on his jacket and buttons it, trying his best to hide the bloody marks you left on him.
"We go back to the party, I say goodbye to everyone I need to, and we leave. I have some rings for you to try on in my apartment. The one on your finger is only for a moment. It's big enough for them to notice it and start gossiping. You can choose which one you like more. My bed was also rather lonely and cold without you in it." He suggests, seductively, running a finger along your bare arm as he places the straps of your dress over your shoulders, making sure they don't slide down.
"Don't hope for more moments like this. I can play the doting fiancée in front of the Capitol, but behind closed doors, I'm not going to pretend that you're anything more than a pathetic, cold man who needs affection from someone who despises you with all her heart." You growl and push him away from you. You put your heels back on and take out your lipstick, powder, and mirror from your purse, fixing your appearance.
"It didn't look like you despised me when you cum around my cock just a few minutes ago." He points it out and walks over to you. He fixes his hair and yours and offers you his arm once you fix your makeup. You roll your eyes when you see in the mirror that he has tucked a rose behind your ear. AGAIN.
"Oh, shut up. I'd come around anyone. I haven't had sex in months." You say it angrily and place your hand in the crook of his arm as he leads you back towards the building and to the party.
"Same here." You snort derisively, not believing his confession even for a second.
"As if I could ever trust you again. Besides, you can fuck with Cardew and the others as much as you want. I don't care."
"I prefer to be with you, my little petal. Smile. We'll have company soon." He puts his arm around yours, pulling you closer to him as you walk down the path. In fact, Lucky Flickerman comes around the corner, talking with some women and men. They all giggle. The man stops when he sees the two of you.
"Oh... well... it looks like our future president is a womanizer." Coriolanus grimaces at his last word but is clearly happy that Lucky believes in his victory, so he smiles politely at the man.
"Quite the opposite. We just celebrated our engagement." He announces it proudly, and you hear the rest of Flickerman's company gossiping livelyly, watching you even more closely.
For the first time, you appreciate Coriolanus' strong arm wrapped around your waist. It's rather hard for you to stand after what you two did together a few minutes ago. You're glad you were able to finish before the group left for their walk.
"Oh! Congratulations! You have to come to my new show. People will go crazy when they hear about how Capitol's most popular couple is taking the next step in their relationship! And I think we are all very curious about your beginnings. And the wedding will come soon! I guess right after the election, am I wrong? Oh, it doesn't matter, lovebrids. It is indeed an amazing year for the society of Capitol and Panem."
"We will, Lucretius. Maybe as a presidential couple? Who knows... What do you think about it, my darling? Would you like an interview about us?" Coriolanus turns his head and looks at you questioningly, with mock concern and affection in his eyes. Only you can see how false his act is... or at least you think he is just pretending.
You hear one of the women gushing over the look and the way Coriolanus addresses you. The clever bastard plays the card of a guy who is head over heels in love to gain even more sympathy from society before the elections.
"It would be amazing, honey." You reply with a smile, leaning more into him as Flickerman and the others say how adorable the two of you are.
And you just stand there smiling, playing your part as the happy bride. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Coriolanus stealing glances at you, and you can't help but wonder... is he really that good at acting, or is he serious in his desire for you and your feelings?
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Coriolanus's arm wraps around your waist possessively, like a snake, as the two of you pose for photos. Camera flashes blind you, but you keep a fake smile on your lips.
Several months have passed since your... interaction in the garden. You continued to play his loving fiancée in front of the Capitol, but you remained cold and uncaring towards him. You haven't fucked in the garden since then. You made sure to push and move away from him whenever he got too close to you in private.
Luckily, you didn't have to move into his apartment, and you still lived with your parents. You managed to convince him that moving would be pointless if you were about to move into the presidential palace. You prayed every day that this wouldn't happen.
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that he turns his head to look at you. You automatically do the same without thinking much about it. And that's your mistake. When you meet his intense gaze of icy blue eyes... you can't look away. You feel like he's holding you tightly by the chin and forcing you to look into his irises... But how can you look away when you see emotions in his eyes that they would never dare admit to you? And judging by the way it sent photographers into a frenzy as they screamed in excitation, you know you're not the only one who saw it.
You still can't figure out if it's just an act or if he actually has feelings for you. Something more than a sick obsession. Maybe you were really starting to have symptoms of Stockholm syndrome?
He pulls you from your thoughts as he leans towards you to tell you something, trying to shout over the crowd around you.
"Are you ready? Shall we go to our seats?"
You nod at him. He takes your hand in his and leads you inside the building, where the official announcement of the results is to take place. The crowd around you whistles in delight as he sees how protectively he treats you and how he guides you through the crowd while making sure you keep up with his pace and don't follow him. He has you beside him, gently distant away—enough for him to be able to cover you in case of any danger.
He leads you to a place of honour next to Dr. Gaul. He kisses you on the cheek and leaves to take his place on the podium in front of the cameras with the other candidates.
"Nice ring." The woman next to you says, a teasing smirk on her lips.
"He would put a collar around my neck with his name on it if he could. I suppose you would help him with that." You snort indignantly and furiously, at which she laughs.
"I can't deny that I'm rooting for you two." You roll your eyes at her and focus your gaze on Lucky, who opens the event.
You know very well that if he becomes president, you will lose everything. All your freedom. You will have to play the role of his devoted wife and mother to his children for the rest of your life. It is true that you will have funds at your disposal to conduct your own research in the laboratory, but will it make you happy? Could you live like that?
"But there can only be one winner…" Lucky's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You and the entire Capitol are waiting for the results. To hear the name of your new president. "And that is CORIIOLANUS SNOW! Ladies and gentlemen, let's salute our president!"
The world is dying around you. People shout and chant the name of Coriolanus; there is a huge noise of applause and joy. You won't leave your seat. You sit there, frozen, realising the harsh truth. Now, nothing can stop him. He can do anything he wants, and you know damn well that he, like all these people, has no boundaries.
"But where is he? Where is our president?" Before you can look around, you feel hands cupping your face as someone pulls you to the left. Coriolanus' lips crash against yours, and you can only moan into his sudden, passionate kiss and let him do whatever he wants. "Oh, yes, that's where he is! Where else could a man be after hearing that he had won? Of course, at the side of his chosen one, his life companion, and his beloved! This is how it should be, my friends! This is who the Capitol has chosen! A man who loves his woman above all else and shares his joys and sorrows with her. That's the real power, my friends. The power of love. Ladies and gentlemen, our president, who is heading right this way, Coriolanus Snow!"
You don't remember what happened next or what speech he made. Strangely enough, consciousness fully returns to you after a few glasses of champagne and wine. You are standing near the bar, away from the large crowd. Coriolanus is already giving another interview when Dr. Gaul approaches you.
"I warned you." She says, and you raise a questioning eyebrow at her. "When you started dating. That there is nothing more dangerous and beneficial to women than powerful men."
"You knew since then?"
"Of course. He is obsessed with power and control. He had his little songbird, but she ran away. Then he met you and you became his new... love interest or obsession. This boy is hard to read sometimes." He tells you as you both look at Coriolanus. Somehow, he feels your eyes on him. He nods at Dr. Gaul and throws you a smirk before his attention returns to the journalist.
"So... it was never true?" You ask, placing your empty glass on the bar.
"I think he cares about you... on his own way." She tells you, which doesn't make you feel any better. You sigh deeply and order a glass of vodka, which you immediately drink. "Oh, don't be so sad. That's life, my child. My husband was just like him. He was a controlling manipulator, but he had one thing that I didn't, the thing that helped me achieve greatness and be where I am now. To be a legend. An icon."
"And what was that?" You ask resignedly, focusing your attention on her.
"Money. A rich and, above all, powerful man is able to do anything if he is madly in love. And Mr. Snow is a perfect example of this. Tell me... how much money has he already put into you? How much did you get in return for the ounce of attention and closeness he so desperately craves? You didn't want to be a whore, but we women have to act like one sometimes."
"There must be another way." You argue, unable to accept such a… cruel truth, but she just laughs bitterly, mockingly.
"There is not. This is the world of men, my child. It is their pride that guides and makes all important decisions. Behind every man, however, there is a woman who... has the strength to overshadow his pride and direct him the way she wants. Unfortunately, you have to seduce him if you want to get what you want. But I know you. And I know you will be able to do it. I know that you, of all people, are the closest to following my path and carrying my legacy."
"I am not like you." You respond quickly, outraged by the ideas she's giving you and her opinion of you.
"Of course not. There are no women or men like me. Besides, you may become the First Lady. The most powerful woman in all of Panem. Take it. Accept his proposal and the ring that you think will be your prison. Use it wisely. To your advantage. It's a chance that not many of us have. Think about it."
You don't have a chance to answer her. Coriolanus approaches you with a huge smile on his face. He places a quick kiss on your cheek and wraps his hand around your waist before turning his full attention to Dr. Gaul.
"Congratulations, Mr. Snow. Or should I say... Mr. President?" She asks him teasingly with a smug, proud smirk. Eventually, her student became president.
"Dr. Gaul, you, of all people, can call me whatever you want." He responds with extreme happiness—a sight that is truly rare. You also think that he is more clingy than usual.
"I shall leave you two to celebrate then, President Snow." She says it with a smile and walks past you, giving you a wink.
You sigh, which doesn't go unnoticed by Coriolanus. He rubs his hand gently over your back and stands in front of you, leaning against the bar.
"We have to go. Photographers and papparazi are dying to take a picture of us both." He says, adjusting the necklace around your neck. You grab his hand and place it against your neck, staring at him from under your eyelashes as you lean towards him and whisper seductively.
"Don't you want to accept my... very warm congratulations first, Mr. President?"
You see that he is surprised by your behavior. He freezes for a moment in shock, looking at you carefully. He licks his lips as his thoughts race, and you casually run your hand over his vest, supposedly straightening it but actually caressing him gently, especially his abdominal muscles through the fabric of his clothes.
"What do you mean?" He asks shakily, swallowing as you intrude even further into his personal space.
"You know what..." You whisper, pressing your leg against his crotch. He hisses, feeling you rub your knee against his cock, which is hardening from your attention. He looks around the room quickly, relieved to see that no one is looking at you.
"Why such a sudden change?" He asks, quickly grabbing your hand that was getting dangerously close to the waistband of his pants as he begins to lead you out of the party and into a more… secluded room.
"There is no change. I still hate you and despise you. But what can I say... I am very drawn to a powerful man, my darling..." You mock him, calling him cute nicknames as he closes the door behind you.
You gasp, surprised, when he pins you immediately against the door. You feel his length press against your hip as he leans over you to whisper in your ear.
"You're going to fall in love with me again. I promise you this, my little petal." And with that, he captures your lips in a passionate kiss, sealing his oath.
And as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your moan as his hands roam and tease your pussy with his fingers, preparing you for him, you wonder if even despite your dislike for him, he'll be able to do it. After all, he was a powerful man... but you were an equally powerful woman.
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mypoisonedvine · 9 months
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100 random dialogue prompts
truly random, there's a mix of angsty and smutty and fluffy in here. as a result it's nsfw and 18+ :)
"who did this to you?"
"where are you going dressed like that?"
"this isn't enough anymore. I need more of you-- all of you."
"I'm not angry, I just get tired of watching you get hurt."
"don't say stuff like that, it gets me all... confused."
"just lie to me, okay? just this once."
"I never said I didn't feel the same way."
"you should go... before someone sees."
"I hate how you make it impossible to hate you."
"too good for you? don't be ridiculous-- they don't deserve you."
"fuck, do that again... please."
"you promise you're going to behave this time?"
"oh please, you knew what you were doing... you wanted to drive me crazy."
"no, it's not over. it's never over."
"so you're saying even if we were the last people on Earth--?" "nope."
"sooo... is everything supposed to just go back to normal after that?"
"you can't ignore me. not anymore."
"it's not what it looks like!" "is that a picture of me?!"
"you really didn't notice that I was falling in love with you?"
"is this really the last time?"
"I'm sorry, I swear I tried, but I just can't get over you."
"do you really think that toy can replace me?"
"don't tell me how to feel."
"forgive me, but I'm not feeling very patient right now."
"you could do so much better than me."
"what would they think if they saw you right now?"
"I didn't know you could be so obedient."
"you can take it."
"you were never my fallback-- I always wanted you."
"yeah, I want to, but... wouldn't it be weird?"
"don't act like you never thought about it before."
"I wish they could all know about us."
"you're the best mistake I ever made."
"no, I don't hate you... I'm angry, but I don't think I could ever really hate you."
"let's just stop now before anybody's feelings get hurt."
"don't get my hopes up if you're just gonna leave like everyone else."
"I can't let it end like this."
"if you do what you're told, you'll get a reward."
"what's gotten into you? you're being so... naughty."
"I think we're on a first name basis by now."
"don't do that... don't act like you don't feel this too."
"it was never just sex."
"I wish I'd met you sooner."
"you can tell me anything."
"why do we have to get out of bed again?"
"I think this is my favorite way to wake up."
"I was already yours."
"there's no way that was just a one-night thing."
"if you can look me in the eye and tell me you want me to go, I'll go."
"has anybody else ever made you feel like this?"
"it feels like we were made for each other."
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry, and I miss you."
"I have an idea to make them jealous."
"just one more kiss?"
"do you really expect me to believe this is what you want?"
"if you say you're happy with them, I'll believe you. or at least I'll try to."
"I can think of a more fun way you can thank me."
"no, I'm in charge tonight, remember?"
"if you keep doing that, this might end a little too soon."
"hey, you lost the bet, fair and square."
"stop imagining it!" "I'm sorry, but I can't get it out of my head!"
"it's too bad we never did. we would've been great together."
"I never thought I'd hear you talk like that."
"oh, fuck me--" "okay." "what? it's just a figure of speech..."
"were you joking? I wasn't joking."
"admit it: you had a crush on me!"
"I just need you to hold me right now."
"friends can cuddle, right?"
"I wouldn't have picked this for movie night if I'd known it had so many sex scenes..."
"they're great but... they're not you."
"I always thought it would be me and you in the end."
"you're not actually trying to convince me that was a friendly kiss, are you?"
"if you hate me so much, how come you keep coming back?"
"do you remember getting drunk and calling me last night?"
"I'm free tonight if you still need a date for that thing you're going to."
"I'd do anything for you."
"I think I finally get what all those love songs are about."
"it's weird being here again... so many memories."
"I wish you'd give me a chance."
"I never meant to hurt you."
"just come to dinner with me. it doesn't have to be weird."
"seeing you with them made me realize you should be with me."
"just ask yourself for once: what do you want?"
"okay, okay, I'll leave-- as soon as I can find my pants."
"we need to be more careful next time."
"wait, why are you in my bed? did we...?"
"I took you for granted, I know. but I want to treat you right this time."
"kiss me like you mean it."
"keep the lights on, I want to see you."
"is it just me, or does your celebrity crush look a lot like me?"
"we promised we wouldn't let this affect our friendship."
"no, don't cry-- if you start crying, I'll start crying!"
"I want to see my marks on you tomorrow."
"don't act innocent, it's not going to work with me."
"is this really turning you on? I'm not even doing anything."
"come look at the stars with me."
"I lov--" "no, don't say anything. you'll kill the moment."
"what happens next in your fantasy?"
"I probably shouldn't tell you this but... you were in my dream last night."
"why do you still wear the hoodie I left at your place?"
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qqueenofhades · 1 month
Note
Leaving aside possible reversals, disasters, doom & gloom, can we take a moment to savor the Trump meltdown over Harris/Walz and the momentum that makes a possible blue tsunami seem an entirely plausible outcome? I'd love to give you the space to ramble about it if you'd like, as my current fandom at least for the moment has shifted back to US politics (but not, for the first time in a while, to doom scrolling politics!).
Aha, I feel as I have probably already said most of my current thoughts, but here are a few things that really make me desire a heaping helping of butt-whooping blue wave in November:
The state that has had the most volunteer sign-ups since Harris took over the ticket? Fucking Florida, with over 18,000. The Villages, formerly a hotbed of Trump support (and y'know, probably still is), also had a major pro-Kamala event, and she is allegedly up 15 points in Miami-Dade (after Biden won the county by 7% and lost the state only by 3%). Now, we all know that Obama won Florida twice, but it has become such a symbol of retrograde Trumpian/DeSantisian politics that winning there would be literally seismic. I'm not going so far as saying that it's in PLAY play, but let's just hold onto that happy, happy idea.
Likewise the poll I mentioned the other day, where Trump is struggling to break 50% in Ohio, once a swing state and now also reliably red. The fact that this is Vance's home state and he's dragging the ticket down every single time he opens his mouth, thus offering the smallest sliver of hope that Ohio (which DID legalize abortion and weed by major margins last year) could also go blue? Incredible. Amazing. Showstopping.
Harris is also tied with Trump (46%-46%) in North Carolina and there is a lot of chatter about how the terrible GOP governor candidate could give a boost to Democratic turnout statewide.
The Mormons have apparently announced their intention to abandon (or at least support much less than they usually do) the Republican presidential ticket in 2024. Remember when Obama won Indiana in 2008? In my wildest dreams, I imagine Utah going blue in 2024. It won't but shh.
Basically, where we were braced for another agonizing nail-biting grind-it-out three-day election determined by a few thousand votes in key states (because etc etc the Electoral College sucks) we are now looking at the very real possibility that Harris wins at least one state, and possibly more, that Biden didn't, and which have been seen as out of reach for Democrats since Trump came on the scene. I don't think I need to counsel anyone against complacency, because we're all too damn scared for that, but yeah. Polls, even the good-looking ones that we like, don't vote. They are still skewed and subjective and do not represent the actual reality, whatever that may end up being. The Republicans and the media will be trying their absolute goddamnfuckingest to ratfuck us again in the 80-something days that remain, but:
WE CAN DO THIS, WE WILL DO THIS, WE MUST DO THIS.
WHAT IS THIS.... JOY SCROLLING? FOR AMERICAN POLITICS? IN THE YEAR 2024 WITH DONALD TRUMP ON THE TICKET FOR THE FUCKING THIRD TIME?
UNPOSSIBLE.
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Note
Let me just say, I absolutely adore your writing so much!! Your More Than Anything series with Vox is honestly one of, if not my favorite Vox series!!!❤💙 I was wondering if you could do a kind of silly, fluffy imagine with Vox where they're in their early stages of flirting/crushing and the reader avoids the topic of kissing... because they think Vox isn't able to kiss with his screen? Literally before episode 8, the question in my mind was "Can the dorky TV man kiss?" And then we got confirmation he most DEFINITELY could 🤣 I just think it'd be so cute and funny for that to be something the reader was wondering as well but wasn't sure how to ask him about it without being weird lol
Oh my goodness, such high praise aaaa! I actually have a scene in my Ao3 fic based on the same concept! I'd be happy to write some awkward smoochums! This guy is such a fucking dork and I love him.
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Assumptions [Vox x Reader Fluff]
You and Vox had been dating for a month and the overlord was on the verge of insanity. He knew that Valentino had much more intense needs when it came to physical affection than most, but he wasn't expecting such a drastic shift in needs when it came to you.
He knew that being in a real relationship was very different from what he'd experienced before with his fellow overlord. But he thought the two of you would have done something by now. Not even necessarily sex. (Although he'd definitely been fantasizing about that more than he cared to admit.)
The two of you had cuddled, slept in the same bed, and even h*ld h*nds, but you hadn't kissed yet and it wasn't for his lack of trying. He'd invited you on romantic dates and set up several perfect opportunities. But whenever he'd try to go for it, you'd always pull away before he had the chance.
He didn't understand. The two of you had been doing so well. You always seemed to be swept up in the little heated moments just as much as he was, so why?!
Vox had been completely distracted during his entire news segment and groaned as slipped into his secluded dressing room. If it wasn't for the fact that he caught sight of you in his mirror, he probably would have flipped out when he felt your arms slip around him from behind.
"What are you doing here?" he chuckled as he lifted a hand to rest on one of your arms.
"I missed you," you smile, squeezing him gently before letting go. "And I saw that..." you cringe. "Performance. You seemed off. Is something on your mind?"
Vox's eyes widened and he cursed himself mentally for putting on a subpar show in front of the camera. If you noticed, then the audience probably did as well. No one really gave half a fuck about the news, but ratings were ratings.
"It's nothing," Vox muttered. "It's just..."
He looks up at you with an unreadable expression and you gasp as he reaches up and gently takes hold of your chin. His brow furrows as he tucks your hair behind your ear and your heart races a million miles per second as he searches your blushing face for something. His eyes flick down to your lips and he slowly starts to lean, only for you to suddenly push him away.
"A-Anyways I just wanted to check in on you and see if we were still on for a movie tonight," you stammered.
Vox froze, not listening to your ramblings as he processed your deflection. He felt a sharp, cold sting of rejection in his chest and wondered if maybe you weren't as interested in the relationship as he hoped. His heart started to break, but then he noticed the way you were blushing.
"Why?" He asked quietly.
"Well, I just thought maybe you wanted to-"
"No," Vox grit his teeth as he grabbed you by the shoulders. "Why the fuck won't you kiss me? Every time I try, you pull away. We're dating, so why?"
You blinked up at him owlishly, your jaw hanging open before you grabbed his arms and breathed, "You can kiss?!"
Vox's brow furrowed as he looked you over, "Wh- The fuck are you on about? Yes, I can fucking kiss! I've been trying to kiss you for the past three goddamn weeks!"
You gasped before burying your face in your hands and groaning. "Oh my god, I thought... There were a couple times that I wondered, but this whole time I didn't think you could and I didn't want to be weird and..."
Vox stood taller as he processed your words. You didn't hate him. You weren't repulsed by him. You were just...
He burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he absolutely lost it. "O-Oh my god! You're such a fucking idiot!"
Your face was burning with embarrassment. You knew he wasn't being malicious, but you were still mortified at the misunderstanding. "Oh shut up! It's not my fault you're a flat-faced fucker!"
You were about to go bury your shame into the couch, fully expecting him to hold this against you for the rest of the day, but you were barely able to take two steps before Vox intervened.
You let out a startled yelp as you felt his claws wrap around your arm and yank you back. In the split second it took you to blink, he'd trapped you against a wall. You flinched as his hands slammed against either side of your head, trapping you as he grinned down at you.
"You are so fucking stupid," he snickered.
Your face only grew warmer as your heart pounded with mixed anger, embarrassment, and something else entirely due to the position he had you in. His hand traces lightly over your cheek before cupping the side of your face as he looks at you with the softest expression you'd ever seen from him.
You gasp as he leans down and presses his lips against yours. Your entire body feels like tiny fireworks are dancing lightly over your skin. You shiver as your hands instinctively reach up to grasp at his vest when he pulls you close.
You're both breathing much harder than is necessary when he pulls away. For a moment you just look at each other with half-lidded gazes as you process the sparks that just metaphorically and literally flew. You were pretty sure a bulb went out due to the little bits of blue energy that sparked off of your boyfriend during the kiss.
Speaking of your dork, Vox breathlessly grinned as he squeezed your arms. He let out a small laugh before stepping away from you and turning as more little sparks flew.
"Fucking finallyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" Vox yelled as he pumped his arms in the air and kicked his legs like a giddy child.
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mythicmanuscripts · 1 month
Note
So, what are your thoughts about Aemond and reader’s first time, considering all his past experiences with the brothel and all (I don’t know if that too vague, if it is, I’ll try to be more specific next time haha)
I love this question! Also, I don't think this is too vague but thank you for checking!! For future reference and also for everyone else, if you had just asked for something like "write Aemond and reader sleeping together" or "write Aemond x reader smut" then I'd say there's not enough to go on. Hope that makes sense!!
Anyway, NSFW sub!aemond below the cut :))
This ask is in reference to the brothel scene where Aemond admits that Aegon essentially forced him to sleep with a sex worker when he had just turned 13.
I'm sure I've babbled on about what I'm about to say before but oh well here we go again: I think that a big part of Aemond's discomfort with the sex worker wasnt just because he was being forced to lose his virginity but because of how utterly exposed he felt? We all know how closed off and composed Aemond always tries to be, and we know he has plenty of insecurities both from his missing eye and from being the second son. The concept of sex as a whole had always felt uncomfortable and far too vulnerable. To lay completely naked with another? Aemond couldnt imagine a scenario where that wouldnt feel terrifying.
And then he turns 13 and Aegon shoves him into a brothel and all his worst fears are confirmed. The sex worker's eyes shamelessly travel across his body and he has to fight the urge to wrap a blanket around himself. The lights are too harsh, he can hear other people having sex outside the room. r
When he leaves there he's convinced he'll never lay with another again. He even decides that he'd let his future wife fuck the first blond hair man they can find and call the resulting child his heir because he couldnt bring himself to be the exposed again.
But then Alicent introduces him to you and you throw a rather large wrench in his plans because you don't do any of those things that left him feeling exposed?
Even before the wedding, you're always checking his boundaries and ensuring you abide by them. If he seems uncomfortable you step away and you ask. And beyond that, you form a real, genuine bond with him that he's never had with anyone before never mind with a romantic partner.
The truth is that Aemond just really loves being around you? He doesn't even notice his walls beginning to crumble because he just feels so safe with you. For the first time he's not constantly having to prove himself.
You're shocked by how different he is to how everyone else had warned you he'd be. You don't see an ounce of the danger and dominance so many others had warned you off, hell even his own mother warned you of. But those traits have always been due to a fight for survival, due to him having to come out on top or risk being ridiculed or worse.
So when you come along and you make it so that he doesn't have to fight for love and respect and recognition? Then all that violence and anger slips away because he doesn't need it here.
You start out VERY slow.
Aemond can best be described as almost skittish when it comes to sex and intimacy. He likes it, but the moment something moves just slightly too quickly he's jumping up and going to hide in his own private chambers.
The first time you kiss him after the wedding, he very nearly starts crying because you just kiss him so gently with absolutely no indication of wanting to go any further than that. Aemond realises he could happily spend hours like that, with the two of you laying together and trading soft kisses.
He tells you about the sex worker eventually, maybe Aegon actually makes a comment about it? Like a few weeks into the marriage Aegon decides to tease Aemond and ask him if he still goes back to his first or if he's actually fucking his wife. (Aegon promptly sprints out the room immediately after saying this because the look in your eyes when you turned to look at him was absolutely terrifying)
So he opens up about the sex worker with you, and he full on sobs when you say he deserved better and that he deserved to feel safe, that sex should always feel safe.
From then, you put a lot of time and effort into ensuring that your chambers together becomes that warm, safe place aemond was missing. You only approve 3 servants who are allowed into your chambers with Aemond, and only 2 are allowed in at a time. No servants can come into the chambers unprompted either. If you want the sheets cleaned or the laundry taken to be washed, then you will call one of the 3 approved servants but servants are not allowed to do those things on their own, only when you request it.
Once that's been sorted you start getting the rooms themselves into a better state. You keep candles all over the walls, get the softest blankets and pillows you can. Maybe you also get some of his favourite books to put up? It's a slow, gradual change but Aemond notices every single change and every time his breath it taken away at how perfect you are. He never even had to explain how vulnerable he was the first time, you just knew and you knew how to make him feel comfortable.
The actual sex takes longer of course, and there's plenty of oral and makeup sessions before he's ready for more, but when you do get to the main event he can't believe how good he feels?
The way you praise him and check in on him brings tears to his eyes, and when you gently wrap a blanket around his shoulders while you stroke him he really does cry. Just that simple gesture of putting the blanket over him makes him feel so much less exposed.
Sex is always a calm, quiet affair with Aemond. Make no mistake, you certainly get edge him and overstimulate him and all that fun stuff, but that's never with standard sex. If you're doing those other things then you're either pegging him or using your hands/mouth. The actual act of sex, that is always gentle. It's the gentleness that really breaks him.
(One quick sidenote to end off: cockwarming, how the flying fuck have we never discussed it? I'm now now picturing a scene where it's the first time you go the whole nine yards, but then from the moment Aemond slowly enters you, he just stays still? At first you think he's trying to get used to the feeling but when even more time has passed and he still hasn't moved, you ask him that's going on and that's when he kinda just collapses into your, his cock still inside and mumbles about how nice this feels. So needless to say, actual sex was not achieved that day)
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catlvrmax · 3 months
Text
RACE DAY & NIGHTCLUBS.
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MV1 X FEM!READER
summary it's race day! you and amara decide to spend your sunday night out in the city. you make new friends in the process.
cw ONE use of [Y/N] - it was inevitable. idk the deets of how f1 works exactly, but i tried. this is a work of fiction: i don't know these people irl, i don't know how they act. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER.
face claims girls on pinterest, but you can obviously disregard them, and imagine whoever you want. (the pictures are for aesthetic purposes.)
a/n i feel like the alonso scene is kinda useless but idk i put it in ite.
masterlist | taglist
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"I'm so excited!" Amara squealed as you grabbed her wrist to keep her close.
Today is race day. You woke up early, buzzing with anticipation. Amara tried to (poorly) contain her excitement and constant giggles until you had at least one cup of coffee in your system but failed ten minutes into breakfast. You don't blame her—she loves the sport.
She also loves the drivers. Loves the gossip and the drama on and off track. A new thing she has picked up, one you really want to put a stop to, is teasing you about a certain Dutchman. It was already bad enough that your conversation kept replaying in your head, and her playful teasing increased the thoughts of the two-time world champion.
You tolerated it on the walk to the circuit, rolling your eyes at her dreamy sighs and romantic scenarios, which she mostly made up to annoy you but changed the subject as you approached your destination. You refused to look or sound like a crazy fangirl in case... well, in case of actually running into him.
Arriving at the circuit and checking in the paddock had been a nightmare. You and Amara were not huge fans of crowded places you more than her, and the heat of the sun beating down on you made it ten times worse. Alas, you finally found yourselves away from the masses and around the corner of the Aston Martin hospitality building.
Amara was not paying attention to where she was going, and you were listening intently to the plans for the day. At the last minute, you saw a green shirt from the corner of your eye. You pulled on her wrist, and she stumbled towards you, but not before softly colliding with the side of the tall man in the green shirt.
"Oh, shit. ¡Lo siento, señor!" The apology comes in Spanish. (I am sorry, sir!)
"Esta bien, señorita? I was not looking in my path." You try to catch your jaw from falling to the ground when you eye the Green Shirt Guy. (Are you okay, miss?)
That's Fernando fucking Alonso. Fernando Alonso, the man you may or may not have a tiny crush on, is helping Amara stand up after she bent over to grab her discarded water bottle.
"Ah, si. Lo siento, señor Alonso. Estaba mostrando a mi amiga alrededor—"
"It's you from yesterday, no?! The girl with the great, uh, Spanish skills!" He talks to her as if they've known each other for years.
You stand there stunned, trying to compose yourself as your F1 crush stands before you, casually conversing with your best friend. Amara must be ready to explode right about now. You would laugh if you weren't fighting the urge to scream and run around from the joy.
You hear your name fall from Amara's lips, and your gaze focuses back on them. "That's my best friend. I gave her the hat!"
Fernando nods, his gaze on you as a polite smile causes his dimples to appear. You show him the signed Aston Martin cap by tilting your head.
"Amara said you are a big fan. I appreciate it. Do you want to take a photograph?"
"Uh-Yeah! Yeah, I'd love to!" You take your phone out. Oh-em-gee. Oh-em-gee. Is this really happening? "It's nice to meet you, sir!" You can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks.
Fernando, being taller than you, asks for your phone. He raises it above your head and takes a couple of selfies. You muster the brightest smile, copying his funny faces and poses. When he hands it back, thank yous stumble from your lips faster than any car on the grid.
"Mucha suerte para ti hoy!" (Best of luck to you today!)
Fernando laughs but bows his head in appreciation. "Muchas gracias, querida." He turns to Amara, who's watching you both with a smile. "Enjoy the race, girls!"
And with that, he's walking away. You and Amara stand still for a few seconds, watching him disappear around the corner. You lock eyes, jaws on the floor. Squeals escape the both of you as you grab each other for support.
"Oh, my fucking God! We just—I—You—"
"I talked to Fernando fucking Alonso, and you took a photo with him. Shit!" Her tone betrays her disbelief.
"Oh, pinch me, 'mara, because this can't possibly be fucking real!" You cup your red cheek with one palm. "He remembered you. That's crazy!"
Amara giggles. "We talked in Spanish yesterday, and he told me he was impressed by my fluency!"
You smack her arm, suppressing a smile. "What? Why didn't you tell me all of that!? From past experiences, your Spanish has been shit."
She gasps dramatically, feigning offence. "How dare you, missy?! My Spanish is almost perfect. I just happened to get nervous around native speakers!"
You laugh and raise your hands in surrender, muttering my bad. Amara links her elbow with yours. "Are you ready to watch twenty cars go in weird-shaped circles?"
"Yup," you answer, popping the p before pulling her towards the building you will be watching from. "He is hotter in person." You cannot help but add.
Amara rolls her eyes but hums in agreement.
"Max Verstappen wins the Spanish Grand Prix! Another flawless performance by the current World Champion!"
You can't help but smile as the camera cuts to his team celebrating. Amara claps in delight, gathering her scattered things from the table to put inside her bag. The VIP room you watched the race from is slowly emptying as everyone walks down to where the celebration will take place. Amara wants to go and get as close as she can to the front, so she can take pictures of the podium. Lewis Hamilton came second, followed by George Russell, and your best friend was beaming and eager to see the podium from up close.
"You don't have to come with me. It's pretty tight there, with the crew, and fans, and stuff." You nod, thankful to her for not forcing you to tag along. "You can wait by the Red Bull hospitality. I think it's closer to the exit." She pauses as you stand from your seat. "And who knows. Maybe a Dutchman will pass by, and you deliver on your plan."
You huff at her wiggling eyebrows. "Seems kind of impossible since Max is celebrating on the podium, 'mara. You have a better chance at meeting him." You snort at her deflated expression.
"Oh, yeah, you're right." She shrugs. "Well, who knows? You might bump into each other again."
"I highly doubt that. Now, give me everything you don't need. I'll put it in my bag. I don't want you losing anything in that crowd."
Amara hands you her handbag and kisses you on the cheek before walking away. You're the only guest in the room now, accompanied by the bartender on the other side of the room. You contemplate staying here or leaving for the Red Bull hospitality. The track fills with fans, as is the ground below the podium. Lewis and George are already there, which means that—
"Here's Max Verstappen, the winner of this year's Spanish Grand Prix." Crofty, the commentator, announces the champion's arrival at the podium's top step.
He looks handsome, with a smile decorating his face and high cheekbones glistening with sweat. He waves at the crowd and takes his Pirelli hat off. His hair is messy, but it just makes him look hotter. Wow. You need to stop, or you'll salivate all over the bloody floor. You turn away from the TV as the Dutch national anthem starts playing.
One thought keeps repeating as you walk out of the building and to the sunny paddock. Max Verstappen is undoubtedly handsome.
You're aimlessly pacing in front of the Red Bull building, skipping through the pictures you'd taken. Most of them were of Amara posing in front of different buildings, eating or walking. You don't notice a chest heading your way until it's too late, and you collide. Ouch, you mumble as you rub your forehead.
"We should stop meeting like this." You recognise the voice immediately. How could you not? The man has been plaguing your thoughts.
Your heart is racing. You don't meet Max's eyes at first, hoping that a simple apology will make him walk away. "Oh, sorry. Wasn't paying attention."
"Are you lost again? Do you need help?" Max is quick to offer, but you shake your head negatively.
A hand comes forward, a featherlight touch on your elbow. You finally meet his gaze, rubbing on the spot that stings. What the fuck is he made of? Rock? His eyes hold concern as they rake over your face.
"What are you made of? Rock or something? That stung!" You offer a shy smile and a joke, for his worried expression makes your palms sweat.
He returns the smile. "Hey! You were the one not paying attention."
You shrug. "I was looking through the photos I've taken." You raise the old camera for him to see.
"Oh, yeah? Any cool ones?" He asks, stepping closer to you to see.
You notice a man behind the driver, wearing a Red Bull polo and an impatient expression. Anxiety sparks at your chest. He's got somewhere to be. Leave him alone. "Don't you have media duties to attend? You did just win a race." His smile turns guilty at your words.
"Yeah. I've got to change from this," he points at his racing suit," and attend interviews." He doesn't look too excited to do so.
"Well, then, I shouldn't be keeping you." You move a step back, nervously glancing at the other man.
Max does as well, the flush on his cheeks bolder than before. He opens his mouth, and you watch him have an internal war with himself before he decides to voice whatever thought he has. He motions to the man to go ahead without him. I'll be there in a minute, he mutters.
"I'd love to see those photographs."
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you know you look like a fish as your mouth opens and closes. Your face heats up. "Uh—They're really nothing special. This is an old camera."
Max shrugs. "Why don't you give me your number? I can be the judge of that." Oh, shit. You nod.
He does an immaculate job of looking confident as if this isn't affecting him. A pretty girl agreed to give him his number. It's dangerous for a person with the number of young fans he has to give his phone number to a stranger, but he feels he can trust you. You haven't given him a reason to think you might be a crazy fangirl.
"D'you have a pen? I don't have my phone with me." You nod, rummaging through your handbag to find the emergency glittery pink pen.
Once you pull it out, Max can't help but comment on it. "Nice colour." You send him a playful glare.
He stretches his palm, and you softly pull his fingers closer. You scribble down your number, writing your first and last name underneath it. Max feels remorseful for not even having asked you your name. He knows that you no doubt know who he is now. He repeats it, and your breath hitches. He says it so perfectly, you might melt in a puddle. Caaaaaalm down. You sound insane. He's just stating your name.
"Pretty name," he thinks out loud. You don't believe you were meant to hear that, yet your face grows a shade darker.
Before you can say anything, the man shouts his name from the building's door. "Come on, mate! You're going to be late!" You can see the disappointment Max feels from his deflated smile.
"I have to go. Media duties." You chuckle when he rolls his eyes and nod. "I'll, uh, text you. For the pictures." He takes a step back, eyes locked with yours.
"For the pictures, yeah."
His face is flushed. You blame the race he just won. It's a poor excuse to give someone your number, no matter how famous they might be, yet you did. Amara will have a field day with this information. You half expect her to revive her old Tumblr account for the sake of acting on her scenarios.
"Bye." You wave, and he waves back, exchanging bashful smiles.
You watch his figure approach the man by the door when it hits you. "Oh, Max!" He turns quickly, eyes searching for yours. "Congratulations on your win!"
His eyes crinkle from the smile that he gives you. "Thank you!" He adds your name, and you don't deny it this time; Max Verstappen is extremely handsome, especially when he smiles.
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MESSAGES: two. From > unknown number.
unknown number
hey, it's Max!
Verstappen. The guy in
the RB shirt.
you
hm... i don't know anyone
with this name. sorry!
max verstappen
Two-time world champion?
you
nope.
never met any world champions
in my life, sorry.
max verstappen
I helped you yesterday
and saw you today outside of
the RB hospitality.
This is [Y/N], right?
you
🤣 yes!
i'm just messing with you max!
max verstappen
*phew* had me thinking you
gave me the wrong number
you
*dramatic gasp*
i am NOT that cruel, mr verstappen!
btw, i havent transferred the photos yet!
camera's charging.
max verstappen
That's totally okay!
Soooo, what are you doing tonight?
you
contemplating whether i should share my
whereabouts with a random man....
max verstappen
HEY! you've met me!
two times already!!!
you
and how do i know this is the REAL
Max Verstappen????????
max verstappen
....you gave me your phone number.
you
oh, yeah. that makes sense.
i'm very sleep deprived haha
max verstappen
😂😂
you
Soooo, what are you doing tonight?
  ↪ to answer your previous question,
me and my bff are going clubbing
in Barcelona!
max verstappen
Oh, that sounds fun!
you
i'm secretly terrified of getting lost
in the city, but hey! i'm only here for another
night. might as well have fun
plus, i've heard Spaniards party hard!!!!!
max verstappen
plus, i've heard Spaniards party hard!!!!!
   ↪ THAT'S TRUE. Carlos is an
expert in all things nightclub when we're
here for the GP
you
you have any places to recommend?
amara is still looking on trip advisor
max verstappen
😨 TRIP ADVISOR?
you
WELL WE HAD TO START SOMEWHERE
max verstappen
the Vault is a really great place. Great
drinks and the DJ plays nice songs.
You should try that one!
you
i'm guessing it's expensive
as fuck
max verstappen
not as expensive as it is packed
BUT there's always the Disco Diva
and other clubs down that street
you
max verstappen, you know your
clubs, i see.
(the disco diva? really?)
max verstappen
you caught me ahahahahah
(the disco diva? really?)
   ↪ it plays really cool stuff
you
it plays really cool stuff
   ↪ i trust ur judgement.
so what are YOU, race winner, doing
tonight?
max verstappen
how do I know I'm not giving away
my location to a super crazy
fangirl?
you
you dont! YOU wanted MY number.
soooo.... 🤷🏻‍♀️
max verstappen
LOL. you're funny.
so what are YOU, race winner, doing
tonight?
  ↪ I was thinking of gaming, but the
boys want to party.
you
WELL, YAH! you totally deserve to let loose!
max verstappen
Hm, I might think about it.
Ha! Maybe we'll find each other in the club!
you
hahahahah it would be pretty embarrassing
if i ran into you again.
for the third time.
have fun with whatever you choose
to do, Maximus Verstappen.
max verstappen
that is definitely NOT my first name.
but i thank you, schat 😁
seen, now.
"Who are you talking to?" Amara asks, her eyes glued on TripAdvisor.
"H-Huh?" You barely register her words, fingers tapping on your screen incredibly fast.
"You've been giggling for, like, ten minutes now. I'm assuming it's not your mom. She's probably having lunch."
"Oh, you know. Just this guy I bumped into today. You might know him. His name's Max. Ma—"
"Fucking Verstappen?!" Amara all but yells, sitting up swiftly.
Your eyes meet her shocked expression, and you can't help the chuckle that escapes at her priceless reaction. You shrug in response, feigning nonchalance. Truth is, your best friend has hyped this guy up a lot, and your poor heart beats somewhat faster now that you're talking to him.
"You told me to get his number, didn't you?"
"W-Well—Yeah. But I didn't actually think you'd do it!"
You gasp as if offended. "You dare think so little of me? Think that I wouldn't honour my promise to feed your delusions?"
Amara laughs, lightly smacking your arm. "Okay, weirdo. Tell me what the fuck happened."
After pushing yourself to a sitting position, you tell her every detail of your second meeting with the world champion, including the texts. Amara's reactions are comical. At the end of your story-telling process, she's sitting there, with her jaw mere inches from touching the ground.
"So, do you think we'll meet him in that nightclub?"
You shrug. "I don't know. He said he'd think about it." You show her your phone, scrolling to the text he had sent you mere minutes ago. "Doesn't sound that eager to me."
"Well, it wouldn't hurt to go by the Vault, or whatever its name was." Amara wiggles her eyebrows.
"Are you trying to get me laid with a celebrity?"
She grimaces. "Pfft. He's hot. You're pretty. If you take out the millions on Instagram—" "—and his bank account." Amara shoots you a pointed look. "He looks like a pretty normal guy." She exhales before continuing. "You should have fun. We didn't come here just for me. And he seems like a lot of fun."
Amara wasn't wrong. Yes, you had come here for the Grand Prix, which was her thing, but there was plenty of time for you to have fun. And if fun meant drinking and meeting with an extremely handsome guy, who were you to refuse? You'd probably never see him again, either.
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"Finally!" You shout excitedly.
After waiting for a solid thirty minutes in a very long line outside of Club Vault and paying an entry fee that you're sure is way too expensive, you have finally made it inside. The place is flooded with people drinking, dancing, and talking. The lights are dim, and the music loud; a promising, fun night.
You barely dodge swaying on the dancefloor as Amara drags you to the bar. She orders for you while you look around. The DJ and his setup is on a balcony, above which there is a VIP sign. You squint your eyes as another face comes into view. Is that...Lando Norris?
You blindly reach for Amara, turning her around by the wrist. "Hey, isn't that Norris?"
Despite the ear-deafening music, you're able to hear your best friend's gasp. "Oh, my fucking God! Yes, that's him!" She looks at you, a knowing smile on her lips. "Does that mean that he's here—"
"I don't know!" The bartender nods at you, showing you your drinks. "Let's drink!"
And that's exactly what you do. Your drinks are cold enough to help with the heat of dancing, and you can't lie, Lando—with the help of the actual DJ—plays decent music. Max was right about the place being fun. Amara is doing her weird dance moves, and you're copying her, trying to best her.
You're two drinks in, back turned to the DJ booth, when your best friend's eyes widen, dance moves faltering, and you hear everybody cheer. She elbows you to turn around, and your breath hitches: it's Max. He's actually here with Lando and the DJ. And your heart is racing with excitement. He waves at the crowd below, and everyone cheers louder.
Your lip twitches as an idea forms in your mind. Taking your phone out of your boot (an extremely smart and safe place to hide it—if it fits—btw), you snap a picture of the champion, sending it to your chat.
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MESSAGES: two. To > max verstappen.
you
one file attached.
just found your lookalike!
max verstappen
THATS ME! WhEere are yoU?!?!8@
you
how much have you had to drink? lol
max verstappen
not drunk .
just shvoing past poepel to get to you
where re uoy?????
you
by the bar
max verstappen
real helpful
you
im wearing black?
seen, now
You wait a couple of seconds for the grey bubble to appear. When you don't receive a response, you shrug, putting your phone back in its hiding spot. Your gaze focuses on Amara; she's biting her lip while holding two shots in each hand.
"I stole them!" is all she says.
Your jaw drops, and you giggle, accepting the tiny glasses. You yell cheers before chugging down both of them. Tequila. Nice.
You take a step back, eyes blinking away tears caused by the burn in your throat. You don't realise you've stepped into someone's toes until a shout almost bursts your eardrums.
"Jesus Christ!" You yell, covering the side of your head.
Turning around, you're faced with the one and only; Max Verstappen, holding on to the bar railing with a pained expression. Your eyes almost bulge out of your skull.
"Oh, shit! Are you okay?" You can barely hear yourself.
He nods, throwing a smile your way. "Yeah, I'm good! It's nice to see you!" You're barely able to read his lips.
A pinch on your lower back startles you, and you turn around with a gasp. Amara's standing there, expectant, wide eyes moving from you to Verstappen.
"Oh, Max! This is my best friend, Amara!"
She smiles politely, shaking his offered hand. "Nice to meet you!" You wonder if she's close to passing out from internal fangirling.
His eyes return to you. "Hey, you wanna join my table?"
Shaking your head with a confused grimace, you shout. "I can't hear anything you're saying!"
"What?!"
"I can't hear any—"
It's futile to communicate this way, he decides. Max's slightly cold hands are suddenly pulling on your wrists, gently guiding you closer to him. Goosebumps take over your entire body, forearm burning as he moves his fingers to your elbow, keeping you steady, and he leans toward your ear.
"Wanna join me and my friends?" He feels your breath hitch and pulls back to meet your hesitant gaze.
"We don't want to bother you," you say once you pull him down.
Max shakes his head. "Nonsense! I won the race, and I want to celebrate with my friends."
He hears your breathy chuckle. "We're friends, now?"
"Unless you're some super crazy fangirl I should be worried about." The smile in his voice gives away his amusement. He's quoting his texts.
You pause for a second. Knowing Amara, she would agree immediately. You should have fun, you recall her words from earlier. And he seems like a lot of fun. Yeah. She's right.
"Let me ask 'mara." You point to your best friend, awkwardly standing by the bar.
He watches you talk in her ear, a smile forming on your best friend's lips before she eagerly nods. "You're coming?" He asks once you approach him as if he hadn't been staring at you already.
"Okay." As soon as you nod, Max's smile widens, eyes shining.
You nod, and he feels his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. "C'mon," goosebumps raise on your exposed arms as Max grabs your hand. His hand is so soft. "I don't want you getting lost." The wink he throws your way only fuels the flush on your neck and cheeks.
It's definitely going to be a fun night.
The walk to the VIP section is extremely difficult, with Max getting recognised and patted on the back every few seconds. When you finally make it, you sigh in relief before Max pulls you both by the wrist to meet his friends. Be cool, you mouth to Amara who only nods, wide-eyed.
"Pierre and Kika, Charles and Alex, this is [Y/N] and Amara!" You're sure they can barely hear him over the loud music but wave at them anyway. Charles shares a look with Pierre, the latter unable to contain his smile.
Max leans down, his nose brushing your temple. "Wait just a moment. Lando's around here somewhere." Before you can say a word, he flashes you a smile and disappears into the crowd, leaving you gaping like a fish.
You have no time to recover when the pretty girls approach you. Alex introduces herself as Alexandra, but she doesn't mind going by Alex. Kika's name is Francisca, but she goes by Kika. It's nice to meet them, and you don't hesitate to tell them so.
"Shots?" Amara reappears with four shot glasses passing them to each of you. "Cheers!" You clink your glasses before downing them.
"Oh, are you doing shots without me?!" A new voice pops up from behind you. Amara's eyes widen momentarily, meeting yours in poorly contained excitement.
You turn, gaze landing on Lando Norris and then gluing on Max Verstappen. This lighting makes him look even hotter. Is it normal to be thinking that? Probably not.
He introduces you to the tipsy-looking Brit, who shakes your hands in return. Amara's pulled to the side by Kika, something about doing more shots, and Charles motions for Max to go over to him. Once you're alone with Lando, a smile breaks onto his face.
"He's said a lot about you!" Your brows furrow, confused.
"What? That I tend to get lost easily in big places?" You nervously laugh, but Lando just shakes his head.
"Somethin' like tha'!"
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You haven't had this much fun in a while. You and Amara usually go to two clubs as a duo, but you admit having more people to dance and do shots with is way more fun. You're usually the sober one, having a higher tolerance for alcohol than your best friend, and this time you're extra careful since you're in a foreign place.
At some point during your dance battle with Kika and Amara, you grow tired. As much as you liked exaggerating your moves, your boots were made for walking, not jumping. Max had been out of your vision for a while, and you decided to look for him. He wasn't hard to find, considering he was nursing a drink on a couch further away from the action.
"Hey!" You plop down, bumping your elbow with his.
Max grinned. "Hey, stranger. Are you having fun?"
You nod excitedly. "Your friends are really nice." He snorts at that. "No, really! Drive to Survive does justice to none of you!"
Max's eyes widen, mouth hanging in shock. "Your source of information is a Netflix show?"
"Hey! I had to start from somewhere. I knew next to nothing about racing."
Conversing with Max comes naturally. He's funny, and he listens to what you have to say. He asks about your job: a photographer for brands. He laughs when you tell him you prefer the make-up brands because they're easier to manage than people.
He explains racing to you in simple terms. You nod along, trying your best to take in the information. It's harder with all the music and dancing bodies, but you make it work. You've shuffled even closer to him as Max leans down to talk directly in your ear while his hands move animatedly in front of you.
At some point, the conversation shifts to cats. You're delighted to learn that he has not one, but two big babies. Jimmy and Sassy. Max is a very proud cat dad, you conclude, from the excitement that exudes from every pore of his body as he slides from picture to picture.
"Oh my goodness! They're so cute!" You try not to literally squeal as Max stumbles upon a picture of them napping on his chest.
"They sleep all day and ask for treats all night." You laugh as he rolls his eyes, probably recalling every time this has happened.
"Oh, I'd love to meet them one day. They look lovely!"
"Yeah, I could introduce you someday," he says, and you turn to look at him with a huge smile.
"I should bring my Cheddar when it happens."
"Cheddar?"
"My cat. He's a big fluffball." You reach for your phone, unlocking it to search for pictures of your orange cat.
"And you named him Cheddar? After the cheese?" He looks at you incredulously.
You giggle at his expression. "He's as orange as the cheese. It was my mom's idea to name him that."
You turn your phone his way, showing him a selfie of the fluffiest cat Max has ever seen on top of your shoulders. You're clearly giggling in it, a hand over your mouth. Cute, he thinks.
"He's adorable."
"And fat," you add.
Tapping a most recent picture, you show it to Max. Cheddar is on his back, his fat ass making him look like a pear. Your mom had sent you this just a day before.
"He's staying with my mom right now. And she's feeding him more than needed."
"We should arrange a playdate." You chuckle at Max's suggestion.
"Sure, if you fly out to England."
Before Max can respond, a very loud and drunk Brit makes his way to you. Lando grins when he spots you two sitting close, indiscreetly winking at Max. Your face feels warm.
"Do you guys wan' t' leave?" You barely make out his words.
Charles notices the three of you and pulls a dancing Alex with him, who pulls Amara with her. The three make their way to where you're seated.
"What are you guys talking about?"
Lando turns to him. "Are you hungry, mate?"
Charles shakes his head, leaning close to Alex to ask her the same. She also shakes her head with an apologetic smile.
"I am!" Amara nudges Lando, and his eyes light up.
He turns to Max and you. "Me and my new friend," he pulls Amara by the shoulders, and she drunkenly stumbles, "are hungry. Will you take us somewhere to eat?"
You look at Max, who mirrors your smiling expression. Lando says something about Max promising to be his chauffeur if he got too drunk.
"I could eat," you shrug. Max nods, agreeing.
He stands up, looking at the drunk pair. "Okay, let's go."
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[ taglist @alexmarie29 , @angelfreckless, @algae-tm, @chonkybonky, @lovely-blackinnon, @namgification, @taygrls, @ssprayberrythings, @ilove-tswizzle, @leclercdream, @halleest, @yaesflorist, @liafterhours, @mrsbrxkkxr ]
259 notes · View notes
cuubism · 5 months
Text
(from some unfinished scene that was bouncing around in my head, the premise of which was, "confessing your darkest fantasies to each other") bit nsfw, needless to say
--
"God, I had this one--" Hob scrubs a hand through his hair, torn between embarrassment and a buried longing that's still very real-- "after I met you in 1689. This recurring dream that you would just... take me with you."
"With me," Dream says.
"To faerie land, or wherever it was you came from, as I imagined it. You must've lived in some fantastical place, I thought, and life was hardly treating me well then. Would just be for a few months, mind," he adds, before Dream starts getting the idea that he hadn't wanted to live. Hob had always wanted to live. He just needed a break. "A year, maybe. But just... that you would..." he ducks his head, "take care of me. God, the things I'd do then for a loaf of bread, or a warm bed. Things I did do, for lesser men. Would do lot more for you."
"Like what?" asks Dream. His voice is... considering.
Surely Dream, being, well, Dream, won't find it strange? Hell, he's so damn princely, he'll probably just be vain about it. Still Hob takes a steeling gulp of his wine. "Anything you wanted. You were the only one that was kind to me then."
"Barely kind," says Dream.
"Still. When I was really deep in it I-- I used to imagine you'd just keep me there. Like a pet." It should be more embarrassing to admit, but Dream doesn't seem judgmental. And Hob has often found that confessing deep feelings to him is easier than it would be to any other person. "Figured I was just a curiosity to you anyway. In exchange for your kindness I'd have done anything. Knelt at your feet. Let you use me. Kept your cock warm while you conducted your-- your magical affairs of state, or what have you, God I could only imagine what you did with the rest of your time." It still stirs something in him to think of, even with no starving desperation to spur it.
He's still looking down, and hears rather than sees Dream lean forward in his seat, the shift of fabric, the creak of the table as he leans on it, letting himself have real weight. "This fantasy..." Hob looks up to meet his gaze, and the dark intent he finds there nearly knocks him out of his chair. "Is it one you would still care to indulge in?"
"To-- indulge in?" The words are barely choked out, the heat of Dream's gaze brands his throat shut.
Dream looks him up and down slowly. "If I brought you with me to the heart of the Dreaming for an evening," he purrs, "would you truly kneel at the foot of my throne? Let me show you off to guests? Would you..." he leans in closer, his fingers trip up Hob's throat, "submit, and warm my cock like a good pet, while I presided over my kingdom?"
Hob's never beating the monarchist allegations now. He nearly slides off his chair and kneels at Dream's feet right then. God, but Dream is a king like none the earth's ever seen. He's right out of a story.
Heart pattering in his chest, he says, "Would I?" It sounds less a question, more a plea. "Would you let me?"
"Dear Hob." Dream tips his chin up, studies him from under his lashes, thumbs over the corner of his mouth. An evaluation, and a caress. "You need someone to care for you. In my realm you would want for nothing. You would not need to fight, or worry about your next meal. You need only do as I tell you. And I would not steer you wrong."
Hob swallows hard. Dream is too good at this. Why did Hob think it was a good idea to share a fantasy with the King of Fucking Fantasies again?
It was a terrible idea for his sanity.
And a wonderful one, too. For as Dream spins the tale he can see it in the back of his mind, the vague and changeable sense of a dream, the all-consuming weight of Dream in his mouth, Dream's hands in his hair, his low voice above him, all else faded away as is the nature of dreams.
Dream hums in approval, and Hob remembers quite suddenly that he can sense daydreams, too.
Dream digs his hand into his hair, tips his head back just so. "This isn't fair," Hob croaks. "You didn't even share one of your fantasies yet."
"Perhaps I've adopted this as one of mine," Dream muses. He leans in and claims Hob's mouth, tipping his head further back, rises from his chair to lean over him. Hob barely suppresses a whimper. "In fact, I have a delegation from Hell due to arrive in the Dreaming for a negotiation tonight. It promises to be both dull and incredibly infuriating. Would you care to join me, and comfort your king during this trying time?"
"From Hell?" Hob squeaks. But Dream is looking at him with those dark eyes and Hob is helpless to him. Helpless to the pull of that fantasy.
"I will keep you safe," Dream says, a soothing, easy tone that makes Hob want to bend for him just as much as his intensity does. "You need not worry."
Hob's worried for his sanity more than anything else.
But he says, "Okay. All- alright then." He swallows down the lump in his throat that catches at the gleam in Dream's eye. He steels himself. Takes Dream's hand. Kisses it. "Take me to your realm, then, King of Dreams."
370 notes · View notes
yandereunsolved · 2 months
Note
The self aware ones of aemond, aegon and cole made me think. What if? What if the Hotd cast, show or book, are sentient and reader suspects about it but pretends to be dumb, making comments that can be innocent to downright filthy with no filter.
Reader: *sees Rhaenyra and her dragon on episode* she and her dragon looked like kitten when smiling and an angry feral cat when pissed.
-
Criston: *fighting Aemond scene on screen*
Reader: imagine giving the element of suprise punching him in the face
Aemond: *proceeds to punch Criston square in the face*
-
Friend: Rhaenyra age like fine wine, right?
Reader: *staring intently at the screen* my head between her thighs
Friend:....
Reader:....
Rhaenyra: ....
Friend: what-?
Reader: what?
Ya know? Like Reader is going along with the flow and being a gremlin about it🙂
Reader trying to watch HOTD with the yandere self-aware characters in it:
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I love you platonically anon. You always have the best thoughts. I would respond quicker, but I want to savor the thought like a slowly cooked pot roast.
Have some more random scenarios I thought of—
Reader: watching that one scene of Aemond. "Smash."
Aemond: "???"
Reader: Still trying to act like they don't know the characters are self-aware. "I would really want to have intercourse with Aemond. He wouldn't be able to walk the next day."
Aemond: struts out proudly.
Aegon II thinking: So all I had to do was show you my cock and you'd be in love with me!?
Reader: "I wonder what Daemon would look like as a blonde?"
Daemon: comes in the next scene with blonde hair.
Reader: "I want to cuddle Helaena so badly. She looks like such a good cuddler."
Helaena: "Aww..." tears come to her eyes.
Reader: "You know what? I'd fuck Cregan."
Jace: "Me too."
Reader: "What?"
Jace: 0-0 "..."
269 notes · View notes
no-nameno-face · 1 year
Text
Late Night Call (AUDIO W/ SCRIPT)
Ellie Williams x Listener Phone Sex
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, minors do not interact. You will be blocked. PHONE SEX, masturbation, mutual masturbation, fingering, boob play, petnames (babe, baby), praise
Author's Notes: ITS HEREEEE!!!! Thank you anon for the idea Im obsessed. Definitely wanna make more of these if i can figure out a script. Anywayyysss… i made this audio with the script (loose descriptions for situation context) heavily in mind, giving room for the responses so it would play out like a real phone call… read along and enjoy the ride besties!!! hope you guys enjoy!!! <3 (ELLIE IS RED YOU ARE BLACK)
[START OF AUDIO]
Hello?
Hey babe.
Hiiii (your voice is laced with sleep)
Shit, did I wake you up?
Yesss.
Awh. Sleepy girl.
Mhmmm. What's up, are you okay?
Yeah, I'm fine…
Why are you calling then silly?( you say with a giggle)
Don't know… was just… thinking about you…
Oh, were you now? (the fog of your sleep starting to fade) 
Yeah.
What exactly are you thinking about Ellie?
You gonna make me say it?
Mhmm (you say, your voice still rasped from rest)
Thinking about fucking you babe. 
Thinking about how good you feel
This is one hell of a wake up... I'm not complaining. 
What are you thinking about?
Well now… I'm thinking about all the things you would do to me if I was there… enlighten me Ellie.
Fuck…
Come on, don't stop now. (a smirk in your voice, you like when she's needy)
First, id take you on the bed.
How would you “take me” El's?
Id start with your lips (Ellies fingers meet her own, imagining they are yours)
Then down your neck. (her fingers softly drift down the flesh of her neck, chills bubbling beneath her skin) 
And then what?
Fuck. Your tits. (her breathing picks up as her hands squeeze, following her words.) 
Jesus ellie. Please tell me more. 
Id suck on you, while my fingers drift lower. (phone pinched between her shoulder and ear she has one hand firmly squeezing her boob the other drifts down between her legs.)
I'd tease you. (she circles her clit softly, breathing heavy)
Make you beg for it. (her fingers drift down to her entrance, spreading her slick across it)
Ellie, please… 
Fuck… (her fingers slide into her, slowly and she breathes into the pleasure) 
I want you to touch yourself. (her head rocks back, imagining you rubbing your clit to her voice. To the image of her.)
Already there babe…
Shit… so good. (a painting of you pleasuring yourself decorates her mind as her fingers plunge in and out of her) 
God, I wish you were here.
Wish I could watch you fuck yourself. (her core pulses at the thought)
Fuck ellie. Feels so good. 
Yeah? Making yourself feel so good? Thinking about me? (she's tightening around her fingers, getting close just by the sound of your voice. Your sighs. Your soft moans.)
Such a good girl.
Oh my god ellie. Im fucking close, your voice. Your… fuck
Me too, baby. Me too. So close… (her eyes squint as she holds back the pleasure threatening to boil over the edge) Fuck…
Ellie… (your voice comes desperate now, a plea)
Cum with me babe. Yeah? Cum with me. Fuck… (her body flexes around her fingers and she breaths a silent orgasm, too focused on listening to your less restrained sounds to let herself make a peep, you are making her climax harder just by the sound of you. It ravages her and sends a shockwave through her legs, leaving them quaking.)
[END OF AUDIO] 
Jesus babe… 
Fuck. (ellie chuckles at your shaky breath)
That was…
Fucking hot? 
Yeah… (she laughs) 
Well shit… feel free to call whenever if it's gonna be like that.
Noted (a smile in her voice)
2K notes · View notes
worth-the-chaos · 2 months
Note
Not sure if you're still taking requests or not, but I'd love to hear what the moments between getting out of the upside down and the end scene were like between Steve and MC in the Adventures in Baby Sitting Series. I adore these two, and your writing is so awesome 🥰
Hi Tiffany! I hope you enjoy this blurb and I really appreciate your kind words! I chose to focus on the end of season two and the “will they won’t they” tension before they got together! I’m not sure which season you wanted me to focus on, so if you have any additional requests, feel free to send them in! Thank you so much for the request and I hope you have a good time reading it!
Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Blurb!
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Summary: After making your way out of the tunnels under Hawkins, you and Steve take care of each other’s injuries sustained during your scuffle with Billy Hargrove.
Content Warning: blood, swearing, injuries, angst
Word Count: 2.2k
Author’s Note: This takes place within Chapter 5 of the main series! Please feel free to send in any requests you have for Steve and the reader within the context of Adventures in Babysitting!
Series Masterlist | Associated Chapter
***
“Hey lovebirds! We need to get out of here!” Dustin’s voice rang out from above the two of you.
You couldn’t quite believe that the demodogs just passed right by you and Steve without attacking. You were confident you were going to get ripped to shreds, and your mind drifted to the scars that littered your left arm. You couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if the supernatural creatures got the opportunity to finish the job.
You were still pressed tight up against Steve, his hand at the nape of your neck as you swayed together, your head buried against his chest. You peeled yourself apart from Steve and looked up into his eyes. You could barely see them past the goggles he was wearing, but you could feel the relief in the way he breathed deeply. His hands were wrapped around your upper arms as he held you, taking in the sight of you, whole and okay.
“I guess we should get out of here,” he finally spoke up, his voice sounding far away.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you agreed. He rested one of his large hands on the small of your back as he guided you to the rope that the kids had just ascended. You thought back to the P.E. class the two of you shared and you blushed at the fact that you weren’t nearly as athletic as he was, and you sure weren’t going to be able to climb this rope without a little bit of help. You were grateful for the bandana over your face to hide your reddened cheeks as you grabbed hold of the rope and hoisted yourself up.
You were clearly struggling as you wrapped your ankles around the rope to get a better grip. Suddenly you felt Steve’s hands against your frame, one on your waist and the other right below your ass as he helped push you up. You again thanked your lucky stars that no one could see your face as you finally got high enough for Dustin and Lucas to grab your hands and help pull you out of the hole.
To your complete non surprise, Steve quickly climbed the rope without assistance, dusting off his pants and snatching the keys from an irritated Max Mayfield.
“Hey!” She shouted as she tried to grab them back but Steve was quick to hold them above his head, wildly out of the young girl’s reach.
“There is absolutely no way in hell you are driving that car again. No way,” Steve said plainly, making his way back towards Billy’s car parked haphazardly a few yards away from the gaping hole in the earth. “The fact that you even drove it in the first place is completely fucking ridiculous.”
“You probably have a concussion! You shouldn’t be driving either!” She argued.
“I’ll take my chances, thank you,” Steve rolled his eyes, spinning the keys around his index finger before opening the passenger door for you as he gently guided you inside the vehicle.
The car was pretty quiet as you dropped the rest of the kids off, everyone silently taking in all that had just transpired. They had all decided that Mike’s house was their best bet, seeing as Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler were absolutely oblivious when it came to the otherworldly shit the majority of their kids were facing on a remarkably consistent basis. You and Steve then returned Billy’s car to the Byers’ house, leaving the key on the dash and quickly switching to Steve’s BMW.
Steve started the car but he turned to face you before he put it in gear.
“That was kind of a lot,” he began, his eyes not faltering from yours, “I don’t know about you, but I don’t really feel like being alone right now, so do you want to stay at my house tonight?”
You couldn’t muster up the words to respond, so you just nodded and his hand found the back of your headrest as he put the car in reverse and backed out of the Byers’ driveway. You hummed to the music playing softly on the radio as you fidgeted with your hands, nervous about being alone with Steve considering all that had happened.
Nancy and him had just officially, officially ended things, and you knew you were developing feelings for the brown eyed boy that was so endlessly kind to you. Hell, if you were being honest, you’d had feelings for him since a year ago when he came back to save you from certain doom in your fight against the demogorgon in Jonathan’s living room. You didn’t want to be a rebound or to make things weird between you and Nancy. You didn’t have enough friends to lose the few that you had made in your less than desirable circumstances.
Before you knew it, Steve was pulling into his empty driveway, his parents nowhere to be found per usual. You felt a pang in your chest as you considered how lonely it must feel sometimes to be Steve Harrington. But you didn’t have a lot of time to think about that as he was opening your car door for you and gently guiding you inside.
“Steve—“ you began, stopping in the foyer of his house feeling the need to express the anxiety sitting in your chest surrounding the weird, in-between relationship you seemed to be entering together, but Steve just walked right past you, leaving you alone in the expansive entryway of his even more unbelievably expansive home. You messed with the hem of your shirt, your eyes darting around the room, still afraid of monsters lurking in the dark.
Steve quickly returned and you could see the absolute focus on his face as he gently grabbed your wrist and led you to the kitchen. He sat you down in a kitchen chair before kneeling down in front of you, carefully setting a first-aid kit on the floor.
“What hurts?” He asked, his eyes kind and his voice dripping with a sincerity that could make you melt into the ground.
His mind had been racing too. He had been upset about him and Nancy’s split, but not as upset as he anticipated. He almost felt a little….relieved? He was conflicted, but all that mattered to him right now was the pretty girl sitting in his kitchen, ash and dirt on her pants and blood on her face as she sat, still jittery from the conflict.
You didn’t really know if it was the compassion in his voice or the adrenaline crash from the sheer terror of trying to survive, but your eyes began welling up with tears as you choked out a sob that wracked your sore and tired frame. Your hands darted to cover your face, embarrassed by the way you were falling apart in front of Steve.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve gently pulled at your wrists, desperately trying to gauge if you were okay. Alarm bells started ringing in his head, his thoughts going to the worst case scenario. His mind flashed back to your wobbly gait and blood soaked sleeve from the year prior, to the way he ran with your limp body as you began to drift in and out of consciousness. “Y/n, what’s wrong? Do I need to take you to the hospital?”
You didn’t respond, sobbing harder into your hands, still unable to speak.
“Please y/n, you’re scaring me,” Steve begged you to say something, anything. “I need you to be okay.”
“It’s…it’s just,” you choked out as you looked him in the eyes, “we could have died.”
The words came out in a whisper, like speaking the words would will fate to change the past. Steve didn’t say anything. Instead he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you forward off of the chair and into his lap on the floor of his kitchen. You buried your face in his neck as he rubbed circles on your back, hugging you close to him.
After several minutes, you began to calm down and you pulled away from him a bit, your face flushing as you realized you were straddling him. You began to try and move away, but his hand dropped to your lower back and held you there as his brown eyes searched your face, awestruck by just how beautiful you were. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, and you hissed in pain as his fingers grazed across a cut on your cheek.
“Let me fix it,” he whispered, grabbing supplies from the first-aid kit and cleaning up the cuts and scratches on your face. You winced as he removed the blood-soaked, multicolored bandages the kids had placed haphazardly across the worst of your cuts, replacing them with butterfly stitches. He hated the way your eye was starting to bruise, and his jaw set as he thought about the man that did this to you.
“I’m gonna kill him, you know,” Steve assured you and you just shook your head.
“It’s okay Steve,” he didn’t seem to relent with your assurance, so you continued. “Really, I promise. He’s just an asshole and I doubt he’ll lay a hand on any of us again.”
“You don’t know that though,” Steve pushed, “that was fucking insane, y/n. He had you pinned against the wall and bleeding in the minute it took me to get back inside!”
Steve sounded exasperated and you couldn’t say it wasn’t warranted. Your gaze drifted to your hands in your lap as you anxiously fiddled with your fingers. Your voice was quiet when you spoke up. “Why do you care so much?”
“Why do I care so much?” He repeated your question incredulously. “Y/n, we’ve quite literally been through hell together. And….and I-I don’t know what I’d do with myself if something happened to you. I watched you nearly get ripped to shreds last year, and I think about that all the damn time—that…that I barely even met you, like really met you, and you were going to be gone and out of my life just like that,” he snapped his fingers, and you jumped a bit at the sudden sound. “So to think that some shit for brains, asshole lunatic beat you half to death on my watch absolutely kills me. I care so much because he shouldn’t have gotten a chance to lay a finger on you in the first place. Not on Halloween, and certainly not tonight, and that’s on me.”
The admission made your chest hurt, knowing that he was carrying that emotional weight. You looked up and met his gaze and you could tell he meant every damn word. As your eyes traced the cuts and bruises scattered across his battered and beaten face, you thought back to the first time you’d reached out to the boy; showing up at his doorstep looking for help.
And he hadn’t stopped helping you since then.
“Steve, this isn’t your fault. You can’t carry that,” you shook your head, as your eye contact remained unwavering, your voice carrying such conviction that Steve held his breath in his throat.
“But you have to. All the time,” he whispered, his fingers ghosting across a cut on the bridge of your nose before his hand trailed down to your left arm. He knew the scars were there despite the fact that you were never vulnerable enough around him to let him see them. He thought about all the times he’d see you, miserable in the sweltering heat of spring and summer, suffocating in your long sleeves.
You were surprised by the way you didn’t jump at his touch, instead, taking a deep breath, you gently grabbed his hand and held it in both of yours.
“It just reminds me of how lucky I am to have you in my life,” you whispered, “that you saved my life.” You wiped a tear that began to roll down his cheek, grabbing some of the first aid supplies and silently going to work at cleaning and bandaging his wounds properly (no shade against the kids, but the neon band aids just simply weren’t cutting it).
“There. All better,” you announced with a smirk as you placed the last bandage over a shallow cut along his jawline. “Now, how about we go to bed? It’s been a long day.”
“That is the understatement of the century,” Steve chuckled.
And just like that, the two of you made your way up to his bedroom and you changed into another pair of his pajamas, swimming in the fabric that was too big for your frame. Unlike the night before when you spent the night, neither of you were shy about it. Instead of facing away from each other, you fell asleep nestled into the crook of his arm, resting your head against his chest. You quickly drifted off to sleep as Steve ran his fingers through your hair.
When he was sure you were asleep, he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head and took a deep breath. Maybe you were right. Maybe it wasn’t his fault.
But he’d be damned if he didn’t fight like hell to make sure you never got so much as a damn scratch on you again.
***
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