#lush blurbs☆

[gxldenlush]

🪻pumpkin patch

(september = autumn = spooky season)

Pumpkins are so goddamn heavy.

My sister left me and decided to wait in the car because it was too cold but a jacket would “ruin her outfit”, so here I am, alone, holding a huge pumpkin while trying to pick up another. I almost fall on my face and drop both pumpkins when someone catches me, two strong hands grip my arms to stop me from falling forwards.

“Woah. You good?” He helps me stand upright, when I turn to thank him I realise how close we actually are. This man is slightly taller than me, gorgeous brown fluffy hair and the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Thank you, I always forget how heavy these things are” I laugh nervously, considering I just realised that I nearly fell over in front of this man.

“Yeah, so do I. Probably because they’re only around once a year, huh?”

“Yeah I guess so”

He smiles at me, he’s clearly nervous, he looks down at the two pumpkins I had attempted to carry. “Who’s the other one for? Boyfriend?”

“Oh, no. My sister, she’s waiting in the car because she’s too cold.”

“Too cold? It’s not that bad outside”

“She wouldn’t wear a jacket because it would ‘ruin the outfit’ apparently.”

“Oh, well of course, you can’t ruin the fit” He plays along, his smile is adorable. “I see yours fits the occasion.. it’s nice”

“Thank you.. I like your sweater”

“I’m Matt”

“y/n”

“Nice to meet you… do you want help carrying those? I don’t mind”

“What about your pumpkins?”

”My brothers can take care of it for me.. I’ll grab the heavy one..”

“Wanna grab my number too?” I half-joke. I squeeze my eyes closed and shove my face into my hands as I regret my choice of words. He laughs loudly when he hears my request.

“Woah! You’re forward!”

“I don’t know why I said that” I laugh from the embarrassment.

“Don’t worry about it… it was cute”

“Really?”

He doesn’t give a verbal answer, he only replies by handing me his phone with the “new contact” screen open.

———

@mattscoquette

[neverbelessthan]

Heads up new Stede-coded bath bomb dropped at LUSH.

[mrsoharaa]

I have to remember to write a self indulgent blurb/drabble on my bday (monday) !

[zweetpea]

A dragon's jealously

(A large blurb based on my experience playing genshin and cause I lost my 50-50. However this is a raceless, bodyless, genderless post so anyone can read and all are encouraged to read.)

Well here it was! They could finally claim his C1 after so long! He could finally be close to them! No longer would he sit on the sidelines while they played with Ganyu and Kokomi or Ayato... Cyno... Diluc... Scaramouche... Kaeya! NO! None of them would be of any use to her anymore! She'd never have to take him out of her team.

Of course They'd have to build him a team... But They already had everyone they need for a hyperbloom team! Nahida, Shinobu, and to his Chagrin... Kazuha... though he couldn't fuss too much as they've had Kazuha long before he was even released into the game. Though if that didn't work they could always use fridge... But he'd want her to use Ganyu for that! No way was he about to let Kaeya onto his team to steal his players attention away!

They'd stroll through the lush mountainside of Fontaine together... visit Catherine in the court of Fontaine after their daily run... He'd even get to eat their delectable cooking! And maybe... maybe They'd even put him in their serenitea pot! Oh how he longed for that moment!

But there they were pulling on Zhongli's banner. At first he reasoned that they were going to put Zhongli on his team as there were a few team comps with the two of them together and it wouldn't be out of the question for them to have a mostly 5 star team... they have had one before... but then he remembered that one of those teams needs furina which they unfortunetly didn't have. What was going on?

Were they... trying to replace him? WHY? He was- He IS the best unit in the game! He's SS ranked! He has complex lore! He was drop dead gorgeous (their words, not his)! They've said he was their favorite on multiple occasions! He figured it out as they were doing some stealth and let me tell you, it started to pour. Attempt after attempt it rained, and rained. It splashed onto the ground like there was no tomorrow. Some NPC's started to whisper and worry that his tears would singlehandedly flood Teyvat.

The player was nearing they're 10 pull and he knew what he needed to do. He was sure they were about to pull a 5 star and he would make sure it wasn't Zhongli. He looked at the 7 standard five stars when his gaze fell on Mona. PERFECT! This would surely send them a message. After all Mona was Hydro too so he knew they'd obviously get the message that a certain someone wasn't happy with them.

He sauntered over there with a fire in his eyes. "Miss Mona," He put on a calm voice, "how would you like an all expenses paid trip to Fontaine?" He smiled politely at her.

"Monsieur Neuvillette! How generous of you to offer! I-I couldn't though..."

"Nonsense! Of course you can! A five star hotel and penthouse suite, private Michelin chef, I'll even take care of your rent for you for however long you decide to stay." He sweetened the pot more and more; circling her like a hungry vulture sizing up it's prey.

"Wow... okay then!" She grabs his hands in thanks.

He reeled back. "Not so fast. I need you to do something for me first."

He face fell in shock. "Oh! Yes of course..." She knew it was too good to be true.

His voice dropped into a sinister husk. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her towards the golden star that would soon be falling down into the players hands. "All I need you to do is ruin our players 50-50 pull on Zhongli..." He whispered into her ear.

"That's it?" She looked up at him skeptically.

"That's it." He nodded, pushing her toward the star a bit.

"OKAY!!" She nodded excitedly and hopped on right as the player pulled.

He looked longingly at their crushed face and smiled symapthetically. "Sorry darling... but you're only allowed to have one dragon Daddy in your life."

[oceansblvds]

tunnel vision ; coriolanus snow

MASTERLIST

pairing ; king!coriolanus snow x debutante!reader

words ; 2.9k

about ; in the glittering world of panem high society, you were raised to be perfect — the prized daughter of a powerful family. your family was prepared to make the match of the season. but when king coriolanus snow arrives unexpectedly, announcing his intention to marry, everything changes.

warning(s) ; eventual smut, angst, courting (bridgerton style), eventual fluff. chapter specifics: talk of marriage. snow being lowkey a stalker.

authors note ; please feel free to request fics or headcanons or blurbs! i hope u enjoy :) this is the first part of a series.

You couldn’t remember the last time that your mother didn’t talk to you about the prospect of marrying a wealthy man. 

Your family, a powerful family who had multiple different monopolies on the factories in District One, knew that the moment they had a girl they would have to secure the perfect match of the season for her the moment she came of age. Your mother was the cousin of a prince and your father was the first born son of the late viscount, money and station was never anything  that you had to worry about. When you were little, you were sure that you would find someone for a love match, something that only happened about one in a hundred times in a courting situation. You dreamed about a wealthy, beautiful man sweeping you off your feet and taking you away to have a beautiful life and marriage. 

But for someone like you, born into the family that you were, something deep down in you knew that you wouldn’t have much of a choice on who you were to marry. You knew that your father would want to marry you to the best man who would keep you secure, someone who wouldn’t gamble all of his money away or incite scandal. And although there were many men who asked for your hand over the years, he still insisted that he hadn’t found the right one for you yet. 

All of these suitors are mere boys. They don’t know power. They don’t know prestige. He would say to you as your mother held your hand just a little bit tighter when they broke the news that you would still be single for the time being. 

It was a new courting season in the Capital. The lush greenery of the beautiful city was at its peak, the summer air flowing through the windows of your rooms as you got ready to go with your family to the first event of the season — a luncheon hosted by a wealthy duke and his mother to start the season on a new foot. 

Your maid fastned the final clasp of your gown, a soft lilac shade with white lace — something subtle, but showed the elegance that you prided yourself with. You couldn’t help but stare at your reflection for a second too long, convincing yourself that it wasn’t nerves, it wasn’t excitement, it was something else that was harder to name. Like you were bracing yourself for the day to come. You would be on display for everyone to see, measured for your worth, whispered about in the sidelines of the luncheon. Your mother stood behind you, dressed in pale blue silks that accented her poised skin. She gently touched your shoulders, making eye contact with you in the mirror, subtly adjusting the necklace that braced your skin. 

“Remember to smile,” She spoke, as if she hadn’t said those same exact words since you were old enough to remember. All you did was nod, deciding not to reply. You knew better than to speak when her tone turned into quiet warnings disguised as advice. You knew that she meant best, truly, but it was hard to deal with sometimes because of her meddling. 

The carriage ride to the estate was long enough for your father to go over the guest list at least twice, which sons of merchants were attending, which distant relatives of the royal house would be present, and of course, which unmarried dukes and barons would be attending. But one name came with a pause. You heard the smallest hitch in your father’s voice, something you hadn’t ever heard before. 

“The King may make an appearance.” 

Your eyes flicked over to him from the horizon. “The King? At a duke's luncheon?” 

Your mother interjected. “It’s a new tradition. He wishes to be seen among the people. Or at least that is what Lady Elinor said to me yesterday at tea.” 

Your father, on the other hand, didn’t look convinced by this explanation. “He doesn’t do anything without reason.” 

You had never met him, only ever seen him from afar, in newsreels, in portraits hung in the Capital buildings. He was a younger king, his father running up multitudes of debt that was unbecoming of the crown, and suddenly the man fell ill and the new King was put in place to be his heir. He was beautiful in a way that was almost cruel. His eyes always looked calculating, too still. Like he was always watching, always calculating. Clean-shaven, sharp-jawed, impossibly pristine King Coriolanus. He didn’t invite admiration, he demanded it. 

You had overheard stories about his private life over the years, although you were never one to count on gossip as much as your mother did. Stories whispered behind lace fans and velvet curtains, how women had tried to charm him over the years. None had succeeded. Some said he had no heart to give, that his heart was only with Panem. Others claimed that he was waiting for someone worthy. You once heard a woman, older and bitter, say that to be chosen by him was like being devoured by fire. He didn’t fall in love; he consumed. 

No one had expected him to attend a luncheon like this. This was the type of affair that was meant for gossip, flirting, for families to arrange early betrothals. Kings didn’t typically waste their time with debutantes. Kings didn’t listen to the chatter of eager mama’s trying to put their daughter on a pedestal. And Kings certainly did not need father’s chattering in his ear about how huge their daughters dowry was. 

Your eyes scanned the field as you entered with your family, your mother grasping at your arm to start walking around the crowd. There were many different families here, all rich, all powerful, all seemed to have heard about who may be attending considering how many young ladies were glancing over and over at the entrance like the King would magically appear. 

It started with a silence, something unnatural. Like the air had been sucked right out from the sky. The quartet who played in the corner faltered for a tiny beat, making a few heads turn. And then more heads turned. And then everyone knew. 

He had arrived. 

King Coriolanus Snow entered not with a proclamation or with any type of escort. He moved like he belonged to every inch of the space, like the world and all of its matter were merely rearranging itself around him. The duke, who had been standing very tall only moments ago, seemed to shrink as he walked up to the King, introducing him to the luncheon and thanking him for his presence. The duchess curtseyed so deeply that you thought her knees might give out and break. 

Your breath caught. 

He was taller than you remembered. And there was something unnatural about the way he carried himself, too precise and too controlled. His spine was impossibly straight, like he came out that way from birth, his shoulders squared and his pace slow, deliberate. Regal. And incredibly dangerous. His suit was crisp and dark, not the gleaming white that he had worn in times past. This was something quieter, like he wasn’t trying to make as much of a statement with his attire. Trying to make himself seem more . . . human. The lines were severe and angular, every thread screamed power and wealth. On his collar that covered his pale skin was a single pin: a silver snake coiled tightly around itself, head raised, fangs bared. His hair was a pale, silvery blonde, like the gleam of a golden rose your family grew in your garden. Soft curls fell onto his forehead, which could be misconstrued as messy, but it was just the right amount of messy that still showed how young and fair he was. 

And those eyes. 

Those eyes. 

They were pale blue, nearly gray, so washed out that they looked like the winter sky. They moved slowly and steadily. A predator that didn’t need to rush. He didn’t smile, not even when the duke stumbled over his words in a rushed greeting, not even when the crowd parted to let him farther into the field. 

And then those eyes settled on you. 

The air in your lungs stilled. Time seemed to fracture and break. Your first instinct was to look away, while the rest of you screamed at you not to look away. He would notice if you did. He would notice if your heart decided to skip a beat despite it being nestled in the crevice of your ribs underneath your bodice. His gaze wasn’t flirtatious or curious. It wasn’t even particularly interested. It was aware. 

He hadn’t said a word. 

And yet somehow you felt you had already answered a question he hadn’t even spoken. 

The luncheon moved on around you, the tension dissipating. But you were no longer part of it. You danced once, with a son of a wealthy arms manufacturer. He was talking about something in his summer house, and you couldn’t recall a single word of the conversation. You smiled when the duchess passed your table and greeted your mother, an old family friend. You complimented a girl’s gloves even though they were particularly hideous. It was all instinct. Automatic. 

You were keenly aware, every moment, that he had not looked at you again. 

Perhaps it was a fluke. Something he hadn’t planned on doing. Or perhaps he hadn’t been looking at you at all. Perhaps you made it up. 

By the time dessert was served, you felt the walls closing in. 

“I need some air,” You whispered to your mother, who was too deep in conversation with your father to notice anything, nodding absently and waving you off. You slipped away from the crowd, past the marble columns and into the shade of the private gardens. The moment the gates closed behind you, it was like the whole magic spell broke. You could finally breathe. 

The summer air outside was warm and damp, heavy with the scent of roses and lilies. The pale stone pathways of the vast, lush gardens were long and winding. Everything was curated to perfection, like something out of a painting. 

Finally, quiet. 

You drifted through the paths without much thought, your gloved fingers brushing the blossoms as you walked. You didn’t know what you were looking for. If you were looking for anything at all. 

It wasn’t until you turned the corner near the greenhouse, ivy crawling along the windowed walls that you saw him. 

King Snow stood beneath a stone arch laced with creeping vines, his hand clasped loosely behind his back. He was alone. He wasn’t looking at you, he was gazing up toward something you couldn’t see. The pale sunlight that was beginning to set filtered through the edges of his hair like a crown. 

You should have turned around, left him alone. 

But you didn’t. 

As if sensing you before you made a sound, he finally looked your way, and his eyes found yours again. Unhurried. 

He took a single step forward. 

“You’re not fond of crowds,” He said. Like it was a fact. Like he already had you and your entire life memorized in detail. “Neither am I.” 

You didn’t answer at first. 

His voice was richer than you expected. Smooth, but cool at the edges. Like everything he said had been weight before it ever left his lips. You were sure it had. The tone wrapped around you like velvet. It had weight. You had heard it before, on screens, announcing tributes, making speeches and declarations. But never like this. 

Never directed at you. 

And you were alone with him. 

The realization struck like ice in your veins. Your pulse skipped, then quickened. You weren’t ever supposed to be alone with a man, no matter the station that they hold. Not like this. Not without a chaperone. If anyone was to see you with him alone, they would think that he invited you here, that he seduced you or whatever the women of the ton loved to talk about. This was the stuff that your mother whispered about with her friends, the things that were written about in scandal sheets. You had half a mind to walk away, though the fact that he was the King and you knew better than to dismiss him made things messy. 

“I —” You cleared your throat, then dipped into the kind of perfectly measured curtsy that your mother had drilled into your mind and body since you could walk. “Your Majesty.” 

His head tilted slightly, as if he was studying you. If it was anyone else, you would think that it was rude. But you couldn’t help the way that you felt like you were like a piece of jewelry under the eye of an appraiser. A flicker of interest, attention. Authority. 

“You didn’t answer my observation,” He said plainly. 

Your mouth opened and then closed. He was too close for comfort, and yet far enough that you taking a step back would make him notice. You forced a polite smile. “I enjoy them well enough, Your Majesty,” You said carefully. “Though I suppose taking a moment to breathe is someone everyone has to do from time to time.” 

He nodded, like your answer pleased him. 

“Most people lie to me,” He said. 

You blinked. 

He took a step closer. “It’s not a complaint. It’s something I’ve grown used to. I find honesty . . . refreshing. Especially from someone like you.” 

Someone like you. What did you mean? You wanted to ask, but your tongue felt heavy against the roof of your mouth. Your heartbeat fled to your ears, almost drowning out the extra noise of the gardens from your mind completely. 

“I should return inside,” You said. “My mother will be —” 

“She won’t come looking for you,” He interrupted gently. “Not just yet.” 

You froze. 

It didn’t feel menacing, the way that he said it. It was oddly . . . calm. Normal. Like two friends holding a conversation. The way that someone might speak when they’ve already decided how the conversation would end. Did he spend his days like that? Already knowing how everything would end? It must be awfully tiring. 

He went on. “You’re very poised.” He blinked. “Trained. You answer well. You look people in the eye.” 

The King took another step forward. You could smell his cologne, something clean and sharp. You lifted your chin, just barely. “How do you know who I am?” You asked, your voice came out steadier than you expected. 

His expression didn’t change. “I know everyone worth knowing.” He said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. It wasn’t flattery or a compliment. It was like a statement of fact. Cold and inevitable. “Your family holds nearly half the manufacturing power in District One. Your father sits on four advisory boards. Your mother's cousin to a prince with an unfortunate gambling habit.” 

You flinched at that, just slightly. His eyes flicked to catch it. 

“And you,” He said, lingering. “Are your family’s only daughter. Presented late. With purpose. Polished and perfect.” 

“That doesn’t answer the question,” You replied, before you could stop the question from coming from your lips. “There are a dozen girls at this luncheon, ones that are older than me, ones that are younger than me. There are ones there who are more wealthy and have better titles. You said you like honest people, so answer honest. Why me?” 

A breath passed between the two of you. 

And then, for the first time in your life, you saw him smile. 

It wasn’t warm, it wasn’t cruel. It was something worse — genuine amusement. 

“You look at people the way I used to,” He said. “With curiosity. Not greed. You’re measuring the weight of the world and wondering when one person starts and when the other begins. You wonder how much of the world you’re allowed to carry before someone tells you to stop.” 

Your mouth had grown dry. 

“I saw your name on the guest list days ago,” He added. “I knew who your father was. I remembered your mother. But I didn’t know you. Not until you walked into that field and looked like you belonged everywhere and nowhere all at once. 

Silence. 

Coriolanus’ head tilted slightly. 

“Now tell me, darling girl,” He murmured. “Is that answer honest enough for you?” 

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Not at first. 

The garden had grown incredibly small, like the hedges had grown taller and the weeds were growing up the legs under your gown. Like the vines were listening to every word he spoke just the way that you were. It was agonizing, really. He had peeled you and your character open in less than three sentences. You couldn’t decide if it was cruel or something he couldn’t help but do. 

“I don’t belong to anyone,” You said softly. 

He smiled again. Just a tiny sliver. Something that said not yet. 

“I’d like your company. Privately. Over dinner.” 

He didn’t ask if you would like to come. 

He simply expected you would. 

[spncvr]

hi! i love your writing!! wanted to ask if i could request a small blurb or sth of reader and spencer waking up in the morning?? really cute and fluffy hahah... take your time! :DD

mornings | s.reid

summary: waking up with spencer

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: um it's not smut ?? as in not, "he trhusted into her and growled when she called him daddy"-smut. but. like. u can tell they fucked. i think. kissing and my bad english ANYWAYS

a/n: hi pookie sprry it took me forever to answer this,, i spent the entire day soing math today this is my break. so its not that great pls bear w me crying emoji

masterlist

THE SUN ROSE behind the leaves that hung lazily on the branches. Through the voile curtains, tendrils of the sun rays bled against your skin, that brushed against his. The voile, no longer as pure and lush as it once was, twists and turns against the wind like a dance. The low hum of the city’s heartbeat echoes around the room in a chaotic symphony—and within the room was calm. You smile because for once, he was not somehow tied within this chaos.

Then, a whisper of a touch—his fingers were grazing your hips, uttering a verse only you’d understand.  

Last night, he had kissed you—and maybe, because you thought he wouldn’t stop, because you thought he’d disappear, you pulled him closer, and closer; unwanting to let go. His whispers, pliant to your ears, had never been so soft. He held you; fingers against your waist and skin. His fingers had burned like wildfire; you felt it first against your cheek, your arms, then your hips. He held your heart by his soft fingertips, unscarred and gentle; his words were sugar-coated, leaving teeth rotting and hearts yearning. He kissed you, kissed you and kissed you. And the entire time, you were kissing him back.

You feel his smile against your shoulder, slightly dragging your shirt upwards, and you only hum in acknowledgement, too tired to reply with words. You feel your name against your skin. 

“Hi,” he says, lips kissing your shoulder. 

“Hey,” you manage to reply, and you turn your body so you’re facing him fully—and, when he pries the strands of hair out of your face you smile. “Morning.” 

“Morning,” he replies. Then, “you’re beautiful.”

You bury your face in his chest, groaning quietly, he laughs. “What?”

“You can’t just say things like that,” you protest, your voice a whisper against his warmth.

“I’m sorry, pretty girl,” he says, entirely unapologetic.

You take it though, slowly sneaking a glance at him as you lift your head, to see him smiling down at you (a kind, lazy thing). His hand cups your cheek and he’s kissing you again. There are so many things you need to do today, you think; the paperwork at your desk, and the errands lined up on your to-do list in your phone that you never bother to update. But you were so tired, and Spencer’s lips were so soft. When his nose nudges against yours, your mouth lazily falls open. His fingers are on your waist, his thumbs painting shapes against your skin.

When he pulls away you tell him you love him, and you don’t need to wait for him to tell you that he loves you too.

guys reqs r open but its gonna take me a decade to actually write them so be warned LMAOOO (+ for the people asking for pt.2 to waiting room ITS BEING MADE!!! so excited to share sakjnskfjb)

[solbaby7]

bloody mary pls make it neat and can you add a salt rim with a sprinkle of line? 🫶

*plops down drinks* *adds cute lil umbrellas* enjoyyy, bc who doesn’t love a good damsel in distress moment?

[ “it’s not safe for pretty thing like you to be out here alone.” “she’s not alone.” + smut/angst + az ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

The body is a mechanism, equipped with the most accurate radar for danger— and yours was sounding its alarm.

Hairs stand on the back of your neck, a cold-sweat breaking out against your spine and you can’t help but notice that all those chirping bugs and nibbling squirrels seems to have just…disappeared.

It’s eerily quiet and yet you’re frozen in place, heart hammering in your chest as your hearing seems to amplify tenfold under duress. The stems of flowers tremble in your grasp, the freshly plucked bouquet clutched like a lifeline as your eyes surveil your surroundings.

Perhaps you’d hidden yourself too well when dashing through the woods, leaving behind scraps of clothing for Azriel to find until you were left in nothing but a slip and the jewels adorning your neck. You’d found it charming at first—the thrill of being hunted by him.

But, Azriel was taking too long to find you—long enough for creamsicle skies of sunset to fade away into murky blues. Breath catches when you pick up on the distinct crackle of branches giving under weight and you only have seconds before a burly body appears on your right. “It must be my lucky day.” A rough cadence cuts through the deafening silence. “Seems like I’ve caught a live one!”

Eyes widen as another voice answers from the left, flower petals falling free in the haste of which you turn to face them. An unsettled shiver racks down your spine at the way they look at you; like vultures circling their prey, beady eyes honed in and beaks snapping for a bite. “One who’s easy on the eyes too—lucky day indeed.”

When they step closer, you step back. “It’s not safe for a pretty thing like you to be out here alone.” The words are crooned out like a lullaby but hit the ears like nails on a chalkboard.

You’re too frazzled for your voice box to properly function, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as you struggle to maintain your distance. Every inch of you trembles, thoroughly caught off guard as your steps stumble. Lush grass cutting off into dry dirt and scattered branches; crispy leaves and the crawling critters taking shelter beneath them.

That's all you need—just a few more steps until you're able to blend into the heavy camouflage of thick trees and shield yourself from the perception of males and their polluted desires. It's instinct the way you shrink into yourself, maintaining a visual on both predators until you feel the warmth of another at your back. A warmth you recognize; the bulk of his body obscured by the darkness—by his shadows.

Under other circumstances, you might've even laughed at the way the males grins melt into gaping mouths of horror as Azriel appears from behind you; this tall, ominous presence carrying a vicious reputation for torture.

A High Lords most used weapon—his sharpest sword. “She’s not alone.”

He doesn’t allow you to witness the carnage, but you still see the residuals when it’s all over; blood splattered against the handsome cut of his cheekbone. “My hero,” You drawl out, sinking down to your knees to press a kiss to the hilt of the dagger used to save you. “How could I ever repay you?”

[bullseyebullseye]

lemon curd - sydcarmy excerpt

this is totally sfw, but my blog is 18+! just a little blurb from an upcoming sydcarmy fic ˊᵕˋ

“Uh, you know how we have a few days off?” He sounds nervous. A little apprehensive, maybe. 

Sydney puts her book down and tries to sort through where he could be going with this. “…Yes,” she answers after a long moment. Her stomach flip-flops. “A few days that I am enjoying, thank you,” she chuckles lightly, trying to blanket her nerves. “Why?”

“I, uh, don’t really have shit to do,” he admits. Sydney stifles a laugh. A real one, this time. “I already cleaned my whole apartment and Sug is busy with family stuff, I think. Her family,” he clarifies. “Might do a little research downtown— y’know, see how much good the CTA can do me.”

Sydney smiles. “Aaaand you’re telling me why?” She knows exactly why he called her now, but she kind of wants to hear him say it.

“It’s a little, ah… boring? Like, doing notes and stuff by myself.” He sighs, but Syd can hear a tinge of his smile in his voice. She lets a few moments pass. “I mean, I’d cover your train fare. And, uh, everything else,” he says, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

Syd can picture him, all clean in a white t-shirt and some of his coveted jeans, lounging on his couch while he spoke to her. She smiles harder, not knowing why, but letting her face move anyway. “Sure,” she says, shrugging even though he can’t see it. “I ain’t got shit else to do either.”

And that’s how Sydney Adamu finds herself in the third restaurant of the evening with Carmen Berzatto, spooning a wonderfully bright lemon curd into her mouth and humming. “It’s good, right?” Carmy chuckles, scribbling something down on his notepad. He’s staring at her a little with his ice-blue eyes, and Sydney feels a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

“Would be better with some basil,” she muses. He nods curtly and scrawls more onto the paper. She can see him mouthing out b-a-s-i-l. Her eyes linger on his lips just a little too long. “Or mint?” she mumbles, her mouth still wrapped around the spoon as she writes lemon curd with herbs? shortbread ? in her own notebook.

A very low um reaches her ears and she looks up, the spoon still in her mouth. It’s Carmy, his eyes flicking up from her mouth at the last moment. “Mint sounds good,” he coughs, looking back down at his own notebook. “Yeah, mint sounds really good.” The tips of his pale ears have turned a lush pink.

[winterrrnight]

your best friend rafe holding you because you needed it <3 a bsf!rafe cameron x gn!reader blurb <3 extremely self indulgent cause my touch starvation has been acting up because of my period I think ���� <3 part two to this <3 cw: talks of bottling up emotions, venting, reader breaks down in rafe’s arms, reader is hyper independent, super comforting, lower case is intentional <3

rafe always knew that you had a knack to start putting others before yourself. with the way you made sure everyone else around you was doing okay, but simultaneously forgetting to check in with yourself the same way was becoming a habit for you, and when rafe found about it, he was determined to help you break that habit.

he also knew you weren’t the best at voicing what you needed, let it be just a helping hand for a simple task. he knew you preferred to do everything on your own; but he wanted to change that. he wanted you to ask for help when you needed it, he wanted you to talk about what’s been bothering you instead of attempting to solve it on your own, and he wanted to be that person for you.

he wanted you to trust him irrevocably, just the way he could always trust you.

everytime he ever saw you all alone, he could see you were deep in thought. even from a far distance he could see the gears working overtime in your brain, and all he ever wanted was to provide you a safe space where you can spill out every single thought in your head and begin feeling better. he knew he had begun cracking the hard shell of your mind that protected all your thoughts, but that was the bare minimum. he still hadn’t learnt what he wished he could.

you both were at a party, but you were quick to make your way out of the large, tight crowds without anyone noticing (but rafe did) to the garden of the huge party mansion, where you sat all alone, in that familiar way of your knees hugged to your chest as you just… thought.

“hey,” rafe said softly as he sat down next to you on the lush grass. he had followed you out the moment he saw you left.

usually, you were one to respond with a quick smile and sweet words, because that’s how you were: you had mastered hiding your true feelings behind a facade.

but right now, no words came out. you were silent, your gaze fixed on your knees, and rafe could feel the tension radiating from you.

“drink?” he asked gently, gesturing the red cup in his hand towards you. you just shook your head, mumbled a soft ‘no, thank you’, and let yourself drift in your thoughts.

a silence fell over you two as you heard the thumping bass and the blurry music from inside the party, the indistinct chatter of people inside floating outside to the garden.

you suddenly let out a loud huff, burying your face in your hands. it looked as if you were overwhelmed, completely tired out, and you had way too much on your mind.

he saw you slowly lift your head up from your hands, a shuddering breath escaping you as you rubbed your palms on your thighs, looking around everywhere but at him. he caught a glint in your eye as one of the lights in the garden reflected in your eye; a glint of tears.

“hey hey,” he said softly, keeping the cup in his hand on the side and wrapping his arms firmly around you. he felt you tense at the sudden contact, but you were quick to relax. he figured you were on the edge of breaking down, and the moment he took you in his arms, you tipped off the edge, and the tears began to flow down.

your hands fisted his shirt tightly, as if he’s the only thing keeping you grounded in this overwhelming, confusing moment. your head felt like a mesh of thoughts, not knowing what they all entailed or meant, but what you did know was that it hurt.

rafe tightened his hold around you and let you bury your face in his chest, allowing you to let out as much as you felt like. he didn’t know how many days, weeks, months, years of stress you were carrying with yourself at that moment, things that bothered you immensely but you just kept on burying them in your overfilled heart. he felt his heart shatter at the sight of you breaking down, but he also knew he wanted to get to the bottom of this, and to help you.

“shh… you’re okay, I’m here, I’m here for you,” he whispered softly in your ear, rubbing his hands up and down his back to soothe you.

he felt you tighten your hold on him and squeeze closer to him, your quiet sobs muffled by his chest.

what he didn’t know was how much you craved to hear the words he just told you.

[trud-hub]

Hi does nightwatcher count as a trud char bc they were in the game but got removed

anyways can I request guest666 fluff uhhj cudddling maybe a bit of smoochin

yea she’s so cool I love her

"Grounding"

--TRUD!Guest 666 x Guest!Reader

Note: happy pride month gang !! heres your guest 666 anon. i hope you’re okay with this, ik this is really far from the req and im so sorry this took so long. the info in her wiki is outdated, so i wrote placeholder lore for her (which is why ts blurb took so long im gonna pass out holy shit…)

also srry but nightwatcher isn't in the game as of right now, so i wont be writing for them

Warnings: OOC Guest 666, none of this lore is canon, a little bit of angst (i swear it turns into fluff)

—--

Guest 666 isn't quite sure why she agreed to this.

Lush blades of grass tickle the sides of her back. The weight of your head against her chest is intrusive and restricting. Her sharp claws scratch the top of your head — at times leaving little white lines. You flinch when she does this. When she realizes the pattern, her touch softens by a margin.

She is physically present; feeling every pulse of your heart and every rise of your chest. Yet the way her mind fixates on something that does not seem to exist says otherwise about her focus. It is a thought, several more like. They prey on her in the rare times she is alone – at her most vulnerable. Only now have they gained the audacity to torment her while in your embrace. The unanswered questions in her mind linger: Why does she entertain your late-night getaways? Why does she allow herself these intimate moments with you? 666 does not mince her words. It is of little concern to her if people cannot handle what she has to say.

If she hasn't spoken up till now, it ought to be for another reason. A past scar still inflamed with the pain of loss gives her a suggestion: you’re a Guest. That must be it. You’re the lone time capsule of the life she once lived; the sole person who can understand her desire for vengeance. It’s why her heart, supplied constantly with a surplus of adrenaline, slows when you’re around. No wonder your happiness is infectious — your smile reminds her of jubilees and festivals long-forgotten.

Nostalgia, she tells herself, is all that it is. When you grow tired of her, or if death takes you before it happens, these useless feelings and thoughts will dissipate along with it. Nothing is made to last. Nothing should last.

666 overlooks the worry in your eyes as you meet her gaze one-sidedly. Body language is an important part of communication, hers tells you she’s drowning in her thoughts. Placing a gentle hand on her cheek, your touch brings her back to shore.

‘Thinking again?’ You sign, with a slight tug in the corner of your lips.

The glow of her scarlet irises aligns with the whites of your eyes. Her shoulders droop.

‘Was distracted. Nothing important.’ She signs back. The other Guest presses her forehead against yours, leaving a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose. 

Your face scrunches up in the cute way that she hates. The crease between your brows conveys your hesitancy to drop the topic, but you do so regardless. Sitting up, you sift through your satchel with pursed lips, hand navigating through the jungle of items. 666’s eyes follow your movements, and she too lifts herself from the ground’s embrace.

Strange paraphernalia fly out of your bag: crumpled-up pages, pens without caps, torn bookmarks. With a triumphant smirk, you fish out a camera. Is a moment like this picture-worthy, Guest 666 thinks, as you shove the stray objects back where they came from. There’s little point in convincing you to clear out that portable dumpsite, not like she cares enough to scold you for it, so she merely stares at you like a zoo-goer would a bizarre creature. 

Then, the metal junk is shoved into her face, the lens tinted with a red glare and the faint shimmer of moonlight. Nudging her shoulder with yours, your eyes point to the Polaroid camera.

Reluctantly, her cheeks are pulled upwards to make way for a smile, in juxtaposition to your more natural one.

CLICK!

The moment is captured in a single blindingly bright flash — one that makes 666’s eyes flutter faster than the shutter. Even after the dozens of photos you’ve taken, she still finds herself unaccustomed to the flare. A Polaroid photo slides out of your equipment with a low whir, which you catch with your index and thumb. 

She leans in over your shoulder to take a look at the final product.

‘Opinion?’ You raise your eyebrows. There’s nothing noteworthy about the scenery, or the composition for that matter. No apparent flaws are present, either. It’s like any other photo you’ve taken.

A small nod and the fold of her arms are all she replies with. Satisfied, you tuck it into your pocket and return to your place between her legs. 

666’s fingers twitch with the unresolved doubt of before and lightly tap on your shoulder. You look at her, tilting your head.

‘Why do you take so many pictures?’ 

A bewildered smile forms on your lips, as if she had asked you a question with such an obvious answer. 

‘I want to remember every moment we spent together.’ You reply.

‘Corny.’ She rolls her eyes, to which you respond with a light shove.

‘Not. All experiences with you are precious.’ You state, emphasizing the “you” by prodding your finger onto her chest. 666 holds an unamused expression, which you lean in to kiss. Instead, your lips collide with her palm.

Precious? She doubts that. There is no use in treasuring anything in this world. Not souvenirs, not friendships, and most certainly not people. Death takes no prisoners.

‘Experiences don’t last. They’re not precious.’ 666 furrows her eyebrows.

‘Eternity isn’t what gives memories value.’ Your eyes are downcast.

‘What does, then?’

…

‘Being in the moment. Living in them does.’

‘If you focus too much on comparing experiences to the past, or how long they’ll eventually end in the future — no wonder you cannot love what they are in the present.’

Slipping your hand back into your back pocket, you retrieve the recent photo. You tap her hand, which she outstretches readily, and place the image in its warmth.

‘Keep this one.’

The celestial glow of the moon steals your attention. Your hands no longer move, instead, they rest on your stomach.

666 looks at the Polaroid photo in her hands. It depicts no important achievement or anniversary. Only for today, though, is it given a special meaning. At last, she notices the stray strand of hair that blocks your face, the white glow the photo is enshrouded in, and the overall serenity of the scene.

Leaning her chin on the crown of your head and intaking your scent, her arms wrap around your figure in a loose embrace. Under the starry, moonlit sky, she shares her warmth with you.

She has a better adjective to describe the feeling of you pressed against her now.

Grounding.

[gxldenlush]

🪻ℰ𝓋𝒶𝓃𝑔ℯ𝓁𝒾𝓃ℯ

The soft glow of the tv is the only source of light in Matts living room. He invited me over for a movie night, we ended up watching disney movies.

We’ve watched Tangled, Beauty and the Beast, Moana, and now we’re watching my all-time favourite. The Princess and the Frog.

“Do you think that the stars from this are the same stars from Peter Pan?” I look up at my boyfriend of three years from my position where my head is on his shoulder.

“Huh, I never thought of that. Maybe.. We should watch that next”

“Definitely”

A happy silence falls upon us again, before I speak up once more.

“The song that Ray sings for Evangeline is the song I want for my first dance at my wedding.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s just such a pretty song, you know?”

He doesn’t answer as the song starts play softly on the TV. Matt stands up and holds his hand out for me to take. I look up at him confused.

“What?”

“C’mon, hurry before the song ends” Matt smiles down at me as I take his hand and stand up in front of him.

He leads me around the coffee table and spins me once. I get the idea of what he wants now, smiling widely.

Matt pulls me close, my head laying against his chest as he rests his ontop of mine. We sway calmly to the music.

And I love you, Evangeline…

Matt takes my hand and pulls away, he pulls me back to spin me into him, my back against his chest, he spins me back out and pulls me in again. He spins me around a few times before I put my arms around his neck again and his hands rest on my waist. As the song slows to a stop, he dips me slowly the same way Naveen dips Tiana at the end of the song.

When Matt pulls me back up to stand, he plants a soft kiss to my lips which I happily return. “I love you”

“I love you more”

We go back to the couch and Matt pulls me back to lay my head on his chest, his arm going around my shoulders, his hand in my hair as he kisses my head.

“Y/n?”

“hm?”

“You’re my Evangeline”

———

@mattscoquette

[cambion-companion]

I Hate That I Love You

When the lines become blurred. When carefully laid plans of devils and men run awry, as they so often do.

Raphael x reader/Tav blurb

Ne'er before had Raphael burned. The aching pain of a stunted emotion unrealized, unspoken. One that he raged against.

"Mortals are fodder." He muttered to himself, yet again finding himself thinking of one mortal in particular. The thorn in his side, simultaneously a fragrant blossom within his garden.

He was waiting, hoping they showed up at his doorstep.

He dipped his quill into the porcelain pot of ink, gilded like everything he owned. A drop of scarlet ink splattered like blood on the parchment. "For the crown. For power eternal."

The truth remained at the edge of his mind, held at bay by his own considerable force of will. His conflicting nature raging against itself. Contradicting, overlapping, wanting everything and yet knowing everything would never be enough.

Raphael was pleased with how quickly you sought him out. He had announced his nature and presence to the Madam of the pleasure house. To lure in more despairing souls to feed from. Nothing to do with you of course.

Yet there you stood, brazen and proud, smirking at him as your bright eyes took in his petal-strewn suite. You carried the scent of victory and desperation upon your flushed skin. Raphael was no fool, he felt the tension practically scalding the air between your bodies.

He gave a polite bow, placing a hand over his heart and extending his other to the lavish room. He wished to draw you in by your waist and taste the salt of your sweat with his tongue, mold his fingers against your flesh and draw sweet sounds from your lush mouth.

There would be time for that later. He had lusted after the crown of Karsus for centuries, because of you it was now within his grasp. Soon, you would be as well.

[coryosmin]

nsfw | mdni | part two of this blurb

warnings: mutual masturbation, pinv, fem!reader x best friend! perv! sejanus, unprotected sex

the following days after sej had walked in on you changing had been a bit awkward. he kept avoiding your gaze when you talked with him at the academy, he avoided being alone with you for long periods of time, and whenever you’d ask him to come over, he’d give excuses. and to be frank, you were fed up. sej was your best friend above anything else. above him being attracted to you and above you being attracted to him.

so when you walked to the plinth’s apartment on a mission, you walked there on a mission. it was a saturday so you guys didn’t have school at all. you were dressed in a simple casual dress. you knocked on the door of the plinth’s apartment and a maid answered, immediately welcoming you inside the apartment. Ma and Strabo Plinth weren’t there you realized. But you knew sej was because the maid wouldn’t have let you in otherwise.

so you walked over to sej’s room and knocked on the door. you heard the faint “come in” of sej’s voice. you walked into his bedroom, seeing sejanus laying on his bed reading a book. he was dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and a sweatshirt as he laid on his lush pillows. “oh!” his eyes widened as he saw you. “i-i didn’t know you were coming,” he said, his cheeks immediately going red.

“would you have even answered if you knew i was coming?” you scoffed, rolling you eyes as you closed the door behind you. you walked up to his bed, standing at the end of it with your arms crossed. “you’ve been avoiding me.” you said bluntly. “and i don’t like it.”

sejanus looked up at you, biting his lip. he closed the book he was reading, placing it on his lap. “you’re right,” he said slowly. “i have.”

you frowned. “why?” you asked, whispering. his avoiding you clearly affected you more than you had originally realized.

sejanus took a deep breath. “i-“ he began. “after what had happened… i felt embarrassed.” he exclaimed, sighing. “i literally came in my pants from just seeing your boobs. that’s just so embarrassing.” he sighed, rolling his eyes as he thought about himself doing that. “i felt like you would’ve made fun of me for it.” sejanus admitted, looking down at his hands.

your gaze softened as you looked at sejanus. “sej, i would never make fun of you for something like that,” you exclaimed, your voice tender as you spoke to him. “i-i actually found it really hot.” you stuttered.

sejanus’s eyes widened as he looked at you. “really?” he said, looking up at you.

you licked your lips, nodding your head. “yes really.” you said. you were already admitting you found it hot, why not admit some more things? “god when you left, i touched myself so much that night.”

sejanus let out a shaky breath as you said those words, an obvious bulge forming in his sweatpants. “fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

you bit your lip, looking down at his crotch before looking back in his face. “i-i could show you,” you offered, playing with the hem of your dress.

sejanus inhaled sharply as he realized what you were insinuating. he nodded his head. “i-i’d like that,” he replied, moving over in his bed so that you could lay down next to him.

you smiled a bit shyly at him as you pulled off your dress, revealing your black laced undergarments. sejanus let out a small whimper as he saw you, unable to help it from escaping his mouth. you smiled at the sound as you unclasped your bra, tossing it onto the floor before taking your panties off. you looked at sej before laying down next to him. “i’m a bit nervous,” you murmured.

“you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” sejanus said genuinely.

you shook your head. “i want to.” you replied. “but…maybe you could do it too?”

sejanus nodded his head. “of course.” he murmured. he grabbed his shirt, taking it off of his body and throwing it to the side before doing the same with his sweatpants.

you looked down at his cock, feeling yourself get wetter. he was so girthy and you couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath. licking your lips, you spread your legs. you pressed your thigh against sejanus’s as you brought your right hand down to your pussy, spreading your wetness around. “am so wet for you, sej.” you said softly.

sejanus watching you, let out a soft groan. he brought his hand down to his cock, gripping himself. “yeah?” he replied.

“mhm.” you replied. you began to slowly rub your clit, turning your head to look at sejanus. his face was right next to yours as you guys laid next to each other. sejanus began to move his hand up and down his shaft slowly. “always wet for you.” you murmured as you continued to rub your clit.

“fuck,” he whispered, his eyes fluttering shut. his hand continued to move up and down, jerking himself off. “am always so hard for you,” he said, opening his eyes to look at you again.

your inserted a finger into yourself, causing you to let out a soft moan. you thrusted your finger in and out of your pussy, the sounds of how wet you are filling up the room. sejanus looked down at your hand moving in and out of you. he licked his lips before looking at your eyes. you added another finger, curling them inside of you. you let out another moan, causing sejanus to shutter.

“oh fuck,” you moaned out, thrusting your fingers in and out of yourself, hitting your g-spot. you moved them a bit faster.

sejanus followed your pace, jerking himself off a bit faster as well. “fuck,” he moaned, still looking at you.

“wish it was your cock, sej.” you moaned, your free hand cupping your left boob. “wanna fuck you so much.” you massaged your nipple.

“fuck, baby,” sej moaned, closing his eyes. the term of endearment just slipping past his lips. but you whined, loving the name. “wanna fuck you too. make you cum on my cock.”

“wanna cum on your cock so bad,” you whined, fucking yourself with your fingers.

sejanus moaned, opening his eyes to look at your face again. you looked so pretty. your cheeks were flushed, your hair sprawled out on his pillows. you were oh so wet. sejanus leaned in to kiss your lips, gently pressing his lips against yours as you both continued to get yourselves off. you kissed him back, stopping your movements to focus on kissing sejanus.

sejanus took his hand off of his cock, caressing your cheek as he kissed you. your lips were so soft and warm, he felt like he was on cloud nine. your fingers left your pussy as you used your hand to caress his cheek as well making your juices go on his cheek.

sejanus leaned into you, adjusting himself so he was on top of you while he kissed you. you let out a soft moan of contentment, wrapping your arms around his neck. he pulled away from the kiss, holding himself up with his hands. “gonna fuck you,” he whispered to you.

you nodded your head. “please do,” you responded.

sejanus gave you a small smile as he brought his hand between your bodies, guiding his cock to your entrance. “fuck, you are soaking wet,” he groaned as he let the tip rub across your pussy before easing himself into you with a moan.

you moaned back, closing your eyes in pleasure. you hadn’t felt so full in awhile. “fuck, you’re so big inside of me, sej,” you moaned.

sejanus let out a shaky breath. “you’re so tight around me, baby,” he said, leaning into to kiss you again.

as you guys kissed, sejanus began to thrust his hips slowly, relishing in the feeling of your pussy on his cock. your walls were so tight, he felt oh-so-good. he pulled away from the kiss to bury himself in the crook of your neck, kissing it and sucking on your pulse point.

you moaned loudly as his cock moved inside of you. he felt so good inside of you, stretching you out exactly how you had hoped. “f-faster,” you stuttered, your leg wrapping around him to bring his cock deeper inside of you.

sejanus moaned against your neck, moving his hips faster causing his cock to go deeper. you moaned loudly as he hit your g-spot, arching your back. he brought a hand to massage your boobs as he pulled away from your neck to look at your face. “you’re so pretty, baby. gonna make you feel so good, so so good.”

you whined at the praise, enjoying the words that sejanus spoke to you. “feels so good, sej,” you said. “am so close, so so close.”

“me too, baby, me too.” he moaned, kissing your lips.

he moved his hips faster, chasing both of your orgasms. you felt yourself orgasm approaching quickly causing you to pull away from the kiss to throw your head back in pleasure. sejanus began to nip at your neck, feeling his orgasm approaching as well.

your body began to quiver as you came, your walls clamping down on sej’s cock. you let out a high pitched moan while you came. sejanus moaned as well, cumming inside of you with ropes and ropes of cum.

and when the two of you came down from your highs, sej pulled out and laid down next to you. both of you were breathing heavily. you looked over at sej who looked over at you. no words were spoken as you guys looked into each other’s eyes.

and then you both began to laugh together. because you both just fucked your best friend.

[liberalk1tsch]

Horrid prompt: Haymitch figures out the gum drops were poisoned when he feeds one to Lenora Doves geese, he now knows Snows after Lenora Dove, his(and Miss Doves) life becomes a living hell as he tries to save her.

fantastic prompt actually! i just wrote a wee blurb of what it could be, but i actually really like this idea🩷🩷

I toss a gumdrop to the goose on my right, the bloodred candy landing faceup in the grass, its deep color so stark against the lush green of the meadow. I shut my eyes tightly. My Dove’s in front of me, I know this. But all I can think of is another dove. Another meadow. Where the ruby red color is slick, dripping from a severed head.

I feel Lenore Dove’s hand on my arm, pulling me back into this world, and for a moment I think she’s trying to comfort me, my girl, but her grip on me tightens, and the panicked look on her face tells me there’s something far worse going on.

"No!"

I look to the gosling that’s snatched up Lenore Dove’s gumdrop, hear it start to honk in distress, flapping its wings wildly. The young goose collapses, trembling on the ground. Its honks quickly dissolve into wheezes, coming slower and more irregularly from her foaming mouth with each breath, until finally, they just stop, and with a final twitch of her little webbed foot, she’s gone. No more than a minute or two gone by.

Lenore Dove falls to her knees, trying desperately to revive the poor creature, but her efforts are in vain.

I don’t know geese, not like my girl, but these past few weeks have taught me a thing or two about poison. And I know precisely where these gumdrops have come from. Who they’ve come from.

Tears stream down Lenore Dove’s face as she strokes the feathers on top of the head of the dead bird, cradling her with her other arm. "It’s all right. It’s okay. Say ‘hi’ to Mama, sweet girl."

I dump out the contents of the candy bag into my palm. The bag is the Donners’, but the gumdrops aren’t their multicolored beauties. No, these ones are all red. The color of blood. The color of death.

My heart drops into my stomach.

"We have to go, darling," I manage to choke out. I stuff the bag of poison in my pocket, and I know my idea of taking to the woods is no longer a question, not if I want to keep my love alive.

She looks up at me in bewilderment, eyes swimming in silvery tears. "Go? Go where?"

"Away," I say. "The lake, maybe farther. We’ll get some gear from Burdock." I take a deep breath. "You’ll never be safe here as long as I’m alive, but I can’t live without you." I kneel down, taking her hands in mine. "If we stay here, you’re dead. Snow will see to that."

"I’m not afraid of him," she says stubbornly.

"You should be!" I grab her shoulders, as if trying shake some sense into her. "He murdered Ma and Sid! He just killed your goose!"

Her eyes widen as understanding dawns on her. "What did you do, Haymitch?"

"Does it matter?" I ask. "You’re not safe. We need to go."

"No, I suppose it doesn’t," she says, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. "Whatever it is, I trust you were only doing what’s right." A smile plays on her lips. "I must’ve missed quite the show, huh?"

"You have no idea," I huff, rubbing the back of my neck. "So you’ll come with me?"

"Darling, I’d follow you anywhere."

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

A Broken Ankle, Karma Rules.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - another random idea that popped into my head… enjoy!!

word count - 1.4k

in which, going on a run with your fiancé of two years means harmless flirting and teasing, that is until an incident occurs and he has to carry you back to the car.

As you sat in the passenger seat of your fiancé's sleek Tesla, the soft hum of the engine filled the air. The anticipation of going on a run together at the park was palpable, as you both waited for the perfect moment to step out of the car and immerse yourselves in the fresh air and lush greenery.

You glanced over at Harry, your heart swelling with love and excitement. His curly hair framed his face in a charming disarray, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. He wore a mischievous grin, as if he knew a secret that only the two of you shared.

"Ready for our run, m’love?" Harry asked, his voice filled with eagerness.

You nodded, smiling back at him. "Definitely! Although, I have to say, you're lucky I agreed to this. Dragging me out of bed at this hour is no easy feat."

Harry knew for a fact that you weren’t a morning person.

Harry chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, come on now. You know I couldn't resist spending this time with you. Besides, it's good for us to get our blood pumping early in the morning."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Well, I hope you appreciate the effort I'm putting in here. I'm not exactly a morning person, you know."

He leaned in, his voice turning husky. "I'll make it worth your while, darling. I promise."

Feeling a surge of anticipation, you reached for your water bottles and grabbed the car keys. "Alright, let's do this! Time to step out and conquer that park."

You both hopped out of the car, the cool breeze enveloping you. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a single AirPod, holding it up to you.

"Shall we share the music?" he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

You grinned and took the AirPod, placing it delicately in your ear, the familiar chords of ‘eye of the river’ rang through your ears, that was enough to get you motivated for the run.

As the music started to play, you noticed that Harry had already started moving, his athletic figure bounding ahead.

His back was bare seeing as the weather was insanely hot currently and he was wearing a pair of blue running shorts, and his pink Calvin kelvin’s were on display.

You could feel yourself getting slightly worked up, the cheeky git always did then when the two of you were in public.

"Hey, wait up!" you called after him, a mix of laughter and exhilaration in your voice.

He slowed down, turning back to you with a playful grin. "You better catch up, love. We've got a run to conquer together."

As you jogged side by side with your fiancé Harry, the rhythmic sound of your footsteps echoed through the crisp morning air. The park was alive with activity, but your focus remained on the playful banter and connection between you.

As you chatted about your plans for the day, Harry couldn't resist a mischievous grin. With a sudden motion, he playfully reached out and tickled your hips, causing you to let out a surprised giggle and slow down.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, swatting his hand away. "That's not fair! You're distracting me!"

Harry laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I couldn't resist. You were just too tempting. But now, I'm afraid you'll have to catch up to me.”

A competitive fire ignited within you, and you shot him a determined glance. "Challenge accepted, slowpoke. Get ready to eat my dust."

With a burst of energy, you picked up the pace and raced past Harry, your feet pounding against the pavement. The wind rushed through your hair as you surged forward, leaving him momentarily in your wake.

Glancing over your shoulder, you called out with a triumphant smile, "Come on, Harry! I thought you said you were a professional runner!"

Harry laughed, his voice filled with mock protest. "Oh, you're in for it now! Just you wait, I'll catch up!"

You continued to push yourself, feeling the thrill of the friendly competition fueling your every stride. The playful taunts and laughter added a layer of joy to the run, reminding you of the deep connection you shared.

Soon enough, Harry's footsteps grew louder behind you as he closed the gap. With a final burst of determination, he ran alongside you, matching your pace.

"There you are," Harry said, a playful grin on his face. "I told you I'd catch up."

You grinned back, the exhilaration of the run shining in your eyes. "Well, I had to give you a head start, didn't I? Just to make it a fair race."

Harry's laughter echoed through the park as you both continued to run side by side, the competitive spirit subsiding to be replaced by a shared sense of joy and camaraderie.

You know, Harry," you said with a playful smirk, "I think I might have to start calling you 'Slowpoke' as your official nickname."

Harry chuckled, his competitive spirit ignited. "Oh, really? We'll see about that. Prepare to eat my dust, love."

With a wink, you took off, your feet hitting the pavement with purpose. You could hear Harry's footsteps behind you, gradually fading as you increase your pace.

Feeling mischievous, you decided to test the limits. You picked up even more speed, savouring the thrill of the wind rushing past you. Unbeknownst to you, Harry slowed down, taking a short water break to quench his thirst.

As you continued to jog ahead, revelling in the playfulness of the moment, your foot caught on an uneven patch of ground, causing you to lose your balance. Pain shot through your ankle, and you let out a cry of distress.

Hearing your scream, Harry's heart skipped a beat. Without a second thought, he abandoned his water bottle and sprinted in the direction of your voice. Fear and concern propelled him forward, his mind focused on reaching you as quickly as possible.

When he finally caught sight of you, lying on the ground and cradling your injured ankle, his heart sank. Kneeling down beside you, he gently cupped your face with his hands.

"Love, are you okay? What happened?" Harry asked, his voice filled with worry.

You winced, tears welling up in your eyes. "I... I think I’ve broken… my ankle. It hurts so much, H..Harry."

Concern etched across his face, Harry carefully examined your ankle. "Let me help you up. We'll get you to the hospital, alright?"

As Harry saw the pain etched on your face, he made a firm decision. "Lovie, I'm going to carry you to the car. I don't want you putting any weight on that ankle."

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. "O-okay, H…. Thank you."

Gently, Harry scooped you up in his arms, his strength enveloping you. Despite his efforts to be careful, each step caused a jolt of pain to shoot through your ankle. Whimpers escaped your lips, and you clung tightly to him, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

The sobs that wracked your body echoed in the air, and Harry's heart ached at the sound. He tightened his hold on you, his voice filled with soothing reassurance. "Shh, love. I'm here. I've got you. Just hold on, we're almost back at the car."

His comforting words offered a glimmer of solace amidst the pain. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, and his steady heartbeat served as a calming rhythm. He continued to carry you, navigating the path with careful steps, determined to get you to safety as quickly as possible.

With each passing moment, his tender support and unwavering presence began to ease the anguish. You clung to him, seeking solace in his embrace, knowing that you were not alone in this moment of vulnerability.

Finally, you reached the car, and Harry gently settled you in the passenger seat. He quickly moved around to the driver's side, his eyes filled with concern as he started the engine.

"You're doing so well, love," he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness. "We'll get you to the hospital, it’s bruising really quickly, m'love, and I'll take care of you."

As the car pulled away from the park, you let out another sob, the emotions overwhelming you. Harry reached over, taking your hand in his, his touch a comforting anchor in the midst of your pain.

He glanced at you, his eyes filled with compassion. "It's alright to cry, love. Let it out. I'm here for you."

That was the last time you were going to be narcissistic ever again if this is what it led to.

But you know what they say:

Broken Ankle, Karma Rules.

[zablife]

a cillian request for you! maybe when cillian comes home after being tommy shelby and he’s having trouble setting back in so you help him feel more like himself 💕

Ooh, I adore this ask! Tysm for sending it my way, lovely! I've written a quick blurb below I hope you'll enjoy! (Note: contains smut 🔞)

"Babe, you're doing it again," you frowned, watching your boyfriend march across the garden with shoulders pulled back tightly, arms awkwardly held from his sides as he stomped through the grass toward the table you'd set for dinner.

Cillian stopped immediately, looking down to see he was in fact in the Tommy Shelby stance. "Fuck...I can't seem to shake it," he admitted, arms lowering slightly.

You rushed in to hug him as you smiled warmly. "It's alright, I like a bit of Tommy with my salad."

Cillian chuckled at your deflection, then sighed heavily. "It's been three weeks since I was on set. I don't know why I can't rid myself of him."

You kissed up his chiseled jawbone in an attempt to soothe him as you replied, "You're too good at your work. Can't be helped if you bring him home with you."

Cillian rested his chin on your shoulder as he sadly confessed, "I don't want to bring him home. You deserve better."

Your hand slide beneath his jumper, rubbing circles into his flesh as you assured him, "You are. You're everything I want."

You felt the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth before you pulled away to look and it warmed your heart. Cillian was beaming and for the first time in months, you spied his signature smile and not the cockiness of Tommy Shelby's cool stare.

"I love you," you murmured against his lips.

"And I love you," he exhaled deeply, leaning in to feel the gentle press of your lips agains his.

"Although I wouldn't mind if Tommy reappeared tonight for a short while," you whispered, biting your lip in anticipation of the rough fuck Cillian had grown accustomed to when he was short of time. The quickies in his trailer had been something altogether different from your usual lovemaking and you couldn't say that you didn't miss it now. Those were some of the wildest times you'd spent together, clothes pushed aside and mouths frantic for one another. It made you wet just thinking about it.

"Need you," you mumbled into his mouth absently, still half caught in daydream.

"What? Here?" he asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Isn't that what Tommy would do?" you reminded him, pulling him onto the lush grass with you.

"You've got me there," he acquiesced, grabbing your leg and pulling it over him so you sat astride.

You moaned into his neck as you rolled your hips, desire creeping up on you with record speed. Then to your delight Cillian pushed you onto your back, hands pawing down your front until he reached your underwear.

"Are we really going to do this?" you gasped, feeling exposed in the cool night air. He didn't answer, fingers slipping past your wet folds and pushing into you until he had you panting.

"You're going to do anything I ask," he said, voice dipping into the dark register of Tommy's voice.

The words caught in your throat, only able to nod in response.

"That's what I thought," he said, pressing his hard length into your thigh. Sliding your dress up to your waist, he jerked your underwear from you.

"Fuck me, Tommy!" you moaned and he stopped short, eyebrow quirked in playful challenge. A giggle erupted from you in breathless pants. "I-I'm sorry, darling. I got carried away," you giggled.

"Let's see if there's anything else you can say," he said with wicked promise, pulling his erect cock from his trousers.

Plunging into you with one deep thrust, he shuddered as you clamped down on him.

"Cilian!" you shouted, feeling the exquisite stretch of him within you.

Without further discussion he pleasured you until his name was the only one on your lips, all mention of Tommy forgotten completely.