#i only had one drawing of this stage rip

[popamolly]

‘ INTERNAL REDEMPTION ’ LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR

summary. In the fiery depths, she captures the attention of Lucifer, who senses a unique purity in her soul. With his help, (Y/N) finds herself on the path to redemption and self-discovery with dangerous trouble along the way.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

warnings. lucifer morningstar x stripper!fem!reader, she/her pronouns, valentino exists, eventual smut, mention of death, biblical references, sex work, sexual themes, trauma, abuse, murder

author’s note. inspired by @punching-pentagrams and their amazing ongoing story “Love In as Hopeless Place”, it encouraged me to write my own fic about Lucifer. go check out their story, it is so good and deserves more love!

In the dimly lit, pulsating world of Club Elysium, where the air was thick with anticipation and desire, a mysterious aura surrounded a captivating figure on the stage. Under the flickering neon lights, you moved with a mesmerizing grace that defied the earthly realm. Dressed in glistening attire that caught the reflections of the vibrant hues around her, you became an ethereal presence, drawing the attention of every gaze in the room.

Your movements were a dance of contradictions – an alluring blend of sensuality and innocence. You twirled and swayed to the rhythm of the music, casting a spell upon the enchanted audience.

Unbeknownst to the patrons of Club Elysium, you were more than just an exotic dancer seeking to enthrall with her physical prowess. Your celestial grace, forgotten in the afterlife coil she now inhabited, manifested in the subtle elegance of her performance. As you moved, you felt a distant echo of a certain purpose, an inexplicable connection to something beyond the neon-lit stage.

In the hazy ambiance, Valentino, the enigmatic owner of Club Elysium, watched from the shadows, his eyes reflecting one of red burning lust, but it was more than just lust for you— no, it was something more— it was a thirst for power that had him grinning from ear to ear. Valentino knew that in this corner of Hell he owned everything, even you.

As the music reached its crescendo, your dance reached its zenith. The room held its breath, suspended in a moment where hell and celestial intertwined. You were always the ballerina in the jelwery box, the beautiful antique that Valentino had in his grasp to show off and praise. Though he may own you outside the building you made sure to show him through your dancing, that you were the one that owned the stage. He hated when you went off script or changed the choreography but you made sure to do it on purpose and on nights you knew he was watching you.

That was your little dose of rebellion, a little taste of freedom you could only wish to have. You were content with your situation though, it could’ve been worse. At least with Valentino you were paid, clothed, and feed with an overall decent place to live. Being one of his toys had its perks— you couldn’t complain. Especially when there were those who had it so much worse than you.

“You jus’ love angerin’ him, don’t you doll?” Your coworker, Angel Dust, asked as you entered the dressing room that you and the other dancers shared. The smell of makeup and cheap perfume filled your senses, calming you with the sense of familiarity, “Cause last I checked, that wasn’t what we rehearsed.”

“Well,” You chuckled as you sat on the couch, its fabric ripped and white stuffing nearly popping out the sides, “I just thought that my choreo was better, and by the sound of that crowd and the money on stage, it was.”

“Heh,” Angel couldn’t help but envy your confidence when it came to Valentino, who owned you both in more ways than one and yet you always found a way to yank on the chains without consequence. A part of Angel loathed you for it.

You could sense the mood shift in Angel, not that you cared but you weren’t exactly heartless either. With a sigh, you get up from the couch, ignoring your aching feet as you join Angel’s side, looking into the vanity mirror so you could touch up your makeup, “Trust me, if my act wasn’t purity and innocence it would be a different story. Lucky for me, bruises and marks on my body wouldn’t sell too well.”

“Yeah, count it on luck shortcake.” With that Angel left, pushing another girl out the way angrily while snatching the drink out her hand. You could only sigh, not intending on upsetting him more but as always, your intentions don’t matter when your words spoke otherwise. It had been so long since you had a decent human connection, you were just a bit rusty.

“My sweets,” The sudden sound of Valentino’s voice had the room go silent, the air becoming so thick you were sure you’d might suffocate in it, “Can I have the room please?”

With hushed scared whispers and nervous glances, you and the other girls make your way to the door. You had hoped you could sneak past him under the cover of the other women who all but rushed passed Valentino but his slender hand caught your forearm quick, gripping it with such force that you were slightly shocked by the pain he caused— it wasn’t like him to be rough with you, “Not you, darling. We have to have a chat, don’t we mio caro?”

You turn to look at him with a frown, “About what? My performance?”

“Oh I would love to talk about that little stunt you pulled but I need you for something a bit more important,” Valentino yanks you further into the room, locking the door behind him with his other hand before slinging you against the vanity, bottles of perfume falling over and onto the ground as the desk shakes violently. Your employer towers over you with ease making you shudder beneath his fiery gaze, “I need something done and I need it done right, I trust that you can accomplish this task, yes?”

What shit was he getting you into now? You were done with porn, you had paid a hefty price to alter your contract with him and you weren’t going to slip back into the void now, not when you were so far ahead, “I won’t be one of your pornstars, Val. We had a deal.”

Valentino laughs, his pointy fingernail dragging along your cheek while he licks his lips, “This isn’t about that principessa, this is a more delicate matter. Think you’re up for it?”

“I don’t have much of a choice do I?” You yank your head away from his hands, lowering your gaze into a slight glare.

“This is why I always liked you, dove. You learn quick.”

“If you were going to tell me to send in a whore Val, I wouldv’e just asked you to send Angel Dust!” Vox glitched with anger, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration as he turned around in his chair, his claw like hands gripping onto the table with such force that it left a mark, “What makes this slut is any different from him?!”

It was hard to bite back your tongue but you did, unwillingly submitting to your role as you stood before the V’s with your eyes to the ground, not daring to even look as confident at you usually were. Not because you were scared of them, no, you were scared of embarrassing Valentino. Your boss might have forgiven you for your countless stunts but when it came to matters of business with the V’s, you knew your place.

“Angel dust thinks he is on this path to redemption, let him stay in his delusion but until I can break him fully he will never be loyal to me. Not as loyal as (Y/N) here…” Valentino wraps his hand around your neck, forcing your head up to look at Vox— who for a split second was taken back by your beauty, “I have broken (Y/N) time and time again, she would do anything for me, isn’t that right (Y/N)?”

You closed your eyes, “Yes, Valentino.”

“Good.” Valentino pushes you toward Vox, making you stumble into him, forcing him to catch you in his arms, “Quite the vixen, she would surely catch the eyes of any overlord.”

“Even the King of Hell himself?” Vox tips your chin up with his index finger, looking into your eyes with a devilishly grin that makes you shiver.

“Asmodeus throws the biggest parties in the Pride Ring that is filled with all kinds of debauchery, especially for his birthday.” Valentino explains, leaning back in his chair as he crosses his right leg over the other, exhaling out a long drag of pink smoke, “Every one of importance will be there since it isn’t just a party but a show of status.”

“And..what? Your pretty toy is just supposed to waltz in there and get the attention of any overlord that wants to fuck her?” Velvette finally tears her gaze away from her phone, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Well it is an important party of one of Lucifer’s friends—”

“Which means he is bound to be there.” Vox grins, “Get close to the king and we get closer to controlling Hell.”

“And what makes you so sure he’ll entertain such..” Velvette looks at you with a roll of her eyes, “From what I hear Lucifer is loyal to Lilith, no one has seen him with another woman on his arm and it’s been 7 years, hashtag faithful.”

“Ah, well, 7 years is a long time to go without intimacy…I say the man is touch starved and would like some attention.” Valentino says, “Anyone can still get lonely, no matter how faithful.”

“I like the way you think Val,” Vox grips your chin as you grit your teeth. “And I think your little whore here will do just nicely.”

Before you know it was the day of Asmodeus’ birthday party. The V’s gave you the run down of the plan and how you were supposed to get close to the King of Hell himself— who you haven’t even seen in person for as long as you been hell. Which was a few years by now. You were a simple lowlife, you kept to yourself and tried to survive, only to end up within his grasp. Was he as cruel as people say? ‘What sort of question is that? Of course he was! He was the King of fucking Hell, which last time you checked, wasn’t given to just anyone.’

Of all the people, of everyone in Hell, it just has to be you. Because of your cursed deal with Val, you were stuck in a continuous limbo that you couldn’t escape from. Damn you and your loyalty, damn it all if it will end up with you dead ( again ) on the steps of Lucifer’s palace. This wasn’t fair— but then again, when has your situation ever been fair?

“Oh, you look just like a doll.” Valentino ruffled with the fake angel wings that adorned your back, fixing and prodding with whatever to make you more presentable, “Like an angel. Hell, upon just a glance mio caro you might have been able to get away with actually being one.”

And as you glance at your reflection in the mirror you felt a sudden sharp pain in the center of your forehead. Only fragments of memories came flooding your mind like a crashing wave. It was all so blurry but the word Angel held some sort of weight on you but you couldn’t place exactly what.

You held onto your head, trying to steady your breathing and relaxing your nerves as Valentino continues to add the finishing touches to your look.

“Get it together, dove.” Valentino meets your gaze in the reflection, “I hope you won’t disappoint me.”

“No..” The pain in your head quickly fades away as soon as it came, “I can do this.”

“Good, because it is just about your turn to be presented for the auction.”

The auction. Asmodeus does it for sport at every single one of his parties but now that this is his birthday party, this auction is the biggest one yet. It is where he finds Hell’s most beautiful prized possessions, not limiting to actual sinners. The hope was to capture Lucifer’s attention as he would be in the crowd through this angel facade, and pray that he would bet on you. And if that didn’t work, then you would have to move on to plan B. And you didn’t like plan b.

Valentino wished you luck as you stood behind the curtain to the center stage, disappearing into the shadows to leave you on your own and this mission that was screwed from the get go.

“And last but not least, I present to you—! what is the object’s name again?” The announcer whispers, putting his microphone away from his face to get a confirmation from another employee, “Ah! The pure and innocent, (Y/N)!”

The curtain suddenly opens, the spotlight from above blinding you in away that made you shield your eyes from the brightness. You squint, looking upon a sea of red lustful eyes looking over your figure with curiosity. You take a deep breath, as you played the part of a shy girl, slowly bringing your hands to cover yourself even though the white thin laced gown left little to the imagination.

“Hubba hubba! Would you look at that boys?” Asmodeus’ eyes nearly turn into hearts at the sight of you, “And I thought nothing could even look so angelic in Hell!”

“What a beaut’” Mammon agrees.

“Indeed.” Lucifer sat beside his friends, trying to cover his boredom with peaked interest as he looks in your direction. This whole thing was pretty fucked up to him but that was just the way of life down here, there’s no changing that— no changing people when it is just in their nature. Now usually he wouldn’t indulge such things but he was the King of Hell, and he had to play the part to maintain order even though he longed for nothing but to be constructing rubber ducks right now.

“500!” A man in the crowd closer to the stage shouts.

The announcer points in the man’s direction with enthusiasm, “I hear 500! What about 550? Do I hear 550?”

“600!” Another shouts.

“600 to the gentleman in red! But do I hear a 650? 650?”

Asmodeus sits back in his seat, taking another swig of his whiskey. Mammon looks at his friend in disbelief as the unknown sinners below them begin to shout various of numbers for you, “Is she not to the Lustful Overlords taste?”

“Ah, I have so many who do the innocent act. It gets boring after awhile. But if you’re interested…you should buy her.” Asmodeus smirks, shaking the single ice cube in his glass as he signals to the waitress for another.

“She ain’t my type, but—” Mammon gets a sudden idea, “Lucifer should have her. I’m sure he gets off to the Angel shit don’t you your highness?”

Lucifer tips his hat up with his cane, “I am married.”

“To a woman who you haven’t seen in seven years!” Asmodeus rolls his eyes with a loud groan before raising his hand to join the bid, “Lighten up! Good sir, I say 2500!”

“What a doozy! 2500! 2500! Do I hear 3000!?” The announcer nearly jumps from his stool at the amount offered, “Going once! Going twice—!”

“Asmodeus.” Lucifer warned. Not wanting any part in this sinful behavior.

The sound of a gavel rang through the air, finalizing the amount, “And sold to the gentleman in VIP! Your prize will wait outback until you are ready to retrieve it! Enjoy!”

Just like that the plan was working. In just less than five minutes you were sold off like some prize. Your life being in yet another’s hands that wasn’t your own, it was a bit ironic since this life is almost just the same as the one you led on Earth. It was getting harder and harder to distinguish which one was truly Hell.

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost in any other social media.

Be sure to leave a comment & let me know if you want to added to the tag list for this story so you’re updated whenever I drop a new chapter! xo

#𖤐popamollyposts #𖤐popamolly #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel characters #hazbin hotel fiction #hazbin hotel smut #smut #female reader #love #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust

[blue-jisungs]

Hii! I hope you're having a nice day or night I would like to request Skz reacting to their idol!s/o performing on MAMA Awards with a very cool and dark concept with their own group, something similar to Itzy's 2021 Mama performance or (G)I-DLE's MMA 2022 performance? Ty!!!

s/o performing on MAMA with dark concept ♡

author's note. thank u for the req!! i hope u like the outcome ^^ i tried my best, i added some like,, solo stage moments??

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

so so so soooo proud

staring at you in awe all the time like,, with all due respect to your members – he’s mesmerized

not only by your beauty, duh but your outfit is something that he just can’t help but stare

he’s extremely proud because he knew how nervous you were before the performance

but oh dude when you drop a diss at mama

the kids look at him in shock but he didn’t know either

the mischievous look in your eye makes him even more mesmerized

after the performance chan mentions it, not to make people suspect anything

"the performances were really, really good. personally, i enjoyed the dark ones"

mhm we all know which specific one !!

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

minho is as anxious as you — it’s first time performing such a dark concept and you’re going to have a solo in it

he knew it since he helped you practice

hence why he’s nervous. not to get him wrong, he knows you’ll slay but it’s a hard dance break

he gets chills the second you enter the stage, a powerful walk along your members

the performance is smooth-sailing and then there’s time for your solo

and keeping it short: you destroyed the stage

minho couldn’t be more proud, especially that you were on everyone’s lips in the industry even weeks after mama

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

mf can’t sit still in one place when he knows it’s your turn perform

his members have to calm him down 😭

you wouldn’t tell him what’s the concept – only that it’s dark and cool concept

he mouths the lyrics of the song, amazed by the stage and outfits

he’s kind of disappointed when it’s over and light go out

but then boom, suddenly there’s a light shining on you and your leader

changbin frowns, not sure what’s happening – and suddenly you have a solo stage, performing a quite sexy dance to tease your next album 🫣

(the members have to tug his clothes to remind him to close his mouth)

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

he’s more excited than you 😭

asks you to send pics of your outfit and makes up and everything !!

absolutely stunned once you enter the stage w your members, dark and elegant suits on

he was sure that you told him everything mhmm

but when suddenly your members run up to you and seem to rip your clothes, he lets out a loud gasp (drawing attention from the idols nearby)

and suddenly there’s a reveal of gold shimmering dress underneath, your maknae putting a crown on your head

he’s so so confused but loves it, his inner artist is buzzing with excitement how to capture that on canvas once he’s home

and he grabs onto chan with tight grip when you hint the next album name, pointing at the crown

be ready to have a lecture ehh didn’t you spoil anything!! why he didn’t know!! and how proud he is<3

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

flustered babyyyyy >.<

he thought it’s a cute concept because your latest album was lovey-dovey

but his mouth falls agape as soon as a mysterious melody reaches his ears and two of your members come in, dressed head to toe in black elegant outfits

he noticed there’s a ?? small podium ?? but didn’t pay any attention to it once you joined your members on stage, also dressed in a mind-blowing dark dress with silver jewelry

you performed one of your popular songs and then three of your members had a cute solo stage, a dance break with a song from your newest album

but the music got cut and the light focused on you, smokey makeup and… fake blood on your face?

you jumped from the podium (like that one wony stage hehe) and your members formed a regular ending position with screens hinting that’s a beginning of new era

dude was speechless and for a moment forgot he’s an idol,, fanboying over his cool n badass gf ^^

(all the fansites thought its adorable meanwhile his member were giggling at him hehe)

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

woah there do you want him (and your fans) dead??

you haven’t spoiled anything to him and now he’s shocked, flustered, amused, amazed and all the other things at once ;; his brain is going 28202729 km per hour like!!

because goddamn you look so hot in such concept…!

and when you start rapping at your solo stage, throwing a snarky comment at mama there and here

felix is just blushing and giggling like a teenage girl,, but also he’s kind of feeling intimidated by your sudden powerful aura

not that he minds tho~

will fight the haters of ur performance if he sees any, literally defending you like a lioness defends her cubs (on anon accs tho lol)

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

to be honest your performance is the only reason why he’s at mama …

he knew how excited you were abt it, saying it’s gonna tease your next comeback

so naturally, he was intrigued

but he wasn’t expecting that

you literally owned the stage,, all of your members too ofc

but there was just something so fresh seeing you in a dark concept with smokey makeup,, kicking a prop chair and loosening your tie…

he was stunned!!!

and seungmin couldn’t help but feel the overflowing sense of pride that it’s his girl right here, catching everyone’s attention

( especially after you cursed in a part of a song that was supposed to be censored )

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

this man almost made you spoil the whole performance for him 😭😭

he’s just as excited as you are, buzzing with excitement

he was even squeezing chan’s hand once you entered the stage

everything was so enchanting – the rock version of your newest song, the mysterious background, dark and elegant outfits

when suddenly a backup dancer handed you a guitar

and you had an electric guitar solo, the accessories you had shimmering in the light

literally everyone was focused at you and your skills, jeongin staring in awe and mouth hanging open

( he just wanted to scream at the top of his lungs that “that’s my gf y’all!!” but sadly he couldn’t !!!? <\\3 )

after the solo you joined your members in finishing the choreography,,, he even missed the big spoiler for the next album that your main rapper did in the choreo

bc he was so so focused at you,, he could see how proud you were

and so was he!! expect a lot of kisses n praises after the performance!!

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08

#skz #skz fluff #stray kids #stray kids fluff #skz stay #skz imagines #skz changbin #skz fanfic #skz felix #skz hyunjin #skz scenarios #skz bang chan #skz jeongin #jisung skz #skz minho #seungmin skz #skz reactions #skz x stay #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #blue jisungs’s requests #skz drabbles #skz soft hours #skz x idol!reader

[somnambulic-thing]

Eddie Munson x gn!reader with vagina&boobs

Rating: E, nsfw, 18+ Words: 3.9k read on ao3

smoke and cherry pop rocks Summary: You’ve been silently in love with Eddie for years and he’s leaving Hawkins soon. You want one kiss before he does. He gives you more than that.

CW/tags: no upside-down, angst, fluff, first times, grief, open end, reader has regrets, coming of age (everybody is over 18 though), smut, piv penetration, oral for everybody, lovemarks/bruises, rough sex, sex in public places, nicknames

A/N: In case: Pop Rocks are candy that pops and fizzes in your mouth. I hurt myself with this one, but growing pain is what it is.

If you like and enjoy this little story, let me know. I’d love to hear from you.

It had been dry the past few weeks. So dry that your feet are kicking up small clouds of dirt where the paved roads of Forest Hills trailer park turn into gravelled paths, making your throat itchy and the inside of your mouth feel just as dry.

You’ve been to the trailer park before but never figured out which trailer was home to Eddie Munson. Had, in fact, avoided finding out. You have a rule when it comes to Eddie and you are about to break it.

The rule was simple enough: Don’t.

Don’t get too close.

Don’t get lost in those eyes, that wit, that kaleidoscope mind.

Don’t let him get too close.

Don’t.

He had been a Senior and you a Sophomore when you created that rule, your crush at first nothing more than a light tickling on the back of your neck and some innocent thoughts about a kiss from those ever-smirking lips. He’d been prickly, snapped at you more than once when he caught you casting not-so-secret glances across hallways until one day, he didn’t. Until one day, he said hi.

And then he had been a Senior and you a Junior and he had given you a ride home, picking you off the street with sweet words and gentle hands after your bike betrayed you and the asphalt scraped the skin off your knees and palm. He walked you to your door to make sure you wouldn’t faint or something even though you clearly felt alright, insisting on taking care of your bike.

“I know what I’m doing. That way I’m sure it won’t give up on you again. Don’t want this to keep me up at night.”

His graduation had been only a few months away that day - or so you‘d thought - and as he stood there, so close, smiling at you, arms crossed over his chest and unable to stand still your whole body had screamed Don’t. He’ll be gone and it will rip you apart.

And then he had been a Senior and so had you and Eddie slipped you pieces of paper during class; little silly drawings to make you smile on days you didn’t feel like it. He held doors for you when you were still half a hallway away and remembered your birthday without you ever telling him the date, singing for you in the school parking lot.

Despite your best efforts to stay away, there had been many and many small moments that had felt like lurking avalanches - a few close calls - but one way or the other, you had walked away unscathed. Right?

You had both graduated three days ago.

Eddie had walked the stage, snatched his diploma and raised two of the happiest middle fingers you had ever seen into the air and bolted like the devil was behind him. You wanted to kiss him. Kiss him so badly. While you still could.

But you didn’t.

Eddie would leave Hawkins soon. He’d found a spot as a roadie, hoisting equipment for a thrash metal band. “Not even a bad one,” he had smirked, radiating excitement. You remember the afternoon he told you about it with painful clarity. He was going to make connections, be a good sport, flex his skills on the guitar whenever an opportunity revealed itself. He had a whole plan.

Eddie would leave soon and you would go to college and so you had said so long tohim with a straight face that felt like it was on fire and that finally was the end of your ordeal. Right?

You already miss him.

So now you’re at the trailer park and your mouth is dry and no matter how much you tell yourself it’s just the dust or the unusual heat or the fact that you had walked here for almost an hour without so much as a sip of water, you knew the real reason was Eddie.

You spot his van first.

And then you spot him. Stretching out on his back on the floor of the small deck in front of the trailer. One arm under his head, his feet bopping to a tune in his mind, tendrils of smoke rising up from his face like ephemeral poems. Golden hour was only minutes away and already the sun tinted everything in this light that had the color of bittersweet memories.

You place your feet carefully, eager to stay unnoticed as long as you can, not ready to leave this limbo yet. He was just beautiful like this; even in inertia, Eddie was a wild thing.

He turns his head at last; you don’t stop, don’t falter even though inside of you everything screams Don’t.

You see him squint, the low and glaring sun behind you shrouding you just a little longer giving you a few more precious seconds to clear your mind, to prepare your words.

Except it doesn’t. He recognizes you anyway.

Over the distance, you hear your name spoken in that voice that had made you jump on your first day in High School; he’d been running late and barged into the wrong classroom. His hair had been shorter, sticking out in every direction like he was electric, made of storm. The voice is deeper now, rougher, but you would recognize it underwater. You hear it in your dreams.

“Hi, Eddie,” says your mouth while your mind says Don’t.

“You, uh, got lost or something?

“No,” you say and come to a halt. With you, you bring your shadow and you cast it over his face. His features relax, the squint disappears and you look down into pitch-black eyes. “I was looking for you.”

“For me?”

“For you.”

“You, like, wanna… buy something green or…?”

“For you.”

Where once sleeves had been on his shirt were now big holes reaching down to his waist, the fabric rolling in slightly at the raw edges where he’d cut along. You can see the pale skin spanning over his ribcage, can see the rise and fall, can see the ink.

Eddie looks at you in silence. You even like the way he doesn’t talk.

Don’t.

He starts to move, eyes fixed on you as he sits up, places his palms on the floor, rings click-clacking softly, cigarette butt coughing bitter tufts of smoke from between his fingers. He pushes himself around in one swift motion, crossing his legs, bare feet covered in dust, and faces you.

Your mouth is dry, is arid, is a desert.

“What do you mean for me?”

DON’T, it screams.

Ah, shut the fuck up, you answer.

“Have you ever heard of anticipatory grief?”

He blinks, fast, tilts his head, tilts the corners of his mouth down.

“Hmm, nope,” he shakes his head, “but I think I… get the gist. Why? You came to ask me this?”

“I came to kiss you.”

“What?”

“That is, if you want me to... To kiss you.”

The cigarette has snuffed out between his fingers and he throws it away into an unseen distance, his eyes searching your face for clues. You give him a smile.

“Are you for— for real?”

You nod.

“You’re not messing with me? Because that would be a fucked up thing to do.”

Your heart rushes the blood through your veins like a torrent, you feel it pool on your cheeks.

“Eddie,” you say the way you always wanted to. Soft and longing. “I had a crush on you for so long…” You close your eyes. “Years... Still have.”

“Shit! I… uh, shit.” You hear only crickets and a lawn mower in the distance and you wonder if he has vanished into thin air. “Could you, like, look at me?”

 It takes effort, but you do.

“You… you never...”

“I know.”

“Why now? Why—“ You can see him think, putting crooked pieces together. “Anticipatory grief?”

“Fuck, you’re clever.”

His head draws back, his brows draw together; it looks like he’s drawing the wrong conclusion. “So you, what? Expected me to be an ass about it? To mess with you?”

“Not all that clever then,” you smirk and Eddie looks confused.

“Well, fuck you, milady,” he says with a tense smile and waves a hand through the air. You want to evaporate, flow through those fingers. “But you’re making no sense to me right now. Help me out?”

“You’re leaving soon.”

“Wait, wait, wait: you said years.”

A laugh is tickling you to let it out, you hold it back and sigh. “I thought for years you’d be leaving soon.”

“Shit,” he almost barks, fingers stilling an itch on his temple. Then he laughs and you do too.

You step closer, leaving only a few feet between you while the laughter is softly running out. And then he breathes in deep into his lungs; holds it holds it holds it. Oh to envy the air so much, it was embarrassing.

“Why now?”

“I don’t know—”

“Bullshit.”

“Eddie…”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

His chest expands again, you see him clenching his fists before he rests his hands on his thighs, ringed fingers splayed wide on black denim.

“Say my name like that—”

“I’m sorry—“

“Answer my question, sweetheart.”

“Don’t do that.”

It’s like a dance somehow, no, not quite, but you’re feeling out of breath and the rhythm is addictive.

“Answer my question…” and then he smiles, pulls his hands to his face, palms pressed together like in prayer, “…sweetheart.”

Asshole, you think losing the fight against a shiver.

“Because,” he says, propping his sharp yaw against his knuckles, “I would have been in on it in a heartbeat. On a date. Or something. Anything, really.”

You say his name like that again and hide your face inside your palms, seeking refuge from your past decisions. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Yeah, fuck that. You started this. I’m just, ahm, levelling the playing field,” he laughs a little bitterly. “T’s not like I won’t think about some if’s and could have been’s now, ya know?”

You can’t look up. You want to ask him if he heard of spontaneous self-combustion before but then he holds the match that sets you on fire.

“I always liked you.”

The groan escaping you is muffled by your palms. “So why did you never say something?”

There is a tap on your shoulder, the sudden touch startling you out of your stupor, and when you come up his warm palms almost feel cool on your heated face.

And Eddie kisses you.

A high-pitched noise escapes your throat, your hands fly to his wrists, holding on like vices because he tastes like smoke and cherry pop rocks and like endless summer skies and the world is spinning as much as his lips are soft and he sighs a little and—

Eddie is kissing you!

You take a step forward, your stomach hits the deck and you wind your fingers through his hair. The roots are damp with sweat and he sighs again when you pull. He opens his mouth to welcome you in, to lick at you with his cherry tongue and steal your breath right from your lungs and—

And then it ends. Time has never passed so fast.

The dissonance of your laboured breathing hangs between you like a chance, a peek, a warning; Eddie won’t let go of your face and you won’t let go of his.

And then he smiles. “Was good?”

You nod. “Too short.”

“Wanna come up here for more?”

Eddie’s laugh echoes through the trailer park as you scramble to climb up the deck. You knock him over, or maybe you don’t, because his hands are already on your arms and pull you with him to the floor. It doesn’t matter one way or the other. What matters is his tongue in your mouth, the hard edge of his teeth against yours and his skin under your wandering fingertips.

The sun is setting.

Eddie is still kissing you when it leaves this day for good.

Wedged between your thighs he now and then whispers little secrets to your skin.

        You are so pretty.

        You smell so good.

      You’re making me so hard.

Eddie’s throat tastes like salt and summer dust; he likes it when you bite him.

      I never said a thing because I thought you wouldn’t want me.

      Because wanting you scares me.

      Because you always were so distant—

      when I came close.

“I’m so stupid,” you confess.

“Not stupid, sweetheart.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know.” He speaks those words into your mouth as if to share the bitterness.

     I’m glad you came.

          I’m glad you’re here.

          I want you to stay.

         I want you to stay.

         I want you to stay. And if it’s only for one night…

Eddie’s room is a mess but his bed is soft. So is the light, illuminating chaos you had imagined countless times before but it’s no match for the chaos inside you. There’s so much you want to say, but so much skin to kiss. You fill the spaces in between.

“Sometimes,” you pant, his lips against your throat, “I sneak into your concerts.”

“I’ve never seen you there,” he says, almost ripping your shirt, sucking on your breasts.

“I love the sound of your voice.”

“You mean that?”

You nod, straddling his thighs, unbuttoning his pants. “I wanna hear you moan.”

Eddie moans for you when you sink down on his cock.

     You feel so good.

            I can’t believe it.

Neither can you. For the day began with a dragging sense of emptiness and now you are so full of him it’s driving you insane. He moans your name while you ride him, while you show him how you feel in a way words can’t.

            You’re so warm.

            So soft.

            I wanna taste your pussy.

The secrets stop as he licks at you with fervour; but not the moans. Eddie is spoiling you with those and you’re spoiling him with praises.

He’s careful with his fingers, almost like he’s scared. You tell him where to touch, how to move and he thanks you with his eyes; shining and wide and full of pride and wonder as you tense around his fingers, twitch under his tongue.

“Fuck me, Eddie, please…”

Eddie is rough. You want him to wreck you.

           I want you to remember this with your whole body.

           I wanna make you breakfast.

           I’m leaving in two weeks. Two weeks. Gimme those two weeks.

“Yeah,” you moan against his neck. “I’ll give you anything.”

“Don’t— don’t do that.”

 “For two weeks,” you shove your hand under his chin, you make him look at you. He’s so deep inside of you it’s hard to think but this is easy: “For two weeks, I’ll give you anything.”

Eddie kisses you; he tastes like you, like you, like you and nothing else. With one hand he pins your wrists above your head and fucks you like there’s no tomorrow.

When he falls asleep on your chest, you whisper little secrets of your own.

                 I’m sorry.

                 I’m so sorry.

                 I’m so in love with you.

Eddie makes you breakfast. His uncle looks happy and confused; he wants you to call him Wayne. Dramatic eyes seem to be a Munson thing. Wayne makes you laugh with stories about Eddie, Eddie makes you laugh with being flustered and shy. When it’s just you and Wayne for a moment, he slips you a picture of a younger Eddie. Hair short, guitar too big for him. You hide it away like a treasure.

You promised each other two weeks so he gives the car shop an early notice to make time.

“But you need the money, Eddie.”

“I can’t buy this with money, sweetheart.”

“But—“

Eddie likes to shut you up with kisses. It’s not fair, you tell him. He doesn’t give a fuck, he tells you.

You have fourteen days and Eddie’s head is in your lap, a guitar on his chest and he plays for you; melody soft and sad, smile sharp and wide under your adoration. Even little quarrels feel like blessings because the make up is so sweet. Later, he takes you downtown where he never lets go of your hand and licks ice cream off your face.

            I wrote this the day you scraped your knees.

            I don’t mind you being stubborn when you kiss me like that.

            You taste better without it.

Twelve days and you wake up in his arms; he keeps you in bed for hours. Soft kisses, roaming hands and never a moment of silence, you and Eddie sharing everything your minds provide, making every second count. In the evening, Eddie takes you to see a movie. He makes you come twice. You walk back to the trailer park, barefooted.

            I still can’t believe you’re here.

            I could listen to your thoughts for hours.

            I want to fuck you in weird places.

Ten days and Eddie rolls a joint for you to share. You smoke on the roof of the trailer, making up silly names for constellations, laughing till your stomachs hurt. Then you fuck him, palms pressed to his chest, keeping him down. You draw it out till the sun comes up behind you, leaving him a mumbling mess, the corrugated metal of the roof leaving bruises on his back. You kiss them all; they are your favorite color.

            I don’t want to leave anymore.

“But I’m leaving too.”

“I know.”

Seven days and Eddie packs you a picnic. It’s mostly junk food and you both feel full and lazy, like turned-over beetles, giggling like children in the high grass at the shore of Lovers Lake. You find clouds that look like dicks and whales and guitars and it’s all a bit of the same, really, and you bully Eddie out of his clothes because the water looks so nice and cool.

            I used to come here with my mother.

            It’s good to leave here laughing.

            I’ll miss your laugh. So much.

Four days and Corroded Coffin play their last show. You are the first row in a crowd of twenty people; you cheer for twenty more. After, you give the band space, watching the end from the sidelines. There are tears, there are hugs, there are stories of days past and promises for those to come. In his van, Eddie falls into your arms and clings to you for twenty minutes. Then he kisses you, pulls you greedily into his lap and almost breaks his window when there’s no condom to be found.

            I didn’t think all of this would be so hard.

            I’m crazy about you.

            It’s not fair.

            I want to make you come with my fingers, please.

Three days and you take Eddie to your house. He needs to see where you live from the inside. Your mother loves him, like you knew she would. He pokes around your room, inspecting everything he can. Sadly, it’s not much; you already started packing. He gets quiet.

“What’s wrong?”

“I hate to see those boxes with your stuff.”

“You wanna sleep at your place?” you caress his cheekbones with your thumbs.

“No.”

Eddie can’t fall asleep. You find him wide awake at three in the morning, staring at boxes and crying silent tears. He hates it that you see them.

“Come on, get dressed. We’re leaving.”

“No.”

“I don’t want you to be upset.”

“Tough shit,” he huffs. “You said you’ll give me anything. Give me this. I wanna feel this.”

So neither of you sleep. The sun comes up when Eddie pushes your face into the mattress, your wrists in his hand on your back. He’s not gentle. You don’t want him to be. He’s everywhere. By noon he kisses the bruises on the back of your thighs. They are his favorite color, he says. He wants to leave the boxes now. So you leave.

      Maybe you were right. Maybe you are stupid.

            I don’t mean it!

            I’m sorry.

            I just want years of this.

Two days and you just stay in bed. Eddie reads to you. Lord of The Rings and he’s doing different voices, and sound effects; narrates the rain, the hooves of pony’s and everything in between with gentle fingertips on the back of your hand. And it makes you cry. Makes you cry so hard that Eddie’s shirt is soaked where he holds you to his shoulder.

“Anticipatory grief. I get it now,” he says into your hair. There is something he doesn’t say. You can feel it, but you don’t ask.

This time when he fucks you, Eddie is nothing but gentle. You almost can’t stand it. You never want him to stop. Keep him inside of you forever.

            I’m in love with you.

            No, I mean it.

            I always liked you, remember?

“I’m in love with you too, Eddie.”

“Say that again.”

Eddie’s van is packed. He’s leaving in two hours.

Your lips are swollen from kissing, biting, sucking his cock and bruises into his skin.

“How can you be so perfect?” you ask him.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t let me leave.”

“Eddie…”

Eddie slides from your arms, slides from his room, out the porch door and flees into the forest behind the trailer.

You look after him, stunned.

Wayne sits on the deck, smoking.

“M’ sorry, kid. Really sorry.”

You know what he means. You’re sorry too.

“If he’s not back in twenty, you go after him.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. He’s my boy,” Wayne chuckles. There are tears in his voice.

You find Eddie sitting on a low branch, staring into the distance.

“You found me.”

“You’re leaving.”

“So are you.”

There are some nettles stinging your calves as you walk over, but the look on his face stings more.

It’s like the day you found him two weeks ago: you looking up at him, his eyes brimming with confusion. Except it’s nothing like two weeks ago.

“If this isn’t a pretty fucking case of self-fulfilling prophecy then I don’t know what is.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, brushing hair out of his face.

“You know what I mean.”

Of course, you do. It was you who made that prophecy.

“Do you regret it? That you gave me that kiss?” you ask in fear, a tear fleeing down your cheek.

Eddie kisses it away. “Don’t be stupid.”

Ten minutes and you lean against his van. His arms are crushing you, your nails leave red trails on his back and shoulders. You want him to remember.

“M’ going to miss you,” you sob.

“Gonna miss you too, sweetheart.”

            I’ll call you every day I can.

            I’ll let you know when I’m in the area.

            M’ gonna visit you. I promise.

Eddie kisses you. He tastes like smoke and cherry pop rocks and plain old sadness.

            You made me so happy.

            It’s almost cruel.

            I’d do it again. In a heartbeat.

Your mouth is dry as you watch him drive away, clouds of dirt rising from the dusty tires. Wayne holds you while you sob; he’s crying too. “Stop by for coffee b’fore you leave,” he says and you promise you will as you wave him goodbye.

The sun is low and golden as you start your way home. No. To the place where your boxes are waiting. You feel uprooted.

Two days later and the phone is ringing. You trip over a bag of clothes and bump your knee on the coffee table. You don’t feel the pain.

“Eddie?”

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x afab!reader #Eddie Munson #eddie munson smut #somnambulic-thing #my fic

[bunnylovesani]

Miss Congeniality

Chapter 5

Content warnings: p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), toxic ani, dom ani!sub reader, creampie, daddy kink, dirty talk, general smut

WC: 3.7k

The air is thick with smoke in the visibly unpoliced venue, filled with weed-smoking teenagers and middle-aged alcoholics. “What a charming audience.” You thought to yourself as you weaved through the sticky crowd to get a spot near the front.

You’d rummaged through your wardrobe to find something suitable for the boys’ rock concert but couldn’t find an article of clothing that wasn’t pink or frilly. Setting your sights on the metal band tee Ani gave you after hours of futile browsing, you settled on that along with some baggy black jeans you stole off Jaden. As you secured your spot in the front row, you lifted your jeans and checked on the pink Mary Jane heels you had on- you couldn’t find anyone to steal black shoes from but luckily the jeans swallowed them into obscurity.

All eyes turn to the front and conversations cease as the venue manager climbs up to the platform with a mic and announces tonight’s main act.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage- Dead Rebels!” Applause erupts as the lights dim and a group of 4 men approach the stage. Your eyes are instantly set on Anakin- who’s sporting a long-sleeved top, black and slightly see-through so that his nipple piercing glints in the low lights. He takes a seat behind the drums and scans the crowd, grinning mischievously when he locks eyes with you.

“Good luck.” You mouth to him and he winks back, before counting the band in and commencing the evening with their first song. You try to focus on the music, try to keep your eyes on your brother- who’s singing his heart out- but your eyes keep wandering over to Anakin; glowing with a thin sheen of sweat from the exertion of smashing the cymbals over and over again. Dirty thoughts creep into your mind as you shamelessly ogle his defined but lean arm muscles, gaze shifting from there to his beautifully concentrated face.

The only thing that draws your attention away from him is the persistent glare of the bassist, Max. The first time you met his gaze and you thought you saw a smile creep up on his face, you thought it might’ve been a coincidence- but after the second, third and fourth, you knew for sure: Max was into you.

With the last chord struck, the show was over and the audience began clearing the venue while you made your way backstage with the aid of a security guard. Rushing into their dressing room, you barged in to give Jaden and Anakin a hug.

“Oh my God guys, you were amazing! I never knew you had that kind of talent, I just always assumed band practice was code for getting high.” You joked, gushing about their performance.

“Thanks sis.” Jaden chuckled, hugging you back while Anakin awkwardly patted your back and withdrew. “And it was, but only half the time.”

“And the rest of you guys were fantastic too!” You pointed at the guitarist and bassist and they smiled humbly.

“Are you wearing my jeans?” Jaden remarked agitatedly.

“Maybe…come on Jay, I didn’t have anything to wear, I was only borrowing them!” You squeaked defensively.

“Ah whatever - wait a sec, is that Anakin’s tee?” He pointed at your skull-imprinted shirt and you looked to Ani before answering. “You need to give that back, it’s one thing to take my stuff but you can’t go around taking my friend’s clothes too!”

“Oh no, it’s okay, Ani g-“

“Yeah can I have that back please?” Anakin interrupted you.

Your heart dropped as you stared at him in dejected confusion, waiting to see if he was joking; when you saw that he wasn’t, a wave of rage overcame you and you started to pull the shirt over your head.

“I didn’t mean right here in front of everyone!” Jaden protested, jumping to cover you up.

“No no, I insist, don’t let me wear it for a second longer!” You ripped it off and threw it harshly at Anakin, leaving yourself exposed in a lace pink bra in front of the room, much to the chagrin of your brother and the shock of the bassist.

“Here, put this on.” Max scrambles over to hand you the hoodie he’s just taken off himself, putting it over your head and dressing you gently.

“Thank you Max, it’s nice to be around a gentleman for once.” You flash an exaggerated smile at him and shoot daggers at Anakin. “You have to come by at some point so you can pick it up.”

“Oh, yeah- give me your number and we can arrange something.” Max sees a window of opportunity open up and he takes it. “Maybe you can give it back to me after I’ve taken you out one time?”

“Sure. Give me your phone.” You flatly reply, punching your digits in while glaring at Anakin, who’s visibly seething but remains silent.

“Great, I’ll give you a call soon. Bye sweetheart.” Max chirps, kissing you on the cheek before heading out the door.

“I’m going home now.” You announce monotonously, now feeling the rage subdue and the misery kick in. Was he embarrassed to be associated with you? Or does he think what you two shared is so insignificant it’s not even worth mentioning?

“Wait, I’ll drive you.” Anakin reaches out to place his hand on your shoulder but you shake him off. “I’ll get a cab.”

2 days later, you received a call from an overly eager Max asking you on a date; you feigned enthusiasm convincingly when he revealed his plans to take you to dinner and ice skating. You knew this was the kind of guy you should be entertaining - someone who wasn’t ashamed to make his affection for you public knowledge- but great as he may be, he just wasn’t Anakin.

Nonetheless, you used this sham of a date as an excuse to go shopping and get your hair and nails done. Once you’d returned home, you tried on your prettiest dresses, settling on one that perfectly matched the shade of your glittering pink nails. Staring out the window, you applied another layer of lip gloss and anticipated Max’s imminent arrival.

Checking your phone, you knitted your brows together: he was meant to pick you up 20 minutes ago- and now he’s left you waiting without so much as a text. Guess he wasn’t much of a gentleman after all.

Just as you were about to give up and change into your pyjamas, you heard the crunching of gravel in the driveway. “It’s about damn time.” You thought as you packed your lip gloss into your bag, listening to the sound of footsteps thudding up the stairs.

“Rather presumptuous of you to come straight up to my room, don’t you think?” You reprimand him playfully when you hear the bedroom door swing open.

“Sorry, guess I’ve gotten too comfortable around here.” A familiar voice answers and you turn around so fast you get whiplash.

“Ani!” You’re filled with the urge to jump up and hug him, but the memory of his cowardice prevents you. “What are you doing here?” You fold your arms and turn your back to him. “I’m expecting someone.”

“No you’re not.” He states simply.

“What are you talking about? You need to leave, Max is going to be here any minute.”

“You’re not listening to me darling, no he’s not.”

“What did you do?” You roll your eyes at him, knowing he meddled in some way.

“Let’s just say you won’t be leaving the house anytime soon.” He approaches you and you’re powerless to move. “On account of that nasty accident you had.”

“B- but I wasn’t in an accident.” You stutter, body racked with intimidation.

“You would’ve been if you’d have gotten into that car with him.” He snarls into your ear and snakes his hand around your waist. “You really thought I was going to let you go out with that idiot? Have him try to make a move on you- when I know you were only doing it to make me jealous? You’re dumber than I thought, princess.”

“Did it work then?” You bat your eyelashes innocently but can’t stop the wild grin that overtakes your face.

“Oh, you are so bad.” He grabs you by the jaw and meets your lips, fueled with a fire unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

“No, stop.” You put your hand against his firm chest and push him away. “You really hurt me, you know. Why would you let Jaden think I stole your shirt?”

“Are you serious? Use your brain, sweetheart.” He scoffs and you scrunch your face up in disbelief.

“Stop being mean! I’m not dumb and I deserve better than this.” You back away and climb onto your bed, grabbing a nearby teddy bear plushie and embracing it tightly.

“Okay, okay- I’m sorry, princess.” He sighs and takes a seat at the end of your bed. “I do care about you, you know that-“

“No! I don’t. And I’m starting to think you’re just a big fat liar who’s selling me dreams to try to get in my panties.” You huff, hiding behind your teddy.

“They are very nice panties, admittedly, and what’s underneath them is even nicer-“

“Ani!” You throw the teddy and it goes flying in his direction.

“Let me finish!” He sniggers, climbing up closer to you and handing you your teddy back.

“As much as I am a fan of your panties, I’m an even bigger fan of you. Your beautiful face, your mind, the way you wear your heart on your sleeve. I’m sorry I hurt you darling, it just wasn’t the right time to reveal a thing like that. Y’know your brother would kill me if he found out. All ramped up on post-show adrenaline. And he’s my best friend, ya know? He means a lot to me- you both do, so I just need some time to figure out how this is gonna work.” He speaks softly, brushing his knuckles against your cheeks.

“O-okay, Ani. I guess I understand.” You mutter, entranced by his close proximity and the way he’s touching you.

“Good girl. Now take that dress off.” He commands and you’re rendered speechless. “I know you bought it for him and that sickens me.”

For reasons you can’t explain, you stand up and begin slowly peeling off the dress, pushing the fabric off your shoulders and allowing it to drop to the floor, pooling around your feet.

“Now throw it away. I’ll buy you a new one.” His slippery voice seeps into your mind and you crumble the dress up, throwing it into the bin by the door.

“Good. Now come here.” He gestures you towards his lap and you slowly climb him, wrapping your legs around his smooth torso.

“You know you’re mine, right?” He slides his broad calloused palms over your ass cheeks, eliciting a squeak from you when he squeezes them roughly.

“M, m’ all yours Ani.” You kick yourself for how easily you gave in -but those eyes, and that body- oh that body. How could you be expected to stay strong when you were pressed this tightly against him?

“That’s right, babydoll. You’re all mine, and I’m all yours.” He purrs and you feel a damp spot forming in your panties at the sound of his velvety hushed voice. “And that’s the way it’s gonna be from now on. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Ani, crystal.” You whine, pawing at his chest and planting kisses around his neck.

“Needy little thing. Do you need daddy’s help to make you feel better?”

“Yes please, daddy. Make me feel good like you did last time.” You moan at the memory and goosebumps form all over your skin.

“Oh, I’ll make you feel even better. Lie back down, sweetheart.” He helps you off him and you sprawl out onto your mound of fluffy pillows.

“W-what are you gonna do t’me?” You question, a tingle of apprehension piercing your excitement.

“I’m gonna mark you as mine. I’m gonna fill you up full of me.” He begins to plant kisses all up and down your thighs, making you whimper with anticipation.

“Remember how good you did for me last time? I’m gonna need you to do that again- spread your legs, sweetheart.” You obey him and spread yourself open, revealing the wet spot permeating your lace panties.

“Nice ’n ready f’me.” He grumbles with a quietly content sigh. “Lift your hips.”

Doing as he wishes, you let him slip your underwear off and settle himself between your heat- his warm breath causing tingling sensations to bloom all over your skin. A hunger overtakes him and he dives in abruptly, tongue flicking up and down your sensitive clit. You pant and moan, feeling a full-body blush warm you up, all your nerve endings on fire at the feeling of his flat tongue against your cunt.

“Fuck Ani, you’re so good at that.” You moan breathlessly and feel him chuckle, the vibrations buzzing through you. He lifts his head and allows a glistening trail of spit to drip down from his lips to your core, soaking you entirely.

“Not that you need any help getting wet, but I want it to feel as good as possible.” He wipes the drool from his mouth and rises until he’s hovering above you. “Do you want to touch it first?” He asks and you nod slowly.

Unzipping his jeans, he grabs your hand and guides it to feel what’s underneath his boxers. A small gasp escapes your lips once you touch the ridged edges of his tip, before trailing your fingers down to his veiny, thick base.

“Oh my God, Ani…” You utter, barely above a whisper. “How…how will it fit?”

“We’ll make it fit.” He smirks, before putting your hand back and removing his jeans. “Are you ready, sweetheart? Remember if it hurts too much just tap me and I’ll stop, okay?”

“Okay Ani, I trust you.” You couldn’t believe you were finally doing this- years of saving yourself, only to give your virginity to a guy who you weren’t even in a real relationship with. It was so unlike you, so contrary to the way you’d been raised, so bad- and you loved it.

“Spit.” He orders, holding his hand under your mouth. As with all his commands, you obey without question and observe as he takes that same hand and strokes his cock with it, your spit wettening his entire base.

Lining himself up with your entrance, he takes a deep breath- as if he’s the one who’ll be in pain- and pushes in just the tip. You wince a little and grab the bedsheets- seeing this, Ani offers you his hand to hold. “It’s just the tip baby, relax. I’m not moving.” You nod furiously, blinking away tears that are forming; you’re not sure if they’re from the pain, the shock or the emotional effect this is having on you.

After taking a minute to adjust, you find yourself moving your hips just a little, impaling yourself on his cock by just a centimetre at a time.

“I thought it hurt, princess- do you want more already?” Anakin teases but remains completely still.

“Mhm, I’m ready for more, daddy.” You mumble, rotating your hips impatiently.

“Alright, if you’re sure.” He smirks, pushing the rest of his length into you in one swift motion- causing you to throw your head back at the overwhelming sensation of being filled. “What’s the matter, bunny? Too much?” Your eyes are screwed shut but you can feel his cocky smile radiating at you as he thrusts in and out.

“Fu- ugh, ani, mmph!” Little squeaks are pounded out of you a syllable at a time as your poor pussy is bullied by Anakin’s cock.

“That was quick, thought I was gonna have to ease my way in an inch at a time- but you just swallowed me right up, greedy pussy.” His vulgar words prompt whimpers to leave your wet lips and cause your legs to tremble.

“Goddamn baby, you are just so wet.” You don’t even have to look down to know he’s right- you can hear the lewd squelching that accompanies every smack of flesh.

“Please, I wanna, mmph.” You can’t get the words out as you claw at Ani’s shirt, hoping he gets the hint to take it off.

“Alright baby, alright.” He rips his shirt off, leaving his tanned chest exposed. Wanting to follow suit, you try to reach around and take your bra off- but the cock deep inside you is blighting your cognitive ability too much for you to succeed.

“I got you, baby, c’mere.” He coos, unhooking your bra with one hand- an act you raise a disapproving eyebrow to. “What? We can’t all be virgins.” The rational part of your brain wants to get mad but your body can’t seem to focus on anything other than the deliriously good way in which you’re getting pounded right now.

No doubt trying to get your mind off his sexual history before you started ruminating on it, he massages your breast, reaching down to suck on one while his relentless thrusts continued.

“If I could stay in here for the rest of my life, I’d be a very happy man.” He mumbled in between sucks, the cold air making your wet nipples hard. “Can I, princess? Can I stay inside you forever?”

You look down at the sight of your bodies meeting- his cock barging into your core, coated in creamy arousal- and you almost turn hysterical.

“Yes, yes, yes! Please Ani- mmph- please never, ever leave.” You beg, head spinning with pleasure as you feel your climax approaching.

“Shh, you have to be quiet, we’re not home alone.” He places his hand over your mouth and pounds into your little guts, muffled squeaks sufficiently silenced.

“Do you want me to fill you up?” He says breathily, trying to hold back moans. “Would you like that sweetheart? Want me to fill you up while your brother’s next door? Want to walk around the house with my cum dripping down your thighs?”

He knows you can’t say anything with his hand clutched over your mouth so tightly but he wants to give you the illusion that you have an option.

“Are you gonna be daddy’s good girl and let him spill his cum deep inside you? Yeah?” You nod frantically to everything he says, too cock drunk to think logically. He puts one of your legs over his shoulders as he drills into you with an increased intensity and you notice a warm, tingly feeling rise within you.

“Ahh fu- mm Ani, Ani, ‘m gonna cum.” You yelp out wildly, biting through his hand.

“Daddy’s gonna cum too, baby.” He groans in response, grip on your thigh hardening as his thrusts become more sloppy. “Oh, baby! Fuck, princess.” He whines as you feel hot ropes of cum shoot into you, pushing you over the edge into your own white hot orgasm. Your legs shake at the aftershock of such an intense feeling and Anakin remains on top of you, catching his breath.

“Who moans who’s name when they cum now?” You tease and he slaps the side of your thigh in response, chuckling as he slowly pulls out to reveal a flood of cum dribbling from your core.

“Yep, definitely mine.” He admires the sight. “Fuck, I hope Jaden didn’t hear any of that.”

“He’s always got his headphones on- if he suspected anything, he would’ve come in and beat you up by now.” You giggle mischievously- you loved how protective your brother was over you.

You showered together in your ensuite and Anakin gently cleaned every inch of your body, kissing every part he touched so softly that you would’ve thought you were made of glass. Once you got out, you headed to your wardrobe to find pyjamas.

“I believe this belongs to you.” He reaches into his backpack and hands you his band tee.

“You sure I can actually keep it this time?” You accept it hesitantly.

“Yes. And if anyone asks, say your boyfriend gave it to you.”

You smile sheepishly and put the oversized tee on before enveloping Ani in the tightest hug you’d ever given.

“Let’s go downstairs, I’ll make us some hot chocolate!”

“Oh dear God no, please let me make it.” Ani laughs and throws you over his shoulder, trudging downstairs to the kitchen.

“There you are. Thought you said you’d be here an hour ago.” Jaden grumbles at the bottom of the stairs, staring blankly at Anakin.

“Oh! Yeah, I, uh made a detour.” He gulps and Jaden raises an eyebrow when he sees you.

“Was that detour giving it to my sister?”

“What?!”

“The shirt. Did you go to give it to her?”

“Oh! Yes, I uh think it suits her more than me.” His gaze trails off, admiring you.

“Are you two finally a thing now then or?” Jaden asks, unamused.

“Huh? I, well we, uh-“

“Relax, I know you’ve liked her for years. I guess if she has to be with someone, I’m glad it’s my best buddy. That way I can keep an eye on you both.” He points in your direction, chuckling. “Oh and by the way- our walls? They’re real thin. Just sayin’.” Jaden walks off, rolling his eyes as you and Anakin stare at each other in shock.

“Wow, that was not the reaction I was expecting. Thought I was gonna get my ass beat.” Anakin sighs in relief.

“Liked me for years, huh?” You grin, ego boosted by Jaden’s revelation.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s see how cocky you are when I’m in your guts again.” Anakin stares down at you and you’re suddenly aware of how small you are compared to him.

“I can take it.” You huff defiantly.

“One round and you think you’re a big girl? Very well, I’ll clear my schedule- looks like I’ve got a long night of brat training.”

@erinkeifer @mortalheartache @crazy4hotmen

#hayden christensen #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin fanfiction #anakin x you #anakin x reader #star wars smut #sam monroe #life as a house #anakin x reader smut #anakin fluff #anakin smut #star wars anakin

[biteofcherry]

To find the light, we must first touch the darkness

Please also check out @bluepinkangel​’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤

dark!mafia Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; power imbalance; forced relationship; violence; death (minor character); D/s undertones; gun play; gun play kink; explicit sexual situation; faint choking kink; mention of breeding kink;

I did warn you this Steve is dark 😜

word count: 8k

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 4. Heated hail

~ * ~ 

Hues of orange and purple brushed over the horizon in softest strokes as the sun settled down, but your heart couldn’t settle in your chest, every few hours jumping into a rapid patter to the tune of anxiety. 

Staying in the safety of your apartment for two days after the horrid events didn’t help much, it still felt impossible to ease into your new life with its stains of alluring darkness. 

You called in sick the morning after your engagement. Then stayed home for another day, as well. Hiding worked no miracles, your brain was very much conscious of the events that happened and of the things awaiting you, but at least you didn’t have to face it all for those few more hours of denial.

Though no one appeared on your doorstep and you didn’t sense any eyes on you as you occasionally walked out onto your tiny balcony, you were convinced that Steve knew very well where you were. 

At all times.

It was a blessing he didn’t march into your home with a wedding gown, forcing you to say the vows immediately. You half expected it, since your continued talk after the kiss included Steve’s announcement that you’re to be married in a month. 

He wasn’t interested in waiting.

It seemed that even when Steve Rogers appeared patient, it was only when he knew the results he demanded would come precisely in the time window he approved of. 

Giving you a month was undoubtedly an act of grace in his eyes, since he could’ve as well dragged you in front of some registrar the very next day. 

Or maybe it was a wicked torment on his part, making you organize a wedding you didn’t really want. Not ripping off the band aid quickly, but making conscious decisions (as indifferent as they may be) about details regarding the ceremony of binding yourself to Steve for life.

True torture was playing the part of shocked and grief-stricken when Natalie called you a few hours earlier to inform you of Felix’s tragic car accident.

You nearly laughed hysterically at that.

Car accident. Sure.

Against a truck branded Rogers. 

You had no idea if they staged it so that it looked like an accident after they'd beaten him to death (or done worse things to him), or if Rogers had enough officers under his thumb that they classified it as such, without letting anyone know the truth. 

But you knew the truth. Most of it, anyway, without gory details.   

Maybe you shouldn’t feel sad, considering Felix gave you to another mobster on a silver platter. Who knows how that meeting would go, if Steve hadn’t intervened. However, you were still human and, even if occasionally you felt a taste for drawing blood when someone pissed you off, you didn’t wish anyone death. 

You would have to play the shocked and sorrowful employer in front of the health center employees, which was also why you dreaded going back to work. 

It would be easier, perhaps, if your mind reacted in the way it was supposed to. 

Though you knew people reacted to trauma in various ways, there were certain symptoms you expected from yourself. They never came.

When you dragged yourself to bed, you fell asleep easily. Steve Rogers haunted your dreams, but they weren’t exactly nightmares you’d expect. 

Those dreams were ridiculous, really. Dark, yes. In a gothic horror setting almost. No terror wrecked your body, however. You didn’t scream in fear, nor wake up drenched in sweat as you dreamt of running away from the altar only to fall straight into Rogers’ arms. 

You were processing it all too logically, as if you were only wedding stressed and annoyed with Rogers, not in fear for your life and that of your loved ones. 

If you were your own patient, you’d ask yourself if there were aspects of the arrangement with Steve that you found benefiting? Something that perhaps drew you to him?

You still had no answer to that question as you finally walked into the health center on the next day. 

Steady, slow steps; a pace perhaps a heartbeat slower than your usual. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor echoing through the quiet halls. 

Natalie waited for you in your office, as she always did without fail. In a way, she was playing a role just like you; wearing a mask to function without a hitch. Organizer in hand, she recited to you the changes she made due to your short sick leave and those that needed to be made for the day of Felix’s funeral. 

A thought crossed your mind briefly, of what Steve would say about you going to Felix’s funeral. Since he apparently belonged to a branch of the mafia, attendance of Hydra mobsters and other of their operatives was highly possible, and you didn’t think Rogers would want you anywhere near them. 

You viewed yourself as merely a civilian boss of the man that passed, but you possessed enough intelligence to recognize you were now also a part of a rivaling mob - no matter how reluctant your participation was. 

Not only by shared business, but ranking now much higher in your status as the fiancée to the ruthless mob boss. 

You didn’t mention to Natalie that you weren’t sure if you’d be going to the funeral at all, only nodding at her skilfully reorganized schedule. 

“There’s one more thing,” she said, closing her calendar.

She walked to the door, opened them and beckoned someone over. A young man, a boy really, entered your office with a shy smile on his face. 

Unruly hair, which he combed neatly, but they still betrayed harmlessly chaotic functioning of youth. A pressed collar of a button down shirt peeked above his blue cardigan. He reminded you of first year students, or apprentices at their first posting. 

The first person in the past few days who seemed innocent and you welcomed that change with a softened heart. 

“This is Peter Parker.” Natalie announced.

“Hi! Nice to meet you,” the boy cut the space between the two of you and extended his hand for you to shake. 

“Peter has just applied for our vacant position.” Natalie’s voice remained neutral and professional, but the way she accented vacant position left no doubt that it meant Felix’s job. 

Which shouldn’t be announced this soon. No one would post an ad without your authorization. So unless one of the center’s workers tried to push his own son or nephew into free position, that Parker kid was sent in by someone who knew of the brutally gained opening. 

“Son of a bitch.” You cursed under your breath. 

Natalie arched a single brow, but said nothing as you picked up your phone and unlocked it with a murderous glare. Parker said nothing either, only looked your way slightly bewildered. 

Shame that Rogers didn’t warn him about your newly discovered tendencies to outbursts. 

That it was Steve Rogers’ move, you had no doubt. 

You found his name in your contacts - Steve typed it in himself, teasing you that a fiancée should have her future husband’s number in her phone.

He picked up quickly, actually surprising you that he answered at all. You thought his phone number to be more of a reminder for you that you gave yourself away to him, rather than being able to actually call him. So when you heard his voice on the other end of the line, you choked on your words for a second. 

“Princess?”

You wondered if he saved your number under that pet name.

“The center was supposed to remain under my control,” you hissed into the phone when you regained your voice. “Hiring people should be my decision.”

“Peter’s very approachable and he learns fast,” came Steve’s reply; his voice soft, but there was that lining of finality to his decision.

You paused, once again surprised. This time by the fact Steve wasn’t playing lying games, just cutting straight to the core of the problem. Which also meant he anticipated your reaction, but did it anyway, disregarding your opinion on the matter. 

You’d laugh at the irony of it - that a man being truthful and direct in an important conversation (traits you valued), at the same time was the fucking bane of your existence. 

“Is he even of age?” You snorted, glancing Parker’s way. “He looks sixteen.” 

“I’m twenty two.” Peter chimed in and you frowned.

He really didn’t look to be over twenty. Then again, in the past you’ve been asked for an ID even though you were way over twenty five. You had no idea how young people were when they started working for the mob. 

Perhaps Rogers had no conscience and hired kids for dirty jobs too. 

“He’s legal,” Steve sounded amused. “No forged papers on him. Lives alone with his aunt, so a solid job, like the one at the center, is something he needs.”

You did not believe in Rogers’ sympathy, not for a second. Perhaps he took care of his employees in a peculiar way, but you wouldn’t mistake it for him actually caring if Peter’s dreams come true, or if his economical status is secured. 

Moreover, you suspected he used Peter’s wobbling financial stability as a means to lure him into the mafia in the first place.

“Then he could’ve applied without your commendation. Since it’s his own motivation to work here, right?” You allowed yourself a defiant tilt of your chin and a challenging gaze, since Steve couldn’t see it anyway. 

You weren’t stupid to believe Steve pushed the kid into this position only because Peter needed it. More likely, Steve wanted someone from his own batch to infiltrate the center. Maybe even to keep an eye on you, though you seriously didn’t imagine how a barely-out-of-teens boy was supposed to do that. 

“Recommendation is an additional bonus to an otherwise great employee you’ll be hiring.” 

You didn’t know Steve well enough yet to assess by his tone alone if he was growing annoyed with this conversation, or rather bored (since he knew you would be agreeing to his demands anyway, unless you wanted more harm happening). 

“That depends on the recommendation,” you muttered, too late realizing you said it out loud.

“You don’t trust my word, Princess?” A deeper timbre resounded in Steve’s voice, sending a shiver across your skin. 

He wasn’t there, but you could easily imagine the glint in his blue eyes as he peered at you from beneath his long eyelashes. An edge of a blade caressing your breakable skin.

“I’m miffed at you planting your fucking seeds in my center, when it was supposed to stay under my care!” 

There was a pause after you snapped.

One in which you cursed yourself inwardly for once again antagonizing someone who held your life in his hands, quite literally. Your heart thumped loudly, you felt the echo of it through your bones. 

However, when Steve’s voice returned with a reply, it wasn’t a promise of your death. 

Though it may as well have been, considering his words.  

“I can plant different seeds, if you wish. Inside you, Princess.”

Your intake of breath was sharp, your pupils widened and your mouth hung open. He did not just say that!, your mind screeched, while your body roused in alertness. 

You hung up the phone without uttering a single more word to Steve, then tossed it to the far edge of the desk as if it burned you. Your gaze lingered on it for a moment longer, in fear of it ringing to life. 

You couldn’t comment on Steve’s innuendo. Acknowledging it meant recognizing this particular aspect of marriage, which you somehow repressed from your mind. 

No, your marriage to Rogers was supposed to be only on paper, only for his gain of the lands and immunity. 

A facade, with a shiny ring and your new last name stained with the blood of Steve’s opponents. Not a true merging of two people, neither in minds nor in hearts, definitely not in bodies. 

A quiver pattered down your spine like a strummed string at the sudden, vivid image of Rogers’ thick body pressing into your naked space.

Fear, it had to be. But it also carried a rush of adrenaline that tingled in your nipples and brought heat to the sensitive shell of your ear.

“I need a break,” you shook yourself out of it and abruptly moved. “I’m going for coffee.”

“I can make you some,” Natalie offered, observing you with perfectly masked curiosity. 

It was a change in your behavior, this sudden restlessness and outbursts of unresolved tension. As stressful as taking over a big health center was, you managed to remain calm and professional since the first day. Natalie witnessed you roll your eyes a few times and assertively set yourself, but this was a novelty. 

She could only assume it was because of the tragic loss of an employee so early in your work, maybe suspect Rogers was threatening you. You doubted she’d ever imagine the extent of sweet terror he planned for you.

“No, I have to get out for a few minutes.” You weren’t even sure you really wanted coffee, a shot of vodka would be a better option. 

But you needed to step outside for a few minutes; to not see Peter’s boyish face with its innocence written all over it, while you knew the darkness he was signing his soul to. You hoped his only job was to tattle on you. 

You grabbed your handbag, purposely ignored your phone still hanging on the edge of the desk, and strode toward the exit. 

“What about Peter?” Natalie asked before you reached the door, both of them staring at you expectantly. 

“Hire him.” You sighed, anger whipping in your tone. 

“And you!” You glared Peter’s way. “Make sure your other boss knows that within these walls your duties are only to the center.” 

It was a bold statement. One you probably had no leverage to actually make real. In terms of power, Rogers had more of it, since he had it also over you. If he gave Peter a different task to run along his duties at the health center, that order would come first. 

Still, you wanted to make your opinion clear and install some respect for the work here. 

As you walked to the nearby coffee shop, you glanced around a few times to check if anyone was following you. You had no proof of Rogers sending someone to trail you, yet you were convinced of it. 

If he had, they were skilled at blending in, since no one seemed suspicious to you.

The usual buzzing noise of the coffee shop - conversations combined with quiet music and clinking of glass - felt like a soothing lullaby to your strained nerves. You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries. 

By the time you got your order, you had mostly calmed down. You were still pissed off, but there was no point in exhausting yourself fighting a losing battle. 

It was time to accept the uncomfortable truth of Steve’s upper hand. At all times. 

As you stirred your coffee with a paper spatula, someone stepped next to you. In your peripheral vision you caught their hand reaching for three packets of sugar. 

“I’d suspect having Rogers on your tail requires a stronger brew than coffee.” A smooth, melodic male voice started casually.

His words froze you in place for a second, trepidation stopping your heart and then rushing it into a rapid beat. 

You said nothing, tossing your spatula into the bin and quickly reaching for the cup lid to put on your paper cup and leave the place. The man’s hand slipped between you and the lid, pushing it to the side as he reached for the cinnamon sprinkle; his gesture seemingly so innocent.  

As he withdrew his hand, glass jar of cinnamon in his hand, your gaze dropped onto a leather casing left on the counter right next to your coffee. 

A police badge. In the name Quentin Duvall.

Was it a test? Since all signs on earth and in heaven pointed that Rogers had police and other agencies in his pocket, this could be a game to see if you’d stay loyal to your future husband. 

Logically, he shouldn’t expect you to. It was only your lack of connection that you didn’t dare to seek help in the law enforcement, for if you had some friend of a friend who was an officer then you’d go to them in a heartbeat. 

You were quite certain Steve knew you would and he probably didn’t care.

“He’s a pain not only in your ass,” the man said, exchanging the cinnamon for his badge. “It’s hard to build a case against him when more than half of my colleagues are on his payroll.”

“What do you want?” Your fingers squeezed the paper cup, coffee sloshing to the brim. 

You didn’t lift your head to look at him, figuring it was best to keep the impression of a casual conversation over coffee station. If you were being watched, perhaps it wouldn’t be too suspicious. 

“There’s an ATF agent working to build a case against Rogers’ mob. He’d like to meet you and propose a way to provide you protection for whatever you can bring to the table.”

“Why won’t he contact me directly?” Deliberately, you picked a jar of chocolate sprinkles and added them to your cooling coffee.

“Since he’s one of the very rare daring to hunt Rogers, he’s on the fucker’s radar. If he appeared anywhere near, Rogers would know of it and it could end badly for you.” There was a hint of concern in Duvall’s voice, but not enough to be a poor actor’s play.

Then again, maybe it was a perfect play. Luring you with a safeline, but making it risky so you wouldn’t see it as a trap right away. 

“If you want to help-” he picked a spatula and stirred his own coffee- “if you want to get out of Rogers’ grip, come here the day after tomorrow at the same time. I’ll give you the meeting details then.” 

He took his cup and left, merging with the group of friends that were exiting at the same time. You waited a few moments, carefully putting the lid on your cup and lifting it to your mouth for a long, thoughtful sip.

Your walk back to the center was sluggish, your gaze switching from staring blankly ahead to staring at the pavement beneath your feet. 

If it was a test and you failed it, what sort of consequences would Steve draw out? If, by some miracle, a just officer could save you from the dragon guarded tower, shouldn’t you risk it? 

As you sat in your office, too preoccupied with the new dilemma, your irritation grew. That someone appeared and rocked the boat on an already stormy sea. 

Though a flicker of hope tempted you to take the risk and meet the agent, you were annoyed that it came as another drastic change in your life in such a short time. Honestly, a part of you simply wanted to just go steady with one route, even if it was the one with you on Rogers’ leash.

At least it would be settled. If you kept fighting, not only would it piss off Rogers, but it meant exhaustion for you. Perhaps a never ending one. 

Because was there really a chance for protection from Steve, if his ties reached to the Capitol and beyond?

Natalie found you deep in thought and blankly staring at the window of your office. She did a quick scan of the untouched documents which you should be working on, then flicked her gaze to you. 

Whatever she saw in your face, it made her close the door to your office and lock it. 

She moved a free chair to sit next to you on your side of the desk and in a hushed tone asked what was going on.

You looked at her for a long, silent moment. It would be reckless to tangle another innocent soul into the sticky, dark web in which you were trapped. You didn’t want to put her in danger. But you needed someone to know, someone who was a part of it from the beginning even if it was as a bystander.

Natalie and Felix were the ones who told you the truth of who Steve is in the first place, so at least you didn’t have to reveal to her something she wouldn’t already know about the man. 

With a sigh, you opened your mouth and told her everything. 

As you studied Natalie’s face afterwards, you realized she might have been the best choice to share the burden. There was no fear on her face, no panic settling in. She frowned, processing it all and you almost could sense the cogs in her head turning as she conjured up a plan. 

“That officer, what was his name again?” She asked, sliding her phone out of her pocket and typing rapidly.

“Duvall. Quentin Duvall.” You told her. “Why?”

“I fucked a guy who has ways to check people’s background,” Natalie replied without an ounce of shame or awkwardness. “A computer geek. I’ll ask him to check if officer Duvall is who he claims to be.”

“Oh!” That way at least you’d know if it wasn’t a scheme. “That’s helpful. Thank you.”

Natalie didn’t acknowledge your gratitude, as if it wasn’t even needed. Determined and focused on the task, she exchanged text messages with whomever was so into her he still agreed to do for her something that was probably illegal.

Since you were engaged to a mob boss, you weren’t going to judge. 

Few hours later, just as you were finishing for the day, Natalie returned to your office with ready information. 

“It’s your choice,” she said, taking her jacket off. 

Thin bracelets on her wrist jingled faintly, a peek of a small spider tattoo on her forearm quickly disappeared beneath the folded jacket which she draped over her arm.

“But I think you should meet him. A meeting doesn’t yet mean you’re agreeing to anything.” She walked next to you as both went toward the exit. “If they don’t offer you actual solid protection, you simply give them nothing.”

“What if Rogers finds out about the meeting and it angers him? Even if I don’t say anything yet.” Somehow, as you thought of the consequences to your decision, it was Steve’s face that kept popping in your head. 

His icy eyes trained on you; his fingers stroking you before clenching around your throat. 

Natalie paused, glancing at you with a scowl. She didn’t seem annoyed with your question, but rather with the fact she had no certain answer for it. Natalie liked knowing everything. 

“That I don't know.” She admitted, with a small pout. “In different circumstances I’d go for some predictable wrath, but honestly? He declared your engagement. That’s definitely completely unpredictable. So who knows what he’d do.” 

It was a very small, very naive consolation, but you reminded yourself that if he wanted you dead, Rogers would have made that happen already. 

If you were his employee who betrayed him, then severe torture awaited, if not aforementioned death. 

What awaited an unruly fiancee?

You hoped to never find out. Being extra careful in your act of casual trip to the coffee shop on the pointed day, you already considered potential excuses for another meeting, details of which Duvall was supposed to give you.

It better not be on some late evening in some shady place, because even though you still didn’t catch anyone following you it didn’t mean Rogers didn’t have an eye on you. 

To your surprise, and actual relief, Duval didn’t talk to you this time, just slipped you a piece of paper as he tossed out a napkin into a bin right next to which you were standing at the coffee shop. It contained the address of a small apothecary in a nearby neighborhood and an afternoon hour. 

That was very clever. A visit to such a place wasn’t anything unusual, even if most people bought their medicine at the big drugstores. And since it would still be daylight, it seemed even more harmless. 

Natalie agreed with you on that, telling you also about a bakery nearby into which you could also step in to keep the appearance of running errands. 

Both of you probably watched too many crime shows, but it came in handy. 

The lights in the apothecary were on when you went in, but it occurred to you that it was completely empty only when the door closed behind you. 

There were shelves stacked with medicines, some key-locked cases and an antique looking chest of drawers, which you suspected was more for decoration than to keep chemicals inside. 

There was no one behind the counter, however. Only the backdoor, leading to an additional room, was open. 

“Hello?” You called out, not moving from your spot near the door, in case you needed to run. 

There was some shuffling and then Duvall appeared in the backdoor. He smiled in relief, clearly fearing you would not come. He beckoned you over and you followed him through the short, narrow corridor into another room.

Spacious, but minimalist (to not say empty) compared to the front. There were two industrial tables and three chairs, some metal cabinets and neatly grouped apparatus. 

The man who leaned against one of the tables didn’t look like a chemist. 

Though you suspected a man like him may know a thing or ten about chemicals that blew up, judging by his close to military look. Well, since you never met an ATF agent in person, perhaps it was how they dressed. 

“Claude Batroc.” He introduced himself, with a smile that perhaps would be charming if not for a hint of dishonesty to it.

There was something about that man that instantly made you feel uneasy. 

Steve raised the hair on the back of your neck as well, but his type of danger was a sizzling black fog that engulfed you in its warm embrace and zapped your body with scary tingles. Batroc was the sound of screeching tires a second before a truck pummels into you.

Your instinct was telling you it’s best to squirm your way out of this, even though you haven’t yet heard the deal they offered. 

“Officer Duvall claims you’re able to help me,” you swallowed past your nervousness and looked at him expectantly. 

Like Natalie told you, you planned on making sure their promise was solid, before you jumped off any cliff.  

“I am.” He nodded, tilting his head to the side. “But that depends on what you can give me?”

You frowned. You assumed they knew how new and short your acquaintance with Rogers was; that you weren’t one of his inner circle people, who could provide a lot of intel. 

Foolishly maybe, but you thought being threatened and knowing of Felix’s demise was enough for them to consider you an important witness. There wasn’t anything else of heavy value that you could bring to the table. 

“Does he really have the stones?” came Batroc’s direct question.

Simple, but completely confusing for you. 

Out of all the things you could’ve expected them to ask you, that never came to mind. 

“I don’t know anything about any stones,”  you said slowly. Your frown deepened as your brain tried to work out, if maybe there were some jewels involved in the whole mess.

Was Howard hiding a diamond mine under the health center, or something? 

“There’s a rumor that Rogers is in possession of the Infinity Stones.” Duvall mentioned and you glanced his way over your shoulder. When he saw your face, he sighed in disappointment. It was clear you were unaware of what they were talking about. 

“They belonged to Thanos. A Greek mogul, who’d probably surpass Zeus himself if mythological riches and armies were comparable to the real ones. He was in possession of the six, most valued gems in the world. They are called the Infinity Stones.”

“Few years ago Thanos was found dead.” Batroc took over the story. “Along with most of his men. A job so clean, nothing pointed to a rampage. And nothing but the gems disappeared from his fortress. No organization ever boasted it to be their job. In time, Rogers’ name has been whispered as the one to do it, but he never confirmed. Never put them up for auction.”

You shook your head again. The only gems that came to your mind as you thought of Steve Rogers were the few that glinted in the dark, thick silver of his rings. 

You doubted anyone would put the most valuable jewels in simple rings, which he wore daily on full display for everyone to see. 

Then again, wouldn’t that be a perfect power move? A shiny middle finger and a warning to anyone who dared to think they could cross Rogers. 

“A different angle then.” Batroc changed the topic. Quite eagerly, too, as if the one he was moving onto was to him far more important than a few shiny rocks. 

“Why is he circling around the health center?” Something dark, greedy, flashed in his eyes. “He’s already got his people sitting all over it. Made an effort to reach you directly, not just work under your nose.”

When Batroc straightened and made a slow step forward, you stepped back. Duvall was standing in the doorway, blocking your escape route. You didn’t think you’d need one, but now your instincts screamed at you that there was something bad behind their intentions. 

“Rogers isn’t the kind of man to tell his secrets left and right.” You tried to stand your ground, despite your pulse quickening in fear.

You weren’t a type of person to limitlessly trust the law enforcement, but since they were supposed to be determined to build a case against Rogers they should treat you (as the potential help in successful operation) with less creepiness.

At the moment, Batroc’s stance and the way his eyes danced over your form were displaying a poor skill at charm and comfort. 

“Maybe you aren’t privy to his secrets.” Batroc shrugged, then bared his teeth in a sinister grin. “Or maybe you’re the one who actually holds the key to the project Rogers has been building, huh?” 

“Quentin said you keep yourself guarded, which is smart if you’re going toe to toe with the likes of us. But there’s not a can that can’t be opened…” 

Perhaps Batroc was an agent and maybe he was building a case against Rogers. His methods, however, were those of another gutter kingpin. He could be working for one, doing his official job and an extra one on the side. Or he could be one himself. 

You should’ve predicted that your hope for help would be false. 

You considered Rogers playing you, testing your loyalty, meanwhile another mobster scum was attempting to use you to screw with Steve. 

“We’re gonna play some interrogation game. With bonuses.” At Batroc’s words, you made another hasty step backwards, your back hitting the metal cabinets. 

A sudden wheezing sound and a loud thump of a falling body averted Batroc’s attention from you. 

Duvall fell down lifelessly, face first onto the floor. At least a second passed before you noticed a pool of red spilling around his head like a horrific halo. 

Then something heavy flew across the space, knocking Batroc’s gun from his hand as he reached for it. 

Still glued to the cabinets, shock freezing you in place, you watched as Steve Rogers strode inside in all of his dark glory. Shoulders so wide he barely fit in the entrance, muscles straining under the fabric of his clothes.  

He and Batroc clashed in the middle of the room - forearm blocking a punch, then a knee up to block a kick. 

Both of them were fast and strong, their fight a darker, less choreographed movie combat. For every of Batroc’s hits, Steve delivered two. Despite his bulk, Steve was exceptionally graceful in his technique. His opponent stumbled for a second, shaking his head to get rid of dizziness after one of Steve’s hooks. Meanwhile Rogers didn’t even wince when Batroc managed to split his lip open. 

It wasn’t a fight that would continue honorably, until one yielded and pledged fealty. 

After disarming Batrock when he pulled out a knife, Steve kicked him a few steps away then drew out his gun and shot him three times. Twice in the chest, once in the head. 

You flinched with each gunfire sound, but remained glued to the spot. 

Your gaze was on Rogers, you didn’t pay much attention to other men stepping inside. Steve spoke to them, but all the voices blurred into a dull sound as your hammering heartbeat threatened to pound away each vessel in your body. 

Only your sight remained focused. Your mind picked Rogers as the only solid point to anchor itself to.

Perhaps simply because he saved you. Once again. Even if it was to ensnare you himself. 

You pushed against the cabinets, trying to bury yourself into them when Steve dismissed his people with some short orders and started towards you, but they didn’t budge an inch. 

You weren’t attempting to escape him. You wanted to escape your growing need to wrap your arms around him and cling to the beast that spared your life as the only source of comfort at the moment. 

Yet, you knew the sickness that bubbled in your stomach wasn’t because you felt a twisted sense of safety now that Rogers was here, but because you witnessed people being killed, blood splattering; hell, you nearly were mauled. Again. 

The anxiety was skyrocketing. Or it would be, if not for the freezing shock still gripping you so tightly you felt like trapped in a glass box. It was an inner torment, procured by your own neurotransmitters and chemicals, that kept you on the edge of a malfunctioning fight or flight mechanism. 

Steve’s broad form caging you in, shutting away the bloodied world outside of his arms, was the first thing that pulled your focus back to reality of now and here. 

The feeling of a hot, metal muzzle touching the underside of your jaw snapped you out of the traumatic trance. 

He pointed his gun at you. The one with which he shot Batroc. 

A spike of adrenaline roused your body into full alertness. However, instead of logical terror and tearing up at the oncoming death, your brain paid attention to how delicate that pressure of a gun was.

How the warmth of it felt against your clammy skin; how refreshing was the metallic scent of it and how quickly it disappeared under the familiar now undertones of Rogers’ cologne. 

That gun held so much power. 

It ruthlessly disposed of a direct threat to you. An extension to the one who was behind saving you over and over (even if it was only, so he could be the one to torment you). Steve was living up to being your knight. Not in shining armor; not even one with good intentions. No, he was a black knight whose curse trapped you in a twisted realm. 

“Did he lay a hand on you?” pressing the muzzle to your chin, Steve moved your face left and right as his eyes scanned your state.

Swallowing hard, you shook your head. You were unable to form a single word, your throat constricted with all the sobs which you couldn’t force out of yourself. 

“Good.” Steve stated simply, without much genuine relief. 

“Your naughty stunt served me well.” He mused as he gently dragged the barrel of his gun across your cheek and down your neck; like he was caressing you with fingers, not a deadly weapon. 

“I wanted to get rid of Batroc for a while now, but he buried himself so deep it was hard to find him. I should’ve known he’d come up for something when he saw everyone else wanted it.” 

You weren’t paying enough attention to Steve’s words to decipher their full meaning, your senses were more interested in attuning to the trace of his gun on your skin. 

Holding your gaze captive with his icy blue eyes (so clear and unmarred with anger, despite what just happened), Steve kept moving the muzzle of his gun from one of your collar bones to the other. Slowly.

He had to read something in your body you weren’t yet aware of - a spark of curiosity ignited in his irises. 

You realized what it was a few seconds later as you felt your nipples stiffen. 

No!, a voice in your head whispered in utter disbelief. That current at the touch of Rogers’ gun was arousal. Underlaid with fear, but the kind that spiced the arousal higher, not switched it off.

It had to be the adrenaline still rushing, you thought. Your mind locked in an acute stress reaction, so that your body got confused; it didn’t know how to react, or which hormones to produce.      

That had to be the reason, the only explanation. Because you have never experienced anything like this. 

Rogers being despicable aside, you simply never entertained any kinky fantasies that included a gun, or any other weapon, or being overpowered so completely. That was never something you considered you might like. 

But as much as you were afraid of Steve in general, in this very moment you somehow knew he wouldn’t hurt you. Not in a bad way. 

And the gun pressed to your body was a substantial proof of his power. One that could touch you physically; do things to you… 

“My, my, Princess,” Steve leaned closer; whether to feel you shiver, or to shield the view of you from any prying eyes. “You’re just full of surprises.” 

He ran the gun down your body - between your breasts and down your quivering belly. When the still warm muzzle nudged the hem of your flowy skirt up, the haze of shock snapped.

“I-” you started, but your voice was weak and breathless, turning into a gasp as Steve drew the gun higher up your thigh. 

“I should go.” You squeaked out, but somehow couldn’t tear your eyes away from Steve’s. 

The only muscles you moved were those of your legs, which parted slightly as he slipped the gun over your clothed core. 

His free hand shot up to your neck; ringed fingers curling around your throat in a loose reminder of Steve’s dominance. Like the first time he’s done it, your breath hitched in your lungs, your pupils widened and your knees weakened. 

Then the solid barrel rubbed against your covered folds and your lips parted on a needy whimper.

While it shocked you, it absolutely delighted Steve. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Princess.” He cooed, dragging the gun back and forth over your pussy. “It’s okay to need to take the edge off. After the afternoon you’ve just had.”

“That’s not how-” a part of your brain tried to fight the building arousal. 

You closed your eyes, instantly opening them again at Steve’s warning hiss. In his eyes danced a glint of triumph - bright and cold like a blade pulled straight from the forgery. 

“Not like this.” You muttered, embarrassed with how eager your body was to experience the little thrill of being caressed with something that could so easily hurt you. 

Sex as a way of destressing wasn’t a foreign concept. Hell, an orgasm or two often helped you relieve some tension after dealing with daily obstacles and minor inconveniences. You’d even agree about needing one to burst you out of the bubble of shock you fell into today. 

But you could do that on your own, not by the hand of the handsome monster who forced himself into your life. And with your own toys - the normal, safe ones. 

It was both a relief and a shameful disappointment when Steve withdrew the gun. 

“Slide your hand into your panties, Princess,” he brushed the side of the gun against your arm, nudging your wrist.

Your fingers twitched, but you didn’t move. Your heart was still going like crazy, the beat of it pulsing in your clit. 

“Come on,” Steve traced his gun up your arm, then tapped your cheek with it, “be a good girl and put your hand in your panties.”

You knew it wasn’t a request, but a command. No matter if Steve’s voice melted into a soft, thick and sweet like chocolate tone. Slowly, you reached your hand beneath your skirt and under the waistband of your cotton and lace panties. 

“That’s it.” Steve brushed his lips over your temple, whispering dirty encouragement. “Now slide your fingers over your pussy. All the way.”

You did as he asked; trembling fingers dipping between your soft folds.

“Now show them to me.” He pulled back slightly.

You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole to cut your shame short, as you lifted your hand up for Steve to see. 

Your fingers were sticky with your wetness, a pearly string of slick stretching between them. 

“Seems to me that’s exactly how you need it, Princess.” Steve smirked; icy blue of his irises heating into white flame.

A retort was forming on your tongue, but died a second later. When Steve’s mouth closed around your digits and he sucked them clean. 

His tongue lavished the crease between your fingers, teasing your rotten mind with a reflection of where else on your body he could use that tongue. Suction of his mouth wasn’t gentle, strumming down your nerves with vibration from his pleased hum. He pulled off, with a lewd swipe of his tongue.

For a millisecond, your gazes locked in quiet suspension. 

A blink of an eye and then the gun was back beneath your skirt, while Steve’s lips were capturing yours in a filthy demand. He pushed the barrel past the fabric of your panties this time, hard metal grazing your delicate parts. His dark chuckle in response to your moan reverberated on your lips. 

The fingers curled around your neck tightened slightly, his thumb pressing over your carotid, but not enough to cut off your air. Not yet, at least.

Stars danced in the corners of your vision, heightened pleasure mixed with delicious trepidation filling your body with bubbles of ecstasy unknown to you until now. 

Steve angled his gun so that it spread your folds, rubbing your clit and teasing your entrance with each slide. Your hips rocked back eagerly. When he pushed a little deeper, pressing the muzzle into your opening, you almost seized. 

One of your hands flew to Steve’s forearm, holding onto the wrist of his hand which was choking you. The other fisted his shirt near the collar. You let out a startled cry that turned from appalled to needy. 

“Give it up, Princess,” Steve teased your bottom lip with his tongue, all the while nudging the muzzle into your cunt. 

Muscles in your legs tensed, your eyes shimmered with tears that weren’t of sadness or pain. You were ashamed of your reaction to the filthy debauchery, but you wanted, needed it so badly.

“I’m gonna have you cum for me anyway, so just let go.” 

That demand was sharper. Steve’s fingers on your throat tightened, cutting off the flow of air. At the same time, he pushed the gun deeper. Merely an inch or two slipped inside, but it was enough to feel your pussy stretch around it. 

Your climax was an outburst with sharp edges, each tremor feeling like an electric current. Your cries sounded choked, though Steve released his hold on your neck enough for the air to flow easily into your lungs. 

The gun wasn’t inside you anymore, but he kept moving it harshly against your clit, prolonging your orgasm to a point of painful throb that threatened to build into another humiliation if he continued longer. 

If he slid the gun back, or his cock into your quivering cunt, you’d probably lose your conscience. While cumming all over him again. 

Finally, Steve eased the pressure. He occupied your lips with sensual kisses, slow and lingering, and tongue dipping indecently into your mouth. The gun withdrew from your panties, the fabric clinging to your drenched pussy in an embarrassingly uncomfortable way. 

Your arms fell to your sides when Steve let go of your neck and straightened. He wiped his gun, covered with your slick, in your skirt, then secured it back in the holster at his side.

“There now. Isn’t it better?” You weren’t certain if he was mocking you, or if it was a pure cocky smugness. 

You were gaping at him, your breath still ragged. Your legs were shaking and your heart was hammering, but there was warmth and life and a vivid feeling of anger resurfacing. No longer the cold stupor of shock and fear.

No, Steve beckoned your brain back to reality. After short circuiting it. 

“Better?” You hissed, clenching your hands into fists. “You pointed a gun at me!” 

“And you creamed all over it, Princess.” Steve’s knowing smirk added to your shame. 

“You shot someone!” You derailed, unable (and unwanting) to unpack the mess of your body’s reaction to being fucked with a gun. 

“Just straight up shot them. In broad daylight!” It was now reaching your mind that all the terrors and dirty deeds, which have happened in the past half an hour, didn’t take place in the deep darkness of the night. It was a sunny afternoon, with people walking the streets just outside the front door of an ordinary apothecary. 

“They would’ve hurt you,” came Steve’s remorseless reply. 

Simple and direct, spoken in a warning growl.

“Nobody hurts what’s mine.”   

There was nothing romantic about it, even if your post-orgasmic heart flowed with bonding oxytocin. 

It was a dark claim, making you into Steve’s possession. His protection of you came only from the need to have his pride untouched - if anyone managed to steal or hurt his bride, it weakened Steve’s ruthless reputation. 

“Now let’s get you out of here, so my cleaning team can swipe in.” Steve motioned at you to follow him as he moved toward the exit. 

Your feet were frozen to the spot. There was a dead body of a man between you and the door; the pool of blood inches away from your toes. You definitely wanted to get out of there, but you couldn’t simply make yourself jump over someone’s corpse. 

Steve’s impatient sigh was motivating - you did not want to get on his nerves too much. But your body wasn’t listening to any of your commands. As it didn’t listen to you when you tried to fight off the arousal earlier.

Suddenly, you were picked up. 

Steve hoisted you up easily, throwing you over his shoulder. He carried you over Duvall’s dead body and through the narrow corridor, ignoring your outraged squeak.  

“All that blood and death, you really need to focus on lighter things from now on.” He said conversationally, tone light as if aforementioned gore was just a chore from which one needed to take a break. 

“For a while, at least-” Steve continued, as he carried you out the front- “Wedding planning should help with that.”

“No! I don’t want it!” You protested, kicking your legs. 

With what just happened, you couldn’t imagine forcing yourself to organize a fucking wedding. One you didn’t want in the first place. You couldn’t imagine going back to your routine, daily life at all. 

You just weren’t sure if it was the deaths you witnessed that changed your life forever, or the wrong kind of desire that Steve brought out of you. 

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t. But you will.” He put you down on your feet once you were outside. 

Steve cupped your chin, crushing it painfully between his thumb and forefinger, and tilted your face up.

“We both know you will be a good girl for me, Princess.”

#touch the darkness #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers #dark mafia!steve rogers #dark mafia!steve rogers x reader #dakr mafia!steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers imagine #my writing

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Bad For Business: Level Four

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.2K] An enemies to lovers au. Arcade coworkers, who love to hate each other, get too competitive about Dig Dug and share a mutal annoyance for the kids that like to pester them. Choose your own adventure by picking an option at the end of the chapter.

There was a boy at the desk asking for you. 

He was tall and a little wild looking, unruly dark curls and tattoos peeking out from under the leather and denim he wore, all ripped off sleeves and silver rings. He was smirking at Steve like he knew something he didn’t, like was in on some sort of secret. 

Steve didn’t like him. 

“She’s on her break,” Steve told him, eyes narrowed like he couldn’t help himself. “Went to the store or something.”

Steve expected that to be the end of it, but the boy with all the rings just grinned, dimples on show before he hoisted himself onto the desk. “I’ll wait,” he said, too cheery. “I’m Eddie, by the way. Munson.”

Steve nodded, keeping his distance as he pretended to tidy away loose rota sheets, used up ticket stubs and a piece of paper Robin and Argyle had been drawing progressively larger dicks on. One had wings and a halo. 

“Yeah, I know,” Steve frowned. He was still suspicious. Why was the local drug dealer coming in and asking for you? The arcade was quiet enough that Steve didn’t have an excuse to leave, and honestly, he wanted to stick around and see. “Just didn’t realise you guys… knew each other.”

Eddie looked smug in an awful way, still acting like he was clued into something Steve didn’t have any idea about. Like he was trying not to laugh at him. The longer haired boy tilted his head to the side, all charm and bravado, still smiling. “Oh yeah.” He nodded, enthusiastic. “We know each other real well. Super close.”

You hadn’t mentioned Eddie before. Not in front of Steve. Fuck, you’d never mentioned any sort of boyfriend at all. But then Steve remembered nights that it rained, when he’d jog to his car only to see you run past him, jacket over your head and clambering into an old van, the windows dark enough that you could never see the driver. 

Maybe he’d been kidding himself all those times when he assumed it was your dad. 

“Oh,” fuck, is that all he could say? “Cool.” 

There was a beat of silence between them, smothered in arcade game jingles and alarm bells that announced a new winner, but the air was heavy enough to be felt, thick with a tension Steve wasn’t used to. 

Was this what being threatened felt like? 

No. No. Steve didn't have anything to feel threatened about. So why was he still talking?

“I guess - I mean - well, I just never knew she had a boyfriend.” Steve cleared his throat, all awkward and he found himself standing a little straighter, chest puffed out, chin held high.  

Thank fuck Robin wasn’t on shift, ‘cause Eddie was laughing and suddenly Steve felt about three feet shorter. What the fuck was this guys problem?

“I didn’t know you gossiped about your love lives, Harrington,” Eddie shot back. His smile was wolfish and it looked like a challenge, it felt like a dare. “You interested in who she’s hangin’ out with outside of work?”

“What?” It was jarring, the way Steve’s stomach dropped. A new kind of nervousness twisting around his guts, a heat that crawled from his stomach to his chest. His cheeks felt too warm. “What? No. Jesus, no, I just— we’re not even friends.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it still tasted like one. Bitter and acidic, like swallowing a too big pill without water. It got stuck in his throat, made him wince. 

Eddie tutted, leaning back in his hands, taking up the majority of space on the counter top. His legs were swinging, rips across his knees in his black jeans, a chain hanging from his belt looks, glinting in the neon lights. He looked like he was having far too much fun. 

“That’s a shame,” Eddie twisted his lips, big eyes looking all sad, acting up like he was on stage or something. “She’s real sweet, isn’t she?”

Steve scoffed, a choked out laugh that made Eddie’s lips twitch up. Steve busied himself with more loose papers, bundling together things that weren’t supposed to be filed with each other, name badges and empty chocolate wrappers stuck between faxes. 

“Uh, sure, maybe,” Steve wrinkled his nose, squinting at the other boy. “I don’t know. She’s never, uh, all that sweet to me.”

And then Eddie was laughing, a full, bright cackle of a laugh and Steve was once again left feeling like he didn’t know the full joke. But he didn’t get to ask what he’d missed, what was so funny, ‘cause a kid who could hardly see over the desk approached him, a sticky hand full of equally sticky tickets that he wanted to swap for some knock off Star Wars toy. Disgruntled, Steve fussed with the glass cabinet where they kept all the ‘prizes’, his gaze flickering between Eddie and the door.  

Surely you’d be back soon. Right? To see your boyfriend.  

When the kid was gone, happily clutching his ‘nightsaber’ (even Steve knew that was wrong), Eddie was watching him again. 

“She’s pretty, right?” 

Steve froze. “What?” Was this some kind of trick? Who the fuck goes ‘round asking other dudes if they think their girlfriend is pretty? “I don’t— I’ve never—”

Eddie was grinning. Again. That Cheshire Cat smile, white teeth flashing somewhat threateningly. Steve didn’t know what the fuck was going on. Was this about last week? The powercut? Did you go home and tell your boyfriend how close Steve got to you, how he held your hand and for once in his goddamn life, Steve Harrington didn’t wanna argue with you?

“You don’t think she’s cute?”

Nothing had happened. Nothing ever would’ve. It couldn’t. You hated him, and Steve hated you. Right? Right. 

“Look, dude, I don’t know what your deal is, but I’m not trying to hit on your girl, alright?” Someone got a new high score on the pinball machine across from the desk and an alarm rang, tickets flying out of the dispenser, lights flashing red and green. It felt like a warning. “She— we��� we don’t talk, alright? Not like that, god, we’re not friends, okay?”

Eddie didn’t really seem to believe him, but Steve was more than relieved when the boy shrugged and slid off of the counter, dimples on show, beaming at him. He dusted his hands off like he’d completed whatever task he’d come to do before dropping a set of keys in front of Steve. 

“Tell uh, my girl, that it was a radiator leak. No biggie. Car’s out front,” another flash of a smile, too charming now. Steve’s head was spinning. “Catch you later lover boy.”

What the fuck?

Eddie made his way past a crowd of kids, neon signs lighting up his skin in shades of lime green and fuschia. He spun before he got to the door, clapping his hands together and pointing back at the other boy, like he’d just remembered something important. 

Is this where Eddie threatened him? Told him to stop looking at his girlfriend and keep his hands to himself? It was a fucking powercut, it was pitch black, what was he supposed to do? Let her hurt herself? The argument was already playing out in Steve’s head, his defence at the ready. 

Besides, he could take Eddie Munson, right? Sure he was pretty much the same height but Steve was broader, stronger, surely. But maybe Eddie had that trailer park kid scrappiness, that feral sort of energy Dustin said Max exuded when she got ramped up—

“And, uh, Harrington?”

Steve felt his fist tighten around the countertop. 

“You’ll catch more bees with honey than vinegar.” Eddie saluted, a massive skull glinting silver and pink in the light, and then with a wink, he was gone. 

What the fuck?

He didn’t get a chance to ask what Eddie was on about, because Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson approached the desk, ignoring how he was standing with his mouth agape, brows knitted together in confusion. Everything was almost forgotten about as he argued with the two young boys about how no, he didn’t know when Donkey along was getting fixed, and no, he wasn’t prepared to let them poke about at the machine with Dustin’s backpack screwdriver. 

And then you came back from your lunch, a flash of daylight breaking the darkness of the arcade as the door opened and shut behind you. Steve watched you hand a wrapped sandwich to Argyle before making your way around the desk to where he stood. 

Maybe he was staring, maybe that’s why you were looking at him weird. Maybe that’s just the kinda gaze you gave him on the daily. You were wearing a skirt today, black and swishy around your thighs, your staff shirt cut off so it hit just above your navel, much to Murray’s despair. There was a warning written up and stuck to your locker, but you hadn’t seemed to care. 

“What?”

Shit, Steve was still staring. He blinked, shrugged and turned back to the cash machine, despite no customers to serve. “What? Nothin’, god.”

You didn’t argue with him, just narrowing your eyes at his strange mood before pushing your way into the staff room. It was empty bar someone’s leftover lunch and a walkman that lay on the table and then suddenly Steve was barging his way into the too small room, a familiar set of keys in his hands. Your disco ball keychain sent rainbows over the walls, tiny glimmers of light across Steve’s cheeks, his hands, his arms. 

He held them out to you, cheeks tinged pink like something had happened and you’d missed it, ‘cause he couldn’t really look you in the eye either. You stared, taking your keys from the boy slowly, like any sudden movements would scare him. 

Not that you cared. 

Steve spoke before you could say thanks, leaning against Murray’s abandoned desk with his hands shoved in his pockets as he cleared his throat. The air was heavy with something, more tension than you were used to, a weight to it that was more than summer air and teenage hormones. 

“Your uh, your boyfriend dropped them off,” Steve was finally looking at you, brown eyes honeycomb in the too bright lights. “Said it was a broken radiator or somethin’.”

You frowned, confused at the word that was thrown out between you. Boyfriend? But once again, before you could manage to speak, Steve was talking again, all his thoughts tumbling out at once, swimming at your feet. 

“Eddie Munson, huh? I didn’t— I didn’t know you were dating him. Or anyone. Not that it matters,” Steve sucked in a breath, like he was trying to catch each sentence, like he could swallow back the words he’d already said. “It doesn’t matter, obviously. Why would it? I mean, fuck, s’not like we share updates on our love lives or shit—” 

“Harrington.”

“—like, I don’t care if you’re dating him, I just didn’t, like, except it, you know? Munson? Didn’t think he was your type, not that I know what your type is, s’not like I think about it or anything—”

“Steve.”

The boy stopped talking, jaw snapping shut as he looked at you, a little wide eyed. He was breathing a little heavier, hands leaving his pockets only to take through his hair. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You played with the keys in your hands, disco ball keychain clinking prettily between the silver. The reflections scattered, rainbow coloured freckles on Steve’s cheeks. “I’m not dating Eddie, we’re just friends.”

You weren't sure why you were explaining this.

“But Munson said—” Steve stopped mid sentence, the abruptness of it hanging in the air between you. Eddie hadn’t said you were dating. Eddie hadn’t called himself your boyfriend, had he? No. That was Steve’s doing. “Uh, he called you his girl… I just assumed…”

You snorted, eyes rolling in a way that held a lot more affection than what he was used to seeing when it was directed at him. You shrugged, dropping yourself into a chair at the table, eyeing Steve with a new sort of curiosity. He really was acting fucking weird. 

“We’re close,” you said, copying Eddie’s words from earlier without even knowing. “Best friends, you know? Nothing… nothing more.”

“Oh.” Steve’s lips were a pretty ‘o’ shape, pink and pouting and you practically saw the gears inside his head whirring. “Right.”

“He was probably just trying to be funny,” you explained, unwrapping a chocolate bar you’d taken from your bag. You bit into it, licking caramel from your lips. “He’s not though. Despite what he thinks.”

Steve nodded, looking a little dazed, but he pushed himself off of Murray’s desk and sent you another look you couldn’t really decipher. Before he made it back to the door that led to the arcade, you stopped him, an edge to your voice that wasn’t there before. 

“Did he, uh,” you winced when your voice cracked, staring at the table instead of the boy. “Did Eddie say anything else?”

Steve almost kicked the desk leg, swearing as he spun back to you, eyes darting over your face, like he was trying to work something out. He thought about Eddie’s questions. 

If Steve thought you were sweet. If Steve thought you were pretty. 

“What?”

‘You’ll catch more bees with honey than vinegar.’

“Did he say anything? You know, stupid shit.” You licked your lips again, chasing sugar, looking nervous. 

Lover boy lover boy lover boy. 

“No,” Steve lied, feeling something burn in his chest. Maybe it was the breath he was holding. “No, he didn’t say anything else.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb

[yoonia]

overdrive (m) | B.I

⤑ Summary | As his personal manager who always works closely with him in both his professional activities and private matters, it has become one of your duties to cater to his needs, to always be on his beck and call, even if you have to put aside your own needs to please him.

⤑ Title | Overdrive ⤑ Pairings | Kim Hanbin (B.I) x female reader ⤑ Genre | PWP, Smut, Artist/Musician!B.I, Manager!reader ⤑ Word count | 13,345 words

⤑ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; involves mature and explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, groping, stripping/nudity, breast play, hand job, oral sex (male receiving/blowjob), deepthroating, unprotected sex, public sex, tour bus sex, accidental voyeurism, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, hair pulling (on both), edging, begging, swearing, breast play, nipple play, panty ripping, fingering, clit play, finger licking, cum tasting/eating, cum swallowing, biting, light restraint, implied creampie, panty biting(?), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare, body worshipping.

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⤑ Story Notes | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story is purely a work of fiction, with the usage of artist’s/idol’s names as fictional characters. Any similarities in the usage of names for other characters and circumstances are purely coincidental. | PS. This is only roughly edited, but I hope you’ll still enjoy reading the story. 

It feels like only moments ago this place was thriving with raw energy.

Loud music was blasting through the speakers, while the sounds of fans screaming his name and singing along to his song echoed through the entire venue. Everyone and every part of this place came alive as Hanbin took control of the stage with his mere presence. 

You can almost see him still being there as you look over at the stage, commanding it with his music. You still remember how he kept everyone completely entranced with his alluring voice and hypnotising moves. What he did on stage was pure magic. 

And that magic must have been strong enough that you can still picture him doing his thing on that empty stage. You can still feel his presence even after the lights have been turned off and the crowd has long since left this place to return home. 

Thinking about him like this makes your body burn hot. 

Your heartbeat starts racing the same way it did earlier while you were standing by the side of the stage, watching him move his body to the music. After spending the past year working with him and then joining him on this tour, the reactions he inflicts on you no longer surprise you. 

He captivates you in ways that you can never possibly explain. That you have never experienced before. 

Even once the music has stopped, once his performance has long ended and there are no more of his lively audience around you dancing and screaming his name, you can still feel everything. 

Even without the music, its vibration seems to linger. Still reverberates through the air around you and you can feel it deep within your body. As if the space around you is still humming with his presence even in the silence that remains.

“You’re still here?” a voice calls out, drawing your attention away from the empty stage and out of your thoughts right before they begin to dive into a different, slightly darker place. The road manager comes to your side. The man appears just as exhausted as you are—perhaps even more, knowing what he is required to do before and after these shows—yet he still has a big smile on his face as he greets you. 

“Yeah, I just met up with the promoter, so I figured I’d check in to see how you guys are doing while I’m still around,” you try to make up excuses. Not that he would start questioning further. “How’s everything going?” 

The road manager begins explaining everything—from all the tasks that the road crew had just completed and how they are handing the rest to the local staff. Skipping all the technical details that you have no business with except to report back to Hanbin later. 

Much later.

Once you are done with your actual responsibilities. 

As Hanbin’s personal manager who normally handles his private needs, keeping watch of the road crew dismantling the stage equipment and the stereo system isn’t really a part of your duty in the first place. Especially when there aren’t really that many things they would need to cover in these indoor venues. Getting to know what they are doing isn't even the reason why you still remain here after the show is over. 

You are simply buying time before returning back to him. Which is what you probably should be doing already now that everything else has been taken care of. 

“Everything is packed and ready to go. I think the boys are planning to join the dance crew and grab dinner somewhere nearby, then we’ll be out of here before midnight,” the road manager continues as he walks with you towards the backdoor of the venue. “How about you join us?” 

His offer catches you off guard, yet you quickly refuse. “No, thank you, you guys go ahead. I still have some things to do, so I’ll figure something out later.” 

Just as you are heading towards the exit, you are met with the guys from the dance crew, and Hanbin’s close friends, coming in from the parking lot. Most of them look freshly showered, having found the time to freshen up after getting heated from the show. They all give you a friendly greeting once they notice you there, while Shawn, one of the dancers, steps closer to you to say hi. 

You look over his shoulder to confirm that Hanbin isn’t with them. 

Noticing this, he immediately says to you in a low voice, “Hanbin’s back in the bus. Said he wanted to chill and take it easy for the night. He also said that he’s waiting for you to talk about something.” 

“Ah, I see,” you answer him, trying to stay calm about it when your heart is palpitating at the thought of Hanbin waiting for you to come and see him. 

Alone. 

Which only means one thing—

“We’re heading out to get some food and maybe find some snacks and drinks for the road. Should we get you guys something to eat too?” Shawn kindly offers. You can only smile and nod while trying your best not to take notice of the way he speaks, or the way he is looking at you knowingly. You also ignore the way he seems to be insinuating something else when he speaks about you and Hanbin. 

As if he knows your little secret and the real reason why Hanbin is expecting you. 

“Sure, that would be lovely. Thanks for offering. He’ll probably skip dinner if you don’t get him something to eat.” 

The dancer grins. “I wouldn’t be too worried about it if I were you.” 

Shawn’s cryptic answer stays with you for a while as you walk away from the group. Yet you try not to let it bother you too much as you start making your way to find Hanbin. 

The night breeze welcomes you as you step out of the establishment. Then the silence thickens around you as you walk across the quiet parking lot. You merely take a moment to breathe in the fresh air around you and pay no heed to everything else, having only one destination in mind. But you make sure to remain within the shadows formed under the line of trees on the edge of the parking lot, keeping away from the fans who might still be lingering around or taking their time leaving the place. 

It doesn’t take long before you start seeing them. 

There are some standing beyond the trees in pairs while others are gathering in small groups. Some appear to be lounging around and resting, no doubt trying to come down from the high that they had all gotten from the concert before tracking their way back home or to their hotels. Others seem to linger without any apparent reason. Perhaps nothing other than hoping to get one last glimpse of Hanbin or get noticed by him and his boys if they would just wait around a bit longer. 

You watch them for a brief moment before continuing your walk across the parking lot. Parked at a dark corner at the far end of the parking lot, it feels like it is taking you forever to finally reach the tour bus. As it they had all the intention to tuck it away and keep it from being seen. 

Once the tour bus appears in your line of sight, your heart stutters. 

Under the night sky and kept in the dark, the vehicle looks almost inconspicuous. It doesn’t draw too much attention even with its size and how out of place it seems to be here. 

Yet it draws something else out of your thoughts as you take a good look at it. 

It brings a smile to your face when you remember how it all started, how Hanbin and his team came up with the idea of travelling between places in such a bus throughout this tour. He sold the idea as a way for him to make the most out of it, to embrace every moment that he could get and be able to visit different places in between. He also talked about his wish to live life like a rockstar while he is on the road—something which was quite alarming and made you worry at first, hence why you have been joining him through the whole tour.

So far, it has been rare for you to join him and his tight crew riding on the bus during the overnight drives, except for the short journeys and when you had to work side by side with him between shows. 

Other times, you have been travelling solo whenever you were required to. Only so you could be ahead of the entourage to make sure that all the preparations needed for his show would be in place by the time they arrived. 

Tonight, that would be one of the things that is going to change. 

With one last destination left on the tour, the bus and its passengers will be heading down the road right away instead of remaining in this city for the night. And you are going to be joining them on the bus to get to the next destination instead of travelling solo to the next city. 

But as you walk towards the bus, you can feel, deep down, that the travel arrangement wouldn’t be the only thing that is going to be different tonight. 

The place around you is dark and quiet. So quiet that you can almost hear the sound of your rapid heartbeat echoing around you as you reach for the door. Your breath grows heavy as you open the door and climb your way in. More silence welcomes you, which only thickens further once the door is closed behind you. 

Making your way to the back of the bus, you walk past the seats where everyone would usually waste their time while on the road, loitering and chattering loudly with a ton of noises filling this area. The kitchen and the dining area look partly messy—with bags of potato chips and empty bottles left unattended on the counter, even when the tables are wiped clean—and you wonder just how much mess will be added here later once the boys are back. 

And then you reach the area where the bunk beds are. The sleeping quarters that everyone would use to rest and spend the night in while the bus is driving across cities and between borders. With only individual curtains giving each bunk its privacy, noises from outside can still filter through in the night. 

Thinking about this as you walk through the row of bunk beds only brings you back—way back—to the night which started it all. The same night which gave you the reason to be here, tracing your steps through the bus to look for Hanbin. 

It was after the second show when you tracked down this quiet aisle with the same purpose which led to one small mistake that started an entire ripple effect. You came here that night when Hanbin suddenly disappeared after the show while everyone was ready to grab dinner. You came back to the tour bus to find and fetch him so he could eat, knowing how often he would skip his meal when he was focused deeply in work. 

That night was exactly like tonight, with everyone away and on their way to find the nearest local restaurant, leaving the bunk beds empty. At least, that was what you had expected, believing that Hanbin must have lost track of time when he immediately dove straight back into work the way he often would just to burn out the rest of his energy for the night. 

You were heading further back of the vehicle to find him when a faint sound of a groan caught your attention. It sounded like someone or something was in one of the bunk beds, which drew your curiosity. So you stopped to listen.

A bunch of other noises started to become more noticeable then, and it didn’t take long for you to notice that the sounds came from the last bunk on the row. The one that Hanbin was meant to use during the long trips on the road. You carefully crept closer so you could listen better. To know just what was happening behind the curtain. 

There was a mix of cryptic sounds heard coming out of it—the sounds of sheets ruffling, soft knocking against the side of the bunk, and more soft groans.

You wondered for a moment if it was really Hanbin inside the bunk. But when you started suspecting him to be the source of those sounds, you immediately felt annoyed. Livid, even. When the thought of him doing something as risky as getting it on with some stranger crossed your mind. 

It didn’t help when you remembered about his wish to live like a rockstar. Remembered how he had spoken about it before the tour. The thought further led you into believing that he may have actually done it. That he had invited someone, perhaps a willing fan of his, onto the bus. 

It made you want to strangle him just thinking about him actually doing it. The last thing you needed was for him to get caught in trouble in the middle of the tour. Much less for him to get entangled in malicious rumours if something like this should get out in public. 

As the noises continued, you gently grabbed the hem of the curtain, ready to throw it back and bust him. A myriad of scolding went through your head at that point as you were ready to make him pay for it. 

Another groan was heard and you decided to move once you confirmed that it was really his voice that you heard. Ignoring the way the sound of his pleasured moan sent tingles through your body, you whipped the curtain back to catch him in the act, only to regret it as soon as you saw him. 

Hanbin looked like a deer caught in the headlights when he looked up. His eyes were wide open with fear, yet you could also see a dark need emerging from his gaze which became more visible the moment he realised that it was you. 

But you already had your attention somewhere else to notice it.

Reclining in the tight space within his bunk bed, Hanbin was bare-chested, wearing nothing more but his shorts that had been pushed down under his hips. You just couldn’t resist looking down to see his hand wrapped around his thick cock, fully exposed and standing hard against his stomach.

Once the shock wore off, his truth finally came out. He confided in you about his need to release all the energy that was still boiling within him after the show. That it would have made it hard for him to be able to feel calm in the night unless he had all of that energy drained out of him. To have it tamed, so that he could finally relax and have his proper rest. 

“I don’t really think it’s working, though,” he breathlessly said then with a bitter chuckle. “It’s been so long since I’ve been with anyone. And it’s kind of hard to make myself cum when my head is at the wrong places.”

“What if I give you a helping hand? Will it work?” The offer slipped right out of your lips before you could do anything to stop it. You didn’t even realise what you were offering him until the moment you saw the look on his face. He looked surprised, but intrigued at the same time. Then there was this new emotion which seemed raw and fierce coming out through his gaze when he considered taking your offer. 

“Why would I say no to that?” was what he said as he leaned back, allowing you to take matters into your own hands, literally, as you fixed his problems simply with the touch of your hands until he was able to find release. 

That was the first time that you crossed the line just to help him. And it was definitely not the last. 

The arrangement continued after the next show, and the next, and you kept coming to his aid at the end of every concert throughout the ongoing tour. Your help had become the best option available rather than allowing him to find other ways to get out of his predicament once the night got deeper and he was still too hyped up to sleep.

After a short while, your carnal favour has escalated from merely giving him your special aid through your helping hands to taking him deep in your mouth once he needed to be stimulated further. 

That was as far as you had gotten since this arrangement started. Never once had it led to something more. And Hanbin had always been the focus of your “service”, except for the few times he returned the favour by giving you release with the touch of his deft hands when you had to do this in the privacy of his hotel room. 

Your body trembles in heat. Both from reminiscing all the sinful act you had done to help him and from the pleasure that you gained in return through his touch. 

Reaching the end of the aisle, your eyes linger on the last bunk. The curtain is drawn, and there is no sound coming out of it. You can tell that he won’t be there if you pull that curtain open, so you move on.

The only sound that you can hear comes from the small room at the back of the bus instead. The area that was meant to be the master bedroom, altered into a private cabin with sofa beds and desks which would have more purpose for someone like Hanbin. 

You shouldn’t be surprised to know that Hanbin would choose to be there, waiting for you to come to him. Because you know that out of all the sections within the bus, it would be the only place that can provide you all the privacy that you may need to be able to help sort out the uncommon predicament that Hanbin might be facing tonight. 

Right this moment, that is where the faint sound of his moans and slow breaths is guiding you. And you follow its lead, with your heart palpitating the closer you are to get to it. 

As you gently open the door to the cabin, you find Hanbin sitting on the long sofa at the back of the room. The same sofa bed that you would use to sleep on whenever you are riding on the bus, when you are not helping Hanbin finish his work or write his music while everyone else is asleep in their bunks.

You enter the cabin, closing the door behind you. You take a moment to have a good look at him before coming to his side. 

Hanbin still has the same pants that he was wearing on stage. Sill bare-chested after discarding his shirt at the end of the show to toss it to God knows where. The only difference is that he is barefoot, with his shoes left hastily on the floor. The strands of his hair—which appear to be wet with sweat—are now a complete mess with curly strands falling over his face like curtains shielding him from the dim lights illuminating the room.

Hanbin has his head tilted back as he reclines on the sofa, looking awfully exhausted after the hours-long, full-energy show that he had just concluded. You can see his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His bare skin is glistening with a thin layer of sweat that somehow makes him look even more alluring than he always has been. The glow on his skin further accentuates the lines on his chest, shoulders, and torso, making you feel the urge to touch him there. 

Before you can realise it, your legs begin to move, taking you to him. At first, it appears to you that he has yet to notice your presence. Until you notice the slight tremor in his deep inhale of breath once he senses that you are coming closer.

As you come to him, Hanbin lifts his head to look at you. The dim lighting around you didn’t allow you to see it before, yet as he subtly shifts on his seat, you finally notice that he had left his pants unbuttoned and unzipped before you had gotten here. 

Seeing the sight of his hard-on, partly covered by his pants while the tip is resting heavily on his stomach, it reminds you of the first night you saw him like this. Except that instead of having his hand wrapped around his hard girth, Hanbin keeps his hands to his side this time. Both are clenched tightly into the sofa, allowing you to see the tension rolling out of his body.

That tension seems to grow further when he opens his eyes, watching you coming closer to him with an intense gaze. 

“You’re here,” he says once you are standing right before him. His voice almost feels like an echo in the silence that surrounds you. Still sounds hoarse after the show. 

“I’m here,” you find yourself responding as if you are completely entranced by his gentle voice. You clear your throat, hoping that you can shake away the yearning in your voice before he ever notices it. “I heard you were expecting me. I came right away, assuming that you needed my assistance.” 

You trail your gaze back down on his lap, eyeing closely at the sight of his hard cock. It twitches against his stomach the more you give it attention. You lick your lips, wishing for a taste. Yet you manage to keep your voice steady when you tease him, “I didn’t expect that you would have started already without me.” 

A slow grin appears on his face. “There is no way I could start anything before you got here. I was waiting for you. But as you can see, I needed to do something about it when it was starting to hurt so bad.” 

He stops with a hiss. His body seems to react while he converses with you. “You’re the only one who can help me during times like this,” he says to you before dragging his tongue across his lips. 

There is a subtle disappointment flickering in his eyes when he adds, “Funny, I thought you would be as excited as I’ve been to finally have some time alone like this once the show ended.” 

The look that you see in his eyes and the disdain you hear in his voice catch you by surprise. You didn’t truly expect that he would be anticipating this as much as you have been. It makes you feel guilty for stalling time instead of coming to see him straight away just like you were supposed to. 

You had only lingered back to gather your wits before facing him. It was something that you felt needed to do, after the reactions he wrung out of you while he was performing. 

Even now, you still feel hot as you are picturing him dancing, rolling his body to the music as if he was making love to it. And your body is still reacting the same way. Heat rushes through you, centering at your core. Then you look down again at his throbbing shaft, and that heat shifts into something else. 

You take a deep breath and quickly move your eyes to his face to gain composure. “I was planning to come find you right away, but I had to make sure that everything was going as planned before we could go back on the road,” you try to explain yourself, even if you can tell that what you are giving him is nothing but a lame excuse. 

“Is that so? I guess I can’t blame you for making sure that you’re done with the job. I almost thought that you were avoiding me,” he jokes with a feeble chuckle, to which you quickly respond with,

“I would never do that.” You surprise both him and yourself with your immediate respond. You are mostly surprised at how much you meant it. “There’s no way I could avoid you. Not at times like this, at least.”

Hanbin falls silent, making you tense for a moment. Until he lets out a relieved sigh. “That’s a relief to hear. I’m glad,” he says. A subtle tremor rises from his chest just then, and you can tell that he is still brimming with adrenaline. 

The same adrenaline that he had gotten built up from the stage, and the one that you will have to tame down for him to be able to sleep during the night. 

The same way it has always been. Once the music ends, the overflowing adrenaline that still remains in his body becomes out of control. And it is your job to help him come down from it. 

Only that it would need a different kind of high to make it happen. 

After tonight’s show, you know for sure that this would be a challenging of a task for you to deal with. You can only hope that you won’t get devoured by this new raw energy of his.

“How can I help you this time?” you offer with a soft voice that is nearly drowned by the sound of your rapid heartbeat. 

“Can you—” he starts to say in a whisper, “can you strip out of your clothes this time? Please, I want to see you.” 

His words, despite sounding like an inconspicuous request, are still enough to make you feel the same rushing heat building back up in your body. The only thing that you aren’t completely sure of is whether this feeling comes merely from lust. 

Because the rapid flutters rising in your chest are telling you that there is something else that is present there. Something that is insisting on blooming within you despite all of your efforts to keep it away. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” you ask him, trying to make sure that he knows what he is asking of you. That he realises that complying with his request now would only mean that both of you are crossing a new line. 

“I wouldn’t be asking you this if I wasn’t,” he firmly says to you, and you can almost hear his voice growing deeper and heavy with his desire for a moment before he covers it all up to say, “but you don’t have to if you don’t want to go that far.” 

But you do want to. Even if it means you are crossing over boundaries, and things may escalate further than they usually would. 

Somehow, you had predicted that things may turn out differently this time. Unlike those previous nights, lending him your helping hands may not be enough for you to solve this problem of his. Not tonight.

You already felt it since the show earlier, when there was a new raw energy emerging from him throughout the show. As if he was letting loose every pent-up desire on stage, which brought up the rumbling energy now still emerging through his body as he is sitting there, waiting for you to make a decision. 

Fulfilling his request seems risky when you are already getting too deep. You were never supposed to get your emotions involved. Yet it still happened. It happened before you realised it, and now it appears to you that it is already too late for you to try and stop it. 

You have made up your mind to try and ignore your treacherous heart. To focus on doing your job until the final day of his tour. Except that the answer you give him next doesn’t seem to support your decision and your mind decides to take a new risk instead.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it,” you calmly say to him while doing your best not to show how much his words are affecting you. 

“It would be better that way, after all, since you nearly ruined my favourite blouse when you made a mess on me the last time we did this,” you simply add, as you try to convince yourself that there is really nothing else behind this. That you just want to make it more practical. 

Your comment draws a grin to his face, as if he is recalling that salacious night in his head right after you brought it up. The night when you slipped into his dressing room right after a show, using the limited time you had to fix his problem before you were supposed to drive him and the dancers to the hotel where everyone could rest for the night. 

Except that in the rush of him finding release, Hanbin made a complete mess out of himself, and you, when drops of his essence fell all over your blouse. It would have been impossible for people not to notice you coming out of his dressing room wearing nothing but his sweatshirt, had there been people still loitering around after the show was over. 

You had initially believed that your secret was safe with you when you managed to slip out unnoticed, until you remember Shawn’s sly grin earlier when he spoke to you about Hanbin. 

Once again, you try not to dwell on it too much and focus back on the present. Back to the man who is sitting right in front of you, with his chest and cock partly out, as he waits for you to make a move. 

Looking straight into his eyes, you reach down to grip the hem of your blouse and strip it off of your body. Your trousers come next, as you unbutton them at the waist and start pushing the fabric down your hips.

Hanbin’s eyes never waver from you while this is happening. The way his gaze is so focused on you seems to only urge you to continue putting on a show for him. So you begin to sway your hips from side to side as you slowly peel your pants off of you, before letting everything fall on the floor.

Stepping out of your shoes and the pile of your discarded clothes, you leave your undergarments on and stand right between his parted legs. His gaze follows you as you lower yourself to the floor, kneeling down right before him. 

“What do you need me to do next?” 

Hanbin drags his tongue across his lips as he considers his options. Having you kneeling in front of him, with your face hovering close to his crotch is already enough to taunt and challenge him. 

Tension rises between you as he makes you wait. 

The air feels cold on your mostly bare skin, yet your body feels hot as your anticipation increases with each passing second. Being in this position makes you feel completely exposed and helpless, as if you are submitting to his control. Slowly, your knees begin to feel sore from holding up your weight. The rising ache only brings forth the other sensations rising in your body, making you feel sensitive to the slightest movement he makes when he shifts in his seat. 

This wouldn’t be the first time that your body is showing these reactions. When you are made to feel your own carnal desire rising in your body at the thought of pleasing him and fulfilling his needs. 

And this was the reason why you took your sweet time coming to him. Because you couldn’t face him when you had a myriad of emotions rushing through your body. You are already made weak by your forbidden feelings, and it would only be made worse once he brings out your dark desire. 

Because you know that you wouldn’t be able to control yourself once that happens. 

A gentle touch on the top of your head brings your attention back to him before your mind gets too far and your insecurities take over. At the same time, his touch calms you down. 

The moment you look into his eyes, everything else seems to fade away. This is no longer a part of your job, and the world outside of this cabin no longer exists. It stops you from questioning your decision of ever getting yourself involved in this whole thing.

“Help me take these off. I can barely move a muscle since I got here,” he calmly claims with a soft chuckle, completely oblivious to the turmoil happening in your head. 

He probably doesn’t even know how his simple request is making your chest dip. 

You bite back the bashful smile that comes to your face. “Oh, poor you. Here, let me help,” you say to him with a tease, even if it falls short once your eyes return to his twitching erection.

You ignore the warm flutters rising in your chest as you reach up to grab a hold of his waistband. With a firm grip, you start pulling his pants and boxer pants together. Which doesn’t really take a lot of effort when they were barely holding on around his hips, already pushed down just enough for him to free his rigid cock from its restraint. Your fingers graze his skin as you keep pulling them down his hips, causing him to tremble under your touch. 

It gives you some self-satisfaction to be able to draw this kind of reaction from him. It feels good to see that you are not the only one getting affected by all the tension. So you tease him further, keeping light contact with his skin as you continue to bring his clothes down his legs. 

“There. Better?” you ask him with a low voice once the intrusive clothes of his are now gone. 

Seeing him sitting there completely naked leaves you breathless. Yet you find it hard to look away. His erection seems to grow harder under your perusing gaze. It causes the urge to touch him to grow stronger. 

“Touch it,” he suddenly says, as if he knows what you are thinking just by looking at your clenched hands. “Please,” he adds almost breathlessly, “I want to feel your hands on me.” 

Words fail you. While his words pull you like a spell. You reach out to touch him, starting from his thighs, where you trace his skin lightly with the tips of your fingers, drawing light shudders through his body. You continue until you finally reach the area between his legs when you finally stop.

His whole body tenses. Anticipation rolls through him as you move your hand closer. Light fingers start hovering lightly on his hard-on, with only a subtle brush or two grazing at his cock. Each light touch you give him only makes you want more. You want to feel his skin under your palm. To feel the familiar pulse coming from his cock the moment you touch him. Yet you resist the temptation just a bit longer. You want to tease him enough to the point that he feels like he is on the edge before you finally continue. 

And he doesn’t disappoint you when he soon reacts. With a soft whimper, Hanbin subtly pushes his hips up, as if trying to guide you into touching him further.

No longer able to deny your own desire, you finally give in and wrap a gentle hand around the base of his cock. 

At your touch, Hanbin reacts with a groan. His chest trembles as he tries to calm himself with a deep inhale of breath. His hips almost come up from the sofa when you start moving your hand, sliding your gentle grip up and down the length of his cock. 

You continue to move, keeping a steady pace and drawing more and more reactions from him. His rocking hips, his rumbling chest as he moans in pleasure, and his hands that are clenching tightly right by his side. 

You soon notice how quickly he loses control of himself once he starts thrusting back up into your hand. Seeing how badly he needs this release, you give a firm grip around his girth and slowly pick up your speed, moving your hand up and down his length until the sound of his laboured breathing fills the room. 

“Fuck, that’s it. That feels perfect,” he groans with his head tilted back. Shudders after shudders rush through him, and you keep up what you are doing now when he doesn’t make a move to stop you. 

Until you start to feel it coming. 

A pulse rises from his girth, pressing against your palm. and you take it as a cue that it is time for him to reach his climax. After giving him a few more strokes, you lean down and tease the head of his cock with your tongue. He lets out a deep groan once he feels your lips wrapped around the tip, covering him with your warm mouth. 

You continue the light strokes along the length of his shaft and reach down with your other hand, touching his balls with a light hand and start massaging him lightly as you begin licking your way up and down his member. As the sound of his moans increases rapidly, you finally take his whole cock into your mouth and slide all the way down, taking as much as you can until he is deep in your throat. 

You suck hard as you push him in and out of your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip each time you come up and tightening your throat when you come back down to swallow him. With your hand, you continue stroking the rest of his length that you cannot cover, until you feel his muscles tightening, his moans stuttering with heavy breathing, a sign that he is ready to explode. 

With one last stroke, and giving him one last hard suck, you swallow him deeply until it finally happens. His hands come up to the back of your head to keep you in place as he rocks his hips, thrusting into your mouth. It takes only a few thrusts before he finally comes into your mouth. His warm release falls on your tongue and the cavern of your mouth, with some drops shooting their way to the back of your throat. 

The last one makes you gargle, yet with his hands keeping you in place and your mouth still pumping his length, you make no move to pull away. You continue sucking, swallowing every last drop until the only thing that remains is the constant pulse of his blood pumping from the base of his cock to the tip that is still buried in your throat. 

You don’t stop, until he finally has enough and releases you, and you pull away so his cock pops out of your lips and falls back onto his stomach. 

You take a moment to catch your breath. But once your mind is cleared, you realise too late how hot your body feels now, triggered solely by the act of pleasing him. There is heat rising between your quivering legs, and you somehow know that if you reach down, you will find yourself growing wet. 

Hanbin’s hands return to you, touching your face gently so you can look at him again. 

His face seems flushed after his release, with a mix of afterglow and raw, unfulfilled hunger that refuses to go away. The glow in his eyes makes you grow curious at first, until your eyes trail down his heaving chest, stopping at his toned stomach to see his cock, still hard and mostly rigid even after its release. 

“As you can see, seems like I’m going to need a little more than that,” he says with a lack of regret shown in his voice. 

This situation makes you laugh. “A little?” you tease him, making him grin.

“Okay, maybe a lot,” he returns with an easy shrug, while your chest feels heavy at the thought of this continuing into something else. Something more risky. 

You realise that you are not feeling this way because you are unwilling, but because deep down, you know that you want this. You have wanted this for some time, ever since the pleasure which you gain from helping him becomes so addicting and your feelings become deeply involved. 

You can barely hear your own voice under the sound of your heartbeat when you ask him, “So what do you have in mind?” 

Hanbin opens his mouth, only to close it again. “I don’t want to make you do something that you don’t want to,” he says while gauging your reaction. Ever since you started spending close, nearly intimate moments like this with him, you have learned that he can be a bit perceptive when it comes to you. 

And it does a lot of things to your heart when he can easily tell what you need. How he always keeps a close eye on you to make sure to notice any discomfort coming from you. 

“No, that’s not what this is,” you answer him with a soft voice as your hands return to touch him again. You trace your fingers on the inner side of his thighs, stopping before you reach his cock when you finally admit to him, “I want this. I want to do all I can to help you.” 

And help myself satiate my needs, the little voice in your head whispers just as your eyes find him. You hate to admit how hopeful you are feeling as you wait, expecting him to express to you exactly what he needs. 

The same way you always make it happen. It makes things easier for you when he guides you through it. Even though it has never been easy for you to deal with the lingering aftermath.

“Good. Now come up here,” he breathlessly says. The need in his voice feels so intense that makes you feel entranced. Pulled by his demand as you carefully plant one knee and the other on either side of him to get over his lap. 

Hanbin has his hands on your waist, helping you up with a gentle hold. Which only makes it hard for you to remain calm when his touch makes your heart stutter. Butterfly wings fluttering wildly from deep within your chest just from that simple touch alone.  

“What’s wrong?” he asks you, as he notices how you become still under the touch of his hands. There is a deep sigh in his voice. It makes you wonder if he is getting affected by the contact at the same time. 

“Just a bit nervous,” you find yourself admitting to him before you can stop it. You quickly bite your tongue, stopping yourself from suddenly dumping your true feelings and trying to divert his attention. “I never realised how tight this sofa is until we’re both sitting on it together like this.” 

He softly chuckles. “I’ll take care of you,” he says to you gently as he wraps an arm around your waist to hold you up against his chest. “But if you’re not sure about this—” 

“I’m sure. Positively sure about this,” you quickly cut him off. The words just come out of you before you realise it happening. 

A smile grows on his face. One that makes you swoon and you simply melt into his hold. “That’s all I need to hear,” is all he has to say to you, before he surprises you by pulling you to him and pressing his lips on yours. 

You grow tense for a moment and he slows down, giving you a chance to process this over. Maybe push him away if you are feeling uncomfortable. 

Because he never kissed you on the lips before. Not like this. Not with this much passion and tenderness that makes you feel like your heart has grown wings and they are fluttering wildly in your chest. 

Slowly, you begin to relax, returning his kiss with the same gentleness that he is giving you. The kiss continues on, and on, until he suddenly traces your lips with his tongue, and you are made to feel as if you are melting into hot lava. 

Hanbin’s hand slides up your back. His touch feels distant as you have your mind muddled by his hot kiss. Though your body still arches into his touch, as if having a mind of its own. You run your hands through his messy hair, pulling at his locks while you are returning his kiss. 

A soft tug is felt against the skin on your back. The next thing you know, he is pulling your bra off of you. He pulls back from the kiss as he throws the bra away, while you let out a gasp when a cold breeze touches your skin. 

Hanbin licks his lips as he takes a good, intense look at your bare breasts. “All this time, I’ve always wondered—” 

The sound of the door at the front of the bus being opened cuts him off before he can finish what he is trying to say. Then the sound of low chatters and laughter follows. You immediately wrap your arms around yourself when you realise that some of the boys are already returning from dinner. 

Blood is drained from your face at the thought of being caught in the middle of this. “Oh no, I forgot to lock the doors.” 

“It’s okay, baby,” Hanbin hushes you with a soft murmur while pressing a finger on your lips. “They know that we need our privacy, so no one will be looking for us back here. Just remember to keep it quiet while they’re still out there.” 

Before you have the chance to ask what he means to say, he pulls your head down and presses his lips on yours. Once again, he silences your thoughts until the only thing that you can focus on is the present. 

To focus on him. 

For someone who is filled with tension, Hanbin’s kiss feels gentle. As if he wants to take it slow, to take his time while making sure that you won’t break. The soft touch he keeps on your waist makes you realise that he is giving you a chance to set the pace, to allow you to slip away if you want none of this. 

But there is no escaping this when have already given in, allowing yourself to submit completely to your true desire. It isn’t hard to let yourself go when you can feel from the way he is kissing you that Hanbin wants this as much as you do. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders as you allow yourself to take more. You meet his kiss by responding to it with the same fervour. You return every mesh of his lips on yours with your own, then you open your mouth to let him slip his tongue right in. 

Hanbin seizes his chance right away, deepening the kiss by pressing harder. His breathing grows heavier as he swirls his tongue around yours, to which you respond by sucking his tongue and pushing back, drawing a faint sound of a groan rumbling through his chest. 

You feel his hands moving right then, tracing your skin and rubbing at your curves, before finding your bottom cheeks. He covers your soft flesh with his palms and gives it a light squeeze, pushing you further into his chest and drawing a warm pulse deep inside your core when your covered pussy rubs against his cock. 

Feeling delirious from his touch and his hot kiss, you run your hands over the smooth muscles on his chest. The tips of your fingers slide down the thin layer of sweat that is covering his skin, while feeling him growing even hotter under your touch. 

All of a sudden, Hanbin pulls away from the kiss. He narrows his eyes when he looks at you, giving you a look filled with lust. 

His gaze moves away from your face as he moves his hands again. His eyes follow his touch as he traces his way up to your breasts. A tremor is visible in his inhale of breath as he gently presses his palms on your soft mounds, matching the subtle tremors that come awake through your body from his touch. 

As soon as his fingers touch your breasts, your nipples grow hard in an instant, and they seem to grow more sensitive the more he touches you that even a soft blow of the breeze makes you shiver. Once he takes notice of this, Hanbin bends his head lower and takes one of the pulsing buds between his lips. He gives a light suck, then brushes his tongue against it. You grit your teeth at the sensation that he is bringing out of you.

You almost forget where you are or the fact that you are no longer alone as Hanbin scrapes his teeth against your flesh, teasing you for a moment before biting to the point of pain. While you resist the urge to moan, your hand wanders down his chest, feeling his heartbeat stuttering under the tips of your fingers, then you continue your way down to his stomach. 

Within moments, your fingers brush the head of his cock. The need to touch him grows stronger then, and you trace your fingertips along his shaft. He moans against your breast, affected by your soft, yet indecent touch, and it pushes him to move further. 

His hand moves down your waist, pulling the waistband of your panties and tries to slip his fingers into the fabric to touch you. Yet your position above him isn’t allowing him to dive deeper to find the source of your pulsing heat. 

With a groan, Hanbin pulls away. He opens his mouth, and you begin to move back, expecting him to tell you to strip out of your panties. But he stops himself as he looks down, studying the offensive fabric for a brief moment before his hands slip under the waistband and he starts pulling.

“Wait, what are you—” You are just starting to question what he is up to when the ripping sound of the fabric fills the room. He doesn’t tear it into pieces like how you had often read it in those steamy romance novels, and he isn’t doing it so expertly either. His brows are furrowed deeply as he struggles with it and it takes him a while before he can get the job done. But as soon as he has the sides ripped up, he pulls the entire thing off of you and tosses it away while cursing out at it. 

“Are you crazy?” you ask him with your mouth gaping open, while he only exhales sharply. 

His brows are still furrowed when he answers you, “I didn’t want you to step down. Can you please wear something thinner next time so it’ll be easier for me to take it off of you?” 

“You can’t be serious?” you ask him with a baffled laugh. 

“You know I don’t joke about things like this,” he says with a sly grin. He may not seem so serious about it when he said it, but knowing him, you know that he truly meant it. “Now, where were we?” 

You are still baffled by his words that you fail to respond in time, and he takes the chance to move his hands down your hips. Hanbin has one hand holding you firmly at your hips as he dips the other between your legs, tracing the tips of his fingers up your inner thighs while gently guiding you to part your legs a bit wider. 

It feels like a struggle to get into position, but you somehow manage. Then he wastes no time to move his hand upward until his fingertips come brushing at your nether lips. 

Your hips lurch forward to meet his touch as he parts them and starts tracing your hot sex. With how sensitive and needy you have become, it doesn’t take much for him to make you start moaning and panting. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs while looking amused, but not surprised. He also seems mesmerised as he looks down at his fingers as he slips then between your folds and easily finds the slick mess that was formed while you were pleasuring him. 

He continues stroking your wet slit, drawing more and more of your arousal so that you can hear the slick sound he makes with his fingers. 

His touch draws a gasp out of your lips, and just when you are just beginning to feel high with pleasure, Hanbin bends down and starts sucking at your breast again, intensifying the sensation further that you simply lose all control of your body. 

Your hips begin to rock, moving back and forth against his touch and in tune with each stroke of his fingers on your slit. As he slides his fingers to find your clit, your moan grows a bit louder, and your movement becomes more erratic as you are drunk with carnal pleasure. 

Hanbin takes this chance to grow bold with his touch, as he gently slides a finger into your tight pussy. He feels you clenching around him tightly in response, and he begins pumping his digit in and out of you, drawing more shudders through your body with each stroke. 

While he works his fingers into your pussy, he uses his thumb to explore around it. He glides the wet digit over your clit and presses down while he pushes the rest of his fingers into your depth. 

You let out a breathy moan. Something that isn’t meant to happen, but the wanton sound comes out with your exhale of breath. And in your effort to try to hold back from erupting in pleasure, you simply fail to control yourself. 

Yet the sound you are making only draws an approving sound rumbling through his chest. He gives you a muffled moan as he keeps his mouth latched onto your breast possessively. 

Beyond the blissful fog filling your head, you can hear the faint sounds of footsteps walking away, bags being dropped, and then the distant voice saying something about leaving dinner behind and getting drinks, before you can hear the door of the bus closing. You can barely recognise those sounds, and it doesn’t register to you what it means at first, until you finally remember that you haven’t been alone on the bus for quite a while. 

Yet that they are gone, there is nothing left behind but silence. The sounds of your ragged breath and his soft groan are the only ones left to fill the room. 

Hanbin finally releases your breast with the sound of a pop coming out of his lips. His hand quickly comes to where his mouth has been, though it doesn’t mean that he is done working his mouth on your skin. From your breasts, he traces your skin with his hot lips—up to your collarbones, then lingering on the side of your neck. 

Your head falls back. A content sigh slips out of your lips from the way he is tasting you, kissing and nibbling around the spot beneath your ear which has always been quite sensitive.

“I need to be inside you,” he finally asks you with his lips grazing against your neck. He makes it hard for you to respond with his hot kisses pressing on your skin and his fingers moving in slow circles against your slit. 

The pleasure that he wrings out of your body feels maddening. It builds in a slow rise, but is still enough to make you feel high in bliss.

“I—” you sigh out an answer, only to continue with a series of moans as you rock your hips on his lap. Too lost in your wanton need, you grind against his fingers, needing something more. Something to get you to find your release.

“I know that you want it too. I can feel it whenever you try to hold back,” he whispers as he leans back, searching for your truth with his deep gaze looking straight into your eyes. Then he surprises you, making you wonder if you have always been so transparent when he asks, “Don’t you ever feel frustrated at night when you need something but can’t have it? Why deny yourself of pleasure when I’m right here?” 

You hate how right he is and you hate that you can’t even deny every word he just said to you. 

Every time you are done with your carnal favours, you always come out of it feeling unsettled. You have always found yourself struggling on your own in the aftermath, left to spend the long hours in those nights tossing and turning in bed. 

Alone and horny. 

Frustrated because you are left with a need that has yet to be fulfilled. 

Disappointed because you have no other way to find release other than your own touch. Which would never be sufficient to give you exactly what you need.

He pushes his fingers back into your pussy, drawing a low moan out of your lips which he covers with a kiss. “Let me return the favour, baby. You’ve done so much for me. Let me do this,” he murmurs against your lips before pressing a gentle kiss, giving you time to answer, while using every sinful touch he is giving you to push you into opening up. 

Though there is really no need for him to do it, when you have already made up your mind the moment you heard his offer the first time.   

Because how are you supposed to refuse when he keeps saying all the right things? And when you can clearly see how genuine he is being? Or when your body is humming with a wanton need that keeps begging to be released, and he keeps touching you at the right places which gives you carnal pleasure? 

“If you want to talk about returning favours,” you start to answer him with a sigh while running your fingers down his heaving chest, “you should know that I only take what I am owed.” 

Hanbin grins at this. He pulls back slowly while drawing his fingers out of your tight pussy, leaving behind a shuddering bliss in its wake. You watch him bring his fingers up to his lips, each one coated with your slick arousal, which he lowly licks with his tongue until he tastes every last drop. 

The sight of him drinking your essence captivates you so that your head spins, almost making you miss what he says to you next, “You don’t have to worry about that at all. I plan on paying everything that I owe you—” he says before tasting the last drop and bringing his hands back to your hips, “even if it takes all night long to pay my debt.” 

“Really?” you ask him, “I’ll keep that in mind, just don’t take back your words once we begin.” 

You reach down, grabbing his hard erection and finding it already grown back to its full girth while he was pleasing you. You give him a few strokes, drawing a gasp from his lips, before aligning the hard tip of his cock right at your entrance. 

The urge to sit down on his hard-on feels so strong. Yet you fight it just a bit longer. You have known that you have grown awfully wet down below, and there is no doubt a mess has been created there from his sinful touches. You can hear the sound of your slick arousal echoing in the room as you guide the tip of his cock back and forth against your slit, coating him with your essence. 

You continue this until you are ready. Until you feel him pushing his hips upward slightly to press his cock against your pussy. With a shudder, you put his cock right back at your entrance and slowly start lowering yourself on him. The sound of his deep moan erupts as you slowly sink down the length of his cock, stopping briefly when there is some restraint from your pulsing walls, keeping you from taking him deeper. 

“Fuck, so tight—” he groans deeply, while you can only respond back with a soft mewl. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“Mm,” is the only thing that you can give him when words fail you. Spasm after spasm of pleasure rocks through you even when you are both silent, remaining in a standstill while your bodies are slowly adjusting to one another. 

“We need to move, baby. You’re sucking me and we’re barely starting.” 

It feels tight, and your legs are trembling so much that it almost makes it hard for you to move. Even pushing yourself up and down his length seems like an effort. 

But once the series of pulses begins to wane down, you finally gather enough will to start moving. After moving slightly back and forth, nearly rocking against him, you manage to take more of him. Taking him inch by delicate inch until he is completely embedded inside your slick heat. 

With a shuddering moan, you slump forward against his chest. Because the pleasure you are feeling with him buried deep inside you is too much. 

He makes you feel full. His girth seems to be the perfect fit inside you. He also makes you feel a myriad of sensations that you have never felt before even just by filling you up like this. 

Perhaps it has been too long since you have gotten laid that your body responds to him so easily. It has been hard for you to hook up with anyone while you are attached to this job, and while you dedicated your long hours to fulfil his needs. 

Hanbin notices the way your body is taking its time to adjust to the sensation rushing through you. Instead of rushing through things, he tightens his hold on your waist to keep you close, holding you up while you let the shudders pass. 

Hot kisses are pressed on your neck, chin, and then your face, as Hanbin tries to soothe your body to relax against him and help you embrace the pleasure. It takes a moment, but you finally feel the tension in your body lessening in his hold. 

That is when you start moving. 

Starting with tentative rocking at first, before you slowly start gaining more and more confidence just as the rush of pleasure continues to build up and take over. Scooting forward and back, you rub yourself against his length. Then you gather enough strength on your legs and begin moving up and down his length, causing his cock to retreat and reenter you with each move. 

Your carnal desire quickly takes over control, and your body continues to move naturally in a steady rocking. He raises his hands and begins caressing your breasts, using the rhythm of your rocking hips to gently knead your soft flesh. 

“That feels—good,” you moan softly, mewling while arching your chest into him so you can press your breasts into his palms. He takes this chance to pinch your nipples, playing with them by rubbing and rolling them between his thumbs and forefinger, until he draws an intense wave of pleasure rushing throughout your body. 

Your rocking quickens, and with the way you are arching into him, you are inadvertently grinding your clit against his pubic bone, drawing more and more of those delicate shivers of pleasure surging inside you. They rise through your chest and neck, and once your legs begin to quiver harder, you start losing balance and the rocking of your hips grows unsteady. 

His hands come down to your hips, giving you a firm hold to keep you from flailing and falling back from the sofa. Humming softly, Hanbin becomes aware of the way you are shaking on top of him. He gives you a moment to ride your pleasure before he takes over and starts pumping his cock into you. 

“I...fucking…knew it,” he groans, saying each word between each thrust he is giving you. He slams harder and harder, closing his eyes as he takes this moment to savour the pleasure that he is feeling from being inside you.

“I’ve pictured this so many times, and it feels way better than I imagined it would,” you hear him say with ragged breaths. Your hips buck in surprise, but he tightens his grip on your hips and increases the pace of his fucking, pushing all thoughts, any word you wanted to say to him, out the window. 

Your fingers sink deeper into his bare shoulders as you hold on tightly to him through the rough fucking he is giving you. The pleasure feels so intense. But the sudden tightness in your chest has nothing to do with the sparks rising right where you are joined, when your heart seems to swell at his admission.

To even think that he has been thinking of you this way, for wanting this same thing as you do for a long time, seems unfathomable. 

But you cannot say that you had never suspected it before. You still remember faintly hearing him say your name on that first night you caught him pleasing himself, even if you had suppressed this memory to the back of your mind in your denial. Though the rest of the time you saw the signs had been real, when he kept his eyes open each time you assisted him with his needs, refusing to look away from you as he embraced his release. 

You open your eyes just as he does the same. The look you see coming out of his gaze makes your heart lodged higher in your chest. Because beyond the lust, beyond the desire, you see deep longing looking back at you, returning every yearning that you feel for him as he continues to rock his hips in rapid successions. 

Hanbin pulls your head down until your mouths are joined. He drinks in the sounds of your moans with a deep kiss. Your breasts bounce with each hard thrust he keeps giving you. Each hard tip keeps rubbing against his chest, drawing more wicked sensations through your body which pushes you closer towards your climax. 

Right before you can reach it, Hanbin suddenly stops. He trembles as he holds back from his own release, starting from his legs that are locked under your weight to his chest which heaves with deep, ragged breaths. 

You open your mouth to protest and whine, but stop yourself when you look into his eyes. You can see his intention looking back at you and instantly know that this is not over yet. 

He may have denied both of you from your final release, but he is not done with you yet. 

Keeping his hands on your hips, he gives you a firm hold as he rolls your bodies together, flipping your positions until you are laid right beneath him. 

He lifts your legs in the air, sending you sinking into the sofa as he places your legs on his shoulders. In a blink of an eye, he slides his cock back into you, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips when he pushes in with one firm thrust, drawing a rapid set of spasms from your walls pressing around him. As you look up to him, his eyes are dark with lust, clear desire written all over his face when he begins rocking, thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace. 

“Hanbin—!” you hiss out his name as he continues fucking you to oblivion. 

Yet hearing you calling out his name seems to work like a spell. It draws him to move quicker, pumping deeper inside you, until all that you can feel is his hardness pushing in and filling you up completely to the brim. 

Allowing himself to get lost in his carnal desire, he no longer cares about the noises that he draws out from both of you while he chases for his release. It feels so intense, so hot, so carnal, that you almost feel like you are melting into the sofa while your whole body trembles violently under each of his hard thrusts. 

Being in this position, you are made helpless. With your body being folded under his weight, it makes you feel off-balanced. There is no escape as he drives into you, pushing you into the height of bliss. 

But you refuse to stay still, wanting to give back and push you both further and faster to find climax. Reaching up, you hold on tightly to his biceps. Keeping a steady leverage there as you rock your hips back up, returning every thrust he is giving you with your own push. 

You scream out his name at how good it feels. The pleasure that feels like ecstasy rolling through your body, shooting straight back up to his rocking hips until you feel him shuddering above you. 

“That feels so good. I’m close, baby,” he groans, just as you feel the first wave of your climax building rapidly inside you. 

“Please, Hanbin. I’m also close,” you moan deeply, almost breathless with the intensity of your pleasure taking over your body. “I’m going to come.” 

He reaches down between your rocking bodies without missing a single thrust. His fingers come down right at where you are joined. With a trembling groan, he finds your clit and gives it a pinch. 

Pain and pleasure spark through your body. Your muscles grow tight, clenching around him, before your orgasm comes crashing through your body, one intense spasm to another. Hanbin cups the nape of your neck as he continues to pump into you hard and fast, fucking you through your orgasm until it feels like it will never end. 

“Fuck—you’re so tight, baby,” he grunts. “You’re gripping at me.” 

His voice fades in and out as your orgasm rolls through you. Once again, your pussy clenches tightly around him, and your final orgasm finally pushes him through his own. He comes with a shout, and you feel him twitching inside you before he starts shooting his warm release inside you. His slow rocking carries on with pulse after pulse of his climax until he fills you up with the very last drop of cum. 

Exhausted and spent, Hanbin collapsed on top of you, completely out of breath. While you no longer have the energy to push him away. He waits until all the spasms growing in your bodies start to calm down when he finally pulls out of you. 

While you fall helplessly on the sofa, breathless and high in your blissful fog, Hanbin moves away to grab a clean paper towel before returning to you. 

He takes his time taking care of you, gently cleaning you off from the mess that has been created from your intense lovemaking. Each delicate brush on your skin draws light sparks from your body that still feels sensitive to the touch. Slowly, he draws your senses back alive, yet his soothing touches help you relax with a content sigh. 

Once he is done, Hanbin rolls you over to face him as he falls right beside you on the plush sofa.

As you lie there by his side, in a post-orgasmic bliss and limbs that feel too heavy for you to move, your mind begins to race. There is no stopping it when you start wondering, questioning about what will happen next. You have crossed boundaries as his personal aid, and what you had taken as your personal responsibility to take care of him has now become something else. 

“That was—” you try to speak once you find your voice again. Yet no words come out of you when you have no idea what to say to him. 

“Amazing? Sensational?” he teases you while wiggling his eyebrows. 

You laugh, shaking your head even when deep down, you cannot really deny it. It was amazing. Shocking and fully insane, may also be the perfect way to describe it.

As you lie down beside him in the tight space of the plush sofa bed, you look at his face closely, still unable to believe that what just happened was real. 

“I mean, whatever works. As long as you enjoyed it,” you find yourself saying this to him as you try to process this moment. 

Because everything feels like a dream. 

Except what remains from your orgasm still lingers like a murmur through your entire body, showing you how real everything was. There is the slickness you still feel oozing out of you when you shift closer to him. Not to mention the soreness between your legs that is still present.

Even lying down side by side with him like this doesn’t feel real at all. You may have spent the past few weeks flirting, teasing, and even satisfying each other. Yet post-coital intimacy has never been a thing to share between you. 

Never before tonight. 

“Me? What about you? I thought I was paying my debts to you?” he asks you with a tease, though he seems genuinely curious to hear your answer. 

“I—” you try to speak, feeling a tug at your heartstrings knowing that he cares. “I thoroughly enjoyed it.” Your smile grows when you see him smiling at your answer. “Let’s just say that it was a good start to pay back what I’m owed.” 

Hearing this, Hanbin laughs. 

He surprises you once again when he pulls you to his chest and gives you a kiss, as if it is the most normal thing for him to do. And you return his kiss as easily as though you are two regular lovers. As if this isn’t the first time you are being this close. To be this intimate, aside from the special arrangement that you have made with each other. 

“Can we—” he says breathlessly as he breaks away from the kiss. “Can we continue like this for a while, just until this tour is over?” 

Just like that, any hope that had a chance to bloom in your chest is depleted. Disappointment washes through you for thinking that this actually has an expiration date. Just when you finally have the courage to admit your true feelings. 

But then your spirit is quickly lifted when Hanbin continues to add, “Once we’re done with this tour and later when we’re back home, let’s talk about this further. That is, only if you want to. I just don’t want you to think that I’m only taking advantage of you and forget everything once we’re back.” 

This time, when you feel that unsolicited hope brewing in your chest again, you do nothing to suppress it or hold it in. You don’t even try to deny it. There is no point in denying it now, after all. As it will always be there, no matter what you do to ignore it. 

And now that the final line has been crossed, you know that there is no turning back. 

“Sure, I’d like that,” you whisper to him with a smile, and with a genuine trust knowing that Hanbin always keeps his words to you.

Just like how he keeps his words about spending the entire night making up to you for all the favours that you are owed. 

Hours later, as the bus continues its journey towards its next destination, both you and Hanbin are still huddled up in the back cabin. The room has grown hot, and the passion that you share has yet to come down. 

A soft moan escapes you when he rocks his hips, pumping deeper into you in a series of rapid thrusts, and he quickly presses a finger on your lips to stop you from making too much noise. “Keep your voice down, baby. You’ll wake everyone,” he urgently whispers. 

Being in your current position, with your folded knees sinking deeper into the sofa and your hands barely able to hold your upper body up against his relentless pounding coming from behind, it really is becoming impossible for you to hold back. “I can’t,” you whisper to him between your strained moans. “It’s too much.” 

After a series of orgasms that he has been giving you all night, with only a brief reprieve taken when you took a break to have dinner—specially delivered to you by Shawn and the dancers while you were both busy in the back—it really is becoming a bit too much. 

Your body has taken a lot of his rough lovemaking that a single thrust is enough to ignite the sparks within you. Your skin has grown too warm, your pussy is tender, and your muscles are getting too sore to keep you up. 

“I know, I’m so sorry. Just a little bit more, okay?” he pleads with you as he continues thrusting in and out of you, slowly quickening his pace as he feels the spasms of your climax rising yet again, with your muscles pressing around his cock in a possessive grip. 

You bend forward and lift your hips higher to take everything that he is giving you. While his words echo through your mind as you embrace the building pleasure, reminding you of the promise that he gave to you earlier. 

Until this tour is over. 

Just one more show. 

You hold on to those words to gain strength. But after what you are experiencing tonight, and after witnessing the adrenaline rush that went through him after tonight’s show, the final arrangement waiting for you at the end of this tour no longer seems to be an easy fix. 

“I doubt that it’ll be anything ‘little’ when it comes to you,” you retort back to him with a moan, “you’re insatiable.” 

Hanbin lets out a soft chuckle as he presses a kiss on your bare shoulder. “It wasn’t my fault this time. You started it first.” 

You hide your smile at his words. Because he was right, after all.

After your tryst continued for a while and you were lying on his side, tracing the lines on his bare chest, the memory of his alluring dance came through your mind. It took you back to the moment you were made to feel hot from the sight of him rocking his hips, and how his sweat-covered chest kept glowing under the stage lights while he was dancing, keeping you under his spell.

That memory gave you the urge to start touching him. Starting with the touch of your fingers tracing down his skin, before you replaced your naughty hands with your lips when you traced the lines on his torso with your kisses. And you kept going lower, and lower, reaching the source of his arousal, until he finally snapped. 

“Guilty as charged,” you admit to him with a deep moan just as he pushes deep into you. “I’ll take all the responsibility for this one.” 

“Good. Because I’m not going easy with you this time,” he says, as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster, while you can only take everything until you are quickly pushed towards the precipice of your climax. 

He makes you bite your ripped panties as he keeps pounding into you, stopping any sounds that may come out through your lips as you embrace your climax. Making sure that your voice won’t wake the boys who are sleeping soundly in their personal bunk beds while the bus continues to drive through the night towards its final destination. 

⤑ Author’s Note | This was supposed to be posted on his birthday, but as always, things don’t always go as planned when it comes to scheduling in my case. I’m glad that I still got to finish this because the idea had been stuck in my head since I’ve been following B.I’s journey through his European tour this year, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it if I didn’t write it down right away. I hope you enjoyed this thrilling experience. Please leave kudos/likes, comments, and share/reblog it if you liked what you read. Any other form of feedback is also welcomed. Thank you for reading!

— © 2023 @yoonia (Tomoe Dia), all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, and unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed. | First publication & writing on Nov 10th, 2023

#k-vanity #b.i smut #kim hanbin smut #hanbin smut #b.i x reader #hanbin scenarios #b.i scenarios #hanbin x reader #b.i fanfic #kim hanbin scenarios #kim hanbin x reader #b.i fluff #kim hanbin fanfic #hanbin fanfic #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #khh fanfic #khh scenario #khh smut #kpop x reader

[iliketangerines]

okay so imagine…

lord raiden’s daughter in a secret relationship with Mk11 Shang Tsung… and it only gets found out cuz she’s pregnant

secrets and the moon

a/n: old man shang tsung is also pretty good, definitely ooc bc we only know him in the context of power-hungry, but idk i want soft shang tsung

pairing: shang tsung x afab!reader

warnings: none :)

you sit on your balcony, staring into the crescent moon as you hum along to the tune of the crickets singing outside

you trace the edges of the wooden balcony, sighing as you watch the world pass by you in a blur

there’s no much to do about the academy, at least not anymore, not with having lived at the academy for centuries now

and not with the restrictions your dad puts on you

you still remember meeting him, your mother had kept you hidden away from the world and society, telling you that you would not be accepted

you never really understood why until you snuck out one night and traveled to the nearby village, where the kids threw rocks at you, calling your eyes ghostly

then your mother had fallen ill shortly after, and she brought you to a high mountain to meet your father, Lord Raiden, who had the same ghostly eyes that you did

he wasn’t sure what to do with you, but he saw the state of your mother and the fearful expression on your face as your mother hacked up blood and took you both in

he made sure your mother was treated like a goddess, with food, silken sheets, maids on hand and foot until she passed away shortly after

your father did try his best to raise you, but his experience with rearing the existence of humanity didn’t compare with trying to deal with an unruly teenager whose rebellious stage lasted for a few decades

you already explored every nook and cranny of this palace and trained in every martial arts your father could think to train you in

and yet, every so often, you would cough up blood and your father would sequester you to your room, shielding you from the cruelty of the world

you had inherited whatever illness your mother had, but your godly status allowed you to survive through the pain but didn’t dampen any of it

it was an unfortunate situation

you sigh and sit up on the edge of the railing, swinging your legs over the open air as you wait for your paramour to show up

you knew it wasn’t a good idea, a terrible idea even, but he was the only thing that gave you a semblance of excitement in this dreadful place

you hear a rustle in the bush below, and you peer down and find Shang Tsung staring up at you, waving with that signature smirk on his face

you look behind you, making sure your door was locked and the pillows were shoved into the sheets, before you hop down the balcony and land with a soft thud

he smiles at you, and you draw him in for a hug, letting yourself sink into the feeling of familiarity and warmth as he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your neck

you pull away with a wide smile and drag him off to explore the night world, the only time you really had any freedom

you tell him about your uneventful day, all the ridiculous things you tried to keep yourself entertained, and Shang Tsung hums along, staring at you underneath the moon

once you quiet down and flop down onto the field, surrounded by flowers, Shang Tsung sits next to you and tells you about his day

you nod along as he tells you about his stories, and you tuck a piece of hair behind his ear when he becomes too enraptured with his own story

he glances at you, eyes soft and warm as he brings you into his lap, cupping the back of your neck to kiss you sweetly

you sigh into the kiss, melting into his kiss as his hands hold onto the small of  your back, keeping you secure against him

one of his hands travel up to cradle the back of your head, and your hand slides up to cup Shang Tsung’s face

he kisses you desperately as always, as if scared you’ll be ripped apart from him, and he never wants to let you go

never in his centuries of living had he ever been so enraptured by anything, even in his chase for evermore souls to consolidate his power

you were…so far apart and so close to everything he chased after, and he found himself falling for you so much faster than he thought he ever could

your were strong but still soft, untouched by the spoils and horrors of war and ever-desperate grabs for power, so different from his entire life of struggle

it’s something he craves, something he hungers over and would slave over if he could just a bit of your sweetness all to himself

you pull back and lay your head into his chest as he pets your hair, combing through the strands with his fingers as he tells you about the stars and the moon

he often tells you your eyes remind him of the moon, glowing bright and lighting the way for those lost in the night

on those nights when he visits you when you’re bedridden, they glow ever so softer, weaker, and it scares him that you would become mortal

that he would outlive you and have nothing but the wisps of your memory as you fade from time and he lives on, alone

but you’re here, alive and well and still godly

you two fall asleep in the field of flowers, surrounded by the warmth of the night and the embrace of sweetness

you wake up a the sunlight hits you, and Shang Tsung presses a kiss to your forehead before you two get up and walk back to the base

you don’t feel so right, hadn’t been feeling quite right for the past few weeks, but you had figured it was just your sickness flaring up

but this was different, you stop as you feel your stomach lurch, and you fall down to your knees as you throw up acid

Shang Tsung kneels down, pulling your hair to the side as you heave and gasp and cry as your stomach empties itself

you feel faint, light-headed and almost fall down to the side if it weren’t for Shang Tsung holding you up

you tell him you’re fine, just another bout, but you throw up again, dry-heaving as you struggle to breathe

Shang Tsung feels fear pool in the bottom of his stomach, feels his hands grow cold and clammy as you continue to struggle to breathe

he picks you up the second you’re done, hurrying through the woods and making sure none of the branches hit you as he tries to make his way back to the base as fast as possible

you protest, weakly hitting his chest as your face pales, telling him that your father cannot find out about you two

Shang Tsung silences you, telling you that your health comes first, that he will deal with the wrath of your father if need be

he shows up at the entrance of the academy and barges in through the doors, and the monks immediately take up a defensive stance, glaring at the sight of you sickly and weak in his arms

Raiden bursts through the lightning and nearly goes to kill Shang Tsung until he sees you in his arms

immediately, his face drops, and his entire posture tenses as he roars at Shang Tsung to return you, to give back his child

Shang Tsung ignores his threats and growls of warning, and he tells you you’ve fallen ill, that you keep throwing up and it isn’t your usual bouts of sickness

Raiden raises his eyes in surprise when Shang Tsung comes forward and lays you gently on the ground, tucking your hair behind your ears

you hold onto his hand stubbornly, refusing to let go and telling him he has to come with you, to be with you, please, you need him right now

Shang Tsung looks up to Raiden, and your father tsks but tells the monks to lower their weapon and their guard and has a healer come and check you out

Shang Tsung carries you to the medicine ward, and he’s there as the healer assesses you and asks you the questions you’ve become used to

your father stands off to the side, jaw clenched and fists crackling with electricity, but Shang Tsung does nothing, just holds your hand as the healer fusses over you

they press down on your stomach, check your temperature, do a few spiritual tests on you before they hum and finger the beads in their hands

they tell you you’re pregnant, about a few months in, and your jaw drops open

you can hear the crackles of electricity in the room, and you glance over to your father, looking like he’s about to have a heart attack and also kill Shang Tsung at the same time

you look to Shang Tsung, and he’s staring down at your stomach in wonder, one hand going down to caress your stomach gently, eyes wide and filled with stars

he asks in a quiet voice that he’s going to be a father? and the healer nods at him, leaving the room to give your family some privacy

you father walks over to you, pushing away Shang Tsung, spewing obscenities at him as electricity forms in his hands, ready to kill Shang Tsung right here and now

you grab onto your father’s arms and tell him to back up, that Shang Tsung is the father to your child and you will not have your child not have both parents like you

the comment seems to make your father soften, calm down a bit as he remembers how you, his own blood and family, were scared of him because he had never been present in your life

he calms down and exits the room, needing to take a few deep breaths and calm down before he could proceed, and it leaves you and Shang Tsung alone

Shang Tsung stares at you in wonder, caressing your stomach as the future fills his head

never had he thought he would have a family, a child to care for, someone to raise and and to love

he looks up at you and kisses you, hoping that the action is enough to tell you about how much he loves you, how much he appreciates you, that he would do anything for you

you seem to understand what he’s trying to convey, and you bring him in even closer as you kiss

it might not have been conventional, but you were in love with Shang Tsung, tied to him heart and soul, and he was just the same, his soul yours to own

#tangerine writes #tangerine answers #mortal kombat #mk #mortal kombat 11 #mk11 #mortal kombat fluff #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #mk x you #mk x y/n #shang tsung #shang tsung mk11 #mk11 shang tsung #shang tsung x reader #shang tsung x you #shang tsung x y/n

[kqyslyho3]

Beneath Decorum

Warnings - || Smut Dom!Matt,Rockstar!Matt,Rockstar!Y/n ||

Other Blogs - || @dracomalfoyhasmyheart ||

As the lead singer of the popular rock band Beneath Decorum, I am no stranger to the attention and admiration of fans. But tonight, on the last day of our tour in Miami, the energy from the crowd was electric. And as I took the stage in my super slutty outfit, my heart quickened with excitement. Matthew Sturniolo, my longtime friend and bandmate, looked at me with a mixture of pride and jealousy. He had always harbored feelings for me, but I had always shrugged it off as a crush. Chris grinned and gave me a playful wink before joining Matt on the guitar. Nick took his place behind the drums. As I began to sing, I could feel the eyes of every person in the audience on me. And as the music flowed through my veins, I couldn't help but dance, swaying my hips and teasing the crowd. I could sense the tension in Matt's body, his jaw clenched as he looked on. It wasn't until I caught a glimpse of him locking eyes with one of our female fans in the front row that I knew exactly what was going on inside his head. The jealousy that had been boiling within him finally reached its boiling point. And as the show came to an end and we left the stage, Matt pulled me aside, his grip tight on my arm.

'What the hell was that all about?' he growled, his blue eyes burning into mine. 'What are you talking about?' I asked, trying to play dumb. 'That outfit, the dancing, the way those guys were flirting with you,' he gritted out. 'Oh please, Matt. It's just a show,' I said, trying to brush it off. 'Is it? Or do you like the attention a little too much?' he challenged, his tone harsh. 'What's your problem? You've never had an issue with my outfits or stage presence before,' I said, my own temper flaring. 'I've never had to see you flaunt yourself in front of other guys like that,' he spat, his jealousy and possessiveness hitting an all-time high. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed my hand and dragged me to our dressing room, slamming the door shut behind him. I tried to protest, but he silenced me with a searing kiss that left me breathless. 'Don't ever do that again,' he growled against my lips before grabbing me by the waist and pushing me against the wall. I could feel his hardness pressing against me as his hands roamed over my body, his fingers gripping my hips possessively. With a low growl, he buried his face in my neck, kissing and nipping at my skin, leaving his mark on me. My hands instinctively went to his hair, tugging on it as his lips trailed down to my collarbone.

'Matthew,' I moaned, my body already craving his touch. He didn't bother replying, instead, he pulled me away from the wall and threw me onto the couch in the dressing room. I landed with a thud, but before I could even complain, he was on top of me, devouring my mouth with a newfound intensity. I could feel his hands ripping off my clothes, exposing my skin to the cool air. 'God, you're so fucking beautiful,' he breathed, his gaze filled with a raw desire that sent shivers down my spine. In a matter of minutes, we were both completely naked, our bodies glistening with sweat as we ravaged each other. His lips were everywhere, on my neck, my breasts, my stomach, his hands exploring every inch of my body. I could feel the hunger in his kisses, the urgency in his touches, and it only made me want more. My own need for him was overwhelming, and I could feel myself getting wetter with every caress. With a moan, he finally plunged two fingers inside me, making me writhe beneath him. 'Fuck, Matt,' I cried out, my back arching off the couch as he pumped his fingers in and out of me. But he wasn't done yet. Without warning, he pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his cock, thrusting into me with an incredible force that took my breath away. I could feel him hitting all the right spots, drawing out moans and cries of pleasure from my lips. 'Whose pussy is this?' he groaned, his hands gripping my hips tightly as he pounded into me. 'Yours, always yours,' I gasped out, my body trembling with pleasure. With each thrust, he claimed me as his, leaving me marked with his love and desire. And as our bodies moved in perfect sync, the pleasure built within me, bringing me to the edge. With a loud cry, I came undone, my body shaking as my walls clenched around him, milking him for everything he had. But he wasn't finished yet. Ignoring my cries for mercy, he continued to thrust into me, his own release close. And with one final, powerful thrust, he came, filling me up. As we both collapsed on the couch, our bodies intertwined and dripping with sweat, I couldn't help but smile at the thought of being able to bring Matt to his knees with just a little bit of flirting and dancing.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #smut #mamas kink #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo dom #matt sturniolo x reader #ma kink #chris sturniolo smut #chris smut #chris fic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt s #matt fanfic #matt #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #kqyslyho3 #kqysly speaks #kqysly creations #kqysly notes #Smut Dom!Matt #Rockstar!Matt #Rockstar!Y/n

[bopbopstyles]

I JUST WANT A LOVER PT.2

RATING: R/smut (graphic sex, nipple play, lil holding of wrists above head)

WORD COUNT: 4.3k (and like 90% smut just for y'all b/c i couldn't stop myself i'm a slut <3 also i did not edit this sorry not sorry)

CATEGORIES: one night stand!harry

PT. 1 | MASTERLIST | TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK

a/n: SURPRISE BITCHES!!!!!! y'all loved pt1 so much that i just couldn't help myself. perhaps not my finest work, but banged this out in like two hours for you all. luv u bunches, hope this is the happy ending you wanted (plus 95% smut including some JUICY lil thangs) XOXO thank you so much for the support of IJWAL — missed y'all <3

“I have a secret.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, slotting his lower body between yours. You could feel his cock brush against your center deliciously, and it’s like it hadn’t been inside you less than twelve hours ago from the way your body lit up. “I might tell you, but only if you’re really, really nice to me.” 

He nosed at your forehead with his nose, tilting your head back slightly so he could look directly into your eyes. You loved when guys could match you with banter, could be all fun and playful after a hookup. Otherwise it was just awkward. So, you played along. “Nice, hmm?” You said, lifting your hands from their spot on the sheets and trailing your fingertips up his sides. 

The way Harry’s body tensed immediately caught your eye, and you loved it. The fact that you had the same effect on him that he had on you did wonders for your self esteem, and encouraged the playful fire burning in your stomach. 

“Wonder how I could be nice to you,” you teased, splaying your fingers across his torso and and pressing gently into the skin, watching his abdomen muscles ripple under your pressure. 

“I could think of a few ways,” he breathed out, eyes darting all over your face. 

or

It's the morning after and they're both really into each other (still)

In the morning, you learned, Harry was far too chipper. You were usually a gremlin until you’d had at least one cup of coffee, at which point you reached everyone’s-favorite-neighborhood-grump status, and after at least two hours of being awake you were usually finally able to have a conversation without grimacing repeatedly at how much you didn’t want to speaking. 

So therefore, waking up to find Harry stretched out next to you scrolling TikTok with a smile on his face was not quite your favorite start to the morning. At least, on paper. But for some reason, when he looked over and smiled at you, you couldn’t help but think you might reach your nice stage a little faster this morning. 

“Morning,” Harry said, locking his phone and placing it on his bedside table. “Sleep okay?”

You pushed your hair out of your face and sat up, scooting backward until your back hit his headboard. “Apart from you being the hottest human known to man and roasting the whole night, yeah.”

He grinned at you. “Hottest, eh?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I meant temperature-wise, you idiot.”

Harry chuckled and reached over to the bedside table, grabbing a glass of water. “Here, got this for ya.” He passed it to you, fingers brushing yours as you took the glass from his grip. Even though the two of you had sex last night, you couldn’t help but notice how warm and soft his hands were, and how they sent a shiver ripping down your body. 

“Thank you,” you told him, glancing around the room. Last night you’d only seen in the partial darkness, the only light while you’d been having sex coming in from the street—which was enough to see Harry in all of his glory, but not enough to make out the intricate details of his room. 

It was covered in art, you quickly noticed. Not framed, valuable, and hung art, but sheets of drafting paper with sketches on them, little napkins with drawings, and smaller watercolors. You could tell that there was a recurring style of drawing and painting across the papers, but not necessarily all the same—they could’ve been done by multiple people. In the corner was a record player, an old and nice one, you thought, and a set of speakers with too many records to fit in the storage unit he had. They were in stacks on the ground next to the turntable, spines out so you could see the name of the record. That, you thought, tracked with what he’d told you—that he was a musician and worked in a record store. 

At the end of the bed was his dresser, with the hem of shirts poking out from drawers and the top scattered with various items. Nail polish, a dish of tons of vintage rings, a couple of necklaces hanging from pins in the wall. A couple bottles of cologne, and a stack of books with a photo frame on top. Above the dresser was a circular mirror, and in it you could see yourself and Harry perfectly. In fact, a little too perfectly—your hair was sticking in all directions after having gotten wet in the shower and there was a rim of black from old mascara under your eyes you’d been too lazy to scrub off last night. Harry, on the other hand, looked perfect with his five o’clock shadow and pink lips begging to be kissed, hair tousled like it was meant to be like that. 

You ignored your reflections, enjoying your perusal of his room, and turned to see his desk on the other wall of the room, where two large windows by New York City standards stood, letting in morning light through heavy curtains. There were papers all over the desk, black ink scribbles scattered across them, and a stack of black leather notebooks in the corner next to a cup of black pens (all the same kind, he must have a type). A computer sat on the desk, covered by paper, as well as a very fun mushroom lamp that make you smile. 

“So?” You turned back to Harry, confused. “What’s your assessment?”

“Of what?”

“My room you were obviously just investigating.”

Oh. He had been watching you explore his space. “That you’re very artistic?”

He smiled, and then replied with a nod. “That’s true.”

“Are those drawings all yours?”

He shook his head. “A lot of them are my sister’s. She’s older, and sends them to me in a care package once a month. Her way of showing me the world around her. Been doing it since she was at university, so what’s up in a mixture of stuff from years. The others are mine.”

It was sweet, you thought, how close he seemed to be with his sister. “Is she an artist?”

“Nah, she’s teaching history. Unlike me, she decided that it was better to keep her artistic passions just for herself. She told me once that she didn’t believe in that whole idea that if you do something you love for your job you never work a day in your life. She told me’ It’s still work at the end of the day,’ so she just does it in her free time. Kind of jealous she can do that.”

You rotated slightly onto your side, able to look at him better “You can’t?”

“It’s funny, for a long time I never thought I’d do anything related to music. But then it was like it kept begging me to try it out. For a while I thought that my friends were playing a joke on me because every pub night I went to there was an open mic night.” You laughed at that, and he smiled at you. “And there was this feeling that the music was just spilling out of me. It would come to me at the funniest times, especially on the subway or when I was walking home, and I’d have to write it down or it’d never get out of my head. So I finally just decided to take it as a sign.”

“That’s really amazing,” You told him, meaning every word. He looked suspicious of your statement though. “To have something that you are that passionate about. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way about something. Always wanted to. Thought there was something wrong with me, even, that I didn’t have a passion like all my other friends.”

Then, Harry did the sweetest thing you’d ever had happen to you during a one night stand. He reached up and pushed a strand of hair behind your ear that had escaped, his fingertips trailing down your neck as he withdrew his hand. It was like he craved your skin as much as you where craving touching his, with his chest exposed, his many tattoos on display. 

Finally, he spoke, and when he did, his voice was rougher than it had been before. “You’re not missing out,” he said. “Sometimes I wish I could shut it off. Would make life a hell of a lot easier.” 

His words were so raw, so honest. 

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “Isn’t this intimate for a morning after conversation.”

You laughed, pushing gently against his shoulder. “Hey, I thought it was cute.”

“Just what every man wants to hear first thing in the morning,” he answered, rolling towards you and propping himself up on his wrists so he was hovering over you. “I have a secret.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, slotting his lower body between yours. You could feel his cock brush against your center deliciously, and it’s like it hadn’t been inside you less than twelve hours ago from the way your body lit up. “I might tell you, but only if you’re really, really nice to me.” 

He nosed at your forehead with his nose, tilting your head back slightly so he could look directly into your eyes. You loved when guys could match you with banter, could be all fun and playful after a hookup. Otherwise it was just awkward. So, you played along. “Nice, hmm?” You said, lifting your hands from their spot on the sheets and trailing your fingertips up his sides. 

The way Harry’s body tensed immediately caught your eye, and you loved it. The fact that you had the same effect on him that he had on you did wonders for your self esteem, and encouraged the playful fire burning in your stomach. 

“Wonder how I could be nice to you,” you teased, splaying your fingers across his torso and and pressing gently into the skin, watching his abdomen muscles ripple under your pressure. 

“I could think of a few ways,” he breathed out, eyes darting all over your face. 

“Oh yeah?” You pushed at his right shoulder, forcing him back to his pillow and onto his back. With ease, you sat up and slotted your knees on either side of his hips. But you didn’t rest yourself on his body, instead you hovered above him, suddenly thankful for the pilates you’d become obsessed with lately, because your legs didn’t shake immediately. “Wonder if I could guess a couple of them.”

Harry’s eyes were wide, staring at you. His gaze was locked on your tits, which were uncovered and bare for him to see, and you loved the attention, the feeling of warm from his gaze on your body. “I think you might be onto something.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, gently lowering onto his bare cock and brushing delicately up and down on him, the friction making both of you moan. Then, you lifted right back up, hovering on your knees, with Harry staring up at you in disbelief. However, he didn’t make a sound, just watched you, mesmerized. 

You reached below you and held his length in your hand, running your hand up and down, watching the muscles in his jaw clench with every stroke. Then, you lifted his tip and brushed him against your slit, which by this point was most definitely wet. And you knew he could feel it. 

The sound that left his throat as you ran his tip along you slit but not inside it sent your brain into overdrive. You barely resisted the temptation to slip him inside, but you wanted to tease him, to make him beg to fuck you. That desire managed to help you hold onto your sanity as you slipped just the very smallest amount of his tip inside of you and then rose up out of reach. 

The man below you whined when you lifted up, his hands curling around your thighs and tightening. “Fuck,” he breathed out. “Fuck.”

But you weren’t done. You rested his cock flat on his hips and lowered yourself down, rubbing your pussy back and forth on his length, and letting yourself get lost in the feeling. Because you could come to this feeling alone—the feeling of his skin, the warmth of him, the way his tip notched in your clit and made you bite your lip delicately. Your head dropped back and your hands crept up your body, fingers pulling and kneading at your breasts. At this point any semblance of self-consciousness had left you and you were consumed in your own pleasure, in chasing your own orgasm regardless of who was there to witness it. 

In fact, if Harry’s hands hadn’t slipped under yours, you could’ve forgotten he was even there. But then his fingers crept under yours and pushed your hands off your breasts, and his own replaced yours. His fingers were rougher than yours, the tip of his thumb calloused from pressing down on his guitar strings, and you loved how it felt on your skin. The rough graze of skin on yours, and the way his hands were larger than yours and could hold more of your breasts in his hands. And then he started to knead them and your mouth dropped open a tad, just enough for a whimper to escape your throat. 

“Feel good, baby?” He asked, the pet name dropping from his mouth and melting into your veins, filed away for your fantasies later, once you were truly on your own. The way it sounded coming from his lips, the way the syllable left his tongue. 

His tongue. Your head perked up and you found his eyes, which were already staring at you. You wanted his tongue. You bent your head and down and his lips rose to meet yours, crashing together in the press of need and desire. His lips parted with ease when you brushed against them with the tip of your tongue, and then you had access to what you wanted. When his tongue touched yours, you curled your fingers in his hair and pulled gently, the feeling of being consumed by him taking over. Your hips were still moving back and forth, and you just needed more and more of him. It wasn’t enough. 

“More,” you mumbled, pressing your forehead to his, hands on his shoulders for leverage. 

“What do you want, angel?” A new pet name that you filed away.

What did you want? You thought about it for a split second and let the first thought that flashed into your mind take hold. When you needed to finish, the thing that always put you over the edge was a tad bit of pain. Your favorite, by far, when you were like this—touch starved and needy—was on your nipples, though. 

So you grabbed his hands, and maneuvered them so his thumbs and forefingers caught around your nipple, and pressed the together. The pain shot through you in a delicious way—not too intense, but enough to make your pussy tighten at the sensation. 

Harry let out a sound that you couldn’t place. Somewhere between a groan and a whine and the sound of your name. “That, hmm, baby? Like a bit of pain?”

You nodded so fast, not wanting him to stop. 

“Fuck, okay. Tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” You nodded once more, and then you lost yourself in the feeling. 

He varied the pressure, giving your nipples a break but then pressing harshly so it always felt like a jolt of pain—which is exactly what you liked. The surprise. It made your hips speed up in time, head lolling from side to side as breathy moans escaped your mouth, sounding something like his name. 

You hadn’t had this feeling in a minute, and you missed it. The all-consuming feeling of chasing an orgasm with someone else, of the combination of friction and pain, your absolute favorite that never failed you. 

“You are so hot,” he mumbled, quietly and almost to himself. But you heard it. 

And it happened to toss you right over the edge. The pressure on your nipples was too much and you could feel how hard he was, and the wetness of you made you slide right along his ridges and fuck it was too much. You crashed into an orgasm, a fire of glory that left your body quivering, fingers tightening on Harry’s shoulders. “Fuck,” you breathed out shakily, eyes opening after the shocks quieted in your system.

They found Harry immediately, his gaze on yours. “Good?”

“Mhmm,” you answered, twirling your fingers at the nape of his neck where his hair was. “You’re good at that.”

He chuckled. “I think you’re better—nearly came watching that.”

“Yeah?” You reached down and brushed your fingertip over his tip. 

His hips jolted at the touch, hands tightening from their new location on your hips. “Good lord, woman, gonna kill me.”

You cocked your head to the side. “I hope not. Was hoping to have another round.” You don’t think he realized he did it, but his tongue slipped out and wiped across his lips. 

“I’d be—fucking hell.”

You’d slipped him inside of you mid-sentence, so fast he didn’t realize it. And the feeling of him inside of you was absolute fucking heaven. You were still tight from your orgasm and dripping, and he was rock hard—the triple threat meant that your body shook ever so slightly at the feeling, your sensitivity making how good he felt send you into overdrive. Gently, you rose up, slipping your ankles onto the tops of his thighs to gain leverage, and then back down. 

The way he bore so deep inside of you made you groan, low and deep. And with that, you were moving without even realizing it—and then Harry was above you. 

He’d flipped you on your back. 

And with one look at his eyes, you knew there was no way he was going to let you move an inch. His gaze was ravenous, like a caged animal just freed. His eyes were devouring you, taking every morsel of you. 

Then, he started to move. 

His hips snapped forward and you cried out from how intense it was, the cry quickly turning into a flurry of moans and his name, falling from your mouth without pause as he fucked you hard. It was intense and delicious. His cock brushed so deep inside of you that it made your eyes roll back (not that you’d admit that to him), the pace he set forcing your hands to scramble across his skin to find something to hold onto. You ended up deciding on the duvet cover you’d slept under, hands above your head and fingers curled in the material, mouth dropped open in a silent scream that you couldn’t quite find the air for in your lungs because he was fucking it all out of you. 

“You feel so good,” he mumbled, yet another phrase in the mess of words leaving his mouth in that low, gravely, delectable voice of his. That was quickly followed by, “Your pussy feels like heaven” and “Never leaving, I swear to God”.

Somewhere in that train of words, you realized that he was bare inside of you. 

You had been the one to put him inside of you, but you had obviously been to fucked out of your mind to even realize it, because now he was completely bare inside of your pussy. 

“Harry,” you said. “You forgot a condom.”

The man, to his credit, immediately stilled inside of you. “Fuck,” he mumbled. “Didn’t—how the fuck didn’t I realize that? Would like to at least be conscious when I get to feel your pussy bare for the first time.” He looked at your face. “Now I understand why you feel so good. Fuck—um, can you grab one? In the drawer on your right side.”

You looked at him, looking at you, and felt the clench of your walls around his bare cock, and made an incredibly impulsive decision. “You clean?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately. “You?”

“Yes. And have an IUD. Keep going, please—just don’t come inside.”

“Fuck,” he said, and then he resumed his relentless pace. “Promise, angel—promise I won’t. Where do you want me to come, baby?”

“My tits,” you replied without a pause, and that made the gorgeous man above you groan harshly, one of his hands traveling up your body to tweak your nipple. You let out a squeak and then a moan as he continued, obviously using his newfound novel of your kinks to his advantage. 

“I love your breasts, goddamn,” he said, each word enunciated by a separate thrust. 

You could feel droplets of sweat dropping onto your skin, the sign of his exertion, and you loved the feeling. Loved watching him come undone above you. Craving him deeper, you lifted your legs and curved your calves around his hips, tugging him higher up your body and deeper inside you. Both of you groaned deeply, and then he did something you didn’t expect, but were immediately intoxicated by. 

He reached up to where your hands were curled in the duvet, and pushed your wrists together, and then wrapped his hand around them, holding your hands above your head. Most of his weight was in his other hand which was on the bed, so it didn’t put too much pressure on your wrists, but just enough to where you knew he was using the leverage to keep you in place. And it made your eyes flutter shut and hips arch up into him. 

The combination of all of this made his pace pick up, a stream of words falling from his mouth as he fucked you hard and fast and deep, just how you wanted it. You loved how talkative he was while he fucked you, something most men weren’t. 

Your second orgasm was rising quickly, rippling through your body and you couldn’t do a thing to stop it. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, those green eyes finding yours immediately. “Gonna come,” you informed him, pussy tightening as if on command. 

His grip on your wrists tightened and he fucked you harder, a brutal pace that had you calling out his name, not even thinking about the fact that he definitely had roommates, because all you wanted was your orgasm, and you wanted everyone to know he gave it to you. 

Just as you came, your orgasm ripping through you like an unstoppable wave, Harry pulled himself out of you and you dropped your legs immediately, knowing he was going to come. He moved up the length of you and you scooted down, out of breath and panting from your orgasm but wanting his come on your breasts anyway. He tugged twice on his length and then come was painting stripes on your skin, warm on your clammy skin. 

“Holy fuck,” he breathed, hovering above you, panting. 

You smiled up at him, and when his hands released your wrists you reached down, pushing a forefinger through the streaks of come on your chest. Harry watched in awe as you brought your finger to your mouth, savoring his taste—salty and delicious. 

“You,” he said, eyes on your mouth. “You are amazing.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you replied, gazing up at him, wondering how you would be able to give him up. You were addicted. 

Two hours later, after an Uber Eats delivery for some coffee and bagels which were consumed in bed before Harry went down on you again, pulling yet another orgasm from you, and a very heated makeout session, you were tugging on your coat in his room. Harry was pulling on a pair of pajama pants, and when he placed a pair of glasses on his nose you smiled. 

“Didn’t know you wore glasses,” you told him.

“Lots of things you don’t know about me.” He moved toward you and wrapped his hands around your hips, tugging your body into his. Your mouth met his with ease, a kiss more gentle than the previous ones dancing across your lips that made you smile. 

Stepping back, you said, “Thanks for breakfast.”

He nodded, and with another glance around his room, you followed him out of the bedroom and into the living room of his apartment. It was quiet—most likely his friends were either not awake still or hiding in their bedrooms. If you were his roommate, you’d definitely be hiding right now. 

The apartment was cramped, like every other New York apartment, but homey. Knick knacks and proof of life were scattered across all surfaces, random scraps of paper, a guitar pick here and there, some books, a plant or two. For a couple of guys, it wasn’t too bad. 

“So,” he said when you two reached the door. “I—uh—I had a lot of fun with you.”

You smiled at him, taking sincere joy in the awkwardness in his stance. He was so confident and forward all night and this morning, so seeing him like this made you grin. “I had fun too, Harry.”

He returned your smile, and reached down to curl his fingers in the top of your skirt. “Would you want to learn all those things about me?” You cocked your head at his statement, and then he quickly clarified. “That you don’t know. Like, over coffee.”

This man was asking you out on a date. A rarity for a one night stand. 

Even though you’d only gotten out of a relationship relatively recently, this man intrigued you. He was funny, kind, creative, and an absolute dream in bed. And he was fucking gorgeous. The banter helped too. You looked at him, studying the gleam in his eyes, and then nodded. 

“I’d love to.”

That made his smile grow even wider, and then he leaned down, attaching his lips to you in a kiss somewhere between sweet and full of desire, like he was remembering what your night held and was curious for the future. When he pulled away, he reached into his pocket for his phone. “Number, please.”

You typed in the digits as requested, and took it upon yourself to slide the phone back into his pocket, taking the opportunity to squeeze gently at his ass. It made him laugh, that laugh that lit up your body. “See you soon,” you told him, stealing one more kiss before opening the door and walking into his hallway. 

He stood in the doorway, shirtless in just a pair of pajama pants, hair beautifully ruffled, and watched you walk down the hall. The whole way you could feel his eyes on you, and it made your skin sing. 

Once you stepped onto the street, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Pulling it out, you glanced down to find an unknown number on your screen. 

“Free at 2?”

It was noon.

You laughed into the streets of New York before replying with a Yes. The future, you thought to yourself before setting off for your own apartment, was full of possibility. 

tell me what you think!!!!!! XOXO LOVE Y'ALL

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles masterlist #harry styles

[m-jelly]

Part 1. Request where reader is a wolf shifter and noone knows. She, Levi and Hange get separated from the main scout group during a missing outside the walls, their gear damaged and their horses gone, they seek refuge in a cave. When a hoard of Titans starts to slowly chip away at the cave entrance, reader makes the choice to save them by shifting into a giant wolf and fights off the titans.

Anonymous asked:

Part 2. Afterwards she uses her size and speed to carry them back to the walls, once there, they are spotted by garrison members, Levi and Hange make it up the walls with their help but the garrison shoot at reader forcing her to flee. You can decide what happens from here. 😀

Comfort fur

Levi x fem!reader

Canon world, shifter reader, fluff, romance, protective Levi, concerned Levi, becoming a couple.

Things get desperate for you, Levi and Hange in a cave. Worried you'd lose a close friend and a man you secretly loved, you decide to reveal the truth about yourself. You turn into a giant black wolf and rip into the titans. You take your friends to safety but are sent away by the garrison. Determined to get you back, Levi gathers supplies and searches for you.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

The crumbling of rock was getting louder and closer. The crackling of the fire keeping you all warm was no longer comforting. No matter how much you all thought about what had happened, there was no way around how you came to be in this situation. This time the titans seemed organised.

As the threat of the Titans clawing closer brought the thought of death, you could see Levi and Hange going through their own personal stages of facing the situation. Levi was putting together something that could be a weapon. Hange was observing the titans and drawing on the floor as if she was inventing something to help.

The stinging in your heart got worse and worse. There was no denying it now, you were the only one who could save the lives of Hange and Levi. Hange was a good friend to you and cared for you. You felt a little out of place in the scouts, but she took you in and became a good friend allowing you to feel like you belongs.

When it came to Levi, it was an emotional thing for you. The two of you had gotten close over late-night cups of tea. Something built up in your heart towards the tired Captain. However, the feelings inside you would remain hidden because you didn't believe a man like him could ever love someone like you.

As the cave entrance fell apart you knew very well you were the last hope for the two, and after doing this it was the end of you wanting to be with Levi. Even when you thought about being a couple with Levi, you didn't think it'd ever happen because you thought he was too good for you.

With a long sigh, you rose to your aching legs and walked to the cave entrance. Echoes of your friends shouting surrounded you. You came to a stop and looked back at the two of them. "I'll get us out of here. I understand this will mean the end of us being friends and working together. Please, stand back."

Levi moved closer as he called your name. "What are you talking about? Get back here. We'll find a way. Don't throw your lift away."

You clicked your neck. "I won't die, so don't worry."

As soon as you ran and jumped a heat consumed you. Black smoke wrapped around you before dissipating to show black fur moving in the breeze. Large paws slammed on the ground and a deep growl echoed in the cave. The cave was tight around your big wolf body, but soon you'd be out.

The gasps and shouts behind you stung your heart a little, you couldn't hear what they were saying but you assumed they were scared and disgusted. Before you could hear anything you were saying, you charged towards the titans and dove for them.

Your large teeth ripped are tore into flesh. You used your claws to swipe at others. The desire to kill and protect those you cared for consumed you. You lost track of what was going on and kept killing up there was nothing left but a steaming pile of flesh.

You shook your body and walked through the steam and stopped by the cave entrance. You lowered down and lay there before Hange and Levi. You were waiting for them to hate you, hurt you or shout but you were surprised.

Levi approached you and fussed the fur on your snout because you were so massive. He smiled a little. "You're soft and beautiful."

You closed your eyes and enjoyed him petting you. It surprised you that a tear ran down your cheek, but it was so emotional to be accepted. You shifted a little and gazed at him to give him a hint.

Levi nodded, climbed up your fur and sat on your shoulders. "Oi? Four eyes? Get on her back."

Hange raced over. "YES!" She climbed up and patted your back. "You're amazing!"

You stood up and turned on the spot until you were facing out of the forest. You sniffed the air and smelt where there was a large gathering of humans, meaning that was where the walls were. You walked at first so they could get used to you before you started running. It felt nice to be free and in your wolf form, but you knew that you could never go back to the scouts now.

As soon as you reached the wall you heard the shouts and screams of panic from the garrison. You needed to be quick to save Hange and Levi. With your paws firmly pressed on the wall, you lifted up and allowed Levi and Hange to climb off you.

Levi's heart stung when you cried out with a heart-wrenching whimper when you were hit on your back leg. He screamed with Hange to get them to stop firing, but they were too terrified. He watched in horror as you clambered to your paws and raced away, a trail of blood left behind you.

He hurried to the nearest base, gathered up some gear and changed his items before rushing to the wall again. He told Hange to give Erwin an update and he would be back with you. Levi refused to leave you behind and Hange agreed with him.

Levi followed your blood until he reached you. His heart fluttered as you sat in your wolf form near a cliff. The sun was setting and covered the place in a beautiful warm glow. There was a large lake that perfectly reflected the mixture of colours. Levi thought the glow of it all and how your fur moved gently in the wind was pretty.

He moved closer to you and called your name. "I've get medical things for your leg."

You looked down at Levi and whined a bit.

He reached over and fussed you. "I'm not afraid of you. I think you're beautiful. Please?"

You lowered your head as smoke moved around you. As soon as the smoke went away you were stood in front of your Captain. "Levi."

Levi scooped you up into his arms before sitting on the floor with you. "I need to patch you up."

You whined. "Levi, we should-."

He used his blade to cut your trouser leg open. He cleaned up the wound before wrapping it up tightly. "I'm sorry you got hurt. Tch, people are too shit scared of everything. They just have to take a moment to understand."

You stared at Levi. "Why are you not scared of me?"

He gave you his water canteen. "If you were like Eren, then I would be concerned, but you're just a big dog." He smiled a little at you. "You helped us and you have full control over what you can do. I feel safe with you."

You rubbed your tears away and sniffed. "I'm glad. I don't know what I'd do if you hated me."

Levi's cheeks burned. "Why me?"

"You're special to me, Levi."

Levi held your hand. "I didn't know you felt the same way." He lifted your hand and kissed it. He softly said your name against your skin. "I always wondered why you were so warm and now I know."

You wrapped your arms around Levi and hugged him. "I hope that I don't get locked away. I want to stay with you."

Levi held you and sighed. Having you in his arms relaxed him. "I'll make sure no one ever hurts you. I'll protect you."

#levi ackerman #levi #aot levi #snk levi #aot fanfiction #fanfic #levi x y/n #levi fanfiction #levi x you #levi x reader #captain levi ackerman x reader #captain levi #captain levi x you #captain levi x reader #captain levi fanfiction #levi attack on titan #levi aot #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #jelly fanfics

[charpeach]

I think you've created the best leshy and the best heket, both in terms of design and the posts and reblogs you've made.

but I would like to tell you that frogs don't have tails, heket is not a tadpole and that anura literally means tailless

Hi. I appreciate your message and thank you for the kind words about my designs.

Since the topic of Heket's tail seems to be appearing quite frequently in my and other artist's ask boxes, here's what I have to say.

This is your reminder that it is not okay to comment on people's artistic choices like that.

Art is art, and it begins in the artist.

Art exists to express its creator. It's to put their ideas, their love and passion towards a character or a franchise as a whole into something that others can see (listen to, read, touch, I'm not speaking just about paintings).

Art is a shared experience. It is to be observed.

And it is not an artist's job to try and fit their work into every frame that some people on the internet may have created for themselves.

Heket is not a frog. She may appear so, but her existence in a regural frog's body had ended very long time ago.

She's a goddess. A fallen and defeated one, at last, but the divine essence has intervened with her existence so much that it can't ever be taken away from her.

Frogs aren't fifteen-ish times the lamb's height. They don't have additional sets of eyes and the definitely do not have some weird crosses and tower looking like things sticking out their head. Oh, right, and they don't have tails too.

Cult of the lamb is a fantastic fictional world, with magic, relics, gods and ???. Narinder used to possess an ability to rip his face open and detach his eyeballs from their sockets to have a fight with lamb.

I don't see any good reason why in given circumstances Heket's current body can't have a tail. She still has other eyes and crosses, even though I don't include the latter in my art.

Once again, art is art and my design is my design. I've made that decision and I'm well aware that it may not be accurate to real life biology. Question awaits, why in the world should it?

I used to grow toadpoles into frogs in an aquarium a while ago. I've watched them go through every stage of development, I've seen them change and transform, and it isn't a momentary process. The tail doesn't suddenly fall off. The toadpoles first grow their back legs, then front ones, and by the time the latter are fully formed, they still have their tail for about a day or two. So, here's your biological explanation: her current body is very, very young.

I chose to include the tail in the design as a metaphor of bishop's rebirth. Her mind may be old, but right now she's like a child in a world that is so new and unfamiliar to her. She has to go through everything that all young people have to.

This post might seem just out of place, as if I'm looking too much into a simple comment like that one. But I've seen just one too many artists bullied into thinking that their ideas or choices aren't valid and do not matter. They were forced to change their beautiful works because someone else had told them to.

So let me tell you something instead.

You don't have to change your art. You can make whatever artistic choices you want, and they are valid, and they are beautiful, because they are yours.

We wouldn't have a quarter of the diversity and creativity in art if a long time ago one artist their contemporaries claimed to be weird and incorrect submitted to them and returned to only drawing what they thought were allowed.

Frames are to be broken.

I love you all, thank you for reading this.

#art #fanart #my art #cotl #cult of the lamb #artists on tumblr #fan art #heket #follower heket #cult of the lamb heket #cotl heket #long reads #artist #digital art #digital drawing #drawing

[inbetweenhours]

How It Started VS How Its Going

Back on that @pinchhitsfromthevoid hype! This pinch prompt was for @dayables​ who I know got spoiled in the brainstorming chat (rip) but I still hope you enjoy how it turned out! You gave me the option of flower husbands which was absolutely not going to be passed up, as well as the prompt of Arranged Marriage AU. Since I just so happen to already have an arranged marriage au for them, I figured I may as well put some effort into actually showing it off since, despite my very long google doc of plot chicanery, I haven't actually drawn much for it or otherwise got much of anything to show for it.

The real trick here was balancing the angst and fluff. There was no way I wasn't getting out of this without, any angst. The problem was actually finding a suitable amount of fluff to balance this out lol. I knew I wanted to draw their wedding, since that's the whole base of the au and it directly emphasizes your request. The problem is that within the au, these two don’t really get to anywhere that's especially fluffy till weeks if not months after their wedding lol. That’s how I eventually settled on a kind of “before and after” of their relationship. 

Mirroring their less than favourable wedding day and first meeting with the renewal of vows they do near the end of their journey within my plot. Where they choose, despite already being stuck together, to have meaning behind their marriage.

Below the cut I’m gonna ramble about the lore  important to this piece from the au. Enjoy :]

Okay so first off- their “vows”! Instead of exchanging rings my idea is that the Ocean Empire and Rivendell each have a different giving for their wedding ceremonies.

Merlings have a selkie inspired pelt. Its technically their old skin. Young merlings are much more creature esq, and as they grow they grow out of that skin into a more humanoid form. However they tend to keep their pelts since they are pretty durable and are good for young merlings to protect themselves with and camouflage in the depths. As merlings continue to grow out of even that stage, their pelts become sentimental. kept close to their hearts. The lose of the plt is like a severing of oneself from their soul or heart. Its important for their mental health that they know where their pelt is and that is is safe. They’re not typically handled by people you don’t trust.

Which is why it is traditional that merling will trade pelts with their lover at their wedding. Its imbuing this trust that their partner will give the pelt back. As well it is a symbol of love and  soul, metaphorically giving that devotion and adoration to their partner.

Elves meanwhile are a type of fae. The rules I use for elves names are adjacent but not directly the same as other fae, such as the faeries of the overgrown. Elven names hold power over the individual still, but its far less than what a faerie might hold. It more a social power than anything else. Elves keep public and personal names. These “true” personal names can only be chosen by the elf themself. They are only given to people who you trust absolutely. May that be family, longtime friends, or lovers. Its not uncommon in Rivendell for lovers to not share their true names until their wedding day, though even if they have the vows are much the same. Giving their spouse the gift of their name, to use as they please. This is done both out of trust (much like the merlings pelts), trusting their lovers not to hurt them with their name. And more importantly it offers devotion to your spouse, which would be returned of course.

Now when it comes to Flower Husbands... this all falls apart. These two have not had a real conversation till their vows. They have no trust or love for one another, and are in fact quite afraid of each other. Neither want to give over something so terrifyingly precious to the other. 

Jimmy feels pressured to do so, despite Lizzie insisting he doesn’t have to, because he knows how a wedding should go. He knows the citizens of the Ocean Empire do not trust that his mother, The Empress, has made the right choice in allowing this marriage to go through. He knows if he doesn’t do his best to make this look and feel legit for them, then they’ll only have more problems in the future. And he really is trying to be responsible, trying to prove himself to his family and his kingdoms that he can do the right thing. He isn’t just the prince, the second born. He is loved by his country, deeply so, but nothing is expected of him. He wants to do one good thing for them in turn. Hell, he volunteered himself so that his sister wouldn’t throw away her preexisting courtship. He loves his family and his country, and he has never been asked to do a thing for them. He just wants to prove he can.

So he drapes his pelt over Scotts shoulders, careful and with the sudden understanding of how badly it hurts to see. How easily being separated from it would destroy him. And he can only hope Scott will return it soon.

Scott meanwhile doesn’t believe in another choice. He is the Chosen Champion of Aeor, god of Winter and Stasis. He is a representative of tradition for Rivendell. As much as he is fuming about the marriage, he has rarely acted out in his life. The golden child for so much of his adolescence that even when that love has left he knows little more than to hold his tongue and obey... for now. Still, he knows what is expected of him for the wedding. And despite there being no way for his family or the citizens to verify he abided by tradition in this instance, he is loyal enough to his god (and in fact fairly knows his god perceives him and he would know he wronged him) to not try and get around it. 

So he gives his name, as coldly and objectively as he can. It is not a gift, but Jimmy, traditionally, has a right to it through their union. He can only pray Jimmy be kind with it.

Ultimately both spouses are careless with their exchange. Scott misunderstands the importance of the pelt, and keeps it far to long. Jimmy misunderstand the weight of Scotts name, and speaks it carelessly. Its rough, and terrifying. But it leads them to understanding, to finding common ground and for the first time finding hope in their situation as they understand the other not as an enemy but as the only ally in the same situation as them.

Finally I’m gonna do a quick run through of details I was happy with, kinda lore relevant but with less flowery language on the plot.

At their wedding both are dressed in traditional wedding garb for their empires, as well I’ve referenced my board loosely to dress the crowd properly. Rivendell brides/grooms tend to wear white. It represents purity, white is typically only worn in formal settings o it wont be dirties anyways, and it doesn't represent either individual god. Allowing neutrality. Jimmy is wearing a loose cut deep blue outfit with small decorative. Dark colours but especially deep blues are traditional as they connect with both the deep waters and the sky, tying an individual throughout to the world and their life.

In their renewal of vows they wear nearly the same outfits, however Jimmy sports some golden Rivendell jewelry and Scott in turn sports some pearls in his hair much like how Jimmy had at their wedding. Its about the sharing <33

Wedding day was very formal, very controlled. Both of their hair pulled back and styled in very proper traditional ways. At their vow renewal everything was up to them, so Jimmy looks a bit more like himself (as messy as that may be) and Scott has both his kingship and his hair cut (lore) so he’s a feeling a lot more stable

Scotts wears gloves at his wedding, vs without gloves at renewal! Tied in, at his wedding Scotts hair and skin is patterned with growing frost as he gets cold feet (hah) and is very upset about the situation versus his renewals where he has much more control of his powers and very explicitly happy with the situation

That is all for now! Day I hope you liked the pinch! Everyone else i hope you liked the lore! I would love to do more with the au going forward, I have a growing plot document and love talking about it. If anyone wants me to expand on any thoughts, has questions about the plot or characters or otherwise, my inbox is always open and I am attentive to both tags and comments ;) <3

#smajor #solidaritygaming #empires smp #empires smp 1 #empiresshipping #flower husbands #flower husbands arranged marriage au #hoursart #hourspost #pinch hit #the real miracle here is how i managed to get a background on tw oof these panels like what #pulled up my copy of the world download to reference the church and the prisma palace and everything #fun fact the one other post i have on this au is about a plotpoint that has actually straight up been moved #the tension goes on so much longer now lmaoo #long post #ig #rblogs appreciated! #also i do not believe in jimmy being that eloquent ever that was preritten and memoried lol #no id

[lorablackmane]

ISAT Act 5 Missable Interactions

I missed a shitton my 1st playthrough bc I was on that Siffrin mindset during act 5's loop and I realized afterwards I had a save in the meadow b4 everything. So I decided to compile stuff I found I missed 4 others who might've missed things too! Please keep in mind that below will be spoilers for this act and the next, and that there are some concerning things about Siffrin found here that I've labeled this post with a few trigger warnings. Check them before reading to decide if you want to read!

Updated!!!!!!!

Please note the section on the favor tree has new info!! If you don't want to know how a secret boss fight goes please skip the 2nd to last dot.

• Literally every kid in town is terrified by Siffrin now, ignoring him or telling them to go away. You'll walk away from the shopkeeper if you try to talk to him, causing Odile to look at Siffrin with concern. He eats the pain du chocolat in one bite, concerning the pastry maker.

• Says stepping on the banana peel isn't in the stage instructions if u try to use it now.

• Everything that had a smell in earlier chapters now smells like sugar.

• If you interact with the cookies on floor one Siffrin will try to eat one. It's as hard as a rock.

• Interacting with the landscape drawings in the broken egg key room makes them hysterically ask if they'll ever see anything outside this loop ever again.

• A new group of drawings are also here of Siffrin with his face completely blotted out like the friendship drawing.

• The dictionary makes him scream that he isn't taciturn anymore, is he?!

• Interacting with the "grape juice for adults" makes them say they hate alcohol (jlmfr) b4 taking a swig.. only to discover its actually just juice. They remark hysterically they can't even get drunk in peace here!

• Mira's dying plant reminds them of someone, and they remark how there's four happy, never changing plants all together on the other desk before hysterically laughing. Rubs their arms when passing the desks to try to simulate the human contact they'd get in earlier loops from their family.

• Says they'll make all the wishes come true if you Interact with the Head Housemaiden's wish survey.

• Rips the info on the King, if interacted with again they attempt their breathing exercises to no avail then suddenly smell sugar again.

• Looking at the drawings in this office will make Siffrin start thinking about defacing them, but remarks he doesn't have a pencil as he hysterically thinks scribble, scribble, scribble.

• Mocks themself for thinking odile is there if u interact with the checked out book list in the library.

• Gets upset if Interacting with the diary area bc they still can't say the name of their home country. Calls himself a stupid blinding idiot.

• Gets upset at the theater scroll section, stating why read one when you're in one. Tells themself to stop going off script and go if interacted with again.

• Wonders if they'll ever carve again when Interacting with the carving wood. States they'd like to carve the King if so so they can snap him in half if interacted with again.

• Interacting with the cupboard with eyepatch makes them say they're cold, their stomach hurts, they can't stop shaking and a headache is forming from thinking about their mistakes. Then they take the painkillers, one over the recommended dosage for their size.

• Interacting with food shelves makes them ask why their stomach hurts so much and they're so hungry like they haven't eaten in years.

• The croissant cookbook makes them grip their coin.

• The anthology of horror stories makes them repeat the scene with their family, before they mock themself again for knowing it by heart since they have always wanted to never forget

• Breaks one of the statues on the change God shelf in the pottery room.

• Refuses to take the gizmo, stating a fair fight or none at all.

• The clothing closet where Isabeau talks about your cloak makes him repeat the scene though says he's had this cloak forever in shaking text. When Isabeau goes to check the cloak Siffrin says that he doesn't touch them because they're disgusting. They say they're so cold. This time they realize they're hallucinating the others being there when they are going to do the final reply.

• They tell themselves to stop monologuing if they try to go towards the bathrooms.

• You can see the House inhabitants if you leave the final room!! And go back to Dormont to see the party they were getting ready for. The others will join Siffrin out of corcern for his mental state instead of stopping him which is nice. There's a bunch of interactions here I won't note but they're delights.

• Loop is gone, but Siffrin will leave their silver coin where they sat in a custom from his homeland.

Edit: thanks to @cleverretortnotfound for the hint that this changes! Instead of nothing there u find a silver coin. If interacted with he'll remark its the exact same as his own and call out to Loop, then ask if they should call them by their previous name... and Loop reappears. Silently they let Siffrin look them over, and though they don't have any features that mirror Siffrin's own... he knows. Theyre the same person. He takes their own coin out, flipping it before sending it to Loop who catches it without thinking. They look at it for a moment, before saying, "Oh stardust... so, you've won, haven't you? You broke the loops? Defeated the King? Talked to your party? Realized that all along, the reason you were stuck here was because of a stupid blinding wish you made? Awww. I'm soooo happy for you. You got your perfect ending, after all. And now... I have nothing left to say to you. So you should go."

Siffrin doesn't reply, causing Loop to ask why they're there still. What does he want them to say? WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO SAY? HE'S WON!

Once again, Siffrin doesn't reply. Loop laughs, before saying "oh, Stardust! You know, you know I was just like you once! A stupid, aimless traveler, trying to find any reason to keep going! And then, I met everyone! And I felt that finally, I had people i could count on, people I could love! And then, I got scared! And made the exact same mistake you did! Make a stupid blinding wish, hoping I could stay with them! Went through the House, tried to fight the King, tried to win! Did that for so long, I couldn't even give you a number! And then... I couldn't do it anymore. ...You see, not unlike you a few hours ago, I did a very special kind of giving up. But unlike you, who gave up on your wish, and almost destroyed the world in the process... I gave up on my wish, and destroyed myself.

And made another wish instead. I wished it could be over. I wished I could get out of here. I wished for someone to help me. For someone... Anyone, to help me!!! And someone did help me, right? The Universe did! They got me out of here! And trapped me in some other Siffrin's loops instead!!! And it was fine. It was different. It was even peaceful, for a while. I didn't have to stay inside the House, trying to defeat the King. I didn't have to fight, I didn't have struggle, I didn't have to do anything.

(Note: during the last paragraph, during the I wished section up until the scream for anyone to help,, we see stills from the intro animation where Siffrin eats the star. Theres a new still though, a close up of Siffrin crying out before he ate it.)

I just had to watch, and be happy that at least, I wasn't the only idiot out there who trapped themselves eternally in time. I just had to be happy that at least, this time, it wasn't me. And now. And now. AND NOW YOU-!!!

So! Since you won't leave, here's what I'm thinking... let's fight, you and I! Let's have a cute, minuscule, old-fashioned little fight like a bonded couple. Okay~?"

Once again, Siffrin doesn't reply and Loop laughs, "nothing to say, still? Haha... HAHAHAHA!! STARS, killing you would make me SO HAPPY. (note: during this sentence temporarily Loop turns into Siffrin and looks rather... concerning) Are you ready?"

Siffrin tries to speak up, but Loop says they don't get a choice.

The battle commences, with Loop saying let's just get to it. Loop strikes with stars but isn't very strong, they loop back the 1st time you win, the 2nd, the 3rd, and on the fourth the photo changes (will add link to another post with pics later).

At the end of the battle Loop looks away before saying, "you... Siffrin, Stardust, whatever our real name actually is... just kill me."

Siffrin is shocked and asks why. "Why," they say, "Are you stupid? Isn't it obvious?! I wanted to kill you!! So I could take your place!! I wanted what you have!!! Stars, I still do! You... you don't.. you don't want another you walking around. You should just kill me and get on with your stupid life!!"

This makes Siffrin laugh and reply their self-hatred isn't strong enough that'd they'd kill another version of themselves. Loops laughs at that and says he's got weird priorities... then say but what if they're asking him? What if Loop wants this? What if dying is the ending they want?! Siffrin doesn't reply and Loop starts to beg, "Stardust, please, please just kill me!!! I don't want to be here! What else is there for me now?! You've won, so I should be gone!! I can't go back to how it was before, because that past is gone! I can't go back to my friends, because they wouldn't recognize me!! There's nothing else for me to do, no script to follow, no Universe to lead me, I-"

They can't continue, sobbing. "Why.. why did it have to be you...? I could've... I wanted to... if only back then, I... if I had held on longer... maybe then..."

Oh Loop, Siffrin thinks. But don't you get it, he says. Loop asks what is there to get. The reason he succeeded, he replies, but Loop still doesn't understand. They take Loop's face into their hands as they say Loop was the reason they succeeded! Without them, he would've given up too. Because they were by Siffrin's side they continued going. Yes they didn't tell him everything, yeah they didn't know what to do... but knowing they were here and he wasn't alone...

They tearfully reply he's lying, but he says he's not. They shout again Siffrin is lying, but they reply again they're not! They try to scream it again, but siffrin stops them by saying, "Loop. Mira sends her thanks, by the way. They all do." Confused Loop repeats the word thanks, adding "...to me...?"

Siffrin laughs, and reminds them they helped the others get to the King. That they sent their thanks for leading them to Siffrin. For helping them save him. Loop can't reply, and Siffrin says, "See?"

"Stardust... why couldn't it have been me...?" Loop asks, to which Siffrin replies they don't know. Maybe it was the script, maybe it was the Universe, or maybe... maybe it's no one's fault. Loop is silent once more and he replies, "I'm sorry, Siffrin."

Finally using Loops real name. Then adds, "And thank you, Loop. Without you, I would've given up a long time ago. Thank you for helping me, this whole time."

Loop doesn't respond and Siffrin goes, "Loop, we can-"

Loop cuts them off, "Siffrin." He flinches as they continue, "Please, you're going to have to talk to them, from now on. No more keeping how you feel from them. We both know where this leads. And if one day, no matter what you do, everyone's paths and yours diverge... you'll have to learn to be okay with it. We cant... we can't do this again. Hold them hostage, against their knowledge, against their will, just because we're lonely. Learning to talk to them... learning to let go... it'll be hard. It'll feel impossible. You might think you'd rather die than share how you feel. After all, isn't bottling things up the reason you managed to break the loops? You didn't have to tell them anything until the very end, and it turned out fine didn't it?"

Siffrin is silent, then attempts to say but, but if I talked to them earlier, then maybe - then gets cut off by loop, "Yeah, dummy. If only you had been strong enough to talk to them, maybe this whole story wouldn't have happened at all. If only... oh well. It doesn't matter now."

Loop starts to disappear. Siffrin asks where they'll go now? Loop sadly replies, "Oh, stardust... I don't know! I'll join you so we can become one? I'll Die? I'll stay under this tree forever? Does it matter?"

You can choose between it does and I guess it doesn't. I won't update this with the other, I'm sorry but this is taking a toll on me, so I'll atleast tell you what "It does!" Leads to.

They laugh, then say Siffrin's sweet. "Aww, don't worry, Stardust. Somehow... I'm sure I'll see you again. You... and everyone else. Mirabelle, Isabeau, Odile, and Bonnie. I need to accept their thanks in person, don't I? That's just basic etiquette. And I'll need to give you back your silver coin eventually!"

Siffein agrees, and Loop continues, "...hmm. I'll see you all again soon enough, Stardust. I promise! I super promise! I super duper promise! So don't forget me, okay?"

The screen fades, leading us back to the gang. They welcome Siffrin back and ask if everything's okay. He says he thanked Loop, to which they're relieved. Odile says she was hoping they'd bring em back so she could thank them in person, and the others agree though Isa says they looked shy so maybe they were too embarrassed. Which is too bad because he had so many questions, and so he hopes they see them again soon. Bonnie says they wanted to know how Loop glows and how it felt, to which Mira chides them saying you can't ask someone how they glow. Bonnie is flabbergasted, making the others laugh.

Odile adds she hopes Siffrin told them they can see the gang anytime. Sadly Siffrin smiles before saying he did, and how they too hope Loop says hi again soon. The others note Siffrin looks sad while saying this to which he replies he was thinking of Loop. The others tell them they'll have to tell the gang more about them then soon. Like how they met and why they're a star. Also how they knew about the loops. They then go back to the final room.

• The best artist ever has something new in the epilogue.

Souvenirs

Silver coin

B4: grips it in his pocket.

Epilogue: remarks that it's been with them through it all and feels like it could've been used for something. Backstory no longer unlockable, but can be used at the Favor tree.

Drawn card

B4 epilogue: says it's a traveler walking to their death with open eyes, rips it apart.

The end: looks at the card and just says "it's you!"

Epilogue: says it's a traveler starting a new journey, the card is labeled the fool.

Bright flower

B4 epilogue: tears off all the petals then discards it

The end: says it's still here.

Epilogue: you still have the flower, he says before deciding that it's theirs now!

Friendship doodle

B4: Siffrin's face is blotted out, no reaction to viewing this..

Epilogue: their face is no longer missing. Unknown whether this was a hallucination on their end or not.

Clay

B4: presses it between their hands to try and help them with their breathing exercises.

The end: squish, squish they say.

Epilogue: Clay they say, before making a star. 

Piece of glass

B4: uses it to self harm by piercing it through a bit of the back of their arm multiple times. Says stars afterwards, can't tell if being sarcastic and calling the dots they made that or screaming the word like a curse as usual. (Updated: if used a second time Siffrin says they're making more tiny stars. Concerning)

The end: they say hide it, hide it don't make the others worried.

Epilogue: they become scared and startled, saying they need to be careful. Then they toss it before they can hurt themself.

Broken doll

B4: fixes the clothing on it, if u click on the cupboard it's from again tells it it'll see the end if it's the last thing it does.

The end: turns the doll so it can see everything.

Epilogue: they hold it close as they look at the sky, saying they both made it.

Crumpled poem

B4: genuinely could not read this the first seven times but using the capture reveals after reading it Siffrin repeatedly says they want to go home.

Epilogue: they read it, then say they'll never go home again, but maybe they can make a new one. They can't wait to see if they can.

Mirror picture

B4: no reaction. Says its of them and the actors despite no one being there.

Epilogue: they grip it tightly before tossing it, saying it's in the past now. That they're fine, they're fine! And if not they will be soon.

Long thingy-thing

B4: tosses it, saying it's not needed anymore.

Epilogue: they say it's their long thingy now.

#in stars and time #isat spoilers #isat #lbanalysis #Tw self harm #tw self destructive behavior

[yellowkitkieran]

Afterglow (Martin Odegaard)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Based loosely on ‘Afterglow’ by Taylor Swift. Requested by anonymous.

Babe, you need to see this. I'm sorry. 

The second you read the message from your best friend, your heart stutters. A link comes through seconds later. Your hand shakes as you click on it and an article fills your screen. The article brings your world crashing down before you read anything past the headline. It shows your boyfriend Martin laughing with a pretty blonde woman, one hand on her hip and the other holding hers as they walk out of a nondescript building. By all accounts, it looks damning.

A fire lights in your belly, one born of jealousy rage. How dare he? After everything he'd promised you? Who does he think he is? A million questions swirl in your mind, most of them barbed and accusatory. You glance at the clock, silently thankful that Martin should be there any second and you don't have to stew on this for long. 

Everything inside you wants to smash the photos in your flat until Martin's face is nowhere to be found. Three years down the drain for what was probably a fling. It isn't your fault you don't want to fuck as much as he does! That's probably all it was too; just sex, a replacement for what you couldn't always give him. And it stings to know he'd gone and found that somewhere else. 

You hear his keys outside your front door. Mentally drawing up your walls, you remind yourself to stand strong as it swings open. "Søta? I'm- oh hey. I missed you today."

Where Martin's voice is soft, yours is hard as stone. "Oh, did you? Are you sure you aren't mistaking me for that blonde you're fucking on the side?"

All color drains from Martin's face in an instant, which tells you all you need to know. "What do you mean? I'm not- you're my one and only, you know that!"

And now he has the audacity to lie to your face. "Are you fucking kidding me? You're really gonna stand there and pretend like I don't know what's going on? I saw the article Martin!"

"What article?" Martin rakes a nervous hand through his hair, voice raw and confused but you don't care. "Søta I swear-"

"Don't call me that!" You shove at Martin's chest with all your strength, breaking the loose grip he has on your arms. You feel like a cornered stallion, bucking and kicking because your heart is beating so wildly you can't hear anything over its roar in your ears. 

"The evidence is right here," you say, shoving your phone in his face. "Are you gonna tell me this photo is fake? Staged? 'Martin Ødegaard caught out and about with a new girl'? How do you think that makes me feel, that I have to find out about this through my friend? I'm an idiot!"

Martin made a promise that he would never, ever hurt you, and now he's done the worst possible thing you can do to another human. You trusted him with your fragile, taped together heart that you feared had been broken one too many times to be functional. But he had nurtured you, planted seeds of affection and helped you learn what real love looks like. Now he's ripped the rug out from under you and left you damaged. 

Martin stands stoic in the face of your hurricane of emotion. His eyes are red rimmed but other than that, he shows nothing on his face. "It's not true," he whispers, pleading with you to believe him. "You have to know it's not real. You know I would never do something like that."

You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest, "I can't listen to your excuses Martin. Please go."

Martin's face crumbles like your heart. He reaches for you but you step away, unwilling to let his touch bend your perception of events in his favor. One touch and you'll be done- your confidence will dissolve and you'll fall into his arms and let him hurt you again and again.

"I love you."

Your hands fly up to your ears like a child, protecting yourself from his words. You squeeze your eyes shut. You try to block out the way you can still feel him standing a few feet from you. When you finally open them some minutes later, Martin is finally gone. A folded slip of white paper sits on the floor where his feet were, but you don't touch it. 

The best thing you've ever had is gone, and you're afraid you'll never find something so sweet again. 

*********

Søta can we please talk?

I miss you.

Please just let me explain, I swear it isn't what you think it is

You refuse to respond to a single one of Martin's messages. You've been ignoring them for days and they have begun to pile up in your inbox, and still you refuse to touch them. You remain firm in your position that he'd done you wrong, that damning photo splashed across tabloids everywhere. He'd embarrassed you- how hard was it to break up with someone before moving on?

There's one singular image of Martin that comes out of Arsenal's training all week. He isn't looking at the camera but his posture alone is enough to tell you how heavy his heart is. You hate seeing him like that, despite everything. It isn't like your love for him evaporated; you still feel the same for him and seeing him so blue hurts.

Something constricts in your chest and for the first time in six days, and after much internal debate, you allow yourself to search for his name on Instagram. 

And it's then that you see her post explaining the story. It's a short reel and your curiosity gets the better of you- why would Martin choose her over you, the woman he claimed to love until the end of time? 

"Hey guys, I just wanted to hop on and address those images of me and Martin Ødegaard that have been circulating online. First and foremost, nothing happened! I literally fell flat on my face seconds before that as we were coming out the door- he was helping me walk in those stupid tall heels that I shouldn't have been in the first place. 

"I swear that's all it was- we both had photo shoots in the same building that day and he'd stopped to help me because I was struggling. I hadn't even met him before that day, and the only reason I know who he is, is thanks to everyone online!"

You lock your phone and set it on the table, completely stunned. Oh, you'd fucked up big time. Leaving your phone behind you grab your keys and your jacket, heart pounding as you rush out the door. 

You have to see him. You have to set things right. 

You make it to his house in record time. The weather must pick up and feed off your mood because just as you pull up the skies open up, rain pouring down from a suddenly cloudy sky. 

"Fuck it, let's go," you mumble to yourself, hopelessly holding your hands over your head as you run for his door. You knock frantically, praying he's home. You hadn't stopped to check what day it is- was he at recovery? Training? Was it a match day-

The door swings open and you're greeted by an exhausted looking Norwegian. Martin drums up a half smile, shifting his weight to his right foot, "Hey."

Seeing him now, everything comes crashing down. You should've let him speak before just barreling ahead. It wasn't right for you to shut him out the way you had. He deserved a chance to defend himself and you'd been so terrified of being hurt that you'd jumped to conclusions. 

You throw your arms around his neck and pull him out into the rain for a fierce hug, not caring that you're soaked to the bone. You bury your face in his shoulder as he instinctively soothes a hand over your back, unsure what was happening but hating seeing you upset all the same. 

"Shh søta it's alright… what's happened? Do you want to come inside?"

You pull back to look up at him, threading your fingers in the hair on the back of his head. "No- Martin I'm so sorry for everything. I should've let you speak instead of just accusing you of something I knew you wouldn't ever do. And I know you probably can't forgive me but I'm gonna do my best to earn it as best I can."

Martin smiles and brushes your sopping hair off your forehead. The tenderness in the gesture carries the weight of a thousand words and instantly you feel lighter. "I was never upset with you, and there's nothing to forgive. I don't blame you for reacting the way you did. I'm just glad you're here now… but I am gonna take you inside before you get sick and I have to take care of you."

You smile, silently grateful for him and the fact that the rain hides your tears. "I love you Mar, I'm glad you were home. I didn't really have a plan, I just knew I needed to speak with you."

Martin takes your hand and leads you inside before he says anything else. "You know where the spare key is anyway. I wouldn't put it past you to wait here and ambush me when I finally did get home." Martin kneels in front of you, allowing you to hold his shoulder for balance while he takes off your wet shoes and sets them aside. Then he starts on your jeans, unbuttoning them and working them down your legs, though the wet denim provides a challenge, "also, let's just put this all behind us okay? I want to forget it ever happened."

Standing before him half dressed, you smile at the man in front of you. No one has ever knelt before you, and certainly no one has ever looked at you the way Martin is now. His face is open and vulnerable, a beautiful sight to behold as rainwater drips down his cheeks and off his chin to dot the carpet under your feet. You place your hand on his jaw and guide him to his feet, pulling him in for a wet kiss as his hands find your hips.

"Just say you love me," you murmur against him, his warmth warding off the cold from your soaked skin. 

"I love you," he whispers into your mouth. "And I think we need a warm shower."

You pull back to search his expression, trying to determine his mood. "Together?" You ask tentatively, because you're not ready to be apart from him just yet.

Martin offers you a cheeky grin and grabs your bum, "together. Definitely together."

#martin odegaard #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fantasy #footballer fic #footballer fanfiction #footballer fluff #footballer imagine #arsenal fc #alt timeline lover #jac writes

[captainremmington-13]

A Lady Made of Snow

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova.

SUMMARY: Bellova begins to notice how dedicated Coriolanus is to helping his tribute, which greatly displeases her. But her anger at the young Snow is temporarily forgotten about when one of her classmates dies in her arms. (i’m using a combination of the movie and book version of the events that occur in this chapter)

Warnings: spoilers for TBOSAS, death, mentions of violent urges, mentions of blood, crying, one swear word

Bellova sighed inwardly, drawing a rose with a fountain pen on her notebook where she was supposed to be writing down Dean Highbottom’s words. The lecture was pointless in her opinion. She knew everything the dean was talking about by heart, and she was alive when the events being discussed were occurring. 

She would never admit it to him, but she wished Coriolanus hadn’t skipped class to accompany his tribute. It was unusual for him, the star student, to miss a lecture, even one of Highbottom’s. The competition between them made the dean’s nonsensical ramblings almost bearable.

Then, as if on cue, a breathless and sweaty Coriolanus burst into the lecture hall. All eyes turned to him, shocked at his disheveled appearance.

“Your little excursion was in violation of about five different Academy rules, Mr. Snow. Chief amongst them, endangering a Capitol student,” Dean Highbottom said, not looking up from his papers. 

“What?” Coriolanus said, baffled. “Who?”

“You.” Highbottom’s response made Bellova roll her eyes. He was constantly looking for reasons to target the young Snow. “I’m moving for the Gamemakers to disqualify you as mentor immediately.”

“You said we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away,” Coriolanus argued, standing at his seat next to Bellova but not sitting down.

“I’ll add insubordination as well,” the dean said smugly.

“Holding her hand, Coryo? Introducing her to people?” Arachne said, clearly disgusted. “You make it look as if we’re one and the same as those animals.”

Bellova couldn’t help but agree silently with her. She hated that Coriolanus had done so much to promote Lucy Gray, even going so far as to touch her. Had he forgotten that he was of the purest Capitol blood, only fit to associate with those who also held that status?

“Coriolanus didn’t show those people anything they didn’t already know.”

Bellova had to grip her textbook to refrain from throwing something at the young Plinth. He was being foolish, saying such things in the presence of the dean and the other mentors.

“I don’t need your help, Sejanus,” Coriolanus snapped.

“That the tributes are human beings. Just like us,” Sejanus continued. “That’s why nobody wants to watch the Games. It’s because people know deep down that winning a war ten years ago doesn’t justify starving people’s children, taking away their freedoms, their rights.”

“Shut up, Sejanus, please,” Bellova murmured through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, Dr. Gaul appeared, startling many of the mentors. Bellova looked at her, setting down her fountain pen.

“Snow fell down in the cage,” she began, smiling crookedly. “It fell down in the cage but it landed…”

“On stage,” Coriolanus finished.

The doctor grinned with delight. “You’re good at games. Maybe one day, you’ll be a Gamemaker like me.”

“If the Games continue at all,” Highbottom added.

“Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Mr. Snow’s in that zoo. And I came here to ask your star mentor a question: what are The Hunger Games for?”

This sparked an argument between Dr. Gaul, Highbottom, Coriolanus, and Sejanus. Bellova listened, intrigued. This was the most interesting thing that had happened during one of Highbottom’s lectures since the time Persephone and Arachne almost ripped each other’s heads off over a petty dispute. 

Coriolanus then proposed an idea, about making the games more “personal” for Capitol citizens. 

“We need them to invest,” he said. “And if we bend a few Capitol laws, we could even have them place bets. Look, I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena. But if you give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth Prize that she can win people’s attention.”

Dr. Gaul looked at him. “I’d like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow.”

“Wait,” Clemensia Dovecote spoke up. “You mean you might actually use his ideas?”

“If it’ll help the ratings, why not?” Dr. Gaul responded.

“Coriolanus and I are class partners, Dr. Gaul,” Clemensia said hastily. “We do all of our assignments together.”

‘Someone’s desperate for approval,’ Bellova thought, giving Clemensia a brief look of annoyance.

Dr. Gaul laughed, sending a visible chill through many of the mentors. “It’ll be an interesting test.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the lecture ended, the mentors went straight to the cafeteria. They were buzzing with excitement at the idea that Dr. Gaul may listen to their suggestions. Having an idea approved by her could do wonders for their future careers.

Bellova stood in line holding a tray, eyeing the mint chocolate fudge in the dessert section. She loved mint. It reminded her of wintertime, her favorite season.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Coriolanus tapping her on the shoulder. 

“What do you want?” she asked.

Coriolanus scoffed. “Your perfect manners never cease to amaze me.”

Bellova sneered. “Funny. Now get to the point.”

“I’m going to sneak some food out of here and give it to Lucy Gray at the Zoo. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me. You haven’t met your tribute yet, after all.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, putting a few slices of bread on her plate. “Breaking the rules again? After Highbottom just threatened to write you up for insubordination?”

“You were the one who told me to do anything it takes to succeed.”

“Fair enough,” she sighed. “Fine, I’ll come with you. I’ll give my tribute some bread while we’re there.”

Coriolanus smirked. “Who’s breaking rules now?”

Bellova gave him a look. “I’ll see you at the Zoo, Coryo.” With that, she grabbed a stack of mint chocolate fudge slices and walked off to join her friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that afternoon, Coriolanus, Bellova, and a handful of the other mentors met up at the Capitol Zoo. They immediately made their way to the monkey exhibit, where the tributes were being held. Nodding at the Peacekeepers surrounding the area, they stood inches away from the bars keeping them separated from the district children.

Bellova scanned the exhibit and eventually spotted her tribute in the corner. “Velvereen!” she called. The girl made her way over to the bars, looking at Bellova warily.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m your mentor, Bellova. Here, I brought some bread for you.” She held out the napkin to Velvereen, who took it instantly. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to visit earlier. I have a busy schedule.”

Velvereen said nothing, focusing on wolfing down the bread. 

“So,” Bellova continued. “Have you talked to any of the other tributes?”

“Not besides Facet,” she said, pointing to the male District 1 tribute. “Oh, and the singer girl. The one with the strange dress.”

Bellova glanced over at Lucy Gray, who was talking very intimately with Coriolanus. She fought back a look of irritation. Lucy Gray was certainly a spectacle, but she was clearly deranged. She couldn’t understand why Coriolanus was so fascinated with her, other than her extremely strange behavior. 

“I see,” Bellova said. “Well, I promise to visit more often if I can. My advice to you is to make allies. The more that you have, the better your chance of survival is.” 

Velvereen nods. “I know. That’s what my father told me.” 

Bellova gave her a small smile. “It’s good to know that you have a basic understanding of strategy.”

She looked to her left, and saw Arachne taunting her tribute with a glass bottle. “Arachne!“ she hissed. “What the hell are you doing?“

“Shut up, Bellova!” Arachne snapped. “Mind your own business.”

“Fine!” Bellova snapped back. She and Velvereen continued discussing the Games. She was thankful that her tribute was willing to converse, unlike several, who refused to interact with their mentors. But as much as she tried to focus on her tribute, she felt her eyes wander to Coriolanus and Lucy Gray, who seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. It seemed as if her odd charms were beginning to rub off on the young Snow as well. If she hadn’t been surrounded by so many Capitol citizens, she would’ve been tempted to grab Lucy Gray by the hair and slam her head against the metal bars of the enclosure. 

Her violent fantasy was abruptly halted by a chorus of screams. 

Brandy, Arachne’s tribute, had grabbed her mentor by the neck and snatched the bottle from her. “Help!” Arachne shrieked, trying desperately to escape her grasp. Before anyone could do anything, Brandy smashed the bottle against the metal bars of the cage, and used the serrated edge to stab her in the neck. 

“No, no, no!” Coriolanus screamed, rushing towards Arachne, who lay on the ground, convulsing in pain as the crowd screamed frantically around them. He gathered the girl in his arms, putting his hand to her throat, trying to stop the blood flow. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Hold on. Hold on!”

Arachne gasped for air, blood oozing from her neck. Bellova crouched down at her side, turning her head to face her.  “Hey, look at me. Hey, hold on! It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ll get help, I promise.” 

“Somebody help us, please!” Coriolanus yelled at the crowd. 

Chaos erupted, making the whole scene a blur. Brandy was shot by Peacekeepers, falling to the ground with a thud. The other tributes were screaming wildly, ducking away to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. 

Coriolanus and Bellova were eventually dragged away from Arachne, who was lifted onto a stretcher. They were escorted by Peacekeepers out of the Zoo and back onto Academy grounds. Once inside a quiet hallway, they collapsed onto the ground side by side, finally able to process what had just happened.

Bellova, who almost never showed any emotion besides smugness, anger, or contempt in Coriolanus’s presence, began to cry. Her head swam with terror and disgust, the sight of Arachne’s slit throat burned into her mind. She was never close to the girl, she found her to be shallow and hated her whining. But they had grown up together. She was part of the Capitol’s finest, meaning they had attended several events together over the years and visited each other’s homes regularly. And now, she was gone. 

“I should’ve done more to stop her,” she said, voice trembling uncontrollably. “She was being stupid, and I just let her keep doing it! Her blood is on my fucking hands! It’s all my fault!”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Coriolanus spoke up. “Blame the district girl. She was the one who did it.” 

“I know, I know,” Bellova cried, black mascara running down her face, ruining her perfect face of makeup. “But she’s dead too. I can’t even avenge Arachne by killing her. There’s nothing I can do.”

Coriolanus, who had finally stopped shaking, pulled Bellova into his side gently. He put his arm around her, rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder. “You’re safe now. This won’t ever happen again, the Capitol will tighten security tenfold.”

Without thinking, Bellova leaned into Coriolanus’s grasp. He patiently let her cry into his shoulder, while he tried to help steady her breathing. The two young students clung to each other, forgetting all of their past grievances in that moment. 

When they finally pulled away, they looked at each other, as if they were stunned at their own actions. Neither of them were affectionate towards each other, or affectionate people in general. Yet here they were, sitting on the cold marble floor of the Academy, comforting each other. 

Bellova cleared her throat. “We should probably get out of here. Let the administrators know that we’re going home early.” 

Coriolanus nodded, standing up and holding out his hand to help her up. Bellova took it, smiling ever-so slightly. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly. 

“Of course,” Coriolanus replied. 

They informed the staff that they’d be departing early. Nobody tried to stop them, understanding that they’d just been through a traumatic event. They walked down the steps of the Academy’s main building, standing near the curb.

Finally, Bellova broke the silence. “Let me take you back to your apartment. My driver will be here any minute.” Before Coriolanus could protest, she said, “You’re in no condition to walk that far. I know you always say you walk to and from school to clear your mind, but just let me do this for you. Please?”

“Fine,” Coriolanus said reluctantly. 

As they sat in the back of Bellova’s chauffeur’s car, neither of them said a word to each other. The death of Arachne had clearly rattled them both to the core, but they couldn’t bring themselves to talk about it. It still all felt like a nightmare. 

Bellova took a small compact and handkerchief out of her bag, using the cloth to wipe away the black stains her tears had left behind. She pressed some foundation over it, erasing any evidence of a breakdown. 

Coriolanus watched her, realizing that he’d likely never see her this vulnerable again. He was still surprised that she didn’t slap him for embracing her. They certainly had a unique relationship. Often times they were at each other’s throats, occasionally they exchanged words of advice and encouragement. But nevertheless, he didn’t want to see her so hurt. She was…a friend? A companion? Something other than a stranger, for sure. 

They pulled up outside of Coriolanus’s apartment complex, and Bellova’s driver opened the door for him. 

Coriolanus turned to Bellova, who was staring down at her hands. “Thank you for the ride. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” Bellova said, looking up to give him a small smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Coryo.”

“See you tomorrow, Bellova.”

And with one last nod, Coriolanus shut the door behind him, returning to his run-down apartment where Tigris and Grandma’am were waiting.

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TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy

Author’s Note: This chapter was a lot longer than the last one lolll I really liked writing this part because things become a lot more intense. Let me know in the comments what you think and if you’d like to be tagged!

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x oc #original character #thg prequel #the hunger games #arachne crane #clemensia dovecote #dean highbottom #the capitol #coriolanus snow x reader #lucy gray baird