#this point i hate all of them and never want to see them again. LIKE THE WAY IVE BEEN FUCKING BENDING OVER BACKWARDS over text trying to

[dwaekkicidal]

Sharing is Caring

˚ʚ3racha x fem!readerɞ˚

ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: After finding what Stray Kids' closest female friend really does with their leader behind closed doors, Jisung and Changbin decide they want in too.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 6.1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, slight angst before the first divider? But it gets resolved like immediately, fluff, nicknames used: 'baby girl, bunny, jagi(ya), and baby,' ot8✗reader mentions but smut is written for 3racha✗reader, Changbin has a fat crush on u, Chan✗reader action, Changbin✗reader action, some m✗m action: Chan✗Jisung mentions, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism, rough sex, (1½) pvssy slaps, hair pulling, overstimulation (?), readers a brat for 2 seconds, Channie is referred to as “Daddy” and Changbin as “Sir”, p in v, creampie & no protection (don't be silly wrap ur willy also pee after sex pls), blowjobs, a handjob, I think thats it?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: an audio I heard a few weeks ago inspired this... I actually have no clue how this came out of that audio but you’re welcome (or I'm sorry)

MDNI!! smut below the cut

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ PSA: Sorry if you find this annoying, but I put so much yapping talking that I was only comfortable posting this with color-coded dialogues: If you hate it let me know so that I don’t do it again, but it kinda worked out so I kept it in instead of adding a million more words for nothing

Chris | Binnie | Hannie | You

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You’re currently sitting in Stray Kids’ studio at the JYP building. Chris sits beside you in the other office chair at the desk, while Changbin and Han sit on the couch. Both staring holes into your heads as yours stare on the floor in embarrassment. They just walked in on you and Chris fucking in the studio, right in the very chair Chris was sitting in.

Speaking of, you see in the corner of your eye as he rubs his hands all over his face in frustration, his ears a very bright red. “Listen.. Normally we wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that in a public setting.. But I didn’t know you two were coming today and we got carried away..”

You glance up to see Changbin frown at the older boy, his eyes full of anger. You look over and check on Jisung, his eyes glossy. You furrow your eyebrows and lift your head fully. “Hannie..” You start, but immediately give up on your sentence when you see Changbin’s eye snap his eyes to you, the anger still prominent.

“Okay well… I don’t think that's the problem here… Do what you want, hyung. It’s your life..” Han starts, staring at you for a moment before continuing with a deep breath. “But you know how both of us feel about her. Hell. How the entire group feels about her. You have to see this from our point of view.”

Chan fixes his posture at the sentence and you look between the boys with pure confusion on your face. “Huh??”

“In my defense, I didn’t know how you guys felt until we were already messing around. We had already agreed on this arrangement months prior to the first person saying anything.”

“Arrangement?” Binnie says with the most attitude you’ve ever seen come out of him.

“We’re not dating.. We’re just…. friends with benefits. Sex with no extra emotional strings attached.” Chan sighs loudly, rubbing the back of his neck and continuing. “In all honesty, me and her talked about including you guys but we were afraid it would ruin things. Ruin the group as a whole.”

You start to feel frustrated, they're talking as if you’re not even in the room and when that's mixed with the ruined orgasm you just had, you can't help but get annoyed. “Hello?? I’m still here by the way. Can one of you tell me what the fuck is going on before I leave.” You narrow your eyes at the three of them and cross your arms. They’re caught off guard at your tone, you’ve never spoken to them in any tone outside of a sugary sweet one with pretty doe eyes. Even Changbin’s demeanor falters before he cracks his own neck. “Bunny. You haven’t noticed anything odd? How Hyunjin paints you every chance he gets? How Yongbok gives you all kinds of sweets and says that he ‘baked too much’? Not even the princess treatment that SEUNGMIN of all people gives you?”

You furrow your eyebrows at him before sputtering out, “W-Well yes, but I thought that was just normal behavior.”

Han lets out a tense laugh at that, when you turn to him he decides to continue for Changbin. “Jagiya, we don’t even do these things with each other… all of us are pretty in love with you. We have been for a long time to be honest. Though.. some of us…” he pauses before stealing a glance at the timid boy beside him. “Some of us fell faster and harder than the others. At the end of the day, you have all 8 of us wrapped around your finger.”

All the attitude and anger in your body is suddenly flushed out, replaced with confusion and surprise, “Wait..” When you think back to what Changbin said, the pieces start to click together. All 3 boys watch your reaction nervously, and Changbin lets out a slight sigh of relief when he sees the gears turning in your head. “She actually had no clue.”

“I tried to not blatantly say anything about it once I found out. But I honestly thought you knew about some of the members, baby girl?”

“I had no clue… I’m so sorry Binnie, Hannie..” You hear Han let out a sigh as your eyes watch Changbin’s, they stare into you less angrily but it makes the hurt more evident. You frown sadly at him and let your head hang, not sure what to do with this situation.

“It’s okay, Jagi. Now that I know you were oblivious about our feelings, I don’t think I’m as upset. More so at Channie-hyung for getting to you before us. But I’ll get over that feeling soon.. I don’t know about him though.”

The man in question’s eyes never leave your form, but he takes Han’s words to heart and takes a few deep breaths. “I don’t know. I’m quite hurt but Han is right. It’s honestly our own faults for not being clear with you.”

His words hang in the air for a while before you fix your posture and look over at Chris, meeting his eyes. He tilts his head at you, but you quickly turn to look between the other boys. “What's going on in your head, pretty?”

“Mm.. Well Channie did already spill the beans on what we spoke about.” You say, looking up at each boy before being met with confusion on each of their pretty faces. You clear your throat before continuing, “About… me being with all of you guys..” You pause once more to gauge their reactions, when you don’t see any negativity you finish your thought: “If you guys are okay with sharing, I don’t think I would mind dating all of you. At the end of the day I have been loyal to you guys anyways... So if everyone is okay with it, it could work.”

Chris’ head snaps to the couch to try and read their expressions. He can see Changbin thinking deeply about it and the faint blush on Han’s cheeks more or less gives him an answer. “Only if you guys are okay with it. I told you already, even before I knew about everybody’s feelings I was easing her into the idea of being with us all, whether that be through dating or her being our mutual friend with benefits.”

Han nods and looks over at Changbin, nervously watching his reaction as he mumbles out an “I’m okay with it.. Only if Changbin-hyung is too.” At the mention of his name, Changbin blinks multiple times to bring himself back down to earth. Once he realizes the outcome of this is in his hands, he gulps and clears his throat. “I… I don’t know..”

“If you need time to think about it, I’ll give you as much time as you need. In the meantime, Chris and I will stop everything we do and we’ll go based on what you guys are okay with.” Changbin furrows his eyebrows and looks at his hyung, who nods in agreement with your promise. “I told you, we spoke about this before. Many times actually. If enough of you weren’t okay with it, we agreed to cut things off completely for the sake of our friendships being more important.”

Changbin slowly nods, “I… I need some time to think about it.” You and Chris nod before meeting each other’s eyes for a moment. “Okay well, we should head home then. The song can wait, we’ve all had a long night.”

Everyone silently agrees and one by one the studio empties. You were the last to leave, but you quickly caught up to Changbin, wanting to have a 1 on 1 chat with him. “Binnie. I really am sorry. If I had known earlier then I wouldn’t have let us do this for so long without involving you guys. I feel horrible.”

He smiles softly at you, placing a hand on your head and massaging your scalp with his fingertips. “I know, Bunny. I’m not really mad anymore, I just don’t know if I can handle sharing you. Jisung and I spoke about it a few times but we thought it wasn’t even on the table.”

You nod and shuffle on your feet. He thinks for a moment before looking at you nervously, “Can you answer a question I have truthfully?” When you nod eagerly he continues, “...If you would date us all, as in all 8 of us.. Could you actually see yourself loving us all equally?”

You bite your lip before laughing nervously, “That’s honestly not even a question to me… I already love you all equally. I wasn’t lying when I said I had been loyal to you guys ‘anyways’. I turned down so many idols and random people on the street because I knew I had you guys. I knew how much I loved you all and I knew wasting time with these people to get over my feelings wouldn’t be worth it. So I sat patiently and waited to see how things would go.”

He lets out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding, letting out a light laugh of relief. “Can I hug you, Bunny?”

“Please.” He smiles and pulls you into his arms, the two of you stay in the embrace until Changbin gets a call from Chan, telling him that the taxi is outside and they’re waiting for him. You say your goodbyes and go your separate ways.

Now we wait..

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A few days pass as normal, and you almost forget about what happened in the studio. When you’re lounging on the couch scrolling through a streaming site, you hear your phone ding a few times and it makes your stomach drop. You drop the remote immediately and in seconds your phone is unlocked with your text messages open.

Your hand slaps over your mouth and you squeal, not being able to contain your excitement, and you spend the next few days excitedly preparing yourself for Friday night.

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When the night comes, you walk into their dorm as if it was any other day. When you meet the eyes of the men sitting at the dining table, you hesitate. All three sets of eyes look up at you, the older boys hold soft smiles while the youngest is biting his lip with red cheeks.

After some time of the awkwardness in the air fading, the four of you talk boundaries. In summary, you all agreed on:

Changbin only wants to fuck you, Chan and Jisung are open to anybody but mainly want you, and you want all 3 of them.

Specific kinks were talked about, but everyone agreed on rougher play for the night, just nothing too extreme yet. Specifically yes to spanks, rough fucking, choking, and hair pulling.

Chris closes it out with a few statements: “If, at any point, you aren’t sure to keep going, we use the traffic light system. Just ask her what her color is and she’ll respond with ‘red’ for stop, ‘yellow’ for slow down, and ‘green’ for keep going. And aftercare is a MUST. You don’t give her aftercare, you don’t get her at all.” When the other men agree, he leads you guys to the dining room where the coffee table is already moved to the side.

Before you know it, you’re sitting on their dorm’s couch, shyly playing with the strings on your sweatpants. All 3 men are standing between you and the tv, thanking every god they know that Hyunjin is out of the country for the week. Chan warily looks over his members faces, looking for any sign of hesitation. Instead he’s met with both basically eye-fucking you and Jisung already hard as a rock through his jeans. He laughs to himself quietly before looking over at you, initially looking for an unsure reaction from you as well. But when he watches your eyes jump between the other 2 and you bite your lip, he takes a breath before speaking.

“Since this would be both of your first times with her, I’ll show you all the good spots and how to play with her properly.” You roll your eyes and frown up at him from your spot on the couch. He gives you an amused smile and you watch from the corner of your eye as Changbin grabs a chair from the dining room, placing it in front of the tv so that it faces the couch. Chris swiftly pulls you to your feet before taking a seat on the chair. He pulls you into his lap and makes you face the other 2 men, who are now seated on the couch patiently waiting for the scene in front of them to unfold.

“You ready, baby?” He asked into your neck, his thick lips already placing wet kisses and his hands already pulling at the elastic of your sweats. You make a scene to hold eye contact with both men on the couch before responding to the one below you, “Yes, Daddy.” When Changbin’s eyes widen before he closes them and lays his head back, you giggle to yourself and move your eyes over to Jisung. You hear him groan and class a hand over his mouth, and when he notices your eyes are staring into his wide boba ones you smile innocently and tilt your head at him.

By the time both men recover, Chris is already pulling your sweatpants and underwear from your ankles, then moving his hands to the base of your crop top. He finally breaks away from your neck to pull it off, unintentionally showing off the red marks all over your neck to the couch. As the shirt gets pulled above your head, you hear a gasp from the couch and Chris’ voice against your ear. “And no bra? Baby.. you’re gonna kill them haha..”

You bite your lip and smile before teasing, “If they let themselves die this easily then you can have me all to yourself again.” You almost miss the way Changbin’s eyes narrow with how focused you are on Jisung’s growing pout. You hear Jisung let out a “Hey..” before you laugh and stick your tongue out at both boys. Immediately after, you feel your legs get hooked over Chris’ wide stance. 

He teases you by softly rubbing his hands against your inner thighs, nipping at your neck and ear as he does so. His left hand slowly trails up your stomach until he meets your chest and starts toying with your nipples. The hand still on your thigh trails up higher and higher until you feel him spreading your folds with his index and ring finger, using his middle finger to slide against your clit and down to your hole. You slump against him when you feel him slide two fingers in you, his thumb replacing his middle finger on your clit. You faintly hear Chris say something to the other boys about where they should try to angle their fingers. When he angles his hands the way he describes, it rips a desperate moan from your throat and your legs tighten against his.

Both boys on the couch adjust themselves in their pants at the sight of you spread so widely in front of them, Han nodding enthusiastically with each sentence that comes out of Chris’ mouth. With the fast pace his fingers set, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build up.

You feel yourself getting close and Chris catches on very fast. He pulls his fingers away and lands a smack to your inner thigh before grabbing your chin and raising an eyebrow at you. “Did I say you could come yet? You didn’t even ask permission.” You almost miss Jisung’s moan at the action, but quickly respond with a, “N-No, Daddy. I’m sorry Daddy.”

He tsks at you before softly running his hands along your thighs again, “Just because I’m showing the boys how to play with you doesn’t mean that our rules aren’t in place. Don’t be a bad girl and make me punish you in front of them already.”

“Yes, Daddy” you whine out as you nod feverishly, your orgasm fading away slowly. He hums before returning his hand to your cunt, playing with your folds as he gets lost in thought for a moment. You sigh and lean your head into his neck once releases your chin.

You almost say something about the lack of stimulation when Chris suddenly pushes you on your feet, keeping a hand on the small of your back as he quickly stands. He sits you on the chair but pulls you down so your ass is hanging off the chair, legs folded into each other as he puts you on display towards the couch. You feel butterflies in your stomach, remembering just exactly what Chris made you do the last time you both were in this position.

You shiver as his fingers softly caress your folds, he looks down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Once he realizes that you knew what his plans were, he bites his lip and smirks down at you. When your lips open to say something, he suddenly returns the 2 fingers inside your hole to prevent words from forming. You guys hold eye contact for a moment, but once his fingers dig into your gummy spot roughly, your mouth opens in a gasp and your eyebrows raise. Your eyes threaten to close as you watch him meanly mimic your facial expression and rub against the spot harder.

Your legs already start to shake and you throw your head back against the chair with a whimper, closing your eyes when the stimulation is a little too much. A firm grip in your hair pulls your face to meet his, he places a gentle kiss to your lips before adding a third finger. He ruts them into your soppy cunt over and over again until you hear him laugh when your eyes slam shut again. You’re sure both boys can hear the wet noises coming from between your legs. You wish you could see their faces, but at this point you figure Chris is trying to put on a show for them so you don’t complain.

“F-Fuck!!! Daddyyy!! I-I can’t..” You cry out, one of your hands meets his and your nails dig into his wrist as your thighs clamp shut. He pulls his fingers out and pins both your hands against the top of the chair with his spare hand. He lands a slap on your cunt and doesn’t give you time to react before he slams three fingers back in and resumes his bullying pace.

He coos at you, pressing a kiss into your calf, “You can, baby girl…” He pauses before positioning his hand so that his palm could bully against your clit with the thrusts. His tone is much darker when he continues, “I won’t stop until you do. So you better give them a pretty view, yea?” You gush more around his fingers as and when you clench harshly, he leans down to push his lips against yours.

At this point, Han has caught on to what Chris is trying to do, and he finally can’t stand the tightness in his jeans so he removes them. He quickly pushes his boxers down and can’t stop himself from fisting his cock at the sight of your cunt and ass on display for them, your wet cunt dripping down your ass as Chris continues his pace. Changbin on the other hand, isn’t fully sure what is going on. But that doesn’t stop him from palming his bulge, biting into the pointer finger on his other hand to keep quiet.

The sounds coming from you somehow get louder and you pant into Chris’ mouth, moaning against his lips as you feel the knot snap in your stomach. Suddenly you squirt all over his arm, squealing into the kiss as Chris rides your high. He fingers into you roughly before giving you a second to squirt more, then forcing more out of you. He repeats this until you pull away from his lips and gasp desperately for air, and he finally slows his hand to almost a complete stop, letting you breathe. He softly slaps your cunt as he pulls away from you fully to admire the mess you made.

“I told you, baby girl.” He laughs, ghosting his hand over your inner thigh as he watches you glisten. He pulls away from you completely, pulling his shirt off in one go and using it to wipe your thighs down and throwing it onto the puddle you made on the floor. He pulls you back to your feet, and holds you up with both hands as your legs shake aggressively, before sitting back down and resuming the earlier position: you on his lap.

He showers your neck and your cheek in kisses as your legs stay glued shut, his thighs making sure of that as they stay against yours. One of his hands holds you against him while the other caresses your hip affectionately. He knows you’re not in this plane of existence from how quiet you are, so he tries his best to ground you with as much physical touch that he can offer.

After a short while, your soul finally returns to your body. You mumble something incoherent and he takes that as a sign that you’re still there. He giggles into your neck, trailing his kisses down to your shoulder. You feel his arms tighten around you before he’s whispering against your skin, “You alright, baby? What’s your color?”

You sigh into his hold and whisper back a “Yellow.. Just give me a minute.”

Once you deem yourself ready, you let him know. He reluctantly loosens his hold on you and clears his throat, placing a final kiss on your shoulder before looking up. “Now that she’s ready for you both.. who wants to play first?” Chris asks as he eyes dart between the boys you completely forgot about. The two in question glance at each other quickly before wordlessly deciding to keep quiet and let Chris choose. Chris nods in understanding before glancing over at the youngest and watching the way he’s slowly fisting his cock as he waits for the next move. Chris very quickly thinks back to the boundaries everybody set earlier and he smirks against your shoulder. He whispers something in your ear, just low enough so neither of the other men can hear it.

But when you smile and slide off Chris' lap, softly crawling towards Changbin on all fours, both boys on the couch suddenly fix their posture. Han almost whines at the thought of Changbin getting you first until he watches the oldest stand up and saunteer towards him. He gulps and looks up at the man, biting his lip when Chris leans down and grabs his chin to hold eye contact. “You still okay with us playing a little bit, Hannie?” Not fully trusting his voice, Jisung nods eagerly and allows Chris to take control, "Please..."

While the two boys to your right get lost in each other, you sit at Changbin’s feet and look up at him with puppy dog eyes. You even go as far as to tilt your head and rest your cheek against his knee. “Hi Binnie~” You whisper out, “Can you play with me? Pleasee?”

He curses under his breath and nods, “Y-Yeah.. Yeah we can play, Bunny.” You smile in response and bite your lip, undoing his jeans before pulling them off his legs. He pulls his shirt off as you leave soft kisses up his thighs. He shudders the closer to his crotch that you get, and breathes harshly when you place a kiss to his dick through his boxers. He sighs when you back away and pull his underwear down just enough so that his dick slaps against his tummy. You pause for a second to admire his width. He’s so hard and his tip has a mean red tint; you’re almost afraid of taking him.

Suddenly the man above you laughs and pulls you up onto his lap, letting his dick rest between you two. He quickly pulls you into a kiss, running his hands up and down your sides softly. Your own hands are running up and down his biceps and squeezing, finally relishing in the feeling of his muscles against your hands. When a hand of his slides down to your ass to squeeze, you smile into the kiss and angle your head so that you are making out even deeper. It’s very short lived however, because the hand that was squeezing your ass pulls back and lands a slap to your cheek.

You jump in against him and pull away from his lips, frowning at him. He laughs at you before landing another to your other cheek. “Those are for the little comment you made earlier about Chan getting you to himself after this.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest and snapping back, “Well soooomebody doesn’t know how to take a joke.” Changbin’s mouth opens slightly and his eyes narrow dangerously at you. If it wasn’t for the fire in your abdomen that grew from his stare, you would have been terrified and apologized right away.

You quickly think that should have been the case when a hand shoots forward and clamps around your neck, squeezing tightly right off the bat. You let out a gargled noise as his other hand lands 2 harsh slaps to your ass cheeks, massaging against them right after. “I’m sorry... What was that?”

Jisung and Chris pull a few inches away from each other at the sound. Jisung’s hips buck up into Chris’ hand and he lets out a pathetic whine at the sight of your ass cheeks already turning a darker red. The man above him lets out an exasperated laugh before saying “Oh yeah, I should’ve warned you two that she can be a stupid brat sometimes. I would say I’d teach you how to deal with it, but it seems like you got it under control already. You know what to do, baby. Be a good girl for Binnie, or else I'll handle you myself.” Changbin steals a confused glance at his hyung before returning his gaze to you, loosening his grip on your neck to give you more breathing room. He watches your eyes meet Chan's and you gulp deeply before wresting your hands on his chest.

“‘M sorry Binnie. I’ll be good now I promise.” His hand loosens the grip on your neck you all the way at your puppy dog eyes stare into his, but they stay resting against your throat as Chris speaks up again. “Not ‘Binnie’ baby.” Your eyes meet Chris’ again and he smiles at you teasingly, his hands still stroking Jisung at a slow pace that has the boy whining into his hand. You bite your lip at the sight of Jisung looking fucked out already and turn back to Changbin and retry, “I’m sorry sir. I’ll behave now.” You watch Changbin swallow thickly before leaning his head sideways and letting out a curse.

“Atta girl, baby.” Chris says, before turning back to the squirming boy below him.

Changbin quickly mutters an ‘Up’ before you climb out of his lap to stand in front of him. He quickly swaps spots with you, making you sit on the couch as he stands above you, kneeling against the cough to ground himself. He strokes himself a few times, not bothering to prepare you any more than Chan did already. He pulls your legs up and holds them near your chest, and then he finally sinks himself into you. He keeps his eyes on your face the whole time, mainly watching for possible comfort changes in your expression. But when your jaw drops at the stretch and you take over his hold on your legs, he can’t help himself from staring for other reasons. While you’re busy hugging your legs into yourself, he trails a hand to your mouth and positions his thumb to press down on your tongue. With every inch of his duck entering you, you swear you lose another piece of your mind. And after what feels like forever, his hips finally meet the backs of your thighs

He lets out a shaky sigh and lightly thrusts into you, testing the waters before pulling out farther and setting a calm pace. For a while, he softly thrusts into you, just savoring the feeling and sight of your tight cunt around his dick. It’s not until you let out a whine that his eyes return to your face. His hips stutter and he watches in awe as he pulls his thumb from your drooly mouth. While that thumb moves down to draw circles onto your clit, you look up at him pleadingly before begging so sweetly. “Please, Sir. Please I promised I’d be good. Just fuck me hard, please please please.”

From the other side of the couch, Chris’ ears perk up at the sound of your begging. He chuckles breathlessly and it takes everything in him to keep his eyes on the pretty boy who’s on his knees below him. “F-Fuck. Bin I usually have to overstimulate her for her to beg like that. You must’ve fucked her stupid already.”

Changbin’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the sentence and he starts up a rough pace, pounding into you fast before responding, “Y-Yeah? You think so?”

You throw your head into the couch at the new rhythm, nails digging into your legs at the stimulation. After squirting like that earlier, you’re not sure you can last very long and that’s made even more true by the sloppy presses you feel on your clit. Not long after this pace was set, you feel yourself rapidly approaching your high.

You manage out a: “Binnie- S-Sir, can I cum please.. I want you to cum inside… I’ve b-been good, right?” and he groans in response, nodding his head and leaning into you, his fingers never leaving your cunt and his pace never faltering. “Yeah, baby. Don’t worry, Binnie’s got you.” His body weight on your legs gives you an uncomfortable stretch, but when his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss, you can’t find it in you to complain. Almost immediately after that, his spare hand leaves a slap to your ass, and you cum on impact. Your lips detach from his as you let out desperate wails, trying to take deep breaths while he slows his pace to make slower but deeper thrusts into you. His gaze meets your teary eyes before he dips to your neck, biting and sucking marks onto the skin. He follows suit not long after, groaning and biting harder subconsciously as he rides out his high.

You lay against each other, catching your breaths before you let out a pained whine. “Binnieee… my legs..” His mind is still foggy from that strong of an orgasm, so it takes him a second to pull away. Once he does, he softly rests your legs against the couch and massages the muscles, already knowing which ones would be hurting. He watches your mixtures of cum ooze out of your cunt, and onto the couch. He would normally freak out at such a viscous substance getting the couch dirty, but his zips his mouth shut and watches in awe for a moment. You don’t fully notice when he walks away due to getting distracted by the other end of the couch.

Chris let out a few gasps that turn to groans, signaling that he’s dangerously close. You quickly turn your head to watch as Jisung deep throats him all the way, even gagging a few times. You whine out something along the lines of, “That’s so hot..” but it meets none of their ears as Jisung’s nails rake down Chris’ thighs, his hips buckling as he cums hard. He throws his head back and holds a firm grip on Jisung’s permed hair as he thrusts softly into his mouth, quickly angling his head back towards the boy to watch him swallow around his length. Slowly the grip on the younger’s hair loosens, and you and Chris watch the boy on the floor with lidded eyes. Jisung hollows his cheeks and slowly pulls off the eldest’s dick, he matches the older’s gaze and shows off the contents on his tongue before making a show of swallowing it, showing his empty tongue after. Chris throws a hand over his eyes and whines, resting his head against the back cushion as you sit there and laugh. You and Jisung meet each other’s eyes before you wink at the boy, blowing him a kiss with a fucked out smile on your face.

By now Changbin is returning to the living room with a warm cloth, wiping you down gently before throwing it onto the pile of your clothes. Chris disappears to his room to grab shirts of his for you and Jisung while Changbin throws the scattered clothes of yours into his own hamper, and Jisung’s into his hamper. While the two eldest members run around cleaning, and preparing blankets and snacks for a cuddle session, you and Jisung embrace each other on the couch. You rest your head against his shoulder as your breaths even out. You could fall asleep at this point, but you’re quickly distracted by the boy’s bulge in his underwear.

“Hannie… you’re still hard?” You laugh. His cheeks and ears turn red before he laughs too. “Yeah… I came in the beginning, but watching you and Changbin-hyung while watching Channie-hyung come undone got me hard again. It was all just too hot..” You laugh into his shoulder but trail one of your hands to the bulge, trailing a featherlight touch that has the boy’s thighs clamping together. “Can I help you then, Hannie? Me and you didn’t get to play. I can’t go another round but I’ll happily suck you off.”

You hear a shaky breath as his hips buck against your hand. “Fuck,, Yes please, baby.” Giggling, you drop down to your knees for a 2nd time tonight, pulling his boxers down just enough to free his cock. You take it in your hands and pump it, placing teasing kisses up and down his shaft. You smirk against him when you feel his hand slip into your hair, grabbing a tight but not painful grip as a warning to stop teasing. You hum and lick a long stripe until you reach his tip, placing a final kiss there before you take him all the way to the hilt. The grip in your hair tightens as you hum and hold your spot against his pubic bone, some of the hair there tickling your nose. You hollow your cheeks and swallow around him a few times before pulling away, stroking him while you rasp out, “You wanna fuck my mouth baby?"

You swear his eyes sparkle as he nods enthusiastically. His hands quickly move to rest against the back of your head, “Hit my thigh a few times if you need a break, ok?” You nod and smile up at him, happy that he still genuinely cares about your well being. Your smile fades as he moves your head against him, slowly fucking your mouth against his dick as he lets out a sigh. You hollow out your cheeks and feel the grip on your head get harder. He starts fucking himself into your throat, using all his will power to not do it as rough as he wanted to, ‘We can save that for another day’ he argues to himself. It doesn’t take long for him to reach his high, his thighs shaking as memories of what happened less than 10 minutes ago resurface to his mind.

He goes to pull you away as he cums, but you swat his hands away and take matters into your own hands, literally. One of your hands trails up his stomach, your nails ghosting around his chest as your other hand reaches up to fondle his balls. It’s all so sudden and he chokes on his own drool when he tries to warn you that he’s cumming, but regardless you swallow every last drop. Once his hips relax back into the couch, you pull back so that only the tip is in your mouth, sucking hard to get every last drop and he lets out the whiniest cry you’ve ever heard.

As the older boys return with blankets and snacks, you and Jisung pull away from each other. Eventually everybody is settled and a movie is chosen, the four of you cuddle up to each other and relax. Han is laying with his head against your chest when he suddenly lets out a laugh that startles your sleepy form. The three of you look down at him with different confused expressions before he chuckles to himself again.

“The others are missing out sooo bad.”

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•

#stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #skz smut #skz imagines #3racha x reader #3racha smut #changbin x reader #changbin smut #chan x reader #chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut

[munariplans]

forty, love | natasha romanoff

synopsis: winning was everything, and losing was a sin. unfortunately, you were on a losing streak, and natasha loved winning.

natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader

word count: 4.9k words

a/n: inspired by that one scene from challengers.

read part 2

masterlist

“slice forehand.”

thwock. 

“inside-out forehand.”

another thwock.

“move to the volley. hurry. your feet aren’t keeping up.”

despite the insult, the thwock lands. the ball bounces and hits right where you want it to hit. the singular drop of sweat that dripped onto the ground between your feet is not wasted, as you look up to your performance coach across the net, unamused sneer hidden behind his thick moustache. 

“not fast enough?” you quipped. 

he sighed, shaking his head. “don’t get ahead of yourself. you’re still number 2 in the state. if you want a shot at beating the princeton team, you’re still going to have to move much faster than that.”

you wiped the beads of sweat on your forehead, fixing the slightly loose hair tie, before nodding understandingly. still, you weren’t too happy at his latest onslaught of insults this past session. “you could have at least given me credit for the dropshot earlier when you came in. it was perfect.”

“perfect shots don’t get you the win. defeating your opponent does.”

he signalled that practice was over for the day, and you walked off court at the same time as he did to gather your things. the woman watching from the stands stood at that moment, and began her descent down to meet you in the locker room. 

natasha romanoff walked up behind you as you changed, the sudden feeling of her hands on your bare skin a welcomed intrusion, as you sighed into her touch. she let herself have her hands full for a minute, roaming over your muscles until she was satisfied, before settling them on the edge of your shoulders, massaging the tight knots out of them. you were still so tense.

she pressed her lips lovingly on a scar, waiting for you to finish panting at the feeling of where her hands had been. “you were great out there today.”

“coach said otherwise.”

“mm,” she let you put on your shirt, turning you around to kiss you after, “you were fighting him back just as hard. are you okay?”

you zipped up your bag then, taking a moment to avoid her question, before, “do you think i’m like what he says? what they all say…?”

natasha motioned for you to continue. “that i’m all bark, no bite, now? that i’ve lost my mojo?”

“baby–”

“–because you can tell me straight up. i can take it. you’re my girlfriend, you can tell me, i can take it.” the room had suddenly gotten tense, a stark drop to your composure that you had managed to hide so well on the court. in the locker rooms, you were angry again. you had been angry for a while now. 

“losing a few matches isn’t going to hurt your record, baby. you’re this college’s star player, you know this.”

“but losing four matches in a row is going to shatter my ego. my confidence. you of all people should know this!”

you had backed away from natasha, eyebrows raised, posture standoffish. she hated this. she hated seeing you like this. as bad as it was to say, she hated seeing you lose. it was the worst part of yourself that you let her see, when you lost. but what was she, as a partner, if not to stand by you through your career, your ups and down? she should be sharing your pain, taking some burden off of your shoulders, at the very least. 

“just last week, i let it go to break point, and i still fucking lost!” you had raised your fist at this point, nearly punching it at the steel frames of the lockers, when you reminded yourself of just the complications that could arise from shattered knuckles. your coach would never let this go. but still, the gesture was there, and the fire in your eyes remained all too dangerous. 

suddenly, you were pressed against the lockers, the weight of natasha’s body engulfing yours, as her arms came to hold you tight against herself. you were forced to embrace her back, despite your slight protests and pleas, but she was having none of it. she had wrapped you up in her tight, strong embrace, and her hands were finding themselves to bring your face towards hers, eyes boring into your own. 

“nat–”

“–last week, last week, you were against a professional, baby. a nearly retired one at that, but she was fighting for wins at the australian open not too long ago. she’s been doing this longer than you have even started learning how to hit the ball. don’t be so hard on yourself, will you? nobody, nobody else, could have gotten to where you were with her. break point is a feat in itself.”

you didn’t look convinced. but she didn’t need you to look convinced; she needed you to listen. “do you understand? you need to look at things from a different perspective, from my perspective. not your coach’s, not your teammates, certainly not that player’s fucking groupies, who were gloating about your loss all the way out of the stadium. you need to believe in yourself, as i have always believed in you. and you can’t keep going on like this. do you understand me?”

natasha’s eyes never departed from yours, her gaze firm. her hands were shaking, a little unsure of your reaction, because as far as she knew, you didn’t look like you were going to back down from a fight. either with yourself or her, she didn’t know. she certainly hoped it was at least the latter.

but then, your gaze cast downwards, you nodded ashamedly. sighing into the air, you pressed your face into the crook of her neck for a moment, the height advantage letting you lift her up, and she cooed as she let you gather yourself. 

“i understand.”

she patted the back of your head. like a mother would a petulant, but repenting child. “good. now let’s go get dinner, then a massage for your shoulders. then back to the gym first thing tomorrow morning.”

– 

natasha watched you push around your vegetables for nearly half of dinner. she knew the campus meal tickets didn’t exactly provide for five-star dishes, but she had never seen you so down like this before. it was almost as if you had become a ghost of yourself. 

“steve’s birthday is coming up soon.” she decided to change the topic, and hopefully, get your mind off of tennis for a minute. 

you gave a nonchalant grunt, finally stabbing the piece of broccoli. she steadied herself. “should we get him the pair of boots he’s always wanted? i figured we could pull in wanda and clint too, if we want to get him a bigger gift.”

your eyes were still unfocused. it was as if she wasn’t there at all. “baby.”

you looked up, half-expecting natasha to be pissed. but she only gave you a small smile. “steve’s birthday?”

“we can get him the boots. i don’t mind paying for them. but i don’t think i’m going to his party.”

“why not? your match on that day ends in the afternoon.”

“yeah, but i think i’m going to be pretty tired.” not to mention if i lose.

natasha decided not to argue with you on it. she knew enough how touchy the subject of your career already was. instead, she jabbed the last piece of corn with her fork, and gestured for your mouth to open. 

the both of you left shortly after. 

– 

in a friendly match the next weekend with the neighbouring college, you were faced up against the top ranking player once more. being a finals round, you had imagined that the crowd would be roaring with applause for how far you’d come, but when the sets began to balance after your first few strong starts and the heat of the afternoon sun began beating on everyone’s backs, the crowd dwindled out one by one from boredom and, to you at least, the possible disappointment of you losing. 

it was only expected, from a disenchanted champion. the college’s once pride and joy, the one who was once regarded as a candidate with potential to win grand slams. unfortunately, people only really like you when you win. 

but natasha stayed. and so did her friends, and your friends that she had managed to force to stay. you had gestured that they could leave if they wanted to, during the breaks, but they were afraid to even nod, or make a move, lest they wanted to be subjected to natasha’s ferocity, sitting behind them. it was almost humiliating that they stayed only because your girlfriend was forcing them to, you thought. 

thwock. a missed shot from your end.

another thwock. “out!”

by your last mistake, the crowd had only left natasha, steve, and some die-hard groupies of yours that were slowly losing hope too. so when the final set was determined by your failure to execute a passing shot, and subsequently touching the net, the roars from the other side seemed almost mocking. you had lost. 

natasha rushed down to the locker rooms again, only this time, your friends followed, and the absolute mortification that you felt, along with the pure anger and frustration of losing, overpowered any remaining sense of decency you had left. 

the moment you spotted her coming in, then the company behind her, you almost felt like the first time the instinct to shatter your racket came to you. 

“out! all of you, out!” you had screamed, not caring to be decent even to your teammates. 

“come on, we just wanted–”

“–i don’t care, out! you’ve just come in here to humiliate me, haven’t you? gloating how i could lose, even in a friendly! how shit of a player i am, now!”

the people behind natasha grumbled, but one by one shuffled out. it was better to tell you about how unfair you were being another day, not when emotions were running so high. natasha was thankful they understood. but it didn’t make what you did any less unfair.

she sat beside you as you kept your head down. “that wasn’t very nice.”

“losing isn’t very nice.”

“they meant well, baby.”

“no, they don’t.”

“how many times do i have–”

“–a ton, okay, natasha?” you looked up, slamming your drink between the both of you. “a ton of times, you have to remind me. that my friends love me, that they’re here to support me. but how the fuck am i supposed to believe that when i don’t even have anything for them to support me for?”

“your friends don’t just love you because you’re good at tennis, my love. i don’t love you just because you’re good at tennis. this is ridiculous! i can’t believe we are arguing over this, i can’t believe you think of yourself so lowly like this.”

natasha was met with a deafening silence the moment she finished her last words, her chest heaving up and down from her own disappointment. the rest of the players had filtered out, upon hearing your argument, leaving only you and her there. like always. 

your hand rubbed over your face resignedly, hands covering the beautiful eyes natasha loved loves staring into. she wanted to reach out, to pull your hands away from yourself, to even get you to answer her, to let her know that you at least believed you were better than this. but she was afraid of the answer she was going to get. 

then, she heard a sniffle, and a small, choked sob afterwards. and that was it. 

you were up standing the next second, and slinging your racket bag over your shoulder. “i’m going to the gym. i know you have class after this. don’t wait up.”

she was left there alone, the dismay and disappointment of it all weighing down on her, the moment the doors to the locker room were slammed. 

– 

i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that, i apologised to my friends, now i want to apologise to you. i love you, i’m sorry. the words didn’t seem enough. the guilt that accumulated and eventually avalanched into your heart was almost insurmountable, after the incident with  natasha. you weren’t even sure you were worthy of being forgiven, you thought as you sat in your car later that night, still angry at her, but making sure that she was safe in the short walk home from her class to her dorm. 

which was why you found yourself in the florist off campus a few days later, asking the employee what flowers best represented i’m sorry for being such a terrible girlfriend, and which flowers were most likely going to help you be forgiven. the white and blue carnations reminded you of the colours in natasha’s room. 

“how much is it?” you asked, to which the cashier then showed you the till. you cursed internally, not even knowing flowers were so expensive nowadays.

checking the contents of your wallet for a minute, you cursed even louder at yourself at the emptiness that greeted you. losing matches meant losing money, that was for sure, and it wasn’t a secret that you were mostly funding your life with prize money won from big matches in the state, with college at least funded with the athlete’s scholarship. yet another reason why i can’t keep doing this, you thought.

it was between dinner for the next few days and gas for your car, and the flowers. fuck it, skipping dinners once in a while wouldn’t hurt, and you could walk from place to place. 

you handed over your card, and began the walk to natasha’s dorm. 

when she received you, natasha noticed you looked almost like a kicked puppy, none of the anger or smugness you carried with you on and off the court. no, with her, you were soft, and vulnerable, and all-too pitiful for her love. she knows the power she has over you. she never had to worry. 

so she brought you in, allowed you to apologise, to beg at her feet, and for her mercy and forgiveness. she allowed you to worship her, taking her to her bed and whispering how much you messed up to her skin, how much you loved her when you were making her see stars, how much you thought you would hurt yourself if she ever left you when she was chanting your name over and over again, begging you to let her come undone.

– 

steve’s birthday rolled around, and natasha was once again seated in the front row for you. she never missed your matches. 

you thought she should have missed this one, when the match reached a break point and you lost again. when you had gotten so frustrated, so furious, over a careless choke that you had, that you received a punishment for smashing your racket into bits as the opponent screamed in celebration. 

she came down to sit with you in the locker room after, but it was in silence. there was nothing to say, and nothing to be said. there were tears streaming down your face, dripping onto the floor. your vision was obscured by the tears, and you would have lost yourself if not for the hand that was holding your own, firm, steadfast. somewhere along the line, she was kissing you, then slowly pushing for you to get up, and bringing you to her dorm. you didn’t really remember anything more after that, busy curling into a ball and crying yourself to sleep afterwards.

when she woke you again to accompany her to steve’s party, you felt almost bad that the ringing in your ears hadn’t gone away, and so had your misery from the match earlier. but natasha needed a ride, and you weren’t going to let her drive back later if she had been drinking for the night. 

– 

you encouraged natasha to mingle around at the party, and to not worry about you, as you stuck around your few friends for a bit. she was unsure, but you were firm, and soon enough, she too had disappeared into the crowd.

your eyes never left her after you found her again, though, leaning back into a pillar as your friend sam went on and on about his own matches so far. you didn’t have the heart, or energy, to tell him that tennis was the last thing you wanted to talk about right then. 

she was by the birthday boy, his arm slung around her waist as the both of them guzzled down cups and cups of spiked punch. their circle was closely-knit, you had always known this, but somehow, the lingering touches, and his hand slowly travelling up and down her back, was ticking you off this time. you had almost half a mind to ask steve what he thought he was doing, but you knew natasha would get embarrassed, and upset. you knew you already made her upset enough today. 

but then, sam quipped, “they’ve been awfully close lately, haven’t they?”

he must have forgotten he was talking to natasha’s girlfriend, of all people, as he continued, “steve’s on a winning streak recently. on track to become valedictorian, potentially getting drafted by the top teams next season, it’s only a matter of time before he wants someone by his side to share it with too, huh?”

“...right.”

“you know how natasha likes winners,” he hit your elbow playfully, breath reeking of alcohol and other illegal substances, “she just loves the game. i bet that’s how you got her to fall for you too.”

“not my good looks, or horrible attitude to anything outside of tennis?” you tore your eyes away from natasha for a moment to glare at sam. he chuckled. 

“i’m just saying, better to keep your girl by your side, future federer.” he disappeared shortly after, and when you found natasha again, she was laughing and putting her head on steve’s shoulder. 

instead of feeling angry this time, you were dejected, and a little bit ashamed. of course. natasha liked winners. and you certainly weren’t one anymore. 

you bit back a harsh breath, and went outside to get some fresh air when steve stole a glance at her that was far too intimate to be one of merely friends. you should have known. if she wasn’t winning with you, she was winning with someone else, somewhere else. 

that night, for the first time in your career, and relationship, you thought about retiring.

– 

but when the competition season rolled around, and the WTAs approaching, you had managed to pull yourself up in the rankings enough to secure a spot at a challengers’ round to hopefully beat princeton and start a domino effect that could lead you to participating in a grand slam. 

natasha was walking beside you, struggling to keep up as she checked your schedule haphazardly. “the princeton girl, she’s on the other side of the roster. i doubt the two of you would be playing each other unless she reaches the finals too. which…at this point…”

you didn’t want to know if she meant that you wouldn’t stand a chance of reaching the finals, or that the princeton champion would be knocked out early. you were afraid you knew the answer. 

steve had dropped her off at the stadium when you went outside to pick her up, his smug smile as he waved her goodbye, and his eyes following yours, making you want to reach over inside the car and beating him with your racket. you had to arrive earlier to discuss strategy with your coaches, and while you were more than willing to pay for natasha’s ride in, she had mentioned that steve would be dropping her off. she sounded almost excited, so you dropped the topic and went back to your practice. like you have been doing for the past few months. 

turns out it wasn’t so hard to succeed, and win matches, when you were more or less resigned to your fate that nobody was ever going to expect anything more of you from your streak of losses all those matches ago, and you had effectively lost the love of your life to some football player who kept winning, and winning. 

you were at a challenger’s round this time, so you didn't need to worry. you won, and won, and won a little bit more. 

–

thwock. right over the net. the opponent misses and falls to her knees.

a serve that would have made williams roar in awe. thwock.

last one. the set was done if you landed this one. thwock. 

the ball landed inside the court, right by the opponent’s feet. and you advanced to the finals. 

you remembered natasha rushing down, not even waiting until you entered the locker room. she was running, running, and jumping into your arms, kissing you like her life depended on it. you spun her around, giving her a smug smile, trying to hide a bleeding heart that knew she too, was surprised that you ever stood a chance of winning. 

the crowd roared behind you. people were liking you again. but you had never felt worse. 

–

it turned out that the princeton champion had advanced to the finals, and would be playing against you, after all. there was no surprise for her, but certainly a surprise for you, as the newscasters and fans had aptly put, a grand shocker. they had all thought you had seen your glory days over. 

natasha caught you watching the latest telecast from the hotel’s television, gaze zeroed in on the anchor who was comparing your statistics over the last few games. almost perfect scores. leaving opponents with loves in sets. behind her, were the students of your college, decked out in the colour of the university and your face and initials printed on their shirts, caps, flags. all of it. they had never looked more proud. the college had even rolled out a banner in your name, in lieu of the upcoming finals. you knew natasha enjoyed all of it more than you did. 

when it came to the broadcast from princeton, the college’s president had come to give a special interview. he mentioned that he never doubted his champion from the start, unlike what your college had to go through with you. you found yourself wanting to spit at the television. 

but from behind, the sound of running water from the shower had stopped, and she had come out, in a robe and her wet hair in a towel. she saw the glazed look in your eyes, and promptly picked up the remote to shut the programme off. 

she settled into the spot beside you, nuzzling into your comfort. she had to pull your own arms off of the couch to wrap around her. you thought she must have known. she couldn’t be so stupid. she knew that you knew about her, and what she had always liked. 

but then you remembered, beyond the resentment, and grief, of the past few months, of just what she had been through with you. when you lost your very first match in college, natasha had been your friend, still. she was dating the captain of the basketball team, you remembered, but she had gone with you afterwards to walk the long way home, encouraging you and telling you that it would get better. it always would. you only half-believed her.

but then, you won. and won, and won, and won. by the tenth streak of winning, natasha had broken up with said boyfriend, and began hanging around your dorm, the tennis courts, even the cafeterias more often. she went where you went, showed up to most of your games, was the loudest one in the crowd when you secured sets. she would wait for you after your mini celebratory sessions with your teammates, and fans, and friends, all for a moment alone with you. then, she would bring you out for drinks, for dinners, sometimes the occasional walk down memory lane to her dorm. she was kind, she made you laugh, and you were on a streak. so what was there stopping you? 

you fell for her just as easily as you fell in love with winning.

to your surprise, she stuck around when you lost a few matches along the way, never letting it phase her, or you. to everyone else’s surprise, she stuck around when you twisted your ankle in your second year of playing. she had left a pattern in her wake, you see, of leaving all of her past lovers when the going got tough, or when they had simply stopped winning. it was inevitable, you thought. but no, not this time. when you fell to your knees during that tournament, screaming in agony as your ankle felt like it was folding in on itself, she was there. she was right beside the medical officer, holding you up as he inspected the injury, face looking even more panicked than yours as they wheeled you off to the hospital. 

she was there, as they wheeled you in for surgery, and wheeled you out to recover. she never left, even when the doctors told you it would take months to recover, let alone get back to playing on your level. she helped you recover, was the driving force in your physical therapy success, even became the sole reason that you returned to playing so quickly after your injury. you hadn’t wanted to disappoint her, much less lose her at all. you were too afraid of the possibility of her becoming someone else’s because of your failure in your sport.

natasha stayed through your losing streak. she never got mad, or lost her patience, with you. it had been three years now, with her. she had never lasted in a relationship so long, so had you. she had talked about getting married before, right after college, to which you had entertained, but still never gotten the full grasp of. how could she talk about marrying you, with such a reputation that preceded her? what if you had lost, would she have run off before the altar?

what if you lost tomorrow? you looked at her again, this time, and she was on her phone. she was texting your friends to make sure they came for your match tomorrow. you felt horrible.

“nat.”

she looked up. “yes?”

“tell me it doesn’t matter.” 

natasha sat up this time, her hand holding yours. she looked confused. “what doesn’t matter?” “whether i win or lose tomorrow.”

her face remained unchanged for a moment, but at the quiver of your lip, and the coldness in your hands, she broke her composure. she shook her head slowly, gaze steely. “no.”

“why not?” it was your turn to harden the look on your face. “why won’t you tell me at least that?”

“because,” she bit the inside of her cheek, “you’re the professional. you’ll tell me whether it matters or not.”

you sat up as well. “i just want to know that you’ll love me…no matter what…whether i win or lose tomorrow.”

natasha’s eyes suddenly couldn’t meet yours. she looked down, at your shirt, then away, but never back at you. you pleaded, “natasha, please.”

“no,” she remained firm, “no. i won’t tell you that, because i know you’ll beat her. you’ll win tomorrow. and you’ll go to the grand slams, you’ll be the best tennis player that’s ever played in them, and you’re going to win. every. single. one. of. them.”

“and what if i don’t? not even the grand slams, not even tomorrow? what if i come in second again, after all this time?” 

you were growing desperate, and she was growing distant. you suddenly thought that you would have done anything, absolutely anything then, for her to tell you what you wanted to hear. to tell you that she would love you no matter if you won or lost.

natasha watched as you dropped to your knees in front of her, eyes already teary. your hands scrambled to hold her shirt, her waist, any part of her. she held them back, but to stop you from reaching further. then, she held your face again, but this time, it was you that was begging for her. you looked downright pitiful.

she wiped the stray tear off your cheek. she knew what she was going to say would either make or destroy you. “i’ll tell you this instead.”

“please.”

“baby, if you lose the match tomorrow, i’m leaving you. for good.”

– 

thwock. thwock. thwock. 

princeton parried, the ball is sent to the line. you return it with ease. princeton flicks back, you work twice as hard to send it over.

your moves were clean, cleaner than ever before, aided by a brain filled with rage and a heart filled with fear. 

princeton served, out. you served, in. the advantage stood, and the crowd stood to cheer. princeton hit back, you hit harder. it was a game both colleges hadn’t seen in decades. there were talks of both of you dominating the grand slams, even possibly working together, even being the next best duo to ever hit the sport. 

break point. the ball whizzes. and finally…after all the pain, the fear, the lost matches and the weight of the world on your shoulders, it was over. 

you weren’t quick enough. princeton won. 

a/n: i just love pathetic, pitiful characters who are down so bad for natasha romanoff, is that so wrong?

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe #tennis player! reader #challengers

[runninriot]

written for the @steddiesongfics may prompt

(David Bowie - Absolute Beginners, 1986)

wc: 1986 | rated: t | tags: Steddie in love, newly established relationship, fluff, background characters, Good Uncle Wayne Munson | also on ao3

As long as we’re together, the rest can go to hell

Waking up in Eddie’s arms for the first time feels unreal. Like maybe he’s not really awake after all. Maybe Steve’s still stuck in a beautiful dream and the sound of the other man’s peaceful breathing is just a fragment of his imagination. But he can feel Eddie’s chest rise and fall beneath his head, can feel the comfortable weight of Eddie’s arm on his back, the soothing warmth of his skin.

Maybe it is real.

Maybe they actually, finally got their shit together – as Robin would say.

    God, Robin would be so smug if she could see him right now, nuzzling Eddie’s skin, sinking deeper into the sleeping man’s arms.

She’d known there was something going on, told him so but never pushed. Even before that night Eddie came out to them a few months back. Where Robin told him her secret, too, and Steve didn’t even know he had one of his own to share.

Before Steve realised what that funny feeling was. What it meant to have a riot of butterfly wings create a storm in his stomach, to have his heartbeat set the rhythm to a song he’s never heard before.

Man, she will be so proud of herself when- if they tell her.

They will tell her, right?

They’ll them all – Robin, Nance, the kids...

Dustin.

    Oh God, what will Dustin say if they tell him that they’re-

Together?

Are they together?

Is this- Is this what they are?

It must be, right?

Eddie told him he loves him. Kept repeating the words over and over again between kisses. Said it so many times, Steve had no reason to believe it wasn’t true.

It must be true because Steve wants it to be true.

Eddie is-

This isn’t just a stupid crush, some made-believe infatuation with his high school sweetheart. Steve isn’t a stupidly naive teenager anymore. He knows the difference between simply searching for affection and truly wanting to be with someone.

He is in love with Eddie. That’s a fact. Unshakeable like the fact that water is wet, the sun is hot, and the moon is 238.700 miles away from earth (yes, he does listen to Dustin ramble about his stupid nerd interests sometimes, thank you very much).

He’s in love and although this is all very scary and new, he wants their friends to know about them. Wants them to be happy for them.

But what if they’re not?

What if the fact that he’s in love with another man gives Mike one more reason to hate him? What if Lucas refuses to let Steve coach him because of it? What if it doesn’t work out and Dustin has to choose between him and Eddie? What if-

   “I can hear you think.”

Steve startles when Eddie tightens his arms around him, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. And when he looks up at Eddie, Steve finds two sleepy eyes blinking back at him.

   “Morning, baby,” Eddie says through a smile and-

Steve’s heart immediately does that thing again and there’s this familiar feeling in his gut, and Eddie looks so soft in the warm morning light that Steve just can’t not kiss him.

   “Morning,” Steve finally answers when they part – Eddie’s hand still holding his face, beautiful eyes looking right into his soul, and Steve feels like flying.

   “Hm, so that’s not what it’s about, huh?”

Steve’s confused, doesn’t know what Eddie is talking about and it must show on his face because Eddie chuckles before he continues.

   “For a moment I was scared you’ve gotten all nervous and fidgety because you were- I don’t know. That maybe you had doubts. About this?” He moves his free hand between the two of them, pointing at himself and back at Steve.

   “But I guess you kissing me despite my morning breath must mean you-“

Steve shuts him up with another press of lips, morning breath be damned. He won’t give Eddie any reason to even think for another second that he doesn’t want this. Because he does. He wants this, them, together. Probably more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life.

He shakes his head, doesn’t know how to express all those things that are rattling his mind. How to tell Eddie what goes on in his head without stumbling over the words, without twisting his tongue, without making a fool of himself because-

They’ve only just woken up and it’s the first time they’re in bed together and instead of just enjoying the moment, instead of being in the here and now, Steve is already like, 238.700 steps ahead.

   “Talk to me, Stevie. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Steve slowly relaxes into the pleasant feeling of Eddie’s fingers gently scraping along the back of his neck like he’s trying to coax the words out of him, trying to help slow down his racing thoughts. And somehow, it works.

   “I was just-“ Steve takes a deep, grounding breath, “I was just wondering if we should tell the others. About us. A-about us being... boyfriends?”

Steve feels heat spreading in his face, feels the blush creep from his cheeks to his ears.

He didn’t mean to make it sound like a question but they haven’t really defined what they are, yet. They’ve been way too busy making out, kissing, touching – God, how could he not have been completely distracted by the way Eddie kissed him. The way he painted his neck in love-coloured bruises. How he worshipped Steve’s whole body with his lips like he was something special, something worth taking his time with.

And oh, his time he took, that teasing bastard. Made it his mission to kiss every goddamn mole and freckle on Steve’s body. Started counting them with his lips, his tongue, tracing his fingers over every inch of his exposed skin. Kissed him where no one had ever kissed him before, his touch so careful and gentle it only made Steve crazy for more, more, more.

By the time Eddie finally put his mouth on him, Steve was already so far gone that it took not even 30 seconds for him to lose it. But then Eddie didn’t give him a chance to feel embarrassed about it, just kept kissing him, touching him, showering him in sweet little nothings that meant everything to Steve.

   “Steve? You with me?”

    Hm? Oh.

   “S-sorry. What did you say?” Steve smiles apologetically, relieved when Eddie chuckles lightly.

   “I said. Yes, boyfriends. If you want that? And yes to telling people. God, I can’t wait to see Dustin’s stupid little face when he hears that I, Eddie Munson, get to date the hottest guy in Hawkins. Hell, the hottest guy in the entire fucking world!”

Eddie balls his fist and punches the air like he’s just won a competition, and the excitement in his voice is infectious, startles a loud and very unsexy snort out of Steve.

   “Take that, Dustin! So much for teasing me for my lack of success in the dating department. Ha! Oh, but Mike will be devastated. Everyone knows he’s got the biggest crush on you.”

   “What?! Shut up, he does not!” Steve is screeching now, tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.

   “You think I’m lying? Ask Lucas! He was the one that told me. Said he doesn’t quite get it but Lucas only has eyes for Max so, of course he doesn’t.”

   “Eddie, stop! I don’t believe it. Mike hates me! Sometimes I could swear he’s doing his best to pretend I don’t even exist.”

   “Tell yourself whatever makes you feel good, baby,” Eddie winks, smiles so bright it’s like he’s the sun himself. Bright like the sun and just as hot.

(How hot is the sun? Dustin will know, he’ll ask him next time he sees him.)

   “Robin will be a tough one, though.”

   “Huh? Robin? She’s literally one of us, Eds. Why should she of all people have any problem with us being together?”

Eddie must sense his concern, because he glides his thumb over Steve’s furrowed brows to smooth out the worry lines, kisses him on the forehead like that’s gonna stop his mind from reeling.

Weirdly enough, it does.

   “Well, duh! She’ll be so happy for you. It’s me I’m worried about.”

Eddie winks at him and that’s when Steve finally catches on. He huffs out a laugh, rolls his eyes in fake-annoyance, can’t not smile when Eddie offers him the saddest, most convincing puppy eyes he’s ever seen.

   “She’s going to kill me if I ever so much as make you mad or, god forbid, sad for whatever reason.”

   “Oh that’s easy to avoid. Just never make me mad or sad and you’ll be fine,” Steve mocks him, knows deep down Eddie would never anyway.

   “What about-“ Steve realises he hasn’t even thought about that before.

They’re at the trailer. Steve heard Wayne come home from his night shift a while ago, knows the man’s still awake, considering the noise coming from the outside Eddie’s bedroom.

   “Do you want to tell Wayne? It’s okay if not. We don’t- We can just pretend nothing has changed. I don’t want him to get mad. Or, or worse.”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to look worried and Steve gets it. He couldn’t even think about telling his own parents. His father would- No, he’ll just have to keep this from them. Not like they ever really care for what goes on in his life anyway.

   “Come on.”

    What?

Eddie throws back the blanket they shared, leaving them both naked and exposed to the light of the day, the reality of the night before hitting them both with a rush of childish embarrassment, sending a deep blush into both their faces, both not used to being so vulnerably bare in front of each other.

But Eddie seems to regain his composure quickly, untangles from Steve’s arms and jumps out of the bed.

He grabs two pairs of boxers and sweatpants and shirts from his dresser, tossing half of them at Steve who’s still too stunned to speak.

   “Eddie, what-”

   “Hurry up, sweety! I smell coffee.”

Steve follows Eddie, nervously fussing with his hair in a weak attempt to make himself more presentable, less... ‘spent the night making out with your nephew’, hiding behind Eddie when Wayne catches sight of them.

   “Morning boys. Coffee?” The man grumbles, not even batting an eye when Eddie abruptly turns, grabs Steve by the face, and plants a kiss right on his mouth.

   “Yes, please. Me and my boyfriend would love a nice cup of coffee. Don’t we, Stevie?”

Eddie beams at him, a teeth-flashing grin on his face, and Steve wants to kill him. Wants to kiss him even more. Doesn’t know what to say, what to do. Just stands there, frozen in shock, dumbly nodding to answer the question he only vaguely remembers has been asked.

   “I see.” Wayne stands up from the armchair he was sitting in, walks over to them, blank expression on his face.

He exhales deeply and Steve holds his breath, not ready for whatever comes next.

   “Took you long enough to figure it out.”

Eddie shoots his uncle a look, rolls his eyes, scoffs – and Steve feels the weight of a thousand worlds fall off his shoulders.

(How much does one earth weigh? He’ll ask Dustin. Maybe he-)

   “You better treat him right, son. You do not wanna get in trouble with me for hurting him, you hear me?”

Steve’s mouth falls open in disbelief when he realises those words are directed at Eddie and not at him.

That’s what finally cuts the tension. Steve starts laughing, loud and whole-heartedly, feels lighter, better than ever before.

He kisses Eddie again, because he can. They’re in love, and that’s okay.

And as long as they’re together, the rest can go to hell.

#steddiesongfics #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fluff #steddie fic

[phoward89]

Masterlist

WARNING ⚠️: Coryo is his own warning in and of himself. Delusional!Coryo, Soft!Dark!Coryo, Soft!Dom!Coryo, Reader has some survival instincts, Reader knows keeping Coryo happy keeps her alive and well, cussing, possession, obsession, slight manipulation, smut, fingering- f receiving, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, marriage, Sejanus thinks both Coryo & Reader are Delulu

Chapter 6:

Private Snow and Private Plinth were on factory watch duty this afternoon. They're stuck on the loom floor of the Peacekeepers’ Uniform Factory, standing guard to make sure that none of the sweatshop workers takes an early break, skips off before the end of shift, or to prevent any ruckus from starting and spreading. They both hated factory watch duty, but right now Coriolanus loathed it because he was stuck overlooking that ratty whore who thought that she could just swoop on in, after abandoning you to die, and steal you away from him.

Ugh, Ashlie. How he hated her.

Stupid district whore.

And then Coriolanus couldn't help, but, to find it ironic that he only now got assigned watch duty in the uniform factory that you were once employed at (he takes care of you now so you're never working in this shithole again). That all the other times he was on watch duty with Sejanus they were always assigned to one of the fabric factories or fashion warehouses on the other side of the district.

Sejanus noticed how his best friend and brother in arms seemed to be extremely happy today. He's never seen the stoic blonde so overjoyed before; it was, quite frankly, concerning him.

But before Sejanus could ask why his best friend's in such a good mood, the platinum blonde turned to him with a smile so wide that it was a bit frightening. Coryo's voice, that was usually so elongated, seemed to be a light and airy baritone as he announced, “Sejanus, I need you to come home with me tomorrow night. Y/N and I’s getting married in the District 8 traditional style and need you to perform the ceremony.”

“What?” Sejanus blinked in disbelief. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? Just to clear the air, he asked, “You and Y/N’s having a handfasting tomorrow night and want me to conduct it?”

“Is a handfasting what the marriage ceremony’s called here in 8?” Coriolanus asked instead of saying yes or no.

Clearly, the platinum blonde peacekeeper doesn't have a firm grip on life in the districts despite shacking up with a district girl. Oh boy, Sejanus doesn't want to deal with this right now. And isn't Coryo supposed to be the level headed one between them?

Oh, yea…

That's right, when it comes to pretty district girls and love, all logic goes out the window where Coriolanus is concerned. He makes brash decisions and thinks with his wrong head.

The teddy bear of a man, cursed to wear peacekeeper denim fatigues for the next 2 decades, nodded. “Yes, Coryo. That's what it's called.”

“Then yes, we're having a handfasting tomorrow night after work; I’ll be bringing you home with me to make sure it's legal.”

“Um…” Sejanus bit the inside of his cheek, trying to think of the right thing to say to his friend about his upcoming wedding. Something he thinks Coriolanus is going into too quickly and blindly. “Coryo, brother, I know you love your girl, but don't you think that maybe this handfasting’s a bit rushed?”

Coryo narrowed his icy eyes at his comrade, making them look like hardened steel. “No, I don't see how it's rushed, Sej.” Was the tall blonde's sharp reply.

“It's just, I dunno, Coryo-” Sejanus sighed, shaking his head. “Just that you two haven't really been together that long.”

“We live together, Sejanus. We've been together long enough to make that commitment; to get married too.”

If Sejanus only knew that Coriolanus' remark of long enough really meant since your whipping, well, he'd be stroking out and probably trying to get his bestie some mental help.

“Privates in the Peacekeepers aren't allowed to marry until their 20 years are up.” Sejanus pointed out as a last ditch effort to get his best friend to rethink or even cancel his handfasting.

Sejanus thinks Coryo's moving too fast with you. He's just trying to look out for his friend. Having a girlfriend’s one thing, but a wife's different. Divorce is outlawed and banned in the country of Panem; Coryo and you will be stuck together forever. Sej just doesn't want his friend to have regrets later on about a hasty marriage.

“Good thing I’m not staying Private Snow for long then, isn't it?” Coriolanus asked rhetorically, only to follow it up with a confident, “After taking that Elite Officer's Exam I estimate that I'll be shipped out for training right after the New Year.”

“You can still bring her with you, Officers can have their girlfriends with them.”

How dare that district Plinth dog tell him not to marry you? Who the hell does he think he is, telling Coryo to just keep living with you as his girl. Coryo promised to take care of you, to get you out of the districts, and above all he swore to marry you.

Coriolanus knows that he's a slithering snake tongued liar to people, but not to you. Your relationship is built on honesty, an integrity that he shares with you and only you. So, when he promises you something it's with the intention of fulfilling it. And he's going to fulfill his oath to marry you, no matter if he has to hogtie Sejanus and drag him home to your apartment to do it.

“I'm bringing her with me as my wife, Sej. So just shut up and come perform my district 8 ceremony tomorrow night.”

“Too bad we're not in 2. All you'd have to do is just exchange gold coins.” The broad Bones, dark haired peacekeeper half-chuckled.

Looks like he's stuck performing his best friend's handfasting tomorrow whether he wants to or not.

“So, you'll do it? Marry us?” Coryo asked, looking hopeful as the sound of looms being operated loudly sounded out in the air.

Against Sejanus' better judgement, he gave his friend a tentative smile and said, “Yes, Coryo, I'll do it.”

It was the least Sejanus could do. After all, Coryo stood by him during the 10th Hunger Games when he was doing some radical things that could've gotten him- them- killed. Coryo didn't agree with everything that Sej did, but he still stood by his side. They're best friends, brothers, and it's time for Sejanus to return the favor. He'll stand by the platinum peacekeeper’s side, as a brother should, even if he doesn't agree with him.

The food’s on the stove, done and waiting for Coryo to come home. You know that he's at the market, buying you some blue material to make your wedding dress with, so you're not concerned that he's not home at his usual time. Between work and the market, you imagine that his day’s a bit busy.

And you can always reheat the food real quick if it's cold when he does get home. You don't mind. You're just happy to have enough food in the house to be able to cook meals. Real meals, not some slop from stale oats or something.

You're grateful for Coryo and how he takes care of you despite the fact that he's the reason you still have at least a couple more weeks to heal from your whipping. At least a good thing came out of that bad, scary experience. You met Coryo and he, for some reason beyond your comprehension, decided to undertake your caretaking. He decided to make you his girl.

And tomorrow night he'll make you his wife.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open followed by heavy bootsteps entering the one-room apartment. You turn your attention from the book you're reading and onto the tall blonde that just walked thru the door. You smile, seeing that he has a paper bag in his hand.

You get up to greet him by the door as he closes it. “So, you got the blue material.” You state, not ask, as you reach his side.

“Yea.” Coryo nodded, handing you over the paper bag. “I also got us a long, thick red ribbon for the handfasting.” He added in, taking off his coat and hanging it up. “Sejanus says that the ceremony's called a handfasting-” Your fiance began, taking off his boots, only for you to interrupt him with a one word question.

“Red?” You ask with a quirked brow.

“It's my favorite color.” Coryo explained before gesturing to the bag and urging, “Open it, baby, and see what I got you for your dress.”

The platinum blonde wore a proud smile on his face as you obliged him. First, you took the red ribbon out of the bag. It was blood red.

Oh boy…

Still clutching the ribbon, you took out a few yards of folded up material. It was simple and made out of cotton, but the shade was beautiful. It was cerulean and it matches Coryo's icy eyes perfectly. It was literally the same shade of blue as his eyes. The material enchanted you in a way.

“Do you like it?” Coryo asked, placing a hand on your shoulder and tilting his head slightly.

He prayed that you liked it. Coryo felt that the other blue fabrics in the cheap market stall he went to were either too dark or drap for you. He wanted his wife to have the best. To have a beautiful blue fabric for her dress.

You only get married once; he thinks you deserve the best despite the ceremony being district.

Nodding, you weakly smile, “It matches your eyes.”

“Yea?” He lightly chuckles. Honestly, he didn't even notice that the material’s the same blue as his eyes. But now he knows it is; he assumes you like it too.

“Yea.” You confirm with a nod. “Putting the material and ribbon back into the bag, you give him a hug. “Thank you, I love it.” You smile into his chest.

All Coryo can do is wrap an arm around you and caress your hair softly with his long fingers. “I have my parents' wedding rings in my bag, would you mind exchanging them before our hand binding?” He asked, hopeful that you'd say yes.

Lifting your head up, your eyes met his cerulean blue ones, as you told him, “I'd be honored to wear your mother's ring, Coryo, but you're not an officer yet; you're not allowed to wear a ring.”

“I'll wear it around my chain with my dog tags til I pass my exam.”

“Okay.”

Threading his fingers into your hair, he sadly smiles, “I have a few family photos in my bag too. Perhaps we can put them up?”

“Of course, Coryo.” You smile, assuring him that you're fine with him decorating your meager one-room apartment with his family photos.

In fact you're more than fine with it. Him wanting to display his pictures of loved ones makes him human. Not just a mindless, Capitol born and bred peacekeeper that you're stuck with, but an actual human capable of feelings.

Capable of love, despite his condescending attitude at times.

You worked all day Thursday sewing a simple dress. You weren't a professional seamstress by any means, but you've been living in 8 long enough to pick up a thing or two. You could sew good enough to get by. You could also make simple patterns for simple dresses.

The only thing that was a pain in the ass was the fact that you had to sew your dress by hand. Thank the gods that Coryo had bought you light blue thread to match the material for your dress because the only blue thread you had in your sewing kit was navy.

Also, you noticed that your red thread was almost out, that it was wrapped thinly around the bobbin. You have an idea as to why it's nearly gone. You think that Coryo used it to stitch up the deep lacerations on your back.

He did tell you last night that red's his favorite color.

You spent practically all day huddled over your kitchen table, sewing your cerulean dress by hand. Since it was winter the sleeves were long and your skirt was knee length. It was a simple design, but when the dress was done you felt proud of it. You just hope that Coryo likes it.

You had enough scrap material left over to make a hairbow with. You decided that you're going to pull your hair back with a big, blue bow for your wedding. Yes, it's just going to be a very simple District 8 handfasting and reception dinner, but you still want to look pretty.

It's only natural. Every girl wants to look pretty on their wedding day.

So, after finishing both your dress and hair bow, you cook up a couple of dishes and bake an apple pie for dessert. You finished cooking with just enough time to get dressed before the groom and the best man arrive home.

You're standing in front of the family photos that Coryo set up on the bedside table last night. You can't help, but to think that he was a cute little boy with his curls as you stare at the family picture of him, his mom, and his dad. Coryo looks just like his father, General Crassus Snow, except that his father's eyes seemed cold and stern while Coryo's eyes were more mischievous. Or at least they were in your option.

His mother, Demeter, was very pretty. In the photo of Demeter holding a baby Coryo in a rose garden, you could see that he had inherited her smile. It was the only thing he inherited from her, looks wise. And in the picture his mother was wearing the orange scarf that he had given you. The scarf that matches your sweater perfectly.

There was a picture of his Grandma’am sitting regally amongst some roses and a picture of a young blonde girl that you knew had to be his cousin, Tigris. She definitely had the prominent Snow noses, but a tender softhearted smile.

After seeing a picture of Tigris, you're shocked that she lied to Coryo about something so important. You also feel bad for Grandma'am, she seems like such a high class lady and to lose everything and end up in hospice due to not having the will to love's horrible.

And on the table, in front of all the small framed photographs, was the wedding rings that belonged to Coryo's parents. One band was a simple gold one while the other was gold with a radiant square cut diamond. The diamond wasn't too big, but it wasn't too small either. It was just right and gave off a timeless, classic style.

“Baby, we're home.” You hear Coryo call out mixed with the sound of the door opening.

Sejanus followed his best friend into the apartment, secretly dreading having to marry you and Coryo. But he couldn't help, but smile whenever his friend gasped up on seeing you in your simple blue wedding dress and matching hair bow. It was clear to him that Coryo was in love just by how his face lit up at the sight of you.

“Darling, you look so beautiful.” Your soon to be husband declared while joining you by the bedside table.

“Thank you, honey.” You responded, feeling elated that he likes your outfit.

“Honey?” He asked, a brow raised in amusement.

“It just slipped out.” You sheepishly replied.

“It's fine; I'll let it slide, Mrs. Snow.” Coryo told you, his voice a slight bit husky, as he strokes your cheek softly with his calloused thumb.

Clearing his throat, because the sexual tension was so thick it could be cut with a butter knife and was making him feel uncomfortable, Sejanus asked, “Um, Coryo, do you want to start the ceremony?”

“Yea, just stand over there and we'll join you.” The platinum peacekeeper told his comrade, pointing to the spot he wanted him in.

Sejanus just nodded and went to stand where Coriolanus wanted him to. Coryo grabbed the rings and the red ribbon off the bedside table before escorting you over to Sej, the makeshift officiant for the wedding.

“We're going to exchange rings, like in the Capitol, then you can bind our hands.” Coryo told his dark haired friend while handing him over the ribbon for the hand binding.

Of course, Coriolanus Snow had to implement some kind of Capitol tradition in a district ceremony. Sejanus wouldn't expect anything less from his friend.

“Okay.” Nodded the aspiring medic with a heart of gold. Hey, what else was he supposed to do? If Coryo wanted to exchange rings then so be it.

Coryo handed you over his father's ring, now his, and kept his mother's ring, now yours. He just smiled and held the ring to your fingertip, causing you to do the same. Silently, you both slide the rings on each other's fingers before holding hands.

“I'm from District 2 and was raised in the Capitol for the past decade, so I'm not too well versed in handfasting.” Sejanus tells you while starting to wrap the long red ribbon around you and Coryo's entwined hands.

Looking over at Sejanus, you tell him, “I'm originally from 12, so all I know about this ceremony is what I've heard.”

“They do a toasting where she's from, but we don't have a fireplace so we had to settle with the handfasting.” Coryo added in, shrugging at his friend.

“Ah.” Sejanus slowly nodded as alarm bells went off in his head. Of course you're from 12. It seems like Coryo has a type and it's basically pretty girl from District 12. Now, he can't help, but worry that his platinum blonde friend is going full steam ahead with you so quickly because of your district of origin.

“You can exchange your words now.” Sejanus prompts, knowing that words are said in a handfasting once the ribbon is wrapped around the clasped hands of the couple.

“You first, Y/N.” Coryo smiles, only to quickly add in, “Women always say their vows first in the Capitol.”

Sejanus wanted to cringe. Coriolanus just has to bring up Capitol wedding traditions, again. For marrying a district girl he's really trying to incorporate as many Capitol things as he can. Or at least Sejanus thinks so.

It bothered Sejanus more than it did you. Coryo talking about Capitol wedding traditions. You didn't mind, he was from there after all.

“Okay.” You nodded before smiling and telling your husband a quote from the tragic Pre-Panem love story he's been reading to you- Wuthering Heights.

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

You're bound to him forever now, so you decided to tell him a book quote to express that.

Coryo’a grin spread wide across his face. He looked a bit manic, a result of your words. Oh, how hearing you say that your souls are the same just made his heart burst.

Yes! Yes! Yes!

You're his now and will be forever. You're not just his wife, but his most treasured possession now. Being your husband, knowing that you're at his complete mercy, makes him feel all powerful.

Sejanus can't help, but feel like you're as delusional as Coriolanus right now after hearing the Emily Bronte quote you recited. Oh, Sejanus has read the book it's from and he thinks there's nothing romantic about the main and tragic relationship. God, he hopes your relationship with Coryo isn’t marked by tragedy, obsession, and extreme codependency like the haunting relationship between Cathy and Heathcliff was.

Coryo’s icy blue eyes are looking into yours intensely as he recites the standard Capitol vows of, “I promise to love and support you, to take you under my protection; to provide for the children that I will gift upon you. I promise to love you; to spend the rest of my days with you.”

You couldn't help, but swoon at the Capitol vows. To you, they sound so romantic.

But to Sejanus they sound like honeyed words used to shackle couples that grow old together in either indifference or hate.

“Well, that's it then. Coryo, Y/N, you're now married.” Sejanus announced before quickly unwrapping the ribbon from your hands.

Once your hands are free, Coryo grabs your face gently in his large hands and presses a sweet kiss to your lips to seal the marriage bond, like they do in the Capitol.

It's official, you're Mr. And Mrs. Snow now.

After the ceremony, Sejanus ate dinner with you and your new husband. Coryo even arranged for Sejanus to take you Christmas shopping on Monday while he's occupied taking his Elite Officer's Examine, which he's positive that he'll pass. The conversation during dinner was nice. You like Sejanus and you're glad that Coryo has him as a friend. He's a nice guy, very down to earth and friendly.

After dinner, Sejanus said his goodbyes to you and Coryo and left. Traditionally, the folks of District 8 stay for hours after the handfasting ceremony, but you reckon that Sejanus left after the pie was served because he needed to head back to base. Unlike your husband, Private Plinth actually sleeps in his bunk at the barracks.

You had already put up the leftovers and you're washing the last dish whenever Coryo comes up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. His nose nuzzles your neck and he presses a kiss on the sweet spot below your ear. “I’m ready to fuck you, Mrs. Snow; make you mine in every sense of the word.”

“How’re we supposed to do that, Coryo? My back needs at least a couple more weeks to fully heal.” You ask, placing the dish onto the drying rack with the others.

“Snow lands on top.” He smirks into your neck. Turning you around after you unplugged the drain, he told you, “You'll have to ride my cock til your back’s healed.”

*Oh.” You squeaked, eyes slightly wide.

“Don't be nervous, baby. I'll guide you thru it.”

“Okay.” You simply nod, since you didn't really know what else to do.

You know that you're going to have to fuck him. It's a given now that you're married. You're honestly surprised that he didn't make you ride his cock earlier, before you even got married.

“I can always take you behind, doggy style too.” Your platinum blonde husband remarked, causing you to just nod.

Yea, there was that too. But then he'd be staring at your back. Your stitched up, scarred up back, during the do.

Yea…

You're not sure how you feel about that.

Caressing your cheek in his large calloused hand, he lightly smiled. “But I think for the first few times it'd be nice to look at each other's faces. Yea?”

“Yea.” You softly agree.

He presses a kiss full of heated want on your lips only to pull away and take your hand. “Come on, let's go to bed.” Coryo tells you while leading you over to your bed.

To the point of no return.

Coriolanus stops you right in front of the bed, only to cup your cheeks in his hands and bend his head down to kiss you with every fiber of his being. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in closer while syncing your lips with his; kissing him back with as much vigor as he's shown you.

Kissing Coryo was an experience in and of itself. His kisses could be chaste and innocent, but then they could be fiery and passionate: full of need and hot blooded desire.

The kisses you're sharing right now are the latter. They're passionate and fiery, full of an unquenchable desire. Coryo's mouth literally slots over yours, noses bumping together, as his tongue slips into your mouth with such urgency. An urgency that can only be attributed to desire and need. To passion and lust.

You let out a moan at the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth. Your own tongue finds its way into his mouth, exotically dancing with his. Coryo's fingers entangle in your hair while his other hand holds your jaw in a vice grip. Your hands are clutching at the back of his neck, trying to anchor yourself as you continue to kiss him passionately.

Coryo pulls away, leaving you both breathless and panting. He leans his forehead against yours, only to whisper, “Is this real, Mrs. Y/N Snow? The way you feel about me? It's real for me and I-I was just wondering if it's real for you too.”

The vulnerability in his cerulean blue eyes took you aback. You've never seen him like this before. You're so used to Coryo being condescending and cunning, sweet, but in a reserved way.

You've never seen him vulnerable before. And that sight makes you realize that there's more to your husband than what meets the eye. That deep down, he's just an orphan boy that wants to be loved. And you understand that wholeheartedly since you're an orphan girl that wants the same thing.

To be loved.

Unwinding a hand from his neck and softly stroking his cheek with it, you tell him, “It's real for me too, husband.” Giving him a small smile, you carry on with, “We’re all each other's got, Coryo. And I'm grateful for you.” You notice that your words are having a calming effect on him, which is good. “I wouldn't have married you if I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with you.” You assure him, bringing your other hand up to his cheek.

Honestly, you married him so that you'll have stability. So you'll be able to always have a roof over your head and food in your belly. Yes, you like him, but the marriage is so that you're not on your own struggling to get by.

Coryo's determined to take care of you; to make up for ratting you out and getting you whipped. He wants to get you out of 8; who are you to stop him?

You married him out of self preservation, but you honestly do like him. He's a very handsome man- unlike any you've ever met, and you enjoy his company. If he's delusional to think that you're in love then so be it. At least you'll be able to sleep in a warm bed with a full belly every night.

Your answer was exactly what Coriolanus needed to hear. His icy eyes light up and he kissed you once more with power and passion. A promise of things to come.

Coryo's sitting on the edge of the bed and you're straddling him. He's in nothing, but his white boxers, while you're naked. He's got a hand on your hip, balancing you, while the other's between your legs. Two of his fingers are shoved deep inside your cunt as he fucks you furiously with them. His thumb rubs quick, sloppy circles over your swollen clit, as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“You're close, baby. You're gonna cum soon.” He knowingly states, not asks, as he picks up his pace.

“Coryo…please…” You whine, feeling as if you're going to explode and see stars any minute by how hard, fast, and deep he's fingering you. Hell, you never knew that being fingered could feel like this. But yet again, his fingers are much longer than yours…

His fingers hit the spongy spot deep inside of you, over and over again, making your hips back against his as you chase your high.

“That's it, baby. That's it, ride my fingers. Good girl, just like that.” Coryo cooed praises into your ear as your head drops to his shoulder while you ride his fingers, chasing after your orgasm that you're oh so desperate to feel.

His hand on your hip helps guide you as you quickly roll your hips forward and back, riding his fingers, as little moans and mewls escape your lips. They're mostly muffled by his shoulder, since you're resting your head in it. But Coryo can still hear a few. The few noises you make that echo in the room mingle with the loud, lewd, wet squelching sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your cunt.

Suddenly, your clawing at your husband's back and canting your hips quickly as your orgasm fastly approaches. “Coryo…I'm close.” You mutter out into his shoulder.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Be a good girl and cum right now, baby.” Coryo ordered, his voice hot and thick with lust, as he thumb pressed hard against your clit while he pounds your pussy relentlessly with his long fingers.

And you do. You cum hard around his fingers, moaning out his name like a prayer. Coryo helps guide your hips as you ride out your high on his fingers.

When your body goes slack, he pulls his hand out from between your legs. “Look, darling.” Coryo orders while spreading his fingers apart, causing your juices to create a web between them.

You feels your cheeks heat up as you look at your husband's hand, the one that had just been between your legs. You weren't aware that you let out that many juices when you came. Seeing them webbed and stringing against your husband's fingers…well…

And when your husband curled his fingers into a fist, so only his wet ones were standing upright, and smelled the two wet fingers- causing his eyes to flutter shut as he declared in a shaky exhale, “Your cunt smells so good, darling.”, You nearly died of arousal.

Oh boy, did that turn you for some ungodly reason.

And when he stuck his fingers in his mouth, sucking your juices clean off of them…oh yea…you felt yourself grow wetter. You felt your core ache for his cock.

Coryo pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a wet pop, only to help you off of him while saying, “I'm going to take off my boxers and lay down in the bed, okay?”

“Okay.” You simply nod, watching as your husband stands up and slides down his boxers.

You know he has a big cock by the large bulge that was in his boxers, but when you see his cock rise to full attention and slap up against his stomach, you can't help but to look at it in awe. It was long, at least 8 inches, and very girthy too. Damn, even his balls are big. Like everything on Coryo's big.

You guess what they say about y'all men with big hands, big feet, and big noses is true. Cause right now, you're looking at the living proof that the saying isn't a myth.

It's true. Very, very, true.

Tall men with big hands, feet, and noses are blessed with big cocks.

“Like what you see, Mrs. Snow?” Coryo asks with a cocky, lopsided grin as he closes the distance between you after kicking his boxers to the side once he stepped out of them.

“Yes, I suppose so, since it's the only cock I've ever seen.” You tell him, locking your eyes with his icy blue ones.

Taking your hand and bringing it to his cock, which has veins running along it with an angry red head that's leaking pearly drops of precum, he tells you, “You can touch me, you know.”

“Is there a certain way you like to be touched?” You wonder.

You don't know how experienced Coryo is and you really don't care. He's your husband now, so any and all experience he has is just going to make you feel good. But you lack experience. So, of course you want to know what your husband likes, it's only natural to ask.

The platinum blonde gives you a thin smile, one that's barely holding back how horny he is, and tells you, “Use your thumb to gather my precum and spread it around my cock before pumping it up and down. You can also swipe the slit on my head too.”

“Okay.” You nod before doing as you're told.

“There ya go, baby. That's it, you got it.” Coryo praised, lust blowing his pupils black, as he watched you slowly, but surely jack him off.

After a few minutes, Coriolanus’ breath began to hitch. He placed a hand on yours to stop you, all the while saying, “I think it's time I get in bed and you get on top of me.”

You just nod, watching as your husband fluffs the pillows and lays down comfortably on his back.

“Come here, baby.” He motioned with an outstretched hand.

You get into the bed and go over to him, straddling his hips. You're hovering over his hard cock, balancing yourself by resting your hands on Coryo's chest. One of his hands went to your hip while the other grabbed his cock, teasing you by rubbing his tip along your slit; bumping into your clit once or twice.

“You ready, darling?” Coryo asked, locking eyes with you.

“Yes.” You nod. After how good of a job he did warming you up, you'd be a fool not to be ready.

“Just sink down slowly; take your time til you bottom out.” He instructed, rubbing soothing and supportive circles in your hip bone.

Nodding, you listened to your husband and slowly sank down on his cock. You felt a burning sensation tearing you apart as his cockhead parted your petals and entered your virgin cunt. It wasn't painful per say, just uncomfortable. The burning sensation at the stretch his cock made to your tight walls had you biting your lip and letting out little whimpers.

“I know, baby. I know, it's a big stretch.” Coryo cooed, the corners of his mouth turned up. He took the hand that was on the base of his cock (feeling that you're doing a good enough job guiding yourself down on it that he doesn't need to hold it anymore) and cupped your cheek. “You're doing such a good job, baby.” Coryo softly ran the pad of his calloused thumb against the apple of your cheek. “Just a lil bit more and I'll be picking your cherry, my sweet girl.” Your husband assured you, his baritone honeyed and lustful.

You've heard that getting your cherry popped hurts like hell, or at least that's what the girls said at school. Hell, even your old friends Lil and Lucy Gray back on your old street in the Seam said it hurt like no other. So you're sure that it's going to be the worst pain in your life.

But your husband's assuring words, sweetly melodic but ardent, put you at ease. His simple action of soothingly stroking your cheekbone with his thumb eased your nerves; your fears as well. Who would've known that Coryo, a tall, imposing peacekeeper with a platinum buzz cut and mischievous baby blues could be so soft and gentle, so reassuring and understanding.

In that moment you, without a doubt, knew that you made the right choice in marrying Coryo. How many other young men would be patient enough with you to let you go at your own pace during your first time? Not many, or at least not the type of men that your old friends had would be patient.

You really hit the jackpot when you got with your peacekeeper. Yes, you know that the way ya'll got together wasn't ideal, but he's truly been nothing, but amazing since he brought you home badly whipped, bleeding profusely, and nearly unconscious with pain. Private Snow, soon to be Elite Officer Snow (if all goes according to plan and he passes his exams), might be a condescending asshole at times, but he's also a caring, loveable man at others. And right now he's a tenderhearted lover.

Your breath hitches as you feel Coriolanus' cockhead breach your barrier; breaking your hymen and taking your virginity. Your nails scratch at his chest and you bite your lip in reaction to the stinging sensation that you feel throbbing in your pussy.

“Are you alright, Y/N? Did I hurt you?” Your husband asks, looking up at you with genuine concern flashing in his icy eyes, as you bottom out on top of him.

“I'm not hurt, Coryo. It just stings a lil bit, that's all.” You honestly tell him, not wanting him to worry.

“You just just cockwarm me til you feel comfortable to move, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, a tiny smile stretching your lips.

“Come ‘ere, baby.” Coryo instructs, sliding his hand down your cheek and down to your neck only to guide your face down towards his. As your lips ghosts over each other's, he commands in a husky tone, “Kiss me while you sit on my cock.”

And who are you to turn down your husband's request when his plush lips look oh so kissable. You quite enjoy kissing him. It's a sensation that you'll never grow tired of.

Your hands slide up Coryo's toned chest, only to hold onto his shoulders for leverage, as your lips meet his in a kiss. A kiss that quickly turned passionate and sloppy. Your tongues danced exotically as your body grew accustomed to his large cock stretching out your walls and filling you up all the way to your womb. A breathy moan fell from your lips as your kiss broke apart, so the two of you could catch some air.

Coryo's lips we're mere inches from yours as he asked, “Think you're ready to start moving, my darling rose?”

“Yea,” You nod, “I'm ready.”

“Remember how you rode my fingers? Just do that, alright?”

“Alright.” You parroted before slowly and experimentally rising and falling down onto your husband's cock; causing him to let out a low moan of approval.

It didn't take long for you to find a comfortable rhythm. And before long, you're riding your husband with the desperate need to cum, arms wrapped around his neck as he's sitting up, sucking on one of your nipples while squeezing and grabbing at your tits with the need of a hungry, starving madman.

“Fuck! Coryo…” You loudly moan as his teeth scrape again your pebbled nipple, sending pleasure shooting straight to your core, before he lifts his head and attaches his kiss bruised lips to your neglected nipple. As his lips start sucking your other nipples, his thumb soothingly rubs over the one that he just bit, making your cunt grow even wetter.

“Oh gods, Coryo, I'm so close again.” You choke out on a high pitched moan, feeling his cock dive deep inside of your cunt and kiss your cervix as you bounce down particularly fast on him.

Your husband lets your nipple fall from his mouth with a loud, wet pop and he stops feeling up your boobs. One of his hands grabs your ass while the other goes slightly behind him, resting on the bed to give him leverage, as he sits up a bit straighter. Bending his knees slightly so that his feet are flat on the bed, he orders you to, “Hold onto my neck and wrap your legs around my waist. I'm gonna finish us off.”

“Okay.” You smile before doing as your told.

Not a second later, Coryo's fingers are digging into your ass cheek while his hips are wildly bucking up; causing his cock to piston deep inside of you. So deep that you're seeing stars.

“Coryo…I think I'm gonna cum.” You tell him, lips hovering close to his, as you feel the knot in your lower belly about to come undone.

“I'm gonna cum right after ya, baby.” He groaned, snapping his hips even faster. “Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up with my seed; knock you up tonight, babygirl.” Coryo grunted thru clenched teeth as his cock pounded your tight pussy with wild abandon. "I swear, you're gonna look so beautiful all round with my child."

Were you ready to be a mom? Who knows, who cares. You'll deal with it when the time comes. All you know is that your husband's fucking you so good and you're about to cum on his gigantic cock any second now.

“Coryo…” You mewl while your cunt flutters around his cock. The dam of pleasure’s about to burst and all you can think about is how badly you want to kiss your husband.

So…

You unwrap one of your hands from around his neck and grab a hold of the chain around his neck. The one that his dog tags are one. The same dog tags that are bouncing back and forth between both of your chests. Using the chain, you pull him a few inches towards you until your lips meet his for a kiss. A kiss that's desperate. An open mouth kiss that's filthy and full of both tongue and spit swapping as you cum hard around his cock.

Coryo's icy eyes literally roll into the back of his head as he feels your tight cunt spasm around his cock and soak his cock and thigh as you cum. Fuck, you're a squirter and that turns him on. It turns him on so much that the next time he bucks up he's shooting his load of hot, thick ropes up cum deep up into your womb.

He continues to slowly rock his hips up and down to ride out your highs. Your lips are no longer engaged in a dirty open mouthed kiss. Instead, your foreheads are resting on each other as you just get lost gazing into each other's eyes- looking into the windows of each other's souls.

Souls that are truly so similar considering you both are orphans with a self preservation streak.

After a little while, he stops moving and lays flat down on his back. He adjusts your legs so that you can comfortably lay down on him. He even places the blanket on top of you two so that you'll be warm.

“Shouldn't I get off of you?” You ask, referring to his cock still being stuffed inside of your cunt.

“No.” Coryo shakes his head against his pillow. “Don’t worry about it, babe. My cock’ll slip out once it softens.” He assures you with a satisfied smirk while tucking a strand of sweaty hair behind your ear. “You were amazing, Mrs. Y/N Snow.”

“Thank you, Elite Officer Snow. I have an amazing husband for a teacher.” You playfully smile back, tracing patterns on his toned chest.

“Remind me to thank that amazing husband of yours for teaching you how to ride cock like a pro.” Coryo teasingly chuckled, earning him a playful smack in the arm from you.

Then, you decided to bring up a serious topic. One that was tied to some dirty talk your husband said while fucking.

Looking up at him with big, curious eyes, you seriously ask, “Coryo, do you really want kids?”

“Yes, Y/N, I really want to have kids with you.” Your husband answered, only to follow it up with a question of his own. “Don't you want them, my darling rose.”

“I never really thought about it, but one day I'd like to be a mom.”

“Babies come when they come, darling.” Your platinum peacekeeper tell you so casually that it's as.of he's telling you the weather forecast.

“I know.” You simply tell him. Then, worry crosses your features as you seriously ask, “Since they'd be born in the districts would they be eligible for the game's lottery?”

“No.” Coryo's quick to assure you with a shake of his head. His large hand comforts you by soothingly rubbing your arm up and down. “Officer’s children are born on a Capitol run base in the hospital and live on base or base approved housing. They're registered as Capitol citizens at birth; they're parents no matter their origin of birth are considered Capitol as well.”

You let out a loud, incredulous laugh, only to tell your husband, “So I fucking stood in line 7-fucking-years for the reaping when I didn't have to all because my brother refused to hand over my papers when it was time for game registration.”

“What?” Coryo asked, his voice full of confusion, as he stared at you slack jawed.

“Close your mouth, honey. You'll catch flies with it open like that.” You tease Coryo, snapping his jaw shit with your fingers. Knowing you have to tell him the truth, the very same truth you learned right after your brother died, you sighed and explained, “After my brother died we went thru everything in the house to see what we wanted to keep, sell, and give away. Hidden in the end table by his sitting chair was an old picture of my parents and my birth certificate.”

You had to pause to collect yourself. You never planned on revealing this, but it seems like gate has other plans. Coryo just looked at you with support flashing in his eyes while gently squeezing your hand. He wasn't dumb, he was putting the pieces together fairly quickly. But he wanted to hear you say what he's thinking, to make sure that it's right.

When you feel ready to continue, you tell your husband, “I discovered that I was born on PK Base D-12 to a Colonel Javanis Halvir and a Helenium Halvir.” Shaking your head, you bitterly spat out, “I even have a Capitol name too; it's actually a longer version of the name my brother grew up calling me.”

“So you're half Capitolite then or were both your parents-” Coryo began to ask only for you to abruptly cut him off with, “Half. My father was a Capitolite and my mother was from District 12; Rein was my half-brother from her first marriage, but my dad must've adopted him since he used the Halvir name.”

“Do you want me to write the Capitol about this? I know some people that could look into your family, see if perhaps you have an inheritance tied up in probate or any relatives still alive?”

“You don't have to do that, Coryo.” You softly decline. Honestly, you never considered finding your long lost family. Plus it's not like they were looking for you either.

But Coryo wanted to inquire about your family, that Halvirs. If they had money or if you had an inheritance then as your husband he's legally bound to be the recipient of it. And Lord knows how much Coriolanus Snow craves money, power, and glory. How he wants to get back to the Capitol, with you and any children you have in tow, to become the youngest president in Panem's history.

But he can't tell you that, now can he?

No…

So, instead he tells you, “Y/N, baby, you're my wife and I love you. Let me use my Capitol contacts to help you find your family.” Giving you a slight pout and a pair of big cerulean blue puppy dog eyes, he adds in the magic word of, “Please.”

How can you say no to that? You can't. So, you tell him okay.

Coriolanus is overjoyed, but he doesn't let it show. Instead his baritone is calm and collective as he tells you that it's time to go to sleep. As you yawn and settle down on his chest, visions of a newfound rich family or a large inheritance sum are dancing around in his head, much like sugarplums dance around in children's heads on Christmas Eve.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #thg #coryo snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tbosas fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus smut #coriolanus fic #coriolanus snow smut #coryo snow x reader #coryo smut #coryo x reader #coryo snow smut #peacekeeper!coriolanus snow #peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x reader #delusional!coryo snow #delulu!coriolanus snow #delulu!coryo snow #delusional!coriolanus snow #delulu!coryo #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #thg smut #tbosas smut #thg fanfiction #tom blyth smut

[literaryavenger]

Stargazing

Summary: You and Bucky are spending some time together under the stars.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Warnings: None, just a whole lot of fluff. Nerd Bucky. Nerd Reader. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word count: 1K because I'll kick myself I can't make anything short.

Prompt: we're sitting on your roof at midnight and you're pointing out every constellation but out of every star, you shine the brightest.

A/N: I wrote this story in like two hours, so bear with me. I don't know a lot about Astronomy, so I googled everything I put on here. I do know my fair share of Mythology but I realise some things may be wrong or just simply different from things you know, who knows Mythology knows there are a lot of versions of the same story, anything I wrote here are the version I've learned over the years, so no hate, but I'm always open to talk about it more if anyone wants to. Always respectfully, of course. Also, I wrote and posted this from my phone so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes.

Masterlist

“And see those three stars that make an angle?” Bucky points up to them. “That's Coma Berenices.”

One thing not many people know about Bucky Barnes is his love of Astronomy.

Back in the 40s he loved studying the constellations, learning as much as he could. So, after he regained control of his mind and joined the Avengers, he spends his free time catching up in all things space related he's missed since.

You have never been particularly interested in Astronomy, but seeing how passionate your boyfriend gets when it comes to it, you can never say no when he asks you to stargaze with him.

That's why you've spent countless times now in the position you are right now: Laying on a blanket next to Bucky on the roof of the Avengers Compound, looking at the stars and listening to him tell you all about them.

“That one's Cassiopeia…” He points to it. “That one's Lacerta…”

You giggle a little at the funny name and look at him. “Lacerta?”

“It means ‘the Lizard’.” He informs you with a grin while looking at you too.

“Of course it does.” You say playfully and look back up.

“That one is Camelopardalis…” He traces the stars to give you an idea of the shape.

“Now you're just making things up.” You tease him while looking back at his face to find him glaring playfully at you.

“It means giraffe.” He says matter-of-factly.

“Alright, you little geek.” You smile at his indignified scoff but you can see he's fighting a smile, and losing.

You look at each other with goofy smiles for a moment before you softly say, “What else?” prompting him to go on.

He looks back at the stars for a moment before he starts tracing another constellation.

That's something Bucky loves to do, like the most intricate game of connect the dots ever, and he wins every time.

Sometimes you've even made it into a game, trying to find all the stars in a constellation before the other, but he has the unfair advantage of actually knowing them all. But you always have fun playing, even if you end up behaving like children.

And looking at him right now, his eyes on the stars and his hand up to trace them with his finger, you can't take your eyes off of him and you know, out of all the constellations, he shines the brightest.

“That…” He traces the biggest constellation he's shown you tonight. “is the Ursa Major.”

His voice snaps you out of it and you look back up. He's shown you these same constellations time and time again, every time with the same passion and every time you listen intently, just enchanted by his voice.

“And that one…” He traces another one. “is Pegasus.”

Huh, that was a new one. You look at it while tilting your head. “Pegasus?”

“Yeah, that one I don't know what it means.” He chuckles, about to move on to another set of stars when you interrupt him.

“Pegasus is a winged horse from Greek Mythology.” You say before you can stop yourself.

Mythology is something you've always found fascinating and, much like Bucky with Astronomy, you've always tried to learn as much as you could about it.

Unlike Bucky, you've always kept this small passion to yourself, which is why Bucky is looking at you right now with a confused yet amused raise of his eyebrow.

“What? Can't a girl know a random fact?” You say playfully while looking back up at the stars to hide your slight blush.

“So that's all it is? A random fact?” Bucky asks, his eyes still on you and you know he can tell there's more to it. He knows you pretty well, after all.

“Maybe…” You say playfully, finally looking at him with a small smile.

“Tell me more about it?” He says softly, not pushing you to talk but letting you know he's open to listen if you want.

“Well…” You say quietly after a moment, looking back at the stars as you think about what to tell him. “Pegasus was born from Poseidon-”

“Poseidon?” He interrupts you with a small frown. “The god of the ocean?”

“Yeah…” You chuckle, looking at him. “He's also known as the God of Horses.”

“He is?” He frowns more. “Why?”

“Well, according to Greek mythology he invented them.” You explain with a smile. “He created them out of foam from the ocean in order to be elected as the patron god of a new city. But Athena created an olive tree and the citizens saw that as more useful and chose her, naming their city Athens.”

Bucky looks at you with awe, his entire attention on you now as you enthrall him with your words.

“And he was the father of Pegasus?” Bucky asks you, just wanting to hear more of your voice.

“Yeah, Poseidon was his father and Medusa his mother.” You look back up at the stars, trying to  recall more details of the story. “He was born when Medusa got decapitated by Perseus. The blood from her neck fell into the ocean and, out of the white foam, came Pegasus, along with Chrysaor.”

“Chrysaor?” He asks, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “Another horse with wings?”

“No, he was a boar with wings.” You correct him. “Chrysaor comes from a name that means ‘he who has a golden sword’. Pegasus doesn't have a meaning, but it symbolizes divine inspiration or the journey to Heaven, because…”

You keep talking about Greek mythology as you look at the stars, Bucky’s eyes on you the whole time.

He finally understands why you love hearing him talk about Astronomy so much even though you have virtually no interest in it.

The way you talk about Mythology, the knowledge and the passion you show… It's breathtaking to see, and Bucky never wants to stop listening to you at this moment. 

If you were looking at him you'd see the same look you have on your face when you look at him talking about the stars, the same look he has when he's looking at the stars…

He may love to stargaze, but the biggest, brightest of them all is laying right beside him, and that’s definitely his favorite.

#bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfiction

[damiansgoodgirll]

can you please write an Damian Priest X Fem Reader Story where Reader was in a toxic relationship and Damian helps her with the trauma from the past?!

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!!

‼️ mention of past abusive relationship, damian being a softie , mention of verbal abuse and violence

behind closed doors

you’ve been in love before but you had no idea how it feels being loved.

you were in a happy relationship, or so you thought. but happy relationships aren’t made of lies, cheating, violence and hate.

you didn’t know what made him change his behaviour towards you. during the first months of relationship he was kind and loving, and suddenly he changed.

he blamed it on you being away for too long, he didn’t like that. he knew that you were doing an important job, working for wwe meant investing most of your time in your job but it was all you dreamed of.

you graduate in journalism just for that main reason and when you were offered the position of hosting some wwe programs after the main events you couldn’t say no.

you made so many friends that in all reality, were like a family to you.

but your ex didn’t like that, so he made you quit. when your colleagues noticed your sudden behaviour change, they started asking questions you didn’t want to answer. when they saw how you changed your wardrobe, they started investigating in your private life a little more and you hated that, and an escalated fight with your ex made you quit your dream job.

all because of him.

“let me know when you’ll stop whoring around” he said, with such a low voice that made you shiver.

“i’m not…”

“you’re not?” he laughed “yes you are!” he raised his voice at you, again “i see the shows you are hosting, i see all the wrestlers flirting with you and you, like the good whore you are, doing nothing to stop them!”

“it’s part of the job, i’m not flirting with anyone!” that was your first mistake, raising your voice back at him.

“so you’re saying i’m a liar” he went, gaslighting you.

“no - no, i’m not saying that…” your voice smaller “i’m just saying i’m doing my job, i’m a journalist and that’s what i’m doing…”

“now, hear me very well, you’re quitting that job and you’ll stay here at home, waiting for me when i come back from work, like the good wife you’re going to be one day” he smiled at you, making you shiver again.

“i’m not quitting my dream job!” you screamed back and before you could move, slap. a loud and strong slap to your face.

“scream at me again bitch! you’ll be six feet under ground next time” he screamed, before leaving the room and leaving you standing there, frozen on your spot.

so you did what he threatened you to do. you quit your job. without giving explanations.

all of your friends texted you, tried to reach you in some way but you never answered back.

he was controlling your phone, who you called, who you texted, what you posted on your socials. he became too invasive that at some point, you weren’t allowed outside without him.

rhea and damian, your best friends became worried about you, especially when they didn’t see you at the airport when you were all supposed to leave together for the european tour.

“what you mean she quit?” rhea asked jey.

“i don’t know man, she did. no one told me anything else. she simply quit without giving any explanation man…i’m worried for her, she wasn’t the same person anymore” jey said, making feel damian more insecure.

damian had a crush on you. he did from the first day he saw you, and he was heartbroken when he found out you had a boyfriend. but he didn’t want to ruin your relationship so he was okay with just being friend with you.

he was the first person to notice about your sudden change. the dress you wore were more covering - not that he minded what you were wearing, but he loved your coloured and crazy style that he was kinda shocked to see you wearing black long sleeve dresses everyday. he noticed the way you talked less and smiled less, he noticed how you stopped going to the gym with rhea, he noticed that you would eat less and less and alone.

he knew something was up, he just didn’t know what.

and now, the news that you quit.

he knew he had to reach out to you once he came back from the tour, even if it meant breaking your house down.

two weeks into the european tour and he finally was coming back home with all the crew. while being away he tried to call you many times but he was always sent to voicemail.

“i can’t do this anymore…something’s wrong, i can feel it” damian said to rhea once he was driving back to his home.

“you wanna go check on her?”

“not now…she’s probably asleep. i’m going tomorrow, when she’s home alone…” he said, gripping stronger at the wheel.

rhea just nodded, knowing that talking about you was hurtful for damian.

and so the first thing damian did was to wait until you were home alone. when he saw your boyfriend leaving was the moment he stepped out of his car and knocked on your front door.

his heart broke when he saw your face.

you had a purple bruise covering half of your left cheek and your eyes, they didn’t sparkle like they used to do.

“y/n…” he sadly smiled at you.

“dam - damian, what are you doing here?”

“i wanted to check on you…” he said and you softly smiled, letting him inside the house.

“i’m good damian, how are you by the way?” you tried to avoid the conversation that was coming.

“you’re not good y/n…what happened to your cheek?” he asked, a little too worried.

“oh i fell” you said causally but damian wasn’t having any of it.

“definitely not a bruise from a fall…y/n, can you please look at me?” he asked you softly stepping in front of you.

tears were already forming in your eyes.

“did he do this?” was all he asked before your eyes betrayed you and you let those tears fall “oh sweetie…” he whispered before wrapping his muscular arms around you.

it’s been a long time since someone hugged you like that and you didn’t want to let go. you felt safe in his arms but you knew it was coming to an end.

“is he the reason you quit your job?” he asked and you nodded, too scared to speak “look at me love…” he softly smiled, gently wiping your tears away “you’re coming with me…i’m not letting you stay here okay?”

“i-i can’t damian…”

“yes you can love, i’m not letting you stay here with that dick…he doesn’t fucking deserve you, not after this, i’m so sorry i didn’t realize what was going on before…”

“its not your fault dam” you said.

“so…are you coming with me?” he asked, hopeful.

“o-okay…”

“i’ll help you pack love…you’re staying with me for all the time you need okay?” he gently asked you and you nodded.

when your boyfriend came back home and saw that all of your clothes were missing, he went crazy. he knew he would have happened sometimes but he never thought that you would actually leave him.

he tried to call you and text you but you blocked his number. damian even turned your phone off so you could focus on your self a little more.

damian was so kind and patient with you. he firstly offered you his own bedroom but you couldn’t accept it, so he gave up and gave you the guest bedroom. the first few nights were completely nightmares, you couldn’t fall asleep and every time you did, you would wake up with a scream. but damian was always there for you, he helped you calm down after a bad dream, he held you if you wanted him to do so, he wiped your tears away everytime you woke up crying.

he was always there for you and you couldn’t be more grateful.

of course - if damian knew, rhea knew. you wanted to keep it a secret, the whole “violent boyfriend thing” - you didn’t want people to know about it.

eventually hunter found out and he was more than happy to give you your job back. he even suggested that you would be accompanied by guards from home to work and viceversa.

but somehow your ex found out too. he saw you were back working on tv, he saw you were enjoying more time with your friends again and he couldn’t accept it, so, after a failed attempt of breaking into damian’s home, you had to ask for a restraining order.

damian was always by your side, trying to give you your own space but keeping an eye on you.

you’ve spent two months now with him, and, even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself you were falling for him, more and more every day. you weren’t used to be treated with such love and care, and all damian did was natural for him.

but even if you were feeling better the nightmares never stopped.

“no, please don’t” you screamed but your boyfriend was just staring at you with a mischievous smile.

“don’t what uh?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“don’t hurt me please, i-i will do anything you want to but please…don’t hurt me again…” but no matter how you begged, he wasn’t listening and so his strong hand met your face once again.

you woke up with a loud scream and damian, being only two doors away from you, came running to your bedroom.

you were heavily breathing and your eyes were full of tears.

“hey hey it’s okay…” he whispered gently sitting next to you.

you involuntarily flinched when you heard him talking.

“it’s me amor…it’s me, it’s damian…” he softly talked to you “breath with me…let’s breath together okay?” and you did as he told you.

his hand softly reached your face and wiped away your tears. you melted into his touch and he felt that. he wanted to scream how much he loved you but he didn’t want to scare you away.

“i’m sorry for waking you up…go back to sleep” you apologised.

“i’m not leaving you here…don’t apologise for this”

“i don’t want to keep being a burden for you and-…”

“stop it right there…hermosa, you are not a burden for me, you’ll never be a burden for me, you’re…i care for you, so much…i-i” he wanted to say he loved you but couldn’t “you will never be alone okay? i’ll be here for all the time you need me to”

“can you please stay here with me until i fall asleep?” you shyly asked him, hating how vulnerable you sounded.

“absolutely love…come here” he laid down and let you lay in his arms, the place where you felt more protected.

“thank you damian…i mean it”

“there’s nothing to thank me for…”

“damian…”

“yes?”

“i care for you too…maybe more than a friend should” you confessed “but it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, i just wanted to let you know, nothing would change our friendship”

“i want to change our friendship though…i wish we could be more than friends” he confessed too, making your heart skip a beat.

“what?”

“you heard me right y/n…i like you, a lot. i’ve always liked you but i didn’t want to interfere with your relationship, if i only knew what was really going on behind closed doors…i won’t rush you to do anything…we’re going slow if you want to…”

“i want to damian, i want to have a relationship with you i just” you were scared honestly “i’ve never been loved before, i don’t know how to love again…”

“it’s okay y/n…it’s okay…we’ll take things slow love”

“thank you damian…” you thanked him “but…i would really like to kiss you now…”

“we can do that” he smirked making you smile. his soft hand caressing the cheek where once there was a huge bruise, he leaned over you and captured your lips over his big ones. the kiss was soft, full of warmth and love that a tear of happiness fell from your eyes.

he smiled into the kiss, making you smile too.

“i liked that…” you confessed making him chuckle.

“good night hermosa…sleep well” he said when he saw you yawning.

his hand scratched your head, making you fall asleep faster than ever, his arms around you making you feel safe.

#wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe x you #damian priest #wwe imagines #wwe one shot #wwe x oc #damian priest x reader #wwe damian priest #damian priest x oc #damian priest oneshot #damian priest x you #damian priest fanfic #damian priest smut #damian priest imagine #damian priest wwe #wwe damian priest x reader #damian priest x y/n #damian priest x finn balor #damian priest fluff #damian priest angst #damian priest story #wwe story #the judgment day x you #the judgment day one shot #wwe the judgment day #the judgment day fluff

[eyesxxyou]

❝ sunshine pt.3 ❞ (hobie brown x male!reader)

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. hobie x male!reader. reader pretends to hate dislike hobie. gay longing. denial of feelings. switch!hobie. switch!reader. missionary. save a horse ride a cowboy. using cum as lube. hobie being a tease. after your time in the bathroom, it's hard to deny your feelings for hobie. it's even harder to deny when hobie shows up on your doorstep.

Hobie Brown liked you.

He liked you from the very moment he met you. You were responsible, respectable, with enough sense in that brain of yours to last the both of you. You were quiet yet not shy and willing to speak your mind when need be. You were mean but in a nice way, in a way that really showed you cared more than you ever wanted to let on. He might have liked that most about you. Or it would be your lips that he liked the most. After all, he’s finally gotten a taste of them twice now.

You and Hobie met at a party through Riri. She had introduced you two and you had given him a once over and, looking rather unimpressed, dismissed him in the most polite way you possibly could. Hobie thought you to be prissy and stuck up and was ready to dismiss you as well as just that until he saw you glancing at him throughout the night, always within view of him. He knew you liked him right away, simply playing, or convincing yourself, that you didn’t. He thought it was cute. 

You were avoiding him again. More so than before. According to your other shared friends, you weren’t even leaving your apartment. You didn’t want to risk any chance of running into Hobie on the street and being forced to confront your undeniable feelings right then and there.

But you had to talk about what happened eventually…right? You would have to talk to him eventually.

Would flowers be appropriate? Would they make you more upset? Imply something that was never there in the first place? Or would they soothe the undoubted rage you would feel upon seeing Hobie at your door when all you wanted was to be left alone with your thoughts. You didn't need him coming in and stirring shit up but Hobie wouldn't be himself if he didn't stir the pot just a little.

Hobie decided no flowers, not yet, you weren't ready for something like that. It would send you into a spiral, turn you off to any idea of simply talking to him.

He stood at your door for approximately 10 minutes, simply debating if disturbing you would be worth it. Hobie had the chance to make things a whole lot worse but also the chance to remedy your pain and confusion. He would be remiss if he didn’t at least try to make things better between the two of you. So he knocked, nervous for one of the few times in his life.

It was clear you didn't expect him to be at your doorstep when you opened the door. Your bored gaze widened into something of surprise, or maybe that’s fear he was seeing. You didn't hesitate to try and close the door on him but Hobie stuck his boot between the door and the frame to stop you. “Wai’, wai’, sunshine please, hol’ on.” He pleaded softly, sticking his hand through the crack to pry the door open but you had a surprising amount of strength.

“Could you stop fucking calling me that? It’s stupid and annoying.” Your words hold a bitter taste to them. Your lips are pressed into a firm scowl as you look at him. Your hands balled into fist pinned to your sides. “Why are you here, Hobie? I’m not feeling well” You let out a feeble cough to punctuate your point. It’s unconvincing even to you.

Hobie leaned against your doorframe and looked at you with those heavy-set eyes you found yourself thinking about far too often. “Ya haven’ been answerin’ ma calls.” His voice was soft compared to yours. It makes you feel a bit ridiculous for being so angry. But your anger was righteous; you had every justifiable reason to be upset.

“When do I ever answer your calls?”

“Touché.” Hobie tried to play nonchalant, shrugging his shoulders dismissively, shifting his gaze to the side. But — God — if only you knew how anxious he was to speak to you. His mouth ran dry and his palms, usually cool, where now hot and clammy. “But we still need t’ chat. Don' wan’cha goin’ ‘round thinkin’ I was just tryna get off or somethin’.” 

You’re colder than usual to him, scoffing at his every word. Hobie was starting to think you might actually hate him. But if he’s right, and he nearly always is, you like him far more than you want to let on, you always have. This was all denial, a front, a way to protect your fragile world view and delicate self-image.

You turn yourself away from him, eyes shifting, head low. You don’t want to talk. Is it so hard to just be left alone?

Hobie could see you were shutting down. “Look– I’m no’ ‘ere to tell ya who ya are and who ya aren'. ‘M jus’ here fo’ support.” He was gentle, his lips twitched into a half-hearted smile, trying to be friendly and cordial. As much as someone like him can be.

Maybe it’s then that you realized the fact that he was just trying to offer you some kindness at a point in your life where you might have needed it most. You were so unsure of yourself, who you were, what you did. You always knew Hobie wasn’t a bad person, but you never knew he could be so tender.

You pursed your lips and sighed with defeat before opening the door a little more to let him through. His boots made your floorboards creak under the weight of them as he walked into your flat, his hand shoved into the pockets of his spiked and studded leather jacket. He was too comfortable, too cool for your liking. Or maybe you were too tense for his.

You closed the door behind him and crossed your arms over your chest as if to protect yourself. Your body language screamed defensive, closed, unwilling to listen. Your eyes shifted from side to side but never linger on Hobie for long. Back against the door, you shifted your weight from foot to foot, heel to toe. “I don’t know what you think is going on between us, what you think we share, but I’m not interested. It shouldn’t have happened.” You spat out, more at yourself than at him. “It was a mistake.”

Hobie grunted. “Way t’make a guy feel good ‘bout ‘imself.” He wasn’t hurt about it. You were going through a lot right now. And your words said more than you ever cared to say. 

“I’m not gay, Hobie.” You say a little forcefully, watching with a sort of meticulousness as Hobie wandered his way closer to you. You watched him shrug as if it didn’t matter. “So wha’? I wouldn’ call myself gay either, I jus’ like who I like.” He slid his hands from his pockets, his approach still slow and steady. You didn’t dare look away from him or make a motion in any other direction.

“‘M no askin’ you t’be gay, sunshine.”

You swallowed as Hobie reached out and placed his large hand on your hip and closed the space between your bodies. This was the very reason why you didn’t want to be around him, because you knew that if he made a motion for you, you wouldn’t have the strength to pull away.

You wanted him. You wanted him carnally, wanted him the way one being always longs for another. You wanted his hands, his lips, his cock. You wanted all of him and more. Just one more time, one more time and you’d expel him from your mind and you’d be done with it all together.

You looked at him, desperation filling your glossy eyes like tears. “Then what do you want from me, Hobie? I don’t understand.” You don’t understand yourself anymore. You don’t know yourself. All you know is that you're wildly and completely, head over heels, desperately fiending to have him again and you didn't know what that meant about yourself.

Hobie stroked your hip tenderly with his thumb. “I jus’ wan’cha t’like me back. Is tha’ so hard?”

You turned your head away, lips pursed to stop them from trembling. You were utterly terrified. Terrified because you do like him back. You like him more than you ever wanted to let on. Everything you despise about him, his saunter, his carelessness, his full laughter, his smile, is truly everything you adored about him and he had seen right through you the entire time.

“I do like you.” It feels so good to get off your chest, to finally say it out loud. You look at Hobie, eyes hard yet glassy. Your lips are pressed firmly.

Hobie didn't understand. “Then wha’s the problem?” If he liked you and you liked him, why were you so against being with him? It wasn't like you’d lose your friends, they were totally accepting of queerness if not queer themselves. And so what if anyone else judged you? You never cared about anyone’s opinion before.

“I thought you were the most annoying person in the world just a few weeks ago. I still do. So what if we like each other? That doesn't mean we’re meant to be together. I’ve known myself well all my life. I’ve known what I wanted, who I wanted, where I wanted to be-”

“This is ‘bout’cha feelin’ like ya don' know yerself anymore?” Hobie scoffed. “Things change, sunshine. Life happens. Grow up.” It was harsh, but you needed to hear it. You liked men, Hobie specifically, men generally. Who cares? Not him, not your friends, not the people that matter in your life. “If I like you and you like me, wouldn' i’ make the most sense for us to at least try to make sometin’ outta this?”

You were silent. Utterly and terribly silent. You didn't know what else to say. You felt ridiculous for holding on to this idea of yourself that you’d never live up to. You couldn’t believe you were admitting this but Hobie was making sense. Who cares if you like men, like him. Sure, it might come as a shock to everyone but in the end, what does it truly matter?

You look at Hobie with big eyes and your hands reached out to pull him a little closer. Who cares, you told yourself. The guilt still ate away at you but with time, you knew it would go away.

Hobie deemed it safe to kiss you. He was cautious, easing his lips onto yours, tender and innocent until it wasn’t. It was all the sum of their parts. Lips, teeth, tongue, passion, drowning desire. You reciprocated with the same timid carefulness of someone unsure of how to be gentle, how to be intimate without being aggressive.

Hobie’s fingers curled into the fabric of your shorts, pulling you closer until your body was flush with his. Your arms fell over his shoulders, fingers mindlessly scratching at the nape of his neck while your teeth nip softly at his lip piercing. He pressed you to the wall much like you had done to him that night in the bathroom and pressed his body closer to yours. You didn’t mind that all his spikes in studs were digging into your flesh. You welcomed his sharp abrasiveness.

You guided Hobie to the couch, where the two of you fell into a tangle of limbs and caressing touches. Hobie was on top of you, his large hands still on your hips but slowly beginning to roam about your body while the two of you kissed. 

Fuck, he was hard already but so were you so it made the matter all the less embarrassing. Your arousal only made him harder, more desperate for you. Hobie’s hands grasped at your hips and waist in an act of worship, before sliding between your legs to palm at your aching cock pressing against the front of your underwear.

“Hobie~” you whined softly, moaning onto the fullness of his lips before your tongue sought out his once more. “Fuck, fuck, just like that.” You should be embarrassed by how desperate you are, you both should. Your hands ferally tug at each other's clothing, just enough to get your cocks out and rutting against each other. His was bigger than yours, thicker, with veins running along the sides. He was uncut and pretty. And the direct comparison of your sizes made your cock twitch and leak onto your stomach. His precum dripped down and mingled with yours.

Hobie was not shy about rutting his hips and rubbing his length against yours. Your hands continued to pull off clothing after clothing. His vest, your shirt, his pants then yours. Until you both were totally nude, minus the spiked collar Hobie still wore.

“I don’t– I don’t know what to do.” You said between bated breaths and eager kisses. Hobie pressed his hips down against yours and you whimpered just slightly. You felt his smooth yet scarred skin under your palms and felt at ease. You looked at him almost pathetically and felt your face grow hot as Hobie rolled his hips into yours and chuckled at you. The leaky tip of his cock rubbed the underside of your mushroom head and you shivered.

Hobie’s lovely lips kissed your cheek and began to hover over your jaw and down your neck. “I’ll show ya, sunshine. We’ll take turns, yeah?” He suddenly became as sweet as sugar, so sweet you could taste it on your tongue when he kissed you again. “I’ll show ya how t’do i’, then you can do i’ t’me.”

He was so gentle when he touched you, but you writhed and squirmed with every trace of his fingers along your body. “Do ya have lube?” He murmured against your flesh as he kissed a small sweet spot at the base of your neck. You nodded, a bit slowly. “I think… It’s somewhere in my room. I never needed to — fuck — use it before.” For the life of you, you couldn’t remember exactly where it was. Your brain was too fuzzy, Hobie was starting to move his hips faster and the way his cockhead rubbed yours was starting to make you delirious. “I can’t remember,” you murmur hazily. “I can’t remember, I can’t remember. God, please don’t stop.”

“Yer actin’ like this ‘n ‘m not even fuckin’ ya yet.” Hobie chuckled lowly into your ear. It tickled and you weren’t sure if that’s what made you shiver or the way he wrapped his lithe fingers around your cocks and squeezed just enough to apply a perfectly delicious amount of pressure.

You couldn’t help but to roll your hips into his hand while Hobie thrusted his forward. He watched the way you huffed and whimpered, almost whining. You squeezed your eyes shut and simply let yourself feel his length against yours. His tip rubbed yours, precum leaking onto your slit. It was just enough to make you come undone.

You didn’t even know you came until you felt it pool all over your tummy. Your eyes opened, bleary and out of focus as your cock twitched. You reached down, looking up at Hobie who was pushing his hips in shallow thrusts. He was close, you could tell just by the way he moaned, deep and pretty like he was singing just for you.

You reached down and dragged your thumb over his dark tip, pressing against his slit and rubbing in short, tender strokes. Hobie’s hips shuddered and his lips parted just enough to let out something of a guttural groan. “Fuck– ‘m close, sunshine. Yer doin’ so good.”

Hobie came soon after you, with a few more short rubs of his tip, he spilled out all over your hand and tummy, his cum pooling in with yours into a large, milky puddle. It was warm, a bit more viscous than yours, came out in globs that landed on your abdomen.

Hobie leaned in and kissed you once again. You melted into him, your hands cupping his face to pull him closer. “Please fuck me, Hobie.” You plead with him, panting into his mouth with a desperation you’ve never before known. You parted your legs wider, exposing yourself to him, offering yourself to him. You looked so handsome like that, legs spread and cum on your belly. “Use our cum if you have to. Please, I need it.”

He was taken aback by your eagerness to be fucked. “This’ll be ya first time bottoming, yeah?” You nod sheepishly. Hobie smiles that smile you’d usually scoff at but now, all you could do is marvel at it. You swooned at it, your lips pulling into the smallest smile of its own. “Will you let me fuck you after?” You ask in the smallest voice as if you were almost embarrassed by your request. But you couldn’t help it. “Please, I really wanna fuck you.”

“Awww ya wanna fuck me, sunshine?” Hobie crooned at you. He laughed robustly as you slapped his shoulder and turned your face away. “You can always leave, dickhead.” He kissed at your neck and chest, nipping slightly at your skin. “You don’ wan’ me t’do tha’.” Hobie continued to kiss at your neck while dragging his fingers through the puddle of cum on your tummy.

Your lips parted and a small gasp left you as the pad of his fingers circled over the tight rim of your puckered hole.

“Ya wanna prep first, jus’ tease i’ open.” Hobie pressed a singer against your hole, listening to your soft whines as his finger eased into you. The intrusion felt odd, but not bad. He whispered for you to relax. “‘M no’ gonna hurt’cha.” He gathered more cum and made sure his path was nice and slick. “‘M gonna add another finger.”

“Just do it— please.”

Hobie wasted no time sliding another slickened finger into your taut hole, his eyes watching the way you bite your lip and stifle a whimper. His fingers didn’t search for your prostate, his cock would do that work for him. He was just focused on opening you up and ensuring that you’d be ready to take him. Your hands gripped his shoulders. Your face twisted, not exactly with discomfort. It was a feeling you could get used to with time.

Hobie and that dimpled smile that grove you mad. You almost wanted to say something but every time you opened your mouth, you simply cried out. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” You were desperate, every desire you’ve ever had spilling out of your mouth, every fantasy you’ve had about him since that night in your closet. You wanted him to fuck you, you wanted to fuck him, you wanted you bodies to melt into one another.

And when Hobie pulled his fingers from your wanton hole and gathered more cum to spread down his length, you prepared yourself for an unbearable pain. You’ve seen porn like this but no one has ever been nearly as big as him. 

He placed his tip against your wet hole, looked at your face for any sign of pain, and slowly eased himself in.

Your mouth fell open and your back arched as you whimpered. You could feel him splitting you open, parting your tight walls to make space for him. Your walls were molded to his cock. Hobie groaned above you, hands gripping at your hips and thighs to ground himself. “Ya feel so good, sunshine. Bloody hell. Stay still f’me.”

But you couldn't, you wiggled and writhed with something of discomfort and pleasure. His intrusion was not exactly welcome but certainly not discouraged. The sounds that left you were ones you’ve never heard before. They were new and unknown, whiny and loud as Hobie pressed against something soft and sensitive inside you. Suddenly discomfort was welcome and you needed more.

He pressed his hips flush to yours, rolling his hips and offering shallow thrusts that made him poke and prod at that spot that made your toes curl. You tossed your head back, eyes rolling back into your head, fingernails sinking into his flesh. “Hobie, Hobie, Hobie.” You whimpered as he buckled down and pulled out only to fuck himself back into you.

Hobie was desperate, ravenous, trying so hard not to hurt you while also satisfying his need to have you. He loved the way you sang for him, your whiny moans growing higher with each thrust into your hole. You trembled and you sang and you opened your legs wider to feel him deeper if such a thing was really possible. You could feel him in your throat, choking.

Your orgasm came so quick you hardly had the chance to say anything before you were squealing, your cock leaking more cum onto your tummy with a few hard twitches. Your mind was so hazy, but you had enough sense to hide your face in the bend of your elbow to hide from the embarrassment of coming so swiftly.

You expected Hobie to laugh at you, tease you for it. But he gently took your arm from you face and leaned down to pepper kisses across your heated face. “I’s okay, sunshine. I’s ya first time. Only right you’d be sensitive.” His fingers traced up and down your side as he placed his lips on yours and kissed you with a tenderness you still couldn’t believe he was capable of.

“Y’want me t’keep goin’ or do y’want yer turn?”

He made you feel safe and comfortable. As comfortable you could be having sex with another man.

“Can you ride me? I wanna look at you.” 

Hobie chuckled, slowly pulling out of you with a pop that made you shiver. “So obsessed with me.” Your lips tugged into a lighthearted scowl that soon faded as Hobie scooped up your cum from your abdomen and reached back to prep himself, slowly sinking a finger into his ass, soon followed by another.

You watched, dazed and amazed, admiring the contours of his face as he let out a breathy little moan. Hobie smirked at you, “like what’cha see?” You didn’t have enough sass left in you to pretend that you didn’t. You just wanted him, to feel him, to make him cum like he made you cum. You wanted his pleasure, wanted him.

You sat up into a sitting position and watched as Hobie came and straddled your lap. Your hands found purchase on his boney hips and he looked into your eyes as he stroked your cock with his cum-covered hand. “Le’s see how fast I can get’cha t’cum this time.”

“You don’t have to rub it in my face.”

“No’ rubbin’ i’ ya face, sunshine. I jus’ think i’s cute.” Hobie leaned down and kissed you again, just a peck that left you wanting more. He settled down and positioned your cock against his hole before slowly and carefully sinking down onto you.

It felt different than being with a woman, tighter, warmer, less wet. A moan ripped from your throat, your mouth falling open to gasp and shudder. Your hands stroked Hobie’s sides to soothe yourself. “Fuck– Hobie~ God, you feel so good.” You were gasping for air, breathless. Your cock was still sensitive. You’d cum in no time.

Hobie grinned, settling into your lap, rolling his slender hips into yours. He rode you slowly at first, drawing out noises no other person has ever made you vocalize before. He cooed at you, his lips on yours, his tongue in your open mouth. Then he rode you hard and fast, with the skill of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

You were borderline pathetic. Rendered down to nothing more but a gasping, whimpering, drooling mess. You should have more self-respect, but Hobie was taking any semblance of it from you. His hole squeezed you tight, a vice grip that left your eyes rolling. “Ngh, mmh~” You were writhing beneath him, hands gripping, nails sinking into flesh.

You held Hobie close. His chest to yours, his cock slapping against your wet abdomen, his fingers laced into your hair. There was something so terribly intimate about it, how close you two were. The desperation on both parts was thick in the air, hot with the smell of sweat and sex. When Hobie stopped kissing you, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You two looked at each other and you felt as though your face had been shoved into lava.

Hobie grinded his hips down and his head lulled back. You had touched his soft spot and he let out a pretty, baritone moan. He squeezed you tight and stroked your cock softly and just as Hobie had suspected, you came, without warning. You had meant to cum on the outside, your hands attempting to push Hobie off of you when your cock began to twitch, but he seemed intent on staying.

You came inside, nice and deep, your hips shuddering. Hobie groaned, low and loud, and came onto you stomach and chest.

You both were left panting, tired and suddenly sore. Hobie looked at you, waiting for that moment where it all switches and you realize that you’ve made another mistake– where you suddenly become cold again. You looked up at him, eyes unsure but softly pleading for reassurance. “Please tell me this wasn’t a mistake.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Hobie got up off of you and sat on his heels beside you. His hands traced imaginary shapes into your cum-covered chest before leaning in to litter pecks across your face. “I’ wasn’ a mistake, sunshine. Nothin’ we did was a mistake.” His lips finally found yours and you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. His lips soothed you.

“Le’s see where this takes us. We don’ have t’put a label on i’ righ’ now.”

You looked rather sheepish, turning your head away from him. “What if I want to put a label on it?” If you were going to do this, you wanted to do it right. You wanted Hobie to belong to you and you to belong to him. “Don’t get me wrong, you still annoy the hell out of me and sometimes I want to knock you over the head with a frying pan, but I want us to be something.”

There was that smile, that gorgeous, charming, irritating smile. It was so cocky, so arrogant, so Hobie. You adored it.

“Then le’s be something’.”

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #spiderman #spider punk #hobie brown x male reader #hobie brown smut #hobie smut #atsv hobie smut #spiderpunk smut #spiderpunk x male reader #sunshine

[obsessive-valentine]

What if when farmer takes his monthly shopping spree with reader stuck sitting in the car they decide that they’re close enough to others to finally escape or tell someone about their situation with farmer.

Escape - Dark-Yandere!Farmer x GN!Reader

Content waning! This isn’t one of my usual soft yans -A lot of threats, gaslighting, acts of and -even more thoughts of- violence and murder. Our usually stoic farmer has reached his wits end when his anger issues are triggered once again and he’ll be sure darling won’t have the gall or means to even think of doing such a thing ever again.

He’d try not to escalate the situation if he didn’t have to but he is capable of murdering your wanna be saviour if it comes down to it, then hiding the body in the pick up truck bed till he gets home to feed it to the dogs.

He tries to contain his anger on the car ride back, until he can put darling away in the shed and have a day or two to reset and calm down, then he goes into victim blaming, fear mongering and gaslight mode to scare darling back in place and will continue doing this for a few days until darling is sure to not even think of such an act again.

Even though there’s no way for them to escape now since he refuses to take darling with him into town for a long long time, instead he locks them in the shed when he has to go into a town.

...

He’d warned you that afternoon before you both got in the old pick-up truck “you’re not to leave the truck, you hear me? If I see you so much as to look out the window to another person there will be hell to pay” he locked the front door of the house and you nodded to yourself. You weren’t sure if you should be exited or nervous, you weren’t sure you wanted to go at all.

Part of you excited to see a town and real people, you’d been isolated with just animals and a kidnapper for so long you’d long given up hope of living a mundane small town life. But all this raised another problem, the temptation to escape. You’d be trapped in the truck alone for some time so you must be able to escape at some point, but if that fails, you’d hate to think what he’d do to you. He has a nasty temper.

Most the ride was landscapes and bumpy roads, you knew it’s impossible to walk all this way but you’ve thought about it before, you’d run as far as you could and then lay down on one of the country roads when you get to exhausted and hope someone (other than him) finds you. But you’d never get passed the dogs, it was still devastating to be reminded how far from the towns you were.

The closer to the town you both got houses started popping up, quaint little cottages with pretty little gardens and fences. You day dreamed what it would be like to live there with a loving husband and a happy little family, maybe you’d keep chickens in the back and drive into town for work in a flower shop or small caffe.

You stopped yourself before you became to attached to a life that not yours to live, instead you continued to toss around the idea of escaping, running through dozens of possibilities and outcomes. Still unsure if you’d have the gall to follow through with any of them.

...

The sky was getting dim by the time town houses began popping up, the town is quieter than it would have been in the afternoon. Though you presume that’s what your kidnapper wanted, you’d gathered that he’s pretty antisocial. But some people were out. You felt the atmosphere in the truck get tense the further into town you both got and remember his warnings, so you kept your head down and listened to the radio instead.

He pulled into a quiet parking lot in and he parked in a far corner, he unbuckled his seat belt and for a moment you thought he was just going to leave without another word. But he turned to you, the most serious you’ve seen him “do you want anything?” The question caught you off guard and sat like a gaping fish for a second.

You blurted out one of your favourite sweets. Maybe you could get him to spend more time in there looking for it, giving you more time to escape. He nodded like he was taking a mental note, and then as if he could read your mind he said “I’ll be quicker than you think, be good” he seemed to search your eyes for something before hesitatingly locking the door and walking away.

You watched him enter the shop and immediately tried the door handle even though you heard him lock the car, it’s one of those old pick-ups with a separate key for the door so there was no other way to unlock them. Then you began rummaging through the draws and pockets for anything that could help, maybe a phone, a spare key to the door or engine maybe something capable of breaking the window. It was far fetched and knew you wouldn’t find anything but you’d regret it if you didn’t try.

At some point you refocused your attention, you needed to have someone help you. Finally a person left the store and almost got in their car until they heard your yelling and banging on the window. Your voice was muffled by the glass, so they started to hurry over closer to the car but suddenly stops walking and turns their head away. You follow their gaze and there stands you kidnapper.

He’s smiling at him carrying a few bags, you can’t catch what he’s saying but he seems to be explaining an excuse. You must have misjudged the time, there’s no working clocks or watches in the car so between you loosing track of time and him being a fast shopper, he’s caught you out. And you’ve never felt so sick as the blood drained from your face.

He walks closer to the truck and places the bags in the back before pulling the tarp over the bed, they continue talking but the person doesn’t seem convinced by whatever words he’s muttering. Hope still lingers but fear and regret is quickly taking over, making you shake and nauseous.

“Look it’s nice to meet you but we really need to get home” your kidnapper smilies while he opens the door, it’s so fake it makes you cringe, he’s never sounded to polite or looked so friendly. You want to shout out for help but the door shuts -and before you can process what’s happening you hear a click and a pocket knife is pressed to your thigh.

“Smile and wave at him before we leave or i slice these pretty thighs open” he growls through his teeth, using the other hand to turn on the engine and put the truck in gear. You feel the knife dig into your thigh harder “go on then, look happy -or I stop this car, kill your little saviour and take the back to the farm and give the dogs a little treat, the bloods on your hands honey” the knife drags an inch...he’s loosing his patience.

You’re out witted and out muscled. You’re sure that you and that innocent person will be dead within the hour if you didn’t give him what he wanted. You give a weak little wave and forced tight lipped smile, they seem reassured by the gesture and hesitantly walks back to their car after your kidnapper gave them another little wave. A fair well. There goes your saviour. “Good choice” he’s fuming still but withdraws the knife and races out of town back on the country roads.

A few drops of blood trickles off your thigh and onto the seat, and you begin to feel the sting after a few minutes of shock. It’s deathly silent, you see his hands grip the steering wheel turning his fingertips white and palms make the leather creak when he readjusts his tight grip.

He wasn’t one to be quiet when he’s angry, he’s usually very verbal when he’s angry and quiet when he’s content. You spent so many weeks studying his behaviour and facial expressions -to predict him -and now you’re as confused and afraid as the first time you met him. You’d never seen him act like this.

You didn’t dare speak first, instead you watched the town disappear from the corner of your eye as you stared at the footwell like a guilty dog. You didn’t dare move a muscle keeping rigidly still, gripping the leather seat beneath you.

He dragged a hand down his face, before letting go of a frustrated sigh. He was struggling to keep focused on the now bumpy country roads, he felt his burning anger in every inch of his body. “You had to go ruin all that progress, i was foolish for believing you knew your place? hu?” He spoke low, you could hear the snarl and imagined his crazed eyes. You still couldn’t lift your sorrowful gaze from the footwell, so you couldn’t confirm that.

“ANSWER ME YOU BRAT!” You flinched and your heart felt like it stopped for a moment before starting again at a much faster rate “ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED?! IT FUCKING SEEMS LIKE IT” you knew what he meant, he’s a slave to his temper and there’s a possibility you could fall victim to it -no matter how many times you try console yourself that he’s held himself back from harming you physically many times before.

“-I’m sorry” was all you could choke out, your not sure anything you say would calm him down -it would likely make his temper worse. He went quiet once again, acknowledging the apology with a slight nod and a heavy huff. He tried to contain himself during the rest of the ride back, but the tension was thick and his anger still yet to die down even a bit. His hands still heavy on the wheel, the hour journey was cut almost in half with how he was speeding, and occasionally he’d shoot degrading comments.

He needed to get home, he needed space and time to process what you’d done. He’s utterly fuming with rage but not hate, that’s what was saving you from him pulling over the car and violently ‘correcting’ you right there, he had to remind himself that he’d regret hurting you, that he still loves you.

...

The car was haphazardly parked in the dirt drive next to the house and he, without a word, left the car and slammed the door. A few dogs came over to investigate and greet their owners but it seemed even the dogs could sense the tension and kept their distance and stopped wagging their tails. They were there to witness him storm around the front of the car and swing your door open.

“Get out” his tone threatening as he glared down at you, you struggled to unbuckle your belt, your fingers shaking. You stumbled out the car when your legs failed you, they felt like jelly. He slammed the door before taking your wrist firmly in his hand before pulling you behind him, he’s walking so such pace and intent -paired with your jelly like legs- that you stumbled a few more times.

You caught on pretty quick that it was the shed that you both were headed to. “I’d asked one thing of you, well you’ve really fucked yourself over now darlin’” dread clouded your rational thinking, your steps faltered and in instinctively tried pulling your arm away as you pleaded with him.

He didn’t even glance back at you, instead replied with a harsh pull on your wrist -he continued storming towards the shed. He ignored his as he unlocked the chains and pulled the wooden latch, he gave no sympathy as he pushed you into the shed, then showed no hesitance as he shut the door.

“You better get used to this shed, I’ll leave you in there forever if that what it takes to teach you” you could hear his temper unraveling, uncontrollable hate dripping from his words. The locks all slid into place and he left. Leaving you in the dark, sitting on a generous layer of hay, in tears and regret.

Light only source of comfort was the dim light of the evening creeping through the wood cracks and the occasional dog coming over shoving their wet nose against the door, sniffing for you, wondering why you’re in there. But even that faded as the day went on, the light disappeared with the sun and most the dogs sleeping on the covered porch and barn or guarding the livestock. One or two slept outside the shed it it was little comfort when you couldn’t see, hear or feel them.

Instead the shed turned pitch black you could have sworn your eyes were closed, the darkness brought bitter cold and goosebumps. The bugs in the hay crawled around sometimes tickling your leg, you’d grown used to bug having been on the farm for a while but this brought great discomfort due to the fact you could no longer see where or what was crawling around.

You kept reminding yourself that any minute now he’d be back, that how it went the other times you found yourself here. He’d leave you in the shed for a few hours then return usually before midnight to give you a calm ultimatum, he’d still be angry but willing to work through it with you.

Hope began to fade as what felt like hours passed, your toes and fingers became numb so you pushed them into the bug infested hay for some warmth to stop the burning cold. Eyelids grew heavy from exhaustion and burned from the crying. You’re sure you’ve never been left in here for this long but held onto hope that it was just bad time perception from the exhaustion. You went from preparing yourself for when he returned to desperately hoping your kidnapper would return.

All hope left after you’d blinked awake from a uncomfortable short nap to find yourself still in the shed. You pressed you’re face against the shed and peered through the crack to see the sky turn from black to a dark blue. It was almost dawn, you’d entered at dusk and been left here all night. Legs stung from bug bites, fingers and toes ached from the cold, everything itched from the cold, eyes and ears ached from the dark and deafening silence.

...

He’d left you in the shed without looking back and stormed into the house, he’d allowed his anger to boil over now you were out of grasp. The door slammed shut as he dropped his keys on the small table in the entry way, only to then letting his intrusive anger win and swipe everything off the table after seeing some of your items left there. Your items -one being a beloved pan of paint you’d left there after coming inside after painting the landscapes outside, his keys and a decorative pot now lay on the floor, he stepped over most while some others crunched under his heavy boots.

He stormed into the living room and shrugged off his jacket leaving it on the floor, he lit a cigarette and paced the room. For most of the evening he paced, ranted-shouted, smoked and shoved items that reminded him of you onto the floor or out of view. He even put a few fist holes in the walls and considered taking his hunting gun out to blow of some steam but decided it’s not best to hold a gun when he’s angry and around you.

He settled down in the night on the sofa with the tv muttering in the background as he stared into nothingness, taking a drag from one of many cigarettes. Finally his temper under control, finally he could think clearly... for the most part. How stupid he feels for trusting you, obviously you need more structure and punishment,

Much like you he didn’t sleep much, at some point in early ams he left the house back to the truck to bring in the shopping having nothing better to do. He was forced to walk through the house that he’d wrecked, there was one of your favourite painting pallets cracked on the floor, the vase of flowers you picked dumped out in the sink and some of his own stuff that he’d dumped or kicked in odd places while he paced.

He didn’t feel bad about breaking what little marks, through decor and personal items, you’d left in his house during the few months you’d been here, but rather disappointed in himself that he let his anger blind him.

That night was odd for him, it’s been a while since he was completely alone at night. And while his past self loved being isolated, he realised that he changed because of you. He found the quiet unsettling, and had to self-sooth and remind himself that you were just outside, that you weren’t some dream or temporary part of his life.

By the time morning came most anger had cleared, his jaw still felt tense and so with his furrowed brows and stiff posture. But as much as he hate to admit it at the risk of sounding dependant, being separated for the night and the thought of you not being around had forced him into forgiving you. He no longer kept you in the shed out of anger and inability to look at you without wanting to cause hurt, but now it was to teach you a lesson, so maybe in the future he won’t have to do it again... so he won’t loose you.

He spent the morning cleaning the mess, putting aside your cracked pan of paint to fix later when you’ve earned it back and dumping out the cigarette tray -after being reminded of how many he went through he made a mental note to lay off them for a few days to make up for it.

He let the whole day pass, now and then staring out a window at the shed tossing around the idea of letting you out. Be deciding he wasn’t ready, the last thing he wants is to open the door and re-ignite his anger. By the evening he put aside his grudge and chose not to let you bare another night in the cold. (But really he can’t bare another night alone)

...

You began to worry when the sun got low again, your stomach ached from hunger, you had a bat case of cotton mouth from thirst and stress, you’d also began biting your nails and your heart would pick up the pace randomly along with waves of dread and anxiety.

The bug bites itched and everything ached from staying in one place for over 24hours, you went as cold as last night but you knew the temperatures were going to drop once again and soon.

You hear the sound of his heavy boot crunch closer and closer. Your heart races again, your eyes wide as saucers and staying still as can so your ears can pick up any noise. You’d been begging for him to come back, hoping and crying but now he’s here you can’t help but dread it, wishing you had a minute more to compose yourself.

But beggars can’t be choosers, the chain rattles then the wooden latch is lifted and there infront of you is your kidnapper “you going to behave?” His voice is hoarse and seem tired by his tone, you can’t really see his face to confirm, he’s backlit and the light is hard on your eyes despite the sun being low. But you can imagine the bags and deep scowl.

You squint and desperately nod “I’m sorry -please” overwhelming feelings make you tear up again -your voice also sore and a stuffed nose from the crying messes up the delivery of the general apology/plea, but he seems to understand. “Do you understand what you’ve done? How you’ve put everything back to square one -no, into the negatives, you’re going to have to earn everything back because of one idiotic decision, understand?” He stands tense in the doorway looking down on you, so very belittling. He offers no sign of sympathy for your tears, bruises or fear.

But anything to get out of here “I’m sorry, I’ll be better, please I promise... please” he didn’t reply but just looked over you before scooping you up and taking you back to the house. As much as he frightened you and he was scarily quiet, you found comfort in his arms.

“Actions have consequences, when I need to go into town you’ll be locked in the shed, you can’t be trusted to control basic urges so I simply won’t give you the opportunity to fuck up” he begins as he enters the house, your gut twists at the thought of being locked in the shed again. “Please don’t, I’m sorry I don’t wa-“ he stops walking and your pleads are cut off

“I don’t care what you fucking want” his voice began to rise but he catches himself and huffs “you made your choice now live with it” he says with more control, he’s to exhausted to argue. He makes his way into the bathroom and sets you down on a counter as he runs a bath.

He beckons you to strip and get in the bath, you do just that and the hot water burns against your cold limbs, he sat down beside the tub and grabbed your face not gently but no where near as hard as he could “I would have killed that saviour of yours then make you live in that shed till your nothing but a husk of a person, is that what you want?” Your eyes widened and shook your head, when your words caught in your throat.

“I thought not” he lets go and you quickly avert your eyes, like making eye contact with a wolf, it’s certain doom. “This is merciful, you will be in the shed uncomfortable now and then, and no leaving the farm. I’m angry, disappointed and won’t be giving everything to you on a golden platter anymore but you can earn back trust, we can get back to where we were”

You sit uncomfortably, and you want to laugh at the ‘merciful’ statement. “You won’t make such a silly mistake again. You’ll listen to me from now on, won’t ya darling? You don’t want to get yourself or anyone else hurt do ya?” His hand that rested on your shoulder now unnervingly grips it but losses when you reply in favour for him.

He lays off the threats and fear mongering for the rest of the night. Once tense and quiet as he tried to control his anger issues he now is calmly quiet. He lets you eat before putting you to bed, he’s unusually close throughout the night, whereas he usually keeps his own space.

One arm lays over you and every time you shuffle he does too, waking up a bit and making sure your still there, not causing trouble. Just like how he acted when you first were kidnapped, it’s back to the start, no dignity, and a shit ton of emotional manipulation.

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere farmer #x reader

[sucker4sixx]

Sün and möon

Writers note: i know mötley crüe were off drugs at this time but no one pulls someone aside for abit of whiskey

Plot: vince and nikki have an intense little one on one

Warnings: degradation, shaming, threats, oral, smut

Something between vince and nikki changed, the band noticed it, the fans noticed it, the road crew noticed it and so did they.

Nikki and vince were never close, never over at eachothers house or the type to call eachother when they were having a rough night but something sparked when the generation swine tour started. On stage vince felt the need to follow nikki around and mess with him, pulling and tugging on his black hair while the bassist stared straight into his eyes with a ‘fuck me’ look that made the singer feel feelings he wasnt quite ready to talk about.

Nikki started to get exited for the shows, wanting to be messed with, chasing vince around the stage to bring it to that one moment where the singers hands would tug on his hair and he would lean in close, close enough to kiss but thats something that would never happen.. they thought.

One night after a particularly handsy show nikki cant seem to stay away from vince, they sit having drinks and nikki has to be next to him, watching him as he spoke about himself like he was a prince. He always hated his confident princess like behaviour but something about it was intoxicating tonight. “Hey i got some blow.. do you want some?” Nikki whispers into vinces ear, trying his hardest not to bite the lobe, vince grins wide, dragging nikki to the small bathroom. “Well? Cmon then” he says like a child as nikki sets out lines, vince tries to get in first but nikki pulls him back by his hair like he does to nikki while preforming “patience.” He says sternly, breaking into a wolfish grin before taking the first couple of lines, vince blushes red and tries to cover it up by shoving his face in the new lines nikki set out.

Nikki sets up more lines for vince on the bathroom sink, taking the opportunity to stand behind him and push his hips against vinces back side “hey knock it off! What are you doing ?!” Vince jumps but doesnt move away “nothing? What are you talking about?” Nikki grins as he pushes his clothed erection harder against vinces butt. The singer gasps and looks down, noticing his own cock starting to grow “h-hey.. its not fair, stop turning me gay!” Vince breathes shakily, gripping the sink “im not turning you gay silly.. we are all alittle bit gay, its just wether your a pussy or not” nikki grins, leaning over the singer and looking at his face in the mirror infront of them. “I-im not a pussy.” Vince insists, feeling nikkis hips smack against his butt once more, making him whine. “Whiney bitch..” nikki growls into his ear “you want my cock?” Vince whimpers again at the words, does he want cock? Is he really ready?

“Y-yes.. yes i do” nikki grins and starts grinding on his ass “good boy.. good boy..” “but.. ill only suck i dont wanna get pegged, i wont be able to walk tomorrow” “fair point, so.. you wanna suck my cock?” His grin turns wide and sexy as he imagines vince sucking on his cock like a chick.

Vince drops to his knees obediently “you know.. youve been a real brat this tour.. constantly tugging my hair and grabbing me, this was bound to happen” nikki grinned as vince looked up at him with doe eyes “you wanted my attention so bad well.. here, you got it.. sitting on a dirty bathroom floor so you can suck my cock i mean.. what a slut you are” nikki shook his head, vinces cheeks flushed red in shame, waiting for nikki to show him his cock. “Id make you beg but youve been begging the whole time.. waiting for me” nikki unzips his leather pants, his cock falling out instantly due to having on no boxers so the fans could see his bulge. His large, thick cock dangles above vinces face and the singer goes red, his eyes focusing on the thick, pink tip that already slowly drips precum onto his lips. “Well?” Nikki says impatiently.

Vince nervously wraps his lips around nikkis tip, suckling on it like its a bottle, nikki laugh and bites his bottom lip “awee.. baby boy your so cute. But im not fucking around anymore, suck me like a man” his voice suddenly goes stern, vince taking more of him instantly, sucking faster. Its clear to nikki hes done this before as the singers tongue swirls around his thick shaft. “Youve done this before havent you? Who was it..” nikki moans and vince goes redder, pulling off “tommy” he mutters before taking nikki back into his needy mouth. “Tommy?! You mean.. you sucked tommys cock before mine?” Vince nods as he takes nikki deeper, gagging slightly but continuing, wet slurping noises and deep moans filling the small bathroom.

“Go on.. tell me when..” vince pulls off again “back when w-aughhm” nikki shoves his cock down his throat, grinning “well? Cant really hear you” vince pulls off “when-hmgh!” He whines in frustration, nikki shoving his cock back into the blonde haired mans mouth. He grips his hair tight and shoves his whole dick inside vinces mouth, he starts to struggle more, hitting his thighs “ah ah, calm.. suck it slut..” vince takes a breath and suffers through it, sucking nikki fast to keep up with his pace. “Hmm.. jesus, i wont last long baby” nikki moans, bucking his hips harshly against the singers face, precum spilling down his throat.

Nikki cums with no warning, vince whining and swallowing it all eagerly before getting pushed to the floor, nikkis boot standing on his chest gently, he zips up his leather pants as he looks down at the panting man beneath his boot. “Talk about this and ill destroy you.” Nikki warns, walking out the bathroom swiftly.

“There he is! Where have you been?” Nikki says casually as vince sits beside him red faced “oh.. just.. calling my wife”

@sourwolf-sterek32 🙈

#80s #motley crue #mötley crüe #nikki sixx #tommy lee #mick mars #spotify #vince neil #nikki sixx fanfic #nikki sixx fanfiction #vince neil fanfic #vince neil x nikki sixx

[luna-rainbow]

Thoughts about this quote from AM about how Sam doesn't trust Bucky and will probably never completely forgive him for being the Winter Soldier?

Here's the link to the tweet I saw (I don't know how to include screenshots sorry 😭😭):

https://twitter.com/DianneR_99/status/1785867853238833641?t=NUhkilfwG2guZQx31-b82g&s=19

It's apparently from the official Marvel Studios' collector special TFATWS book.

Why is it so hard for people at Marvel to acknowledge that Bucky is a victim not some reformed villain?

(Also please feel free to ignore this ask, I know people have been dogpiled in the past for being slightly critical of AM and the last thing I want is for you to get hate because of me.)

It’s okay I think I’ve blocked most of them, or they’ve gotten tired of dogpiling me and blocked me. If I’ve missed anyone feel free to announce yourselves to get a block 😌

Thanks for bringing this to my attention!

I’ve said in other asks about AM’s comments on Bucky, I never blame an actor for not understanding the nuances of another character. That’s not his job. Understanding Bucky is the job of Sebastian Stan and the writers.

However, I know it’s tempting to compare him to CEvans, who had always spoken so affectionately of Bucky. Remember that Bucky’s story in the movies was complementary to Steve’s, meaning that CEvans had to understand Bucky's tragedy in order to understand Steve’s pain and guilt. To CEvans/Steve, it was important that Bucky was a wronged hero, because it rationalises why Steve would go such lengths to help him. For the entire trilogy, Bucky, and particularly Bucky's suffering, was very much impetus for Steve’s personal journey and growth. I've talked about the narrative motifs in other meta and I want to emphasise I don't mean this from a shipping lens - I mean that thematically, events that happen to Bucky have always been a major driver for Steve to make important narrative choices, and it is true even if you see their relationship as platonic.

Which…I guess brings us to the crux of the disk horse that brought about this tweet. No, Bucky is in no way important personally or narratively to Sam. Sam doesn’t grow or change because he cares about Bucky, although fortunately at least Bucky’s TFATWS arc involves him growing because he cares about Sam. We know Bucky is not personally or narratively important to Sam because of what AM has just said — Sam will always see Bucky as the guy who tore off his wings and kicked him off a helicarrier. Not a WW2 war hero, not a prisoner of war tortured into blank amnesia, not a survivor who had to rebuild most of his identity ground up, not a veteran living with PTSD without any social supports. These same views are echoed by his fans, who will scoff at everything I’ve said above and say we’re trying to “woobify a white fave” without knowing what woobify means. Sam does not care about what Bucky has been through, we know because the writing of the story has told AM that it is not important to understand who Bucky is or what Bucky has been through. All AM needs to do is to banter with this guy like he’s still annoyed at him over an incident 10 years ago when he had amnesia.

Again, I don't blame AM for this, because he can only work with what the writers have told him about the intended relationship between Sam and Bucky. And to be fair, he plays it like it is. At no point does it feel like Sam values or trusts Bucky beyond "annoying guy I put up with for work". I know some fans like to point to the Louisiana scene as proof that Sam trusts Bucky and has him as part of the family -- which would be great fanon if 1) AM didn't just contradict that and b) Sam spends most of the deleted scenes calling Bucky "the Winter Soldier" like the guy had any say in the moniker. And no, Bucky confessing his deeds to Yori is not Bucky reclaiming his identity as the Winter Soldier.

This is not an indictment on the ship, by the way, because you can wrangle canon to make it work, and shipping has been built on far less. I've got nearly 50k words on AO3 proving I've tried. But TFATWS canon is full of things happening off camera and the truth is...we never saw mutual trust and affection on camera between the two men. We saw two guys perpetually annoyed at and annoying to each other, and AM just gave the reason why.

#tfatws critical #fandom wank #asks

[blankwashed]

18+ ADULT CONTENT AHEAD YOU ARE WARNED

Toji and you went out shopping, not for something extraordinary but something basic. Toji, unfortunately, was the reason why the family is broke again. He had squandered all his money on the recent horse race, despite your warnings about his gambling addiction.

Even though you were working, your monthly salary was barely enough to sustain both of you and his son, Megumi, from his previous marriage.

"Daddy! I-I want this! Please buy it for me, pleaaase!" Megumi pleaded, envious of his friends who were getting the newest and latest gadgets. "I get laughed at whenever I take out my Samsung Galaxy S4..." he confessed, tears welling up in his eyes. You hated to see your stepson ridiculed by his friends, but with Toji's reckless gambling habits, you often found yourself in a tough spot.

"BABY! We hit the jackpot today! I won 320,000 yen! I'm aiming to get 500,000 yen on the next race, trust me!" Toji exclaimed excitedly, only to waste all the money on another failed bet.

"Are you sure this will work?" you raised an eyebrow at Toji. He claimed that OnlyFans or selling videos of the both of you having sex would make you guys rich in an instant.

Toji just finished setting up the webcam on the laptop that both of you have bought with the money you were saving for rainy days.

"I'm hot, you're hot. Why wouldn't it work?" he has no other options other than to sell his body online- and yours as well. You bit your lip, regretting about agreeing with his idea. It all sounded easy to you at first, just have sex with a camera pointed at the both of you but now that you think about it. What if Megumi or any of his friends find it? Wouldn't that ruin his life? Who would take the both of you guys seriously anymore?

Toji said that you guys would not need to pay for certain things as well, saying that brands would be willing to sponsor the both of you for wearing or using their clothing or equipment in the videos. At that time, Megumi was on a school trip which leaves the both of you alone at home.

You were awkward, of course and Toji knew that. He snaked his muscular arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. It’s been a long time since the both of you had time for yourselves, dealing with Megumi and well, money problems.

As you were unaware, Toji already was recording on the camera but he still acted as if he wasn’t. Without your knowledge, he’s getting your raw reactions to his touches.

“Hmm, mama…” he murmured into your ear sensually with his hand slithering through your shirt’s buttons, plucking each of them off. If you weren’t wet before, you were wet in an instant then. He’s your weakness and knows how to get you crawling onto him.

You were very verbal, moaning and sliding off your skirt and panties making things easier for Toji. His lips were already on your left nipple, sucking and lapping like an animal. The noises that he made while abusing your nipples could already bring you to an overdrive, not to mention the sounds coming out from your own throat.

“Toj-Daddy…have you pressed record yet?” you asked him breathlessly. Honestly at this point you didn’t really care because you married a sex Adonis. Toji shook his head, lying to you because he knows that you would be self-conscious if the camera was on.

“Princess, let’s just have some off-camera fun for now hmm? So that when we shoot everything will just come natural?”

He was so believable.

The way your fingers curled around his biceps, gripping them firmly as if they were the only anchor in a stormy sea. His hands explored her body freely, as if it was their honeymoon night when they first saw each other’s bodies.

Who am I kidding? Toji wouldn’t wait for marriage.

It was an intense make out session, with moans of “never gonna get bored of this” and “just fuck me already”. Toji and you were breathless with your hearts pounding with desire. Communicating with bodily actions would be ideal for someone like Toji.

His big hands groped big fleshy parts of you, moulding them in his hands making you moan in pleasure. You didn’t like it when it was soft after experiencing how pleasurable it was to be manhandled.

“Lil’ mama, take me in. Show me how much you love my cock,” he slaps his big fat cock against your cheeks, making you lose your balance despite already kneeling. You weren’t able to say anything. Opening your mouth slowly easing him in, he thought of something else he wanted to do to you.

As his hands freely roamed across your body, pinching and slapping them earning moans from you. Toji eagerly slid his fingers down your abdomen and started to trace small circles around your wet dripping hole. He searched for your sensitive weak spot. After finding it, he teased you, circling and flicking with his thick fingers. Your wetness was already making everything easier for him.

Toji was quick. Before long, you realised you were in a 69 position with him. You could feel him smirking on your pussy, teasing and licking with his fat tongue. His spare hands would trail up your leg, opening your core up for him. It wasn’t easy for you to keep quiet at this point while he was circling your bud with his skilful tongue before finally plunging it deep inside.

“AH! DADDY!” you screamed, accidentally letting his cock out of your mouth. He growled, not pleased by not being in your mouth. With a jerk his cock opened your mouth again.

“My cock will be buried here until I say I so. You want to be punished, bitch?” He grabbed a handful of hair from your head, tugging it, making you squirm.

With your tongue swirling around the head in a tantalising manner while massaging his balls Toji let out a long, deep moan.

“Slowly, bitch…that’s it baby,” he murmured hoarsely. “Don’t fuck with me, you bitch. I’ll punish you for that later,” he threatened you, grasping the back if your head tightly.

“Take all of me, you fucking slut. You like being treated like this, don’t you?” he bucked his hips more towards you, hands wrapped around your throat.

Groaning loudly, Toji pushed once again, driving himself deeper into your poor throat as he reached his climax. With each movement of your head, he lost control of himself. It was all raw and primal. His sheer strength overpowering your body into a puddle.

With his hands tied up in your hair, he releases himself. Hot white streaks of excessive cum painted your face. A glare from Toji made you lick up every excessive drop.

“Daddy…how are we going to shoot now? I think I drank up all your cum…” you innocently said while wiping your face clean, not noticing Toji smirking while checking out the footage that he recorded.

The both of you would be swimming in money soon.

#toji smut #toji fushiguro #daddy toji #toji zenin #jjk smut #fics

[physalian]

Evil MacGuffins (Or an excuse to gush about Lord of the Rings)

It’s kind of crazy how so much of Tolkien’s worldbuilding has defined fantasy. The default for Elves and Dwarves, fantasy kingdoms, character archetypes, themes, and motifs come from Tolkien’s works.

But you know what’s rarely ever redone in modern fantasy? The One Ring. Probably because works piggybacking off the success of their predecessors rarely understand the themes of what made the original so legendary *cough* teen dystopia *cough*.

So—the One Ring.

Addressing the infamous Eagles “plot hole” once again for any stragglers who still think *gotcha* for this masterpiece: 1) The Eagles were busy. 2) The Eagles are not subtle at all and this mission required absolute stealth, because the one place the One Ring can be destroyed is in Sauron’s house, thus the closer they get to destroying it, the closer Sauron gets to just reaching out and taking it. 3) There were 9 Nazgul and Fellbeasts in the way. 4) The Eagles are basically gods, second only to the actual gods of the world. This makes them deeply inadvisable to go anywhere near the One Ring.

Why? Yes the Ring gives you some random powers like invisibility and slower aging but its purpose is temptation and political power. As you can see in the movie’s prologue, all the Rings of Power were subservient to Sauron’s master ring, the One Ring, to bend to his will… to varying degrees of success.

The power of the One Ring is proportional to the power of its wielder, giving you social and political influence over all your followers. So if you’re, say, a king of men, and you become Sauron’s minion, you’re going to lead your kingdom to ruin doing his bidding whether you realize you’re doing it or not. If you have no political or social power, like, say a hobbit? The Ring doesn’t have much use for you and you, seeing no benefit to world domination, are more resistant to its beguiling.

All this to say: The story makes it very clear that Frodo has to be the ring-bearer because he’s impervious to the Ring’s wiles. Anyone more competent, like Aragorn or Legolas, or Gandalf, are more susceptible to its power. The more power you have, the more destruction you will wreak under the Ring’s influence, and everyone bends to the Ring’s will eventually, no matter how good your intentions.

Eagles are great. Evil Eagles would be very, very bad.

Gandalf is great. Evil Gandalf looks like Saruman, and we all saw how that went.

That is a built-in plot armor I never see in modern fiction—Why?

—

One of the many messages of LOTR is not “good always triumphs” but instead “evil always loses”. The difference being here that it’s not necessarily the Power of Friendship that defeats evil, it’s evil’s selfish and self-sabotaging nature that eats itself to its own demise.

Example: Neither Frodo nor Sam strike the killing blow on Gollum. Gollum falls fighting Frodo for the Ring and can't let go of it to save himself. The Power of Friendship saves Frodo, but it doesn't destroy the Ring.

The One Ring is a MacGuffin like no other in that it’s not just a cool inanimate and useless object that only holds meaning to the characters that want it—the Ring is its own character enticing all these people to lust after it and fall on their own swords doing so.

Obviously, if you find the enemy’s magic weapon in your possession, you’re going to want to use it against them, which is exactly Boromir’s argument. Any other story and you’d have a difficult time justifying why your characters wouldn’t seize this golden opportunity. In this story, by the weapon’s very nature, trying to use it is exactly what it, and its creator, wants.

The point of the Ring, and at least my interpretation of its meaning, is this: When you’re going up against the evil and corrupt, you cannot let yourself become corrupted trying to defeat it, or else the cycle will never be broken. Or, “Hate can­not dri­ve out hate; only love can do that.”

I almost wish we had seen it seriously tempt the more powerful characters—like seeing Aragorn forced to use it in an emergency the way Frodo does several times. See what it does to him and how hard it is to resist this beguiling weapon’s siren song.

“Evil weapon is super conveniently powerful and would solve all our problems but alas, it has some nasty side effects” has been done before, frequently in anime. Usually, though, that weapon isn’t the centerpiece of the story. It’s the edgy side-character’s Hail Mary when things have gone Very Wrong.

—

Most LOTR copycats focus on the cool species and the magical lands and the magic systems and a generically evil villain who wants world domination. Yes, Sauron is, by modern standards, pretty one-note. He wants to rule the world. Why? Because he’s Evil and Prideful. There’s nothing wrong with a pure-evil villain, they can be highly entertaining without angst dragging them down.

However, Pure Evil villains work best when either they’re incredibly charismatic, like Disney Renaissance villains, or they’re just the face of the metaphor. Ozai from ATLA does not need character development, Netflix. He may be the face of the Fire Nation, but it’s his regime and this one element’s unbalanced crusade for world domination that’s the “villain”.

Sauron isn’t even a giant, corporeal eye in the book. He’s just this disembodied entity represented by the eye in visions. His influence and how it motivates legions of orcs, humans, and anyone else tempted by power, is the “villain”.

The One Ring serves as his thematic proxy. It’s not just a magic ring, it’s a cosmic mousetrap waiting to spring on anyone proud enough to think they can overcome it.

And I just never see that in modern fantasy.

—

TLDR; There is no MacGuffin quite like the One Ring and no, the Eagles aren’t a lazy or forgotten deus ex machina. When you’re coming up with your heroes and villains in fantasy and sci-fi, consider something like the Ring as this double-edged sword that has everyone gunning for it either unknowing that it’s exactly what the villain wants, or too proud to think they can fall victim to it.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #fantasy #sci fi #macguffins #lord of the rings #lotr

[mickeym4ndy]

A lil snippet of this fanfic where Yevgeny meets Ian for the first time as a teenager, after his friend is injured and Ian is the paramedic on duty. (Mickey moved states to be close to Yev & Svet right after getting out of prison and hasn’t seen Ian in 16 years).

————————

The red head’s eyes were darting around the hospital reception, like he was looking for something he wasn’t sure he wanted to find. Yevgeny eyed him suspiciously.

“What you still doing here, anyway? Didn’t think you guys stuck around after bringing people to the hospital.”

The paramedic’s - Ian, Yevgeny reminded himself - eyes widened. “Uh, yeah, I uh… I had some paperwork to fill out from another case,” he answered. Yevgeny nodded and turned away, planning to go see if he could get a snack from the vending machine. Before he could leave, though, Ian spoke again.

“Your friend okay?”

Yevgeny nodded. “Yeah. You were right. Broken ankle. He’ll be out for the rest of the school year but he should be able to play next year when the season starts up again.”

“Good. That’s good.”

At the thought of the next soccer season, Yevgeny’s stomach dropped. The school could easily kick them off the team for all this.

Ian’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Is uh… is your dad on his way? Is he coming to pick you up?” Something about the guy seemed nervous, but Yevgeny didn’t dwell on that for too long as thoughts of having to tell his parents he was kicked off the team filled his head. Yev shuddered at the thought. God, his parents were going to be so pissed.

“Shit. Yeah, he’s on his way. Should be here any minute.” Yevgeny’s eyes anxiously flickered towards the hospital doors, waiting for his dad’s surely explosive arrival.

His dad was a pretty fair parent, his mom being the stricter one. His dad scared other people, Yev knew that. But he didn’t scare Yevgeny. Underneath the tough exterior and tattoos, he was a nice dude who cared about his family more than anything.

But, Yevgeny knew he’d fucked up badly tonight. It would probably go on his permanent record, and if there was one thing his mom always enforced, it was the importance of not fucking up his future. Soccer was his chance at a college scholarship.

Plus, he had promised his dad he wouldn’t go along with any of Jackson’s stupid plans, but he did. And his dad fucking hated lying. Yevgeny never really lied to his dad. Honestly. He told his dad when he had his first kiss, his first beer. Even though all of his friends lied to their parents and said they were chilling at a friend’s house when they were going to parties, Yevgeny always actually told his dad the truth. Mickey had always told Yevgeny that he could tell him anything, call him at anytime if something happened, and he’d be there for him.

But Yevgeny hadn’t told him they were planning to sneak out of the hotel this time. So yeah, between lying and fighting with the other team to the point his friend landed in hospital, Yevgeny knew he was going to be in some deep shit once his dad arrived.

“You okay?” Yevgeny looked back at Ian. His dread must be pretty apparent on his face. His mom always said he was like his dad in that way, no fucking poker face. That and they pretty much had the same face.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m just, ah, realizing I’m probably gonna be grounded for the whole summer.”

Ian chuckled, but there was something dark behind his eyes. “Well, could be worse.”

And yeah, Yev knew that was true. His mom and dad never went into too much detail about their childhoods, but Yev gathered enough information about their pasts to know that the both of his parents got punishments a lot worse than a few months with no social life. Still, it was the summer before senior year, and he was bummed he was going to miss out on it because he was stupid enough to listen to fucking Jackson.

“You hungry? Have you eaten?” Ian pulled Yevgeny out of his thoughts.

“Was just gonna get something from the vending machine,” he answered.

Ian shook his head. “Wait here. The staff cafeteria is 24 hours. They know me there. I’ll go grab you something to keep you going until -“ Ian faltered. “Until, uh, your dad gets here.”

Yevgeny was quick to refuse. “No, no, that’s fine man, you don’t need to do that.” But Ian wasn’t having it.

“No, it’s fine. It’s late and you should eat.” He paused before he said, “besides, you’re 17. You shouldn’t be here alone. I’ll uh…” He turned and looked at Yevgeny, and Yev realized it was the first time since the conversation started that the guy was actually looking him in the eye. Ian’s face held the same haunted look he was wearing in the ambulance. “I’ll come back and wait with you until your dad gets here.”

Yevgeny went to protest because he’s not a fucking kid, damnit. But the red head was already half way down the hallway.

Yevgeny watched as the guy walked away. He didn’t really understand why the dude was doing all this for him, why he seemed so concerned about him. Surely he saw this sort of stuff all the time in his line of work. He especially didn’t understand why Ian looked at him like he’d seen a fucking ghost.

Yevgeny didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, though, because pretty soon he heard the familiar voice of his father come through the doors of the hospital.

“YEVGENY MILKOVICH!”

#gallavich #gallavich fanfic #mickey milkovich #shameless fanfic #shameless #ian gallagher #svetlana yevgenivna #yevgeny milkovich #in this world Mickey & Svetlana petitioned the parole board to let him parole where they are #after Mickey was granted parole #and he was granted it because the board agreed that being close to his son and away from his dad etc. would be better for him #and would keep him out of trouble and he’d be less likely to reoffend #so he literally left prison and went straight to them #didn’t go into Chicago once #and he stayed in prison and didn’t try to escape to Mexico obvs #idk how much further I’ll go with this but just wanted to write this scene

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝖁𝖎𝖌𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝕿𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖍

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: I will blame Egyptian Mythology for their names that are not shown.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

TW // Slightly SMUT/NSFW, Animal Death.

Dreaming peacefully was hard to come across. Usually, my dreams were filled with nothing, but empty darkness while other nights they were filled with… erotic nightmares? Dreams? Visions?

Never in my life have I had an erotic dream about an Astartes. Specifically, the Thousand Sons. I would understand myself if it were a World Eater, Black Legion or the Salamanders. They were beefy slabs of packed meat, each one having a different way of handling things, but a Thousand Son? It's kind of out of pocket for me... I honestly don't think I have met a Thousand Son myself until these dreams started appearing.

They have started off slow; like they were testing it out a first. Seeing what they can and can't do. Gently prodding at me in my dream space. Cooing all whispery-like at me when I don't really react to them much. Still thinking it was a dream myself to have 4 big Thousand Sons in my room at the edge of my bed. The golden horns or... shields? of their helmets nearly taking out my ceiling if they didn't lean down a bit to fit in my room.

I woke up instantly (or when the dream woke me up) panicking the first night I dreamed of the tall, armored men. Quickly looking all around me on my bed for the Thousand Sons, making sure there actually wasn’t any more men surrounding me in my own room, on my own bed. I couldn’t even fall back asleep after that. Too uncomfortable at the phantom-like feeling they left me with; like they were still in the room with me. Whispering some weird languages in my ear.

The second time they came back into my dream scape. I was on edge, but let them prod at me a little bit. Only slapping their gauntlets away when they get too close to my torso or nether regions. A questioning rumble coming out of them, but never moving to touch or trace the same spot again. Still sticking to their... questionable curiosity's.

Third time, both me and the Thousand Sons got a little more comfortable with one another. We simply basked in each other’s presence like we were friends or something with an occasional nuzzle of a cold helmet to make sure I was still with them. Not fading out of existence.

Though, it had me thinking about these… dreams of mine. Were they real? Fake? Was a Thousand Son playing a trick on me themselves? That one kind of hit me hard in the chest like a brick.

Were they using me for their own satisfaction? To their own gain?

That thought made me go sour for a long bit of time. Not really sleeping fully at points of the night, just dozing off until my alarm wakes me up for the start of the morning. Repeating the process of getting ready for work.

Within that sour time, I did some research up online what exactly the Thousand Sons do, what they like, or what they could potentially do. Some hatful articles saying they could mess with your mind and feed your thoughts with what you wanted to hear, or turn you into some sort of... slave? To them? I didn't entirely believe that one. These Thousand Sons that I dream of don't seem to act so... ill, but it doesn't mean another one could do what doesn't seem possible.

Maybe I need a different article? Something that's not so filled with hate for all types of Astartes?

Oh, but was it hard to even find a remotely friendly website to find information on the royal blue Space Marines. Everyone likes to complain, complain and complain about them and other Legions it was almost surprising. There was so much on them for just being them, it changed my perspective on things there for a moment until I come across a story with a lady who seemed reasonable enough to hate them. Saying how this group of feral marines killed her dog and let its bloody remains decorate the front of her home. Typed pretty graphically too.

So, I suppose if you have a good enough reason then it is rightful to be hateful at them. Otherwise, it was just a bunch of regular complaints like how one "forcefully" stepped on their mailbox or how one would slightly move her car a little to the left, leaving a dent in it. It was just a mess full of headaches to read; like don't you people have anything better to do? Water your dry and dead grass? Walk around the block? Feed your animals the proper amount? Clean your houses?

Regardless of seeing all the hate, there was nothing on dreaming about some Thousand Sons. I couldn't even find anything about them that helps me out in my situation, just found all the haters on a single page instead.

Without much of anything on them, I had manage to completely fall asleep that night. Not really expecting to be immediately pulled up against the cold, armored chest of one of the Thousand Sons, purring down at me all phantom-like. Their helmet nuzzling the side of my face and the top of my head. All cooing and chuffing at me like some needy cat's. It would have been sweet if I wasn't still soured by my own thoughts and didn't think it was all just a dream. That it wasn't real. Someone is playing a trick on me. Making me think this was acceptable to have this type if affection from an Astartes.

I had woken up feeling dreadful after that night with an ache in my chest. Even if I did get a semblance of cuddles in that dream, it didn't help with the reality of them truly not being there. It... frustrated me; I couldn't get the proper sleep with them invading my dreams because they made me feel so... lonely. I haven't even realized that I was lonely myself.

I had little to no friends to hang out with besides some really nice elderly ladies at the bookstore that sip on their teas and hangout with one another, pinching at me through my clothes saying I need to eat a little more, or saying I shouldn't be single for how I look. Which is possibly another reason on why I was so lonely, I wasn't interested in having a romantic relationship with anyone for a long time. Wasn't even looking, I just was running with life. Letting the days pass me with a few good interactions with people and their Astartes, and some bad ones of just people having a bad day themselves and ruining it for others.

Oh, but did my heart crave for the attention, the intimacy.

Does that mean I would listen to it? No, I had better things to do like avoid sleeping and taking on a heavy project from work because I was still being petty on myself. How could I not?

Nearly everyday I woke up with a longing ache in my chest that I haven't had before I started to dream of the Space Marines. I was a completely mentally healthy person before they decided to spawned in my dreams. Now all I could think of is how pitifully lonely I was. How sad I must have looked to others. Especially when I was trying to avoid sleeping.

Some worried for me when they look at me, asking about my health as I waved them off with my hand. Saying I just needed to switch my bed or something. Maybe get me something to relax my nerves which the elderly ladies suggested to me "Chamomile Tea" or some "Lavender Tea." Which that second option did not sound pleasing to me. Didn't want to smell like old ladies all day. When I asked about some energizing tea the main lady of the group looked at me with a gray, risen brow saying "Now, I don't want the best to overwork herself now, but if you must know, I suggest Ginger Tea. Reduces anxiety and inflammation." All the ladies mumbled out an agreement on that one before two other ladies suggested "Peppermint Tea" and "Black Tea."

Yeah, I definitely didn’t go to the store and buy all that were suggested, gaining a “you look more like a coffee type person” comment from the young female cashier. Whatever that meant in the terms of things. I just thanked her, paid for my things and went on my way back home. Ready to chug down some ginger and peppermint tea to keep me awake and work on the hefty project. Even if they didn’t taste or smell satisfactory.

This little sleepless run only lasted a week before I tapped out. Found myself fading to black into my own room when originally I was sitting down at my desk with my head laying down onto the light wood surface of the desk. My hand wrapped around my mug that had a fresh new cup of tea in it.

Upon entering my dream space, low almost growling purrs greeted my ears. Cold armor pressing up between my legs with an equally cold gauntlet pinning me in place by the neck on the fabrics of my bed. Some phantom language being whispered into my ear before the Astartes pinning me down leaned back, showing me all 4 of the them looking down at me before the main session with them began.

Oh, I found myself absolutely aching when I twitched awake. A rough inhale being dragged into in my lungs, almost choking myself on thin air and tipping my cold mug all over my papers if it weren’t for this phantom sensation to stop it. A wraith-like chuckle sending a tingle down my back.

Leaning back in my chair. I practically melt in it as I groan out. Thinking about having a really nice hot bath until it hit me. My sore thighs pressing together confirming the wetness between my legs. Those group of Thousand Sons were real! They had to be! I wouldn’t be able to feel the after effects of intercourse if they weren’t!

Quickly standing up from my chair. I fall over immediately when my legs collapse on me, a quiet “shit!” coming out of my mouth as I lay there defeated on the carpet. My head spinning for a moment before I started to wonder on how in the hell I would be able to set myself up a very needed bath feeling like some very satisfied jello.

I huff into the carpet and groan. The thought of them being real coming back at me quickly. My brows coming together in thought.

If they were real, does that mean they could be tracking me down like this? Tracking me down by my dreams? Could they just be using me like that? I groan again in the carpet. There was questions, but no answers. Answers that I needed to see if I was just simply going crazy or not. That, and it also includes the bath situation. I needed one of those.

…If only I knew how close they actually were. Their fingers able to play with the String of Bonds like a harp.

#space marine husbandry sentience #warhammer 40k #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #space marine #space marine x reader #adeptus astartes #adeptus astartes x reader #thousand sons #go to sleep on time as well don’t know who be meeting you on the other side :) #just calling the seeable bond the String of Bonds #unless some lore drops

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 5th May ✨

There’s something so so satisfying about HFTH being on ep 150, while TSV is on 40 and Travelling Light (TL, if you will) is on 20 . . . the brain is going brrrr.

Here’s what I listened to this week! Spoilers ahead!

👻 @tellnotalespod (S2E9) oh what a beautiful episode 😭I’d like to bestow the highest accolade on Flo’s VA: hearing her voice and immediately casting her in an unwritten audio drama that will likely never be made. I have a theory about why Frank can’t just clear out the warehouse . . . but I really don’t want it to be true. 

🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (150) You can also find me in Camp ‘Hate That Noise’!! Awful. I love this nautical storyline so much. It’s one thing to be told that Buck is now a renowned detective and another to see him in action. Sad that someone had to die but . . . I can’t wait to see the case unfold!! I’ve been trying to wrap my head around Shelby leaving the entire week. Yes, it makes perfect sense from a survival point of view but I don’t think I could have done it. 

🦀 @thesiltverses (40) what a good ep!! I’ve been so compromised by Carpenter this season. She sounds so very exhausted, even when she’s not being stalked by her god of death. I’m very concerned about ‘Verity’ who left the minute they arrived… did she recognise them?? Chuck Harm and Val are one of the most unexpected combinations of the year but I’m here for it. It is VERY interesting that Val is now suffering post-miracle. Is this a ‘gods need to feed’ situation or something else entirely. Working with God-killers worked so well for the government last time, so it’ll no doubt be over for her in no time . . .

🧳 Travelling Light @monstrousproductions (20) I can’t tell you how delightful it is that this show comes out on Friday and is exactly the length of my average cycle home!! It’s such a soothing way to start the weekend! There were so many banging lines in this ep, I love a spooky friend!

🏛 @the-mistholme-museum (CONCLUSIVE) You heard it on Mistholme first! People from Yorkshire (me) have the best voices. Like honey, chocolate and coffee all at once - so people say. I can’t believe this is the penultimate episode 😭

🖥️ The Magnus Protocol (14) snake friends! How delightful!! I feel a little guilty at how entertaining Alice’s jealousy is. I feel so bad for her, but the office drama is too hard to resist. 

🍎 @notquitedeadpod (XXXVII) my heart!! 💔 I had to laugh at Neige’s disdain for Alfie’s more intimate recordings right before expounding on his own experiences . . . including with their shared boyfriend! It’s a little petty. I love it. And, god, can we talk about this last line? ‘And when you call, I will come back to you because you have begun to feel like home.’ HELLO? Christ.

🌞 Small Victories by @wgc-productions (2.1) How many cosmic interventions will it take for Marisol not to make cosmically bad choices? I don’t know! I’m keeping a close eye on Summer . . . 

🧋 @hinaypod (3-4) Honestly, kind of kudos to Laura because if I went through what she did I would simply never touch an antique again… I really love Donner and Murphy’s rapport and how they recognise and respect Mari’s skills! 

Hope everyone has a lovely week! 🥰

I'd also like to highlight that the creators of one of my fave shows, Moonbase Theta, Out (@monkeymanproductions) , are crowdfunding for their next one! Throw some 💸 at these lovely creatives!!

#audio drama sunday #tell no tales #hfth spoilers #travelling light #tsv spoilers #the mistholme museum of mystery morbidity and mortality #tmagp spoilers #not quite dead #small victories #hi nay #waiting for october

[mamawasatesttube]

you guys i have so many thoughts about tdr. i have so much to say. like i don't want to be super mean but dude that comic fucking sucks and i can't lie i think it made me kind of homophobic actually

#my stance up to now has been that i don't really care about tim/ber but now that i have read this. dude... #it sucks that they gave a canon queer tim narrative to someone who uses homophobia as shock value and virtue signaling points #and who actively tears down characters who don't like her special little uwu flawless oc (kate im so fucking sorry) #there's no substance to this relationship i don't see why they even like each other #bc she keeps just stating oh they're perfect they make each other so happy but she doesn't like. show that at all #and i HATE the shock value homophobia like i cannot overstate how much i hate it #oh these random cops are homophobic (that's how you know they're BAD!) #oh bernard's parents are homophobic (that's how you know THEY'RE bad too!) #it's so hamfisted and it reads like such. cheap storytelling #especially bc tim as narrator doesn't even get to have ANY thoughts on his own queerness or seeing this homophobia in the world around him #and then she can't go more than two pages without being like BTW BERNARD IS THE BEST EVER AND TIM CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM #while against this ugly backdrop of shock value homophobia #there's no substance to this relationship. why do they even like each other. it just falls apart if you examine it at all #because she just is fundamentally incapable of writing either of them as people with character flaws #for fucks sake she can't even be consistent with tim's BASIC character tenets. ''i always dreamed of being batman'' false lmao #but then to follow it up with ''i never wanted to be batman i always wanted to be my dad'' #and then on TOP OF THAT to make the Only mention of Jack drake and his impact on tim's life ABOUT BERNARD AGAIN. #yeah sorry im a hater now. this was shit tier #rimi talks