#and if that happens you can just ask - i am still a person behind the persona i attempt to uphold on this blog
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Reverse Isekai Genshin Shenanigans #2
Characters: Venti, Kaeya, Diluc, Xingqiu, Zhongli
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"Is everything to your liking, Venti?" you asked.
"Oh none of that, [Y/N]," Venti responded with a small smile. "No need to be so formal around me."
The two of you were currently in the living room of your apartment. Since Venti was here, you had planned on showing him some of the stuff around your place. As for how Venti got here in the first place...
It's kind of a long story.
But to make that story short, Venti told you that Albedo and the Traveler had been working on a device that can establish a linked portal between Teyvat and Earth. From what you understand, it's kind of how you are able to access Teyvat on your computer, but this time it's the other way around.
It's honestly surprising how quickly it took them to reach you.
"However," Venti began, raising a finger. "Before you show me any more stuff, do you by chance happen to have any wine around? I am quite curious to see how your world's wine holds up to Mondstadt's."
You shook your head. "Nope. Sorry, I don't drink."
"You don't?!" Venti gasped. "Well that's no fun! Life is so much better when indulging in fabulous wine."
"My liver would say otherwise." you quipped.
Venti, ignoring you, continued. "It's unfortunate, really. And I was just beginning to get my hopes up high," he sighed. "But alas, I guess a bard's stomach will have to go empty for now."
You could tell that he was joking, but you still felt like helping him out. He was your guest, after all.
Luckily, your apartment was in the middle of a shopping complex.
"How about this. There's a wine store nearby. I can walk down and grab you something. Would that be alright?"
Venti's eyes are shining so bright you nearly covered your eyes to stop from going blind.
"Ohoho, really now?" he smirks, before giving a Knight of Favonius salute. "Lead the way then, [Y/N]. I shall be right behind you."
You sighed. "No, Venti. I can't risk you being seen by other people. Just tell me what you want and I'll go get it."
"Not a chance!" he happily exclaimed, skipping towards the door. "A decision of great importance should be trusted with an expert connoisseur such as myself."
He opened the door and gestured you towards the empty hallway. "After you, dear [Y/N]."
...
The God of Freedom has restrictions when it comes to purchasing wine apparently.
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"I must say, [Y/N]. Your place certainly is interesting. It's both familiar and exotic."
You raised a skeptical brow at the calvary captain. "Should I be taking that as a compliment or...?"
In response, Kaeya chuckled. "I simply mean that it's unique. Let's leave it at that."
You slowly nodded. Kaeya was a hard person to read, but you think he meant it as a complement.
...You think.
"However, before we continue, do you have any drinks on hand. I'm getting a bit thirsty."
You nodded politely. "Of course, I'll go get you something right away!"
You quickly walked to the kitchen and opened your fridge. "What would you like? I've got water, milk, juice, soda..."
Kaeya thought for a second. "Do you have any wine?"
...
Goddammit.
You loudly sighed. "First of all, I don't drink. Second of all, Venti made me spend nearly $100 at the wine store, and I didn't even get to keep any of it!"
Kaeya pondered in thought some more. "A wine store...?"
Oh no.
"No..." you warned. "Don't you even think about getting me to spend more money."
Kaeya merely brough the back of his hand to his chin. "But I am a guest, are I not? It is common courtesy for the guest to be treated respectively after all."
...
You hate it when they're right.
You sighed again. "Fine..."
Kaeya softly smiled. "Excellent. I can't wait to see what they have to offer."
Thankfully, Kaeya was nice enough to settle for only one wine bottle.
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"I'm sorry if this isn't to your liking, Master Diluc."
"Please, [Y/N]. Just Diluc is fine. No need for formalities when we're not in Teyvat."
He began to look around at his surroundings.
"Though I am curious as to why you decided to bring me to a restaurant of all places."
"Because you didn't want to go to the wine store." you replied, deadpan. "Which honestly surprises me considering you own the biggest winery in Mondstadt."
Diluc did not look impressed. "I've seen enough wine in my life already, it does not make any difference if I go see anymore."
You shrugged your shoulders. "Suit yourself."
You looked back down at the menu in your hands, reading its contents for something good to order.
"...Is there another reason why you brought me here?"
You looked up at him. "...I mean yeah, there is, but it's nothing important."
Diluc crossed his arms. "Oh? What is it?"
You pointed to the top of his menu. "It's the name of the restaurant."
He looked down towards the menu and read the name. "Firebirds? What of it?"
You tilted your head. "...You don't get it?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Get what?"
"Ah, forget it," you waved a hand. "I just thought it was something funny."
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"Where are we heading, my liege?"
"Somewhere I think you'll really like."
The two of you walked through the front doors and stopped just a few steps afterward. To the naked eye, books upon books laid upon rows and rows of shelves.
As expected of a library.
You looked at Xingqiu and couldn't help but chuckle at the wide-eyed expression he was giving. His mouth also hung open comically.
"Easy now, Xingqiu, don't go drooling all over the floor now." You turned and pointed towards the front desk. "I figure that this place might be too big for you to handle so I trust that any questions you have you'll ask the librari- aaannnnnnnnnd he's gone."
...
You looked away for five seconds and you've already lost the book lover.
Is this how parents feel whenever they lose sight of their kids?
You couldn't help but chuckle as you shook your head. You suppose this was to be expected after all. When Xingqiu sets his sights on a book of choice, there's not much that will drag him away from it.
Knowing that he had no reason to leave the library, you began walking around the building searching for him.
You did find him after a few minutes. He had grabbed a seat on top of a beanbag and was nose deep in a book in his hands. Stacked next to him were a ton of other books that he presumably collected.
However, as you walked closer to him, you could see a troubled expression on his face.
"Is something wrong?" you questioned.
Xingqiu lowered the book from his face. "Sorry, my liege, I seem to be unable to read this. I can't understand any of the words."
...
Ah crap, you forgot about that.
"Do you think you could read this to me?" he asked, handing the book to you.
You nodded. "Sure, I can do that."
Book in hand, you plopped down on another beanbag next to him and started to read. You had no other plans for the day, so you were fine with hanging around the library for a little bit.
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You didn't feel like going out today. It didn't matter who asked, you were exhausted.
"Hmmm..."
Even if that someone was an over 6,000-year old retired Archon.
To be quite frank, you were terrified to be in Zhongli's presence. Sure, this isn't the first Archon you've met in person, but Venti does a superb job at hiding his status. Nobody can take a look at him and think that he's an Archon.
Zhongli on the other hand, has this imposing aura around him. How does Hu Tao not feel threatened by this man?
"So this is where you're able to guide us from?"
You nodded. "Yes sir."
After showing Zhongli around your apartment, he expressed an interest in seeing the device you use to guide them. Not thinking ahead, and because you were terrified of telling an Archon 'no', you agreed.
...Okay, you did try to tell Venti 'no', but that's different!
Now, you were frantically trying to piece together a convincing story about how your guidance is not part of a video game and everything that they've come to known was written, modeled, and designed by a company. Existential crisis are not fun to deal with.
However, Zhongli isn't stupid. There's a high percent chance he'll see through your lies.
...Basically, you're fucked.
You focused back on the computer. The main menu was playing. You sneaked a peak at Zhongli. He appeared to be lost in thought.
"Need me to explain anything?" you asked, hesitantly.
Zhongli nodded. "Please."
You sighed. Here goes nothing.
"So to start things off, there's this company called Hoyoverse. This company is responsible for maintaining a stable connection between here and Teyvat. That's why you saw their name appear on the screen earlier. This down here is the region that the connection is held. If I click on that, I'm able to change to another region. However, I'm gonna keep it on this one since I get the best connection from there."
"Then below that is my User ID. Going back to Hoyoverse for a moment, it's not just one connection they're responsible for. They're able to hold thousands of connections at once."
You saw Zhongli open his mouth so you stopped talking for a moment. "But I've never known anyone other than you guiding us. How can it be that there are multiple connections to the same place?"
You shook your head. "No, it's not multiple connections to one Teyvat. It's multiple connections to different Teyvats. Think of it as parallel universes if you will. Through this connection, I am able to guide people such as you. However, through another connection, someone else is able to guide another Zhongli. Does that make sense?"
You nearly breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded his head. "I see. Please, continue."
"Right. Next, you have these two buttons over here. If I click on the top one, you'll see ways to interact with other connection members as well as the company itself. Also, you have the fair use statement and terms of service. These are just the rules I need to follow while guiding you guys. If I break any of these rules, my access is revoked and the connection gets terminated."
Zhongli looks at the screen for a brief period before turning to you with his arms crossed. "You say these are rules."
You nodded. "Yes sir."
"...They sound more like contracts to me."
...
"I mean..." you scratched the back of your neck. "I wouldn't say contracts, per se. I guess you could call them... agreements?"
Zhongli raised an eyebrow. "So now they're agreements?"
...
Welp. It was a good run while it lasted.
You sighed heavily and lowered your head in shame. "No. You're right. They're contracts."
Zhongli nodded in agreement. "As I thought."
"Sorry." you apologized.
...
"Do you know what is listed in the contracts."
You looked up at Zhongli. He still bore a curious expression on his face. There wasn't any anger nor frustration hinted anywhere.
"Ummm... Not really."
Zhongli was quick to furrow his eyebrows. Okay, now he's looking a bit mad. "You signed a contract without reading its contents?"
You scooched your chair a tiny bit away from Zhongli to give you some more space. "Well I mean, yeah, but I'm not the only one who does that. Everyone does! Nobody's got the time nor the patience to read all of that legal jargon."
Zhongli's eyebrows furrowed even further. You might be overexaggerating out of fear, but he looks absolutely pissed. Now would be the best time to make a smart life decision.
"Oh please, Rex Lapis," you pleaded, kneeling on the floor with your hands pressed together in prayer. "I beg for forgiveness, o merciful Archon."
"Spare me your theatrics."
You winced. That didn't work out as well as you hoped.
A couple of seconds passed by before Zhongli let out a deep sigh. "I don't know what you were thinking when you decided to blindly sign multiple contracts.
...
"However, I am willing to go through each contract for you and teach you of anything you should be aware of for now and for the foreseeable future."
...
"...Huh...?"
"You mean... I'm not gonna suffer the Wrath of the Rock?"
"The Wrath of the Rock??" Zhongli asks, flabbergasted. "Did you really think I was going to hurt you?"
...
"Yes..." you answered, meekly.
Zhongli's face softened before he placed a hand on your shoulder. "I would never harm you nor let anyone bring harm you, [Y/N]. I'd be a fool to do so after all that you have done for my friends, for Liyue, and for Teyvat."
He gave a soft smile. "I'm just letting you know that you should be more careful while signing any contracts in the future. You never know if you're getting a fair agreement if you never read its contents."
You nodded, smile also on your face. "Yes sir, I'll read every contract from now on, sir."
"Good. Now then, would you kindly read the contents of each contract to me. I'll stop you if I need to mention anything worth noting."
You spent the next couple of hours going over each contract, taking notes on anything Zhongli deemed worth of remembering. You guess that showing him the actual game will come at a later time.
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Author Side Notes: Wow that Zhongli bit took up a lot of this. In all honesty, it could probably be it's own thing separate from all of the other shenanigans.
By the way, I imagine that Zhongli uses reading glasses. I don't why I think that, but I feel like it suits him for some reason.
#genshin impact#genshin reverse isekai#reverse isekai#reverse isekai genshin#genshin impact sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin self aware#sagau x reader#sagau#sagau genshin#genshin venti#genshin kaeya#genshin diluc#genshin xingqiu#genshin zhongli
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new house, new title- b.floyd
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a/n: intended for fem reader, but as always imagine what you like:)))))))))
summary: how you and bob settle into your new home
pairing: bob floyd x reader
warnings: none
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Bob was nervous. He loved you and he saw himself going old with you and having children, and eventually grandchildren. A family is all he’d ever wanted in life. He’d grown up in a huge family that shaped who he was, of course he wanted that for his kids. When he was a kid and an adult asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, he told them he wanted to be a dad.
Now, standing outside of your newly-purchased farmhouse sitting on a hefty 15 acres of land, a barn and stables just a 3 minute walk from the house, and a small cove leading to the lake partly on your land, just a 10 minute walk away, yet he was nervous.
Why? you may ask. Well, Bob hadn’t proposed yet. Which is what he was planning on doing right now.
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You looked so pretty, messy hair and moving clothes on from the exhausting day, yet you were still smiling at him the same way you do every time, with pure adoration and love.
You two were sitting outside on a picnic blanket as the sunsets, the golden sun keeping you warm as the summer breeze gently blew past you.
“I can’t believe it’s ours,” You smiled. “It’s so beautiful.”
Bob’s eyes stayed trained on your figure, going over his speech one more time, the ring in his pocket feeling heavier and heavier.
“You’re so beautiful,” he smiled and you chuckled. One thing you’d learnt about Bob Floyd is that Bob had moves he’d just never used while flirting. Trust me, he used it now.
“So are you,” you smiled, Bob would never get used to your compliments, his ears and cheeks turning red as a shy smile spread across his face.
“Baby-” Bob was starting, but you yelped, spotting a small kitten in the distance. Immediately jumping up and running over to grab it. Bob didn’t know what was happening at all, so he jumped up and followed, running after you. “Baby!”
“Rob, look!” You squealed in delight, the small black kitten in your arms, nuzzling into you as she shivered. You were the only person in the world who called him ‘Rob’, ‘Robby’, or ‘Bobby’. He loved it. He smiled at the scene in front of him. You were a vision in the sunset, the small kitten looking so comfortable in your protective arms. Bob could hear more meowing from behind and found the rest of the litter, and the mother cat asleep.
“Baby-” He started, knowing that looking your eyes.
“We’re keeping all of them,” you said decisively. Bob stared at you with an amused smile. “What? They live on our land anyway, why not let them into the house and feed them?”
“There’s 10 of them!” He laughed.
“You can name like 5 of them,” you shrugged. “Maybe 4.”
Bob laughed again, pulling your waist into his. This was the perfect moment, he’d never felt more love in his life. He pressed a kiss to your lips as his hand reached into his pocket to find… nothing. He pulled away abruptly, panic setting in.
“Rob, what’s wrong?” You asked as you recognised the anxiety in his eyes. “Rob?”
“I dropped it,” he admitted, horror filling his features. “I dropped the ring.”
Now it was your turn to panic. What ring? Was he finally proposing? “Holy shit,” you gasped out. “You’re proposing.”
“Yes I am, and I dropped the ring somewhere back there,” he hid his face in his hands. He’d ruined it. He was the worst boyfriend/ maybe fiancee/ maybe ex-boyfriend?
“Yes. I’ll marry you,” you smiled, tears falling from your wide eyes. Bob looked up immediately, shock filling his features.
“You will?” He smiled, his hands circling your waist. You nodded furiously, the kitten still in your arms as you held it tighter, careful not to hurt it. “I love you so much, and it’s been a long time coming- I know that,” he smiled when you giggled. Even if he dropped the ring he might as well continue with his spiel. “And I’m sorry it took me so long. To be honest I’ve had the ring in my bedside locker for a year now,” that earned him a (deserved) slap on the arm. He chuckled, raising his hands in defeat. “And I’ve wanted to marry you everyday for the past 6 years. You are the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me, I swear to god, when you walked in on me changing in your mom’s house-” You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I never thought I’d find the love of my life. But I did. And I’m so glad I did. You are everything to me, I love you a lot more than I can ever try to put into words. Thank you for just being here. I love you, and sorry that I dropped the ring- it was real pretty, at least I thought it was.”
“I don’t give a shit about a stupid ring Rob,” you chuckled. “You’re going to be my husband,” you smiled, kissing him heavily.
“It’s not stupid,” he defended it, an uncertain insecurity running through his voice. “I-I made it,” he admitted sheepishly. “But if you want something else I don’t mind-”
“I’m finding that ring,” you said definitively. You loved it when Bob made you stuff, he was the epitome of ‘to be loved to to be known’. That man made you things at least once a week to make your life easier, even in the early stages of your relationship. “And I only want that ring Bob,” You smiled and kissed him again, then handed him the kitten in your arms as you walked off, beginning to look while the sun was still up.
Bob looked down at the kitten in his arms, protectiveness filling him almost immediately. He wanted to name this one Patch because of the patch of white on his stomach. His baby fever had been bad in recent months, but seeing you hold the kitten in your arms, so contempt and protective, he was sure he was ready to have children that second.
Fuck waiting until after the wedding.
“I found it!” You shouted, holding up the small box Bob had dropped earlier.
“Bring it over here!” He shouted back. “Don’t open it yet!”
“Why not?” You asked, running over.
“Cause I have to get down on one knee,” he smiled, his southern charm pulling out all of the stops. He lowered himself onto one knee, the ring box in one hand with the kitten in the other. “So Y/n, will you do me the honours of marrying me?” He smiled up at you, and when you wrapped your arms around his neck, practically screaming ‘yes’ he knew he was exactly where he needed to be. He also knew you two were definitely keeping all of those cats. He also knew he loved you, a lot.
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navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)
topgun masterlist :) (requests open!)
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#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fic#bob floyd fanfiction#robert bob floyd#criminal minds#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#robert floyd#top gun fanfiction#lewis pullman x reader#lewis pullman#hangman top gun#top gun maverick#top gun 1986
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Swapcation
I can't believe I finally did it. I was so afraid to use my powers I got and now look at me. A fat kid like me would never walk around like this. Parading around
I still feel guilty though
14 hours ago:
My family spoke about receiving my powers for many years. They all got their chance for a few years when they were young but one day their power run out when they got too old. It took a few years for each person.
But now I was the youngest out of our family and they all were looking forward to use my powers to swap them into younger bodies. I hated this idea, cause they usually picked a family they knew and replaced them. What did my family do with the other swapped family are you asking? You don't wanna know.
And that's why I escaped the night before my family got their hands on me. I couldn't let another family get killed of like so many before. I just have to swap soon enough before my family finds me a tries to use me for themselves. Unfortunately it won't be easy, cause after centuries of swapping, they got themselves into the higher class and got enough money to do whatever they wanted.
I ran through the forest with my backpack and got to the nearest road. It was the middle of the night and there weren't cars nearby. I walked for an hour and arrived to a 24/7 diner. Perfect. I can hitchhike from here.
The only three people in the diner were the chef, waitress and some guy. He looked like a bussiness man coming from some trip. Sipped his coffee, maybe heading somewhere and trying to get some cofein to not fall asleep behind the wheel.
I aproached him:"Hey, I was just wondering if you were taking hitchhikers by any chance?" I asked with a shaky voice.
He looked at me with his exhausted eyes:"Where are you heading? Got a name kid?"
"North," I exclaimed, " and the name is Kenneth. Nice to meet you."
I saw a spark in his eyes. Maybe it was just a coincidence. "Really? North? There isn't anything but wilderness for miles." I didn't respond. And just nodded. He continued:"Well we got a lot to talk about then"
We headed to the car. He was driving a black Toyota. That's all I could say about that car. I knew shit about cars
His car was clean, but he had a lot of bags in the trunk. Probably from the business trip, I thought.
An hour of smalltalk about my life and himself followed. His name was Matthew, and he worked as a marketer on west coast. He quit university a few years ago and went on to get more money. From the talk all I could notice was the way his hands moved, his beautifully manly hands. His biceps was carefully wrapped around by the blue short sleeve of his T-shirt. I could only imagine what it would be like to kiss his beard and continue to his chest. Burry myself there. I wondered if he was hairy there just as his arms were.
As I was dreaming about this beautiful specimen I didn't even notice that he made a few slight turns. As he kept talking and I was admiring him, out of the pitch black forest a diner emerged. The same diner we came back from.
I looked at him horrified
"You didn't think that your parents would let you get away? Sorry for the change of your plans for the vacation, but your family needs you and I was promised a lot of money. So I gotta get you back."
Fuck. No. I can't let this happen. I can't go back. I gotta find a way out of here.
The doors were locked, so there was no way I was getting out of there. Begging didn't seem like a valid option. I noticed the time 2:09. It's my birthday. I wonder. If this doesn't work then I am dead. If I don't do anything my family will use me. I can't let the happen.
I concentrated hard enough. I have never swapped before, but I knew how from my family. They all went through it many times.
I felt warmth coming straight from my head, following to my hands.
We were few miles from my home
Now or never
I jumping at him. My right hand grabbing the wheel and turning it to the right. My left hand grabbing his shoulder.
A moment of darkness. For a short glimpse I saw my own face shocked and screaming. Then we hit the tree.
I got out of the car as soon as possible. My body didn't move. I killed him. I did the same thing, like my family to all the others.
I ran to the backseat, grabbed my backpack a ran striaght to the forest. I could hear sirens in the distance. I have to run now.
Present
I think it has been far enough for now. The forest ened with a beautiful large meadow between two massive mountains. Sun already shined and I could slow down for a minute.
I took off my ripped shirt and jeans. If someone saw them they would think that a bear attacked.
In my view were now two beautifully sculpted hairy pecs and even more beautiful abs. I went through every ridge my fingers found. The skin was tigh and warm. After the run I completely forgot I was now Matthew. Not Jake anymore. But Matthew. Beautiful hot sexy Matthew.
I spoke out. What a manly voice I now possess I though. My hand touching my neck and the other my lips and beard as I spoke. I smelled my armpit. The stentch of sweat was extremely strong but erotic. I went to admire my new hairy legs. I slowly started from my strong thighs, through the thick carpet of hair covering them, following to my new feet. I took off the shoes. My feet are massive now.
The last thing I didn't see yet was already awaiting hard. I got completely naked. There I was. A man! A hot sexy man. Sculpted like a statue with a hard and large dick in hand. I jerked off slowly and with my other hand I kept on exploring the already touched areas. I went on to masturbate rapidly just until the streams of cum kept pouring out off me.
I stood there smiling, laughing.
And then the clarity hit. I took Matthew's life. I did that to stop my family, but that didn't make it easier.
There was no going back now. I took my backpack and the rest of my clothes that weren't destroyed, hoping I would get a chance to get some on the way.
"I am Matthew Daniels and I am on a vacation. I am Matthew."
I went into the beautiful nature to continue my journey. I still feel guilty. Maybe the feeling will pass. I hope...
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It’ll be Okay.
WordCount: 1.2k
A/N: this was incredibly rushed, I also finished this at like 4am at work so yeah!!!!!
lmk if y’all want a sequel, hehe :)
Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, Depression, arguing, angst with a happyish ending!
If everything happens for a reason, I think most of us would like to know what the reason is. especially the brutal, insecure, John Mactavish.
Johnny and Simon. it was almost always them two. if you saw one, the other was looming behind. or atleast, that’s how it had been until Simon was 18, and Johnny was 15.
groaning, johnny heard the deafening beeping of the shared alarm clock the two men had. “..Si, turn that bloody thing off..” johnny mumbled, opening his eyes, but to his astonishment, simon was nowhere to be seen. “..si?”
now, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for simon to often disappear, and not be back until 4pm. But it wasn’t late. it was 7am, and simon was not a morning person. something this time was different. something johnny didn’t like.
“..Simon?” johnny was more awake by now, he pulled a hoodie on, too sleepy to see which one it even was— for all he knows, it could be simon’s.
he dragged himself out of the bed, looking in the bathroom; the shower was steamy, but nonetheless empty. “Simon? This.. this ain’t funny, lad.” johnny complained, going downstairs. he entered the sitting room, seeing a collection of empty coffee culls, sighing; and johnny being the man he is, he picked them each up. “so he’s definitely awake.” johnny agreed with himself.
he walked into the living room, and the sight he saw caused him to drop each coffee cup with an ear piercing crash.
there simon was, in what seemed a military uniform?
“Did i miss an invitation to a dress up party?” johnny chuckled, “What the hell is tha’..? Why are you wearing an army uniform.”
simon looked dreadful. his dirty blonde hair wet, his uniform looked like it was pulled on incredibly fast, and his cheeks rosy. he sighed. “I told you.” simon said in a hushed tone.
“Told me what?” johnny accused. “That I was leaving for the military as soon as i could, I’m eighteen now. i can, legally.”
johnnys heart lurched. “you.. you dinnae think this is a bit.. eh..” he paused. “irrational?”
“So it’s irrational for me to want to get out of a bad lifestyle now.” simon retorted, pointing a finger at johnny. “You told me to do this, John. You told me, that i should.”
being called john killed johnny. simon never used that name for him, it was johnny. he was simon’s johnny. and he’s just throwing that away?
“We were twelve!” johnny mumbled, faking a smile, but getting a head shake of disapproval from simon. “No, you were twelve. I was fifteen.”
“So what? You’re just gonna leave me because you’re eligible? You’re just gonna.. throw away our history?”
“we don’t have history, johnny. get that in your head.”
“who am i, simon?”
“..well your johnny.”
“how do you know?”
“you told me when we met.”
“that’s history, isn’t it?”
“we’re nothing, johnny. we aren’t a thing. all you are, is a useless man that’s decided i can’t be who i want anymore.”
johnny fell silent, “fine. go. but dinnae ever text me again. yeah?” and with that, the two parted. never seeing eachother for years.
until.
johnny joined the military aged 23, if honest, he had forgotten about simon. yeah, he still had a picture of him on simon’s shoulders at a birthday party when simon turned ten. yeah, he did. but he didn’t ever talk about him. if he was asked, all simon was? ‘oh. just my mother’s friend’s kid.’
When organised into a task force for a mission, johnny was added to Task Force 141. With three other men, Kyle Gaz Garrick, John Price, and Ghost; which for some reason, refused to share his legal name.
It was the morning of a so-called simple mission. get in, get intel, stay under cover, get out. general shepherd ordered everyone to be put into teams of two. One inside, one outside. and just purely by luck.. johnny and ghost were paired. johnny, who now had the nickname Soap, was inside to get the intel: Ghost on overwatch.
Soap had been dreading being paired with the ice cold lieutenant, not because he was scared of him, he wasn’t. more because he never spoke.
“Ghost. You’ll be paired with Sergeant MacTavish.” the general barked at Ghost. Ghost seemed annoyed, “Me? With him? Oh. No, no i’m
not going with him.”
Soap’s hearts lurched, what had he done wrong? He decided to make himself known, walking into the room with the gruff lieutenant, and nasty general. “Am i.. interrupting somethin’?” Soap asked quietly, rubbing the back of his neck.
The General shook his head, “No, no you’re not, my boy. In fact I was just telling Ghost here. You two are being out together for our upcoming mission.”
acting surprised, soap tilted his head. “..Oh.”.
“See. Even J-.. Mactavish. Even Mactavish agrees.” Ghost responded, “General If i may-,” he continued, but got cut off. “Ghost I don’t want a word. You? are here because of pity. You may not, get out of my sight. Both of you.”
Ghost physically recoiled, quietly. looking on the ground. Soap noticed this. He was always good at noticing things others didn’t, the General left the room, leaving Mactavish and Ghost alone.
“..Sir..?” Soap began, but got disregarded by a hand waving away. “Leave it, Sergeant.”
“..You’re familiar.” Soap said suddenly, before even thinking. Ghost stared at him, “No I’m not.”
“I recognise you, I jus.. can’t quite remember who you are.” “Maybe we were friends in another life.” “No chance it was this one..?” “Highly doubt it, sergeant.” “I’m being serious!” Soap complained.
“And so am I. I don’t believe in this, it was destiny, kinda bs.” Ghost snapped, shaking his head.
“..wait,” Soap began, staring at Ghost closely. But Ghost wasn’t here to listen. “Enough of it, sergeant.”
Soap went silent before finally speaking.
“Simon goddamn Riley.”
Ghost froze. It had been a long time since someone called him that name, let alone the new sergeant?
“..Johnny.”
Soap nodded.
Now, in normal statements, Ghost would’ve yelled at a sergeant for using his real name, but something told Ghost that Soap knew the name from the past, not from reading a dossier.
“..No, no you can’t be here.”
“Si.”
“You can’t see me like this. I’ve changed, I’m not the eighteen year old foolish kid I was.”
“But you were my foolish kid, eh?”
Ghost froze again, shaking his head no. “I’m not gonna just let myself get so caring about a kid I knew when I was a teenager.”
“Simon we had history!”
“This? This isn’t history, Johnny.”
“Can we make it be?”
“You were nothing. Get that in your delusional mind.”
Soap froze.
“..Well. Glad I made ya’ feel that way, Si. ‘cause you were- no, you //are// my everything.”
“Don’t play the victim.”
“I’m not the victim if I’m truly hurt.”
“What?”
“Even if you’re a cold.. stoic, Lieutenant. I will love you either way.”
“Nobody loves me. Nobody loved me.”
“I did.”
“So what? Is this a pity, now? Am I being pitied for depression? For PTSD?”
“Si. You know damn well I don’t pity people.” Soap began confidently. “And you? You’re not pitied. It’s called love.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Oh but you DID know Si, you did know because you knew I loved every fibre of your cold body and I still do.”
Ghost shook his head, his eyes even becoming slightly watery. His hands were clasped in each other as he nervously tugged at his skin.
“I love you every day.”
“ … “
“I love you too.”
#ᯓ★ timo writes.#call of duty#cod mw3#cod#angst#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#ghost#simon riley
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Hey I like your posts. I hope people aren’t uncomfortably parasocial in your ask box anymore. Have a good one
Thank you - I appreciate the sentiment.
Honestly? I'm probably just gonna publish the ask I've been working on answering tomorrow and then take a break for a few days. That ask is triggering something in me and I need to take time sort out that feeling.
#frankly - i don't want to talk to whoever that anon was because i'm deeply soured on them#but in the future? my dms are open#you can just talk to me directly if you don't understand the context of something i've said#you can just ask#like. i'm guarded because - well - this is the internet#and also i'm. deeply autistic. and i'm very open about that.#and sometimes? i do fail to communicate ideas in the ways i intend#and if that happens you can just ask - i am still a person behind the persona i attempt to uphold on this blog#i curate an idea of myself out of necessity#and i think most people on here do that too#but yeah. we're all people underneath that.#but also i'm not going to extend that kind of vulnerability publicly to strangers online#especially not ones who are assuming the worst in me#asks#anon
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THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION TELLS CHUCK TINGLE TO STAY HOME BUT WE PROVE LOVE ANYWAY
just when you buckaroos thought 2024 would be a break from book drama, here comes chuck tingle in the mix. recently i was asked to be a featured speaker at the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION annual conference. a few days ago they rescinded my invitation. here is what happened.
(EDITED TO ADD THIS LINK. if you have a hard time reading this on way of tumblr you can also read for free on chucks patreon)
i would like to start off by saying it is not my intent to start a fight, and all those reading this should know that the actions of a few misguided folks do not speak for the whole TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. i am sure there are many involved who will be very upset to learn what others at TLA have done in their name. there are many individuals here, so please do not paint them all as villains in your mind. besides, chuck loves the dang library everyone knows that.
the point of writing this is not to vilify. i am writing this is because MOMENTS OF DARKNESS are the best places to SHINE A LIGHT AND PROVE LOVE IS REAL. this is a perfect time for learning and growing and for us talk on some very important things that queer buckaroos and neurodivergent buckaroos face every day. this is an unfortunate moment that WE can turn around and use to prove love is real.
i am also writing this to understand some of my own personal feelings on the matter. for something that seems very simple on the surface, the trot is complex, and i am still working out my emotions on the whole dang thing. i am learning in this way.
PART ONE: BAG OF LOVE
a few months ago chuck was asked to be a featured speaker at the 2024 TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION ANNUAL CONFERENCE. i have been asked to do things like the before and it is ALWAYS a fun time to meet bookseller and librarian buds. trotting around face to face and talking about my story of conquering chronic pain and overcoming my mental hurdles is VERY IMPORTANT to me. i say YES to these things whenever i can. (here i am with authors at CALIFORNIA INDEPENDENT BOOKSELLERS ALLIANCE conference. they are a WONDERFUL group and they proved love with their OWN invitation to chuck. this was such a moving event with so many amazing authors and stories. got very teared up during this photo)
ANYWAY BUCKAROOS i get the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION invite and say 'YES BUD LETS TROT'. we are then confirmed.
months pass. a few weeks ago i get a call from my manager and agent and publisher saying ‘the TLA have rescinded their invitation.’
turns out some things had been going on behind the scenes
at some point the TLA asked chucks INCREDIBLE HEROIC BAD ASS PUBLISHER if chuck would be okay with not wearing the mask, to which tor/nightfire/macmillan said ‘what the heck are you talking about of course chuck is going to wear his mask. this is how chuck presents himself’ (NOT EXACT QUOTE)
as you all know, my pink bag way is a VERY IMPORTANT SPACE. as an autistic buckaroo it is a boundary that allows me to express myself freely and relieve my chronic pain from neurotypically masking all day. i have talked about this for years, and it is why i consider my private identity a SACRED THING. it is literally a health issue.
fortunately THE PINK BAG is never really a problem when making appearances. i have spent years going on television shows, doing interviews, speaking at other conferences and conventions, hosting book events on tour, and even MEETING WITH LAWYERS in my pink face covering. it is always respected and that is very validating to my way.
when arriving anywhere i always take precautions. i always warn buckaroos ahead of time that there is a masked man coming. i always have someone go in ahead of me JUST IN CASE. again, there has never been an issue. at a big conference where i am a special guest there is ESPECIALLY not an issue because my face and bio are printed IN THE DANG PROGRAM
SOME FUN TIMES AT BIG EVENTS BELOW:
CHUCK ON TV SHOW NAME OF 'AT MIDNIGHT' BACK BEFORE I WROTE LOVE IS REAL ON MY HEAD:
well, there has never been an issue.... UNTIL NOW.
PART TWO: RESCINDED
a few days ago TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION suddenly messaged my publishers and said that chuck tingle is no longer invited. my invitation was rescinded. the reason given was that people could possibly be uncomfortable with my mask
right out of the gate i would like to say this: it is absolutely the right of the texas library association to disinvite someone from their conference. it is their event, after all, and they can ban anyone they would like, for any reason.
of course, that doesnt mean other folks HEARING THIS NEWS wont have their own opinions the TLA choices. if the TLA disinvites someone, their reasoning for doing this can be discussed and analyzed. whether or not they follow their own guidelines can be questioned, and certainly their kindness and tact can be considered
there are a few BIG POINTS to make regarding this choice from the TLA
first and foremost, i just gotta say buckaroos, it is incredibly rude to invite someone to be a guest speaker at your event, have them confirm and mark off their calendar and turn down other offers, then rescind their invitation. this is maybe the simplest of the points, but it is an important one.
second, (DEEP BREATH HERE WE GO BUCKAROOS) i personally do not think of my autism as a disability very often, but i also KNOW that despite these feelings it ABSOLUTELY IS. autism is important to be listed as a recognized disability because of the help some autistic buckaroos need regarding government programs and things like that. ALSO just because my neurodivergence has helped me in some ways (hyperfocus and a unique artistic sensibility for example). i personally need to step back and remember my battle with stress and chronic pain from having to neurotypically mask all the time. for as much as i love being autistic it has made some things very difficult.
in other words, i am perfectly capable of speaking and interacting with folks without this pink bag on my head BUT WHEN I AM IN THE CHUCK TINGLE SPACE I REQUIRE IT. i can ONLY use this space while covering my face. is not a want. it is a need. holding this boundary is more important than i can ever say. i will not, and can not, let these spaces cross.
TLA not letting an autistic author wear the face cover theyve set up to express their neurodivergence in a safe, healthy way is--for lack of a better term--NOT A GOOD LOOK.
i cannot fathom them disinviting another author for using a disability aid. i cannot fathom them saying that a buckaroo who hears better with a hearing device cannot use it during their panel because it would make others 'uncomfortable'.
but here we are.
PART THREE: WHAT DOES A BUCKAROO GOTTA DO TO GET BANNED AROUND HERE?
this is the TLAs official stance on disability issues according to their website:
when poking around on the TLA website i noticed a few other things. i noticed a previous guest speaker wearing a niqab, and i was left wondering if the religious significance is what make that okay but chuck tingle banned. that made sense until i looked deeper and saw mascot buckaroos dressed up on the exhibition floor, and saw some kind of spiderbud in a costume contest. nobody around them seemed to be all that scared. their invitations REMAINED INTACT.
it should be mentioned here that AT ONE POINT during the discussions an email was sent from TLA saying chuck is allowed to come and wear his mask in the exhibition halls and smaller panels, just not at any of the big PAID PANELS i was once supposed to participate on. this was a confusing offer, but their explanation was that people who paid for something should have the option to not see chucks 'scary neurodivergence aid'. i tried to wrap my head around WHY they would make a distinction. maybe the exchange of money (rather than time) causes some kind of philosophical adjustment that i just cant grasp?
i wonder, would the author who wears a niqab ALSO be banned from the paid panels? i hope not
my answers trotted up short until i investigated deeper and found this quick moment from one of the TLA help videos. while some events DO require additional buckaroo cash, it actually appears that THE ENTIRE CONFERENCE IS TICKETED AND COSTS MONEY.
at this point i realized there is clearly no actual official policy about not covering your face (other than one from a few years ago saying that you HAVE to cover your face), and the addition of 'money' is a red herring. these excuses make no sense
PART FOUR: CLOSE THOSE GATES
it appears that my neurodivergence is 'scary' enough to get me uninvited, REGARDLESS what their disability and mask policies may say
BUT WHY? why is chucks preferred physical presentation valued SO little by the TLA that a THEORETICAL complaint is worth more? is my neurodivergent expression so awful? is my own safety as a queer activist such an afterthought?
is a pink bag with the words 'love is real' scrawled across the front REALLY going to frighten someone when the posters and pamphlets on the way into in panel would have a photo of my masked face saying THIS IS LITERALLY WHO IS ABOUT TO APPEAR BEFORE YOU.
if THAT accommodation is too much, would it really be so difficult to have someone trot out beforehand and make an announcement? to say 'there is someone on this upcoming panel who needs a mask to express this part of himself, if this makes you uncomfortable then this panel might not be for you'.
and really, i have to heckin ask, is this physical expression of my raw inner truth really so hideous and frightening that fear of making someone uncomfortable is a REAL problem?
(a terrifying display of autism. apparently)
i cannot imagine what kind of precautions they need to take before a stage play featuring costumes and masks.
you MIGHT think chucks queerness and left leaning politics could be the issue with this organization, but they have had drag queens as past speakers (also featuring some GLORIOUS makeup and hair that covers almost all of their faces. VERY CURIOUS). regardless, the TLA do not seem like a conservative bunch.
if you are bisexual or an autistic person who is good at 'passing' you probably already know where this is headed, your dang spiderbuckaroo senses are tingling at FULL ALERT. i will say i do not KNOW the real reason why i was uninvited, and i do not have enough information to make any concrete statement of the real answer. there is only evidence that masks have been fine at TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION events in the past, but not much else to go on.
so the FACTS part of our discussion ends there, but i think it opens us up to talk about some very important feelings that bisexual and autistic buckaroos know well.
THIS is where we take a unfortunate, hurtful moment and turn it into a discussion. this is where we prove love is real.
as someone who is constantly doubted and put through purity tests because of my unique way, we are pushing up against a subject i know well. thats right buckaroos: we are talking GATEKEEPING
AGAIN, i do not know if this is the answer, but someone in my position might be VERY STRONGLY INCLINED TO THINK that a few well-meaning left leaning buckaroos think i am a joke and that this is a character, and that there is something problematic about my work because i am not really a real person.
any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a neurodivergent buckaroo with an unusual visual presentation, an autistic buckaroo who conquered his chronic pain ONLY by creating this important space... but what about a FAKE autistic buckaroo?
any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a queer LGBTQ activist standing up for gay and trans rights against a torrent of scoundrels hunting for his legal identity. its a matter of safety... but what about a FAKE queer activist?
let me be very clear for the 100th time: i am a real person. this is not a joke. i am not playing a character. i am really autistic and bisexual. tinglers are sincere and they are not ‘so bad theyre good’. they are just good. camp damascus is not ‘my first serious book’ because my queer erotica is serious. my art is important and real.
when people tell me to unmask they often do not know WHY they want it, and of course one very good reason is innocent curiosity. but there are SOME cases where i start to get THAT feeling--that tingle all of us ‘passing’ buckaroos get when we can sense the real intent behind the poking and prodding. that is the feeling of stumbling into a gatekeepers crosshairs.
if i was to take off my pink bag, what about my face would you analyze to tell if i was REALLY queer. my eye color? my ear shape? if you learned my legal name, would you see if it sounded autistic? is my voice neurodivergent enough?
or is all of that utterly absurd? i am curious what the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION thinks.
PART FIVE: GENDERED
this will be the shortest of parts, but it has to be said. i have a very complex relationship with gender, as written about at length here and here. i understand these things can be difficult to parse for some, but i ask that you trust me when i say that the ONLY reason i have been able to talk about my gender and sexuality and learn these things about myself is because of this pink bag. this outward appearance is a direct expression and reflection of my gender journey.
if the texas library association does not care about my appearance as an expression of my autism, then i cant imagine them giving a dang about it as an expression of my gender and queerness. that being said, it is personally very important to me and i think it should be mentioned
PART SIX: SO YOU WANT TO REMOVE AN AUTISTIC QUEER AUTHOR FROM YOUR EVENT BECAUSE PEOPLE MIGHT FIND THEIR DIFFERENCES SCARY
there is a question to be asked here: how could the TLA have done this correctly?
i have one very big piece of advice i would like to shout from the rooftops. please, for the love of sweet barbara, DO ENOUGH RESEARCH to know if this appearance will be a problem and, IF SO, dont extend an invitation in the first place. unique buckaroos with different presentations are constantly left in this place of limbo because we are bombarded with careless actions like those of the TLA. before you consider extending a branch to an artist who might need more accommodations than usual, think to yourself 'CAN WE MAKE THESE ACCOMMODATIONS?'
putting all of this on the shoulders of a single 'buckaroo with a difference' is exhausting. as the TLA has shown, we currently live on a timeline where a buckaroo like myself never really knows if an invite is SOLID without doing a deep dive history lesson on how often a group discriminates and against who.
i did not want to spend my whole family holiday worrying whether or not i should say something publicly or just lie down and shut my dang mouth. i had to consider HOW i should say it. i had to worry whether or not its worth standing up for myself in the face of the largest state library association in the country. i think buckaroos with differences are with me when i say: WE ARE SICK OF HAVING TO DO THIS WORK TO COVER FOR THE POOR BEHAVIOR OF LARGE ORGANIZATIONS WHO TREAT US BADLY
another option would just be to use kindness and common sense and happily accommodate artists with unique presentations to your conventions
PART SEVEN: LOVE IS STILL REAL
i would like to close by saying THANK YOU to my publisher nightfire and editor kelly for standing up for me. they immediately stood firm and had my back. they are the real dang deal. THANK YOU to my management and agent buds dongwon and gino for trotting along beside me. THANK YOU to the folks at the texas library association who initially invited chuck with goodness in their heart and then likely got bowled over by someone else, and maybe even got knocked to the side by a big closing gate.
i hope there are librarians in texas who are still interested in carrying BURY YOUR GAYS when it comes out (which is ironically about someone who creates a space through art to express their queerness where they cant otherwise). libraries prove love is real and what they do IS SO IMPORTANT. it was SO IMPORTANT TO ME as a young buckaroo and i cannot thank you enough. i am not sure if me writing all of this will hurt my sales in some way, but this opportunity to speak about the reality of disability awareness and queer gatekeeping is too important to stay silent. (if you have not already preordered BURY YOUR GAYS then give it a preorder to make up for some texas library losses i guess.)
which leads me to my final thank you. THANK YOU to the buckaroos reading this. yes YOU. i am in the position to stand up and speak my mind against scoundrel forces ONLY because i have the might of you buckaroos by my side. the buckaroo trot is ALL OF OUR TROT and we are ALL HERE TO PROVE LOVE. i cannot tell you how much i appreciate the way you have created a space for me to express these important parts of myself. you have seen this pink mask over my face and saying YES, I ACCEPT YOU, you have literally saved my life. for that i am so thankful.
if you are UPSET by what youve read here, then turn it into something positive. you can support autistic creators, or make a donation to the AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK
and besides WHO IS REALLY MISSING OUT? this is what it looks like when you invite the worlds greatest author chuck tingle to your event and treat their identity as valid. WE HAVE A DANG GOOD TIME
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KEEP TROTTING INTO THE FUTURE. KEEP KICKING DOWN GATES WHEREVER THEY MAY BE. KEEP PROVING LOVE IS REAL AND PROVING IT TOGETHER. lets go buckaroos - chuck
UPDATE AN HOUR AFTER POSTING:
true buckaroo TJ KLUNE was set to be another author on panel chuck was removed from and has informed me he has now chosen to decline his invitation in support and solidarity with chuck. i am so deeply moved by this. thank you from bottom of heart buckaroo
to be very clear TJ has a huge platform and DOES NOT NEED TO DO THIS. these conferences are great for book sales and he is taking a hit out of pure solidarity. this is queer buckaroos standing up for eachother. i am floored by this kindness and love
please consider checking out his books if they are not already covering your dang bookshelf. chuck blurbed IN THE LIVES OF PUPPETS and i was blown away i heckin loved it
MOST RECENT UPDATE:
here is more
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—𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭—
pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader
summary . she needs you, in multiple ways — she's just scared to ask for it.
warnings . smut — I am NOT responsible for the content you consume — thigh riding, scissoring, fingering, vulnerable sex (because yes), taking care of Nat because she deserves it.
notes . English is not my first language, I'm brazilian, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. this is probably the first fic I ever post so hi hi!!!
(I'm sorry if this is bad, I literally wrote that in a waiting room, completely in a rush.)
divider credits: @cafekitsune ^^
You didn't know exactly why the TV was on. You weren't interested on the show, and Natasha wasn't even looking at it. Her eyes looked down as she fidgeted with her fingers. You could tell she was anxious, that something was bothering her.
You just never expected that this was something to do with you — no, you didn't do anything wrong. It was her.
Natasha and you met years ago, and had been in a situationship for a while now. You weren't friends, but somehow, you couldn't recall the time you started dating (because it never existed). Friends with benefits was too cliché, and maybe not enough to describe what you actually had with her.
To begin with it, you met Natasha when she was still an Avenger. You were never part of the team, but they treated you as if you were. You were close to everyone, but specially Natasha. There was a reason she had let that happen, since according to her, she was in New York to be a hero, and not to have friends.
Friends.
The moment the russian started to blush whenever Thor teased her about how close she was to you or when you simply stared at her for a few seconds or more was when she realized that she made a mistake. A good one, she hoped. In a heartbeat, she was telling you her story.
You listened — just, listened. Your hand went to brush her hair behind her ear whenever she looked down, and the sparkle of pride in your eyes was not something she could miss. You didn't pity her. You didn't try to bring up a justification for what she went through, or to bring up a solution to fix her. You were proud of her for who she became, and were there for her whenever she didn't want to be that person for a while.
It was with that trust in you that she found herself wanting, craving even, something more. She's human, wether she like it or not. She can't deny her feelings or urges, not even the most dangerous spy can.
So her walls broke when you said you were going with her to Norway after the Avengers split.
Natasha shifted a little in the couch, the blankets around her getting all crumpled as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Your focus went from the soft patting of the raindrops in the window to the woman next to you, as you frowned a bit.
"Nat?" you called, leaning your side against the backrest of the couch and looking at her. "What's wrong?"
She turned to you, a little startled, but tried to shake it off with a small grin. "Oh, it's nothing. It's just a little hot in here."
"We're in Norway," you laughed, giving her that goddamn smile of yours. "And.. it's raining."
"The..." she shook her head, failing miserably to come up with an excuse. "The blankets are making me hot."
"Mhm, are they?" you raised an eyebrow, and pulled the blankets off you both, and letting half of them fall to the floor. "Better?"
Natasha shivered, but nodded nonetheless. You saw she was unquiet, and that this looked a little more serious than the normal.
"Natasha."
"Yeah?"
"What is going on?" you repeated your question, scooting closer to her and placing your hand above hers — just to make things worse.
Natasha almost whined at your action, which made you pull your hand back and frown even more. "I'm sorry,"
"No, it's not your fault." she shook her head. "It's mine."
"Then tell me." you smiled softly, lifting her head up to meet your eyes with your pointer finger. The sight of her green orbs was something you maybe never saw before.
"I..." she mumbled, clearing her throat. She then grabbed your hand and held your wrist gently, not sure of what to do next. "I don't know."
"It's okay," you whispered, bringing her hand up and placing a kiss on it. You had no problem with being affectionate and she didn't mind either, but today, it was different.
"Y/n". Natasha whispered back, looking into your eyes and getting lost in them. She was clearly unsure of what to do, and how to express what she was feeling. So she brought your hand up and placed your palm above her heart. Faster than the speed of light.
"Hey..." you cooed, tilting your head as you felt the aggressive beating against your hand. "You... are you, scared of something?"
"No." she quickly shook her head. She wasn't having any negative emotions right now. "I'm not anxious, I'm not scared.. I'm just.."
"Just what?"
The fact she was not having an anxious episode or a panic attack made you slightly relaxed, but not completely — then you realized, the touches you were giving her made her sensitive. She was needy.
The Red Room turned her into a closed person, and that didn't completely vanish when she was with you — it was like there was a bug in her system that had to be fixed, soon. She couldn't be totally open, but not completely closed.
You smiled at the thought, and leaned in closer, inches away from her face, which made her breathing uneven. "Tell me what you need, Nat."
"I..." she took a deep inhale and placed her hand on your cheek, pulling you into an unexpected kiss — a desperate one.
She kissed you frantically, her movements with urgency as she placed her hands behind your neck, trying to pull you close. You couldn't say you expected this, but it wasn't unwelcomed either.
Your hands went to her waist as she shyly crawled onto your lap, her legs hooking around your hips as she pulled away for air, her forehead against yours.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she breathed, feeling her eyes start to burn with unleashed tears.
"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for." you murmured, arms gently wrapping around her as she straddled you. "It's okay, let's not rush things. Let's take deep breaths, mhm?"
The fact you wanted her to calm down before anything almost calmed her down instantly, but she breathed with you, then leaned her head on yours, her cheek on your hair.
"I just need something," she whispered, more calmly now. "I—I think I need you."
"And I'm here," you turned your head to press a kiss on her temple, caressing her back. The redhead melted.
Natasha leaned down to kiss your lips again, but not with urgency. She sighed softly against your lips, her hands moving to hold your face, and yours, to hold her waist. It didn't take long for her to start moving slowly — she shifted, instead of straddling your lap, her legs were around your thigh. Your eyes opened, and you broke the kiss to look at her.
"Nat, my love," you whispered. "Are you sure of this?"
"Please." she uttered back, closing her eyes and gripping your shoulders. "I know you'd ever hurt me.. you would never disrespect me, you would stop if I asked you to. Right... right?"
You smiled sadly, realizing she was trying to reassure herself, and not actually ask you this. "Yes, yes, Natasha. I want to take care of you. I want to see you, beyond that shell they turned you in. I want you to feel comfortable enough with me to ask for this, and this is such a big step for you."
She sighed in relief, hearing the honesty in your voice. She nodded, clearing her throat. She leaned down, hiding her face on the crook of her neck and pressing small, gentle kisses on it. Then her hips started to slowly move, and the tiniest bit of friction made her gasp. "Y/n..."
"Shh," you held her hips, guiding her through her own pace. The little high waisted shorts she wore rolled up, so surprisingly thick that you could feel her wetness. "That's great, Natty. Move yourself for me, like this."
Natasha whined at your words, starting to grind against you slightly faster. The clothes were starting to feel uncomfortable, as she felt the need of you seeing her. She grabbed your hands, and slowly moved them underneath her blouse.
You did what she wanted, grazing your fingernails against her skin and slowly massaging her flesh, resulting in a soft moan of hers. "Take it off." You looked at her with a questioning look, even if you had an idea of what she was asking for. "Undress me, Y/n."
Given her permission, you smoothly lifted her blouse and pulled it over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stopped her movements briefly, just so you could slide her shorts and panties down her thighs, her heat now in contact with your leg making you groan.
She felt your hands moving up to unclasp her bra and smirked softly, holding her arms out so you could take down the straps. That woman was surely breathtaking, her body, her marks, her scars, her voice, her everything.
"Natty," you uttered, pressing kisses in the valley between her breasts and moving up, to her ear. "There's so much I wanna do with you..."
Natasha closed her eyes, your touch making her shiver again, as she began to fastly grind her pussy against your thigh. "Please." she quickly removed your shirt and soon enough, you both were completely naked.
The feeling of skin against hers, the human touch that she never felt when getting off with a strap while thinking of you was unbelievable, a touch that she knew that wouldn't hurt her. It was so good, so different from the men she seduced when a spy, so different from the men that touched her in the Red Room.
"My pretty girl," you hissed, throwing your leg above hers and starting to grind yourself with her. "So beautiful, and all mine."
"Yes," she panted, burying her face in your neck again as her nails lightly scratched your back. "Y/n, please."
"You're coming with me." you sweetly commanded. Natasha started to whisper things in Russian that you couldn't really understand, but you took it as a sign that she was close.
Soon enough, Natasha's legs started to shake and her moans on your ear got slightly louder, you both coming together, her juices mixing with yours. She didn't stop, though. You gasped, looking up at her. She still needed more.
"Touch me." Natasha growled, grabbing your hand and moving it close to her cunt. She was starting to feel confident, and you liked it.
You didn't think twice before burying your middle and pointer fingers on her hole, using your thumb to slowly rub circles on her clit, biting your lip at the sight of her back arched. All for you.
"God, Y/n," she moaned, using her own hands to squeeze her breasts and circle her hard nipples. "Yes, just like that."
"You like it like this?" you asked, shoving one more finger inside her, her moans getting louder. She slowly started to lift herself from your fingers, just to lower her hips again, riding your fingers. "You're gonna come for me again?"
"Yes!" she nodded frantically, her breaths coming in little gasps for air. She gripped your shoulders tightly, throwing her head back and orgasming again. It took a while for her to calm down, and you didn't waste time before gently taking her and laying her down on the couch, spreading her legs and pressing soft kisses on her inner thighs, licking her juices and making her squirm around.
"Y/n," she murmured quietly, reaching her arms out.
"Oh, baby." you pulled Nat into an embrace, holding her close to your chest and caressing her hair, running your fingers through her red locks. "It's alright."
Natasha whimpered, wanting to hide herself in your arms and never come out again. She closed her eyes and laid her head on your chest, arms circling your waist.
The talk about this could wait. The silence was comfortable enough for now.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff soft smut#natasha romanoff x you#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff smut#marvel incorrect quotes#incorrect marvel quotes#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff#natasha marvel#marvel#Spotify
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Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words
alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3
Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.
As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.
[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.
And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.
“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.
[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.
“No problem.”
[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.
After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.
“I don’t see how that’s your business.”
“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”
“Dry cleaner’s.”
Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.
[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.
“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”
“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.
The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.
“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”
“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”
“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”
“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”
“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?
[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.
She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.
Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.
After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.
The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.
Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.
“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.
Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.
[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”
“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.
[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.
“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”
[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.
“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.
It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”
Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.
“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.
“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”
“Hm?”
“Are you nervous?”
“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.
“Yes.”
“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.
“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”
“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.
“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”
Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.
They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”
“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”
[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”
“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.
When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”
—
The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.
“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.
“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”
“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”
“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”
“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.
Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”
“If I must.” [Y/N] said.
With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.
Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.
After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.
Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”
Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.
[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”
“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.
“Junkie is such a strong word…”
“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.
“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.
Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.
Fuck.
Her parents.
[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.
“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.
Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”
“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.
[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.
“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“
[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.
Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.
“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.
“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.
“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.
“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.
“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”
[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”
“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”
“Absolutely and unendingly.”
“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”
“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.
“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.
“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.
“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.
A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.
“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.
Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.
“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”
“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.
The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”
“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”
Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.
“Yes, why?”
“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.
“And?”
“No reason, just making conversation.”
Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”
“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.
“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”
This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”
“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Blowjob.”
“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”
“No.”
“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.
“What?”
In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.
“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.
“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”
“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“
“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”
“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”
“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”
[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.
“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.
“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”
He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.
“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.
[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.
[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.
“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.
More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”
[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.
Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.
“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.
“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.
“How many men have had you behind my back?”
It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.
[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.
That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.
“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“
Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”
“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.
Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.
“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“
“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.
Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.
Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.
Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.
[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”
She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”
“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.
[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.
Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.
“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”
“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”
“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.
“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.
“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”
PART II HERE
TAGLIST:
@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @ndycrls @arminsarlerts @catlover420sstuff @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @watermelonharry @ohantonia @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @nananarwhal @taykorsyogurt
sorry - some of them would not process and actually tag! i tried!!!!! non functional tags indicated with strikethru
#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow#the hunger games#hunger games#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow x you#coryo snow
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Ms. Paramour
Clarisse La Rue X Daughter of Nike!Reader
Summary: Capture the flag might have been your favourite game after what happened between you and clarisse.
Warnings: Kissing, Shy, and Lovesick Clarisse <33
Author's note: THERE WAS THIS SWEET PERSON WHO ASKED FOR A CLARISSE FF WHERE THE READER PINNED CLARISSE DOWN DURING CAPTURE THE FLAG AND THEY STARTED KISSING, I WAS ABOUT TO REPLY TO THAT REQUEST BUT I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT. WHOEVER THAT WAS IM SO SORRY IF WASN'T ABLE TO REPLY TO YOUR REQUEST!!
——
Clarisse La Rue was a bitch.
You can't really describe how much you hate her, not after she embarrassed you at camp years ago. You were a newbie, Before your godly parent, Nike, had claimed you, Clarisse and her little gang had bullied you relentlessly. It all started when your first three months at camp came by, and you were sitting at the mess hall, chewing your food, and daydreaming about your godly parent and what they look like.
Then, a group of campers from the ares cabin (Clarisse's half siblings) handed you a pair of gloves, it was a beautiful pair of gloves, It fits you perfectly, They told you that you can use it once the games had started. It was the very first time someone was kind to you, that's why you accepted it happily, and admired It.
Suddenly, Clarrise and her gang grabbed you, Their grips were tight, they then dragged you all the way to the lake, before they could throw you, They snatched the gloves the kind campers gave you and threw you into the lake. The water was freezing cold.
You gasped and resurfaced, Clarisse and her gang laughed, Just before they were about to leave, Clarisse's eyes caught yours for a moment.
——
You adjusted your blue helmet for the 5th time, the irritating smell of copper filling your nose, making you scrunch your nose in disgust.
Luke and Annabeth then appeared behind you, With their swords at hand, They were discussing the plan before Chiron announced the game.
"Am I clear?" Annabeth asked, Luke nodded and shot you a glance. You were peaking near the trees, trying to take a look at Clarisse who was currently yelling at her teammates.
Annabeth cleared her throat and Luke nudged you, you snapped out of your thoughts a nodded.
——
"Let the games begin" Chiron's voice boomed as Campers let out a cry on the field.
The reds were first to attack, their swords and shields clashed with the blues, The Ares campers were taking the lead, Making blue campers fall one by one.
You then sneaked away, slowly going to the base of the reds, You managed to fight off some campers before eventually reaching the point of the red team.
Clarisse stood proudly and confidently near the flag, her electric spear ready in hand and her posture ready to attack, you snuck up behind her before jumping at her, You wrapped your arms around her neck and made her fall, She groaned, Her helmet was now on the ground, revealing her well kept hair, She turned around swiftly, ready to attack, but you could've sworn you saw her eyes soften the moment she saw you, Nevertheless, She hurled her spear towards you, But you dodged it easily.
"You've got guts, Y/n" She whispered, She then attacked again, but this time, you managed to kick her feet and made her lose balance, You immediately went on top of her pining her with all your strength. Clarisse was now under you, Her breath was ragged, the red and blue helmet you two once wore were now on the ground, You met her eyes and it darted on your pink lips.
You didn't know what you were doing, Hell, Why is this even happening? Without thinking, you slammed your lips against hers, She immediately wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you closer, The kiss clarisse returned was much more hungrier, as if this were her starving days.
Clarisse let out a soft moan, followed by a soft bite on your lower lip, Feeling the need to breath, you were the first one to pulled away, still panting heavily without saying a word, A string of saliva still connected you two.
She was the first one to break the silence.
"I love you," She blurted out. "Then, you smiled, a sincere one that made her melt.
Now, Clarisse La Rue, that terrifying daughter of Ares who could kill anyone with just one look, was blushing, actually blushing.
You never knew, But Clarisse La Rue, Secretly had a crush on you the moment you stepped inside Camp Half Blood.
——
After seeing you with those cursed gloves that her halfsiblings gave you, Clarisse's eyes went red with fury.
Clarisse gripped her half sibling, Jill's hair tightly, Almost pulling it out of her scalp, Jill was the one who asked the Hecate cabin to lend her some powder that can cause any parts of your body burn like hell, After knowing that. Clarisse had enough.
She pushed Jill to the wall, Her other half siblings cowering with fear, Clarisse pulled threw the gloves at Jill's face, No one saw clarisse THIS mad, If looks could kill, Jill would be 6 feet deep with maggots entering in and out of her skin.
"You did this? huh? Do you know how injured she could be if the poison in those cursed gloves you gave her spread? SHE COULD END UP DEAD." Screamed Clarisse. Jill was now crying, apologising profusely. The reason why she threw you into the lake is to prevent the poison from spreading.
Not even 30 minutes inside the ares cabin, Clarisse left with her little gang, Her halfsiblings bruised with purple marks and blood.
Clarisse never hated you, All the things she had ever done was to save you from those bullies.
Like that one time that she 'accidentally' bumped into you while you were holding a plate of blueberry cheesecake from the mess hall. Some brats from the Hephaestus cabin had the audacity to secretly add dead insects without you nothing, She made you fall so that you can't eat those nasty things, As you left the mess hall with a frown, she shot the hephaestus children with a glare that sent them away.
——
After that heated kiss, You got up and kissed clarisse again, with a wink, she gestured at the red flag, You smiled and grabbed the flag, Screaming in joy as you called the blue Team. For the first time, the red team watched, Horrified, as Clarisse stood in the middle of the battlefield, smiling widely as the blue team swayed the red team's flag.
But if they knew what really happened, they would definitely be in their right minds judging her.
Ms. Clarrise La Rue, The Paramour.
A paramour is a lover, and often a secret one you're not married to. So it's best not to kiss and make eyes at your paramour in public unless you want to be the centre of a lot of gossip.
A/N:
I DID MY BEST. I DO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS. THIS WAS REQUESTED BY SOMEONE, BUT I FORGOT WHO 😔🤞🤞🤞
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Boyfriend - matt sturniolo
creepy guy at a bar, matt pretends to be your boyfriend and flirting ensues
“Vodka cran for me and a whiskey sour for my friend,” I tell the bartender, looking around for said friend. My best friend and roommate was invited to this event tonight through her work, so of course I came along with her, but now she’s nowhere to be found. I pull out my phone not only to text her, but also so I can look occupied so nobody comes up to me.
wya
bathroom brb
I put my phone in my pocket as the bartender slides me the drinks and a check. I shoot him a quick smile, pay the tab, and pass it back to him. I grabbed the drinks and turned around, wanting to find a table where I can wait for her to return to me, but instead I’m met with a tall blonde guy smirking right down at me. He’s muscular, has piercing green eyes, and has to be at least 6’3. He towers over me, and I’m immediately intimated and slightly annoyed as I really had no intentions of talking to men tonight.
“Hey,” he smiles. “I’m Ben. I saw you from over there and wanted to introduce myself.”
“Uh huh…” I nod. I’m usually a very friendly person, but this has not been my week and I wanted nothing more than to not be talking to this man. “Well, nice to meet you Ben, but I really gotta get back to my friend.” I begin to shift to the left so I can make my way around him, but he moves to block me. I stare up at him, silently begging him to move.
“What, you can’t even give me a minute? Come on, just tell me your name,” he insists.
I sigh. “I’m good, thanks for asking though!” I soon realize that playing the sarcastic card was a mistake, as he starts to lean in, his arm blocking me from moving anywhere.
He’s about to open his mouth when I feel someone come up behind me and put his hand on my arm. I turn my head and am met with another guy who is basically the polar opposite of the man in front of me: brunette, blue eyes, fairly skinny, and probably about 5’8. Despite me saying I didn’t want to talk to men tonight, whoever this mystery man is is exactly my type. I couldn’t help but stare not only because he’s hot as fuck, but because I definitely recognize him from somewhere.
“Hey baby, sorry the line for the bathroom was crazy,” he says. “Who’s this?”
I pause for a moment, not realizing at first what was happening. “Um… sorry, what was your name again?” I ask the blonde.
“Ben,” he says, clearly pissed off that I didn’t remember. “And who’s this?” He gestures toward the brunette.
“I’m her boyfriend,” he gives him a big smile. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her but I got it from here.”
“You didn’t mention you had a boyfriend,” Ben says pointedly.
“Well when you’re busy trying to corner her it gets a little caught in your throat,” the brunette shoots back. “You’re done, thank you, bye bye now!”
Ben rolls his eyes and finally walks away in defeat. The brunette turns to me, his hand still on my arm. Now that I’m actually looking at him, I see that he is one of the most attractive people I think I’ve ever seen in my life.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, thank you,” I nod.
“Sorry if that was weird, you just looked really uncomfortable,” he says. “I was hoping that wasn’t actually a boyfriend because that would have made things worse…”
“No, no, I don’t. Um, I really appreciate that.”
He does a quick scan of the bar to make sure Ben wasn’t looking, then puts his hand out. “I’m Matt.”
I tell him my name and we begin to make small talk. When there’s a lull in the conversation, my curiosity gets the best of me.
“You know, I recognize you from somewhere, I feel like TikTok or something…”
“Oh yeah, my brothers and I are YouTubers.”
It all clicks in my head. “Oh right! Yeah, I think one of my friends showed me a video one time. And I definitely remember thinking, that guy in the driver’s seat is hot,” I smirk at him.
His cheeks get bright red, but he tries to play it cool. “Ohhh really? Or are you just saying that to flatter me?”
“No, no, definitely not, but if it’s working then…”
“Oh, it’s working.”
I smile. “I’ll have to check out some more of your videos so I can see more of you.”
“You could… or we could just hang out and you could see more of me in person.”
My heart nearly falls into my ass at that. I have never been great at flirting, but the conversation is just coming so easy with this guy that I can’t help myself. “Hmmm… I think I like that idea.”
“Good,” he smiles while pulling out his phone. “Give me your number and I’ll text you later.”
Once I give it to him and he slides his phone back into his pocket, he leans against the pillar behind him and crosses his arms. “It’s crazy how I was just telling my brother how lame this event is. Not so much anymore.”
“I was just telling my roommate the exact same thing. I’m glad I stayed.”
He pushes off the pillar and stands up straight again, closer towards me. “The attendees usually aren’t this pretty.”
Now it’s my turn to blush. “Ohhhh you think I’m prettyyyy?”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t already know.” He pauses for a second, then opens his mouth. “Let me buy you dinner tomorrow.” Before I get a chance to respond, his eyes get wide. “Uh oh, your boyfriend’s looking. How do we make it believable that I’m with you?”
I don’t know where all my confidence is coming from right now. Something about him is making me a completely different person. I sit in one of the bar stools so I reach his height more then wrap my arms around his neck. “Like this?” I ask innocently.
He’s clearly at a loss for words for a moment, then he regains his composure. “Yeah, no, uh… yeah, this works.” I start to play with his hair on the back of his neck to try to fluster him even more. “So,” he says, trying to play off the fact that he is staring straight at my cleavage, “where do you live? So I know where to pick you up tomorrow night?”
“We’re by The Grove, not too far from here. I’ll text you the full address,” I tell him.
“Oh perfect. We live right by here too, how convenient. Then I can see my girlfriend whenever,” he teases.
I nod in agreement. “Is he still looking?” I ask, referring to Ben.
He shrugs. “Don’t care. If I bothered looking at him then I wouldn’t get to look at you, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
I tilt my head and smile. “No, we definitely wouldn’t want that.”
He leans even closer, putting both his hands on the bar behind me. “So as my girlfriend,” he says, “I would assume you have a favorite tattoo of mine, right?” He put his arm out and rolled up his sleeve. “Which one would that be?”
I try to keep my composure as I look at the tattoos covering his arm. His forearms and hands are ridiculously veiny and I’m trying to keep the disgusting – but hot – thoughts running through my head at bay. “I like this one,” I say, tracing an anchor he has near his wrist. “Orrrr… this one.” My fingers run over one on his bicep, an owl with his wing covering a skull. He’s already insanely attractive, but his tattoos are making me legitimately sick to my stomach.
“Do you have any?” he asks.
“Yeah, I got a few.” I show him the ones on my arm. “I have one on my rib too, but you’ll have to see that one another time.” I look up at him through my eyelashes and smile sweetly.
He smirks. “Oh will I?”
“Mhm.”
“I have one on my chest,” he says, taking my hand and placing it on the left side of his chest.
“Am I gonna see that one too?” I ask.
“Yeah, I don’t have one there,” he says dryly. “Just wanted an excuse to have your hands on me.”
My jaw drops a little as I slide my hand up his chest slowly until it’s back on his neck. Our faces are inches apart. “Do you think it looks believable that we’re together?” he asks.
“I think so,” I shrug. “It could always look more believable, but I don’t know your thoughts on PDA, so…”
His face is moving closer. “Where are you going with that?”
“Where do you think I’m going with it?”
He responds by giving me a soft kiss on my cheek. “That’s all you get for now.”
I pout in response, then move back and place my elbows on the bar behind me. My chest is a straight shot from his face, and I can tell he’s having a hard time focusing. “So where should we get dinner?” I ask.
“Um… we can go to… um…”
“I’ve never been to um, what do they have there?” I mock.
“Shut up,” he lets out a little laugh. “Let’s go somewhere higher end so I can treat you.”
“Ohhh, you got the big YouTube bucks, huh?”
He shrugs. “Gotta stay humble. I’ll treat you on a few different dates and we can find out just how much YouTube can pay for.”
“That sounds good,” I run my hand lightly through the curls on his neck as I give him the world’s nastiest fuck me eyes.
He steps between my legs. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Why? I can’t look at my boyfriend like this?”
“Not with this many people around, no. Alone, though… well, we’re gonna be doing a lot more when we’re alone.”
I’m melting into a puddle in my seat. There’s no way this is happening. “I’m looking forward to it,” I reply, not breaking eye contact.
“I’ve gotta get back to my brothers,” he says in a near whisper. “I’ll text you, okay?”
I nod as he kisses my cheek one last time before he winks at me and walks away.
---------------------------------------------
pt 2 coming soon (probably)
#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo
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A-Mazing*
Summary: An extra for 404*
The one where you and Harry find yourselves lost in a corn maze together.
Word Count: 7.5k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, exhibitionism, size kink, Daddy kink, enemies dynamic, Harry being a little bitch 🫶
“Oh, absolutely not.”
Harry smirks as he turns to you, hands sliding into his hoodie pocket. “Gee, thanks.”
“No, I’m serious, I’m not getting stuck with you,” you argue, glancing toward the rest of the group that’s already heading inside the corn maze. “Seriously, please. Anybody else. I will take literally anybody else.”
“Well, you don’t get anybody else,” Harry snorts, much too smug for your liking. “You were late.”
“Yeah, and I was late because I was fixing your mistake,” you remind him. “It took me three hours to recode that sequence. And I’m still not finished—"
“Right, because it wasn’t a fucking mistake, Princess. The way I designed it was going to help it run three times more efficiently than the way Prescott suggested. And you just fucking undid it—"
“You weren’t asked to make it more efficient. You were told to do it the way the client wanted—”
“Well, the way the client wanted it was slow and stupid—”
“And you would be the authority on slow and stupid.”
Harry’s eyes narrow while his lips press into a thin line, looking quite incensed. “Very mature. Are we going in or what?”
“Fine,” you agree through a heavy exhale, shoving past him to head toward the entrance.
You have no idea why you even agreed to come in the first place. Sure, the idea of getting a few coworkers together for some fall fun was sweet, but truth be told, you don’t really care about any of these people outside of the office. You don’t care to see them, or get to know them, or hang out with them.
And the one person you do know happens to also be the one person you can’t stand.
Corn mazes are fun. Even pairing up to do them together is kind of exciting.
But with him? You’d rather get lost.
“All right, here’s your map,” the kind, older woman at the table says, handing you a piece of paper. “Answer the questions at each fork and follow the path according to your answer.”
You nod your understanding and offer a quick thank you before slipping past the tent and toward the beginning of the maze. The setting sun casts shadows across the field as you both make your way through the stocks.
You feel a sense of adventure as you make your way to the first checkpoint. Taking in the lingering scent of kettle corn somewhere off in the distance, and the excited chatter of the other people inside the maze. It’s exhilarating, and you feel a sense of purpose as you stride forward. Spurred on by a need to win – to do better than him.
And you hear Harry subtly huff from somewhere behind you, clearly annoyed with the way you’ve left him behind. “Real fucking mature,” he scoffs, and you can practically hear his eyes roll. “We’re supposed to be a team, Tinkerbell. You know, work together.”
“Well, I don’t want to be on a team with you,” you retort. “And we’ve never worked well together. As is evident by your complete lack of common sense and understanding of the system we’re trying to design.”
“Oh, this shit again—"
“Yes, this shit again. You’re costing us time and money by trying to prove you’re so much better than everyone else—”
“Well, I can’t exactly help it if I am, now, can I?”
You feel your expression fall as you spin on your heel to face him. “You’re fucking annoying, is what you are. It’s not my job to clean up after you. Okay, I’m not your mother, I’m not your babysitter. I am your equal. And it’s about fucking time you start treating me like it.”
Even in the dark, murky space, you can see a certain glimmer in his eye. One that challenges the frown on his face.
He studies you for a moment, eyes searching for a response. “Careful what you wish for, Princess.”
With that, he shoves past you and forges ahead into the maze. Leaving you to stare at his back with a glower.
You’re both silent as you approach the first fork, offering nothing more than looks of indignation and huffs of apathy as you raise your map and scan the question.
“What does WWW stand for in a website browser?” you read aloud before snorting. “World Wide Web. C.”
An easy question. You both know the answer, and there's no way he can argue with you.
So, instead, he says nothing. Merely glancing over the paper almost skeptically before heading toward the third row.
Pocketing the trivia questions, you chase after him. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? The silent treatment?”
Harry’s back stays to you as he slips between the stocks. “I’m not giving you the fucking silent treatment; I’m not twelve.”
“Then why aren’t you talking to me?”
“Because you’re a fucking brat.”
The vicious way he sneers the word sends a certain reaction down your spine, but you brush it away just as quickly as it appeared. “I thought I was your teammate.”
“You said it yourself, we’re not a team,” he retorts. “You’re not my babysitter, and you’re not my mother. Unless what you were really trying to say is that you want me to call you Mommy.”
You feel yourself hesitate, confused, and slightly startled by the suggestion. “Ew. Why would I want that?”
You see his shoulder lift and fall in a shrug. “I don’t know. You’ve always been a kinky little thing. Maybe it gets you off.”
“Oh, fuck you, I don’t have a mommy kink. Especially not with you.”
“Fine, a daddy kink then. Don’t think I forgot how eager you were to say it last time—”
“That was for you,” you hiss, once again glaring at his hooded back. “Okay, I was trying to see if you liked it, and you did—”
“Of course I did. It’s hot.”
“Sure, yeah. But I’m the kinky one?”
“I never said I wasn’t. I’m just saying, if you want me to call you mommy…all you have to do is ask.”
You come to the second fork, forcing the conversation to a halt as you feel your heart hammer in your chest. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”
“Fine.”
You unfold the map and search for the next question. “What is cynophobia?”
“Easy. Fear of cats.”
“That’s ailurophobia, you dipshit. Cynophobia is a fear of dogs.”
“Dipshit. Classy. No, that’s real nice, Tink. Very romantic.”
“Well, it’s true. Look it up.”
“Can’t,” he says calmly. Confidently. “There’s no service in here.”
“Oh, yeah? And how do you know?”
“Cause I’ve done this before. Many times.”
Your eyes narrow. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“…why?”
There’s a brief pause before he says, “She used to love it here.”
Your heart instantly drops into your toes, grimace untwisting as you glance toward the ground. “Oh.”
Another shrug. “Point is, I can’t look it up. So…pick whichever. I don’t care.”
Swallowing thickly, you gesture toward the second exit. “B. The answer is dogs. My brother used to have it when he was younger.”
And for the first time all evening, it’s Harry’s turn to look surprised as he nudges his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “You have a brother?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you learn that from my file?” you tease, and you notice his lips twitch up into a smirk.
“Not exactly.”
“Yeah, well…I don’t really talk about him. He doesn’t live here, he lives back home. After my dad left, he stuck around to take care of our mom.”
You see a flash of sympathy streak across his expression, but you’re brushing him off before he can comment.
“Anyway, it’s B,” you repeat, walking toward the middle row. “If you don’t believe me, then go your own way.”
For a moment, Harry hesitates, almost as though considering it. Then, he sighs, and begrudgingly follows your lead.
This time around, you’re both quiet. Listening to the sounds of everyone else further on in the maze laughing, or talking, or squealing with excitement.
A few scattered lamps help guide you through the dark labyrinth. You can see the wind move through the corn stocks. The way they rustle as they sway with the breeze, adding an element of eeriness to the already spooky scene.
Furthermore, the night air is beginning to grow cold. The fall chill nipping at your skin and reminding you once more that it’s no longer summer as you shiver and pull your jacket further around your body.
“Should have brought a real coat,” Harry comments, almost haughtily, and it makes your eyes roll. “It’s October, Princess. Can’t wear booty shorts and flip flops anymore.”
Despite the fact that you’re wearing neither of those, you still feel the need to scoff, “Well, of course it’s not cold to you. You’re already dead inside.”
“Ooo, ouch. You got me. Sick burn, Tink. Real sick.”
His flippant response makes your skin crawl. “You are so fucking annoying, do you know that?”
“And you’re a fucking brat, do you know that?”
“I’m not a brat, I’m just right.”
“Sure. Whatever you say.”
“Yeah, it is whatever I say, actually. I’m the one with the fucking map.”
To prove your point, you wave the paper in the air before stopping beside the next checkpoint.
“What are the names of the four women on the show, The Golden Girls?” you read, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Uh…I know Rose is one of them.”
“And Betty White,” Harry adds.
“No, her character. Not her,” you huff. “And I’m pretty sure Betty played Rose, so that’s only one.”
“Well, excuse me for trying to help,” he scoffs before glancing over the multiple-choice answers. “Then it’s probably A or C. Those are the only ones with Rose in them.”
“Well, we have to pick one. Okay, we can’t do both—”
“Yes, I fucking know that, Tinkerbell. I’m just narrowing it down—”
“Well, maybe be less condescending about it.”
“Fine,” he nearly snaps, angrily stabbing at the map with his finger. “A. Dorothy, Rose, Blanch, and Samantha.”
“No, that doesn’t sound right. I don’t think they had a Samantha. It was…it was something else. Either Sophia or Sarah.”
“Well, you have to pick one. You can’t have both,” he repeats mockingly, and you begin to glare. “Besides, statistically, it’s more likely they switch up the letters with each guess. We’ve already done B and C. Next should be A.”
“Really? That’s your reasoning?”
“That’s my reasoning. Take it or leave it.”
And you don’t like it. You don’t feel convinced by it. But you decide – just this once – to put your faith in his incessant need to be right. To trust him and his judgment.
You nod once. A curt gesture of good will as he sighs gratefully and takes off toward the first row.
An eerie feeling follows you as you trail behind. Perhaps an ominous warning to turn around. That something is about to go wrong.
At first, you shake it away. Equating it with your distaste for the man before you.
But soon…you see the real reason why.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you groan when you’re both forced to a stop by a dead end. “See? What did I tell you?”
“Fuck off, you didn’t tell me shit, Princess. It’s a dead end, not death,” he huffs. “We’ll turn around and try again.”
“Can we? We passed like two other rows and now I can’t remember which way we came.”
“Well, that’s not my fault.”
“Oh, bite me, Harold.”
“Just tell me where.”
You feel your heart race beneath your chest. Spurred on by adrenaline, slight fear, and the brisk cold air. “Can you please stop being so infuriating?”
“Can you please stop being such a bitch?” he replies cooly before his eyes flick down toward your shivering frame. “You’re shaking.”
“Yes, I know,” you grit through clenched, chattering teeth. “It’s cold. And don’t you dare make another joke about flip flops. I don’t have the energy to slap you.”
That arrogant smirk returns. “Cute. Told you, you should have brought a coat.”
“Well, I didn’t,” you hiss. “So can we please just get the fuck out of here before I freeze to death?”
Harry’s eyes roll, but you notice his grin grow as he sighs and lifts a hand toward the collar of his hoodie.
In one fluid motion, he’s slipping the sweatshirt up his torso and over his head to hand to you. Dangling the dark fabric between your bodies as you stare at it incredulously.
“Take it,” he grumbles, waving the material in your direction. “And don’t fucking say I’m never nice to you.”
Stunned, you blink quickly. “What…are you doing?”
“Just put it on,” he huffs, gesturing toward you again. “Cause, if you die out here, I’m not dragging your body back.”
Your eyelids narrow into small slits while you cautiously reach for the hoodie. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Once you’ve taken it, he uses his knuckle to shove his glasses back into position. “Like you said, I can’t get cold. I’m dead inside.”
You smile at this before pulling the cozy jacket over your head. It smells…good. It smells like him. Radiating heat and the faint scent of his cologne.
Truth be told, it feels like a warm hug. Something you can’t imagine Harry ever giving you on his own. And a part of you feels…relieved. Relaxed and almost…enamored. Perhaps even grateful.
“Thanks,” you murmur, snuggling against the fabric before slipping your hands into the pocket. “You didn’t…have to. I know being nice isn’t your thing.”
He snorts, turning now toward the tall lookout platform just beside the dead end. “Whatever. Maybe we should go up and see if we can see the exit.”
“Okay.”
With that, he turns toward the stairs and begins the trek up. You rush after him, trying hard to see the steps without much light, and thankfully making it to the top in one piece as you begin to look around.
It’s beautiful. Absolutely stunning, the design lit up by the soft glow of the moon. An almost romantic touch, although you shake the thought away. You can see a few groups spread out throughout the rest of the maze, but most of them are already making their way out. Having figured out the riddles much quicker than the two have seemed to.
You pout. “Nuts.”
“Yeah,” he agrees in a low grumble. “Okay, we’ll…we’ll turn around. Maybe you were right. Maybe it was C. We can try that next.”
It’s strange to hear him admit you could have been correct, and you can’t help but smirk as you nod. “Okay.”
You follow Harry down the other side, focusing your attention on your footing as you take each step one at a time.
But once you’re toward the bottom, your tennis shoe suddenly catches on a rogue nail, and you begin to stumble. Body falling forward before you can even reach for the railing.
Instantly, Harry – who’s already made it back to the ground – reaches out for your arms, slipping his hands beneath your elbows to help steady you and catch you just in the nick of time. Sparing you from a rather embarrassing fall.
You gasp as you’re flung forward, allowing yourself to settle in his embrace for support while you work on your balance and place your feet back where they need to be.
And once you’re sure you’re sturdy, you take a deep breath, and straighten up.
“Shit,” you whisper, lashes fluttering from the rush of adrenaline, and the feel of his touch. “I hate these shoes.”
You expect a snarky quip, but instead, you see his expression twist from behind his glasses as he glances over your face. Hands still glued to your arms. “Are you all right?”
A bit stunned by the soft and rather gentle tone of voice, you nod once. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m…sorry. I should have been looking.”
He seems confused by your apology but chooses to ignore it, instead watching you closely as if monitoring your reaction. “If you wanted me to hold you, Tinkerbell, you could have just said so.”
Despite yourself, you laugh, cheeks growing warm as you push yourself out of his arms. “Fuck off.”
“Fuck off? Or fuck me?”
“Ha. Very funny.”
“Maybe I’m not being funny,” he argues. “Maybe I mean it.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really.”
You snort. “Harry, come on. This would be the last place to fuck.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah, why. What’s wrong with it? It’s dark. Secluded. There’s the element of getting caught, which I know you like.”
“Harry,” you repeat, almost doubtfully. “We…there’s no place to even do it. It’s way too exposed, and cold, and dangerous. We’d be better off just fucking in my car.”
“If we can even find our way back to your car,” he retorts teasingly. “Besides, I thought you liked danger.”
You gaze at him with suspicion, feeling that odd racing return to your chest. “You’re not being serious, are you?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe. I wasn’t at first, but…it’s not a bad idea.”
“Please. You can’t be that horny that you have to fuck me every time we see each other.”
“Okay, well, I’m not and I don’t,” he scoffs. “It’s just…different.”
“Oh, really? Why?”
Another shrug, but this time, he’s stepping closer. Those soft, green eyes dancing down your body as if drinking you in. Indulging in the sight of you. “I don’t know,” he repeats, a bit quieter. Thicker. “There’s just…something about you, in my clothes. It’s…it’s good. You look good.”
The look in his eye is primal. Breeding a new sense of desire deep within the pit of your stomach. You shift under his lustful gaze, fingers curling into your fist from inside the pocket.
“Thanks, I guess,” you manage to say, noticing the way he continues to move closer. “It is comfy.”
“Good,” he mumbles, still studying your stance before dragging his attention back up to your face. “And you’re warm?”
“Getting there.”
A short nod. “You know…there are other ways of heating you up.”
The sneaky remarks are back, and even though you can feel your legs squeezing together from the suggestive tone of voice, you grin. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” He finally reaches you, fingers outstretching for the front of his hoodie. Moving up your chest almost innocently before slipping around the back of your neck. “Want me to keep you warm, Tink?”
And you want to tease him a little longer, make him wait. Suffer.
But he’s too good. He’s always been too good at catching you off guard and luring you into submission. The way he speaks, the way he looks at you, the way he pulls you closer with the palm of his hand. You can practically taste him. Can smell him everywhere. Feel him in places he’s not even touching you.
And you need it. You need him, you want him. Right now, more than anything.
“Yes,” you exhale, almost shakily. “Yes, please—”
He surges forward, lips connecting with yours almost violently. Stealing the rest of your plea before you can make it.
You can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but whimper as he sucks on your tongue and presses his fingers harder against your head. Trapping you against his mouth until you feel dizzy.
And he’s so warm. A stark contrast to the brisk, autumn air. And he’s soft in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Inviting. As though he’s been waiting his whole life to lay his mouth to yours.
“Har—” you gasp when he pulls back to nip at your bottom lip. “Har, please—”
You sound deranged. Wounded, almost, and so goddamn pitiful. You’re tugging on his shirt, trying to yank him impossibly closer. Tilting to the left for a deeper angle and raising up onto your toes in order to taste him fully.
“Easy,” he whispers, and it’s so very strained. Like he’s using what little strength he still has to speak to you. “Easy, Princess. S’okay, I’ve got you.”
It’s possessive the way he talks to you. Commanding you to listen. Insisting that your pleasure is his. That your wellbeing is in his hands.
He’s not a caring man by nature. At least not to you. But in moments like this, his dominance takes control. Turning him into a desperate man eager to care for you. To protect you and keep you safe.
Perhaps it’s a more caveman mindset. The idea that he needs to look after you. That you’re his to keep and care for.
But right now…you adore it. Feel safe in the idea of submitting to him.
“Please,” you try again, breathless and desperate as you cling to his strong frame and beg him for something only he can give you. “Harry, please…hurts.”
There’s a teasing glimmer in his eye, brightened by the reflection of his glasses. ���Yeah? Is it achy, Tink?”
You nod quickly, grabbing onto his other hand to slide it down your stomach. Right toward where you need him most.
And he lets himself be moved, watching with intrigue at the way his fingers are dragged toward your thighs. Smirking rather sadistically while pressing his palm against your pussy with fervor.
You whine at the subtle friction, already attempting to grind down against the heel of his hand as he meets your pace with soft strokes of his own.
“There you go,” he murmurs, watching your hips before returning his attention to your face. “Feels good, baby, yeah? Like to use me, don’t you?”
Another quick nod, and you sigh contently when he presses his lips to your cheek. Placing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck.
“Har,” you try again, nuzzling closer. “Har, they’re…they’re gonna see. Can’t…can’t do it here—”
“Yes we can,” he replies calmly. And the soft, secure tone of voice instantly turns your insides to jelly. “Promise I won’t let them see, okay? Gonna keep you to myself.”
He removes his hand from your pussy to place it on your hip. Guiding you back until you feel your body connect with something hard. You glance around just long enough to find that it’s the wooden frame of the lookout. And he keeps you trapped there as he hides you both beneath the structure, tucking you away from any prying eyes that might pass.
“There,” he says, grinning to himself at the eager look on your face. “Now Daddy can see just how wet you really are, hm?”
You can tell he’s using the nickname sparingly. Tentative of your reaction as he waits to see how you might feel about it.
And truthfully, you hadn’t anticipated liking it as much as you do. Especially in this moment, when he’s giving you everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s like music to your ears, orgasmic just to listen to.
You swallow thickly and nudge your nose against his cheek. “Yes, Daddy.”
He tenses beneath your touch, cursing against the shell of your ear before he whispers, “Show me.”
He returns his hand to yours, allowing your fingers to interlock as you shakily guide him toward your jeans.
After a bit of maneuvering, you get the zipper down, and help slip his hand inside your underwear. Straight down to your cunt as his fingers glide through your folds until he can find what he’s looking for.
“Oh, Tink,” he coos almost sympathetically. Stroking your pussy as you move to grip his wrist excitedly. “S’all wet, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Daddy,” you mumble, leaning your head back against the wooden board for stability. “Hurts.”
“I bet,” he tsks, sliding his middle finger toward your hole. Circling it once before glancing over your expression. “Need something to fill you up, hm? Get you warm again?”
You hum your agreement, tugging his touch further into you as he chuckles and steps closer. “Please…”
“What, baby? What do you need?”
You whimper again and roll your hips against his fingers. Needing the friction of his thumb against your clit which he refuses to give you.
“What do you want, hm?” he mumbles, dipping down to ghost his lips across yours. “Just ask…and Daddy will give you anything you want.”
And in this moment, you know he means it.
“Want you…to fuck me,” you exhale, reaching now for the curls lying against the back of his neck. “Please, Har. Need you to fuck me. Make it better. Make it go away.”
“Is that right?” He slips a finger inside, and you feel your insides twist as you gasp and squirm against the pleasurable touch. “Need something bigger, yeah?”
“Yes…yeah. Please. Please, Daddy.”
He smiles again before slipping his hand from inside your jeans to help tug them down your legs. Yanking almost furiously until they’re settled near your ankles. Allowing him just enough room to slip between.
And once your cunt is on display for him, he stares at it with a certain mesmerized admiration. Allowing himself to enjoy you before he reaches for his own belt and tugs it free.
Once he’s managed to pull his cock out, he reaches again for your hips. Squeezing them once before turning you around.
His arm slips around your middle to keep you secure and you grin lazily as you rest yourself against his chest.
“Gonna hold you, just like this,” he whispers against your cheek, and you feel the tip of his cock trailing against the curve of your ass. “Keep you warm.”
The hand against your ribcage is gentle. Keeping you steady as he attempts to hold you close.
“Deep breath, Tink, okay?” he instructs next, nudging the crown against your dripping hole. Warning you of his next step. “Know it’s a lot, but you always take me so well, don’t you? Gonna take me again?”
You grab onto his arm, nails scraping down his skin as you whine, “Yes. Yes, I’ll take you. Just need it, Har, please—"
“Okay, all right,” he shushes, nudging his cheek against your temple. “Need you to relax, okay? Are you relaxed, baby?”
And you think you are. Mentally, anyway. You’ve never felt so comfortable in someone’s arms. Under their influence and control. Even despite the cold air nipping at your thighs and the outside threat of getting caught, you feel at ease. Adrenaline coursing through your veins as the sounds of people somewhere else in the maze float toward you. Reminding you of where you are. What could happen.
“Tink,” he warns, sliding his cock through your folds in wait. “I need you to relax for me, okay? I really don’t want to hurt you.”
“No?” you manage to retort, and you catch his smile out of your peripheral. “Thought you liked to hurt me.”
“I do,” he agrees, lips following the shell of your ear. “But not like this. Don’t wanna split you in half.”
“Maybe I want you to,” you breathe, reaching back for his neck. “Maybe I need it, Daddy.”
He chuckles almost darkly before pressing his mouth against your heated skin. “I’ll remember that.”
With that, he drops his hand down to your cunt, circling his fingers around your clit until he feels your body unwind. Allowing him just enough room to begin pushing his cock in.
“There you go,” he sighs, both of you groaning when you feel how easily he slips in. “So fucking good. Take me so well, don’t you? Always do, I know. Relax, baby. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
The burn is almost overwhelming. Demanding your focus and attention as you feel him stretch you open, forcing your walls to accommodate his size.
“Hey,” you hear him murmur, his palm coming up to cup your jaw. Thumb sweeping across your parted lips. “Are you breathing? Gotta breathe, Tink, come on. You know better—”
“I know,” you gasp, sucking in a greedy gasp for air before you suck in his finger. “I know, Daddy, m’sorry.”
He hums his approval before allowing himself to sit inside your warm mouth. “It’s okay, know it feels good, hm?”
“Mhm,” you agree around the large digit, allowing your tongue to settle him on your tastebuds. “More.”
“More?” he repeats, using his other hand to squeeze your hip. “Want more, greedy girl?”
“Please…”
“Please," he echoes thoughtfully. "Greedy Girl has manners, how precious.”
There’s a slight air of condescension and teasing to his response, and you feel yourself flutter around his length.
His grin grows. “You like that, baby?”
You manage one more weak nod as you press yourself against his body, squirming in his hold while his cock pushes in to the hilt.
“There,” he exhales, groaning some before falling still. Allowing your body to adjust to his size. “You okay?”
“Yes…yes, m’okay. Please move, please…please, Daddy—”
“Okay, all right,” he agrees coarsely, readjusting his stance before returning his arm to your stomach. Just beneath your chest. “Need you to be good, okay? Just listen to Daddy’s voice and do what I say.”
“I will. I will, I promise.”
“Good.” He begins to pull back. Dragging his cock through your quivering hole as you moan his name.
But such a loud noise isn’t quite what he had in mind, his other palm reaching up to smack across your mouth to silence you.
“Uh-uh,” he grunts, pausing the rhythm of his hips until he’s sure you’ll obey. “None of that. M’keeping you for myself, remember? Can’t let them know.”
You make an incoherent noise against his hand before writhing back against his cock. Needing more friction and movement that he refuses to give you.
“Unless that’s what you want, Greedy Girl,” he whispers into your neck. “Want them to see what I do to you. The way I make you fall apart…the way you beg for my cock. Even when you hate me.”
The idea sends a shiver down your spine as you groan his name and claw at his wrist.
“Is that what you want?” he murmurs between sharp thrusts. “S’it why you keep this pretty pussy so nice and tight for me? Cause you want them to know that it’s only me? That everything…everything…you do is because of me?”
Your eyes roll back, either from annoyance or pleasure. But it’s blissful, this feeling. This hard fuck, this angry connection.
And yet, this infuriating man is oddly tender with you. Holding you close and helping you find your release, despite the way he goads you.
“Do you, Tink?” he asks again. “Do you want Lucas to see? Want them all to fucking see what you do to me?”
His nails are scraping down your ribcage, pulling you taut against his chest as he drives his cock as deep as it’ll go. Hips meeting your ass as he releases your mouth to hold onto you again, keeping you still.
“Tell me,” he says between deep breaths. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you only cum for me—”
“Har—”
“My greedy little whore. My dirty fucking princess.” His tone is angry. Dissolving into something feral as he begins to pound into you with a harder force. Nearly knocking the wind from your lungs. “Not his. Mine. Always mine—”
“Yours,” you repeat between soft whines. “Yours, Harry, you know that—”
“Yeah?” He holds you tighter, allowing you no room to squirm as he nears his release. His pace becomes faster and sloppier the closer he gets. Allowing your warmth to soak him, draw him in. Using you as nothing more than a toy. A means to his end. “Then prove it.”
Even without much extra stimulation, you can feel yourself getting closer to the brink. Harry has always had this innate ability to get you there without much more than a few pumps of his cock. Perhaps it’s his size or his technique. The way he knows exactly where to thrust in order to hit the right spot and make you see stars.
And maybe there’s a part of you – albeit small – that enjoys the idea of being good for him. Of coming on his cock (or his tongue or his fingers) just so he can watch. So he can feel what he does to you.
Maybe…you just want to be good for him. At least in moments like this. To know that you’ve earned his approval, his praise. That such a brilliant man has devoted his time and attention and body just to you.
That you’re worthy of his time.
Worthy of him.
It’s almost degrading to think about and yet…it makes you clench. Pussy clamping down on his beautifully thick cock until he groans and nuzzles his nose against your neck.
“Shit,” he hisses, rhythm stuttering as a shot of pleasure rolls through him. “Tink, if you’re gonna do that, I’m gonna cum.”
“Good,” you answer instantaneously. “Want you to. Need you to, Daddy, please—”
“No,” he huffs, and he stills for only a moment as if attempting to refrain from falling apart. “No, need you to cum first. Daddy needs to feel you cum first, okay? Come on, baby, gotta give it to me—”
You mewl helplessly, drowning out the rest of his instruction. You’re close, and you know it won’t be much longer until it overwhelms you.
And there’s some part of you that feels…disappointed. Saddened by the idea of things going back to how they normally are. That he’ll take himself from you – take his cock from you – and return to the maddening man you can hardly tolerate.
Maybe subconsciously, you try to hold off. Keep your orgasm at bay so you can keep him just a little longer. So you can appreciate the caring man behind you and the way he’s so desperate to put you first.
He’s quite wonderful when he’s not being an ass.
“Tink,” he grunts, hand moving up toward your jaw. You feel his palm press to your throat, and you swallow thickly against his skin. “Baby, I want you to cum. Wanna feel you. What do you need? Hm? Wanna play with your pretty button for me?”
You nod pitifully and allow your own fingers to move down toward your cunt. It’s wet and achy and swollen so much it almost hurts to touch. But you release a strained breath, nevertheless, appreciating the sting of overstimulation as you writhe in his hold.
You can feel your body beginning to overheat the closer you get. Helping warm you up from the October chill still biting at your skin. And the sounds of your friends aren’t far behind. Perhaps looking for you, waiting for you both to exit the maze and continue on with your evening.
But you don’t give a damn about anybody else right now. Just him.
Something you never thought you’d say.
“Getting closer, yeah?” he hums against your ear, fingers tightening around your neck. “I know. Fucking shaking, baby, you’re okay. I got you. Just let it happen, let go.”
There’s something about his voice. About the feel of his glasses against your temple. About the way he makes you feel safe and secure. The way he effortlessly brings you to the edge and promises to catch you when you fall.
You know he hates you. And yet you also know that despite this loathing you share, you’re still his priority. That he’ll put your pleasure first, no matter what. That he wants to be good.
“Har,” you whimper through a high-pitched whine. “Shit, please—”
“You close? Gonna give it to me? Make Daddy happy?”
The reminder of the nickname makes you moan, a bit softer than before, but still rather lewd. And Harry tsks from behind you, once again sliding his palm up to your mouth.
“Dirty fucking princess,” he grits before he’s suddenly slamming himself into you. “Can’t ever do what she’s told, hm? Just loves to disobey me. Wants to get caught. Wants to be my greedy little girl—”
My greedy little girl.
That’s what does it for you. His possession, his mark, his claim. Reducing you to nothing more than this thing he uses for his pleasure. An object to be had.
In any other moment, you’d chastise him for it.
Right now, it’s everything you need to hear.
You cum on his cock without much choice. Pleasure unfurling like the petals of a flower in spring. For a moment, the overpowering sensation is all you can comprehend. Just ecstasy, a weightless euphoria. Lifting you up and dropping you back down.
He curses when he feels it, offering you quick murmurs of praise before he’s grabbing onto your hips with both hands and yanking you back. Using this leverage to drive his cock in in sharp thrusts before he’s following. Releasing himself into you with a groan as you gasp and grab onto one of the beams for support.
Thirty seconds pass of heavy breathing and lingering whimpers before you both fall quiet, chests heaving and legs still shaking.
He doesn’t pull out for at least a moment or two, merely holding onto your waist as he works to gather himself together.
“Shit,” he finally whispers, and you feel the subtle stroking of his thumb against your tender skin. Right over the bruises you’re sure to find tomorrow. “You okay?”
“Mhm,” you hum weakly, nodding once. “Really good, actually.”
“Yeah? Good. You needed it.”
You feel your lips pull back into a smile. “Oh, did I?”
“You really did.”
“Right. Even though you’re the one that fucks me every time you see me.”
You hear him scoff as he finally – and slowly – pulls out. Allowing your muscles to unwind as you release a deep breath. “I’m doing you a favor,” is his reply. And it’s laced with a condescension and haughtiness that you know all too well.
“Oh, is that what you’re doing?”
“Yes.” He tucks himself back into his briefs before crouching down to reach for your jeans. Pulling them back up your legs with a strange amount of care, despite his snarky attitude. “I do a lot of favors for you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
You turn around while he steps back and readjusts his glasses. “Was getting us lost one of those favors?”
A strange, almost sadistic kind of grin begins to stretch across his face. “Maybe.”
You hesitate. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs once before backing out of the lookout as you rezip your jeans. “It means…maybe I knew this was the wrong way.”
“…I’m sorry?”
His hands shove into his pockets while his sly smile seems to mirror his satisfaction. “I just figured it wouldn’t hurt to do some…exploring.”
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” you nearly gasp, striding after him so you can swat your hand across his chest. “Are you fucking serious? You got us lost on purpose?”
“We were never lost, Tinkerbell. I knew exactly where we were."
"Yeah? And where are we?"
"Taking a detour."
“I cannot believe you,” you murmur, staring at him rather incredulously. “God, you are so fucking horny, it’s insane.”
“Oh, relax,” he snorts. “I didn’t take you back here to fuck you. I just thought you’d wanna see the top of the maze.”
“And you couldn’t have just asked?”
“Would you have agreed?”
You consider this. “…all right, maybe not. But you’re still a fucking ass.”
“Yeah,” he agrees coyly. “I know.”
You keep your stern glare, but your grin is playful. “Whatever. Does this mean you know the way out?”
“I do,” he says. “There’s a shortcut. Cassie and I used to cheat and use it all the time.”
The revelation of her name makes your breath catch. You hadn’t expected him to reveal something so personal, and there’s a part of you that isn’t quite sure what to do with it.
You can tell he hasn’t realized his slip, because he’s still smiling at you like he’s waiting for you to get the joke. To laugh with him.
But there’s something else in his eye – something beautiful and reminiscent. Excited. Like the mere mention of her name has calmed him. Reminded him of a better time. A happier place.
Reminded him of someone who isn’t you.
“I see,” you manage, choking the words out as you glance toward the dirt beneath your sneakers. Avoiding his eye. “Well…great. Get me the hell out of here, please.”
He studies you for a moment. You can feel his eyes boring into your profile, as though attempting to work out just what changed in your demeanor.
Then, he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and says, “Yeah. This way.”
With that, he maneuvers back through the large stocks of corn and leads you through the intricate labyrinth. Weaving his way along the path and bypassing each checkpoint with ease, almost as if he’s done this a hundred times.
You imagine he has.
You reach the exit in only a few minutes, and relief washes over you as you catch sight of your car in the distance. Your means of escape and your excuse to leave him behind.
“Thank God,” you mumble as you both slip out from the corn and back into the light. “That was…excruciating.”
“Oh, was it?” he teases. “Really? All of it?”
“Yes, all of it,” you snort, but you feel rather amused as you glance over his expression. “Let’s never get stuck in a corn maze together again, agreed?”
“Agreed,” he replies, but there’s a certain playful glimmer in his eye. “We can just fuck the old-fashioned way. In your car.”
“Gee, great.”
You both fall silent as your quippy remarks die down. Looking at each other like you’re waiting for someone to break the spell. To return you both to your anger and your rivalry. To poke fun at the few moments of intimacy and understanding you shared and release you from this strange yearning.
You decide to be the first, clearing your throat as quietly as you can while reaching for the collar of the hoodie to slip it off. “Uh, well…thanks again. For letting me borrow this.”
He blinks, momentarily puzzled – or perhaps…disappointed? – as he watches you pull it from your body. “Yeah. No problem. Just bring a fucking coat next time.”
“There won’t be a next time, remember?” you retort, tossing it over.
He catches it with one hand, and smiles. “Right. And thank God for that.”
“Exactly.”
Another lull, the two of you continuing to stand in the dimly lit parking lot as you wait for him to say goodbye.
And suddenly, you realize…you don’t want to go. You don’t want to say goodbye. That you feel…safer when he’s around. More relaxed and at ease. Even when you’re griping with him or resisting the urge to put his head through a wall, he’s still…comforting. A forceful and reassuring presence that you otherwise feel lost without.
Because you remember who he was before…Cassie. You remember his kindness and his ability to make you laugh.
And you know that he’s still that person. He’s still trying to take care of the people he feels closest to, even when he doesn’t mean to. Even when he doesn’t realize.
You know why he pushed you away. You know why he’s created such a vast, unyielding distance. And you can’t exactly blame him.
But the version of him that automatically thinks to care for you…that’s the version you’re drawn to. That’s the version you don’t want to say goodbye to.
“What?” he asks, grinning again as his head cocks. Seeming to notice the shift in your expression. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
You hesitate, lashes fluttering as you work out a response. Wondering just how much you can share…and how much of it is real. “Nothing, I…this was just…”
He waits, brow raised.
Your lips clamp. “Nothing. I’m just thinking about all the fucking work I have to do when I go in tomorrow, thanks to you.”
And you can see he’s unconvinced, eyes flicking between yours as if looking for the real answer. But he waits a beat before his smile fades and he asks, “Why did you really come tonight?”
A bit caught off-guard by the question, you blink. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you could have partnered with anyone else. If you really wanted,” he explains, slowly stepping closer. Forcing a hitch in your throat. “Could have left me behind. Gone ahead. But you didn’t. Why?”
And there it is. That hint – that almost undetectable trace – of vulnerability behind the usual arrogance. He’s giving you the chance, offering you an opportunity for truth.
And maybe you want to take it. Maybe you want to confess and unburden yourself of this weight that’s settled on your shoulders.
The truth teases the tip of your tongue, laden with consequences.
But just before you can offer him the real answer, there’s a distant laugh from one of the groups back in the maze. Interrupting the moment and stealing what little courage you had left.
Your lashes flutter quickly as if shaking yourself from a daze, and you step back. Forcing distance between your bodies in an attempt to find clarity.
Harry watches you go, expression hard and etched with frustration, while you swallow thickly and spin on your heel.
He doesn’t call after you as you race to your car. Doesn’t insist on an answer or try to make you stay.
He merely stands there beneath the warm hue of the streetlamp, allowing you to run away, and disappear into your car before fleeing the scene.
Leaving him behind.
Previous Part:
~ Always*
~ 404 Masterlist
~ Freaky Fun Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
~ Blurb Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave @princessprongs @nuggetdean @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs
#harry#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan#harry styles smut#harry edward styles#smut#harry styles fanfic#harry styles one shot#harry styles concept#enemies to lovers!harry#404 harry#harry and tink#freaky fun#concept#corn maze#nerd!harry
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Abusive boyfriend, please help me leave
I've finally come to the point of being able to say it, but it's still a very painful and confusing thing to say so please don't say hurtful things. Last summer my boyfriend assaulted me (in you know which way), after I came out as trans to him. Since then, it's almost like a switch flipped in him and he's been treating me horribly. I constantly feel like I'm going insane, and the pain is unbearable. I know I should've left much earlier but I was (and am) heavily traumatized and couldn't think or act rationally at all. Things changed very suddenly and it's still very hard to believe what's happening. But I've finally come to the point of realizing that I need to leave and seek safety from this person.
Unfortunately I've become financially dependent on him after the assault and he's forbidden me from finding a new job, which is why I haven't. I'm just afraid. Even doing this behind his back is making me feel super paranoid. I don't know what he's capable of and I don't want to go through some things again... My goal is to secretly move to another city and find a job there, but I don't have anyone to help me with this, and I know it's a big thing to ask of strangers, but if anyone would be willing to help me it would mean everything to me. You can donate here if you'd like, and thank you so much:
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How You Get The Girl
Alexia putellas x fem!reader
(Featuring Alexia in denial and Mapi’s devil antics)
This was not how Alexia was expecting her weekend to go.
She was supposed to be having a weekend trip to Mallorca with her closest long-time friend, Jenni. As much as it pained Alexia to leave her 4 legged companion behind, she knew she would also have an even harder time leaving her at a hotel when her and Jenni went to some bars, as Jenni said ‘to find someone to spice up her life a bit’.
Mapi was definitely not her first choice on who to leave Nala with, however with most of the team using their break to travel back to their families, it left only Mapi and Ingrid to look after her Pomeranian.
However, after receiving a frantic phone call from Mapi, with the few words she managed to make out due to the defender’s worry laced voice being: Nala, Cake, Vets.
———————————————————————
Alexia rushed onto the next flight and was at the vets in around 2 hours, to find Mapi still in the waiting room clutching her beloved dog, and Alexia was quick to snatch Nala from her.
It took everything in Alexia’s power to not start cursing Mapi out for her carelessness, but as she gave in and threw a snide remark at the defender, it was interupted by the receptionist.
“Nala is ready to be seen”
Alexia rushed to the door with Nala in her arms, and Mapi trailing behind. They were shown into the room, and Alexia walked straight into someone quite a bit shorter than her, this combined with the fact she is a professional footballer who keeps on top of her strength training resulted in her basically knocking this person over.
“¡Lo siento, lo siento!”, She said whilst keeping her eyes on Nala to check she wasnt hurt even more by her collision.
As Alexia looked up at the person she had crashed into, she was met with arguably the most beautiful women she had ever seen. Only to be met with a shove from her best friend, was when Alexia realised she had been staring.
“Alexia stop ogling the poor woman and apologise”
“I did!” countered the midfielder.
“Maybe in English would be smarter? So that she actually understands you!”
At the realisation that you had absolutely no idea what ‘lo siento’ meant, Alexia’s cheeks flushed crimson red, which recieved one of Mapi’s infamous snorts of laughter behind her.
Alexia honestly had no idea what was happening to her. She knows that your pretty, but she had seen other pretty girls before, why did you make her feel like this?
“Hello, I will be Nala’s vet for today, i will just go grab her records from reception, wont be a minute!” you said with a soft smile.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, Mapi burst iut laughing.
“Ale, as much as i love you, you were embarrassing there! If this is how you act around girls, no wonder you have never had a serious relationship”
“Shut up! I am not attracted to her, she makes me feel like i want to throw up!”
“Honey, thats called butterflies in your stomach! pretty cliché if you ask me, but I didnt realise you were such a romantic!” Mapi retorted, still laughing.
“I’m not a romantic. I’m not into her. I just want her to treat my dog, and then i can go play football after”
“Wait until i tell the team about this! The scary la reina, reduced to a blushing mess by a cute vet who she body slammed and then spent a minute ogling her, all because she has a little crush”
Before Alexia could respond with a threat of using her captain title to punish Mapi with tunning laps, the door clicked open to reveal you rushing back in.
Nala, who usually was very timid and barked at anyone who got near her, immediately jumped off of Alexia’s lap and ran straight up to you and jumped at your legs, to which you responded by picking her up and gushing over the cute little ball of fluff.
Alexia knew that if she wasnt already sat down her knees would have buckled at the sight of her dog basically confirming the fact that you were perfect for her. As Alexia contined to daydream about you, she was interupted by a hand clicking in her face, to which she turned to glare at Mapi’s toothy grin.
“Te distrajiste, el lindo vert estaba tratando de preguntarte sobre Nala. (You zoned out, the cute vet was trying to ask you about Nala)” Mapi said with a knowing smirk.
“¡Callarse la boca! y deja de llamarla linda. (Shut up! and stop calling her cute”
“¿Celosa? (jealous?)”
“Nunca. (never)”
However, when the two spaniards turned to face you, they were met by your dumbfounded face trying to decipher a word of what they just said. Although you had been taking Spanish classes since you moved to Spain, both Alexia and Mapi spoke the languge with too heavy of an accent and too fast for you to understand.
“So you filled out your form saying Nala ate a full chocolate cake?” You asked.
“¡Si! Yes! Will she be okay?” Alexia responded worriedly.
“Honestly this happens a lot, and there is no point her having ang unnecessary procedures, so we usually reccomend her take these tablets twice a day for a week and if you notice any unusual behaviour, bring her back here. I will write you a prescription for it now!”
“Ah okay thankyou, do I scedule an appointment for after she finishes the pills for a checkup?”
“No, the pills are enough, no checkup” You say with a smile.
As Alexia now realised that she would probably not see you again for a while, she slumped back in her seat and a new frown sat predominantly on her face.
Upon Mapi seeing this, she immediately felt an impulsive urge to assist one of her closest friends in her crush dilemma situation.
So Mapi did what she did best.
“My friend thinks your hot and wants your number now”
At hearing this you blushed bright red and Alexia smacked Mapi round the head.
“Excuse my friend! She can be very blunt… and stupid” Alexia said as Mapi emits an offended gasp, “As I would have politely asked you at the end, could I please have your number, as I think your very beautiful”
You are still sat there in absolute shock, you knew who these two people were, Alexia Putellas and Mapi Leon. Two world famous Spanish and Barcelona football players, you couldn’t help but wonder what the two time balon d’or winner wanted with your number.
Unfortunately, Alexia mistook your shock for rejection.
“I’m sorry, I have made it awkward, it’s okay that you dont feel comfortable giving me your number” Alexia suddenly stood up to leave, and pulled Mapi up with her “Thankyou for your help, goodbye”
The spaniard quickly took the prescription from your desk and rushed out with Nala in her arms, and urging Mapi to follow her, who felt slightly bad for embarrassing her friend like that.
———————————————————————
Alexia quicky rushed back down the corridor to the receptionist desk, wanting to get Nala’s prescription, and get out of the stupid vets as soon as possible, probably as she knew to return to her house and cry at the embarrassment she had suffered today.
The midfielder was about to hand over the prescription to the receptionist, but Mapi’s eyes caught a glimpse of something on the back of the paper.
“Alexia stop!”
Alexia turned to glare at the defender, “What now?” She said followed by an exasperated sigh.
“The paper!”
At this, Alexia turned over the paper, and couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips, as there was your number hastily scribbled down with a note: -call me
As she noted down the number into her contacts, she realised, she hadn’t even asked for your name.
Alexia turned to the receptionist, and asked, “Who was the vet that just saw us?”
“Y/n, she’s sweet, just moved here from London recently!”
“Thankyou” Alexia replied, as the receptionist grabbed the pills, Alexia put down your name into her contacts and sent you a quick message.
- Hey! It’s Alexia, from the clinic, I wasn’t lying when i told you i thought you were beautiful and I would love to take you on a date sometime?
#barcelona femeni#barcelona femeni x reader#woso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso x reader#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#mapi leon#maria leon#mapi león#mapi leon x reader#Spotify
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Outlines on bedsides
Pairing: Luke Castellan x F!Reader
Warning: NSFW, established relationship, smut, PWP, semi public sex, slight exhibitionist, bratty (slightly) sub!Luke, oral (f!receiving), fingering, mutual masturbation (?), they’re making a sex tape!!!! (lol).
Word count: 4.0k+
A/N: Based on this ask! I started writing this fic with the idea of a jealous!reader, but then I give up, so cheers to another pure smut!
!Not readproof!
Luke had no idea what he was getting into.
You can tell how much he enjoys the way he is making you feel. The way he’s touching you, the words of encouragement you whisper in his ear, they all make his body shiver with pleasure.
It feels like heaven having him close to you, touching every inch of your body in a way that makes you want to let your control go. But you know you couldn’t do that. Not when you wanted the upper hand over him.
You feel his warm breath against your skin as he kisses your neck, down to your inner thighs. His hands trail down your shoulders, down the curve of your spine and up your back.
In all honesty, you don't hesitate to acknowledge—particularly once the teasing kisses on your thighs come to an end, igniting a sensation where your legs meet your hips that Luke possesses an exceptional skill when it comes to pleasuring women.
Actually, it's the soft and slick flat of Luke’s tongue moving in long and leisurely strokes on your clit as if the ache surrounding your intimate area is nothing compared to the one simmering in your stomach.
With this sight, Luke only wanted to surrender himself to you more quickly; he wondered how it would be if you both were in a completely different place instead of being in the middle of the cabin where anybody who weren’t supposed to be there happen to just waltz in and see what the both of you are doing.
Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to be having sex in broad daylight when everybody else was out training. But that’s also the same reason why the two of you decided to do it right now.
Everybody was out training. Except for both of you.
But that still didn’t eliminate the possibility of somebody stumbling in. You both choose to do it in the Hermes cabin of all places. Sure, his siblings and all the unclaimed kids were out training, but that didn’t stop the possibility of a newbie suddenly appearing.
He watched how you would allow your body to dissolve like water and completely disrupt his pristine sheets, then maybe you could catch your breath and find your voice once more.
It's his mouth. The precise movements. The pulling, gentle sucking, and fluttering of his tongue. Increasing in intensity, licking along the crease. It's these actions that cause your toes to curl and your feet to press flat against the bed. You tightly clutche fistfuls of cotton sheets.
Your fingertips intertwine with his hair. You herself to the table behind you, your back and hips tensing, thighs willingly parting. Perhaps you give yourself too freely, but Luke is the kind of person who gives relentlessly, always ready to receive in return.
This is an undeniable truth. He draws your swollen lips into a kiss, a mischievous suction, tasting yourself in between his lips before dipping himself back into your body and your thighs gradually tighten around the sides of his head, causing a slight dizziness to overcome him.
With an open hand gently caressing your thigh, he encourages you to open up, to gasp for air.
As you lay there, panting and covered in sweat, Luke's fingers trail across your heated skin. He smirks down at you, his eyes dark with desire. "You like that?" His question came out breathlessly, trying to get a breather after burying himself in you.
“Am I doing a good job?” His voice was asking for reassurance, he didn’t want to do anything that wasn’t just purely satisfying you.
You nod eagerly, unable to form words. The way he knows exactly how to touch you is both exhilarating and terrifying.
But just as things start to escalate, Luke pulls his head away abruptly. You feel a mix of disappointment and anticipation swirling inside you.
"What are you doing?" You ask breathlessly, arching your back in protest.
Luke chuckles softly and leans back against the headboard of the bed. "Relax," he says casually. "I'm not done satisfying you yet."
Your heart races as he slowly started sucking on his own finger.
"What's that for?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at his behaviour.
Luke smirks mischievously before answering sarcastically, "I just wanted to taste you.”
Without warning, he slides one finger inside you, stretching and teasing until you're begging for more.
With a sly grin, Luke leans in close, his lips grazing against yours. "I know what you want," he whispers seductively. "I can feel it."
His fingers slide between your thighs, teasingly circling around your clit. You gasp as waves of pleasure wash over you. It feels like electricity coursing through every nerve ending in your body.
"Please say it," Luke moans appreciatively as he watches your body tense and relax around his hand.
“Please tell me you want me.”
“Luke,” you respond softly, leaning against his chest. His breathing is shallow and your heart is pounding. You feel so close to him in this moment, almost as if nothing else in the world exists. “I’m not saying that.”
You gave him a smug smile as he pouted at your answer.
The bed creaks with every movement he makes.
Luke holds you tightly, his entire body tense, and runs his fingers through your body.
His expression hesitates slightly as he feels you tense up. "Let me know if it hurts," he whispers gently, and you feel him ease up a little. “Or if I’m going to fast.”
When you don’t protest, he continues, kissing along your neck and shoulders. His lips trail down your body, leaving a tingling sensation on your skin.
But your body responds to his rhythm. You can feel every movement like the brush of a feather, the brush of your skin. His touch is gentle and caressive, and his breath is on your neck.
He takes a deep breath before leaning in closer to you, his hands trailing softly down your shoulders. “I just want this to be special for you.”
“Luke Castellan, if you don’t shut up and hurry up, I swear someone is going to walk in before I finish.”
The comment makes him chuckle quietly at your frustration, and his hands immediately move even quicker.
You notice that he's being extra gentle now, and his eyes are full of admiration for you.
“What? I thought you liked hearing me talk,” he replies with an exaggerated pout. “I was just planning everything out so that it'd be perfect for you.”
“You could have just told me to shut up if you wanted me to shut up, you know?"
You can't help but smile as his fingers dance across your skin, filling you with the sweet sensation of being touched. The way he's taking the time to explore every inch of your body, the way he is looking at you like you're something precious.
It's almost too much to handle but in the best way possible.
He slows his movements as you begin to moan in response. “Is it too much? Am I doing okay?” he whispers in a rush, “I'll go more slowly if you want.” he whispers softly, his breath hot on your skin.
As he notices the increase in the sound of your breath, he slows his strokes, letting them linger longer. His eyes are fixed on yours, watching for any hint of discomfort. He adjusts his pace to match your breathing, waiting for you to signal that it's too much.
You feel his fingers trail softly up your thigh, his other hand moving slowly over your waist. He caresses you in a way that feels almost too good, his eyes fixated on you as he kisses your neck softly.
His touch is addictive, and you find yourself wanting more. "Your body is so perfect," he whispers in your ear, and the sound of his voice makes you tremble with desire. He leaves lingering kisses, worshipping your body.
He trails kisses across your neck, making his way down to your chest, his eyes never leaving yours. His touch is addictive, and you can't help but tremble with desire.
“What would the others think seeing you being so good for me?” He breaks away from the kiss slowly, watching you for a moment.
The corners of his mouth quirk up into a smirky smile as he watches you. "I'm pretty sure they'd be pretty jealous," he teases, "But I don't mind being good to you. I want to be good for you."
As he keeps kissing your neck, you find yourself lost in the sensation. You almost forget where you are, your senses overwhelmed with pleasure. You let out a soft moan, your body arching as he continues.
Luke pulls away for a moment, his mouth just inches away from your ear as he whispers: "Tell me what you want me to do."
Your body is completely lost in the moment, caught up in the sensation of his touch. As his hand slowly slows its pace, you almost feel deprived of something vital, a deep moan escaping your lips, your body arching.
Luke smiles smugly as you moan softly, the sound enough to drive him mad with desire. "Are you enjoying it?" he whispers, his voice hot in your ear.
"It's been a while since you’ve let me touch you, so I want to make this special." You feel his other hand moving slowly up your body, his fingers grazing the curves of your body.
He then glanced over at his nightstand, grabbing the video camera that had sitting there ever since the both of you started.
He takes one hand off of you to adjust the camera, and you feel the sudden change in the mood. Your body reacts in a way that feels odd, but not in a bad way.
You're not against being watched, so if he wants to film you, then he has your permission. but of course, Luke, being Luke, he had to ask. “Can I?”
He waits for your response before he begins to record.
"If you want,” you tell him softly, your body tingling with desire. “I'm not completely opposed to being filmed,” you add, a shiver running down your spine as the camera captures your body from all angles.
His expression is expectant, but also a bit hopeful. You've never done anything like this before, but the idea of being filmed does make you feel a little giddy.
You sense that he really wants to continue, but he also wants to make sure you still feel comfortable and confident. At the same time, you're intrigued by the idea of being filmed. you know who Luke is; he wouldn't share it with anyone else without permission. He also knows better that if he does, he’ll get a hefty punishment.
He pauses for a moment, his expression soft as he looks at you. “Are you sure about this?” he asks, his voice gentle, “We don't have to do this. I don't want you to get uncomfortable, or to feel like I'm pressuring you.” Luke has always been careful not to push you into things you aren't ok with, and his expression says he's serious now.
“I give you my permission, Luke.” You sense the excitement and arousal radiating from his body, and you can't help but feel turned on by his reactions.
Your body is tingling with excitement, and your breath begins to quicken. You feel so overwhelmed, but at the same time, it's almost thrilling to think that someone is watching you.
“Good,” he replies, his voice oozing with anticipation. He starts filming again and his face lights up with a cheeky grin. He continues to kiss you, his hands touching you gently, his body moving seamlessly over yours. Every touch feels intoxicating, sending shivers down your spine.
You feel the heat of the camera against your skin and the sensation is nearly overwhelming.
"You should be thanking me for letting you witness me being so good to you."
A smug grin spreads across his face as he looks into the camera, his eyes bright with amusement. "Well, I am grateful," he replies, his hands grazing softly along your body, "I'm sure our viewers at home are loving it too."
His tone is playful as he continues to kiss you, his hands trailing softly up your body. You feel warm all over as if your flesh was radiating with heat. His kisses are gentle, each one making you feel like you're being worshipped. You can't help but feel intoxicated by the sensation.
His fingers slowly dipped into again, fastening his pace as he deepened the kiss, angling the camera at your face.
He leans into the camera, his hands running down your neck, his kisses getting deeper. You feel like you're drowning in pleasure, the sensations taking over your body.
The camera captures every detail of your expressions, your body arching tightly against his hand. It's almost like he was worshipping you with his touch and you loved feeling so desired.
“I want to be good to you.”
“I want you to feel like I'm worshipping you with every touch.” His tone is soft yet seductive, with a look of pure pleasure on his face. You feel the urge to arch your body against his hand, the sensations taking over your body.
“I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.” His lips are against your neck, biting very gently. His hand trails gently down your body, his other hand resting on your hip as he holds the camera steady.
“Luke, I’m—“
“Is this too much for you?” he asks, taking his face away from your neck and looking into your eyes to see if there's anything wrong. His hands trail slowly down your side, brushing against your skin playfully.
His voice is sweet and tender, his expression soft and concerned. He seems genuinely worried that he might’ve made you uncomfortable.
Your body is overcome with a rush of pleasure, every inch of you feeling energized. You can feel your muscles clenching tighter, the sensation becoming almost uncontrollable.
“I only want to make you feel good,” he whispers, his fingers gently tracing circles along your clit. He was holding back his own arousal, feeling himself twitched right with how your body was reacting.
As he continued to pleasure you, your hands slowly reached down onto him. When your hand touched his raw skin, you very slowly stroked him from his base to head, teasing him, admiring for the millionth time how perfect and heavy he felt in your hand.
His breath catches abruptly as your hand makes its way down his body. You feel his body tremble, his cheeks flushing and his breath becoming raspy.
He looks into your eyes, watching as your hand slowly traces patterns over him. The way you touch him is making him crazy, making him feel wild and untamed.
“You’re doing a good job,” you reassured him, knowing he was enjoying every bit of it from the way tried biting back his moan—the hand that was holding up the camera, slowly moved onto the sheets.
He sighs and lets his head fall back, taking a deep breath and trying to maintain some semblance of composure. The sounds of his heavy breathing fill the air, and you feel the need to laugh from the way he's trying to disguise his moans with subtle sounds.
"Don’t worry, I’ll return the favour," I teased, he’s trying to hold back his moans from the sheer sensation of your touch. His hands continue to move down your body, his fingers tracing over your curves gently. “After you’re done with me.” His kisses become deeper and more passionate, his voice getting hoarser with every word.
“Promise?” he whispers, his voice full of hunger. He seems eager to get you to return the favour. His voice quivers slightly as your hand trails all the way down his body.
He speeds up the movement of his slick hand which made the lewdest sounds. You feel him getting close to the edge, his breathing becoming more erratic with every touch.
You simply nodded as you let go of him, your hands combing through his hair instead.
He lets out a sharp exhale of air, letting it fill the room. His hand was still moving at a steady pace, but you could feel him trying to resist. You weren't sure how much longer he could hold on.
As your hands combed through his brown and bronze-tinted hair, he let out a soft sigh. Your body suddenly trembled violently like your limbs were about to convulse.
“Fuck—“
"You alright?" he whispers softly, his voice cracking and his body trembling as he struggles to stay in control. His breathing is ragged and shallow, but he tries to keep his pace steady.
“I’m close,” you whisper, your voice still breathless. His hand keeps moving at a steady pace, but he makes no effort to speed up the speed. He just watches you, eager to witness the intensity of your pleasure.
The sounds coming from your body were louder than anything you'd heard before every movement was accompanied by a soft moan or an eager sigh. You were on a whole new level of sensitivity, and it was clear that he was enjoying every second of it. The camera continued to record the entire scene, documenting all the details of your pleasure and his reactions.
“Don’t stop,” you tell him, your voice quivering with excitement as you feel that familiar build-up of passion deep within you. He keeps his pace steady, his eyes glued to you, waiting for the moment when you reach your climax.
“I'm not stopping until you need—” he starts, but he doesn’t finish his sentence when you bundle up his hair, softly yanking his head down. You feel him tighten his grip on you, his breath rasping out of his mouth. Your breath catches abruptly as the sensation becomes increasingly intense. Your body's tension builds up, all your focus completely immersed in what he's giving you.
“Hnngh…” he breathes heavily, his voice straining and his breathing becoming shallow. You can tell that he's nearing the edge, but he maintains a steady pace, focused on giving you your moment. He wants you to have this.
The room grows hot and the air becomes thick with your heavy breathing. He does not attempt to distract himself from your movements, watching your expressions and facial reactions as the intensity only builds before pushing his face down between your thighs, circling his tongue on your clit once more.
The video camera was long gone once he wrapped his arms around your thigh, splaying your legs wide open as he continued.
You can feel the muscles in your thighs tense up as he holds you in place. You feel his hands wrapped around both of your thighs, his fingers pumping softly in-and-out of you as he continues. His touch is like an explosion of sensation, sending chills all the way through your body. Your entire being is consumed by the pleasure he's giving you, your heart beating so fast it feels like it's about to burst.
His body is pressed against yours, his mouth moving with so much attention and passion that you can't help but feel overcome. His tongue is hot and his breath is heavy, but all that matters to him is your pleasure.
Every movement of his tongue and lips is like a wave of ecstasy, the sensation sending you over the edge as you come into his mouth. Your body quivers violently, your voice breaking into a high-pitched moan.
Luke didn’t waste a single moment as he quickly started slurping all of the juices that were practically all over his face and fingers.
His hands fall slowly away from you, the feeling of exhaustion overwhelming him. He closes his eyes for a moment, his face still flush with excitement. He sits there for a minute, letting the feelings pass slowly before he opens his eyes again.
His smile softens as he stares at you, his body still trembling slightly. Everything that happened felt real and intense like it could become something more if you wanted.
“You’re so good to me,” you say, your voice still breathless. You lay back on his hands, feeling completely drained by the rush of pleasure that had swept over your body. Your body shivers slightly with every deep breath, but you’re too immersed in your own satisfaction to care.
He pulls his mouth away briefly to take a breath, his body still trembling slightly as he looks up at you with a smug grin. He looks utterly exhausted, so exhausted that he doesn't even have the energy to talk. The camera is still recording every minute movement as your body finally relaxes at the moment after.
After you calmed down from your high, you slowly started to shift your thighs, moving them together while he lay in between them.
He glances over to the camera for a split second before looking back at you. His fingers trail gently along your thigh, his eyes never leaving your face. You could tell that he was still feeling the effects of the intimacy. His breathing was slowly returning to normal, but he was still filled with unexplainable excitement for what had just occurred.
He pushed his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean of all your juices. He continues to lick his lips, savouring every bit of you that's left on his fingers.
He lets out a soft sigh as you shift your thighs, your body rubbing against him as you adjust to a more comfortable position. Your body is still tingling with residual pleasure, the feeling lingering in your muscles even after the intensity of the finale.
He pulls his fingers away from his mouth and looks up at you, his face still flush with excitement. He runs his fingers along your thigh, his lips curling into a soft smile. His hand trails your thigh and up your side, moving slowly, but firmly.
You reached over to the video camera—playing the video in your hands, watching the scene that played out before you. It was clear that Luke made sure to get every scene of that moment into the video. You couldn’t believe you let him record it, but it was also one of the best decisions you've ever made because you can relive that intense and indescribable experience over and over again.
The video of the entire scene played out before you, every second of your pleasure recorded in the clearest quality possible. You almost chuckled as you saw yourself being pleased by Luke so enthusiastically, the intense sensation sweeping over your body as your facial expressions grew increasingly expressive.
The camera captured every detail of the scene, both visually and audibly. You could hear your breathing and your sighs in the background, the sound of the bed creaking against your movements.
You glanced down at him, smiling before hitting record on the video camera again. “I still need to keep my end of the bargain.”
His breath catches abruptly, and his eyes widen. A subtle smile cracks on his face, and he glances at the camera again before looking back at you. His head tilts slightly to the side as he notices that you've started recording again.
He raises his eyebrows in surprise as you hold up the camera to capture the scene in front of you. Your smile widens as you begin to tease him again, the prospect of pleasing him bringing a sense of satisfaction to your own desire.
His body starts to tremble again, and he looks at the camera for an answer, hoping that you'd turn it off, but something tells you that his reaction to you recording him is going to be worth watching.
"Don’t go too hard on me," he whispers softly, his voice cracking slightly.
“It’s cute that you think I’ll go easy on you.” Your reply was met with an amused laugh from Luke. He knows you won’t ever take it easy on him.
#luke castellan#luke castellan smut#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan pjo#pjo#pjo disney+#pjo tv show#pjo series#pjo fandom#pjo luke#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#imagine#smut#charlie bushnell x reader#charlie bushnell
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“Your boyfriend,” Chirssy sighed as she picked through Nancy’s clothes, “Y’know, Steve?”
Robin blinked at her, “You think I’m dating Steve?”
That was a silly question, “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? You guys are all over each other.”
They were. Piggy back rides, cuddling on the couch together, constantly invading each other’s personal space. The only person worse with Steve was Eddie, but Chrissy figured that just came with being best friends for over a decade. She didn’t exactly have a frame of reference for that, considering her first real friends were barely six months old.
Chrissy just hadn’t expected Robin to burst out laughing. Hard enough to double over.
Robin wiped at her eyes, barely managing to speak through her own cackles, “That’s-oh my god. How have we fucked up this badly?”
Chrissy could feel a flush creep up her neck, embarrassment kicking in. She hated when she wasn’t in on the joke. It usually meant that it was actually on her, “Don't be mean.”
“No!” Robin rushed out to say, effortlessly catching on to the look on Chrissy’s face, “No! I-I don’t mean- you’re not stupid! I am. We are. For… reasons. But we aren’t dating.”
That didn’t make any sense. Unless… was Steve leading her on? Was he the type of guy to do that?
Chrissy raised a brow at her, “So what are you doing? The two of you are attached at the hip. Unless he just drives you around everywhere for fun?”
Chrissy could tell Robin was still trying not to laugh. She was failing at it too, obvious as she hid it behind her hand.
“Stop laughing at me,” Chrissy grumbled.
“I’m not! I’m just laughing near you,” Robin said quickly. She turned to Steve, “Hey babe, can you come over here for a second?”
He came trotting right over, leaving Eddie to argue with Nancy in his place. He kind of reminded her of a dog, but in a cute way. Like a golden retriever boyfriend.
Robin wrapped an arm around his shoulder the second he was within reach. She grinned at him, shaking him the slightest bit, “How would you feel about us going out some time?”
Steve stared at her, obviously confused, “Huh?”
“You, me,” Robin went on, “The whole boyfriend girlfriend shtick. What do you say?”
Chrissy didn’t expect to Steve physically cringe, like the idea completely disgusted him, “Ew, no.”
Robin scoffed but she didn’t look very surprised, “Fucking rude.”
“No!” Steve said, raising his hands to placate, “I don’t mean you’re gross! I mean it would be like banging my sister!”
It was Robin’s turn to cringe, “Dude, ew.”
“See!”
Chrissy didn’t understand what was happening. She stared at them, blurting the question out, “You guys aren’t together?”
Robin did a set of jazz hands, “Nope. Absolutely zero attraction between us. See?”
“But why?” Chrissy asked, looking between the two of them, “You both seem so perfect for each other.”
“Hey Eddie,” Steve called, a weird smile on his face, “What do you think? Are Robin and I perfect for each other?”
Suddenly Robin had that same look, “Yeah. He knows Steve better than anybody. Let's have him weigh in.”
Eddie groaned as he came over, clearly eavesdropping the entire time. He left Nancy to dig around her closet, walking up next to Steve with a sigh, “Are we really doing this? Really?”
Robin gasped, faking a faint, “Are you implying that I’m not good enough for Steve?”
Steve gasped right along with her, joining in with the dramatics while Chrissy was still lost, “I think he might be.”
“As fun as this little game is,” Eddie sighed, “I think we should just tell her. I’m tired of keeping my hands to myself anyway.”
Steve looked at him, head cocked, “You think so?”
“Why not?”
Steve shrugged, his eyes landing back onto Chrissy. His voice dipped down, more serious then before. He was talking like he was speaking to Eddie, but Eddie wasn’t the one he was staring down as he spoke, “It makes sense. I think the chances of it going badly are pretty low. The alternative wouldn’t be very wise.”
Chrissy was reminded, not for the first time, why she thought Steve was the scarier one of the best friend duo.
But then Eddie was clamping a hand onto Steve’s shoulder, pulling him closer as he mumbled in his ear, “Put the claws away angel. I highly doubt she's like that. Plus she's been through enough for one day. Don't you think?”
It was actually pretty impressive, how easily a few words had Steve’s face transforming from scarily defensive to pleasantly neutral. It nearly looked like the words made him shiver, “I-you're right. Sorry Chris. I'm just… sensitive about it “
“I have no idea what’s going on,” Chrissy said, completely unable to accept an apology that she didn’t understand, “What is happening?”
And what did Eddie just call him?
Eddie went on, “Well… we kind of have this thing when we’re in a near death experience. Or at least adjacent to it. Where we, well, kind of let loose? So we might as well warn you about what you’re going to see beforehand.”
Chrissy stared as Steve leaned further into him, nearly too close. No, definitely too close. He was basically nuzzling the side of Eddie’s face as he spoke, “You’re making it sound like we’re going to commit public indecency in front of her. And I’m the one who needs to calm down?”
Chrissy still didn’t get it. But her brain was still trying to work it out, fitting the weird pieces together. The way they were leaning into each other. The fact that Steve, for some bizarre reason didn’t want the best girl in the country, despite the fact that Robin was right there. How Eddie was instantly able to calm him down.
Angel.
Oh.
Oh.
OH.
“Uh, you okay there Chris?” Eddie asked, watching right at the realization hit her.
She was not okay. Not because of Eddie and Steve, but because this meant Robin was single. And she had been the entire damn time.
Chrissy shook herself out of the stupid thought, just because she wasn’t taken didn’t mean she had a chance-
“Yeah, we’re kind of the queer trio over here,” Robin added, effortlessly grinding Chrissy’s train of thought back to a halt, “I um, probably should have told you sooner but piggybacking on their coming out seems appropriate.”
Nancy snorted, her outfit choices formalized as she walked over, “If you’re the queer trio what does that make me? The straight fourth wheel?”
They were all talking about it so casually. Like the thing that has plagued Chrissy’s mind for years, filling her with guilt and doubt, didn’t matter. It was normal, it was fine, and Robin liked girls.
She was pretty sure she was going to faint. But before she could her mouth was opening, “That’s- I - Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”
Her voice came out more forceful than she expected. Though in her defense, she just found out that she had a real shot with her best friend the same day her life was in danger. She was feeling frazzled, but she corrected herself when she was met with silence, “I-I’m fine with it! Really! I j-just wish I had known.”
Nancy looked at her sympathetically, “Did you have a crush on one of them too? I get it, Steve got me the first time we started getting close. But I promise it’s not that hard to get over it.”
“No!” Chrissy said quickly, again with too much force, “I’m just surprised. T-That’s it. Everything’s fine.”
“Think you got the wrong category there Nance,” Steve mumbled under his breathe, yelping when Robin pinched his arm with a sharp glare.
“Ignore him,” Robin said with a sad smile, “He doesn’t get everyone doesn’t have the gay gene.”
Chrissy nodded, her eyes trailing the flush that was going up Robin’s neck. Suddenly her mouth felt dry, the urge to correct her coming out full force. She shouldn’t tell them, right? It was wrong, it was bad, it didn't make sense. Because she knew they weren’t wrong. They weren’t bad. And Chrissy was so, so, tired of other people’s words invading her own thoughts.
Nancy was laying the clothes out, the only one capable of getting everyone back on task, “Since it looks like neither of you were actually looking. I picked these out for you-”
“I have it,” Chrissy blurted out, her eyes still on the clothes on the bed. She refused to look up for any of their reactions, “The um, what you guys were talking about earlier. Me too. And I like the blue skirt.”
Nancy was the only one who didn’t miss a beat, “Ah, so now there’s four. Good for you. And I agree with the skirt, it will make you look a little taller with the heels and the elongation. We can get you to pass for a college student for sure. Robin, what do you think about the pink?”
from the next chapter of this fic
#steddie#steddie fic#buckingham fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#chrissy cunningham#steddie childhood friends au#the universe trapped in your skin#preview#im trying y'all#queued
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Okay, honestly, I'm still reeling from the entire penacony quest, but here's my take on Sunday so far;
He's manipulative, obviously.
But like.. the type that's kind of hesitant from time to time because he's still sincere to a degree. At least, when it comes to his loved ones.
So, I guess that hesitance decreases a lot if you're just some nobody. Even then, Sunday does want the better for everyone, too. It just means that others may bear the brunt of it for the most part before being able to get ahold of it.
Also, at the very least, even if some people suffer, at the end Sunday believes they will reach where they want to, after. In that case, however, Sunday suffers far more than them, without actually ever reaching his own destination or idea of paradise.
However, this view is a bit distorted. Sunday believes to be "sacrificing" himself, shouldering loneliness and burdens in order to uphold everyone else's "paradise". But to the others, he's simply a tyrant overruling everyone's will with his own idea of Order.
Sunday deeply cares. He cares too much. That's kind of the problem.
A bit of self-destructing tendencies when pushed too far, I guess.
Lets ignore logic established by the quest for a second (because i literally am still reeling from it)
Imagine Sunday first discovers this possibility. He's terrified of it, but at the same time, he truly thinks this is humanity's salvage – for everyone who has deeply suffered. He thinks of you.
You who have had your fair share of pain, who confides in him late at night in the quiet of your privacy, hushed voices like silenced by a thick blanket through the wall.
You deserve to live a sweeter life. He thinks. No. You deserve more. He knows.
The first person he ever wants to step into this paradise – you.
Now, although Sunday was defeated in the end, we all know that unfortunately, our ragtag team had to wake up again because defeating him first was a dream. This means at some point, Sunday did succeed.
And after everyone wakes, you don't. You continue sleeping soundly. So does Sunday.
The rest of the world can return to their miserable, bitter lives outside of this dream; but Sunday will be damned if he's letting you go. Perhaps.. it's not a selfless wish, anymore. Perhaps at this point, Sunday desperately, selfishly, grips onto you with the latches of a sweet, deep dream. One where he was fatally destined to never reach, only to control from the waking world. Now that everyone else has woken, he wants to return to the dream. He wants to return to you, who he has so lovingly entrenched deep into it.
Also, Robin. Im in SO much pain... PLEASW..
Do you guys think.. even if Robin was vehemently resistant against Sunday's ideas..
Even though Sunday knew she wouldn't stand for it..
Do you guys think.. he wanted her to also join him at the end and enjoy the "Paradise" he created aswell?
Do you think he would have wanted Robin to stop worrying about everything, to take rest, to finally come home, and sing to her heart's content inside the dream? The dream where they set the bird free? The dream where Sunday still has a sweet tooth? The dream where she never has to wear elaborate neck-pieces? The dream where neither of them was hurt? Where neither of them left each other?
Oh...ogh. . My heart.
Sunday would be such a scary lover, too.
I mean even normally, I don't think a relationship with him would be that healthy
Particularly because it seems so healthy
If reader was in a relationship with normal sunday, I mean.. it's gonna at least appear healthy and normal, even to them. It's probably just Sunday having to constantly burden himself with all the dirty strings he has to pull, the quiet rush of water when he washes his hands before caressing the side of your face, the tight, closed smile he would give if you ever asked him what was wrong.. he can't let you know.
I think he'll take a yandere route in an established relationship if you do happen to find out what's been going on behind the scenes. He'll have to calm you down, and you promise you won't peep about it. The build up is almost invisible, because things seem to go back to the way they were. Before Sunday starts acting a bit.. restless. That would be when his yan! Tendencies would start kicking in, for a variety of reasons.
I feel like y'know, out of all the hsr cast, he's one of the characters who is genuinely very close to becoming a yandere canonically. Control freak? Check. Twisted ideals? Check. Unchecked power? Check. Hypnotization/manipulation? Check.
Also, the slight difference of his color pallete as opposed to Robin's.
His is much more washes out than Robin's. It's more "duller" but also more professional, and the gold of his halo is more colder than the warmer tone of Robin's halo. They both still have white/grey as a major color in their palletes, but Sunday's is accompanied by deep navy blues, or washed out blues. Robin's is very vibrant and purple. The only blue segment of her pallete is her hair, and it's remarkably more vibrant than Sunday's.
Also.. Sunday's whole ideas on "weak" and "strong"
Of course, it wasn't all correct, but that doesn't mean they didn't hold some semblance of sense.
Regardless, this playing with yan! Tendencies..... HOOOOO boy
So many thoughts. Sunday manipulating his partner is quite possibly the most common theme in them.
#moonink#hsr#honkai star rail#hsr spoilers#honkai star rail spoilers#hsr yandere#yandere hsr#yandere honkai star rail#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr x y/n#hsr x you#hsr x male reader#hsr x reader#yandere honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x gender neutral reader#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail x reader#hsr sunday#sunday hsr#honkai star rail sunday#hsr sunday x you#hsr sunday x y/n#hsr sunday x reader#honkai sr#yandere sunday x reader#sunday x y/n#sunday x reader#sunday x you#yandere sunday x you#yandere sunday
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