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hgfictionwriter · 1 month

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TLC

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Reader finds themselves in a very overwhelming situation and Jessie is there to care for her and protect her as best she can.

Warning: Mention of sensory overload, but that's about it.

A/N: Based on this request. I went non-smut for it and went fluff and comfort instead. Full disclosure, though I'm neurodivergent, I'm not autistic - so I wrote this based off my own experiences and those of friends who are autistic. I mean no disrespect if I've misrepresented in some way.

Jessie smiled as you talked excitedly about the museum you'd both just visited. Jessie had a rare break between club and national team obligations and you were on vacation together - something you'd been planning for months.

You both stood, swaying gently back and forth with the movement of the subway train and you both looked over as the next stop was announced. Jessie swallowed subconsciously as the platform came into view and she saw the hordes of people clamoring at the edge waiting to get on. Her head snapped back to you as soon as she felt your hand come up to her arm and grip her. It only took a moment to see the apprehension on your face.

"Hold onto me," Jessie told you softly, leaning in and imploring you to meet her gaze.

A thought struck Jessie as the door dinged open and she scrambled to reach into your backpack, making sure to keep her feet planted to avoid being moved. She smiled triumphantly a moment later as she held up your headphones and began placing them over your ears.

"It's going to be really loud in here," she told you and you nodded your thanks. You watched out of the corner of your eye as people streamed in, pushing each other out of the way to secure a spot in the car. You shuffled in closer to Jessie who stood as tall as she could and pushed herself back against anyone who was trying to move in.

Even with Jessie's efforts, by the time the doors closed - needing a few attempts as people were still struggling to get inside - the train car was packed. People were shoulder to shoulder and back to back.

Bodies jostled into one another as the train started to move again and your grip tightened on Jessie's arms. She tightened the arm she had wrapped protectively around your waist, her other hand grasping the grab handle above her to hold you both steady.

Jessie watched carefully as your gaze darted back and forth, taking in all of the people around you. She saw your shoulders tense further, inching up towards your ears. She gave you a small squeeze and tilted her head to catch your eye.

"Close your eyes. Or, eyes on me," she mouthed. She smiled reassuringly at you. "I've got you."

Jessie relaxed a touch when you kept your eyes trained on her before eventually closing them and cuddling into her further. She leaned in and kissed your forehead.

She glanced up at her watch, it shouldn't have been this busy right now, but maybe there was an event of some kind that had gotten out. She sighed and looked over her shoulder at the map. Three more stops.

As the train began to slow again, Jessie turned her head back to you to find you watching her. She smiled and leaned in, speaking louder so you could hear. "Do you want to get off here? We can wait for a bit or find another way."

You shook your head. "I'll be fine." And you meant it. It wasn't good - but you were managing and Jessie was being an incredible support as she always was.

Jessie studied you for a few moments, looking for any signs that she should refute your response, but eventually nodded her acceptance.

She watched over her shoulder, waiting and hoping that people would leave and give you more space, but unfortunately even though a few people got off, it seemed like just as many got back on. Again, she planted her feet and scrupulously watched everyone navigating around you, working to box them out as best she could.

The remaining legs of the ride were painfully slow, but with Jessie's help you were managing. You tucked your head against her at one point and Jessie rest her cheek against you, now and then tilting to kiss the side of your head.

The train began to slow again and Jessie pulled back a bit, inviting you to look at her.

"Our stop," she mouthed with a gesture of her head to the doors. "Hold onto me tight."

When the train shook to a stop and the doors opened, Jessie gave you a quick once over and grabbed your hand; you gripped her tightly.

Jessie frowned as she began to make her way through, very firm in making a path for you and glancing back often to make sure no one was pushing you.

When she stepped out onto the platform she immediately stepped to the side, making sure to not let go of your hand, but now bringing up her other hand to brace your back and guide you off.

She walked you both to an empty part of the platform and turned back to face you. She gently grasped your arms. Even though you were okay with her touching you - one of the very few people who was - she was mindful that you were likely very overstimulated and didn't want to make it worse. She watched you tenderly, letting you readjust and respond when you were ready.

Although some effects were lingering, you felt worlds better already. You steadied your breath for a bit and eventually let yourself fall into Jessie's waiting arms. She held you close, her embrace warm and steady and so very comforting.

When you were ready, you stood back and took off your headphones, tucking them away.

"How are you doing?" She asked, searching your face for answers. "What can I do to help?"

"I'm doing better already. I just needed a moment. I want to get out of here, though."

"Yeah, we should get some fresh air," Jessie agreed. "Are you ready to go?" You nodded readily. "Okay, then. Let's go."

She took your hand once again and led the way through the station, making sure to give any crowds a wide berth. When you approached the escalator she stepped to the side and held out her arm ushering you to step on first. She got on behind you and served as a buffer to keep from anyone getting on too close.

You breathed a sigh of relief as the cold night air hit your lungs when you stepped outside. It felt like whatever residual weight had been on you was now lifted.

You released Jessie's hand and took a couple of steps away to further reset. You looked over to her and despite how long you'd been together, some small piece of you was still slightly caught off guard by how tenderly she gazed at you. You'd dated others before and no one quite got you like her.

When you first met, she was keen to learn how to respect your boundaries, even how to help maintain them with others, and how to help you cope when things got to be too much. She never once made you feel like a burden. You'd apologized once before and she was unwavering as she told you to never be sorry for having different needs.

You smiled at her.

"Thank you," you said. Her smile brightened.

"You don't need to thank me. You know I love you," she told you.

"I know." You really did, too. "I'm lucky."

She chuckled. "Come on. I'm lucky. I don't take for granted that you feel safe with me. I'm grateful that I can be close to you."

You smirked. "You are very special." She beamed at this. She dug the toe of her shoe into the ground momentarily, her hands in her pockets.

"Do you mind if I kiss you?"

"Please do."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso #canwnt #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine

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minisugakoobies · 4 months

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It's You - Choi San | First Kiss

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF's Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: angst!, mutual pining comes to a head, or more accurately to lips, aka kissing Word Count: 1.8k (ok it's a little more than a drabble) Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend's little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That's it. How did this happen?

A/N: Hi, I'm back. This is the first vignette that's not from an ask but just from my own head. I just really wanted to write their first kiss, so I did! I hope you enjoy. 🥰

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It's You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

A few weeks after Halloween, Hongjoong invites everyone to a friend’s deejaying gig on the other side of town. Your roommate opts out, saying she’d rather spend one of her rare nights off at her boyfriend’s, so you, San, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong check it out together.

After the gig ends, your ears still ringing, feet aching from all the dancing you did, the four of you make your way home. Wooyoung and Hongjoong both seem hyped from the show, talking excitedly as you wait for the train. You watch them with a fond smile, leaning against the wall and taking turns lifting your feet to take some of the pressure off.

San joins you. “You okay, Noona?”

“Yeah. Just wore the wrong boots tonight,” you say. “Didn’t realize we’d be dancing so much.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I could’ve warned you,” San grins. “Sorry. We’re not the type to sit through a set.”

“Clearly,” you reply, smiling back. Honestly, you’d been pleasantly surprised at how well San and his friends dance. They were so free with their movements and their energy had been infectious. You couldn’t have stood still if you’d tried.

Of course, now you’re paying for it, wincing as your throbbing feet scream at you. You shuffle again, and then, ever-so-gracefully, you lose your balance, tipping over, letting out a loud expletive that draws everyone’s attention.

Hongjoong and Wooyoung cackle as San grabs your arm, pulling you back upright.

“No worries, Noona, I’ve got you.”

He murmurs the words reassuringly, arm sliding from yours to loop around your shoulders, squeezing you into his side, but only for a second, before he scolds the other two for laughing so much. You giggle along as Wooyoung and San pretend to fight, but your heart’s not in it, because it’s still yearning painfully for San to hold you again. Every time he touches you - hugs you goodbye, cuddles with you on the couch, even the briefest moments of contact like just now - it leaves this black hole inside your chest, an endless gnawing need for more and more and more.

At some point, you won’t be able to withstand it anymore. You’re not sure what will happen then.

The train car is crowded when your group enters. Unfortunately for your tired feet, there's nowhere to sit, and blessed little space to stand, so everyone splits up, trying to find room for themselves. Except for San, who guides you towards the opposite doors with a gentle touch on your back, and then stands beside you, reaching overhead to hold on while your hands curl around a pole.

Some creepy guy already too close on your right leans over, trying to get an eyeful of your chest, and San smoothly slides around, blocking you from the asshole’s view. You smile gratefully, and he gives you an intimidating look but undercuts his mean mugging with an eyebrow wiggle, and you giggle, which then makes him grin, a chain reaction of happiness that leaves you buzzing.

The gentle sway of the car as it hurdles down the tracks shakes you. You bump into San with a horribly steady rhythm, feeling sheepish for not having a strong enough core to keep yourself upright and balanced for more than a second at a time. He just laughs, finally throwing an arm around your back to help.

His hold is light, leaving a big sliver of air between you, a respectful distance that frankly makes you wish he’d be disrespectful. But he maintains it, supporting you in the most polite way, and somehow it still makes your heart jump fast as the wheels spinning beneath your feet. You turn your head, focusing on the window on the door, watching your reflection as the dark tunnels roll by.

At the next stop, more people pack themselves into the car. The small bubble of space around you pops as the wave of humanity rolls you into San, and you bring your hands up, bracing yourself against his chest, eyes widening at the solid warmth beneath your fingertips.

“Shit, sorry, sorry.” You apologize profusely, trying to step away, but the train jerks again, jostling you, and San tightens his grip, pulling you back into his arms.

“It’s ok,” he mutters, in a quiet voice. “I told you. I’ve got you.”

When your gazes meet, it’s like the air has been sucked from the car. Something shimmers in his dark eyes as they roam your face, and you utter his name unthinkingly, a tiny “San” just slipping from your open mouth, but it feels like a rogue confession of something you’ve been denying for so long. You’re not sure if he heard it but he definitely saw it because he’s been staring at your lips for a few seconds now.

You lean in at the same time he tilts his chin forward, and your mouths meet in the middle. A light kiss, feather soft, like testing the waters. The next one lingers, his lips firmer against yours. His hand splays on your back. You twist your fingers into the front of his t-shirt.

A third press weakens your knees, as his mouth slots against yours. Lips move together, part, allowing him to breathe in your little gasp.

The train emerges from the tunnel, and suddenly the lights in the car blast on as it comes to a slow stop at the next station. Immediately, you spring back, and so does San.

His expression is searing, and you glance away, looking to see if any of your friends are nearby, but the only one you can glimpse is Hongjoong. He’s got his back to you, a few feet and a dozen people away.

When the train starts up again, a few riders lighter, San loosens his grip, hand gliding up to a spot between your shoulders, far from the small where it had just been resting. By the time you reach your stop, his arm is more hovering than touching.

You and San find Hongjoong a few feet ahead of you when you depart. Wooyoung’s still on the train, since his place is closer to the next stop. Hongjoong slows his quick stride enough for you to catch up.

“You guys up for some ramen?” he asks, like he always does on late nights like this. You and San look at each other, and you don’t know if it’s the dim streetlights or what, but you can’t read his expression.

“Nah, I’m good,” San answers.

“I think I’m just gonna go to bed,” you start to say at the same time, cutting off to let San finish and then repeating yourself with a nervous laugh.

“‘Kay.” Hongjoong bears the rejection with his usual nonchalance. “I’ll see you later.” He crosses the street, heading for the convenience store on the next block.

And it’s just the two of you now, walking in silence. Two more blocks and you’ll be home. One more block. Just up the stairs now. Key in door, door closed, shoes off.

You stare at each other. He blinks first.

“Should we - “

“Did you want to - “

“Hey guys.”

Your roommate comes padding out of the kitchen, cup of tea in hand.

“Hey!” you nearly shout. “I thought you were staying over at Jongho's?”

If she’s surprised by the volume of your voice, Haneul doesn’t show it. She shrugs. “Yunho was being annoying, so I left.”

Yunho is Jongho’s roommate. He’s rarely at their apartment on the weekends. Just your luck that this would be the one night a year he strikes out and goes to his own bed instead of someone else’s.

Or maybe it’s for the best. Because it’s not too late to stop now before you do something else. Something potentially foolish. Let it just be a kiss. A one-time loss of rationality. Of caution.

Even if you can’t stop thinking about that night at the bar. Sitting there with San’s arms wrapped around you just felt so right.

Even if it’s been ages since you felt this way about someone.

Even if you’re pretty sure you’re falling for San.

“Are you going to bed or are you gonna stay up for a bit?” Haneul asks, taking a seat on the couch.

“Um…” you fight the impulse to glance at San. “I don’t know. I’m not really tired or anything….” Truth be told, you’re a little wired now. “Why?”

“I was thinking of starting that new drama Jongho told us about. Wanna join me?” She pats the space next to her.

San mumbles something about taking a shower. You watch him leave the room, and it feels like whatever happened on the train is already fading away. Did it really happen, or was it just a dream? Are your fantasies bleeding over into your waking hours now?

San joins you and Haneul near the end of the first episode, taking a spot on the floor in front of the couch so he can stretch out. He looks so soft, with his dark hair freshly fluffed from a towel, dressed in his favorite hoodie and sweats, and it’s a struggle to keep your focus on the television and not wonder what would’ve happened had Haneul not been home.

Part of you wishes San would catch you looking. But you’re not sure you could handle it if you met his gaze right now and didn’t find what you were hoping to find.

It’s actually a little odd how quiet he is, staring so intently at the show that you are completely ignoring. Is he doing the same thing you are, replaying the moment in his mind? Trying to freeze it in your memory?

Your stomach drops as you consider another possibility. What if he thinks the kiss was a mistake?

By the time the third episode is over, you’re exhausted, from your night out but also from the mental gymnastics you’ve been performing, silently twisting yourself into knots thinking about San and the train and what could happen versus what should. So you excuse yourself for the safety of your bedroom, where you can dream in peace.

Nero’s already curled up on his favorite spot on your bed, right next to where you lay your head. He cracks an eye open as you flop down beside him, and you reach out to give him an apologetic scritch, when you catch a scrap of paper poking out from beneath him. A note, with San's handwriting. He must’ve slipped it on your pillow after his shower. The first sentence sends relief flooding through you.

I don’t regret it.

But it’s what’s written next that has you rereading the note over and over. It’s a simple sentence, just a pleading command, but to you, it’s a revelation.

Please tell me you want more too.

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee

#ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #san x reader #choi san x reader #choi san fanfic #fic: it's you #bff's lil bro au

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timidpumpkin · 11 months

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Little Light (Stucky x reader)

Part 4: Retribution

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: While you're left feeling hopelessly confused, it's clear to Steve and Bucky that you have a lot to learn about being their good little girl.

Warnings for this part: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Forced age regression, DDLG themes, Female reader, Manipulation, Violence against reader, Being tied up, Hints to sexual themes, This one's dark folks, Mean Steve and Bucky, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

As always, lemme know if I missed any!!

Notes: Thank you to everyone who has supported me since I posted Part 1 many many months ago. I love you all and appreciate your support and kind words more than I can express. I'm super nervous to post this one so i'm really hoping everyone likes it. ^.^

Tagging: @ppatricia34me @canyonmooncreations @haleyhunwritess

(lemme know if you wanna be added to my taglist!)

P.S. Please feel free to comment/ask questions as they are a million times appreciated as I ALWAYS love to read you guy's thoughts!

(pictures are not my own)

Warm.

The cozy temperature surrounding you beckons you to sink further into its comfortable drowsy feeling. It feels nice–good. It’s comfortable as you pull at the blanket wrapped around you to cover the cold tip of your nose.

When you do though, adjusting as you move, adrenaline rushes through you.

All sense of tranquility leaps out of your body to be replaced by standing hairs and cold blood as you realize you’re not napping in your bed.

No–you’re napping on your capture’s lap.

Hazy memories from just a bit ago replay in your mind. The picture they paint is fogged up by an overcast of intense emotion.

Worry. Fear. Shock.

The panic you felt is now an almost disembodied ghost, content with hiding in the closet as it knows you can’t handle its presence anymore.

Not right now.

It would be too much. Your body and mind having already fought till every single cell within you is doused with exhaustion.

The wispy wave of relief you felt–feel–now molds into another feeling. It rips the comfort your body so desperately clings to at this moment of peril and unkindly reminds you that you shouldn’t have let your guard down.

But you did.

You–as you see it–involuntarily allowed the very person, no, the very people who have snatched you, took you from your, albeit, unexcitingly ordinary–but otherwise stable–life, to soothe the very predicament they have forced you in.

As you recall their hushed voices anchoring you, steady hands smoothing your trembling ones, and sweet comfort that you somehow found in their pacifying of you, the one emotion you painfully feel now is…embarrassment. It aligns with disgrace you feel within yourself for giving into…this.

You stiffen, body frozen in place as you become acutely aware of your situation again. Both the larger reality of being held hostage, and the other–ever so slightly smaller issue–that currently places your head nestled right in your captor’s lap. Bucky’s lap.

This is what you found so comforting in your sleep state?

Head wedged exactly between his legs, resting heavily against his lower half. Your hands curled up. You stare at them. They lay right in front of your view. Almost too close to your vision where you watch them resting, palms nestled down between his thighs.

But it’s not just your position. It’s his too. One of his arms is resting against you, draped over your side, his hand sprawled just at your navel, adding to the welcoming warmth you felt upon waking up. The other, languidly stroking your head with his thumb.

It’s an intimate position–close–in more ways than one. It’s not one you should be in, it’s not one you’re in voluntarily–despite what your last memories torturously remind you.

“You get enough sleep there, princess?” Bucky’s voice calls. You haven’t spoken a word but he must be able to tell you’re awake. Whether it’s from how your muscles have tensed, or the way you’ve been holding your breath since, is unknown to you.

You can’t see him. Your eyes are too intensely focused on how your hands rest with faux intimacy at his thighs and the realization of how long you’ve been in this position makes your lungs feel as if they don’t work anymore.

“You really scared Dada you know,” he moves his hand from your navel to caress your arm as he lends forward a bit to get a better view of your face. Still, frozen in place, you don't meet his gaze. Your self-preservation response only knows how to freeze now as you don’t move, but keep looking forward, completely unsure of how to tackle the situation you’re in.

Waves of memory come back to you. It’s blurry as you remember how scared you were. You remember how Steve calmed you. How his voice led you to placidity. How could that be? It’s what led you to the position you're in now.

Vulnerable. Again. And yet, you let it happen.

But you didn’t, no–you couldn’t–you don't remember exactly with anxiety fogging up your memory.

You knew one thing for sure; you couldn’t give in.

“Not going to ignore Daddy now, are you?” Bucky questions, taking his hand to your chin and facing it upwards so you’re looking up to him. Somehow, it’s still shocking how large he looks. You feel as though you've somehow been shrunk down a third of your size when looking at him. His hand is mostly just ghosting your face, guiding it up as he looms over you, one cheek smooshed against his navel now as his hand remains on the other.

“Hmm?” he questions, his pointer finger tapping methodically on your cheek, prompting you to answer. “Don’t tell me you forgot your manners already now, doll.”

“I-I wanna go home,” You try to sit up, not exactly sure why you said that, as recent events have told you already it’s not what he wants to hear. But you’re just not sure about anything at the moment. He looks at you with a displeased look, face dropping into an unkind frown.

His hold on you tightens; his forearm presses down on your chest lightly, silently reminding you that trying to move would be a bad idea. You don’t fight it, knowing you wouldn’t be able to succeed in getting up even if your life depended on it.

“You are home.” he declares curtly, before swiftly picking you up, dizzying you as he turns you around. You feel as though you’ve barely blinked before you’re in the new position. Your back is to his stomach as he situates you on his lap. His right arm wraps snugly around your waist, firmly securing you against his body. His left hand reaches in front and clasps around your cheeks, the cool metal instantly raising goosebumps on your once warm face as he slowly tilts your head back and forth for you, forcing you to look around the room.

“You see all this?” he lilts with a scolding undertone. “This is your home. All of it.” he pauses before–somehow–squeezing you closer to him. He brings his head to the side of your ear. His chest flush against your back, engulfing your body, and encapsulating your very being with how he maintains his grip on your face. His breath dances lightly against your ear as he speaks, adding to the chilling feeling overtaking your insides.

“Now what would you call a house where two Daddies take care of their little baby?” He speaks in a low, hushed tone. Not a sweet one–like the hushed subdued one Steve used on you just hours ago–No, Bucky’s tone is polar to that. It’s mocking, and sardonic as you can almost feel the smirk gracing his face without even looking at him. It’s as if he’s asking the most rhetorical question known to man. “Hmm?”

You feel your own breathing pick up. It becomes evident with how every millimeter your chest moves, your lungs have to fight against the pressure of Bucky’s heavy arms around you. Your mind is blank as fright starts to fill it instead. How were you supposed to answer that?

When you take too long to respond, Bucky promptly pinches at your side and simultaneously squeezes your cheeks harder, causing a retaliatory yelp out of you.

“Ah! I-I don’t know!” you squirm around at the pain that certainly doesn’t help you think.

He promptly covers your mouth with a shush, his sizable metallic hand swallowing up your face as you squeak dully now into his solid palm.

“No yelling now, doll.” He turns your face towards him so he can look at you as he speaks. He glances quickly at the closed bedroom door before looking back at you. “Answer Daddy’s question.” He directs, “I know you’re a smart girl.” he grins at you, and though–in most contexts–that would sound like a compliment, his tone is decidedly condescending as he continues. “But I’ll repeat my question, just in case my silly little girl forgot.” he smiles snidely at you for a brief moment before continuing. “What do you call a house where two Daddies take care of their little girl?” He says the question more slowly this time, eerily calm but just as patronizing as he goes.

You stare at him with wide eyes as he carefully removes his hand from your mouth. He doesn’t have to speak the words as his eyes alone tell you not to yell again. His fingers remain on your face, retaking their previous position of gripping your chin as he looks at you expectantly.

“...home…” you breathe meekly, voice almost cracking as you do, hoping that was the right answer.

“Good girl,” he roughly pats at your cheek with a slightly more authentic smile. “that’s exactly right.” he praises. You then hear some movement coming from the bedroom. Bucky glances that way before speaking to you again with a stern glare in his eye. “Now when Dada comes in here, you won't say any of those silly little thoughts, will you?” he asks presumptuously. You shake your head agreeably, and when Bucky’s head tilts with a clench of his jaw, you answer promptly out loud.

“Yes, Daddy” you quiver. He smiles at you, and as if on cue, Steve emerges from the door. There's a towel around his neck and he ruffles it around his hair before spotting you, his face lighting up when he does.

“Hi there angel,” he beams and leans down to you, instantly taking in the sight in front of him.

Your adorable frame sitting atop his partner's lap. You looked so perfect right there. As if you were the last puzzle piece missing his entire life, now fitting together so seamlessly that it just looks like a painting. A beautiful one. Steve isn’t sure how they went without you before. Your soft face still holds a frayed look. His poor girl. He was hoping a little bit of rest would ease your frazzled little mind.

“You feeling a bit better after your nap?” Steve asks with a loving tone as he carefully picks you up from Bucky’s lap. He situates you so that you are on his hip, one arm supporting your bottom with legs wrapped around his side as he guides your arms around his neck. You fit so nicely around him like this. He almost wishes he could stop time and freeze this moment forever. Being able to hold you like this, he’s never felt so whole, so complete. You feel tense in his arms, but he knows one day…that won’t be the case. You’ll lean fully in, wholly relying on and giving yourself to them both. He’s eager for every moment leading to it and each subsequent instant after.

Steve’s cold and wet hair tickles your arms. Being so close, you can’t help but notice the crisp comforting aroma that emits from his warm skin.

For some reason, you look to Bucky as if he holds the answer to Steve’s question. He just glares at you with a slight scowl that dares you to misbehave before standing up after too long of silence on your part.

“She’s still feeling a bit confused.” Bucky caresses you, palm enveloping the side of your face. “Huh, doll?”

“Awh…” Steve joins in on stroking your face by soothing the back of your head. “well that’s okay angel. Babies get confused so easily.” he says with that underlying patronizing but sweet tone he uses. “Why don’t you let Dada check you, huh?” he asks while looking you up and down. You then feel all blood draining from your face as your eyes go wide, having no idea what he means by that.

You look between him and Bucky frantically as Steve gently grabs one of your hands from behind his neck. You instinctively try pulling away but his grip tightens before you’re able to.

“Now now, don’t be scared,” Steve assures sweetly, a stark contrast to the death grip on your hand. “Dada just needs to look at those pesky little marks we had to leave on you last night,” he explains while unraveling you from him and setting you back down on the couch where he kneels in front of you. Your body trembles in anticipation–for what exactly, doesn’t matter.

You can’t control it as he diligently peels your socks off and rolls your leggings up to look underneath. He takes his time tracing the deformed marks with his fingertips, lifting up your ankles as he goes before making his way to your arms. He tugs on them gently in front of you and repeats his previous examination as if he’s mapping out every little laceration. “You don’t want any more of these…do you, babygirl?” Steve lilts, an ever so slightly threatening tone lacing his otherwise calm voice as he presses his fingers down, digging just harshly enough into where a bruise must be forming and causing you to jolt at the pain.

“Ah!-n-no!” you yelp pitifully quick at the discomfort.

“No…what?” Steve prods with false grace before pressing harder into your skin.

“N-no Dada!…ah!...please.” you shakily breathe the last word with a plea, pathetically pulling on your arms that don’t move an inch under his hold.

“Good girl,” he praises with a mischievous smile, and unclenches his painful grip, but doesn’t let go completely, instead, keeping a firm hold on you.

He steadily lifts your wrists up…to his lips. They ghost your skin as he glints at you with a soft smirk before placing slow…slow kisses along the marked-up lines.

Warm lips meet the welts that are painted all across and up your arms from where you were bound–corporal reminders of what disobeying meant–he trails each one of them, dragging his lips and dousing each inch of burning skin with tender kisses, his grip remaining its powerful hold so you remain immobile.

When he makes his way to your upper arm, you physically resist from full-on screaming. A quick glance to Bucky with your sorrowful eyes reveals no mercy from him. He just glares at you, a deadpan look on his face but a teasing smirk in his eyes that dares you to make a noise.

Steve lifts his head up to face you after planting his last kiss on your upper arm, just a hair's breadth from your face. Your head has already pushed itself back as far as it’ll go as the rest of your body is ensnared by his that hovers atop yours. Thick air surrounds you as your trembles turn to full-on shaking, watching him as his eyes don’t even meet yours. His blown pupils are intensively fixated on your lips now.

They look so soft.

Time itself seems frozen, all except a slow-motion icy droplet that falls from the tips of his hair. It lands atop soft cotton, dampening the fabric on your chest that ripples chills throughout you. He follows it, dark eyes lowering to where sensitive skin is hidden by the dainty onesie Bucky dressed you in earlier. You feel heat taking over the arctic sensation within you as he looks at your body with what you can only prescribe as desire–want.

But to your–very minuscule–relief he looks back up to your eyes, and gives you a quick smile, before leaning back on his knees again in front of you with a satisfied smile adorning his face.

“Might take a while for those to heal up,” he remarks, “but don’t worry, Daddy and I will give them lots of kisses to help them heal.” he smiles at you.

“What do you say, doll?” Bucky speaks up, crossing his arms.

A confused and worried look that causes your eyebrows to furrow comes over your face, unsure of what he wants when you’ve barely gotten your heart to stop pounding from the previous predicament.

Bucky decides–for now–he’ll key you in. Mostly because he doesn’t like seeing his Stevie all upset when you don’t do as you were told.

He mouths a “thank you” with a cock of his head motioning towards Steve below him.

“Th-thank you…D-dada” you squeak, voice uncontrollably shaky.

“Oh, such a good girl. My good little girl,” Steve beams at you before standing up. “Oh…poor thing,” he remarks while looking down at your trembling form. “You must be freezing,” he states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Dada will go get you a sweater. Stay right here,” he instructs before trailing off.

When he comes back, there's more than just an extra garment in his hand.

“Now later you can play upstairs all you want, but right now,” he speaks while setting down a few colorful-looking books and a box of crayons on the coffee table. “Daddy and I need to watch you and make sure you stay safe,” He then motions for you to move your arms up so he can put the sweatshirt he brought for you on. He carefully moves your arms and head through the holes and then leads you to the coffee table. “You can color as long as you like, angel, just make sure to tell us if you need anything, like water…or juice, okay?”

You nod your head complacently at him while he holds your hand looking down at you.

“Okay-I mean-I-yes…Dada” you fumble before kneeling down on the carpet yourself in front of the variety of coloring books.

You don’t want to color. But–genuinely–what choice do you have? You could protest, but it wouldn’t lead anywhere beneficial.

You scan the playful books in front of you, trying to find some solace in the fact that maybe focusing on this would at least mean less nerve-wracking interactions with…them.

It shouldn't matter–which picture you settle on–with your brain still rattled from before, only you can’t help but feel choosy about the drawing you pick. You flip through the books, dog-earing the ones that pique your interest before settling on a foresty scene that depicts two large sleeping wolves and a little rabbit nestled right in the middle.

For some perplexing reason, the crayon box decides it doesn’t want to be opened by your frail fingers. Steve quickly notices your frustrated struggle with it and instructs you to hand it to him so he can open it for you. You groan at the box and mutter something about how you ‘got it.’

You don’t see his eye squint and eyebrow raise as he watches you fumble with it for a moment longer, but you do feel him taking the box from your hands.

“I don’t want you hurting those precious little fingers of yours now,” He smoothly opens the box and hands it back to you with a pet to your head.

At some point, Bucky notices your tired posture and offers you a pillow to sit on before moving the coffee table closer to the couch so you can rest your back on the cushiony sofa. He moves it effortlessly as if the table wouldn’t break your back if you tried to move it.

You mumble an assenting “thank you daddy” to which Bucky responds. “You’re welcome, sweet girl” with a wink and you withhold from sticking your tongue out at him.

Either one or both of them remain in the room with you for the rest of the evening, checking on you every so often. You attempt to keep your attention on remaining within the lines when you color, but you can’t help the way your unnerved hands still shake, causing you–to your annoyance–to occasionally strike outside the lines.

By the time the sun has long set, and the only thing illuminating the paper in front of you is warm artificial light, you find yourself yawning with your head sideways on the table as you color. Whiffs of savory smells dance through your nose as Bucky has been in the kitchen for the last little bit preparing dinner.

“Getting sleepy babygirl?” Steve asks, peering down at you and your drawings. You shrug your shoulders, unsure of which answer would allow you the most leniency.

“Oh, that one is just perfect,” he remarks while bending over and picking up the forest scene you colored first. It was hidden amongst other drawings that you had shuffled to the side. He holds it up and takes a good look at it. “You did such a good job,” he compliments. “I think this one deserves a place on the fridge” he boasts.

You turn your head back and watch in curiosity as he really does make his way to the kitchen and secures it with a little magnet. He stands back and smiles in satisfaction while you go back to coloring, feigning that you never even noticed the proud expression radiating off his body, and positively pretending that your insides didn’t go soft for a brief moment watching him.

Steve and Bucky chatter while setting the table. You try to tunnel in on their voices but you can’t exactly make out what they’re saying as they speak quite lowly to each other.

Steve makes his way to you and takes your hand to guide you to the table. He sets you in the seat furthest away from the door as they both sit rather closely to you–practically trapping you in. You poke at your otherwise appetizing plate as you have little desire to eat with your stomach still turned in tangled knots.

They both encourage you to eat throughout, but you only manage to get a few bites down. Neither of them look particularly happy with you and your full plate. Nevertheless, they stop pushing after a bit and share a knowing look that you can’t make out the meaning of.

You huff a quiet sigh of relief when they take your plate and start cleaning the kitchen, silently feeling as though you won this trivial round of control.

Bucky catches you from the corner of his eye as you take it upon yourself to get out of your chair. He tenses, preparing to snatch you before you can move until he realizes you’re only going to the living room, opposite of where the front door is. He decides to just watch you for a few moments as you go back to coloring with criss-crossed legs.

Innocent little thing. His naive little doll shading away, having not a clue in your pretty little head of how erroneous it was to make your own decisions like that. It really was much too soon for you to truly understand what consequences will come when trying to think for yourself. He can’t exactly blame you though. His poor little baby had to do it for so long before they found you. It’s probably why you’re benignly coloring away with not an idea in your head of what’s really in store for your life here. Such a sweet, sweet little girl they had. All to themselves. Forever now.

He observes how you ferociously analyze and juxtapose the colors before you, even testing them on other miscellaneous paper before choosing the right one for the job.

He already knows you better than you can even comprehend. He knows you’ve likely already thought you’ve gotten away with it.

“What do you think you’re doing little girl?” Bucky’s scolding voice startles you, causing you to jump a little in your spot. After just a second, he roughly yanks you up by your arm, spinning you around to face him as he holds you. “Did Daddy tell you you could leave the table? Hmm? Did Dada?” he fumes, the sudden escalation in action and tone making you want to just cry.

“I-I-” you fumble, squirming uncomfortably below him. “I thought-”

“Oh I don’t think you were thinking anything in that silly little head of yours,” he chastises while pinching one of your cheeks harshly with his free hand. “And did you really think you could get away with not eating?”

“Ah!-” you fight, struggling against him, confused and disoriented on why he’s suddenly being so harsh when you thought you were off the hook.

“Hey-hey, it’s okay,” you hear Steve speaking up behind him. “Let me talk to her Buck,” he says, allowing Bucky to let go of your arm and cheek. You tearfully rub at your hurt cheek while Steve kneels down to your level. “Sweet girl…remember yesterday when daddy gave you apple juice?” he asks, circling his hand behind your ear and gently cupping the cheek that Bucky previously inflicted harshly. You nod smally, glancing away around the room as you recall the unfond memory of being bottle-fed against your will. “Good, then you should know that little girls need their nutrients. And that means no skipping dinner,” he explains with a kind voice that makes you feel as if he's quite literally talking to a child.

“I-okay…Dada” you add, grateful for Steve at least being gracious enough as to not yell at and pinch you like Bucky just was.

“Good girl,” he smiles at you before telling you to sit tight on the couch while he goes to get your dinner. You sit there, a bit perplexed on how he planned on giving you a meal when you’re pretty sure you saw Bucky scrape the remnants of your food into the trashcan.

Steve returns with no plate in hand and sits a bit away from you, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion until you see it.

You watch in horror as he reveals a milky white bottle that he shakes in his hand while speaking to you.

“Come here,” he beckons, patting his spacious thigh. You grimace at the granule liquid that swirls around in the bottle, not unlike the one Bucky used on you yesterday. If you didn't know better–which you don’t–you’d say it quite literally looks like baby formula.

“Uhm…I just…” you trail off, trying to come up with a reason, any reason not to be literally bottle-fed like you were yesterday. “I’m-I’m really not hungry-my-my stomach hurts,” you reason clumsily, but truthfully as well since the only thing filling your stomach right now is queasiness. Most of it coming from your situation, but the grainy texture swirling around in the bottle certainly doesn’t help your appetite either. “And-and I can just eat the other stuff,” you add frantically while looking back to the kitchen and wringing your hands.

“Now this is going to help my sweet girl feel a lot better and sleep real tight,” Steve remarks, completely ignoring your words and requests.

“I-I said I'm not hungry.” you say a bit louder, but with a mild tone as to not sound too combative.

“And I said this will help you sleep,” he asserts while dabbing the tip of the bottle on his wrist. “Now come sit on Dada’s lap,” he demands while patting his thigh again. You shake your head while subtly scooting away from him.

“Mmm-mmm” you hum a no while sliding back even further. “Please, I don’t wan-”

“Did Dada ask what you wanted?” he cuts you off with a cock to his head at you. “No,” he shakes his head, answering his own question patronizingly. “I didn’t. You don’t get to decide what’s good for you. Only Daddy and I know that. Now I won’t ask again. Come here. Now.” he insists sternly. You debate quickly in your head, weighing out your limited options. When you still sit there not moving an inch, Steve sighs and reaches for you. He grabs your arm and pulls you towards him.

“No!” you say in response to the action. He’s not necessarily yanking or being particularly rough, but without thinking, you push back at him, your free hand overshooting and accidentally hitting his shoulder. Of course, it’s like you’ve hit a brick wall, the small action hurting your wrist much more than it likely hurt him at all. But something about it felt…cathartic. And something inside you just…snaps.

You had played nice all day, letting them hold you, touch you, kiss you. Hell–you even sat on the floor for hours and colored while wearing a onesie. And now he wanted to bottle feed you actual formula. You had to draw the line.

You couldn’t give in. The silent promise you made to yourself earlier rings in your head. You weren’t going to drink this stupid bottle.

Steve still has you in his grasp and is pulling you closer to him so that you can be in his lap. Only, you take this opportunity to fight. Hard.

With all the strength you have, you wrench yourself back. Steve quickly encapsulates both your hands, making you feel as though you’ll sooner break your own wrists before you ever successfully free yourself from his grip. You take it upon yourself to switch strategies, maneuvering yourself into a position where you just start kicking at him feverishly. It felt childish. It looked childish. But you didn’t care right now. You weren’t going to play along any longer.

You realize halfway through your nonsensical thrashing fit that Steve is likely just letting you play this out before he decides he’s had enough. He decisively stands up, dragging your combative form with him as he roughly swings you up to throw you over his shoulder. You still fight him, your flailing is joined with nonsensical shrieks as you lash out on him physically and verbally. Steve holds you down atop him firmly while hauling you upstairs. Before you realize it, you’re roughly tossed down into a mattress. The otherwise compliant spread hurts you on impact from the height you fall from. Your swirling vision from being upside down and lack of oxygen in your lungs from screaming leaves you disoriented until your dazed eyes focus on structured parallel bars.

Steve’s thrown you into the very crib he showed you just hours ago.

“That’s just for when you’re feeling extra little,”

You instantly try to stand up only for Steve to effortlessly push you back down, sending you to roughly bounce on your bottom. You clumsily try to regain your balance and breath while Steve reaches for something besides the crib. Before you know it, Steve’s grabbed both your hands and starts heatedly tying them together. Tightly. He ensnares your fingers together and weaves the rope around every inch of your digits up to the middle of your forearm, completely restraining the hands that fought him.

You try getting up again only to find it’s surprisingly hard to move with your hands bound in front of you.

He mutters to you something about ‘not moving’ while making his way to the end of the crib. He abrasively yanks both of your legs down to the edge of the caged mattress and begins tying those together too. You flail hopelessly, hurling unkind words at him while he secures your ankles to the bars, completely immobilizing the legs that were just unabashedly kicking at him.

When you finally catch a glimpse of Steve’s face, his expression is unforgiving. Furrowed eyebrows highlight his intense dark focus as veined arms secure you to the crib.

Steve straightens himself up and towers over you from beside the crib. He just watches you until you decide to give up on fighting, realizing you can’t free yourself from your binds. Your anger slowly turns to just pure sorrow, as you find yourself crying hot tears into your already burning face. You murmur pointless cries asking over and over again to just be let go…

“Angel…” Steve says softly, his features appearing less angered now, but still unhappy nonetheless. “I’m going to give you one more chance,” he kneels down, leveling himself with you from outside your confines. He reaches through the bars and caresses your rope-covered hands. “If you do what Dada says, then I might go easy on your punishment,” he slides his hands up, open-palmed, slowly inching his way to your face. He lingers on your throat for a moment too long before laying his hand across your cheek. “But that’s only if you stop being a bad girl…is that what you want?” he asks patronizingly, with a cock to his head, faux sympathy lining his tone. “You want Dada to treat you like a bad girl?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, heavy tears pitifully falling as Steve watches you. He doesn’t catch them as he awaits your answer that doesn’t come.

He then tries to give you the bottle from before again but you only resist. Shaking your head and crying profusely while mumbling sorrowful nonsense.

Steve sighs, and hangs his head. He doesn’t enjoy seeing you like this. He wants to hear you laugh. The same laugh he heard over anything else the first night he found you. He wants to see you smile. The same way you beamed at him that night he helped you find your way back. He wants to draw you close when you fall asleep next to him. The same way he’s watched you fall asleep all by yourself for months. He wants to replace the teeny little thumb you always stick in your mouth when you think no one is watching with his. He knows you want this. He knows you need this.

But it’s obvious his poor girl just doesn’t understand that yet.

Steve knows babies have a hard time listening when throwing tantrums anyway...

For now, if you won’t listen, he’ll just have to show you.

“My sweet girl…” Steve grabs your face, turning it towards him. “You just won’t learn unless Dada shows you, huh?” he releases your face dismissively and stands up.

“If you want to act out…” he speaks while reaching across the crib above you,

“and think you’re a big girl…” he lifts something weighty that’s attached to the top of the crib,

“that’s fine,” parallel bars intrude your vision of Steve from above you,

“But this is what happens when you act like a bad girl.” Steve’s voice turns more ireful with every word he speaks, as he works his way around the crib, latching multiple locks together that you hadn't noticed before with increasingly aggressive force.

“You get treated like one. Bad girls get left all alone by themselves without Dada. If you really want Dada to let you go. Fine. You’ll stay right here until you understand what it means to listen.” he slams the last latch shut.

You barely have time to process his words while your wobbly vision interprets what’s happening above you. By the time you comprehend that there’s a top to this ‘crib’ that Steve has locked you in, he’s already left the room, truly isolating you.

Anguished sobs that were falling on deaf ears during Steve’s spiel to you now meet the equally deaf silence of the room itself.

The only sound that accompanies you now is your own cries, echoing back pitifully to you from the horizontal bars above…

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gabessquishytum · 5 months

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I've been thinking a lot about medieval longbowman Hob,,, and how a modern alternative might be gymbro Hob,,, the kind of gymbro who bulks and gets really strong and is just an absolute unit,,, and so i dug up this ole gym dreamling encounter from discord, and here we are!! The Hob I'm picturing here is an unholy amalgamation of comics!Hob in 1389, and Ferdie. So make of that what you will!

Fuckin' Resolutions

Dream is not the kind of person who makes New Year's resolutions. He's the kind of person who prefers to repeat his mistakes over and over and then yell at everyone who says “I told you so!” But. Dream is now in possession of a membership to his local gym, courtesy of his least favourite sibling. They obviously thought it would be a funny joke. Dream is out to prove them wrong.

And so, kitted out in a brand new pair of shorts (black) and a tank top (also black), as well as new trainers (you guessed it: black), he enters the gym. It is a new year. He can do new things. Maybe going to the gym will be the solution to the puzzling mess that is his life.

Naturally, Dream chooses the foyer area – what seems to be a writhing mass of people to his anxious eyes – in which to embarrass himself.

Scanning the various arrows pointing off in different directions, hoping that one of them might tell him where to go, he loses concentration. It really is quite overwhelming, with a myriad of classes, workout areas, lockers, and even a small snack bar. Dream looks around, wildly lost. And he walks right into something very warm, and very soft.

"Woah!" The warm and soft something says. "You okay there?"

Dream pulls himself backwards like he's been burned. In front of him stands a broad, smiling man, about the same height as himself. He's rather sweaty, and he smells… good.

Dream mumbles something about a yoga class that sounds nonsensical even to his own ears, but the man nods along seriously. He's entirely focused on Dream’s words, and he seems quite absentminded as he pulls the hem of his t-shirt up and uses it to wipe the sweat from his nose.

Dream’s mumbling trails off to a complete stop and he just gazes straight ahead. Hiding beneath the man's inconspicuous t-shirt was, apparently, the most gorgeous, soft, godly stomach. It bounces slightly once freed from the fabric. The rest of his torso is just as thick, and Dream even catches sight of his pecs peeking out. They're the kind of muscley-soft that should absolutely be illegal, if only for the sake of Dream’s sanity. And hairy, too. From his chest to the waistband of his shorts, thick body hair curls lovingly across his skin. It glistens faintly under the bright lighting, drops of sweat looking more like the golden highlights in a painting

The guy raises an eyebrow as Dream continues to stare. "Whoops! T-shirt kind of hides all that, right? Sometimes it's a surprise for me too!"

And what a wonderful surprise, Dream thinks. The guy is still giving him a free view of his belly, apparently unbothered by Dream’s gawping mouth. He can't stop looking at the little spills lovehandle over the waistband of the man's shorts. The man angles himself one way, then the other, like he's showing himself off. He even flexes his chest.

"I'm sorry." Dream stutters. "I think I may be having some kind of sexual awakening?"

The guy laughs – nearly making Dream faint outright as he watches the gentle shaking of his stomach. "You're very sweet. I really didn't mean to flash you like that." Tragically, he pulls the t-shirt down again. But he does offer Dream his hand in recompense.

"I'm Hob. Would it be okay if I show you the way to the yoga class?"

Dream nods dumbly. He isn't so much shaking Hob’s hand as he is holding it. The t-shirt tents over his belly, but the rest of him is still sturdily visible. Thickly muscular arms and thighs, wide shoulders, a warmly smiling mouth. Dream might as well have met Apollo the sun god himself in the middle of the gym. This man is certainly more magnificent than any classical figure.

"I'm Dream." He says, meekly. Hob has started walking, pulling him along by the hand. Dream takes one devastating glance at his arse (it's right in front of him!) and wonders hysterically whether his face is as bright red as it feels. He's never thought to describe another man's arse as pendulous before, but there's something hypnotic in the swaying motion created by all that soft flesh.

Hob turns and offers him another bright smile. "Yes, you are. Very dreamy." He allows Dream to come up right alongside him, and drops his voice to a theatrical whisper. "You know, cute boys at the gym don't usually look at me like that. Not unless they think I'm not looking, anyway."

Dream makes a disbelieving noise.

"I know! They don't know what they're missing. Once you come over to the dark side, you never go back." Hob continues, with a jaunty wink. And Dream feels the tips of his ears begin to sizzle. He must be bright red from head to toe, surely. He squeezes Hob’s hand (which he still, incomprehensibly, holding) in an attempt to convey his agreement. Hob, for whatever reason, squeezes back.

"Well, here we are. Yoga class is in there." They come to stop somewhere along a corridor. Dream hasn't been paying attention and has no idea how he'll find his way out of the building.

"Thank you." He manages, and clears his throat. "I am sorry. If my staring was in any way offensive."

Hob’s eyes twinkle and he plucks at the front of his t-shirt idly, pulling it up an inch or two. Dream gets a glimpse of soft lower belly for his troubles. "Not at all. Feel free to objectify me any time." He leans close, and bumps Dream gently with his hip. "In fact. I'll be very disappointed if you don't have at least three more sexual awakenings when you watch me doing downward dog."

And with that, he enters the yoga class, leaving Dream to stumble after him.

The yoga teacher is a very nice woman called Rachel, and there are at least a dozen people in the class. Dream actually feels quite comfortable hiding towards the back of them. Hob is a row in front of him, and he winks over his shoulder. He's absolutely divine to look at from behind – everything is taunt and muscular from his shoulders to his calves. Except for his arse, which carries a healthy load of fat. Dream has spent most of his life looking at men with lustful intent, but never has he seen a man like Hob. This is a man who could draw a longbow, or heft a battleaxe. He could scoop Dream over his shoulder and carry him like a bag of flour, should the need arise.

And, as it turns out, he is devastatingly flexible. It seems almost unfair. Somewhere along the line, Dream just finds himself staring, transfixed, as Hob contorts into pose after pose. His thighs flex, his shoulders remain steady as ever, and Dream gets another lovely little peep of those sweet lovehandles. After the class, Rachel praises Dream for knowing his limits and not pushing himself too hard. He doesn't have the heart to explain to her why he spent most of class standing with his mouth half open.

Hob is waiting by the door when Dream scurries away from the other class attendees, with his yoga mat strategically positioned in front of his crotch. He smirks, and once again pulls his t-shirt up to wipe his face. He's not even sweating, particularly.

Dream is sweating. A lot.

“I don't suppose you'd fancy a little post-workout drink? You can get a decent protein shake around here.” Hob quirks an eyebrow upwards. “Or I could just help you find the showers?”

“Showers.” Dream breathes out, clutching his mat tighter. “Please. I think you need to make up for the absolute mess you've made of me, this afternoon.”

Hob looks very pleased with himself indeed, and he wraps his arm around Dream’s waist. It's an intimate gesture that makes Dream throb from head to toe. “I may make a mess, but I always clean up after myself.” Hob murmurs.

Dream's hand brushes Hob’s arse is passing as they start walking… and he can really only hope that Hob is telling the truth about cleaning up. If only for the sake of his brand new shorts…

#the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #nsft #i havent posted anything like a fic for a bit so i hope this makes up for it!

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64sue · 6 months

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𝑨 𝒃𝒐𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒊𝒕 | 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝑵𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒔

pairing: Lando Norris × fem reader/!girlfriend

summary: after a long race weekend you knew that Lando needed some rest but also wanted to celebrate his podium, you exactly knew how to do this...

warnings!: cute names (baby, honey stuff), soft smut I guess, tried to made smut okey?, unprotected sex

author note: !eng is not my first language! sorry for all mistakes, it's also my first fanfic, hope you'll enjoy this, love u all <3

-------------

After the race atmosphere was awesome, Max collected another win in 2023 season and Lando with Charles were also on podium. You walked straight there with mechanics and engineers from McLaren team, to watch your boyfriend stands on the second place. You were watching him when he did his special spraying technique and had fun with Max and Charles. P2 in his home race - Silverstone, that was something and you want to enjoy this with him.

After the media pen, you and Lando went towards to McLaren motorhome, where were Zak, Oscar and rest of the team. They started to congrats Lando his podium in home GP. Zak hugged and congratulated him and when he realised that you stand behind everyone he went towards to you. He put his hand on your shoulder, you jumped under his touch because you didn't expect this, you were busy watching your boyfriend having fun with his team mate and team.

"You must be proud of your boyfriend, didn't you?"- Zak asked looked at his papaya drivers.

"Of course, I'm! Look at him, he is so happy"- you felt lil smile on your face when you looked at him once again.

"I'm the proudest girlfriend now, Oscar also did great today"- you gave Zak a nice smile.

"Yeah that's true, boys get along well and this is very important for the good of the team, they are also great racers" - he smiled to you.

"Ye...- you couldn't finish your sentence because you felt two strong arms wrapped around your waist - that was him, you can feel how you are melting under his touch.

"So you two guys are gossiping about me, right?"- Lando looked at you with a mixture of proud and sneaky.

"Uhh yeah pretty boy, you got us"- you blushed and looked at him with your puppy eyes, you know that it really turns him on...

Lando and you said goodbye to Zak and the team and went towards to his driver room. Lando closed the door, put down his trophy with big No.2 on it. Without a word he went closer to you and gave you massive, warmly and lil sweaty hug. You two stayed like this for a moment, you moved closer to his ear and whisper softly

"I'm so proud of you baby, you did a great job today".

You feel lil smile on his face, he raised his head and gave you gentle kiss on your forehead, you started to smile either when you lost in his beautiful eyes. You was overjoyed that you can enjoy his happiness with him so close. Lando break the silence

"I need to take a quick shower, then we can go back to the hotel" - smiled slightly, you nooded as an agreement.

After 30 minutes, you left Silverstone paddock together. You went to his McLaren 765LT Spider. When you reach the hotel, you met with crowd of fans with papaya caps and shirts, amazing view... When you get off from Lando's McLaren, you waited for him watching him take a photos with his fans and give them autographs. After 5 minutes he took your hand and you went straight to the hotel room.

When you finally entered to your hotel room you went to the bathroom to take a shower and do your daily skin care. You wear black short gym leggings and oversized dark pink shirt. Before left you applicated a colourless but shiny lip gloss. When you left the bathroom you saw Lando just in his grey sweatpants and boxers, standing in the middle of the room, he talked with someone from McLaren. You got an idea.... He stands with his back to you and he didn't hear when you left the bathroom. You waited for him to finish the call leaning against the door frame. You had time to observe your beautiful boyfriend. You could take a look at each inch of him.

Finally when he put the phone down, he suddenly felt warmth around his hips. You hug him from behind as tightly as you could. You loosen your grip so he could turn to you. Lando started to look at you still with a lil shock but with smile on his face. You started to staring into his big beautiful blue eyes, they are so... oh god you lost in them again...

Lando staring into your beautiful face too, tried to look and remember every part of it. Finally your eyes meeting in an electric gaze.

"What did I do to deserve such surprises, hm baby?"- he smirked.

You put your best puppy eyes with quick answer

"My pretty boy always deserves for all the best surprises"- you didn't wait long for the response.

He moved closer to you and close the gap between you in softly and warmly kiss. Lando put his hands on your waist, and you put your hands on back of his neck.

The kiss turned into two tongues fight. Lando grabbed your waist and you wrapped your legs on his hips. Your hands moved into his dark brown curls, you love to touch them this way. He break the kiss to take a breath and looking straight to your eyes, at the same time he walked towards the bed. He tasted so good, you had no idea how bad you needed this.

Lando gently pushed you into bed. He walked on the top of you this way you were between his legs. Lan closed the gap between your lips again, this time with more dominant kiss and placed his hand on your cheek.

-------------

His other hand found way under your shirt and he started to play with your boobie and nipple. You moaned into his mouth during the kiss with a pleasure, you can feel how bad you are melting under his touch.

Lando moved down to your neck placed a gentle kisses on them. Still playing with your nipple, he started to make on your neck some hickeys, you moaned but louder this time. You put your hands into his brown fluffy curls and felt you getting wet. In the same time Lan squeezed your boobie and lifted his head so he could look at you, focusing your full attention on him. You nodded with agreement, in one smooth move he took off your shirt and started to suck your nipple.

"Lan pleaaaase baby please"- you moaned.

He lifted his head to look at you, moved closer to your ear and whisper

"Tell me baby, what you want me to do to you", he said with this his sassy gaze.

He started to place more hickeys but this time on your soft boobies.

"Fuck me Lan, fuck me baby pleaseee".

You felt a lil smile on his face. Then you felt warm lips on yours and in the same time Lando started to rip you from your gym pants and underwear. He moved his strong arm higher and higher up your thigh. Your needy pussy were completely wet now. He lowered his head.

"Lan pleaa..."- you begged him but you weren't able to finish when you felt his tongue against your clit. You moaned loudly and threw your head back. Lan licked and tasted every inch of you and you two enjoyed this.

"Lan I'm so closee"- you moaned.

He slow down and gave you a few kisses on your wet pussy.

"Beg me baby, beg me how bad you want to come, come for me"- he smirked with proud. You did exactly what he wanted.

"Please pretty boy please, let me come"

You moaned so loud when he put his two fingers into your wet, needy pussy. You moaned with a pleasure. He started to move them slowly.

"Lan faster, pleeease baby fasteeer", you can't help because you moaned after every word what's even more turned Lando on.

"L Laan I'm c closee" you moaned to him.

He moved his fingers a lil bit faster when you finally came into his fingers. He put out his fingers from you and started to placed gentle kisses on your thighs. Then he went higher and higher and finally he went again to your boobies, started to do circles with his tongue on your nipple. You played with his god damn good curls.

When he lifted his head you put your hands on the back of his head and placed soft kisses on his neck, you can feel him melting under your touch. You whisper to him

"Lan fuck me please, fuck me as hard as you can babyy".

You lifted up and switched the position, now you were on top of Lando, in quick moves you rip off his sweatpants, now he was just in his boxers. He was between you legs so you started to move your hips on his. You can feel how hard he is, Lan grab your hips and moved his arms with them. Now he moaned and begged for more, for entering into you.

"So pretty boy, what do you want me to do to you hmm?"- you decided to play with his own game.

You can't help, in one smooth movement you took off his boxers and now you can see how big and hard he is.

"I.."- he wasn't able to finish when you grabbed his chock in one hand and the other gripped on his hips. You started slowly moved your hand up and down and then quicker and quicker. Lan moaned as you last time and even louder and threw his head back.

"Babyy I I'm cloo ose" he moaned.

"I want you to cum into me babyy".

You didn't have to wait for an answer. Lando grabbed your waist and now he was again on top and you layed on bed. You wrapped your legs around his hips and put your arms around his neck and he finally can entered into you. You two moaned loudly. Lan entered slowly but started to move his hips faster and faster. You enjoy this feeling when his big chock filled perfectly your tight pussy.

"Ha arder L Lan h harder" your words were punctuated by moans. Lando went faster and harder, you were so close to come.

Seconds later you felt his warm cum filled up all over your clit. You came a moment after him. It felt fuckin wonderful. He placed a few kisses on your neck. He put out his wet dick from your pussy and lay down next to you.

When he looked at you he started to smile. You played with his curls and think how perfect they are. You moved closer to him and whisper

"You did so perfect honey, I'm so proud of you"

He smirked and asked - "you mean on track or here, baby?" - asked with this his sassy smile but you fuckin love this and he knew this. You blushed and rolled your eyes

"Both" - you put your sneaky smirk on. You didn't wait long when Lando moved his hand on your cheek and closed the gap in a soft, gentle kiss on your lips.

-------------

246 notes · View notes

gentlebeardsbarngrill · 8 days

Text

05/16/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew Sightings: David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Leslie Jones; Con O'Neill; Trends; National Forest Service; Watch Party Reminders; Fan Spotlights; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika

== David Jenkins ==

As you probably heard, Chaos Dad was really out and about today. He did some polite menacing (regarding Zaslav) Src: Djenkins Twitter

And checked in and sent some love for this artwork of him on Ed's Arm. MerJenks! Great work Lucia! (@ citrussyndicate)

Source: David Jenkin's Twitter

= Rhys Darby =

Rhys and Rosie several days back at the Bag Pipers Ball <3

Source: Heidi Miller's Instagram

== Taika Waititi ==

Taika out and about with some colleagues at Chateau Marmont!

Source: NevakRogers Instagram

Taika and Rita attending Netflix is a Joke Fest

Source: RitaOraHun Instagram

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie Fucking Jones out on The View!

Source: Leslie Jones Instagram

= Con O'Neill =

Quick sighting of Con!

Source: Nick Hayes Instagram

== National Forest Service ==

Many of you probably remember this post from the National Park Service a while back regarding moonglow, well, our friends at the NPS are back at it again with the Rosie Maple Moth! Which one of you is the sneaky NPS social person, hm? Thank you @ adotzimm!

Source: @ adotzimm's Instagram

== Trends ==

Thank you @ NeverLeftPod for catching these trends!

Source: Never Left Podcast on Twitter

== Watch Party Reminders ==

Series Finale of Wrecked today over on the RDF Server.

Wrecked S3 WP May 13-May 17 - 3:30pm PT / 6:30pm ET / 11:30pm BST! If you need access feel free to dm me here at @gentlebeardsbarngrill or @aspirantabby42 on twitter.

= OFMD Season 1 Watch Party =

Next week May 20-26, RDF will be starting up a rewatch of OFMD season 1 with two episodes a day. Time: 3:30pm PT / 6:30pm ET / 11:30pm BST! If you need access feel free to dm me here at @gentlebeardsbarngrill or @aspirantabby42 on twitter.

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Today's cast card is Geoff Dolan, otherwise known as the priest to whom Ed said "I'm the fucking devil". Thanks @melvisik!

Source: @Melvisik's Twitter

= OFMD Colouring Pages =

Thank you @patchworkpiratebear for these new pages! I am going to be sketching.... quite a few things in there.

== MerMay ==

== SpencerDoesArt ==

Our crewmate @ spencerdoesartt on Instagram was kind enough to let me share some of their MerMay Posts-- they've got some pretty cool stuff over there for MerMay, feel free to check the out!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by spencer (@spencerdoesartt)

instagram

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by spencer (@spencerdoesartt)

instagram

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by spencer (@spencerdoesartt)

instagram

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by spencer (@spencerdoesartt)

instagram

= Snejpowa =

This one really struck me today @snejpowa, it's really gorgeous.

Source: SnejPowa's Tumblr

== Love Notes ==

I really wish I had words today Crew. I feel a lot of the tension going on as I'm sure you do too. Things are tough right now, but even within close knit groups we run into struggles sometimes, it gives us a chance to grow.

I hope we all can take the time to regroup and do what we need to for ourselves to feel safe again, and maybe one day everyone will feel more comfortable again, or maybe not. Whatever happens, do what you need to do crew, take care of yourself. If you need to chat let me know. Somewhat related today is @ thelatestkate's new picture with the cute baby otter. Hope you have a good start to the weekend Crew. Sending love.

Source: TheLatestKat's Tumblr

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Gifs Courtesy of @agaywithcoffee and @aplaceofgreatersafety

#ofmd daily recap #ofmd #our flag means death #rhys darby #taika waititi #leslie jones #david jenkins #chaos dad #pirate daddy #watch parties #con o'neill #fuckdavidzaslav #dontstreamonmax

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bluehourbucky · 1 year

Note

Vampire!bucky x innocent!reader. We have a mighty need

Strawberry juice

pairing: vampire!bucky x innocent!reader

warnings: blood / blood sucking / kidnapping/ dark!bucky / non-con use of body for buckys orgasm / release in pants

a/n:I hope you enjoy I tried my best! I'm still new to writing smut and I'm still learning please be nice 🥹 I also wasn't sure if you wanted this to be a dark fic 😅

18+ only

minors do not interact

this is a dark fic if you're not into that please do not read!!!

masterlist / bucky / part 2

/_________________________________________/

You've been working at this coffee shop near your place for 6 months, and you've been loving it. The people are always so nice to you even when you make a mistake, which was so surprising as people used to yell at you at the place you worked before. To be fair, the coffee shops' uniforms were little maid outfits that leave very little to imagination, but to you it never clicked that everyone was nice because of that.

And even the tips were amazing.

You loved your job, it was really fun to talk to people all day and receive compliments, you've never heard so many compliments in your whole life!

The regular customers always left big tips even when you spilled something on them! You'd be apologising, then helping them clean up the mess and you'd feel so bad, but they would just reply with a smile and give you double the price of the coffee you'd spilled. When you tried to deny the tip they'd just put it in the pocket of your outfit.

Recently, a new customer started coming, and he was very pretty. You've started to wait for him to show up all day, you even changed shifts since he usually comes an hour before closing.

The man usually sits in the far back corner of the shop, he sits in a place that has the best view of the whole place. He never finishes his tea or coffee just sits there and reads.

You thought he looked lonely and you've really wanted to start a conversation with him, but the opportunity never rose until now.

The place was empty, only you and the man are left, you've got another half an hour before closing and you've already done everything. So you gather the courage to go talk to him. Maybe you want him to pay attention to you because he's the only one who doesn't, and you're not used to being ignored and not called pretty.

"Hi."

your heart stops when the man looks straight into your eyes, the intense blue of his eyes making your legs shake.

"Hi? Is there a problem, you're still open right?"

you try so hard to break the eye contact but something won't let you, it's like you're stuck.

"Oh there's no problem just wanted to ask if everything was okay?" you feel out of breath by the time you finish your sentence.

"Oh, everything is great. Don't worry about me, but if I could ask for your company just for a few minutes?"

You can't deny a lonely man, he just needed a friend you were right! So you smile and sit across from him.

"What are you reading?"

And that's how you two started hanging out every evening. He'd read his book and you'd ask questions, sometimes you would get lost in your own world by talking about your day or the flowers you saw in the flowershop and he wouldn't even get to say anything.

You'd try to apologise but he'd always say that he enjoyed listening to you.

Bucky is a patient man, he'd like to think he is but he was getting impatient and hungry. He'd been watching you since the first day you've started working at the coffee shop. The sweet smell of you had brought him to the place. He'd never been fond of coffee even when he was able drink it.

Usually, when he smelled the delicious food, he'd eat it as soon as possible, but with you, he decided he'd rather play. Steve always told him not to play with food, but you were just irresistible.

About a month ago, you finally talked to him and just never stopped. He'd started to wait for you to close up since there's a lot of creepy men around, he would know.

But he was getting very hungry, he's spent too much time with you that he'd forgotten to eat and that's all he could ever think about when he was with you.

Bucky is ready to have the most delicious meal of his not life.

"I'm ready!"

He turns and smiles at you, he said he'd wait for you to finish and walk you all the way home, you thanked him over and over.

"Thank you so much! I get really scared when I'm walking alone." you say as you lock the door and check twice if you did it properly.

You grab his arm and walk with him happily, you don't even notice he'd lead you to an alleyway.

"Whe-"

Bucky pushes you against the brick wall his hand on the back of your head, he can't let any blood go to waste. The whole reason he's here with you in the first place. He tasted the rarest blood type and he'd tasted virgin blood too, but never two in one, he knows he's about to have the tastiest meal.

His nose runs up and down your neck, pressing it to the most prominent vein.

"You smell so good pretty girl."

you giggle when his stubble tickles your neck.

"It's my favorite strawberry perfume." you say and Bucky laughs.

"Is that so?"

"Yes I love strawberry!"

Oh that's precious, Bucky thinks, you have so much in common with strawberries, both are sweet and when you bite into them red juice comes out.

"Well, strawberries are my favourite too, you're my favourite one."

You blush and put your hands on Buckys shoulders, he's caged you between him and the wall.

"You're not scared little one?"

"Why would I be scared, that's silly we're friends!"

Bucky smirks.

"That's right we are friends. You're gonna be a good girl for me." It's not a question it's a statement.

"You're poking me." you try to push him off you a little. Bucky might have gotten too excited to have you for himself. His buldge was indeed pressed against your stomach.

"Is that so?" He mocks and rolls his hips which grants him access to your tongue when you whined and opened your mouth. He forces his tongue into your mouth and starts kissing you. Nothing about the kiss is gentle but he's enjoying it, your lip starts to bleed when his fangs cut it. He sucks on it and moans at the taste.

Oh the taste is just incredible and Bucky decides that he will keep you. He won't drain you he'll just take you home and snack on you whenever he feels like it.

"Stop, please." you cry out but Bucky is too strong and you can't even move an inch.

"Don't worry, sweet girl I won't kill you you're safe with me."

He grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him, he wasn't planning to hypnotise you to obey him but he didn't really want you to become fussy, that would be a disaster..... imagine if any drop of your precious blood spilled - not allowed.

"Okay."

"Good girl."

Bucky picks you up completely off the floor, putting your legs around his waist so his croch is exactly on your clothed pussy. Instead of biting your neck he picks up your arm and bites into your forearm.

The taste overwhelmed him, it's so intense like nothing he'd ever tasted before - humans would probably describe it as biting into a lava chocolate cake when all the filling just drips out.

Bucky feeds off of you slowly, but his thrusts are fast and unreserved, and the moment he stops sucking you, Bucky releases his load into his pants and rides out his orgasm.

"See, little one I just took a little."

Bucky caresses your cheek and your eyes are barely open, you're on the verge of passing out.

"Mhm." you whimper when Bucky let's you down for a second before picking you up again, princess style, he sets your head on his shoulder and you instantly fall asleep.

"Master, I told you not to play with your food."

Steve, Buckys familiar and friend says from the beginning of the alleyway.

"I know, I'm taking this one with me couldn't take all of it at once, she filled me up with just a few drops." Bucky says feeling surprisingly very full after taking maybe 200ml and usually he needs a lot more.

"I'll see you at home!"

Bucky says before flying away.

Steve curses under his breath he always needs to walk.

You wake up in an unfamiliar room and look around, your eyes take bit to get used to the dark around you.

"I see you're awake, precious."

"Where am I?"

"Your new home of course!"

_________________________________________

[THE END]

#bucky x reader #vampire!bucky #vampire!bucky x innocent!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky masterlist #dark!bucky barnes x reader #marvel fic

409 notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Note

Hello hello - please feel free to ignore if it's not your jam but I'm in love with future fic rockstar eddie/ non famous steve being sickeningly in love - especially outsiders getting jealous when eddie only has eyes for steve!

I got two rock star Eddie requests in a row so I had to break them up a little. I love the idea of Steve like surviving some of the worst shit to happen and then absolutely not able to deal with the crowd at a concert. He is clearly traumatized by what happened, and has to face his fears a bit, and it doesn't go so well. This could have been kind of a time skip thing, but I decided to make Steve suffer more because I'm suffering and that's just how the world turns. Thank you for this one! - Mickala ❤️

--------------------------------------------------

Steve’s favorite part of going on tour with Eddie was being able to watch soundcheck.

Eddie always put on a great show, and Steve watched from the side of the stage as often as he could, but he went to soundcheck because it felt more intimate.

He could stare openly, not hide the fact that he was one hip thrust away from drooling all over the floor.

The guys in the band just rolled their eyes, used to it for the last several years since Steve started coming with them.

They were all perpetually single, hooking up in some cities, but mostly just enjoying the ride as a group.

Steve could admit though, he was hesitant to go to actual shows, and that was the main reason he never missed soundcheck.

About a year ago, Steve was front row at a show, trying his best to just blend in. It was easier that way. But sometimes blending in wasn’t good enough, not for the hardcore groupies.

They recognized him, and while they didn’t know he was Eddie’s boyfriend, they knew he was special to the band in some way. They quickly got too close, much too close for Steve’s comfort, even for general admission at a metal concert. They crowded him.

He really thought they were just being overly friendly, trying to get backstage, tried to just suck it up and deal with it for the remainder of the show.

But then Eddie did his song. The song he wrote for Steve. He always sang to Steve, in the subtlest way he possibly could, which wasn’t very subtle at all.

He looked towards Steve the entire time. He would smile at him, sometimes even find his way to the side of the stage and blow him a kiss. With a crowd around, it would be nearly impossible for anyone to know who he was blowing a kiss to.

But for this particular show, the groupies surrounding him were almost completely blocking his view. If Eddie wasn’t elevated on stage, he wouldn’t have even been able to see the top of his head.

He knew Eddie must have seen him in the group, must have noticed his predicament.

The music stopped. Dead silence in a metal concert was never a good sign.

“Everyone take a step away from the person you’re closest to. Everyone’s pushing too much.”

Some people listened, but not the groupies surrounding Steve.

“If everyone in the front doesn’t take a couple steps back, I leave. Security will clear this place out, and we never come back. Got it?”

Steve felt the groupies to his left start inching away, and hoped the rest would follow.

Eddie was now standing right in front of Steve. He looked concerned, and Steve knew he probably looked a bit panicked.

“Stevie, give me a thumbs up if you’re good.”

Steve wanted to, he wanted the show to go on, and make this just a distant memory of one of his least favorite Corroded Coffin shows.

But the group around him didn’t seem to like the attention on Steve. Not when they wanted attention on them.

Plus, his arms were pretty much glued to his sides from how close everyone was to him, so even if he was feeling okay with the situation, he had no way to put his thumb up.

“Alright, sorry everyone. Some of you can’t listen, now all of you suffer, just like school. I need security to the front, my left now.”

The crowd was pissed, but once Steve was pulled from the crowd by security and set up on the stage, Eddie pulling him backstage, the rest of the guys following, almost as concerned.

Eddie never stopped a show, never canceled one, never postponed one, never gave less than 150% on stage every night. If he was doing this, it was for a good reason.

Once everything was explained, Eddie had security find out who it was near Steve, and make sure they got banned from all of his shows.

But they were long gone, and Steve obviously didn’t know their names, barely could have picked them out of a lineup.

He decided to stop watching shows from anywhere but backstage, and then it became only watching soundcheck.

But he and Eddie kind of loved that, loved having their moments without having to hide.

The guys would roll their eyes and complain, but they didn’t mean it. They were just happy to have some decent food waiting in leftover containers for them when they got back to the buses or hotels because Steve cooked while they performed.

Eddie would run through a few of the songs, always including Steve’s song even though he didn’t have to.

The venue for tonight was smaller than most of the rest of this tour, intended to be that way so they could go back to their “roots” and have a more intimate setting with fans.

Eddie asked if Steve would want to watch this one, maybe hang out by security at the front of the stage.

Initially, he said no. But Eddie seemed disappointed, even though he insisted he understood and he didn’t want Steve to be uncomfortable, and Steve didn’t want him to be disappointed.

So the day of the show, while watching soundcheck from a chair on stage, he yelled, “Got a ticket for me, big boy?”

He could do this for Eddie. It wouldn’t even be that many people in the crowd, and the chances of the same thing happening again were slim to none.

He’d been through worse.

The way Eddie’s face lit up at his words, his excited bouncing causing his guitar to sway around him.

‘I always got a ticket for you, sweetheart.”

One hour before the show, the guys usually ignored visitors, choosing to use their time to get hydrated and snack, sometimes smoke a bit if they weren’t focused right.

Steve was rarely part of this, even he knew this was a band thing he shouldn’t force himself into.

But tonight, Eddie used the hour before the show to make sure he was taken to a good spot by the stage with security, had a water bottle and granola bar so he wouldn’t have to leave.

Since there was no one but security there, Eddie planted a quick kiss to his forehead before walking away.

“Enjoy the show, Stevie!”

“Always do, Eds!”

The crowd started trickling in only a few minutes later, excitedly getting up to the barricade, talking amongst themselves about the set list. A few people were next to him, but there was enough space that he didn’t feel worried.

He relaxed a bit, taking a few sips of water and smiling at the security guard.

As more people came in, they crowded behind him and next to him. He was somewhat pushed further to the side, but he didn’t mind. He wanted fans to get a great experience, and if that meant he only saw some of the stage, he could live with that.

The lights went down, and he felt a few people crowd in closer to him.

It was fine.

Until the guys took the stage, Eddie immediately bouncing over to his microphone stand and starting on the first song.

The crowd moved in more.

It couldn’t be possible that he was being shoved between people, but he was.

The room was closing in, literally, around him, and he had no idea what to do. The security guard was watching the front row closest to the band, not paying attention to the way Steve had been drawn into the crowd.

He took a deep breath.

Then someone yelled in his ear.

“Hey! You’re Steve right? Like, with the band?”

He managed to nod, but he didn’t want to have a conversation. This was a concert, a loud one. It wasn’t really the time to talk.

But the guy didn’t stop.

“Are you like an assistant? Or a tech guy?”

Steve shook his head.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Well, you go to all the shows right? What do you do?”

He wasn’t going to stop. Steve had to leave.

But there were now a few people in front of him, and he was completely surrounded by people having the time of their lives.

He just needed the security guard to look his way, he could signal him, and he’d be out.

“They stopped that show for you before. People kind of hated you for a while.”

Okay, Steve was done. He knew people kind of hated him for a while, he hated himself for a while. Hated that his reaction caused a whole 2500 people to miss out on half of a show they paid for.

But he reminded himself, the same way Eddie had for weeks, that it was Eddie’s call to end the show.

Any fans that wanted to blame Steve, could take their blind idolization somewhere else.

“I was there. Actually, right next to you. I doubt you remember me.”

He got that right, he didn’t remember him.

“I told everyone you and Eddie must have something going on if he’s willing to stop a show for you. No one believed me.”

Steve remained silent, his breath coming in short pants. He could see Eddie singing to a group on the opposite end of the stage.

“But that’s what it is, right? You two are together and he’s so whipped he ended a show because you can’t handle a crowd?”

Steve had to go.

The guy was touching him in most places, half of it out of necessity, but some of it not. His hand was wrapped around Steve’s wrist, much too tight for it to be accidental or just to get him to move.

“Let go,” Steve managed to say, loud enough to be heard, but his voice was shaking.

The guy did let go, but he didn’t give him any space.

“My friend fucked him once you know.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

Eddie had slept with two people before he met Steve, and he didn’t even remember their names. One was a guy at the bar in Indy he frequented, celebrating his 18th birthday in a way he regretted the next morning. The other was a girl, admittedly a test of his sexuality and she probably knew it from the way he fumbled around the entire time.

So whichever one of those people was this guy’s friend, clearly they were telling whatever story got them attention from other fans.

“Good for them,” he said, trying to focus on Eddie.

If he focused on Eddie, he’d be okay.

“Eddie promised to call him and never did. Kind of sucks to be left like that.”

Steve knew that too. That in Eddie’s somewhat drunken stupor, he’d gotten his number and said he would call him, but lost the paper at some point and never went back to the bar.

“Happens to the best of us.”

“Yeah, but not to you apparently.”

Steve started pushing forward, desperate to leave.

Eddie was talking to the crowd now, introducing the guys like he always did after the first two songs.

“You’re not even into this music. Why does he like you?”

Well, that’s certainly a question Steve asked himself often. Couldn’t help it, really.

Eddie, especially now, could have anyone he wanted. Any famous person would probably drop whoever they were currently with to have even a moment of Eddie’s attention.

Steve loved Corroded Coffin’s music, he loved the passion they all put into creating it and performing it, loved listening to Eddie at two in the morning furiously scratching down lyric ideas. He loved hearing some of their influences over the years, even going to some shows for Metallica because he knew it meant a lot to Eddie.

But it’s true he wasn’t a huge fan of this kind of music. He liked pop, he liked stuff you heard on any standard radio station driving down the road. He liked being able to dance along to it when he was cooking.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t belong here just the same as anyone else. He did. Anyone could enjoy this band, just as anyone could enjoy any band, even if it didn’t mesh well with their other interests. That’s regardless of the relationship status between them and the lead singer.

So Steve kept pushing forward, doing his best to get out of the crowd, away from this guy who was much larger than he was.

“Where you going? Can’t handle people knowing you aren’t worth his time?”

Steve’s heart was beating fast, so many sweaty bodies pushing against his on his way to the security guard who looked like he was finally noticing what was going on.

“Can’t believe he wrote a song for someone who doesn’t even watch his shows!”

That one hit Steve in the chest, hard.

This guy was why he couldn’t watch Eddie. He wanted to. He would be at every single show if he could.

But clearly that wasn’t in the cards for him.

He could feel bad about that later.

His focus was entirely on getting backstage for now, ignoring the shouts of everyone he was pushing through.

“Dude, you can’t just push to the front!”

“Who do you think you are?”

“Should’ve been here earlier if you wanted front row!”

Steve’s heart was racing, but he was trying to get to the security guard who was coming towards the barricade.

He reached him, but got shoved hard into the barricade.

The guy from earlier had managed to follow him through the crowd and just pushed him. If there were less people around, he would’ve fallen on his face.

He felt the edge of the barricade dig into his ribs, but it was a minor pain compared to things he’s felt before. He just wanted to go.

He stood up straight, took the biggest breath he could, and let the security guard lift him over the barricade.

Somehow Eddie must have seen it, and he immediately stopped playing.

“What’s going on? Stevie?”

Steve held his thumb up, hoping Eddie would continue and he could sneak out back without causing any more of a scene.

But Eddie must have seen the way Steve was hunched over, holding his rib where he’d been pushed into the barricade.

He was immediately on the edge of the stage, asking the security guard to help lift Steve while he pulled him up.

He was honestly too far into a sudden panic attack to even resist.

Eddie’s hands were on his cheeks as soon as he was sitting on the stage, his wide eyes looking over everywhere. The rest of the guys had all come over to see what was going on.

“Stevie, what happened, sweetheart? Are you hurt? Who did this?” He turned to the guys before Steve could even try to answer. “We’re done. Send everyone home.”

Steve was shaking his head. He didn’t want this to happen again, not because of him.

“People will hate me,” he managed to say.

“What? Sweetheart, no they won’t. You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine. Just let me go backstage.”

Eddie was watching him, trying to figure out if he was faking being okay.

He was, and he knew Eddie would see it, and he would cancel the show, and even more people would hate him.

“We’re done. If people hate you for it, they can hate me too.”

The guys all agreed, because they’re the best, and they know they can’t put on a real show without Eddie anyway.

Steve focused on the way Eddie’s hands felt on his face, his neck, his shoulders. He took a few deep breaths, managing to calm down enough to see the lights come on and the tech guys come out to start breaking down.

“Think you can walk or do you need me to carry you? Where does it hurt, love?”

“I’m okay.”

“That doesn’t answer my questions, sweetheart.”

Oh. Guess not.

“I can walk. It’s just my ribs. Not broken.”

“Who did this?”

Steve knew he could probably still find him in the crowd, had managed to glimpse enough of his clothing and face to point him out if he was still inside.

But it wasn’t worth it.

This would continue to happen. As long as people loved Eddie the way they did, as long as they didn’t like Steve, this would happen.

And Steve was okay with it, he had to be. He knew Eddie would take this harder than he did, maybe even the rest of the guys would too.

“Just a guy. He didn’t like that you never called his friend.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed.

“You remember your 18th birthday?”

“Are you kidding me?”

Steve nodded.

“Fuck them. Seriously, fuck him for seriously thinking a one night stand was gonna go anywhere. Jesus Christ.”

Eddie kissed Steve’s forehead, forgetting that there was still a crowd of disappointed fans, though pretty much everything that had just happened made it pretty clear Steve was his boyfriend.

“Let’s go back to the bus, get on our way home. Wayne’s baking you a cake for the birthday you had to celebrate with us. Said there’s no way the cake we got you was as good as his homemade butter cake.”

“He’s right,” Steve smiled.

This is what it came down to, in the end.

Eddie loved him, loved him enough to come out on stage just to make sure he was okay. Eddie loved him enough to bring him home to his family whenever they could, knew Steve needed to see the kids, see Wayne and Robin whenever possible. Eddie loved him enough to make sure he had a special spot for every soundcheck, sang his song to him every time so he could get his own personal show.

Steve loved him enough to deal with the fans hating him, for some fans to hate them all for supporting Eddie despite the fact that he was queer. Steve loved him enough to let Eddie baby him even though he hated it, especially in front of others. Steve loved him enough to watch every soundcheck like it was a sold out arena show.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #corroded coffin #rock star eddie munson #steve is the groupie but also the band mom #this should have been fluffier really #but the end makes up for it #i promise you i didn't even know what i was doing until it happened #and then i kinda liked it so here we are #ficlet #anon request #request

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especiallythewomenandthechildren · 6 months

Text

As If Destiny (part five) 🌹

Part Four🌹

Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

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"I do hope you know that if we are even a minute late, I will be serving detention for the rest of the year."

The slightly anxious tone of Coryo's voice broke you out of your memorized state. You both were in a rush out of his penthouse and you weren't sure how long it would take to get to the academy, but against your best intentions, you had to stop for the flowers.

Something about their white petals and fresh arouma just sucked you in.

With a reluctant sigh, you forced your legs to move.

"But you are the perfect student. You've never been late and every member of the staff loves you."

It was true. There didn't seem to be a single person in the Capital who wasn't charmed with Coriolanus Snow.

But he just shook his head, shifting his eyes forward and quickly pressing the button to allow for pedestrians cross the intersection.

"Everyone but Dean Highbottom."

Oh yes.

He was unfortunately right.

That was indeed the one person who seemed to despise Coryo.

And for seemingly no reason. He always seemed to be able to chide or insult the boy whenever given the chance.

When the signal lit up, the boy in question took your hand to follow him across the street.

"You know, I remember once Highbottom saw us talking after I gave you back your book for Satryia's class. After we parted ways, he pulled me aside and told me to stay away from you. Something about how it didn't end well the first time. Do you have any idea what he was talking about?"

Still holding your hand, even being far from the dangers of the intersection, the boy turns his head to you. His eyes showed just as much confusion as yours did but with a hint of anger.

Dean Highbottom didn't have to like him but who is he to warn you to stay away from him? And what does he mean the first time?

The conversation seemed to trail off there but neither of you minded. You didn't come to this part of the Capital very often so you were lost in fascination and wonder. The city was being rebuilt all around you and you couldn't help but feel giddy.

Coriolanus was lost in watching your reactions. He was feeling a sense of pride to know that he was the one who opened this side of the Capital for you. Not to mention the reason you got some proper sleep.

He was thinking back on your conversation when he nudged your nearby shoulder with his. You looked back to see the tall boy with a little smirk on his lips. You couldn't help but laugh and question the movement.

"Nothing, it's just nice to know you remembered the book."

The comment made a pink tint appear on your cheeks, now very visible in the morning light.

"Of course I remember! I'm sure Satryia would have had my head! You were my knight in shining armor."

Then it was your turn to nudge him back. His pride swelled even more at the memory. To know that he was able to give you something that you not only wanted but needed. Even if it was just a lousy textbook.

It made him feel accomplished.

Within a few strides, the magnificent structure of the Academy came into view and it somehow even looked more beautiful than usual to you.

Everything did after last night.

"Oh! I forgot to give you this!"

He let go of your still clasped hands and grabbed something from his bag. You were surprised by Coryo's confession but even more suprized by the radiant flower in his hand. You couldn't help but gasp at the gesture. You looked up at him with your beautiful eyes, shining up at him with wonder and gratitude. He smiled down at you, heart swelling.

"You seemed so mesmerized so I thought you would like one of your own."

You took the flower gently and thanked him with the most beautiful smile he has ever received.

He was already scheming of ways to see it more often.

"Could you put in my hair?"

Then you were blessed with the most beautiful smile you've seen. He happily agreed and put it in the back of your hair, in the hair tie of your half up, half down style.

Something you've never worn before to the academy but something Coryo reassured you looked good.

Once assured the flower wouldn't fall, the tall boy stepped out from behind you with a satisfied smile.

"You know one of these days I'll show you Grandma'am's rose garden. Maybe even get you a bouquet."

He knew the day when he would be able to bring you full bouquets of her precious roses is far away. But maybe after he won the Plinth Prize, he would get his Grandma'am chocolate, Tigris a new dress, and packets of rose seeds.

Enough so everyday he could give you a fresh flower that you would cherish.

His wishful thinking nearly made him miss your response.

"I think I would fall right then and there if you did Coryo."

You looked at him as you confessed but quickly looker away, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. Heat that only grew more intense as Coriolanus's stare did the same.

He didn't know if you meant you would fall is in pass out or fall as in... well fall. for him.

oh as if he needed anymore motivation to win the coveted Plinth Prize.

Since you never come from this direction, you can't see the usual spot Sejanus would be sitting at when waited for you. Was he getting worried? Your eyes scan the area but couldn't seem to find the brunette anywhere.

But, for better or worse, you found your quite eccentric group of friends.

"Coryo! Y/N!" Clemensia's voice carried through the morning air as you both marched up the stairs.

You both greeted her as well as Arachne, Festus, and Felix upon your arrival. They all seemed happy to see you two (especially you as you are often strolling with Sejanus). But Arachne seemed to be looking you both up and down with a mischievous smirk playing on her colored lips. Nothing new but unnerving nevertheless.

"Y/N, don't you live on the west side of the city? You always come and leave in that direction."

She looked as if she had caught a lamb for the slaughter. You actually did really like her but the girl has so many problems.

Coriolanus had his mask plastered on again but inside he was beginning to panic. He probably could've made a lie on the spot, a skill he has mastered over the years, but he was worried about your reaction.

You were a genuine person and he feared that his lie would be completely exposed on your face. But it seemed he was wrong. Instead of freezing up you laughed at Arachne's comment.

"It's beautiful weather this morning and felt in the mood to take a walk around the city. I just happened to meet up with Coryo at the entrance to campus."

To say the mentioned boy was surprised and relieved would have been an understatement. Not only did you cover up the actual events, you made sure not to let it slip that he walks to the Academy. The illusion that he has a driver like the rest of your peers was still held. Festus then seemed to perk up.

"I still don't understand why in the world you would decide to walk somewhere. We have drivers for a reason."

The others nodded in agreement and you couldn't but help sigh. You have known your friends since as long as you could remember. You have seen them grow up (or the lack there of).

They are still the small scared children who had to burn their picture books for warmth in the Dark Days. They may have physically aged, but you know they never really grew up. Your peers simply hid their fears and insecurities behind their wealth and luxury.

Anything outside of the opulence that surrounded them brought fear and as a result, a great distaste.

That's why Sejanus was so disliked. He was too much of an irregularity. Too other.

As he drifted to your mind, your eyes drifted to the other side of the stairs, shifting your neck to try to get a better view.

"Don't worry, your little side kick is coming up."

Felix let you know with a nod of his head over your shoulder, making you turn around and spotting Sejanus looking confused at you. You smiled in invitation and he began taking a cautious walk up the vast stairs.

Arachne couldn't help but scoff.

"Wonder what little district boy would do without his precious y/n to hold his hand wherever he goes."

Your mouth opened to shoot back a response when Sejanus gave one of his own.

"Maybe you will see where it would hit if it wasn't being held."

He even gave a mocking smile to go with it.

And this is why your two friend groups are separate.

Before any teeth could be knocked out or venom spit, you were quick to grab his arm and pull him away. You look over your shoulder with a rushed and apologetic farewell to the group.

But your eyes met those ever shining blue orbs and gave a private smile. A smile he couldn't help but return.

"What are you smiling at Snow?"

Festus croked. He had frankly forgotten his friends around him, way too lost on your retreating form.

"Well that was entertaining if I must say." He covered up his slip.

The look on Arachne's face begged to differ.

But reassurance came in Clemensia's laugh, followed by Felix.

"I would actually like to see what would happen with you and Plinth in a room with no y/n to mediate Crane." Felix seemed quite entertained with the thought.

The girl just rolled her eyes and began her march into the building, clear irritation radiating off of her.

The rest of the group followed suit and walked into the posh institution.

"Feel bad for whoever unfortunately walks infront of her path" Festus quips, much to the enjoyment and humor of his friends.

The same feeling could not be said for Sejanus.

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"So how worried should I be?" Sejanus's warm brown eyes bore into yours. You crooked your head to its side in confusion.

"Care to explain Sej?"

"I think I'm the one who needs an explanation y/n. You never came to our spot and you were instead with them."

He spit out the word as if it was acid.

"Not to mention the fact that we got a call from your father thanking us for letting you stay with us last night. Would you care to enlighten me how I either missed your presence the entire night, morning, and ride here or where you actually were."

His tone was harsh but you knew it came from a place of worry. He knew of your sleepless habits and to be informed that you were supposed to be with him but weren't must have been horrifying.

You weren't sure if you should tell him the whole truth about staying with Coriolanus. So you tell him the same thing you told Rhayes, your driver, last night.

"I was with a friend. I'm sorry I worried you Sejanus. I had no idea he called you and made you worry."

He looked at you with a puzzled and slight irritated expression.

"What friend y/n? And if you couldn't stay at your house, you know our door is always open."

You weren't exactly sure why he was so upset at the situation but you felt he deserved some semblance of an answer.

"You guys do enough for me as it is. No- stop don't even try to argue with me on this. Can - can we just drop this?" You sighed, clearly not wanting to continue on this topic.

Sejanus looked the exact opposite, wanting to flesh out every detail. But he noticed your discomfort and let the conversation end there.

You both had been walking around the halls, him not really realizing the path you were taking untill you came to a stop and began looking through your bag.

The kind boy, for what seemed the first time that morning, took in your appearance.

"You look well rested. Back to life." He says it astonished. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"I know! Weird seeing me look like an actual person instead of zombie." You were expecting a witty remark back but you were met with another amazed observation.

"You kept your hair down. And look it has a flower!"

You laughed at his behavior and found your mass pile of somehow pristine papers. You flipped through the pages with apprehension at your work.

"And you finished your paper! What happened to you last night?!"

He just seemed to keep on getting more and more lost. Your smile grew in amusement of his reaction and you both walked into class. Sejanus made his way up to your elevated section of desks while you made your way to your Professor.

Professor Rhaen was a tall and lengthy man who seems more aged than any person of his middle age should be. His pale skin seemed sickly and was scattered with small marks and freckles.

He was bent over his desk, deep into a thick book. You cleared your throat and his eyes snapped up to your slightly timid figure.

"Good morning Professor. I understand that you gave us an extended amount of time for our paper to ensure we properly research. But I fear I got too carried away and seemed to have finished a bit early."

You held up your own thick stack of papers with a humble smile. The man didn't take your papers right away, leaving your hand hanging while he was analyzing.

After a few painfully akward moments, he finally took the stack from your hands. You were going to make your way to seat before he motioned for you to wait.

He was scanning through as you just stood there, in the front of the room and felt quite small. You looked up towards the direction of your desk and saw Sejanus give you a smile and a thumbs up in encouragement.

You smiled back, with a little more reassurance and turned to your professor who seemed to be very focused. The sounds of your classmates coming in was heard as their gazes were felt.

Forever seemed to pass before Professor Rhaen gave you the go ahead to sit down. You gave a giddy sigh of relief before you were stopped by his voice.

"Y/n!" You turned slowly and slightly reluctantly. "

From what I've seen so far, I think I will be nothing less than impressed."

What.

Professor Rhaen does not give compliments. You felt over the moon but gave a polite nod and rushed to your desk.

You didn't realize that Coriolanus and the others had made it to class until you reached the area of your desk. You had to squeeze past the blonde boy and as soon as you sat down, you had to turn behind you.

"Wait you already finished your paper?"

Clemmies pretty face was contorted in baffelment. You just smiled and shrugged. The scoffs of impresment (and intimidation) of Felix, Festus, and Arachne were quite audible even as you turned around.

Sejanus took in your interaction and noticed how neither Clemensia nor Arachne knew of your progress. Something they clearly would have if you stayed at their penthouses last night.

But what was even more puzzling was your shared look with Coriolanus who seemed to have a bit of a smug and proud smile on his face.

Like he knew.

Any questions were caught off by the scratchy voice of the professor. His lecture was not necessarily interesting, but today for the first time in a long time, you were able to be fully focused.

You followed every word and participated whenever you could. You were so engaged with the lesson that you barely realized the pen that landed by your shoes.

Grabbing it in a swift motion, you looked up to see Coriolanus with a smug smirk.

Oh that little-

"See what happens when you get a proper sleep." He teased you, slightly crouched, mirroring your position.

You gave a soft scoff at his comment which only made his expression grow.

"A night of good rest, a compliment from Rhaen, and an intimated Arachne? You're on fire y/n." He whispered.

"Trying to suck up to the new favorite student Snow?" You teased back.

The close proximity of your position allowing for the heat of your breath to be felt on the boys cheeks.

That's the reason for the red on it right?

His devious smirk only expanded, showing a few of his perfect and pearly white teeth. He opened his mouth to fire back his own witty response before he was cut off by a clearly displeased Dean Casca Highbottom.

"Miss Vaun and Mr. Snow."

It seemed that even having the two of your names in the same sentence drained him off all his energy.

"Why am I not surprised. Well whatever it is that you two were discussing, I hope it was more important than your professor's lecture."

The embarrassment of the public scolding and the silence of the room was suffocating.

And he knew it.

He seemed to relish in your discomfort and Coriolanus's annoyance.

His eyes seemed to be coated with a fog as he was lost to his mind and whatever he was thinking. The realization of reality and his intention of the interruption seemed to bring him back to reality.

"Please pack up your things Miss y/n. It is urgent."

Your reaction to his words was panic.

Absolute panic.

Emotion you had to swallow, even as your breathing accelerated. You were shaking as you basically threw your material in your bag, with no care of the impact.

Dean Highbottom had already left the room and was waiting in the hallway by the time you met up with him. You felt nauseous and walked on heavy feet.

Coriolanus could see the unsteady steps you took and wanted nothing more than steady you.

But he could do nothing.

And that's the part he hated most.

He sighed and tried to focus back on the lecture and the notes he was supposed to take. Then he realized you must have taken his pen by accident.

And he was right but you weren't really conscious as you twirled that very same pen in you hands in apprehension.

Something happened to her.

That happened to her.

You both reached the main office and you hoped that all your fears would be resolved. But you looked up to see your father in a state of varying levels of dishevelment. He looked pale, starved, and hollow.

But worst of all were the tears in his eyes and clear stains on his cheek. No.

No.

You felt the world shrink around you as he opened up his palm to reveal a beautiful golden necklace. A necklace that held two rings.

The same necklace that your mother wore without fail.

The one she swore she would never take off till death did her part.

Till death do you part.

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A/N: another part down! I hope you all liked it! I was scared of how it was gonna turn out at first but kinda liked it. I hope you guys saw the desk scene as I imagined it (both you and coryo kinda crouched and close as you whispered). I imagined it as if it was a movie and the shot would be showing your side profiles as you talked in those fancy curved desk things in the movie. Also if things don't make sense, I'm sorry it's 1 am and I have been working on it for hours and I'm sleepy lol! Much love as always!

@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹

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