#this might sound aggressive but that's just how I speak

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Damn does this guy have to do everything in this goddamn house

He gotta house Gwen he gotta build a watch he gotta teach Miles about his powers he gotta leave the watch for Gwen he gotta make some more for the squad he gotta save they relationship

What's next?? He gotta pick up your groceries too? 😭😭 clean your doors and polish your floors? Kill Miguel with his bare hands?

Can my mans relax 😩😩😩 how about we let the girl grow and repair her relationships herself huh?

How about we give Hobie a movie of his own where he can do shit for himself without having to fix other people's nonsense first how's about that is that okay

#Hobie gotta do everything around here #Like nah Gwen is gonna grow as a person #and fix it herself because she's capable and loves Miles #Hobie is gonna mind his Black ass business probably #that's what i think #/lh #this might sound aggressive but that's just how I speak #I'm not joking but like..... 😳😐 #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #gwen stacy #gwen x miles #miles x gwen #gwiles #ghost spider #spider woman #ghostspider #miles morales

[nerdvi]

In the wake of the whole james somerton fiasco and inspired by this post, I wanted to share a few of my um, soft signs, like, orange flags to detect when someone is bullshitting you.

First of all, I am on the spectrum which means 1) I tend to take what people say at face value and 2) I have a strong sense of justice which makes me prone to biases, all of which combined means I am at perpetual risk of swallowing the bullshit.

So, what to do about it? You turn on the critical thinking and pay attention.

As one of my favorite youtubers, Hannah Alonzo, likes to say: "consider the source, remember the motive". Who is talking to you?? What do you know about them?? What biases might they have?? How do they interact with your own biases?? Where are they talking from?? Is it anger?? happinness? boredom?? Also, why are they talking to you? Are they trying to sell you something?? Are they trying to convince you and why?? How do they go about the finantial motivation, if present? If you have, in this case, a white cis gay man talking to you as it he has it the worst of the worst in the world, there's probably some exaggeration and you should start to wonder. There's a good chance he's bullshitting you.

How they talk about women and POC No, no, stay with me. There's a rule I had back when I was dating men: Always beware of how they treat their mother. With the exception of extremes like mama's boys and cases of abuse, how a man treats the woman with whom they have that familial bond is a good indicator of how they are going to treat you. Do they berate her? speak ill of her? are aggressive or controlling? do they dismiss her opinions? Same with creators, and by god I tell you, specially cis male creators, queer or otherwise, always always beware of how they speak of women, how they treat women, how they treat POC. Somerton had a weird vendetta against straight women. It went mostly unnoticed. Then, he was dismissive towards lesbians and other queer women and it was once again overlooked. Then he went ahead and made sinophobic content about genres and cultures he knows NOTHING about. Again, it went unchecked. What I am telling you is IT'S NOT NORMAL. Contempt about women and non white-western cultures is not normal and if someone has them as them as an enemy or a scapegoat, they're probably bullshitting you. Take what they say and fact check it, see for yourself.

If at any point in a video or an essay you find yourself thinking "wait, really??" then it's time to fact check. Is it a bit suspicious?? is your logic telling you that's not quite how this works?? Then take to google, my friend, they might be bullshitting you. At worst, you dodge a fake fact, at best, you learn way too much about a topic you were already interested in.

Beware of the lack of nuance. I can not stress this enough. We all love monochrome, but life and societal issues are never black and white. It's just impossible, there's too many factors to consider. If you are being presented situations or anecdotes as absolute truths, you're probably being bullshitted. If it's too good to be true, it is. If it sounds waaay too convenient, it probably is. A good researcher, a serious investigator, will always have some nuance because they have done the work and checked the sources. If someone provides you 1) no nuance and 2) no sources, THEY'RE BULLSHITTING YOU.

These are the ones I can come up with just of the top of my head, I'm sure there's more and please, add them. Remember that naivité isn't a crime, I'm fairly naive and that's made me distrustful, and these are some of the techniques I've found that help me navigate through a world of information without losing myself.

#james somerton #hbomberguy #plagiarism

[edenavari]

On the Matter of Mirrors

Eddie is still trying to convince Steve he and Nancy are made for each other. It comes up, like, everytime they hang out, which is all the time, because Steve couldn’t stay away if he wanted to. He doesn’t, but he also wishes Eddie would quit trying to set him up with someone else. 

‘Cause, like, here’s the thing. Steve likes girls. He also, he realized sometime after Robin came out to him, quite likes boys. He likes Eddie. Like… Really likes him. Practices pick-up lines in front of the mirror kind of like. Wears a little more black and tousles his hair just right to give himself a subversive edge he never used to have, just the right amount to trigger a subconscious response without appearing to be tweaking his fashion sense at all. Has mastered the art of wearing eyeliner without looking like he’s wearing it, and it took him a fucking while to work up the nerve to go out like that, not that anyone but Robin noticed. 

But Eddie just will not drop the Nancy case, no matter how many times Steve tries to stir the conversation away from her, and between his budding crush and the crushing fear that it’s never gonna be anything but one-sided, between the slightest of sore spots Steve still sports about the way things with Nancy ended in the first place and the bitter edge of never managing for something to start with Eddie after weeks of efforts, it’s beginning to grate, right? 

“So what’s the problem?” Eddie insists, bounding circles around Steve like an eager puppy, and something in Steve’s ribcage snaps. 

They’re in Steve’s room studying when it comes up once a-fucking-gain. Eddie is taking accelerated summer classes so he can finally graduate by September, and by some inexplicable fuckery of fate, despite Steve’s own dirt poor records, he’s turning out to be a decent tutor. Something about Eddie managing to focus in a way a classroom environment never allowed him to. Maybe because most teachers and over half the student body were openly hostile at worst and aggressively ignoring Eddie at best, all because of his last name or his tattoos or his loud brassy cheek.

All the same, Eddie does get distracted fairly easily, and an hour in, he’s bounced off the bed and started rattling reasons Nancy Wheeler is definitely Steve Harrington’s soulmate. Steve groans noncommittally, gets up to grab his water from the desk and takes a long swallow as Eddie keeps needling him. 

“You’re the problem, Eddie,” he all but snarls, when he really meant it to come out exasperated at worst.

He snarls, though, and Eddie stiffens, his eyes going cold and hurt and the corner of his mouth turned down in anger. 

“Right,” he says, and it sounds so casual Steve thinks he won’t make a big deal of his tone after all. Fool’s hope. “I’ll get out of your perfect hair, then,” Eddie spits out as he makes for the door, only Steve stands in his way, hands up in surrender. 

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” he starts. 

“No, you’re right, it’s none of my business,” Eddie interrupts, but he steps back, gesturing wildly as he speaks. “It’s not like we’re even friends, you just got saddled with me because of Dustin. We saved the world together? Big deal! My involvement was incidental, really, more of an inconvenience than any kind of help. Why would you want my opinion, of all people’s, right? Even by this point. Get out of my way, I’ll quit stepping on your toes. Go on!”

“I don’t want you to go, Eddie,” Steve tries again. 

“Just want me to shut up, is that it? Not really my strong suit, you might have noticed.”

Steve can’t help smiling. “I have noticed.”

It only seems to rile Eddie up even more, throwing his hands out and making to step around Steve again. “Man, what do you want from me?”

“Is this allowed?” he breathes out, extending the last word beyond its scope. 

Which puts him within reaching distance of Steve, who grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and presses him, careful not to jostle him too bad but firm enough to counter his manic strength, against the wall. He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything, just presses a touch too close, lets himself imagine that he’s going to close the distance entirely, cocks his head and licks his lips and hangs there in a way he hopes spells it out for Eddie without inducing any kind of panic. 

Eddie, hands still up at shoulder height, lets out a little huff close to a whimper when his back hits the wall, bracing himself for a hit that would never come, and maybe some part of him knows this, because he doesn’t look scared or angry anymore, just kind of confused with a side of grief, and it doesn’t take two seconds for him to start to look intrigued, maybe even, if Steve allows himself a little optimism, interested. 

His lips part on a sharp inhale, and they’re close enough to smell each other’s skin, and Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s mouth, a little watery and out of focus, edging forward in a way that could just be a twitch, just a consequence of holding his breath the way he is, plausibly deniable, subconscious no doubt, only when Steve mirrors the movement, he does it again, gaze moving up and down from Steve’s eyes to his lips and back and back again without blinking, until twitch by twitch their noses graze and their mouths connect and Steve closes his eyes and concentrates on maintaining that seal over Eddie’s plush, pliable pout, because if he didn’t focus, he’d be way, way overeager for a first kiss. 

He moves back after several seconds with a shaky exhale, swallows as he finds Eddie’s eyes again. His blood is thrumming in his fingertips, somehow he feels both cold between his shoulder blades and warm down to his toes, and if Eddie looks at all put out he thinks he might never manage another mirror in his life. 

The look on Eddie’s face is pure disbelief. 

Steve shrugs, not quite settled on the matter of mirrors. “I thought you made a point of breaking the rules?”

A glint starts to wake in Eddie’s eye that’s looking more delighted by the minute. 

“Just as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“We’re in the clear, then,” Steve whispers, leaning in, just a smidge. 

Both of Eddie’s hands sink into his hair as he pulls him into another, much steamier, kiss. Steve lets his fists fall from Eddie’s lapels and knot over his back instead, lets his mouth drop slightly open, an invitation Eddie wastes not a second to follow through on, teeth scraping and back arching like he wants to sink all the way into Steve, and by the time they’re parting, breathless, cheeks flushed, mouths stinging, Steve’s one hand is braced against the wall, holding himself up, knees too weak to do the job on their own. 

“I thought you could barely stand me,” Eddie heaves.

“I can’t,” Steve admits. “You drive me nuts. Just not how you thought.”

Eddie frowns, suddenly serious. 

“You should forget all about Nancy.”

Steve frowns too. “That so?”

“Hm-mm. She’s taken, man. And not all that. You need to move on.”

“Damn,” Steve sighs. “Am I being desperate?”

“Pathetic,” Eddie nods, barely a whisper against Steve’s lips, and they break into smiles in tandem. “Forget all about her,” Eddie repeats. 

“Who?” Is the last word Steve gets out. Then he’s busy enough he really does forget. 

When he fixes his hair in the bathroom mirror in the morning, he walks away with a wink.

Give us a kudos, if ye dare x

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie oneshot #first kiss

[flynnriderishot]

hi love! could you write something about chris being mean (in a joking manner) to the reader always, but only because he doesn’t know how to deal with his real feeling of liking her, then one day, when hes being very mean and ignoring her, he angry confesses.

i hope i explained well, ly!

angry confessions - c.s

a/n: hear me out, okay? i read your request once and ran with it and when i came back to read it again i realized that i may have went a little off your original idea. i’m so sorry 😭 i hope you like it !

chris walked from his bedroom, his blue eyes almost immediately landing on your figure.

yours and chris’ relationship was weird. for starters: you didn’t have one.

you were extremely close with his brothers, doing nearly everything together, but you and chris never really had much of a connection.

he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but watching you and matt or even you and nick made his heart clench in jealousy. he knew that your relationship with them was completely platonic, but it rubbed him the wrong way to see you with anyone but him.

of course, he didn’t plan on telling you that. he couldn’t grasp the thought of having feelings for you. it scared him halfway to death.

you were sat on the couch with matt and nick, the three of you playing some random multiplayer game on your phones.

chris made his way to the kitchen to grab a drink, his footsteps alerting everyone of his presence.

“he’s alive.” nick spoke up.

“shut up.” chris scoffed, opening his pepsi before moving to sit with you guys.

just before he sat down, his hand lifts to playfully swat at the back of your head.

“what the fuck?!” you shouted, standing up as your eyes never once left your phone screen.

matt began to shout out in excitement, “oh! oh! i won!”

“bullshit.”

“why’d you do that?” you turn towards chris, frustration clear in your voice.

“sorry.” he shrugged, knowing there wasn’t much he could do about your loss but at least he had your attention.

you weren’t mad. you were used to chris’ odd behavior towards you. you didn’t know why, but you never questioned it.

you just assumed that’s how he treated every girl he knew.

hell, you’ve seen the way he’d jokingly make fun of madi. while he was a little less aggressive towards her, you thought that maybe it was because she was a lot more sensitive than you.

•••

“what the hell are you doing here?”

you perked up at the sound of his voice, “nick and i are hanging out.”

“again? that’s like the fourth time this week.”

he seemed annoyed at the thought you hanging out with his brother again.

“we’re going to a party. you can come with us if you want?” you suggested, not wanting him to feel left out.

chris furrowed his brows, “no, i’m good. last thing i want to do is be around you.”

your face fell. what the hell is his problem?

before you could respond and question his hostility, nick comes running down stairs,

“you ready to go?”

“yeah, let’s go.” you stood up from your seat, quickly exiting the house with an oblivious nick in tow.

as chris watched you and nick leave, he couldn’t help but silently scold himself.

“what the hell is wrong with me?”

“well for starters, you’re talking to yourself. that might be a sign that you have some problems…”

chris slowly turned towards matt, “shut the fuck up.”

•••

being sober had its perks.

the first being that you wouldn’t be drunk off your ass and wake up with the absolute worst headache ever. but it also meant that you wouldn’t accidentally catch yourself doing anything out of your usual character.

like nick, who was currently conversing with two people you could have sworn he despised.

now, you would have stopped him but you were currently caught up in a conversation with one of the few non intoxicated people at this party.

he was cute, he was nice and (so far) it seemed like his intentions were pure.

so why did you feel so weird speaking to him?

luckily and unlucky for you, your question was about to be answered.

•••

“hurry up!”

chris ignored matt’s words, slamming the passenger door shut as he ran towards the front door of the house that held you, his older brother and apparently his competition.

it took less than a minute for him to find nick. the elder triplet stood out regardless of where he was or what he was doing. so once he found him chris immediately pushed through the group of people that surrounded him and demanded that he went to go meet matt back at the car.

nick gave no protests, commenting how everyone there was lame, much to chris’ luck.

finding you was a little harder but thanks to the video of one of his mutual followers, he was able to find the vase from the video in the house he was in.

despite his mood, chris’ eyes softened slightly at the sight of your bright smile until he realized it wasn’t him that you were smiling at.

approaching you, he didn’t dare give a glance at the boy in front of you,

“we’re leaving. let’s go.”

“woah. what?” you turned in confusion, your y/e/c landing on him. “chris, what are you doing here?”

“let’s go.”

he seemed desperate to leave. you didn’t know why he showed up but you couldn’t help but be concerned.

“okay. let me find nick.”

“he’s in the car.” he said, “let’s go.”

“okay! can you relax?”

“yeah, dude. chill.”

chris’ jaw clenched, “don’t fucking talk to me.”

“chris—”

“can we leave?”

“yes, okay. go.” you ushered him away, quickly turning to the guy you were previously speaking to, “i’m so sorry.”

•••

“are you good?” you asked chris the second you exited the loud house.

“no, i’m not. why were you talking to him?”

“i was making a friend, chris.” you chuckled awkwardly.

“a friend? didn’t seem like that to me. i mean, you’re in the back of someone’s instagram story laughing your ass off like he’s the funniest person alive. what’s that about?”

you’ve never been so confused in your life. just a few hours ago, he was telling you how he wanted nothing to do with you. and now he was getting upset because you were talking to someone? it made no sense.

“chris—“

“i don’t want talking to him anymore.”

“excuse me?”

it seemed as though chris realized how ridiculous his request was but didn’t speak on it.

“where do you get off on telling me what to do? who the hell do you think you are?”

he didn’t say anything.

“you didn’t give a shit about me or what i had going on literally four hours ago and now you suddenly care? why?”

“because—” he stopped himself.

“because? because what, chris? please enlighten me. because gods knows i deserve to understand your reasoning for treating me like shit for the last two years i’ve known you!”

“because i love you!”

you let out a breath, “what?”

“because- because i don’t want to see you with anyone else. because i want to be the person you’re happy with and the person you hate and the person you think about every second of everyday.” he rambled out, “because that’s what you are for me and god, yn, it’s so frustrating having to see you everyday and not have single idea how to tell you how i feel.”

chris was nearly shouting at this point, but he didn’t care. he was finally getting everything off his chest.

“i treated you like shit because having you simply look at me, even if it was in anger or disgust was the highlight of my day. i’ll admit it wasn’t the best idea i’ve ever had but i didn’t care because at least i had your attention.”

“why didn’t you say anything before?“ was the first thing you asked when he finished.

“i didn’t think you’d care.” he scoffed, “i’ve heard your conversations with nick about your celebrity crushes, i know i’m not your type.”

you couldn’t stop the chuckle that fell from you lips, “thats a celebrity crush, chris. i’m never going to meet or see any of those people ever. that means nothing to me.”

he watched you step closer to him.

“a simple ‘i like you’ would have done you wonders. you didn’t have to make matt drive thirty minutes to tell me how you feel.”

he inhaled sharply, his words caught up in his throat as your hand made contact with his cheek.

“if it makes you feel any better…i’m glad you told me how you feel.”

“yeah?”

you nodded, a breathy chuckle leaving your lips, “yeah.”

his eyes darted back and forth between yours, while you focused on his lips.

“can i kiss you, chris?”

“please.”

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

Omae: Complexity of Self-Expression and Intimacy with the Japanese “You”

The anime adaption of chapter 322 is rapidly approaching, so I wanna talk about something really interesting: as far as I can tell, Izuku is the only person Katsuki has ever used the pronoun omae (おまえ) towards in-canon. Furthermore, he has only used omae towards Izuku on three occasions.

The first time is after Deku vs. Kacchan 2 in chapter 120.

The second time is right after his apology in chapter 322. (Katsuki actually uses omae four times in a row in this scene.)

(We'll get to the third time later, just you wait.)

Why does Katsuki address Izuku differently in these scenes? To answer this, we’re gonna commit some language nerdery.

First, let’s be real about the fact that Japanese pronouns can be complicated. There are a ton of them. You learn the common uses—like you could say that, broadly, omae tends to be used by guys for their friends and romantic partners. But the reality is that in a high-context language like Japanese, pronouns can come across wildly differently depending on who uses it, to whom, with what tone, and in what context.

It is difficult to generalize real-life usage, so to be clear, I am talking about MHA as a piece of media. I could try to tell you that omae is rude but also friendly but also condescending but also comedic but also confrontational but also affectionate—and so on, but that wouldn’t help you understand what Katsuki’s omae to Izuku means and why it feels significant.

The thing is, Izuku and Katsuki can each say omae and mean completely different things, because their normal way of speaking tells us how to interpret their words.

When Izuku speaks, he is polite and considerate. He uses the boyish first-person pronoun boku (僕). In Japanese, avoiding second-person pronouns is the polite thing to do; you use the person’s surname and an appropriate suffix instead, and this is the tactic Izuku uses to address others. When he does say “you,” it is usually the familiar kimi (君) towards Katsuki.

We see Izuku use omae in only a few circumstances: he uses it towards himself during inner monologues when he is trying to figure out what to do or compel himself to act, and he uses it when he faces All For One.

Both of these involve what I think of as “tough talk”—Izuku talks tough to himself to push past his fears and be a hero. With AFO, he is talking to a villain, someone he has to defeat. From someone like Izuku who speaks with such politeness and humility, omae reads as aggressive and confrontational.

Katsuki, on the other hand, is always aggressive and confrontational. He uses the masculine, somewhat boastful first-person pronoun ore (俺) and the second-person pronoun temee (てめえ) towards just about everybody. Temee is an extremely rude, combative word; Japanese descriptions usually point out that it reads like fightin’ words—it’s what you’d call an opponent, someone you are confronting, challenging, or belittling. As mentioned, you’re supposed to avoid “you” words to be polite, so the fact that Katsuki whips out temee constantly and makes up insulting nicknames instead of using anybody’s real name is just like, damn, dude!

Unlike Izuku, Katsuki sounds like he is challenging everyone all the time. This means that, coming from him, omae actually seems gentler.

After Deku vs. Kacchan 2, he opens his sentence with omae, and Izuku looks startled by this.

They just had a huge, emotional fistfight, and Katsuki… isn’t addressing him as an opponent, like he always has before. For once, he is addressing Izuku not as his enemy, but his equal.

This scene is the first time Katsuki properly grapples with the truth of their mutual weaknesses and comes to an understanding about it. It leaves him frustrated and unsure, but he walks away seeing himself and Izuku as being on the same side.

Because he takes All Might's words to heart: they are two halves of what makes a hero. They need to learn from each other and push each other to truly reach their best—as rivals, not enemies.

In chapter 322, Katsuki talks Izuku through how he felt about him all these years. He goes over all the things he's had to face to see how wrong he was, to see his own weakness and Izuku's strength. The whole time, he uses the "you" word he always has: temee.

But when it comes time to tell Izuku his true feelings, he calls Izuku by his given name, apologizes, and then right away he says this:

This is a direct call-back to the core question that Katsuki posed to Izuku during Deku vs. Kacchan 2: "Is my way of admiring All Might wrong?"

The second half to that question has always been, implicitly, "Does that mean yours is right?"

Here, Katsuki acknowledges Izuku fully as All Might's successor and affirms that Izuku's path is not wrong, using omae to tell him so. And then he uses it three more times to convince Izuku to come back with them and fight together, "because saving people is how we win."

To me, omae in this scene comes across with such softness. He's speaking with more humility than we've ever seen, both in what he's conveying and his word choice. (There is a whole other conversation to be had about Katsuki's word choice for "I'm sorry," but that is for a different time.)

This omae is not just a sign that he sees Izuku as his equal, it's expressing care for him. Katsuki sacrificed his life for Izuku, telling him, "Stop trying to win this on your own." He is trying so hard to make Izuku understand: Come back, I was wrong. Come back, I care about you.

Which brings us to the third time Katsuki uses omae: chapter 362.

That's right, the infamous "Can I still catch up to you?" / "Can I still reach you?" line uses omae.

Here's the thing that's unique about this omae: it's in Katsuki's head. This is internal monologue; he isn't talking out loud to Izuku, he isn't trying to convey something to him face-to-face, he is just thinking about Izuku.

The word choice isn't for anyone else's benefit or any external purpose: this is just how Katsuki sees him.

I can't overstate how soft, vulnerable, and sincere this moment is for Katsuki. And what gets me about him thinking of Izuku as omae is, it makes me wonder, "How long has he thought of Izuku this way?"

When did Izuku stop being temee in his head?

Changing how you address someone is a big deal in Japanese. Whether it's a name or suffix change (Deku -> Izuku) or a pronoun change (temee -> omae), it represents a significant shift in the emotional dynamics of a relationship.

It crops up a lot in media as a dramatic moment of intimacy, sometimes even being a part of love confessions. This heightened drama is exactly what we see with Katsuki's apology when he calls him Izuku.

Katsuki addresses only Izuku with his given name and omae, and in the whole run of the series, he only uses omae in a few select instances. I would argue that this is really important, subtle character writing.

Looking at the scenes, at least to me, each omae reads as progressively more honest and intimate. Each time Katsuki uses it, he is reaching for Izuku. Each time, it means more.

#bkdk #bakudeku #dekubaku #dkbk #translations #mha spoilers #bnha spoilers #mha manga spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #bkdk apology #meta

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part 2

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: he steps on your hand, non-consensual kissing, slapping

A/N: In which you try to stand your ground against Feyd and it just makes him horny

Palpable tension fills the room. You notice, not happily, the heavy presence of guards. As pale and unmoving as the walls, you wouldn’t have recognized them if not for the subtle hand signals from your mother. Jessica’s fingers twitched in the ancient Atreides language.

Stay on guard, she warns you. You don’t even have to look at her to know what she’s saying — you learned the secretive hand signals before you could even speak. Even just a quick flash of her fingers in your peripheral and you understand.

Will this day end in bloodshed?

The thought rags at you.

“Welcome,” the Baron finally bellows, voice thick and rasping as sand over the dunes of Arrakis. “It is truly an honor to receive you here today.”

Leto nods, ever the diplomat. You’re grateful for his lead and the prowess of his social navigational skills because, at the moment, you’re afraid that you won’t be able to speak. Not in the face of your destiny and certainly not under the severe scrutiny of your betrothed.

The Baron beckons you and your family closer and you swear that you notice Feyd-Rautha lean forward in interest.

“I trust your journey from Arrakis was well,” the Baron says.

Your skin prickles at the mention.

“Certainly. It was a smooth ride. I’m sure you’re familiar, since you’ve taken it recently,” Leto replies coolly.

The Baron snaps, “And will again soon.”

An insurmountable current of hostility perpetuates the room, not visible but impossible to not to notice. The Baron claps his hands together, the sound resonating. “But we aren’t here to discuss space travel, are we? Lady Y/N, step forward so that we may see you.”

The slightest nod of approval from Jessica. Her hand brushes yours as you pass by her.

It’s unknown to you how far you should go but you take several large steps away from your parents until you’re completely vulnerable. You hope no one is able to perceive your nervousness, or the slick state of your palms. You keep them hidden in the folds of your dress.

“Mm, lovely enough,” the Baron remarks. His repulsive gaze travels your form. Not in the way that one might appraise a mate but rather a livestock for purchase. “Excellent hips for birthing.”

You bite your tongue to stifle your retort.

From the shifting of garments behind you, you know the comment has unsettled your parents as well. Your mother warned you that the situation was delicate, that the Harkonnens would wait for the slightest aggression to attack. You do your best to maintain a comprise of neutrality, the cool indifference your mother manages to exude.

“Still an Atreides,” Rabban growls, low enough only for you, the Baron, and na-Baron to hear.

The Baron ignores this. “Well, nephew, won’t you greet your betrothed?”

A small exhale escapes you.

Feyd-Rautha lopes from his position beside the dais to stand before you. His proximity is overwhelming, the sheer size and force of his presence eclipsing all else; his lips have not loosed from their taunting smirk, an infuriating expression you wish to rid him of.

“Hello, betrothed,” he says. His voice, too, rasps against your ears, cool and unbothered.

“Hello,” is all you manage.

In a move that startles you, Feyd-Rautha unsheathes a dagger from his armored uniform. It glints dangerously in the low lighting. Although you can’t see her you hear Jessica cry out in surprise, in objection, and the guards at the perimeter of the throne room coil with anticipation. However, you keep still.

Feyd-Rautha presses the tip of the dagger lightly into your neck, below your ear. His dark gaze flickers down the column of your throat, following the trail of the blade. It’s a strangely sensual act, intimate in ways that disturb you, the fragile balance of trust and power it commands. Feyd-Rautha stops at the dip of your throat, where your heart is beating wildly, directly above the Atreides clasp.

He clicks his tongue. “You won’t be needing this.”

The Harkonnen slices at your cape faster than you can ever react — the garment flutters from your shoulders to the ground. It’s then that you realize he’s cut away the clasp and effectively stripped you of your Atreides title.

The clasp bounces against the polished floor.

Compelled by shock, by pure reflex, you bend down to grab it. Feyd-Rautha’s boot closes down on your hand before you can retrieve the clasp, slamming your palm down over it as he traps your hand against the floor. You gasp in surprise, and pain, the pressure of his booted foot clearly more demonstrative than punishing. For now.

“I told you that you won’t be needing that,” he says, exasperatedly informal. “Stand up.”

Teeth gritting, you squirm beneath his boot, trying desperately to reclaim your hand. “No!” You shout at him. “It is rightfully mine.”

He presses his boot down harder. You squeal.

“You are rightfully mine. And you will do as I say. A wife with a broken hand is still capable of fulfilling her duties.”

Shame burns your face and couples with the disgust taking root in your chest. Feyd-Rautha regards you coolly from above. If you thought you would survive the attempt, you’d snap his leg.

“Fine,” you spit out.

His smooth brow raises. “What?”

“Fine.”

“Louder,” he orders. “I want them all to hear you. Forfeit your Atreides loyalty.”

In the few seconds that you take to consider this, he pushes his entire weight down on your hand. The pain steals away all rational thought as stars appear in your vision. Your breath saws painfully in and out of your lungs. It takes all of your strength to grit out, “I forfeit my Atreides loyalty.”

A bout of protest explodes from Leto and Jessica, and the sound of their disbelief cuts you deep. You collapse onto the ground, clutching your injured hand and watch in horror as Feyd-Rautha stomps on the clasp and shatters it.

Pieces go flying.

There’s a terrible joy in the Baron’s voice: “Enough, nephew. I believe you’ve made your point.”

“That was completely unnecessary —” Leto begins. He quiets as a trio of Harkonnen guards gather not towards him, but you, weapons and lasguns trained on your crumpled form.

A memory emerges from your subconscious, an afternoon in which Leto mentioned that having a child is like having a lasgun pressed to your temple at all times.

His throat bobs with suppressed emotion.

Your parents won’t try anything if it puts you in peril. Even Jessica’s control of The Voice is useless.

“Lady Y/N is now a member of the House Harkonnen. Her husband will do with her what he sees fit,” the Baron declares. “Nephew, have you had quite enough?”

Feyd-Rautha faces his uncle. “For now.”

You tremble beside him. A heady mix of pain and anger boils beneath your skin. The Harkonnen soldiers fall back as the Baron waves a massive hand.

“Take her to her chambers. I’ve had enough.”

You protest, “No! I need to say goodbye to my family!”

A sickening smile spreads on the Baron’s face, and he holds out his arms. “We’re your family now.”

You don’t even get a final glimpse of your parents as the soldiers hoist you to your feet and corner you off from them. The roughness of the guards jostles your injured hand. “Get off me,” you growl, yanking yourself free from their grasps.

The soldiers move to contain you once more but Feyd-Rautha rasps, “Listen to your future Baronness.” You gape at him. The faint hint of a smirk returns on his face, and he steps toward you. “I’ll escort her.”

Then he grabs your injured hand as a tether.

The doors to the throne room slam shut.

Feyd-Rautha’s grip on your hand is strong, undoubtedly a reminder of his control. It takes more than a few pulls to dispatch him and, once you do, he whirls on you with a curious, almost bewildered look.

You seethe, “What is wrong with you? How dare you destroy my family pin.”

“You cannot be my wife if you have loyalties elsewhere,” he says, as if the explanation is obvious. “Your loyalties are to me and the House Harkonnen.”

“I decided where my loyalties lay,” you tell him. “And they belong to no one but myself.”

Feyd-Rautha studies you, then huffs.

“I’m being serious,” you hiss.

“I know.” He steps casually toward you, though it’s anything but. Your body tenses. “So am I.”

An indescribable feeling crashes over you, sweeping you nearly off your feet. Everything you’ve heard about him vanishes. In a move that surprises even yourself, you advance on him, close enough to see the glint of glee in his dark eyes. He’s actually enjoying this.

“You have taken everything from me,” you sneer at him. “My home. My family. My name. My future.” You inhale shakily, fighting back a sob. “But you will not take away my allegiance.”

“Do you think that I wanted this?” Feyd-Rautha asks bitterly. “And don’t pretend as if you didn’t just forfeit that allegiance. To me. Have you already forgotten?” He touches your face, much to your chagrin. He crooks one finger under your chin and raises it. “Need I remind you?”

“You’re a monster.”

Feyd-Rautha’s handsome features arrange into what you can only describe as satisfaction. “Yes I am.”

You recoil as the Harkonnen then presses his lips to yours, holding your chin in place to keep you from shying away. It’s brief, almost perfunctory in nature. A passionless, predatory claim.

He pulls away, and the subsequent sound of your slap reverberates through the empty corridor.

Feyd-Rautha clenches his jaw. Your hand stings from the strike, and you hold it at your side in anticipation of a retaliating blow. He rolls his neck. An eternity passes before he turns his attention back to you, pale cheek still reddened by your hand. It pleases you to notice it.

“We’re even now. Wife.”

Feyd-Rautha snatches your hand, which until that moment the pain had been subdued by adrenaline. You wince. He kisses your already mottling knuckles, the sensitive skin of your wrist, never pulling his eyes from yours.

You refuse to react, to acknowledge the flicker of heat ignited low in your belly.

Feyd-Rautha drops your hand then and, as if nothing had happened, turns on his booted heel and starts down the opposite direction. “Come, wife. It’s time I show you our quarters.”

Part 3

Tags:

@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle

#dune #feyd x you #feyd x reader #these destined ends #part two #feyd smut #feyd rautha #fanfic #writing #fanfic writing #writers on tumblr #oh no he's hot

[cheeseceli]

When your parents don't like them

Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!Reader (individually)

Genre: reverse hurt/comfort? Angst? A little bit of fluff perhaps; reaction

Description: their reaction to not having the approval of your parents in their first meeting (established relationship)

Warnings: not proofread; a lot of overthinking and self doubt in most of the scenarios; the length of each story is not favouritsm!! It's just that some scenarios required more details than others

A/n: I should have posted this one a long time ago... Oh well. And I am literally the mix of Han and Lee Know, this would 100% happen to me if I were in their shoes

Bang Chan

‌HE'S SO SHOCKED

‌Parents always love him, so why didn't yours?

‌He believes he took it for granted

‌But he was so sure your family would love him

‌Rethinks everything he said and did

‌And thinks about what he could've done

‌He'll be up all night because of it, you better believe me

"Maybe it's the outfit I was wearing?"

"Chan, for God's sake, go to sleep."

"Seriously though, do you think my clothes weren't appropriate?"

"There was nothing wrong with how you looked baby."

"... So maybe I didn't introduce myself properly?"

"Chan."

Lee Know

‌ He knew he had to talk

‌ But it turns out he was too scared

‌And your parents just aggravated his problem

‌ He'd give only short answers and would only speak when spoken with

‌ Because of that your parents didn't see him as a really charismatic guy

‌ But I swear he was trying his best

"I swear it wasn't as bad as it seemed."

"It was horrible. I doubt any of your parents even know what my voice sounds like."

"You were nervous. I'm sure they'll understand. If you'd like I can talk to them about it."

"Please, don't. The last thing I want is for your parents to think that besides being awkward I'm a coward as well."

"They don't think either of those things. You'll see, you guys just need to know each other a little bit more. They'll love you."

Even with his worried expression, he gave you a small smile "I hope so".

Changbin

‌ You warned him he was getting too close

‌ He was holding your hand, caressing your thigh, hugging you too tight, kissing you a lot...

‌ All the time

‌ And yes, you both were dating for a while now

‌ But your parents didn't really appreciate the attitude

‌ And truly, he thought that by doing that he was showing how much he treasured and loved you

‌ Sadly your parents didn't understand his actions like he planned

"But what was I supposed to do? Stay away from you?"

"Ideally, yes"

Changbin pouted, not even realising it "but I'm your boyfriend"

"They are not used to this fact just yet. Don't worry though, they still have a lot of time to like you. Just wait and see"

Hyunjin

‌ Similar to Chan, Hyunjin didn't expect to be rejected by your parents

‌of course, he wasn't expecting to make the fall in love immediately, but he knew he had some charms

‌and he actually put a lot of effort into impressing them so when it doesn't work he's like

‌genuinely sad

‌And he's scared your relationship might change now that he doesn't have your family approval right away.

"So... About the dinner"

"They are always like this, don't worry"

"How come?"

"I knew they were gonna play hard to get. But don't you stress over it, sooner or later they will realise there is no need to act like it"

"So I can still convince them into not hating me?"

"Why would they hate you? You were really boyfriend material if you ask me"

He laughed, a little bit more relieved "They were kinda... aggressive back there, y'know?"

"Ugh, sorry about that. I swear things will get better"

"You're not mad?"

"Of course not. Why would I be?"

"I thought you'd get sad or something like that since the meeting didn't go that well"

"I'm a bit sad, yeah. But it's not your fault. You did your best. Besides, it won't last that long. It's kinda hard to hate on the Hwang Hyunjin for too long"

He laughed again, openly this time as he replied "I hope you are right"

Han

‌The problem wasn't exactly what he did

‌The problem was that he didn't do anything

‌Literally anything

‌ He'd excuse himself to go to the bathroom to avoid any questions

‌He barely moved besides that

‌After a while your dad even forgot he was there

‌And Han wished he could disappear

"I'm so, so sorry"

"Ji, it's okay"

"I was gonna answer your mother, I swear. But she was looking at me with daggers in her eyes"

"You were just fine"

"Fine? Y/n, your dad sighed in relief after I left the room. They must see me as a loser"

"I'm sure they don't. Besides, you still have a lot of time left to win them over. I know they'll love you"

Felix

‌Your parents loved him actually

‌They just don't think he is fit to be your boyfriend

‌They think that his angel face and sweet personality wouldn't give you enough security throughout your life

‌And Felix wants to prove himself to your parents so badly now

‌He will use his deep voice privilege to try to prove his point

‌He will go to the gym with Changbin until he's "intimidating" enough

‌And he won't fail on reminding them how he has over 60 medals on taekwondo

"How do I look?"

"Great, as always"

"But do I look intimidating? Scary?"

"Lix..."

"But not too scary. I need to look threatening to others but reliable to you"

"You look like someone my parents will like"

"They already like me, but not enough to like our relationship"

"They will though. Soon enough they will appreciate everything that comes along with you, trust me."

Felix smiled and nodded, feeling a certain comfort into your words as you headed to the door

"Just for the record, you do look threatening but reliable"

"Oh thank you. I was going crazy over this"

Seungmin

‌If your parents don't like Seungmin then the problem is on them

‌just kidding

‌Seriously though, I can't imagine why they wouldn't like him

‌And neither can Seungmin himself

‌So he truly thinks that everything was a misunderstanding and that it's only a matter of time until your whole family falls in love with him

‌He will face it like a challenge

"What about we invite your parents to our apartment this weekend?"

"We just saw them less than an hour ago"

"I think we should see them again"

"Did you like them that much?"

"They seem cool. But they also seem to hate me. I need to change their minds"

"What? They didn't hate you at all"

"Your father's glare would disagree. But that doesn't matter that much because by the end of this week they will love me"

"You seem certain"

"Of course I am. I can't have them hating me for the rest of our lives, can I?"

"They don't hate you. They are just... hard to please"

"I'll change this" he faced you with a confident smile "I give you my word"

I.N

‌Kinda clueless

‌Totally clueless actually

‌He can't understand what he did wrong but apparently he did something awful considering your parents disliked him that much

‌Will try to find ways to apologise

‌Will gift them and try to keep a conversation even when you're not around

"Does your mother like flowers? She does, right? Every mother does"

"What are you doing?"

"You said that she invited us to lunch this Friday. I don't want to go see her with empty hands again. Maybe that's what made her hate me so much the first time"

"She doesn't care about those things, Innie"

"No? Then why doesn't she like me?"

"She's just hard to satisfy, you know. But I bet she'll like you in no time. She just needs to get to know you better"

"You keep saying that but I don't know, I feel like that won't happen any time soon. I really want her to approve me"

He had that hopeless expression again, that one that really wanted to change the situation but didn't know how to. You really hated seeing him disappointed on himself.

"Lilies" you said

"What?"

"Those are my mother's favourites. Lilies"

"Oh my God, thank you" he got up and kissed the top of your head lightly, before going to the door of your shared apartment "I'll be right back"

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated! | masterlist

#stray kids #skz fluff #skz #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #skz angst #skz hurt/comfort #stray kids hurt/comfort #bang chan #bang chan angst #lee know #lee know angst #seungmin #seungmin angst #i.n #i.n angst #han #han angst #felix #felix angst #changbin #changbin angst #hyunjin angst #hyunjin #stray kids soft hours #stray kids soft thoughts #celi headcanon

[uneditedidiot]

i can see you - jamie tartt x reader

i can see you - jamie tartt x reader

jamie tartt x gn!reader

summary: Jamie can’t stop imagining you pressed up against the wall and his mouth on yours…will he act on it? Based off the song I Can See You by Taylor Swift from Speak Now Taylor’s Version.

word count: 1.4k

Warnings: COULD be considered NSFW so maybe MDNI (18+) just in case, implied smut, Jamie pining after you, language

A/N: I started this the day Speak Now TV came out, but I didn’t get the chance to finish it until now cause I was moving and didn’t have internet. This gets a LITTLE spicy, so enjoy. :) also THIS GIF 👀

’Cause I can see you waiting down the hall from me

And I could see you up against the wall with me

And what would you do? 

Baby, if you only knew

That I can see you

Well…Jamie was fucked.

You stood down the hall from him talking with Keeley about the big press conference coming up for the team, making sure you’d scheduled everything for the boys that you needed to.

Jamie couldn’t hear the conversation, just stood gazing at you with a soft expression by the water fountain. He’d told himself that staring probably wasn’t the best idea, as you had a rule that you didn’t date people on the team, but he couldn’t help himself. Everything you did, everything you said, even how you moved…he was hopelessly in love with you.

He had imagined this scenario at least a hundred times. You’d walk down the hall to him. He’d wrap his arms around you, one hand on the back of your neck, the other on the small of your back, and pull your lips to his. Then you’d slide your hands up over his shoulders, reciprocating the passionate kiss, and he’d walk you slowly backwards so that you were pressed against the wall at the mercy of his hands and mouth. And that’s where you would stay; bodies pressed together in a way that made you both want each other even more, ready to find an empty room at a moments’ notice. Then after you’d both spent at least an hour (if not more) drawing pleasurable experience out of pleasurable experience out from each other, you’d both confess your love for the other.

He shook himself out of this enchanting imaginary moment when he saw you laugh at something Keeley said, pat her shoulder, and start walking down the hall towards him.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he noticed you notice him staring. He spun quickly on his heel, pretending to fill up his already full water bottle.

He heard your footsteps approaching, then silence as you came to a halt in front of him.

“Uh, you realize your bottle is already full, right?” you teased.

He glanced up, stopping the spout from sending more filtered water cascading over his hands into the drain. He felt his cheeks grow warm.

“Erm, can’t ever be too hydrated,” he heard himself stutter. “Coach Lasso is always gettin’ on me to drink more water, so…here I am doing that.”

You wrinkled your eyebrows in a confused smile, which sent butterflies fluttering about in his stomach. You were just so cute…

“Ted wanted me to let you know that he’s going to call you up to talk about your assists this month,” you told him. “And Roy wants to talk to you in his office after the conference. Something about…” You checked your phone, frowning in puzzlement. “...Uncle’s Day?”

“Shit,” he cursed. He averted his eyes bashfully. “Yeah, I might’ve…intruded a little on Phoebe’s holiday with him.”

You rolled your eyes good naturedly. “Oh come on, you know Roy. He acts like he’s some untouchable, rough-and-tumble, aggressive bear, but on the inside, he’s like a cute, angry little duck.”

Jamie let out a huge laugh. He was afraid it might have sounded too eager or loud. The self-conscious, nagging voice in his brain told him that it was dumb to laugh like that at such a small joke.

But you clearly enjoyed that he found your joke amusing. Your face went slightly pink, looking almost a little embarrassed.

“Should I tell Roy you’ve just compared him to a duck?” he joked.

You feigned an attitude but your smile was evident. “Alright. Go ahead. What would he do? Yell at me? He does that anyways.”

“Yellin’ is that man’s love language, I swear.”

“What’s yours?”

His breath caught in his throat. “What?”

You held his gaze confidently, eyes darkening slightly as you asked yet again, “What’s your love language?”

Jamie’s heart was stuttering. His brain had needed a moment to catch up to what you were asking.

“I, erm…” he stammered. His eyes bounced around, not able to meet yours. “For meself, it’s probably…eh, physical touch and, uh, words of affirmation.”

He finally was able to make eye contact. You clearly were paying attention, nodding as he finished speaking.

Jamie decided to be just as bold. “I told you mine, so you tell me yours.”

You smiled back. “Physical touch and quality time.”

He smirked, flirting back. “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

“I’d hope so,” you grinned, patting him lightly on the chest. Then without another word, you walked back down the hall, glancing back a few times to make sure he was watching. His chest tingled where you’d touched him.

Oh MAN…Jamie was really fucked now. Had you been thinking of the same things?

He questioned the interaction over and over again in his mind throughout the rest of that day. He knew he was distracted, especially during the press conference. Ted had to get his attention multiple times so he could answer questions that had just been asked of him.

But after the conference was over and the work day had ended, Jamie decided to act on things.

He stood by the water fountain, waiting for you to come down the stairs to go home. He tapped the top of the cooler anxiously.

You’d both been very professional with each other up until that conversation earlier. He’d never been tempted this much to act on his feelings. He knew that if he had acted on them before, you’d have become an addiction for him, which he couldn’t afford at this point. But, again, that was before the flirty exchange about love languages earlier.

Footsteps.

There you were.

He inhaled sharply, butterflies in his stomach fluttering like mad.

He saw you appear, bag in hand, staring down at your phone as you stepped down from the last stair.

He called your name. You whipped around, puzzled. Your face lit up when you saw him.

“Jamie,” you said, “what are you still doing here? It’s like seven. I thought all the players had gone home.”

He smiled lightly, coming closer to you as he spoke. “There’s not many of us left. I think Sam and Isaac might still be here, but…I have something else I need to do before I leave.”

Your confused expression only grew. “And what’s that?”

He stopped right in front of you, faces inches apart. You made no effort to move away from him, just stared back at him. Your eyes flickered to his lips.

“This,” he replied softly.

Jamie crushed his lips to yours. The reciprocation from you was instant. You dropped your bag to the floor.

His hands wound around your body, hands caressing as much of you as possible. Your arms went up to his neck, one hand on the back of his head, the other over his shoulders.

Your mouths moved hungrily against each other, trying to feel as much of each other as possible. It was like rain had finally come after a drought. You both realized how much you’d wanted each other.

Jamie was licking into your mouth. You slid your hands to tug on the collar of his sweatsuit jacket. His fingers were tracing the sliver of skin between your t-shirt and jeans. Your whole body was on fire.

Jamie wasn’t thinking straight. He backed you into the wall of the hallway, pressing your body against his. There was no space between you at all. His knee moved between your legs, pressing up. You whined against his mouth. He smirked into the kiss and groaned.

This was exactly what he had imagined so many times before.

His lips trailed off yours down your chin and neck. He licked and bit and kissed his way to your jugular. His left hand went up the back of your shirt to trace your spine in an agonizingly delicious manner.

Your breathing was heavy, trying to find some relief on his knee as you ground down. His mouth was relentless on your neck. It was everything you’d wanted for so long.

You fiddled with the zipper of his jacket, pulling slowly down. His mouth was immediately back on yours, but he unzipped the jack quickly and slung it off.

He was only in a tank top, leaving his arms bare. You dug your fingernails into his biceps as he kissed over your jaw to behind your ear. He felt fireworks under his skin where you traced.

You let out an involuntary moan. He pulled away, grinning widely, lips still inches from yours.

“Shhhh,” he whispered. “Can’t have you alerting everyone here what we’re doin’, love. Not a sound...”

You pulled his lips to yours again. 

In between kisses, you suggested hoarsely, “boot room?”

Jamie pulled back again. You could feel his breath against your chin. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, blushing, still giving him some of your signature sass. “Obviously. I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I wasn’t.”

He pecked your lips once more, grabbing your hands and immediately leading you away to the boot room to act the rest of his fantasy…and yours.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x gn!reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso (show) #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #i can see you #speak now tv #i can see you imagine #uneditedidiot #ted lasso #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt fic

[yesimwriting]

Of Angels

Part 2 of Of Angels (part 1)  

A/n we're back! also this is a friendly reminder that this isn't supposed to be exactly like the movie/book, some things will be a little different bc of practicality, my ability to remember things, or just for fun/for me bc i have more fun writing when i can change things up

Summary: After the very public slight of being assigned to mentor a female tribute from a lower district, all Snow can think about is the uphill battle that winning the Plinth prize will now be. Until, he realizes, that he's been given the first ever district volunteer who seems to have a quality that makes people care about her.

----

The potential consequences of Coriolanus's mistake don't fully manage to force their way to the front of his mind until the door clicks shut.

He's thrown himself, locked himself, in a contained space with the most savage and aggravated group of people in the Capitol. Just in an attempt to get you to trust him.

Coriolanus turns around as casually as he can manage, "Hello."

Unwashed faces blink up at him. Their expressions start off as blank, slowly but surely hardening as they take in his clothing and presence. Someone from the Capitol that isn't a peacekeeper.

One of the larger tributes begins to walk forward. The others glare at him, watching him with a silent rage that makes the space feel like it's shrinking.

The largest of them gets so close that Coriolanus has to push his body towards the vehicle's door. "Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you."

"Do you have any family back home?" The voice isn't strong, but it's so steady despite its smallness that one could mistake it for certainty. Despite the threat that stands in front of him, Coriolanus's attention instinctually shifts towards you. "Or any friends? Maybe a puppy you're fond of?" Your fingers are curled around the edge of the bench you're sitting on. "They'll kill them."

Your tone is too neutral for you to be speaking from personal experience, and yet, you sound so sure. Coriolanus wonders if there's something there worth digging into. Maybe it's just a byproduct of where you're from, a district that's prone to rebellion is often warned about what disobedience can lead to.

The tribute cornering him doesn't move away, but he stills, stiff and uncertain. You look between them innocently. "Besides, he's my mentor." Your hands loosen their grip on the edge of the bench, you push yourself to stand. "I might need him."

"Men-tle?" Another voice chimes in.

"Mentor."

"How come you get a mentor?" The tribute questioning Coriolanus's presence in association to you twists their neck to glare at you.

"You all get one," he forces the sentence out quickly. The last thing he needs to do is make you a target. Getting you to live is going to be enough of an uphill battle as is.

The tribute closest to him takes another intimidating step forward. "He's lying."

"She's the girl that volunteered," the red-headed girl from four--Coral, if he's remembering correctly--sneers, angling her head to glare at you, "Of course they need to keep an eye on her." She then dips her chin downwards, staring you down with mockingly soft eyes, "Is it everything you thought it'd be, princess?"

Volunteering did mark you. He wonders how many remarks you had to put up with on the way here and whether or not they've affected your mental state. The short exchange the two of you shared made you seem together. You weren't overly emotionally or even aggressively closed off.

The determined pout of your lips draws his attention more than it should. You then tilt your head with no warning, matching her condescending expression, "Better, actually."

You draw out the sentence, not once shrinking under District 4's cold stare. Coriolanus's expression instinctively shifts to hint at a smile. Your sarcasm isn't off putting or brash, it's refreshing. It's a flash of fight, of sharp teeth ready to be barred that he hadn't thought you capable of.

The display of potential aggression also doesn't affect your charm at all. Being able to strike back while still holding onto the appearance of kindness is a skill in itself. Coriolanus has to take everything on the cheek publicly to avoid coming off like a starving dog finally snapping.

Those kinds of remarks won't do you any favors in the arena unless you're the kind of person that has the physical strength or skill to back it up. You don't. It's more than just your stature, it's in the way you carry yourself. But still, maybe you'll be entertaining enough under this new structure to score him some points towards the Plinth prize. That is, if he can get you to trust him, if he can convince you to talk about your relationship with your cousin and maybe flash that smile you gave him when you first met for the cameras.

Coral's glare intensifies. She pushes herself to stand, as if to intimidate you, but before she can fully straighten, the world shifts.

Coriolanus doesn't have time to think. He's sliding--falling--back before he knows what's happening. A few of the tributes yelp, one of the younger ones squeaks. Something warm latches itself onto his wrist.

He blinks, his body finally reattaching itself to his mind. The vehicle opened and started dumping out its contents with no warning. In the panic, you had grabbed him.

The vehicle settles, anyone managing to hold onto the metal door looses their hold. Everyone tumbles down a small slope, a mess of bodies bumping into each other when they're not busy hitting the edge of rocks until they land in a heap on the ground.

Coriolanus sits up as soon as his back hits something solid. His head snaps around, taking in his surroundings. The space is made up of jagged, tan rocks coated in dirt. Bars line the perimeter--a cage. This is a cage. Of course following the animals leads to ending up in a cage.

Self disgust and panic knot oddly in his stomach. He stands before he can think of what comes next.

"And here we have them, the tributes for the 10th annual Hunger Games."

His eyes find the people already flocking the bars, the most notable one of them someone he's familiar with. Lucky Flickerman, a usual Capitol programming personality. This, his public humilation, is being streamed on television.

"Oh, and look--" Lucky turns towards him, the cameraman instinctually moving to get him into frame. Lucky turns back to the camera, addressing his audience, "I don't think he's supposed to be in there." He laughs then, the sound jabbing at Coriolanus's side.

An aggravated heat begins to burn through is chest. There's nowhere to duck, no excuse to remedy what he's done to the Snow family name.

"Hey." He blinks, surprised he didn't immediately jump out of his skin. How you stood up so silently is beyond him.

Coriolanus can't think of a way to respond. Here he is, in a cage on display with you, like he's one of the district born, and you're the one attempting to ease him. Confidence, assurance. That's what he should be providing you so that you feel the need to--

You place your hand over his. The contact runs just as hot as the humiliation searing through him, only, this is a different kind of warmth. A much steadier, much more agonizing sort of warmth.

His eyes finally find yours. You look more tousled than before, one of your hair ribbons missing and dirt smeared against the apple of your cheek. "Own it."

You whisper the instruction so confidently it almost feels like this is natural to you. Owning it does feel better than being consumed by his embarrassment and accepting the destruction of his family name, but part of the steadiness comes from you. The realization that you're capable of that claws at him.

He nods, eyes instinctually dropping to avoid your expectant stare. The white rose is still safely held between your fingers. He stretches a hand forward, taking the flower by its stem. Your eyebrows draw together, but you let him. Coriolanus breaks off the end of the stem and carefully tucks the flower behind your ear.

You hold still, even as he takes the time to smooth your hair into place.

"Well, that's not something you see every day." Lucky's voice snaps him out of it.

Coriolanus takes you by the arm, walking you up to the camera's. He keeps his expression as casually bright as possible. "I'm Coriolanus Snow."

"And who is she?"

He expects to have to answer that, but you give him your full name without missing a beat, your voice smooth and sweet like honey. "And who are you?"

The cameraman lets out a small laugh at your confusion. "Be nice," Lucky mumbles, "Not everyone has a TV." He then turns back to you, "I'm Lucky Flickerman, Capitol weatherman, TV personality..."

"Well, it's nice to meet you," Lucky says into his microphone, "You're the girl who volunteered."

Coriolanus watches your reaction as best he can from his peripheral vision. Your lips pull downwards slightly. There's something almost sad about it, but it's done in such a respectable manner that he can't imagine anyone minding it.

You confirm with a slight nod of your head, "Yes."

Lucky takes the microphone back, "Now why would you do a thing like that?"

For the first time, a hint of cracking presents itself in your expression. It's minor, just the pull of your eyebrows, but he can't help but hold his breath as he waits for your reply. "For my cousin."

"And she's back home, right? You're from 12?"

You nod again, the motion small, "Yes. She's with my mother, her aunt."

"Well, that was a very brave thing," he commends, almost surprisingly serious, "Not many people are willing to die in someone's place." Your expression wavers, Lucky moves on before it can matter. "And you're?"

"Coriolanus Snow," he says smoothly, "I'm a student at the Academy."

"And you were...told to come here?"

Coriolanus breezes past the speculation in Lucky's tone, "I was told to present my tribute."

Lucky nods, turning on the easy, camera ready smile, "And present her you did."

"Excuse me," a tiny voice mumbles. You instinctually look down. A girl that can't be much more than maybe 7-years-old, "Who was the girl you volunteered for?"

You blink at the loaded question, "Uh--she's my cousin, and her name is Marigold, we--we call her Mari." The little girl blinks at you, watching you like you're something foreign. Which, he guesses, you technically are. "And you know what? She kinda looked like you when she was little."

The little girl beams, "I like your bows."

"Thank you," you hum brightly, like the compliment truly does mean the world to you.

You unlink your arm from his. Coriolanus watches you unsurely as you reach both hands to the side of your hair. You pull at the ribbon on one side of your head, unraveling it expertly. "Would you like one?"

The girl beams, nodding her head enthusiastically. You lean forward so that you're about eye level with the girl. You hand her the short piece of ribbon. The girl giggles before running off with her prize.

"Aw, isn't that cute?" Lucky's speaking to the camera as he starts to walk forward, "Come down, folks, and see these tributes before it's too late. And I do mean, too late."

Lucky disappears, walking as he continues to talk to his audience.

"You gave her your..." He gestures in the general direction of where the ribbon had previously sat.

You shrug, "Oh, I think the other one fell out on the way here. They're impractical, but I didn't--I didn't think I'd be in them for so long."

There's something he should say to you. Probably something comforting, assuring.

"Okay." The stern voice of a peacekeeper. Coriolanus should have known that it was only a matter of time. One of them clasps his shoulder, the other grabs his arm. "You're not supposed to be in here."

He's pushed back before he can speak to you. "Okay," he mumbles, "I'm go--"

You grab his arm before he can obey, "Bring us food." The words are hard, urging, "Please, I haven't eaten anything since before the reaping."

He nods once, pausing long enough to force the peacekeeper to push him back again. Coriolanus starts walking, flanked by the peacekeepers, his eyes trained on what's directly in front of him.

As they pass where the group had initially landed, his eyes find a bright speck of ivory white. A hint of brightness hidden by rocky dirt and grime. Your ribbon.

Coriolanus wonders if it's something you'd want back, something you'd spend your time searching for. You already gave away the other one, it can't have mattered that much. It's likely just some repurposed scrap.

He doesn't know what he's doing as he bends down under the guise of adjusting his shoelace. He's not sure what his goal is until his hand reaches forward, grabbing the ribbon.

"Okay," one of the peacekeepers hurries him, bending down to place a forceful hand on his shoulder, "Hurry up."

----

His apartment is heavy with silence. His grandma'am and Tigris have been asleep for hours now, resting the way he should be.

It's everything that's happened today. That's what's stealing sleep from him. There's a lot to do, a lot to think about if he's going to pull this off and win the Plinth prize. There's an uncertain charm about you. It's as if you have a greater understanding of what it's like to be civilized than the rest of them. That's something to work with, isn't it?

You mentioned needing to eat. Another obstacle that his financial predicaments have placed in his way. He'll have to take a risk he's taken so rarely--taking food from the Academy's lunch in order to bring you something. You'll be of no use to anyone if you faint in the arena.

There's more to think about, to plan. He could stop by tomorrow after his usual classes if Dr. Gaul doesn't orchestrate any specifics. And maybe even then. It'd be ideal to convince you that he cares about you more than any of the mentors care about their tributes. The more you think he's working for you, the more you'll work for him.

That's why he's awake. He shifts, moving from his back to resting on his side. All of this, all thoughts and analysis of you, are extremely practical.

He wipes at his eyes, forcing himself to sit up. He finds his discarded uniform, left folded neatly on his small desk. Without thinking, Coriolanus reaches deep into the uniform's pocket, digging through it until his fingers brush against something smooth and cool. He pulls out the partially stained, ivory ribbon. Truly practical.

----

Taglist (tagging people who were asking about part 2, if this is annoying, i'm so sorry pls lmk if you don't want to be tagged) : @juleshaters @cosmicsully @edb954 @h-l-vlovesvintage @darknessdevil25 @mavkaorlova @astarborntowrite @karmaswitch @daughter1of2anita3dearly @zucchinimalfoy @madislayyy @weaponb33 @darlingisntit @deamus-liv @etheriaaly @clintsupremacy @spookyconsultingcriminal @dylanstilinskiposts

#the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #coriolanus x reader

[theoccultz]

Astrology observations -ll

Mini

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Moon in 3rd house- they might look different from their siblings like they have a major feature that stands out .

Capricorn sun,moon,rising doesn't always mean being the elder sibling but being more mature than others

Neptune in 1st/8th house- is not a manipulative or a mask placement these people are just "adaptive to situations" and have control over the environment ,they can pick up or learn social Etiquette faster .

Neptune 1st house doesn't mean not knowing your identity these people always learn from others hence they change every now & then .

Uranus in 2nd house- is earning money through various resources not going brooke lmfao

its a placement where an individual have multiple interests and they wish to even gain from it .so yep these people appreciate a different lifestyle from their peers

Pisces in 5th house -is a famous placement these people are not stupid let me tell you just leave them in a classroom,streets and they'll get people on their side also its a good placement to catch shady people in entertainment industry these people are aware of everything .

If you think someone is sassy and leaderlike its a leo moon in disguise , they have a reputation for being the tough ones but no no they are pretty emotional and mind others reactions towards them also they are pretty protective of their loved ones .

I'm sorry but scorpio suns have tons of connections its actually insane how they know literally everyone like bae you fbi?

Saggitarius moons are skeptical and they hide it very well also they can catch liars easily i would say "THIS" is the placement of jester .

Aries sun's are actually funny without even trying i could write about them all day ,they are clumsy and just aries y'know

Ok but no one talks about Libra moon stare ? Hello

Kim novak hirai momo Leo di caprio

They have this intense stare ,they look like they know your shit .

9house saturn are unseen by the people around them growing up ,yet they have the most significant glow up in terms of power

Taurus moon on the shadow is aggressive and restless

Scorpio mercury talks in a sluggish way it feels like they are just tired of speaking at this point and no that is not annoying they sound pretty chill

Cancer moon look like they have been through hell and back meanwhile they went to shopping ,i swear they're in their feelings most of the time &they don't give a damn lol

Cancer venus-are misunderstood ,clowns or just going through life i feel for ya guys .....Its masking hurt using humour actually

Oh lord i gotta talk about pisces saturn its like a push and pull feeling you have ,you know you are working towards it but its still pretty tricky to figure out

I know scorpios are observant af ? But Aquarius moon's top the list its like they are so keen on studying every little thing .

Cancer moon x Capricorn moon -toughest duo of zodiacs

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Pics not mine -credits to their rightful owners ,i do not own any pictures.

#astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology #astro community

[bitbugbites-cod]

𝙹𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜, 𝚁𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 | 𝔤𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

Ghost's car sucks -- always breaking down at the worst times. This time, it broke down on Valentine's Day -- right as you were about to leave the house.

ao3 link

word count: ~1.3k

gender: fem! reader

cw: (light) ANGST, FLUFF // arguing lol

a/n: this was going to be longer and include smut, but I'm tired and going to bed so I might make a part two and post it tmr -- but who knows!

p.s. -- screw valentine's day i HATE being single

You said nothing. He said nothing. The two of you just sat.

You shifted in your seat, the leathery seat of the car sticking to your wet thigh, begging it to stay where it was placed. You didn’t comply. 

The man next to you in the driver’s seat, Simon, tapped the wheel, his chest puffing up, then down, with a repressed sigh. It annoyed you the way he never had anything to say – and it annoyed you even more the way he looked so fucking good while doing it.

It was a loud sigh, though. You were surprised you were even able to hear it – rain was thundering down, making loud thunks as it collided with the tinted glass that shielded you from the weather outside of Simon’s Jeep. Which, to note, is a busted-up, no-good piece of junk. It was originally a 2013 Wrangler model that he bought used, and no matter how many times it broke down, he always refused to buy a new car. You can’t begin to count how many times you’ve watched him grumble about it making a funny noise or not starting up before rolling up his sleeves and putting himself under the hood. 

He never understood why you hated it so much – and to be honest, you didn’t either. Your closest hypothesis was that you were sick of finding oil stains on all of his clothes – or that you were tired of trying to go on dates, only to find that his car had broken down. Once again.

This was the case for tonight, at least.

Finally, he spoke, his voice sounding a dry kind of deep. It was what attracted you to him in the first place, but right now, you swore it was the most aggravating sound on earth.

“Another night, then, ‘love.”

Your heart dropped in your chest, your eyes hardening as your emotions bubbled. You felt so angry, so sad, you couldn’t speak. You could barely even breathe. 

“Another night?” you repeated, a scoff threatening to escape your throat.

He paused for a moment, before speaking again. “What do you want me to–”

“It’s fucking Valentine’s Day, Simon.” 

He let out a frustrated laugh, his calloused hands slapping against the wheel. “Fuckin’ hell, I know that–”

“Great. You know that. So then you should also know that ‘another night’ is–”

“What do you want me to do? ‘Huh? What should I do, ‘love? get out the car, pick you up ‘an carry you to the bloody place m’self?”

Adrenaline shot through your body, your blood racing through your veins as your eyes began to water. All you wanted was to go out for Valentine’s Day. To feel cared about. To know he loves you.

Grabbing the car door handle, you thrust the door open. The rain got louder, and without skipping a beat, you threw yourself out into the cold, wet atmosphere, slamming the door shut. You heard him yell after you, but you didn’t stop. You pulled your jacket closer to your body, trying not to slip as your heels collided with the slippery concrete. You were going back to the house, inside, where you would foreseeably spend the rest of the night in bed, sobbing, with him on the couch.

You fucking hated this. You hated how disappointing this was. How disappointed you were.

As you reached the front door of your shared home, you held the freezing key in hand, shaking as you attempted to unlock the lock. You regretted dressing up for tonight, wishing you spent your time on anything else instead. Anything.

You heard another Jeep door slam shut, small sloshes of puddles being brutally murdered by aggressive stomps, and you knew Simon and his stupid, heavy-ass boots were making their way toward you. 

God, him and his walk. Even that was driving you up the wall now.

“Y/N.” his voice boomed, fighting the thick, infuriating volume of the rain.

Believing in communication, you ignored him again. 

Nothing good would come from your mouth right now, and god forbid you opened it, he would learn so many new things about himself.

You would save it for later – when you didn’t want to verbally rip him limb by limb.

But then you felt his drenched hand on your shoulder, droplets of water flowing down your jacket sleeve.

“Y/N,” he repeated, and suddenly, something inside you snapped. 

You started to speak, anger coating your words, but you weren’t able to finish. “The ‘fuck do you want, Simo–” 

Within a millisecond, you watched him lean over, scoop you up by the legs, and start carrying you bridal style down the street. 

You paused, saying nothing as he carried you. He said nothing, too. The both of you said nothing together.

It was like something had reset in your brain – you went from being angry, to confused, to shocked. You had no idea what he was doing, no idea what he was thinking. Hell, you had no idea what you were even thinking – you were so taken aback, that you weren’t even sure you had any thoughts left in your head. Which, is a miracle, considering how many new adjectives you came up with about two minutes prior, for this situation alone. 

You felt the rain soak your skin and outfit, some of it landing on Simon first, sliding down his broad, suited shoulders before coating you. His walk was rough and rugged, you bouncing slightly in his arms as he moved the two of you down the sidewalk. Despite how angry you were a couple of minutes ago, you were being calmed by the second just feeling the rise and fall of his chest, the pumping of his heartbeat, the sound of his breathing.

“Simon?” you spoke, sounding cautious.

He said nothing, only looking down, his brown eyes meeting yours as his wet, blonde hair messily stuck to his forehead in small strands. He looked as dead on the inside as usual, but there was something about his stare this time, that let you know he was sorry. It was almost sheepish, in an intimidating way. 

He is a confusing man.

Nonetheless, you went on with what you wanted to ask. “What…are you doing?”

“I’m walkin’ us to the date.” he said in a gruff, matter-of-fact way.

…

Silence passed between the two of you once more, before you started to crack a small smile, softly laughing at the man’s resolve to solve the problem. 

“I don’t think we’re ‘gonna make it there in time, ‘Monnie.” you said, playing along.

“I said another night, did’n I? We’re gonna get there – ‘just another night.” he quipped. 

You hid your face in your hands, trying to hold back your amusement. It was safe to say that you weren’t angry anymore, at least.

“We’re ‘gonna get hypothermia by then, I think, love?” you replied.

You watched him grin a little, his head moving back up to watch the area in front of him as he walked. “We’ll make a stop at the clinic after, then.”

You laughed, sighed, then laughed again thinking about the stupidity of the situation you were in right now. Simon laughed a little, too.

You started slapping his soaked dress shirt playfully, listening as it made a squelching noise before speaking. “Alright, alright, can we have the date at home instead so that we can skip the whole hospitalization part?”

“I suppose.” Simon replied lightheartedly before slowing to a stop, glancing down at you, changing directions, and walking back towards the direction of the house.

A grin was stuck on your face as the two of you passed by the glowing streetlamps and houses, all while the rain continued to pour down. Suddenly, you weren’t feeling as cold anymore, either – you were glad to be in Simon’s arms.

“You make things really fucking complicated, you know?”

“I know,” he answered.

#simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #ghost fluff #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #cod x reader #call of duty #cod mw2 #x reader #cod x you #simon riley angst #cod angst #light angst #simon riley fluff #fluff #cod fluff #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley cod #cod oneshot #ghost oneshot #oneshot

[jointherebellion215]

Worth

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: You're swept off your feet by one Major John C. Egan, and you love every second of it. Sequel to Birdie.

Word Count: 3.0k

Tags: female!reader, mechanic!reader, women™, period typical sexism & misogyny, fun date night, dude w/ a small dick gets rightfully called out, mostly just fun date stuff, tons of fluff

A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for the kind words on Birdie. I really appreciate everyone's comments, they warm my heart right up. I almost didn't write this, but the thought of having these two smooch it up was too good to pass up. I also completely headcanon that Bucky has the biggest sweet tooth, oops. As always, I'd be most gracious if you were to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog :)

Read the OC Version of this story on AO3!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, please don't copy, repost, or translate my writing without explicit prior permission. Don't even think about it, AI!

A knock at the door brings butterflies to your stomach.

“Oh, he’s here!” Irene shouts, which is immediately met with your shushing, as well as Teresa’s.

You nervously pat your hair and check over your outfit for the evening. You’re spending your second day’s leave on a date with Bucky Egan. He had approached you last night at the pub, asking if you wanted to grab dinner. Alone. 

You, of course, said yes.

Teresa and Irene go to answer the door while you gather your purse, stuffing it with your essentials. Your friends greet him at the same time, sounding like twins.

“Good evening, Major!”

“Good evening, Major!”

You hear his deep voice reply, only a small bit of surprise leaking into his voice.

“Good evening, ladies. Is Birdie around? We have dinner plans.”

“I’m here! Hi.” You step around the wall that hides you from the front door, taking a look at the man you’d been crushing on for months. He stands tall and confident in his neatly pressed uniform, hat covering most of his dark curls. His mouth gapes, giving you a once over and attempting to speak up.

“I- You-…Uh, wow. Y-you look…” But any sweet words he attempts to say are interrupted by Irene, who comes in hot with a manic smile.

“Did you know that my daddy taught me how to shoot when I was just a little girl? I’m real good at it. They call me Oakley, back home, cause of how great a marksman I am. Y’know, like Annie Oakley?” She stepped forward, puffing up her chest and giving a frightening grin to Major Egan. You and Teresa exchanged confused looks, not knowing quite where she was going with this.

“I’m not allowed a sidearm or a rifle over here, but I’m sure I could easily borrow one from any of the fellas on base should you break my best friend’s hea—”

“OKAY! We don’t wanna be late, all the tables might be taken soon. Gotta go. Love you. Bye!” You quickly shove past the blonde, stepping over the threshold. You take Bucky’s hand and practically drag his tall form down the hallway, away from your best friend’s attempt at a shovel talk.

You faintly hear Teresa’s well wishes to you amid the aggressively whispered conversation she has with Irene. The last words you hear before the elevator door closes in front of you are a heavily accented protest from Irene.

“What? I was just trying to..!”

The pair of you stand in the elevator in silence. A slight rocking indicates the starting motion of it, which snaps you back to reality. Looking down, you realize that you’re still holding hands with Bucky. You quickly separate your hand from his, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Your friends seem nice.”

Your head snaps to glance at Bucky, who is already looking at you. A sincere smile graces his face, not a hint of mocking in his eyes. 

“I’m glad you have them looking out for you.” 

You feel your face start to cool down, making you comfortable enough to respond. 

“They drive me nuts sometimes. But they’re the best friends I could ever ask for.” You mean every word. 

You see John nod, so you turn back to look to the elevator doors in front of you. An awkward pause.

“You look beautiful.”

Another pause. “What?”

“It’s what I meant to say earlier. That you look beautiful. Because you do.”

Heat quickly returns to your cheeks, spreading throughout your whole upper body. You give a bashful smile, peeking up at him through your lashes. You gaze into his eyes for a moment.

“Thank you, Johnny. You look quite handsome yourself.” The Major adjusts his hat, covering just the tips of his ears. He returns your gaze with an uncharacteristically nervous grin. The floor gives a slight rattle, elevator door and gate opening to reveal the lobby.

John straightens up, holding out his arm for you to take. You tentatively weave your hand within the crook of his elbow. He gently presses his arm in, bringing your body closer to his. 

You meet your other hand in its position and let Bucky lead you out of the hotel and into the evening air.

✨

“That was so delicious! I never knew that a roast could be so tender…”

The pair of you were walking arm-in-arm down a cobblestone street, just having finished dinner. It was a wonderful time. Bucky had been the perfect gentleman, but made his interest in you clear without being sleezy.

He was entirely focused on you the whole time. He asked questions and was genuinely invested in your answers. Conversation came to the two of you like a duck to water. After a shared glass of wine, his hand had slowly inched towards yours. Soon he had cradled it in his, like you were a precious commodity, until your meals arrived. You could hardly keep your eyes off of each other long enough to even promptly acknowledge the wait staff, which you were sure annoyed some and amused others.

Safe to say, John Egan was doing his best to sweep you off your feet.

You hadn’t discussed any other plans for after dinner, but the walk you’re on now is nice enough to give you reason to stick close together.

Bucky nods along, “And that fruit tart? Incredible.”

You laugh, leaning into your date, “I knew that would be your favorite part. You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, don’t you?” 

Bucky holds his hands up with a mischievous smirk on his face, “Hey, I plead the fifth.” 

“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen someone so adamant on having some coffee with his sugar.” You continue to tease him. He nudges you playfully, giving a smooth grin in return.

“Hey, we’re in a war! If you see something sweet,” Bucky surprises you by picking you up and twirling you around, getting a full belly laugh from you as he sets you back on the ground.

“You gotta snatch it up and enjoy it while you can.”

You have a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about food. 

By that point, you’re leaning against his front, hands on both of his shoulders. The moment has shifted into something else. Something different. His eyes roam your face, eventually stopping on your lips. Just as he starts to lean in, the moment is shattered by the sound of instruments starting up nearby. Bucky flinches, cursing the ill-timed disruption. 

Oblivious to his turmoil, you gasp in delight and look around for the source of the music.

“Do you hear that? I think there’s a band playing!” 

You spot a few people walk into what looks like a club. It barely a stone’s throw from where you’re both currently standing. 

Bucky quickly recovers, “Should we grab a drink? Have a dance or two?”

You beam at him, and his heart stutters in his chest once more. After you give a nod, you place your hand in his arm and let him lead you into the club.

The two of you step into the establishment, and the energy is almost electric. There are mills of people walking about, drinking, talking, laughing. There’s a great score more on the dance floor, hopping and jiving along to the band you now knew you’d heard earlier. There weren’t a lot of uniforms present, but the ones that were were RAF.

Bucky guides you to the bar, hand on your back until you're both sat on a pair of stools. Your drinks are quickly ordered and served, so your night continues. You both allow yourselves to talk shop for a moment, so your conversation turns towards what you were working on before your leave. As you get to discussing the more intricate parts of your project, you hear a scoff from behind you.

John quickly looks over your shoulder, spotting the culprit.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”

You turn around to find a uniformed man taking a sip of his whiskey, RAF logo plastered on the lapel. He mockingly shakes his head, placing the glass down on the bar.

“No, no problem at all.”

Bucky, ever the confrontationist, persists. “It seems like there’s a problem here.”

You gesture towards the man, silently indicating that he was welcome to speak his mind. 

“It’s not enough that you Yanks come over to our country, destroy our pubs and disrespect our women with your recklessness. But you can’t even keep your own women in check! She should be at home, away from the war, for God’s sake. Taking care of the house and the children. You know, doing feminine duties.”

You had heard all of this before, so it was no skin off your back to hear it again. You roll your eyes and decided to just ignore him. Then the man started to laugh, as if he was in on a private joke.

“I mean, a female mechanic? Between that and your daytime missions, it’s no wonder you’re all dropping like flies.”

You let out an exhale, letting the air stream out through your nose. In your periphery, you see Bucky start to stand— to, no doubt, escalate the situation. You stop him with a hand on his chest. He sits back down, looking between you and the man who had just insulted you. You set your glass down, hopping off the stool and giving a slow clap. 

“I’m so glad to know that some people still live in the Stone Age, where apparently all a woman is good for is cooking and giving birth! Thank you so much for showing us exactly what a lack of education and individual thought looks like! See where we are—over in modern times— women can do whatever the hell they want. That includes fixing your planes and jeeps, operating your radios, driving your trucks, and even training your allies to use machine artillery!”

The RAF soldier realizes what he’s gotten himself into but is backed into a corner of the bar as you pace forward with each scathing word that leaves your mouth.

“Never mind all the bullshit you just spouted about what a woman is fit to do. I think that women can decide for ourselves exactly what we can and cannot do. As for my countrymen, I’m proud to serve alongside them. They go up every day willing to sacrifice themselves so that the rest of us don’t have to. They’re gonna be remembered for their bravery and grit. They’re not cowardly enough to hem and haw and stick up their noses at the thought of a woman doing something other than popping out a kid and ironing their pleats.”

The music has dulled down, but you don’t have the complete attention of the club. That gives you the courage to say your final piece.

“Never you mind. I'm confident that the men I serve with, including the man I have with me tonight, aren’t anything like you. Thank God for that! They're not so…” You take an exaggerated glance towards the man’s crotch, scrunching up your nose. “…small-minded.”

Leaving the gaping man behind, you turn to Bucky and ask if he wants to go get some air. He picks his jaw up off the floor quick enough to nod and lead you back outside into the street.

Hey, hanging around Irene pays off sometimes.

As you step out into the night air, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You feel John step up behind you, voice carefully asking,

“Hey, are you okay? Birdie?”

You continue to stand with your eyes closed. You just needed a moment.

“I’ve come too far to let anyone’s opinion of me, or my career choices, effect me.”

You open your eyes and look over your shoulder at your date. He gives an understanding nod, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. You lean back into him, closing your eyes once more, letting him comfort you for the time being.

“Sorry if I ruined the night.”

You can feel a rumble from Bucky’s chest as he chuckles. “Oh, this night’s far from ruined. In fact, that was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

One of your eyes pops open. You crane your neck to peek at him, “Even better than the time you told me about Curt knocking out an RAF officer in one punch?”

“Yep.”

“Winning that bet to get your bicycle?”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Better than your fruit tart from dinner?”

His smile widens, “Okay, let’s not get crazy here. Maybe it was top ten.”

“Top ten?!” You playfully gasp, turning around to face him again. You rest your hands on your hips, “What’s a girl gotta do to rank above a fruit tart around here?”

“Well…” You scoff and shove Bucky at the cheeky smirk he gives you. You’re quickly distracted by the sound of the band inside starting up again. This time with a familiar tune.

“Oh, your song’s on, Johnny!”

Bucky tosses his hat to the side, steps back and gives a very unserious bow. He then sneers with a hyper-nasal impression of the RAF officer you’d just affronted.

“My lady.”

You roll your eyes and give a joking curtsy in return, taking his offered hand. He pulls you into a proper stance for a waltz, which is a complete offset to the jive song that reaches your ears. You both jokingly hop along in the awkward squared formation for a moment, giggling to yourselves. 

He gently pushes on your hip while outstretching his hand, so you take the cue and twirl until you’re both standing at each other’s fingertips. A quick grasp of your hand and a pull twirls you right back into his arms, bumping into his chest. The moment made you burst into laughter, leaning into your dance partner until the song ends. 

The next song is a much slower tune, giving Bucky the chance to pull you in close. You hum along to the band playing, sidling up to the Major’s chest. He places a hand in yours and loops the other around your waist. Your free arm gently drapes under his and over his shoulder, encouraging a lean into his firm body. You both give a slow sway, leading each other back and forth in the quiet echoes of the street. Closer than before.

“You know, I’ve been plucking up the courage to ask you to dinner for a while now.” 

You lay your head on the knuckles of your hand that rest on his shoulder, responding lowly. 

“Really?”

You continue to sway.

“Yeah.”

You’re curious, so you ask, “What made you finally do it?”

He thinks on the answer for a moment, almost chewing on his thoughts. John is not the kind of person to typically contemplate over an answer, so you gift him all the time in the world to respond. You recognize how important that is to him.

“I… I think that it was a lot of little things.” He pulls you in closer. “Your smile, your eyes, the way you talk about the things you love. Birdie, you are so personable with everyone you come into contact with and it’s so magnetic.” 

The flow of compliments shocks you, not expecting this barrage of details to come from the man in front of you. But you dance on anyways.

“But I really think what did me in was yesterday, at the pub. When you looked at me during your song.”

You remember. You know exactly what he was talking about. Whatever he must have felt, you know that you felt it too.

He continues to speak in an intimate tone as you sway along in the street.

“I felt my entire life click into place. It was like everything suddenly made sense. I didn’t have to wonder about what my life was going to be like in five, ten, fifteen years. Because I knew.”

He pulls back to look you in the eye, and the amount of vulnerability in his eyes floors you. 

“I’ll be honest, it scared the shit outta me. It terrified me.”

You understand what he meant. This is all new to him, as it is to you. You pull his forehead to touch yours, noses gently brushing one another, as you offer your best words of comfort in that moment.

“Sometimes, you have to do what scares you the most to find out what’s worth doing.” 

He cups your face, letting his lips ghost against yours. He made his intentions clear, but it was up to you to decide how you move forward.

So, you close your eyes and take the leap.

Your lips press into his, hands stroking the arms that were framing your face. He immediately responds in kind, lips moving in tandem with yours. You melt into him at the reciprocated motion. His arms soon move to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Your arms reach around his neck, hands resting at the nape of his neck. As he deepens the kiss, you run your hands up, down, and through the dark curls on the back of his head, earning a groan from your partner.

A burst of warmth sparks from within your very being, traveling further and further through your body until you’re consumed by flames. Half of your mind is scrambling to make sense of reality, and the other half is completely consumed by passion.

After a moment, you reluctantly separate from one another, panting to catch your breath. It’s as if the world stopped spinning when you connected, and then started up again when you parted. 

Giving a nervous look to the man you just kissed, you’re elated when he gives you an ear-to-ear grin. He grasps one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. His other hand comes up to cup your face again, thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.

You stay silent for the time being, letting the moment marinate. He brings up your joined hands to kiss the back of your palm. Your heart jumps with joy at the sight.

Bucky gives an exhale before breaking the silence.

“You are most definitely worth it.”

#masters of the air #mota #mota fanfic #mota fanfiction #john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #bucky egan fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #john bucky egan x reader #john egan x female reader #john egan x oc #major john egan #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fic #bucky egan x oc #bucky egan x female reader #bucky fanfic #hbo war fandom #hbo war fanfic #curtis biddick #mota spoilers #hbo war oc #WWII era #jada writes sometimes #callum turner fic #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #john egan imagine

[writinground2]

Reconnected - Alessia Russo

Alessia reconnects with an old friend after a long time falling out.

Alessia groaned when she heard she would be rooming with Y/N for the next three weeks at camp. 

Alessia and Y/N had grown up together, playing on all the same teams until Alessia decided to go to America for University and Y/N had decided she was going to attempt to go professional. 

They each respected the others decision and made promises to call all the time, text every day, and facetime at least once a week. 

They parted with a very emotional goodbye and reminder to call when Alessia landed. 

But, as it always does, life got in the way. Busy schedules and time zones took its toll. Weekly calls tuned to monthly, texts would go days without a response. By the end of the first season, they hadn’t spoken in months. Months turned to years, and they ended up not speaking again until Alessia received her first senior call up. 

Alessia had been frozen in place that first time seeing Y/N in years. Ella and Georgia let her pass it off as just anxiety. Y/N smiled and said how good it was to see Alessia again before settling in for the meeting to start camp off. 

Neither spoke about the past, both remained cordial, awkwardness seeping from every interaction the two had. Now, she was going to have to share a room with the girl for three weeks. 

“Ouch, don’t sound so excited,” Y/N mumbled walking by to grab a room key. 

The striker winced, knowing Y/N heard her groan of disappointment. She trudged behind the other player, hoping for some miracle that someone would call out it was a mistake, and they weren’t roommates. Ella gave her a sympathetic smile as she slowly passed. 

Y/N stood outside the room with it propped open, waiting for the blonde catch up. Once she did, she pushed in first, dumping her bags at the bed closest to the door. 

“You still like the bed further from the door?” 

Alessia fumbled for a response, simply nodding, and walking to the other bed. Both started to unpack. Alessia kept glancing over, trying to see if Y/N was as uncomfortable as she was with the situation. Sighing, she continued to shift her clothes around to look busy. 

“Hey, uh, I know,” Y/N started softly, fidgeting with one of the room keys, having moved to stand by the door, “uh, I know this isn’t what you want, and you don’t want anything to do with me. So, I’ll stay out of the room as much as I can and give you your space.”

She walked out of the room before Alessia could even process what was said to her. It had been obvious she was awkward with her former friend, but she didn’t want to make it seem like Y/N was being forced from her room. 

Y/N was true to her word though. For the first week of camp, Y/N would only be in the room to shower or sleep, always slipping in just before curfew and gone before Alessia woke up. Alessia didn’t know where she was going, none of the players did. Y/N wasn’t hanging out in any of the common areas or other players rooms. Anytime not scheduled for team time, Y/N just vanished.

The start of the second week, Y/N came into the room just before curfew, slamming the door behind her. She aggressively grabbed her pajamas from her bag before going into the bathroom, slamming that door shut as well. 

Alessia sat shocked in her bed, dropping her phone to rest on her chest, waiting for Y/N to come out to check on her. 

“Everything ok?”

“Just fucking fine,” she threw her clothes on top of her suitcase, she forcefully flopped into her bed before rolling away to face away from the blonde. 

“Do you, uh, do you want to talk about it?” 

Alessia didn’t know if this was the right move or not. They hadn’t any kind of conversation with meaning to it in years, this might not be the best time to start. 

Y/N didn’t respond, focusing on the wall in front of her. Alessia couldn’t see her face but could hear the faint sniffles and shuffling of the sheets. She knew the other girl was doing her best to mask her crying. 

“You’re obviously upset Y/N, we can chat about it if you want.”

“Just fucking drop it!”

Y/N whipped her body over to glare at the blonde. In the low light left from the bedside lamp between the beds, Alessia could see her bloodshot eyes. But it was also clear that while she was being snapped at, Y/N wasn’t angry, she looked sad and disappointed. Y/N continued to stare Alessia down before moving back to facing away. 

“I’m sorry, if you change your mind, I’m here.”

Alessia clicked the light off before settling in her bed. She tried to sleep, but all she could think about was how upset her roommate was. 

She had been her best friend. They may have drifted apart, but she still cared very deeply for her. She could easily say she loved her when she was younger. Not knowing what the feeling meant at the time, she hadn’t done anything with them, thinking it was normal feel that way about best friends. 

In university, she realized that it wasn’t. That what she felt towards Y/N was so much more and went so much deeper. It had only taken one experience with one of the players from the men’s team to realize that she would never feel the attraction toward men like it seemed she was supposed to, leaving her confused. It also only took one experience with one of the older players on her team to realize that was what she felt. 

Several heartfelt conversations later, Alessia realized what she felt was normal, but by then it seemed too late for her and Y/N and she didn’t understand what had happened. She made a few attempts to maintain the friendship, but things seemed strained and never were what they had been. 

Y/N was gone by the time Alessia woke in the morning. No one saw her until they loaded the bus to head to the field. 

They played the next day and would just being having a light practice that day, with the afternoon off. 

Alessia understood what Y/N was upset the night before. She was handed a different colour pinny than she normal received, seeming to indicate not only would she not be starting but most likely not playing at all. The coaching staff must have told her the night before. 

Several veteran players seemed shocked she wouldn’t be getting the minutes, but most understood. Y/N had been playing terrible the entire camp, it only made sense she wouldn’t be playing. 

England easily pulled out the win the next day. Alessia coming on as a sub, scoring two goals withing five minutes of being on the field.

With the team playing again in only a couple days, the celebration was kept to minimum. Movie night in a conference room of the hotel. Staff brought in brought in popcorn and snacks. Players brought down pillows and blankets, spreading themselves all around the room. Y/N didn’t bring anything down, having again avoided going to the room. She sat stiffly at the back of the room, darting out abruptly once the movie ended, not giving anyone a chance to talk to her. 

“Good! you’re here!” Alessia was excited walking in the room as Y/N stepped out of the bathroom. 

Riding high on confidence of her game earlier, she felt ready to find out why her and Y/N stopped being friends. 

“I’m not in the mood to be mocked,” Y/N mumbled while she put her dirty laundry in her bag. 

“I’m not mocking you, I wanted to talk to you.” 

Y/N stopped her movements and looked over to see if the blonde was serious or not. 

When Y/N didn’t say anything for a minute or make a move to leave, she continued. 

“I wanted to talk to you about us.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. 

“Yes, there is. I want to know why I don’t have a best friend anymore.”

She was speaking much more confidently felt now. 

Y/N let out a humourless laugh, “Ella is your best friend.” 

“You were my best friend and now you’re not, I want to know why.” 

The blonde could tell Y/N was becoming frustrated with the conversation, but she didn’t know when she would have the confidence to bring this up again, so she kept pushing. 

“We promised to talk all the time, no matter what, you stopped replying, you stopped calling.”

“Don’t blame me for this,” Y/N grunted out, doing her best to keep herself from getting angry and raising her voice. 

“I’m not blaming you; I’m just saying, we could have made more of an effort.”

“You don’t remember, do you?” Y/N sneered. 

Alessia was taken back by the sudden venom in the stare Y/N hit her with. She had gone through all their interactions time and time again to try and determine what happened between them, she quickly thought about it again, coming up with nothing. 

“Just drop it Alessia, it’s not worth it rehashing the past.”

Y/N seemed defeated, shaking her head, she made her way into her bed. 

“It is worth it; I want my best friend back.” 

“You didn’t remember then; you won’t remember now. I really don’t want to talk about this anymore.” 

Alessia took a good look at Y/N now, she looked beaten from their conversation. She had tucked herself into a ball, facing away from the blonde. 

Feeling guilty for upsetting Y/N, Alessia softly agreed before getting ready for bed herself. 

Y/N was gone again when Alessia woke up. 

Alessia entered the banquet room for breakfast, just in time to catch Ella yelling at Y/N as she walked away. 

“I don’t know what you did, but you’re hurting my best friend, so figure it out or leaver her the hell alone.” 

Ella had badgered it out of Alessia their first camp as to why the pair were so awkward with each other. Alessia had confided in Ella long ago about her previous friendship with Y/N and how abruptly it seemed to end. 

Ella was protective of her best friend. Knowing Y/N was doing something to upset her, didn’t sit well with her. She set out that morning to confront Y/N, causing a small scene. 

Leah calmly stepped in front of the midfielder when it looked like she was going to follow Y/N leaving the room, “leave it between them Ella.”

Ella continued to glare the way Y/N left before walking to sit back down. 

“And you,” the captained turned to Alessia, “are going to go work whatever out with Y/N before it wrecks her.”

“She’s avoiding me and our room. Besides, I tried last night, and she shut me down.” 

“I’ll get her to your room so you guys can talk, just go wait there for her.” 

Leah turned the striker back to her room before calling Y/N to find where she had been hiding the last week. 

Y/N hadn’t told anyone on the team of her fallout with Alessia. It had been easy enough to figure out there was history between the two players. Both admitted they had a friendship, but Y/N only ever stated they had drifted apart due to distance, leaving it at that. There has never been any issue between the two until this week.

“You and Alessia are going to settle whatever feud you have going on now,” Leah spoke firmly while she all but dragged Y/N back to her room, grip not loosening on her bicep as they walked the distance of the hallway. 

“We aren’t children, you can’t just put us in time out!” 

Leah glared her down, causing Y/N to shrink under the look. She banged on the door for Alessia to open it, shoving Y/N through it once it opened. 

“Figure it out!” she tugged the door shut. 

Y/N sighed and leaned heavily against the door before sliding all the way down to sit on the floor, dropping her head between her knees. 

“I’m sorry Ella yelled at you, she can be a little protective sometimes,” Alessia gave an awkward laugh. 

Y/N didn’t react. 

Alessia fidgeted on the spot while the tension grew in the room. 

“Umm, I guess we do need to talk about it.” 

Y/N tipped her head back with a thud to the door, “guess so. Who doesn’t love ripping open old wounds?” 

“I really don’t know what it is you think I’m supposed to remember.”

“Of course you don’t,” Y/N shook her head with a sad laugh, “since you don’t remember, I obviously just need to get over it. So, I’ll tell Leah it’s all good, you can call your attack dog off, and we can go back to avoiding each other.” 

“That’s not,” Alessia started before Y/N cut her off. 

“Leah!” Y/N called through the door, knowing she would be waiting to make sure the pair did what they were supposed to do, “we worked it out, can we come out of time out now?” 

“No you didn’t!” she called back, “quit behaving like children and work it out!” 

“Damnit,” Y/N muttered.

“Maybe you should just tell me what I did and then we can really work it out instead of having to pretend the rest of our careers?”

Y/N watched Alessia for a minute to determine if she was being sincere or not, “you called me.” 

She shrugged like it was nothing. 

Alessia waited, confused how a phone call that she can’t remember could cause so much trouble. 

“It was the night after you won the ACC your first season. You called me from the hotel, in a hallway or something.” 

She remembered that night. She remembered the seniors brought in a bunch of alcohol to the hotel, the staff ignoring to celebrate the win themselves, and all the players being very drunk. She didn’t remember calling Y/N at all though. 

“You started telling me all about the win and how you got the start and played well. And I was so happy for you. I remember saying how proud I was of you. Then,” 

Y/N paused, opening, and closing her mouth a few times, seeming to work up the courage to tell the blonde what happened. Alessia still working to remember what happened, all she remembered was being really drunk and happy, then hungover the next day. 

“Then you said you loved me,” Y/N finally made eye contact. 

“And before I could say anything you told me you had loved me for a long time, and you described what you loved about me and said some of the sweetest things I had ever heard. You told me you couldn’t wait to see me in person again because all you could think about was kissing me and holding me.”

Alessia inhaled sharply. How could she not remember any of this?

“I told you I would say it back, but not until you were sober enough to enjoy it like I was.” 

Y/N seemed to smile despite herself. 

“You demanded I say it back to you, so I did. But I made you promise me that you would call me the next day sober, and tell me all of that again, so I could say it back to you properly.” 

Alessia felt like she was watching a train crash. She knew how the story was going to end, but she needed to hear the words come from Y/N.

Y/N looked away now, head back between her knees, “you didn’t call back.” 

“I didn’t call back,” Alessia repeated them to herself. 

How could she say all the things she had always wanted to say to Y/N, and never call her back? 

Alessia felt the air leave her chest, her knees buckled, and she collapsed on to the bed next to her. 

“I tried to bring it up once,” Y/N continued, unaware of the turmoil the blonde was going through in front of her. 

“I waited a couple days, thought maybe you needed to get some courage back or something. You called me and I thought you were going to talk about it again, but do you remember what you talked about instead?” 

Y/N had yet to look back up. Alessia nodded to herself, this she all remembered. 

“I asked what I should wear for my date that night.”

“Exactly. And for weeks, you told me all about this girl that you thought you loved.” 

She never loved that girl. 

“But, I, but,” she stumbled to come up with some kind of response, “I’m so sorry Y/N.” 

“It’s alright, past is in the past. It was just a drunken confession fueled by an exciting win. I shouldn’t still be so affected by it. I knew I never should have let myself get my hopes up, so really, it’s my fault.”

Y/N finally pushed herself up and opened the door looking at the blonde sitting on the floor across from them. 

“We worked it out, can I please leave now?”

Leah opened her mouth to argue there was no way they were done but stopped herself when she saw the broken look on Y/N’s face. Immediately she stood up and pulled Y/N into her arms, agreeing they could be done. 

Ella went to push herself in to check on Alessia only to pushed back out by a hand on the chest from the blonde. She gripped Y/N’s bicep when she went to walk away, tugging her back into the room. 

“We aren’t done.” 

“Please Alessia, please can we be done? I promise I’ll leave you alone and just stay out of your way,” she looked to Leah, “I promise to play better, can we please just drop it?” 

“I meant what I said.”

“You don’t even remember what you said,” Y/N leaned her weight into Leah, taking as much comfort as she could, “I felt like a fool for believing them, I still feel like a fool.” 

Leah remained silent, offering her support to Y/N. Ella made her way to Alessia when she saw the tears in her best friends eyes, she wanted to demand Y/N fix whatever she started. 

Alessia shook her head, keeping her friend back. She deserved to suffer alone right now. Y/N had been feeling this pain for years alone. 

“I don’t remember the phone call or what I said, but I remember what I felt. I remember that I never wanted to let you go in the airport before I left. I remember that when anything happened you were the first person I ever wanted to tell. I remember that I broke up with that girl because she, well because she wasn’t you. Everything she did I compared to you. And everyone after that wasn’t you.”

Alessia hated that they needed to have this conversation in the hallway right now, but she would tell Y/N anything she needed to hear. 

“I remember freezing my first time seeing you at camp because you were just as gorgeous as I remembered. I remember the medical staff almost failing me because my heart rate was too high while you ran next to me.” 

Y/N pulled away from Leah and was watching the blonde intently. 

“Fuck, I hate that I can’t remember that phone call. And I hate that I can’t remember you saying it back to me, because that was all I could dream of while I was there. I have loved you since I knew what love was, Y/N.” 

Ella and Leah both slowly made their exit and let the pair continue talking, Leah gently nudging Y/N back towards the room. Alessia immediately stepped back, hoping that Y/N would follow her back, not taking her eyes off her. 

Y/N tentatively followed her in, gently closing the door behind her. 

The room was silent while both worked out where to go from there. All their feeling were out in the open to see.

Alessia realized she was still going to need to be the one to take the lead and steer the conversation. 

“I cannot say sorry enough for the pain that I put you through Y/N, but I really want us to try and be friends again.” 

Y/N nodded along. 

“I think I need some time Al.”

Alessia melted at the nickname only Y/N used. 

“That’s fair Y/N. Can we start as roommates?” 

“We can start as roommates,” she confirmed. 

The striker slowly stepped closer to Y/N, stiffly opening her arms for a hug. She only needed to wait a moment before Y/N stepped in. 

Both women were ridged to begin with, gradually melting into the long-lost touch. 

Alessia woke the next morning to Y/N still in her bed. The pair even made their way to breakfast together, sitting at the same table. Ella continuously flicked her eyes between the two, seemingly waiting for something to blow up again. 

No one else said anything, allowing the friendship to repair itself. 

That night, Alessia laid wide awake staring at the ceiling, she couldn’t get her thoughts to stop whirring. She hadn’t been able to get them to stop since they spoke the day before. 

“Why did you let me talk about those girls all the time if you were waiting for me to call back?” 

Y/N let out a sigh and rolled on to her back. 

“I only ever wanted you to be happy Al. And if that meant you being with someone else, then I was going to just accept that.”

“But you ran away.” 

It was blunt, but not confrontational. 

“Uhh yea I did. Eventually I just couldn’t hear about them anymore. I did my best to, I really did. But talking to you was, it was, god, it was the best part of my day,” Y/N smiled, tilting her head to see Alessia already looking at her, “then when we would start talking about your girl, I just couldn’t handle hearing it anymore.” 

The smile dropped on Y/N’s face, but the pair continued to stare at each other. 

“I still love you, you know, I never stopped,” Alessia whispered. 

Y/N nodded. 

The rest of camp Alessia and Y/N the awkwardness slowly between slowly dissipated.

By the next camp, it was as if the last few years had never happened. After the last camp ended, they texted every day, calling almost weekly, they had even managed a few dinners. 

The pair were attached at the hip for the entirety of the camp. 

Alessia could hardly contain herself now that Y/N was back in her life. She constantly sought Y/N out, her eyes seeking out the girl at any chance she could. Her body always seemed to drift closer than it should. 

“You’re going to be dehydrated if you keep drooling over Y/N,” Ella rolled her eyes as she flicked a dirty sock at her friend.

The blonde scowled at her friend, gently kicking her in the shin, she took her eyes off Y/N and continued getting dressed. 

“I’m trying. We just became friends again, I can’t push her for more already, I won’t ruin our friendship again.”

“You know she’s waiting for you this time,” Leah nudged Y/N on the other side of the change room. The defender seeing the way Alessia had been watching Y/N all camp. 

“I’m not getting hurt like that again Leah,” Y/N spoke firmly, shoving her stuff in bag before storming out of the change room. 

Alessia watched the interaction. Leah gave her a sad look. It was obvious the striker was doing her best to hold back her feelings. 

It felt like a delicate balance. Push enough that Y/N knew she still loved her, hold back enough to not spook her away. 

By the end of camp, the pair had danced around all each other. Alessia would push a little, Y/N would retreat, so Alessia would pull back. Alessia remained steady though, she knew what she did hurt Y/N deeply, she would be patient until Y/N was ready for more. 

The last night, the team went out after their game made things difficult for Alessia. She was sat at a table with Y/N pressed tight against her. Feeling the slight buzz from the win and the liquor Alessia leaned into her in return. 

Y/N’s hand kept drifting to Alessia’s thigh under the table unconsciously, before taking it away, mumbling an apology. After the third time it happened, Alessia grabbed her wrist before she could pull it away. Alessia watched for a reaction, Y/N bit her lip, giving her thigh a brief squeeze and left her hand there. 

Several shots later, they all moved to the dance floor. Alessia pulled herself away from Y/N, knowing she would not be able to keep herself from pushing their invisible boundary formed.   

Ella rolled her eyes when she saw what Alessia was doing. She grabbed Alessia by the shoulders and forced her to turn around so her chest would be flush against Y/N’s back. Alessia tried to pull away, shooting a look at Ella over her shoulder. Ella just shook her head and guided Alessia’s arms around Y/N before walking away to leave the pair alone. 

Y/N leaned into the touch, then turned into the blonde so their chests were tight together. The motion causing her hands to drop to low on Y/N’s hips. 

Alessia gripped her hips, pulling her in even closer. Y/N draped her arms over Alessia’s shoulder. They moved in time to the music together, the outside world tuned out. 

Alessia dipped her chin, brushing her nose alone Y/N’s jaw, her lips just brushing the delicate skin of her neck. She gripped Y/N’s hip tighter at the sigh Y/N let out, her control slowly slipping away.

“I love you,” Alessia rasped out, kissing just below Y/N’s ears. 

Their bubble immediately popped. 

Everything sounded loud and overwhelming to Y/N. Her whole body went rigid, and she started to pull away. 

Alessia immediately knew she pushed too much too soon. She tried to tighten her grip to keep Y/N close to her, but it was too late, the girl was already pushing her way out of the crowded of the dance floor. 

She wasted no time rushing after her. 

She skidded around the corner to see Y/N leaned against the wall, head in her hands, trying to catch her breath. 

Alessia slowly approached her, “Y/N, I am so sorry.” 

“I just need a second Al,” Y/N shook her head, waving a hand to keep the blonde away. 

Alessia stopped moving, giving Y/N the space she asked for. 

“I have wanted this for so long Al.” 

Y/N anxiously paced in a circle. She wanted so bad to rush over and kiss the blonde or go back into the bar and be back in her arms. But she was so scared to get hurt by the woman again. 

“I can’t be hurt again,” Y/N finally stopped moving and looked towards the blonde. 

Alessia wanted to the cry when she saw the unshed tears in Y/N’s eyes, she looked devastated. 

Taking a breath, Alessia gathered her thoughts before continuing.

“I wish I could promise I would never hurt you again, but I can’t. I can promise I will do anything I can to never hurt you again. I meant what I said in the club, I meant it when I said it months ago, and I will mean it every day for the rest of my life.” 

She had slowly closed the distance between herself and Y/N. Slowly she gently curled both hands to hold Y/N’s face, thumb soothing across her cheeks. 

Y/N leaned into the touch. Letting a slow breath out, she slowly closed the distance, letting their lips brush. The touch so gentle it was almost like it didn’t happen. 

They rested their foreheads together. 

Alessia clenched her jaw, she wanted to lean in again and kiss Y/N again. Y/N’s hands came up to rest on Alessia’s chest. 

“I mean it Y/N, I will love you forever and I will spend every day showing you.” 

Y/N curled her hands into the fabric of Alessia’s shirt and pulled her in. They slammed their lips together at the same time. This kiss more of everything. It let out all the feelings each had been holding back since they were teens. 

“I love you too,” Y/N whispered out when they pulled away. 

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader

[petrapalerno]

Submitting to the Alien Barbarian #6

Surprise--Double chapters today! Also a tiny bit of housekeeping, I've changed the alien's skin from blue to purple. Chapters have been changed retroactively to support this.  XOXO, Petra

Alien x fem reader, a dom/sub erotic short.

TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, breath play, and violence.

MASTER POST

PREVIOUS

You really didn’t put up much of a fight for the whole ‘mated to Drohako’ thing, and the alien barbarian almost gives you time to reconsider yourself between orgasms...But maybe it’s for the best you’re not overthinking this one too much.

Currently, you’re having trouble forming any thoughts as your alien barbarian mate won’t stop eating you out.

You grab a set of his horns and pull, with all your might, to get him to release your super sensitive clit from between his lips.

Your hips press into the ground as you do everything you can to escape his attentions.

But Drohako’s tongue doesn’t stop, and his fingers push his dripping seed back into your pussy as he does.

Even though his knot released what feels like hours ago, he won’t let you find any rest.

“So wasteful of my seed, little human,” he growls into the apex of your thighs. “Don’t you fucking dare let a drop leave your cunt!”

Once he’s scooped the spilled cum from your thighs and plugged it back up into you, he puts two knuckles at your entrance like a cork.

“Drohako, I’ve got to be more cum than water at this point!” You yelp as his tongue laps firm circles all round your swollen clit.

“Don’t care, shut up now, human. Be good for once,” he mutters before resuming his sucking.

Another orgasm? You can’t let that happen again. There has to be a limit to how many orgasms the human body can handle, right? What if this is the one that makes your heart give out?

When you realize that trying to pry him off you by the horns isn’t working, you shove your hands down as a barrier between your oversensitive flesh and your alien mate’s tongue.

He growls, letting one of his sharp teeth break the skin of your knuckle before gathering your wrists easily in his massive palm. He pins your hands above your head and continues to feast on you ravenously.

“Drohako, st-stop. It’s too much,” you whine as your nerves are firing so aggressively you’re afraid your brain might short circuit.

“Stop? You were so eager to come just a few minutes ago. I’m just giving you what you want. If the pleasure is too much, consider it a consequence of your own actions,” Drohako pops his head up and snarls at you before diving back down.

It’s like you're running a marathon, but actively attempting to avoid the finish line. You’re exhausted. The muscles in your core are burning from overuse. Your pussy is probably still gaping from his knot, and your entrance stings where his knuckles plug you up.

You can’t come again, you don’t have it in you.

At least that's what you tell yourself as you feel your muscles coil and tighten.

“I—I—I can’t,” you sob with each agonizing pulse.

“Be a good fucking girl,” he growls, pushing your thigh down as it attempts to snap closed over his head.

“Be a good girl and I’ll reward you. Listen to your mate.”

He speaks as if you could stop the freight train of an orgasm that crashes into you.

Instead of the usual enjoyable clenching feeling, your body shakes uncontrollably.

Your eyes roll back as he presses his tongue against you, undulating as some kind of agonizing pleasure rips over your body.

The noises coming from your mouth sound like an injured animal and you’re not sure if you’ve squirted or wet yourself.

Do you even care? It seems like an unimportant detail. You’ve already lost control of your motor skills.

You can’t even remember your own name as Drohako slows his pace. The furious licking of before is replaced by him running his tongue over your outer lips, just skirting the sensitive and swollen flesh of your privates.

Are your eyes shut or open? The only thing in your field of vision is blackness.

You’re still twitching when he gathers you up in his arms. He lays you on some soft platform, and you can hear the sloshing of water.

Starting at your brow, Drohako swipes a wet cloth down your face. Your sight slowly comes back into focus, as you see purple hands wringing out red water into the bowl. Slowly and methodically, he wipes the dirt and sweat from your skin. The hours you’ve spent fucking on the cave floor have tinged your skin crimson, similar to this planet’s red earth.

He wets it again and drags it over your tits and torso. You stiffen as his hands dip, expecting him to wash your still throbbing pussy. He pauses at your body’s reaction.

“Calm down human, my tongue cleaned there enough,” he says unusually softly.

“Oh, okay,” you croak out a little awkwardly.

The cloth drags down the outside of your hips and to your bare feet. You try to tug your foot back as it tickles when he moves the cloth between your toes.

“Stillness, please,” Drohako asks with exasperation more than anger.

“Sorry,” you tell him, too spent to brat any further.

When he walks away, you’re wondering what’s next. Will you finally sleep? Will he drag you into the healing spring and try to get you back into fucking shape?

Do you dare ask him for rest?

When he comes back, he has a bowl that looks like it was cut from some kind of dried gourd. He dips his fingers in and scoops out a thick and goopy substance.

You push up onto your elbows, groaning as you do, the occasional shake still wracking your body at random intervals.

“What’s that?” you ask suspiciously.

“Rendered kurthari fat, with herbs,” he says plainly as he warms it between his palms. You can smell the sweet plants as the oils release with the friction of his hands.

“And what exactly are you planning to do with it?” You arch a brow, unsure of where this is going.

“Your reward, as long as you keep behaving,” a hint of a smile cracks his face.

You can’t go again…and why the fuck does he think he’s going to need lube now if he’s found it unnecessary for his enormous cocks before?

“Drohako, I really can’t fuck. I’m spent—“

“Lie on your stomach, human.” He says, rolling his eyes with annoyance.

“I’m serious, you’ll hurt me if we go much longer,” You get a panicky edge to your voice.

As he listens to you, his face softens.

“I will not fuck you. Calm down. Remember, if you listen to your mate, you will be rewarded.” He speaks soft and low. The usual spark of viciousness is gone from his eyes.

“Promise?” You ask him, only a little desperate.

“Lie down and be quiet,” he whispers, putting his slick hands on your hips and turning you over.

Your face buries into a pile of furs, and you realize for the first time that he’s placed you into some large curtained bed.

“You have a bed and we’ve been fucking on the floor all day?” You bark at him, shocked at the revelation.

“You seem to enjoy being fucked into the dirt.”

Well, he’s probably not wrong.

When his hands grab the meat of your ass, you tense. You can’t help it.

“Drohako, please,” you whisper, hoping that whatever he has planned won’t break you.

His fingers dig deep into one of your hip joints, like he’s searching your muscles for something.

“What are you doing?” You swivel your head to get a better view.

He doesn’t answer you, but lets his fingers glide over your flesh until he finds a spot of tension. His palm presses and kneads a knot in your glute. The pressure is slightly painful, but in a way where you know your body will thank him later.

“…are you massaging me?” You ask in disbelief.

“Humans must be quite an advanced species to decipher such mysteries,” he scoffs sarcastically before moving to your other hip.

“I just thought that you were going to, I don’t know—ugh,” you grunt as he gets deeply into a ball of muscle.

“You thought I would rape you?” He says coldly.

“I, I mean…”

“I’d fall upon my blade first,” he says as he moves to the small of your back. “It’s my job to protect my mate and to ensure you’re safe and happy to carry our young. Don’t you dare imply I’d ever do that again.”

His hands move to your neck, and you groan as he pushes the bones of your shoulder blades aside to press the tips of his fingers deeper into the joint.

“But what—fuck oh my god that feels good—what if…” You trail off as his fingers release what feels like a lifetime of tension.

“What if what?” He asks, picking up your suddenly much more pliable body and tucking it against his as he sits on the bed. His oily palms cups both of your breasts.

“Hey, you said no sex!”

“How is holding your udders sex?” He asks you.

“One, please never use that word again, and two…I mean, touching usually leads to sex.” You tell him, appalled at his choice in words.

“Don’t be stupid,” He says as he lifts your heavy breasts up, instantly taking tension off your back. “Breathe, deep breaths,” he instructs.

You almost protest, but the sensation of filling your lungs unencumbered by the weight of your tits is a weirdly amazing feeling.

“In through your nose and out through your mouth,” he whispers into your ear, cupping and supporting you in a way you only wish a bra could. “Good girl,” he tells you as you relax back into his chest.

“What if I need you to stop? What if it’s actually too much?” You keep breathing, closing your eyes as you focus on the rise and fall of his chest.

“Trust me, I won’t hurt you anymore more than you want me to,” he whispers.

“Can we have a safe word?” You ask cautiously.

“I do not know this term. What makes a word safe?”

“It’s a word that we don’t use in regular conversation. That if one of us says it during our time together, we stop. No questions asked.”

He hums a little in your ear, as if he’s considering the option.

“If it makes you feel secure, I will do this,” he tells you as he releases your breast. His finger tips move to work the tissue near your armpit, making you wince.

“It would,” You grit through the pain. “You can use it too, if you need to,” you tell him.

Drohako laughs with his entire chest, shaking you in the process. “Very funny, human! What word would you like to choose?”

You think for a moment, and the perfect word flies into your mind.

“Udder, you’re not allowed to say it unless something is too painful or too intense. Sound good?” You smile, pleased to have all but eradicated that word from his vocabulary.

“But then what will I call these?” He asks, sliding slick hands over your nipples.

“Breasts, tits, boobs, fun bags, literally anything else,”

“Fine,” he seems disappointed. “If you say ‘udders’ I will stop, no questions asked.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, tilting your head back to meet his golden gaze.

“It’s a simple request. Do not make a bigger deal of it than it is, human,” he brushes off the gesture and moves his hands to your thighs, sliding more of the sweet smelling fat down your sore legs.

NEXT

#monster fucker #monster fuqqer #monster smut #monsterfuqqer #monster romance #monster lover #smut #terato #aliens #i love aliens #alien romance #alien x reader #alien x human #alien #Petra palerno #STTABshort

[mytaiyakeylover]

you taste like roses.

synopsis: your boyfriend seems to be pretty sad lately, so you decide to give him a surprise.

pairing: mikey x gn!reader

warnings: maybe some signs of obsessive behavior, just a tiny bit of angst (not even sure if this counts) and kissing.

word count: 1.3k

series masterlist | previous | next

Charcoal eyes blinked sleepily at the sound of knuckles hitting a wooden surface. The blond, however, opted to ignore it in favor of getting some more sleep. A minute or so passed, yet the sounds did not seem to fade. Manjiro huffed, a loud groan escaping his lips. There was no way the boy was going to leave the comfort of his bed to open the door. He had already made that decision when he was forcefully pulled out from his deep slumber.

The knocking did not cease, and Manjiro pressed the pillow harshly against his ears to muffle the sounds. Where was Emma? Oh, right… He had forgotten that she had stayed over at Hinata’s place for a sleepover. For once would he actually prefer she was home, but no, she just had to go and have a sleepover. Not to mention with a person she barely knew! The betrayal…

Realizing that the visitor — or rather, his next victim — would not leave, the blond angrily threw his pillow to the floor as he got out of bed. Stomping towards the front door, he could hear Shinichiro's distant cries, warning him not to do something he might regret. Ignoring his own conscience, the blond swung the door open forcefully, fully prepared to confront and unleash his fury on the person who awaited him.

However, instead of being met by the face of some random dumbass, it was you who were standing before him. Smiling all innocent as if you hadn't just woken him up from his very much needed slumber at god knows what hour. Though, the boy couldn’t bring himself to be mad. You were just being so cute, and he could already feel his mood begin to lift from his previous tantrum.

Before the boy could utter a word, he felt something being shoved against his face. A sweet and tender fragrance entering his nostrils as a type of unknown euphoria spread through his senses. Opening his eyes, charcoal was met by deep and vibrant crimson, an ocean of blood-red roses presented before them.

A smile soon found its way to his face, albeit slightly shaky, cheeks flushed with a soft shade of pink. His hands were trembling just a little bit and he could feel a tornado of butterflies swarming aggressively inside his stomach. “What’s this for?” He asked, voice strained from emotion.

You smiled at him with that endless sweetness that you met everyone with, but was always a bit softer and more affectionate when directed at him. (E/c) eyes conveying nothing but pure adoration and endless devotion that made his heart squeeze whenever eye contact was made between you both.

The answer didn’t come straight away, as you looked down to avoid making further eye contact. A sudden portrayal of shyness that wasn’t present before. Hands fidgeting as you played with the hem of your shirt. Then you faced him again, cheeks coated with a pinkness of your own.

“It’s just that you’ve been kind of down lately and I wanted to cheer you up,” you mumbled quietly, a faint smile grazing your lovely lips.

Oh, how lucky he was to have you by his side.

“Do you not like them?” You asked, eyes betraying a hint of worry and uncertainty. Manjiro shook his head in response to your question. Because how could he not like them? They were a gift from you. Everything that came from you held an air of divinity and otherworldliness. Should anyone believe otherwise, he would make sure to change that.

“No, of course I like them,” he found himself speaking in a rather rushed manner, nervousness getting the best of him. He just couldn’t help it. The giddiness was unbearable. Knowing how much you must have worried about him to come so early in the morning to make his day better. All this, simply done for the sake of his happiness.

“But you didn’t have to come this early (Y/n)-chan,” he said, shaking his head amusedly. “You know how much I hate waking up too early in the morning.”

A fleeting hint of mischief passed your pools of (e/c) as you snickered slightly for some unknown reason. Manjiro arched an eyebrow at that, not quite understanding what was so funny.

“Jiro, it’s 2 in the afternoon,” you said, soft giggles escaping your lips. Cheeks flushing red at your words, the blond hid his face behind the bouquet of roses he held in his grasp. Then he felt your soft, slightly cool fingertips, touching his hands, as you carefully lowered the flowers in his hands to get a look of his face.

Manjiro sighed, coal eyes peering at you with fondness, enjoying the way your soft hands caressed his own, as you were still trying to calm down from the excessive giggling. A sudden idea entered his mind as he continued to stare at your pretty lips, tongue peeking out to wet his dry ones. The boy leaned in, left hand cupping your slightly flushed cheek.

Giggles were suddenly muffled as a soft texture pressed against your exposed lips. You blinked in surprise before relaxing and leaning into his soft touch. The rosy scent coming from the lonely rose petal between your lips adding some sort of dreaminess to the sensation, as your mouths moved in a sensual dance, lips molding together.

The blond boy sighed against the floral leaf as his other hand let go of the bouquet in favor of sneaking his arm around your waist. Thumb drawing absentminded circles on your soft, plush cheek as he pressed your body closer against his own — if that was even possible. He just couldn’t take it. He needed to feel you, to hear you, to smell you. He needed your everything — whatever you were willing to give and beyond.

However, like every human did, you needed air. So your soft, gentle, tender hands began to push his chest. But Manjiro didn’t budge, needing you just as much, if not even more. He felt as if he would suffocate in the next few seconds, were your body to get away from his own.

You panted as the boy finally let go, cheeks now flushed with a deep shade of crimson. Petal falling down from where it had been previously held captive, floating freely in the air until it reached the cold pavement. Vibrant red texture now scrunched and dry-looking in appearance. Manjro’s kisses were always sweet and gentle, but could sometimes turn passionate and demanding — possessive even.

Manjiro stared at you, mind filled with spiraling thoughts of you, you, you… He pressed his forehead against yours, breaths mixing together as neither of you still have managed to calm down from the wonderful kisses you both shared. Coal eyes filled with adoration and endless pinning for you.

“I love you,” he breathed out, admiring the dreamy and slightly dizzy look on your face. The sound faint, but holding so much emotion within it, you feared your knees would give out. Manjiro smirked at that, finding your state truly mesmerizing. A sense of pride enveloping his senses at the fact that he was the one to make you feel this way.

Then you smiled, that usual breathtaking smile that was just so you. And the blond felt his breath catch in his throat, unable to produce anymore thoughts. Mind growing empty as you uttered the words he always found himself craving to hear, despite the many times you’ve already uttered them to each other. The sound faint, like a distant whisper, yet so powerful it shook through his core.

“I love you, too.”

#yandere #soft yandere #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro x reader #tokyo revengers sano manjiro #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #mikey sano #mikey x reader #tr mikey #sano mikey manjiro #yandere mikey #yandere manjiro sano #mikey tokyo revengers #mikey x y/n #mikey x you #mikey fluff #tokrev mikey #toman mikey #sano manjiro one shot #manjiro sano #manjiro sano x you #manjiro sano x y/n #sano manjiro #tokyo rev x you

[snowyquokka]

ALL HANDS ON DECK

pirate jisung x gn reader

cw: smut MDNI, sub jisung, dom reader, oral *m receiving*, swearing, jisung’s held captive, shitty grammar, uhhh i think that’s it (?)

wc: 0.5k

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. Han Jisung, the man who has been the bane of your existence since you first saw his face, is here on your ship. Against his will, of course.

You circle him, his body tied to a chair. He’s thrashing and whining as he tries to free himself.

You tut, “Look at you thinking you can escape. How cute.”

Jisung stills. “W-what do you want from me? I’ll give you anything, just let me go.” The way his voice sounds while he begs ignites a fire in your stomach. You stop at his side and tilt his head so he’s looking at you.

“I essentially want the same thing as you,” you smirk and drag your index finger down his cheek. He is a heavenly sight to see; his ruffled shirt messy and wrinkled, his hair tousled and damp with sweat, and fuck, his eyes. His eyes are a deep brown, filled with desperation and a hint of something else you can't quite put your finger on.

“What do you mean ‘you want the same thing as me’?” Jisung sounds timid. Good. You lean down into his ear and speak in a low, sultry voice; “I’ve seen the way you look at me from afar,” you look down at the growing tent in his tight black pants. His face flushes a pretty shade of pink. He swallows audibly and shudders.

“What's the matter, Ji? I know you want me and, truth be told, I’ve been wanting you too. All you have to do is use your words.” Jisung nearly jumps out of his skin.

He whimpers and almost faints as you sink to your knees in front of him.

“Speak,” you command.

“Pleas-ah,”

“Good boy,” you slide his pants down just enough to give you access to his dick and reveal his precum-stained boxers. You look into his eyes while you kiss him through the cloth.

Jisung struggles against the ropes and bites his lip.

“I’m sorry baby, but you need to earn it. Be good for me and I’ll let you touch me, yeah?” He nods aggressively and relaxes into the chair.

You pull him out of his boxers, eyes widening as you take in his size. There is no way you’d be able to fit him all but you aren't one to turn down a good challenge. You grin as breathy whimpers and moans escape his parted lips.

Seeing him squirm while you deepthroat him makes you clench around nothing and fills you with desire. But you won’t give in, right now is about pleasuring Jisung. Besides, you think you might come just by hearing his sweet sweet moans.

“y/n y/n. I’m gonna-mmm. I’m gonna come,”

“By all means baby,” You grin and take his load in your mouth, swallowing it all.

Jisung almost comes again when you swipe some of his release off of your lips with your thumb and make him lick it off.

“Good boy. Mmm, that's my good boy.” You untie him and are immediately pulled into his lap, his hands roam all over your body as you kiss.

“You. I want you.” Jisung mumbles into your mouth.

“You sure you can handle it?”

tags: @godslino

divider: @chaeneuu

#skzstarnet #snowyquokka #skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz reader insert #han jisung #skz jisung #jisung x reader #skz reactions #han jisung x reader #stray kids smut #han jisung smut #sub han jisung