#I’ll watch when they finish the anime that’s the rule with me

[gaymcwee]

I don’t know what fuckin dungeon meshi is man but I keep seeing that guys junk

[ichorai]

thread ; coriolanus snow.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; “they’re all just copying us, you know,” he said, sounding almost bitter. 

“of course they are,” you replied, taking a drawn-out sip from your cup. “we showed them there’s no sharks in the water. obviously they’re going to jump in.”

words ; 6.6k

themes ; mild fluff/angst, action

warnings / includes ; themes of classism, violence/injury/death/drug misuse, coryo's paranoia, he isn't exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Coriolanus came late to class. He rushed in, uniform only slightly askew, and hair messier than usual. You moved your bag aside so he could take a seat beside you. With a nod, he slipped into the row and began laying out his books. 

You wondered how Tigris reacted once he got back home. Probably worried sick for her cousin and her friend. Your father, of course, was furious with you once he learned about your tryst with Coriolanus in the Capitol Zoo, but there was little he could do when he was off working in the districts. During dinner with your mother, Lucretius Flickerman, and his wife, the tributes and the games were practically all the three could talk about. Lucky was going to be the first ever host, apparently.

How fun.

To neither of your surprise, Highbottom eyed the two of you with disdain. When you had strode into the hall, he remained silent. Coriolanus’ arrival seemed to tip him right over the edge.

“Both of your little excursions were in violation of about five different academy rules,” he grumbled. “Chiefly amongst them—endangering a Capitol student. Yourselves.”

“There were peacekeepers crawling all over the place,” Coriolanus retorted. 

The dean’s nose twitched angrily. Then, he fixed you with a harsh look over his spectacles, and drawled out your name. “Since you are the academy’s brightest, and your records have been… untarnished until now, I will let you off with a warning.” There was a pause, before the dean continued. “Mr. Snow, I’m moving for the gamemakers to disqualify you as mentor, effective immediately.”

“What?” the two of you exclaimed at once.

“You said we had to get them to perform, not stay away!” Coriolanus just about spat.

“I’ll add insubordination, as well,” Highbottom replied, tone venomous.

Raising your hand and ignoring the dean’s irritated exhale, you haughtily said, “It was me who went into the tribute’s truck. Coriolanus only followed. We didn’t know that we’d end up in a zoo enclosure.”

Arachne tittered with condescending laughter. “Yeah, and then you held hands with them. Made it seem like we’re the same as those animals.”

From your other side, Sejanus was quick to defend the two of you. “Coriolanus and Y/N didn’t show those people anything they didn’t already know.”

Stiffening, Coryo scowled and said, “I don’t need your help, Sejanus.”

He ignored him and continued on, “That the tributes are human beings, just like us. That’s why nobody wants to watch the games—because people know, deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn’t justify starving people’s children, taking away their freedoms, their rights!”

“Dean Highbottom,” you called, not bothering to raise your hand this time. “How is it fair that Coriolanus gets disqualified while I’m not? We did what you told us to do! We were just trying to get to know our tributes.”

“Would you like to be disqualified as well? I can surely arrange for that to happen,” he deadpanned. “But poor little Wovey would be left all on her own.”

Nausea coiled within your abdomen. You drew yourself up to your full height. “Well, that would be entirely unnecessary—” 

Before you could finish your sentence, the doors to the lecture theater swung open once more, and Dr. Volumnia Gaul crept in, footsteps completely silent. How she managed that, you weren’t at all sure.

With everyone’s eyes on her, she fixed her stare on the two of you. Her hair was wrangled back into a high up-do, tall and grey on her head. 

“Quite a show you two put on. You’re good players,” she said, voice booming throughout the theater. “The hunger games needs good players. Maybe one day you’ll be gamemakers, like me.”

The thought sent chills up your spine. Coriolanus kept his expression stoic.

“If the games continue at all,” said Highbottom.

Singular blue eye flashing, Dr. Gaul grinned in an unnerving manner. “Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Snow and L/N in that zoo? The people would never stop wanting for more.” She drew closer to the rows of seats, gloved hand trailing over a few of the desks. “I came here to ask the star mentors a question… what are the hunger games for?”

You and Coriolanus exchanged a quick glance.

“They’re to punish the districts for their uprising,” he said, as if it were obvious. “To commemorate the end of the war.”

Volumnia’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, in a similar fashion to a snake.

“And what would you say, Y/N?”

It was hard to maintain eye contact with her, especially because it felt like she could peer into your very soul and dissect you apart from inside out—but you managed. With your father being such an avid supporter of the hunger games, you wondered if your answer would be what she was looking for. “I don’t agree with the games. But I know it’s because—fear is power. Keep the districts afraid for themselves, for their children, and you’ll always have the upper hand.”

She smiled, wide and eerie. “You’re right. Fear is power. But punishment and fear can take many forms. They can come from bomb droppings, the cancelling of food shipments, stage executions. The question is, why games?”

Defensive, Sejanus spoke up, “Shouldn’t we be asking whether or not it’s right in the first place?”

“You have a problem with my games?” she asked, unimpressed.

“Some of those kids were two years old when the war ended! The oldest of them were only eight!” he exclaimed. “The Capitol is supposed to be everyone’s government now. It is supposed to protect all of us. I don’t see how making children fight each other to the death is protecting anyone.”

With a sneer, Dr. Gaul told him, “That sort of sympathy might be interfering with your mentoring assignment, Mr. Plinth.”

Finally, Highbottom said to his colleague, “Perhaps Capitol students are ill-suited to be mentoring tributes. Perhaps the games’ time has passed.”

Yes, you thought. It’s time to let it go.

To your surprise, Coriolanus abruptly stood up from his seat. “Dean Highbottom is wrong,” he asserted. “My classmates, too. Maybe Sejanus is onto something here. We should be viewing those tributes as human beings. You saw those kids at the zoo. They just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch, we should let them get closer to the tributes before the games. Make the stakes personal.”

“Who would watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?” Dr. Gaul asked, as if the notion of caring about district folk was ludicrous.

“Everyone,” replied Coriolanus. “Especially if they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning. People need someone to root for and someone to root against! And if we bend a few Capitol laws, we can even have them place bets.” 

You felt sick as you looked up at Coriolanus with a mildly disturbed expression. If he noticed, he didn’t give you any indication.

“I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena,” he continued. “But if you give her a chance—I would bet the Plinth prize that she could win people’s attention.”

Dr. Gaul was effectively intrigued.

“I would like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow,” she said. 

Clemensia, strong-headed as ever, stood up and said that she should be working with Coriolanus, as his class partner.

With an amused snicker, Volumnia bowed her head and made her way back to the door. “It’ll be an interesting test,” she ominously said before turning on her heel and exiting, her dark cloak billowing out behind her.

During lunch, you sat down across from Coriolanus in the cafeteria, noticing that he had three sandwiches stacked on his plate, along with half a dozen cookies on another. It was a rare thing, seeing him with so much food. Usually he opted for just starving himself to save some money, despite your urges to get him to eat.

“Hungry?” you asked with an arched brow, but he shook his head.

“It’s for Lucy Gray,” he replied, staring down at the food. Then, he pulled out a red handkerchief and started wrapping the food up. “I’m going back.”

With a soft sigh, you started digging into your own lunch. “Hopefully not inside this time.”

He spared you half a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Are you coming? Everyone else is. I heard Arachne tell Felix she’s going to use food to get her tribute to do tricks for her.”

With a wrinkle of your nose, you glanced over at her several tables down. “Sounds like something she’d say.” You took a bite of your food and chewed thoughtfully.

“They’re all just copying us, you know,” he said, sounding almost bitter. 

“Of course they are,” you replied, taking a drawn-out sip from your cup. “We showed them there’s no sharks in the water. Obviously they’re going to jump in.”

He tied the handkerchief together so the sandwiches and cookies would stay put. “They’re all sheep. No original thought whatsoever.”

There it was again, your wind-chime laugh. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, now empty save for a few bread crumbs. 

“It’s not that big of a deal, Coryo. Besides, I’m glad most of the class is going. The tributes must be starving in there,” you told him. “I’ll come and bring some food for Wovey.”

A voice from your right jutted into your conversation, Sejanus’ angry face coming into view as he slammed down his lunch tray in the empty spot beside you. “You guys going to fatten up your tributes so you can finally start taking bets?” he just about snarled.

“Do you think they’ll give those kids a scrap if we don’t give them a reason to do it?” Coriolanus responded defensively, leaning forward with narrowed eyes. “How do you think your tribute will have a chance if he can’t eat?”

“We can’t send them back to their homes,” you told Sejanus in a juxtaposingly calm tone. “The best we can do for them now is help them out here.”

The curly-haired man slumped forward, his shoulder stooping like an old wildflower. “He was my classmate,” he muttered. “Back in two.”

Though you gave Sejanus a sympathetic look, Coryo regarded Sejanus as if he was confused. He wondered why Sejanus even bothered to care this much when he was no longer a part of the districts.

“It’s not your fault that—” Coriolanus began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“Oh, yeah, I’m so blameless I’m choking on it!” he gritted out. Then, he let out a shaky breath, trying to steel himself. “My father bought him for me, you know. At the reaping. Just so he could show me that I could never go back to two.”

A frown marred your features. “He bribed Highbottom?”

“Something like that,” Sejanus told you, using the prongs of his fork to poke and prod at his food. “Morphling costs a pretty penny.”

Silence stretched over the three of you for a few seconds. Coriolanus looked annoyed, but Sejanus didn’t seem to notice. 

“Being in the Capitol is going to kill me,” he sighed.

This made Coryo scowl. “So do something about it.”

Sejanus’ dark eyes flitted over to the bundle of food in Coriolanus’ hands. “You’re quite the rebel.”

Coriolanus retorted, “Oh, yeah. I’m bad news.”

When he said that, he’d expected you to laugh again, but you kept quiet, staring down at your now-unappetizing lunch.

There was a considerably larger crowd around the enclosure that evening. You had a small basket clutched in one hand, consisting of juice boxes (still grape, since you now knew it was a safe option), soft bread rolls, and wrapped leftovers from your dinner with Lucky. You hoped Wovey wasn’t allergic to anything—you’d forgotten to ask in the heat of it all.

Coriolanus still only had the few sandwiches he saved from lunch, but you assured him that you were more than happy to share with Lucy Gray if need be. 

She looked much more haggard tonight, most of her makeup smeared off, her lips chapped and bleeding at the center from what you assumed was anxious biting, and her hair was more unruly. Though her eyes still held the same fire, the same passion, lighting up when she noticed the two of you approaching. She asked if the food was for them with slight surprise—you often forget that they hadn’t much to eat in the districts, anyway—and took what was offered, before handing off a good portion of it to her district partner, Jessup. The larger man declined the food at first, claiming he wasn’t hungry, but eventually caved and took the sandwiches. 

When he turned to walk off, Coriolanus asked about the nasty wound on his neck. It was just behind his ear and oozing with blood and pus. A bat bite on the train, Lucy Gray told the two of you, looking awfully guilty on behalf of her friend. 

Crooning from a little way’s away drew your attention to Arachne and her tribute. She was dangling a cold bottle of water just inches from the tribute’s reach, urging her to beg.

Lucy Gray’s brows cinched. “One thing I learned in twelve is that hunger is a weapon. Your friend over there sure knows it.”

The two of you scoffed at the same time.

“She is not my friend,” Coriolanus told her. “She is poison with perfect teeth.”

“How such a vile tongue hides behind those pearly whites, I wouldn’t ever know,” you remarked, earning you a snicker from Coriolanus. Finally, you peered around for Wovey, eager to finally get her something to eat. However, curse your damned softening heart, your eyes grew gentle upon seeing her curled up by the very same tree stump, head resting on Bobbin’s shoulder, fast asleep. 

Lucy Gray casted a glimpse over her shoulder to see what you were looking at. 

“Could you give this to her?” you asked, slotting the small basket between the enclosure’s metal bars. “When she wakes up, that is. She must be famished. Feel free to take anything in there, but just… leave some for her.”

The girl nodded, taking the basket from you and handing it over to Jessup, who cradled it as if it were more precious than gold. You watched him carefully—not because you were worried he was going to keep all the food to himself, but because you were curious as to why he hadn’t reached in to take anything for himself yet, even after several minutes passed by. 

Coriolanus leaned forward, wrapping a hand around one of the bars as he lowered his voice. “Are you going to share everything with Jessup?”

Lucy Gray’s expression faltered. “Why? You think I oughta build up my strength to strangle him in the arena? Not exactly my forte.”

“I might have a chance to help you,” he told her, watching her keenly. “To make some suggestions to the gamemakers. I might even be able to get the audience to send you gifts in the arena. Food, and water, to keep you going. You just have to try singing again.”

Firmly, Lucy Gray said, “I don’t sing when I’m told, I sing when I have something to say.”

“And you have nothing to say?” you asked her, head tilting. “The whole world is watching, Lucy Gray. Now’s your chance.”

A myriad of emotions crossed over her face. “It doesn’t matter much now, does it? I’ve seen the arena—there’s nowhere to hide. What’s the point?” Her gaze traveled from you to Coriolanus. “The guards say you get money if you get more people to watch and you say you want to help me. Which is it?”

“Both?” he offered. 

It didn’t satisfy her, but it was enough, for now. 

Then, she grabbed a sandwich from the red handkerchief and took a large bite, a muffled noise of appreciation falling from her lips. 

“Bread’s soft,” she said around a mouthful. “Softer than in twelve.”

Then, she offered a cookie to Coriolanus. He began to protest, but she insisted he take it.

“I saw you staring,” she said. “I always thought there was plenty of food in the Capitol.”

Coriolanus laughed, a coarse and unrefined sound. “One time during the war, I ate a whole jar of paste just to stop the pain in my stomach.” 

A match of pity struck within the confines of your chest, but you remained quiet. Coriolanus told you stories of his times during the war often—usually after the two of you laid together, sweaty and naked, bearing your souls to one another. Pillow talk made him quite emotional, you found.

“And how was it?” Lucy Gray queried, eyes round.

Coriolanus took a bite of the cookie, humming in though. Then, he shrugged. “Pasty,” he said.

Lucy Gray laughed. She looked back to you, appreciative. “Thank you, for the food. I’m sure the little one’s going to be happy.” Your eyes flickered back to Wovey. She stirred a bit on Bobbin’s shoulder, but remained asleep. “She’s so sweet. So young. Something about her reminds me of my cousin, Maude Ivory. I can’t stand to think of them without me like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Coriolanus whispered.

You nodded in agreement. “They’re waiting for you, I’m sure. You’ll see them again.”

Lucy Gray smiled sadly. “I won’t hold you to that.” Then, after she took another bite, she blew out a gentle sigh. “You two seem like… genuine folk. It sure would’ve been nice to meet you under different circumstances.”

Coriolanus leaned his head against the enclosure’s bars. “One of your shows, maybe.”

Somehow, her smile grew impossibly wider, but her eyes shone with unshed tears. “Yeah. Yeah, I would’ve liked that.” With a light sniffle, she asked the two of you, “You two keen on dancing?”

You thought back to all the dance lessons you were forced to take as a young child. It was never your strong suit. “Not really, no. Coriolanus is much better than I am.” 

“Not your fancy Capitol dancing,” she told you, waving a hand in the air. “Dancing like you’re free. Dancing with no rules. Just the music, to guide you.”

Both you and Coriolanus exchanged glances. “Can’t say I’ve tried,” you replied. “But it sounds fun.”

Lucy Gray nodded, showing more enthusiasm than you’d ever seen in her before. “You’d have the time of your life. If you ever visit… I’d love for you to come. Both of you—we’d have a drink. Share a dance or two. We’d have all the time in the world. People always say our music shows are the best places for romantic dates. It’d be perfect for you two.”

It was a pleasant fantasy to entertain. But that’s all it was—a fantasy. When you looked at Coriolanus, his expression was simultaneously strained and distant, as if he were far away, thinking of other things. You reached out to place your hand on his shoulder.

But before you could, screams erupted from around the enclosure, followed closely by shattering glass. You whipped your head away from Lucy Gray, seeing Arachne’s tribute jabbing the broken glass bottle straight into her jugular. Coriolanus yelled something—you weren’t entirely sure what, but he jumped up to grab Arachne, applying pressure to the wound.

It wasn’t enough. 

Blood, dark and viscous and filling the air with the smell of copper, began to pool around her neck, down her shoulders, filling the crevices of her collarbones. She was blubbering something, gargling through blood, but you couldn’t quite hear with the loud static buzzing in your ears. 

You glanced to the side, catching sight of peacekeepers lining up their guns to shoot. You rushed forward to get to Coriolanus, yanking him down just as several shots rang out. He was whimpering, telling Arachne to hold on for him, but when you frantically reached down to feel for her pale wrist’s pulse—it wasn’t there.

Arachne was dead. 

You clambered off of Coriolanus, away from the dead girl, backing away. You only barely registered Sejanus calling out your name in concern, but you didn’t pay him any mind. Instead, you turned your eyes to the tributes, all ducking and cowering behind trees and tires. To your relief, Wovey was now awake, eyes wide as she crouched behind the tree stump with Bobbin.

The relief was short-lived, however, because peacekeepers began urging everybody away from the enclosure. You reached out for Coriolanus, taking his arm. He was shaking, eyes as large as saucers and visibly distraught. 

The two of you walked to his estate in tense silence.

Once there, Grandma’am and Tigris fawned over the two of you, though in far different ways. Grandma’am dove into a lecture about rebels and how lucky the two of you were that your tributes hadn’t done the very same. Tigris wrapped a warm shawl over you and a patched blanket over her cousin, telling Grandma’am that Lucy Gray and Wovey weren’t rebels, just innocent girls. 

“Trust me, that one hasn’t been a girl in a long time,” Grandma’am bitterly retorted. “Outside this Capitol, they’re savages, however they may smile. She will use you, Coriolanus. You must use her or you’ll end up dead in the trees, like your father.”

Coriolanus stiffened. 

An hour later, he tugged you into his room and kissed you hard and desperate, as if he wanted to distract himself from his own thoughts. You were the one to pull away, even if everything inside you was screaming to stay. You almost caved, almost, when his head dipped forward in an attempt to capture your lips again, but you placed the tips of your fingers over his mouth with a soft, sympathetic smile. You hugged him tight until he stopped trembling, and reluctantly drew yourself away from him. After embracing Tigris goodnight, you walked home alone with your thoughts, wondering if the games were going to continue in lieu of the evening’s events.

There was an assembly held at the academy for Arachne’s death, followed promptly by a proper funeral. Though, it didn’t quite feel proper with all the cameras and reporters hovering around. You wondered if people were expecting to see you cry. You were incredibly shaken, sure, but were you sad?

It’d be a lie if you said yes.

They made sure to zoom in on you and Coriolanus when you kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand just before he was appointed to go on stage and sing the national anthem. Why he was the one to do so, the two of you had no idea. It’s not like Arachne was friends with him, despite what the reporters wanted to think. It was a ridiculous waste of breath, he thought, singing for a girl he barely knew.

After Coriolanus’ performance, President Ravinstill gave a rather monotonous speech about courage and bravery. How Arachne was going to be sorely missed. Right—of course she was.

And the very next day, life moved on. As if Arachne’s death had never happened.

Soon after, they had all the mentors and tributes gathered into one of the academy halls— with the tributes shackled to tables, of course. It wasn’t like there was anywhere for them to run. You’d seen all the peacekeepers lining the hallways outside.

“In spite of yesterday’s tragic events,” Highbottom said, not a shred of sincerity to be found in his tone, “our President has decided that the games must go on. Show everyone that the Capitol is unafraid of such acts of terror. To which end Dr. Gaul wishes you to preview the arena this afternoon with your tributes. Later this evening, there will be a special, televised presentation of each tribute to our audience so they could… get to know them.”

A glorified show-and-tell, you dryly thought. How wonderful.

You and Coriolanus looked at each other for a brief moment—he’d ask Lucy Gray to sing again, you were certain. Then, you turned back forward, where Wovey was fiddling with her thumbs, sniffling a few times.

“You’ll have an hour to discuss strategy,” said the dean, before whisking himself off to the shadows of the room to down another vial of morphling.

You sat down in front of your tribute, trying your best to offer her a warm smile.

“Did you like the food I brought? Was it okay?” you whispered, making sure to lower your voice.

A nod, a scuffle of feet. Her bottom lip trembled.

Gnawing on the inside of your cheek, you moved on to the pressing matter at hand. “Okay, Wovey. I need… I need to know what you’re good at. Are you a fast runner?” 

She thought for a moment, but then shook her head.

“I know you can climb?”

She let out a shaky sigh. “I used to climb in my mama’s factory all the time. Trees, too.”

“Good. That’s good,” you murmured, pulling out a notepad so you could jot some things down. “Are you good at hiding? Staying still?”

“I think so,” she said, looking awfully uncomfortable. “Will I go back home if I win?”

A sharp pang hit you square in the chest. You tore your gaze away from your notes on the paper to look at her. 

“Yes,” you hesitantly replied. “They’ll take you home.”

This seemed to satisfy her for the time being. Gave her hope that you perhaps shouldn’t have instilled.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “So—for your televised presentation. We need to win the audience over so they send in donations—I’d be able to send you things. What do you want to do?”

After quite a bit of back and forth, you managed to get Wovey to agree to talk about her family on stage. How much she missed them. It wasn’t much, but perhaps the youngest tribute sympathy card would push the odds in your favor.

Halfway through the hour, however, Coriolanus and Clemensia were called away by Highbottom—most likely to discuss the proposal Coryo had written up once you left the estate. You made a mental note to ask him how it goes once you saw him again. You felt bad, seeing Lucy Gray sitting all alone, bound hands lightly rapping against the table’s wood.

By the stroke of four in the afternoon, they gathered all the mentors and tributes in front of the arena. Coriolanus came bounding up to the group just seconds away from the gates opening, appearing breathless and mildly frazzled. 

“You okay? Where’s Clemmie?” you asked, resting a hand on his elbow, brows kinking with confusion.

“She’s… not going to make it.” He winced, appearing distinctly torn. “I’ll tell you later.”

There was a brief silence where you scrutinized him, eyes wide. Something bad happened when he was with Dr. Gaul, and you weren’t too keen on finding out.

You walked alongside Coriolanus into the arena, with your two tributes in front of you. Lucy Gray was saying something comforting to Wovey in that sweet voice of hers, and for that you were grateful. The last thing you needed was Wovey to break down in an anxious mess. 

The arena itself was spacious but incredibly rundown, crumbling under the weight of its neglected upkeep. The glass roof was stained and dusty, rusty slants creaking as they parted to filter sunlight into the dome.

“Welcome to the arena of the 10th annual hunger games,” a distorted voice echoed through the arena’s shoddy speaker system. “Tributes, mentors, you have fifteen minutes to survey the space and discuss strategy.”

With one final squeeze on Coriolanus’ shoulder, you parted ways with him, stepping beside Wovey to urge her into a lap around the arena. Staggered rows of dusty seats lined the edges high above the ground—Wovey was a good climber, wasn’t she? 

You tried your best to give her advice. “Hiding in the seats is your best option. Climbing over the rows whenever someone comes to attack you should buy you time. You’re small, too—I think you’d be able to crawl beneath the seats to get away. As for weapons… maybe grab something small from the center. A knife or a dagger. But only if you have time, and only if you know you can make it. If not, just make a break for the seats, as fast as you can. Got that, sweetheart?”

Wovey stayed silent. But she nodded. Nodded and nodded until you worried her head was going to pop right off. 

You bent down at the waist slightly so that you were eye-level with her. “I’ll be watching you the whole time. I’m there if you need m—”

Sudden explosions rang out about the arena. Plumes of dust flew everywhere, blinding you almost instantaneously. With your eyes squeezed shut, you felt the ground shake and split and rumble until another closer explosion flung you a good few feet off the ground. You landed on your side with a strangled scream, though the pain only registered a few seconds later. Cracking your aching eyes open and squinting through the haze of dust, you caught sight of shattered glass thundering around you like crystalized rain, nicking your skin with sharp pin pricks. 

Your right side buzzed with warmth. Something damp. You dazedly looked down.

Oh.

It seemed you’d landed right on a broken metal pipe, sticking right out of your abdomen. Blood was pooling down your academy uniform, soaking the fabric a far more sinister shade of red. You choked out something akin to a dry sob, before screaming out for help. You heard dozens of similar cries echo back to you.

With a grunt, you pushed yourself up, 

“CORYO?!” you screamed as loud as you could. Faintly, you could hear his strained voice echo your name back—somewhere across the arena, you’d wager. 

The pain was starting to grow worse. Searing, almost, as if you were being laid over an open fire. You staggered through the rubble, pressing a hand to your side in a terrible attempt to staunch the bleeding, careful not to jostle the pipe. It was probably the only thing keeping you from bleeding out right then and there.

As you kept moving, you caught sight of a large, gaping hole at the opposite end of the arena. There were tributes running out. Peacekeepers shooting them. The explosions had been so loud that your ears were ringing with terrible white noise—you couldn’t even hear the sound of the rifles blasting.

You glanced around wildly. 

You spotted the small little girl near the edge of the arena. Running with Dill, you realized, mind still lagging a second too late from shock. Another explosion rattled through the arena—this time, crumbling the roof away completely.

With a mangled noise, you began limping as quickly as you could.

Another call of your name, echoing and rattling about your skull, and Coriolanus materialized right beside you out of seemingly nowhere. There were two of him, you realized. He appeared fuzzy. 

You reached out for him, but he suddenly pulled you forward, yelling something. Something you couldn’t hear. A flash of rainbow by his left, and you saw Lucy Gray just barely escape being crushed by a large stone support column. 

More crumbling ceiling. Coriolanus’ hands were cold when he urgently shoved you forward. So hard that you went tumbling down, screaming with the sudden painful jolts the metal pipe sent shooting up your spine. A second later, you blearily looked around for Coriolanus—realizing that he’d pushed you into the clear when you found him pinned down under heavy foundational slants—and they’d caught on fire. 

Numb panic shot through your mind. You barely registered your own voice croaking out his name. You tried to crawl towards him, but he only seemed to get farther away. 

The last thing you saw before your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you went careening backwards was the rainbow dress, and wild, dark hair. 

The hospital bed was far from comfortable, but you’d been so tired you were knocked out for half of the day. Though, Tigris told you that you did sort of wake up at some point in the night, mumbling Coriolanus’ name with half-cracked eyes, before falling right back asleep.

He’d startled awake before you—rushing to your bed (right beside his) and taking your limp hand in his cold, clammy one. Brushed the hair away from your forehead and muttered apologies and please don’t die like they were a mantra.

When you finally stirred, you nearly burst into tears upon seeing Coriolanus.

“I thought you died,” you dry-sobbed. Your side ached considerably with the effort. “I thought I was going to die.”

He drew you into a loose hug, careful to avoid your bandaged midriff. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m here. I love you—I’m not going anywhere, okay? Lucy Gray saved you. Saved us.”

“She did?” you croaked, voice soft. Yes, you sort of remembered. It was all a blur.

“She caught you before you could crack your head open on the ground,” said another voice. You turned your stiff neck to see Sejanus at the foot of the other side of your bed, next to Tigris, who was running her hand up and down your arm in a comforting manner.

You blew out a shaky sigh. Your head pulsed, and you suddenly felt nauseous. “What… what happened?”

They took turns explaining. Rebel bombing. The dead tributes. The president’s son, Felix, in critical condition. Sejanus’ tribute missing. How the games were still commencing regardless. The pipe that had been lodged in your abdomen missing any vital organs. How you were lucky to be alive.

“Wovey?” you whispered. “Is she okay?”

Coriolanus smoothed a hand over your head. “She’s okay. Not one of the ones that died.”

“Lucy Gray?” you whispered. 

“Alive. She could have run. She stayed back to help you and me,” he said as his hand traveled down to gently cup your face. There were dark circles under his eyes. “I owe her now. She saved the love of my life.”

“Oh, Coryo—are you okay? Are you hurt?” Your gaze roamed all over his form, clad in an identical hospital gown. 

“A few burns and bruises. Nothing compared to you.” 

You drew in a staggered breath. Every muscle and tendon in your body screamed with even the slightest movements. 

Tigris squeezed your hand. “We were so worried for you. Coriolanus couldn’t sleep all night. Your mother came by earlier but she had to leave—a spill in the lab, or something. And your father sends his love from district two. Your mother said he was furious. Military is doubling down.”

“Typical,” you whispered, supplying the three with half a weary smile, glad that they were there for you. “I can’t believe they’re going on with the games tomorrow. This is absurd.”

“They don’t want to seem weak,” Sejanus bitterly replied. “But you woke up just in time. The televised presentations are starting soon.”

Nearly an hour later, Sejanus switched on the television set hanging in front of the beds. Tribute after tribute went by, most of them appearing gaunt and exhausted. True to what the two of you had discussed, Wovey got on stage and talked about her family back in district eight, despite looking rather shaken. The audience crooned and sighed with pity. Donations were sparse, but still more than you had expected, to your bittersweet relief. You watched from the hospital bed, curled up with Tigris at the head of it, your head on her shoulder, whilst Sejanus and Coriolanus were standing far closer to the curved screen. 

Lucy Gray was the last to go on. She had a guitar with her. And she sang a beautiful song—one about a boy back from home, she said. The audience cheered and sniffled. Even the nurses stopped their bustling to watch, some of them discreetly wiping away tears.

Once visiting hours were over and Tigris and Sejanus were shooed out of the hospital, Coriolanus sat beside you and slung an arm over your shoulder. He slotted his fingers beneath your chin and kissed you deeply. It was a slow embrace, with not a hint of sexual intentions—he just wanted to hold you. Remind himself that you were still alive, still here, still his.

Your nose nudged his when he laid his forehead over yours. The two of you breathed in each other’s comforting presence. Just the two of you. It reminded you of when times were so… uncomplicated. Before all the mentoring came along, the only things you had to worry about were grades and Coriolanus’ refusals to eat properly.

Then, he told you about Clemensia. How she was probably somewhere in this very building. How she screamed when she was bitten by the snake muttation. Your mind raced with questions, but you yawned instead and leaned against his chest. 

“I love you, too, Coryo,” you whispered into his hospital gown, realizing you hadn’t said it back earlier. 

A few minutes later, you were back asleep. Coriolanus was careful not to wake you when he laid you back down. Tucked the blanket up to your chin. He kissed your hairline once more, regarding you with a fond expression, before straightening, trying his best to ignore the aches blossoming over his back and legs.

And then he left the ward, assuring the doctors that he was fine and he could be discharged. They reluctantly agreed after a brief check-up, and had him sign off for himself. Once he was out, he immediately set off for the arena, trying to search for something, anything to keep his tribute alive.

Tunnels. The ground had collapsed into them, giving Lucy Gray a perfect place to run and hide. He went back home, making sure Grandma’am and Tigris were asleep—before pouring a copious amount of powdered rat poison into his late mother’s compact. 

It was cheating. But you and Sejanus had both said it before—he was a rebel by nature. Bad news.

He visited the zoo enclosure and gave it to her then, informing her of the tunnels. Wiped her tears with a handkerchief, then told her he owed her his life and more. That you were okay, and it was all thanks to her. Lucy Gray looked overwhelmed for a moment. She did what any decent person would, she thought. He promised her that she’d get out. Return home to the Covey. False hope whispered unrealistic dreams into her ears and she let herself listen. 

“We all do things we’re not proud of to survive,” he whispered when Lucy Gray attempted to protest, not wanting to poison anyone. He pushed the compact firmly into her hands. “Do it for your family.”

Conflict warred across her features. She nodded once, then twice. 

Coriolanus' expression set with determination. “We are going to win this, Lucy Gray. We’re going to win this together. I’m going to get you home.”

[pedgito]

𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐲 ➶ 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐨𝐲!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: based off of this post by poppy-metal, my beloved. eddie's a popular camboy, along with your best friend steve. one lucky introduction manages to turn your life upside down, arguably, for the better. a special mention to nyxoz's amazing camboy edit.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), modern au, camboy!eddie, camboy!steve, bestfriend!steve, steddie (friendship but definitely consensual sex talks), innocent-ish!reader, lacks a lot of positive sexual experience and eddie is a wonderful helper, fingering and first time orgasms, mentions of oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (pulling out), slightly dom!eddie, masturbation, voyeurism (consensual), a lot of unnecessary backstory because i couldn't help myself, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 9k — part two

Your relationship with Eddie was nothing short of unorthodox. It was a winding, ridiculous tale of how you met, how your relationship flourished, and how things ended up where they were now—but it should be noted first, you were well aware of Eddie’s profession. You’ve never knocked him for it, it was fascinating more often than it wasn’t, how easily he drew in a crowd and kept them captivated. It was something you’d never be capable of, you knew that. Eddie’s confidence oozed from him, on camera and off, despite his conscious humbleness—he knew what he had and he worked it well. It was his means of living, after all.

Steve shows you a picture of him on a busy Friday night almost three years prior, out at a packed bar, tucked into a tight corner away from all the music and sweaty bodies. 

“He seems—“

“Intimidating?” Steve finishes with a laugh, letting you swipe through the few pictures of him and Steve, arms thrown around each other—they seemed close, and given their similar line of work, you could only assume how close. “He’s not, I promise.”

“I’m not trying to date anyone, Steve.” You remind him adamantly, pushing his phone back toward him. 

Eddie was cute, handsome even—you could admit that at least.

“Oh, no—no,” Steve panics, shoving his phone into his pocket, “that’s not what I was implying.”

“Then what?” You ask with a soft laugh, “Are you trying to tell me I need more friends?”

Steve shrugs halfheartedly, “Not so much you—more him.”

“Fine, I’ll meet him.” You agree with hesitance, “On one condition.”

Steve rolls his eyes in amusement, a subtle smirk pulling at his features. “I’m not giving you free content—you’ve gotta pay up like the rest of the world.”

“Ew, fuck no—“ You reply in disgust, never appreciating the closed door policy in your shared apartment more than right now. “I was going to say you can cook dinner for the rest of the month—I don’t need to see any more of your dick than I already do.”

“Hey, that was one time—“ Steve defends weakly, “and I wasn’t even in that line of work yet."

“That’s worse!” You tell him, “That’s why we have rules, Steve.”

Despite that, Steve’s still one of the better roommates you’ve had and cleans up after himself better than you, most of the time, but what he makes up for in cleanliness, he lacks in spatial awareness—eventually he learns to keep the door closed.

He brings Eddie back to the house the next night, busting through the door with giddy excitement, in the middle of an animated conversation when Steve catches you on the couch, scrolling through an endless list of movies with no idea what to watch.

“See, I told you she’d still be up.” Steve tells Eddie, closing the door behind him as they both hurled toward the couch, squeezing you between them. “Have you eaten?”

You grimace at the overwhelming smell of body wash, the obvious post orgasmic energy radiating from both of them.

“No,” You sigh, resting your hands in your lap and fiddling with your fingers idly, nose scrunching up in irritation, “—god you two smell like you drowned each other in a tub of fucking green apple.”

“I need to buy some,” Eddie says, “it’s all Steve had with him.”

You nod slightly, “So, how was the turnout?”

The both break out into a grin, clear that it was nothing near disappointing. “Someone sent in like five thousand, I think—something around that. Not to mention all the new people it brought in since Eddie’s fanbase grows by a thousand every fucking day.”

“I can’t even wrap my own head around it.” Eddie admits honestly, eyes flitting toward his bare knees that showed through his ripped jeans. “Anyways, it’s nice to official meet you.”

Eddie turns to you then, sacharinne smile on his face.

“Oh, right,” Steve remembers, “yeah—this is Eddie.”

“Should this feel weirder?” Eddie asks, “I feel like I kinda just busted in here—“

“And I wouldn’t expect anything less,” You look over toward him briefly before glancing back at Steve, “not when you’re friends with this idiot.”

“Hey—“ Steve retaliates in defense.

You chuckle softly, forcing yourself up from the squished space between them.

“Wait, where are you going?” Steve asks, leaning up from the couch like he’s going to follow.

You step to your phone, reaching for it from where’s resting on the counter, tossing it into Steve’s hands, his reflexes impeccable as he catches it with ease.

“You two can celebrate your record breaking sex tape by buying me dinner,” You smirk, “I’m feeling—“

“Chinese?” Eddie suggests, both of you glancing over toward a mortified Steve.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect.” 

Eddie’s never been more instantly intrigued by someone in his entire life—he’s seen pictures, heard about you through Steve, but nothing prepared him for actually being in your presence.

He had to learn everything about you.

Steve can’t admit his jealousy, but it’s there—definitely.

It doesn’t take long for you and Eddie to click, and when it happens, it’s impossible to seperate you both. Eddie streams a lot, more than half of the week and similar to a full-time job, and it seems just as exhausting as a regular nine to five—and Steve’s been kind enough to support you through your own hardships, both with the money of his parents and his, it’s made life easy for you and a lot less stressful as you navigate through your final year of college. You had great friends and there was no doubting that, but it blows your mind just how much money Eddie makes in a month—hell, even a weeks time.

You don’t argue when Eddie tries to pay for meals or nights out, knowing he would string things into a full-blown argument if it boiled to that point—not out of frustration and Eddie would never realize his voice out of tone, but he had more money than he knew what to do with, so spending it on and for the people he cared about seemed like a good enough reason. It becomes tradition—Eddie starts taking Sunday’s off, a day designated for the both of you; time to relax and check-in.

It usually ended up with you two sprawled out on his couch or his bed—this time, his bed—talking about whatever came to mind. You were always curious about his job, whether it be the things he did, the people he encountered, and Eddie never had any qualms about answering.

“What about stalkers?” You ask timidly, playing with the cuff of his sweatpants, delicate fingers dragging over the curve of his ankle. “Steve had one once—it got really bad.”

Eddie shakes his head, body curled around his pillow as his fingers rubbed against his blanket. “I guess I’ve dodge that bullet so far.” He admits, feeling appreciate that he’s avoided the creeps that well. “But, you always get the occasional weirdo who pays for a private showing—those are always tricky.”

“Can’t people request those whenever?” You ask, glancing over at his sleeping computer, his expensive camera covered for—well, reasons. Despite living most of his life online, he was still paranoid to some degree—and maybe it would be easier to not have his setup in his bedroom, but he enjoyed his small apartment and it didn’t make sense to uproot himself, not when he felt safe here. Plus, he was closer to you, and that’s all he really cared about. 

“It depends on my availability—they usually schedule it around what I have set up but sometimes I do surprise and I typically charge more for those, but I haven’t done one in a while.”

You sit up slightly, turning over onto your stomach until you’re beside him, head propped up in your hand as you looked at him. “Why?” You ask curiously.

Eddie laughs weakly, “Well, I use to do them on Sundays.” It dawns on you then, mouth forming into a soft “Oh.” 

“Yeah, so I don’t do them anymore,” He shrugs, “I mean, they were good money—like, really good. But, the more people are willing to pay, the weirder things get.”

“How weird?”

Eddie looks away briefly, racking his brain for all the odd encounters he’s had, “Uh, there’s a lot of feet.”

“People showing you their feet?” You ask incredulously.

“No, no—“ Eddie interrupts with a chuckle, pressing his hand against your cheek gently, thumb soothing out the furrow in your brow, “mine and the other person usually gets off to it—“

“Like, men?”

Eddie shrugs, “Usually—my audience is predominantly male but there’s a good mix of everything, it makes no difference to me as long as they’re not being excessively creepy.”

“This is fascinating.” You mumble to yourself, noticing Eddie’s smug grin. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you—do you wanna watch one?” Eddie asks boldly, there’s a tinge of hesitancy in his voice that maybe you’ll decline—not that he would be offended, but he knew how curious you were about all of it, even from the little of it that Steve has exposed to you.

You don’t immediately say no, “Won’t that be weird?” You ask, “I think part of me has avoided all of it because I respect that part of you—“

“I don’t need respect, sweetheart. It’s my job.” He says with a smile, tapping his ringed pointer finger against the tip of your nose. “So, whaddya say? Free of charge.”

“Sure, I’ll bite.” You giggle softly, letting him climb over you clumsily to settle himself at his desk.

“Go sit over there,” He motions toward the book of his bedroom, a cozy corner with a fuzzy chair that looked way too expensive. You took a seat, pulling the decorative pillow over your lap as you crossed your legs, watching as Eddie typed away furiously at his phone before placing it against the top of his desk, pressing at his keyboard until his computer came to life, “—I’m trusting you to be quiet, okay?”

You make a motion of zipping your lips, earning a subtle head shake from Eddie, his hand reaches up in a grabbing motion.

“Pass me that lube.”

Your eyes switch to the table quickly, noticing the small bottle of clear lube, sitting there, out in the open. It was his bedroom, you couldn’t judge. You pick up the bottle carefully, pinched between your thumb and pointer finger, tossing it in Eddie’s direction.

“It’s a new bottle,” He tells you, catching the bottle in one hand, “and I keep my stuff clean.”

“I believe you.” You respond, hands held up in defeat as you settled back into the chair.

It doesn’t take long for him to find a willing customer who had nothing better to do at ten o’clock on a Sunday night—he snaps into the persona easily, a more rambunctious, showy version of himself. You laugh quietly, catching the way his hands rub over the front of his sweatpants absently—you can only assume it’s to assist himself in getting hard. You’re not a prude either, by any means, so it’s not shocking or outrageous to watch, but it feels slightly invasive.

And it wasn’t that you didn’t find Eddie attractive—you did, tremendously, but things have never tipped past the point of typical friendship; he hugs you longer than necessary and sometimes kisses you on the cheek or forehead, but outside of that, it’s normal. Eddie also loves to cuddle, but that’s not even necessarily reserved for you, because you’ve caught him doing it with Steve too—but their dynamic was so vast and complicated that you didn’t want to try and dissect it.

Eddie starts off slow, a kind greeting and genuine smile, attempting to connect with the person on the other end. Eddie’s never judged people and the way they attempt to make connections, whether transactional or not—it was his job and he enjoyed, even the more awkward and strange ones.

You watch on with a faint smile, thumb tucked between your teeth as you chewed gently at the skin—to Eddie, it was like you weren’t even there, but deep in his mind he felt it; pensive eyes and anxiety of his next move, maybe he had taken things too far. But, there was no turning back now. 

It ramps up rather quickly, his hand slipping from palming over his sweatpants to his thumbs tucking into the fabric to pull them just under his ass, his half-hard cock in view now, slightly obscured by the arm of his chair. 

It’s astonishing, the fact that you haven’t seen Eddie’s dick until now, in such a nonchalant manner. To him, it was a normal day—knowing that thousands upon thousands of strangers already knew what his dick looked like, his ass, practically every part of his body—yet you’ve only been privy to what he’s shown you. His face, his chest, and maybe a glimpse of him in his underwear at most—littered in tattoos from head to toe, constrasting against his pale, milky skin. 

You can’t hear the person on the other end as much, let alone see them at this angle, looking at an oddish angle from the corner—you can’t see Eddie’s face fully, but it’s flush, cheeks reddened from exhurtion. He snaps open the bottle of lube from below the desk, expertly squirting into his hand before tossing it to the floor carelessly, hands switching positions with ease. His left comes under to cup his balls, right hand covered in lube as it wraps around his cock, pulling gently at the shaft, thumb rubbing over the slit at the tip tenderly, moaning some outlandish remark to the person on the other end—their name or maybe their username, you muffle the small laugh that escapes with your hand.

Eddie can hear it too and it breaks his concentration slightly, open mouth pulling into a faint smirk, releasing an obnoxious moan into the air, mostly for the sake of teasing you. It’s effective enough, shutting you up for the remaining duration of the show until Eddie’s coming into his hand harshly, eyes squeezed together in concentration as he squeezes the head of his dick in an effort to stop that painful throbbing—it never felt as good when it was forced like this. It was all for the customer’s sake. But, you still couldn’t help the way your thighs squeeze together at the sight of Eddie’s hand covered in his own come or the way his dick looks absurdly good in the low light, shining and sticky with lube. 

Eddie shuts off his camera soon after, letting out a long shaky sigh as he uses the towel at his desk to wipe himself down.

“So, thoughts?” Eddie asks curiously, peering up from his chair, head still downturned as he wipes at his stomach.

“Pretty tame.” You shrug, though you’ve never really expected to mark consensual voyeurism off your list of things to try at least once in your life, let alone with Eddie. 

“They’re not always crazy,” Eddie says, pulling the band of his sweatpants back over his groin, allowing himself some decency as he turned to you, swiveling in his chair playfully, “—was that…too much?”

“Oh—me, watching you?” You stammer, shaking your head furiously. “I didn’t—I mean, it’s like work for you. But, it was…interesting.”

“You’ve never watched someone masturbate before, have you?” Eddie asks with a hint of teasing.

The boldness of the questions were shocking—Eddie was egging it on and you couldn’t be bothered to stop it. 

“I—no.” You decide on, feeling inclined to offer up an embarrassing secret, considering the situation, “I don’t do it, either—I’ve never tried it.”

“You’re fucking with me.” Eddie huffs a laugh, leaning forward in his chair, hands clasped together as they press under his chin. “You’ve never even—like, not even with a partner?”

“Oh, yeah—I just, don’t do it, you know?” It feels like a redundant question, so Eddie doesn’t answer. “Sex is…kind of an afterthought to me, it’s never really been that great. I only ask a lot of questions because I’m nosey—“

Eddie snorts at that, nodding in agreement. 

“So you’re telling me you’ve never even snuck off with one of Steve’s mountain of sex toys? Just out of curiosity?”

Another shake of your head. 

Eddie clears his throat, the gears in his brain working tirelessly. He feels the need nagging at him, unspoken—it was deservice to you, having never felt what a good orgasm could be like and Eddie was a pleaser, after all.

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping by asking—“ You brace yourself, squeezing at the pillow tucked between your legs, “—do you want to?”

“Masturbate?” You ask with a faint laugh.

“Yeah, but—like, I could help?” 

Eddie isn’t even sure what he’s asking, but it clicks in your brain immediately.

“You don’t find that weird?”

“I literally jerk off in front of strangers for money and fuck my friends for the exact same reason.” Eddie explains, shrugging his shoulders. “Plus, everyone deserves to feel good—look, the offer is there if you want to—“

“Okay,” You answer quickly, quick enough that Eddie’s eyes widen slightly in shock, “but, maybe we can smoke a little first?”

“You don’t have to be nervous about it—“

“No, I know—I just thought it could be more fun that way.”

It was definitely the nerves, but Eddie agrees regardless.

“This is ridiculous.” You giggle, shifting between Eddie’s spread legs, bare from the waist down. “Isn’t it?”

“Not at all,” Eddie says comfortingly, rubbing at the underside of your thighs as he settles behind you, your back resting against his bare chest, “we can try a vibrator if you want—or if you feel more comfortable just using your hand—“

“Hand is fine,” You reply airily, letting his palm cover your hand without question, “if it doesn’t work we can try something else.”

“Oh, it’ll work.” Eddie replies confidently, forcing down the chuckle that rises in his chest. His mouth falls open in concentration as he pulls at your hair gently, pushing it to one side as he peers over your shoulder, “here, rest your head.”

You lean back slightly, glancing up to him briefly. His smile is warm, brimming with excitement and temptation at the idea of doing something so contrasting from your normal behavior. 

“Which feels more comfortable?” Eddie asks, switching between your two fingers—pointer and middle then middle and ring.

“Uh, the second one?” You reply hesitantly, switching between the two briefly, “Wait—yeah, definitely the second one.”

Eddie laughs again, the tingle of his high settling in.

“Okay, we’ll normally I would suggest lube but spit works just as good,” Eddie says, nodding toward your mouth slightly, “—just lick your fingers—yeah, like that.” Eddie watches with intensity as you bring your fingers to your mouth, sucking in the two fingers briefly until Eddie pulls them away, pressing them against your core. “A lot of people can’t come from just penetration so that’s why it’s important to pay attention to everything else—I don’t know how you usually do it—“

“Uh—I’ve never really,” You linger around the words, feeling silly for not allowing yourself to say it, you giggle softly, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper orgasm before—I know the feeling but it’s never hit me, if that makes sense?”

“You’re telling me this now?” Eddie asks with a pitched tone, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs. “God, okay—I’ll just lead you through what I usually do and let you take over when you’re comfortable.”

You nod slowly, feeling the faint press of his fingers against yours, dragging up your cunt slowly, grazing against your clit.

“I can’t believe you’ve never even came before—“ Eddie mumbles, not necessarily to you, more of an unfiltered thought, “who the hell have you been fucking?”

You sigh softly, his fingers leading yours in slow, loose circles of the tight bundle of nerves, “Doesn’t matter.” You reply carelessly, “You said you’d help, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie answers quickly, his other hand settling on the inside of your thigh, keeping them spread open, calloused fingers resting against your soft skin. He circles your clit once more, picking up the pace slightly, you jump at the motion, eyebrows knitting together. “There we go,” He coos, noticing your change in expression, “see how good that feels?”

You nod lazily, free hand circling your entrance, fingertip grazing against the opening—it’s not a new feeling, it’s just never been your own hand doing the work. The first finger dips in with hesitancy, Eddie’s pace slowing slightly at the sight, not wanting to overstimulate you too much. 

It feels lackluster and the angle sucks, your fingers not filling you out as well as you thought they would, you curl them desperately, sneaking in another finger in hopes that it might help, but it’s nothing but frustration on your end.

“Hey, hey—“ Eddie interrupts, noticing the stress of your lip pulled between your teeth, “let me do it, you focus on the other half, yeah?”

You nod in agreement, his guiding hand leaving you suddenly. He slips his rings off his fingers wordlessly, dropping them in his bedside table, the clang defeaning in the silence of his room. 

“I’ll keep it slow,” Eddie tells you, “just communicate what you need.”

With another nod, his first finger breaches you slowly, the stretch different from your own fingers—wider, larger, more filling than your own. “Oh,” It slips out involuntarily, hand shooting over your mouth at the sound, “—sorry, I’m not trying to make it weird—that just feels so—“

“Good?” Eddie asks with a laugh, tongue peeking out between his teeth as he grins, “It’s fine—make all the noises you want, I wasn’t really holding back earlier either.”

“Okay.” You reply quietly, your fingers dragging over your clit testingly, fingers slick with saliva, creating an intense, breathtaking sensation as you fall into an easy pace, Eddie’s fingers matching that rhythm.

The sound of your own wetness as Eddie’s fingers move within you is enough to make your body go hot with need and embarrassment, feeling his finger curls against the soft, sponge nub inside of you.

“You hear that?” Eddie teases, “That’s all you.” His finger crooks again, pulling a broken whine from your throat, body curling forward slightly at the sensation. “There she is.”

You laugh softly at his choice of words, feeling less intimidated that Eddie could make light of such a situation, having just as much fun as you were. 

“Another one,” You tell him steadily, stopping momentarily to watch him push another finger inside, free hand resting against the curve of his wrist, feeling every movement as he worked his fingers inside of you, “fuck—that’s really nice.”

He smiles into the side of your head, face buried in your hair.

Your fingers pick up quickly, rubbing harsh and intense alongside his relentless fingers, pistoning inside of you with  an objective, determined—Eddie couldn’t live with himself if he let you leave empty handed.

“Shit—okay, I feel it.” You tell him honestly and he feels it as you clench around his fingers, your breath picking up quickly, soft moans becoming more and more desperate and Eddie could feel himself being drunk on the sound. Eddie hears the sharp whine from the of your impending orgasm, his fingers pulling away quickly to spread your thighs open wider, having flagged slightly from your desperate movements, hips searching for relief. 

“Keep going,” He encourages, gentle squeezes into the underside of your knee as he holds you open, “I know you can.”

And you’re not sure why his words help, but they do.

You gasp sharply, fingers swiping over your clit in desperate circles as you come, an intense sensation the rushes throughout your entire body, moaning wantonly through the euphoria. Eddie’s hand slips under your chin, pulling your face up to look at him—you can barely keep your eyes open, but he’s staring at you intensely, nodding and speaking unintelligible words that you’re thankful you can’t hear, knowing it would wreck you even further. It feels like you’re underwater, fingers finally slowing as Eddie releases you, hips aching at the relief of it.

“Holy fuck,” You curse, falling back against Eddie in exhaustion, throwing you both into a fit of unexpected giggles, “that’s—oh my god—“

“Sweetheart, that’s nothing.” Eddie assures you, devilish grin overcoming his features. 

“You have to show me more.” You practically beg, face lightening up in joy, “Seriously.”

Eddie’s never agreed to something faster.

From that point on, it’s a dangerous game that you and Eddie fall into without any fear of how easily they could damage your friendship—but that’s where the trust in each other lies, you’ve never been more open and comfortable with someone than Eddie, aside from Steve—but those were completely different situations.

And what starts as innocent lessons in sex and teaching you what and how things should feel, according to Eddie’s expansive experience, quickly turns into mindless and self indulgent pleasure—and no one’s ever gone down on you until Eddie. Ever.

It quickly turns into one of his favorite things—and after his bad days and streams that put him into a bad mood, he’ll bury himself between your legs and devour you until you’re panting his name, gripping his sheets so hard they might rip. 

Eddie initially thinks you’ll be disgusted by the idea of him being with other people from time to time, but it never really crosses your mind as odd—you normally sit in on his sessions now, when you’re not busy doing your own thing, but you usually opt out of watching his streams with others—even when explicitly invited, not that any of his friends cared.

Steve jokes about it once and you can’t believe it.

“It was only a matter of time,” Steve tells you both, having sensed the change in energy weeks ago, but only bringing the knowledge to your attention now. You and Eddie were still very much friends, just with the extra benefits, “—hey, the audience is always talking about how we should add a third—“

“Absolutely not.” You reply quickly, drowning out Eddie’s similar protests. “I’d rather watch you two fuck each other, and that’s already enough to melt my brain.”

“Hey, you gotta give Steve some credit,” Eddie defends playfully, “he’s a great bottom.”

You snort loudly, watching the betrayal cross Steve’s face.

“And you’re a selfish top.” Steve snarls back, kicking his feet up on the table.

You suddenly remember Eddie’s similar answer to the idea of a threesome, curious of why he agreed so quickly.

“Wait—why did you say no?” You ask.

“I didn’t think you’d want to be on camera.” Eddie replies—it’s a logical answer, but not nearly in the realm of being correct. You could care less, it was just a lack of opportunity and genuine want to do it—if served the right circumstance, you might—but a threesome with those two, it sounded like your worst nightmare. “Plus, you treat Steve’s dick like it’s a disease so I used context clues.”

That and he really didn’t feel like sharing. 

“Steve never told you, did he?” You ask with a weak laughs, glancing over toward Steve. “He doesn’t know?”

Steve shrugs, earning a pillow to the face from you.

“What?” Eddie presses.

“I was Steve’s gay awakening.” You admit, “It was literally that bad.”

It did stunt your sex drive for a while, but you didn’t blame Steve—you had enough problems to work through, but Eddie had been a big help to change that. 

“Hey, I love you, though.” Steve tells you earnestly, meaning every word. “I’m glad it was you rather than some horrible interaction with someone I barely knew.”

“And look at me now,” You arms thrown up dramatically, “I’m literally surrounded by sex, everyday—it’s really is my destiny, I think.”

It’s a horrible joke, but it was your current reality. You yank Eddie into the privacy of your room soon after, falling onto his lap with ease, feeling the hard outline of his cock through his thin pajamas pants, earning a subtle eyebrow raise from you.

“Sorry,” He apologizes, “I didn’t stream today and we’ve been around each other, I can’t help it.”

You smile at his raw honesty, grinding down against him pointedly.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” He teases, gripping tightly at your hips.

You two still hadn’t crossed the threshold of sex just yet—you hadn’t even had his dick in your mouth, but you’ve seen it plenty of times thus far, just never in the context of when he was doing things with you, the pleasure being so focused on you that he never even took the time to care for himself, besides, he was getting enough fulfillment in the acts he did for money—at least that’s what you always assumed. So, when he finally asks you that question, you’re not sure how to respond.

“You,” You shove a gentle finger at his chest, before turning to point to yourself, “want me, to have sex with you—on your stream?”

Eddie nods with assurance, the fingers gripping your thigh digging in slightly, grinding you against him teasingly.

“Why?”

It wasn’t a simple question, or even a simple answer, but Eddie tried to explain his reasoning as best he could. 

“People get tired of the same thing,” Eddie says, “not that I’m trying to use your for content, it’s like when I do stuff with Steve, a lot it’s just for fun with a little technicality mixed in—we obviously plan some stuff out but for the most part it’s just improv.”

“Yeah—but we don’t do that stuff,” You say pointedly, “are you trying to suggest that the first time you want to fuck me is on camera?”

“Only if you’re comfortable with it,” Eddie tells you, you stop his movements with a hand on his chest, eyeing him down, “we could play it up, obviously.”

You make a face, feeling slightly confused. 

Eddie laughs, taking a moment to find the best way to express what he’s trying to say. “Like, we do scenarios sometimes—so since it’s your first time, maybe—“

“You want people to think I’m a virgin.” You deduce.

“Yeah—I mean, they won’t know, but people love that shit.”

“And what am I getting out of this?” You ask timidly, other than the idea of mind-blowing sex with your bestfriend—you had no doubt Eddie was capable of whatever he needed to do to make it all worth watching and taking part in.

“Half profit of whatever we make,” Eddie says, “and, I’ll take you that really nice place over on the west end that you’ve been talking about.”

“But, the place costs a fortune.” You protest but Eddie shakes his head vehemently. “Are you sure?”

“I actually expected you to say no,” Eddie laughs, “was that all it took?”

You shrug indifferently, “I’m easy to please—besides, I’m curious.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it.” Eddie smirks salaciously, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you down over him, burying his face into the front of your chest, forcing a squeaky laugh from your chest. 

“You can stop fidgeting.” Eddie laughs, throwing a few random items on his bed; some lube, a condom, and a small piece of fabric that you can only assume is a mask. You grab it, holding it up without question. “Oh—for anonymity, if you want.”

“I don’t care,” You reply, tossing the material to the side, your fingers sift over the other items, grabbing the foil package, “—we talked about this, Eddie.”

“I have multiple partners in a month,” Eddie says, “I don’t want you feeling like your health might be compromised—“

“You get tested every two weeks, don’t you?” You ask, trying to reaffirm what he’d told you days earlier. “And I’m on birth control—Eddie, I thought we figured this out.”

Eddie leans his hands against the mattress, shoulders flexing with the movement as his necklace jostles against his chest.

He sighs deeply, “I know—but when the camera goes on I can’t really switch out of it until after, and even that takes a minute, I just want you to feel comfortable.”

Your finger loops into the chain of his necklace, pulling close enough that your noses touch, his hands scrambling to hold himself up. 

“I can handle it.” You tell him steadily, eyes locked on his own.

He nods, swallowing audibly. “Uh—well, consider this me apologizing in advance for anything I say.”

You laugh softly, “I think I can handle it.”

And it was a total lie, but he didn’t need to know that.

When the camera turns out, Eddie switches into it easily, your gaze downtrodden and avoiding the lens, terrified to make eye contact with any of the messages in his chat. Eddie’s already naked for the most part, sans his loose sweatpants that weren’t leaving much to imagination, his cock swaying freely beneath the fabric. He leans into the camera, the viewers flooding in by the masses. 

“I know, I know,” Eddie soothes the viewers, “you’re probably wondering what’s going on—I’ll explain, but my friend here, she’s a little shy.”

He reaches behind himself, rubbing a comforting hand along your thigh, eyes connecting for a brief moment.

“She’s never been on camera before,” He smiles, glancing back at the screen, “but she’s also never been fucked before.”

There’s a flurry of messages that even Eddie can’t keep up with, “Crazy, right? And she’s bestowed that honor upon me to rectify that situation—and you all get to be a part of it.”

He’s eating it up, you can tell, taking a moment to turn away from the camera to laugh quietly, trying your best to keep it together. 

“So, be nice,” He warns, “and make sure to leave some very kind words and tips on her behalf.”

There’s a moment where he cuts his camera off, transitioning it to a brief pause screen, giving him the chance to move around the room freely, coming to kneel on the bed in front of you. His fingers tip under your chin, eyes softening at the sight of him. 

“You ready?” He asks softly.

“Mhmm.” You hum, offering him a shy smile.

Kissing Eddie isn’t as weird as you anticipate it to be—it’s lips against lips, wet and sloppy, but it’s still better than anything you’ve experienced so far. Eddie kisses with enthusiasm and wandering hands—the screen switches over out of the corner of your eyes before you realize that Eddie’s holding a small remote in his hand, likely to control the different cameras he had set up, before placing it on the blanket beside you both, hidden from view.

Eddie pulls back slightly, letting you chase his lips eagerly. He leans back further, just out of reach, before dragging the tip of his tongue along your bottom lip, letting out a deep chuckle. 

“Look at her,” He speaks to the audience, “so fuckin’ needy.”

And you get it now—he was enticing to watch, off camera and on, but being a willing participant to it, it was the type of thrill you never imagined being able to feel. 

“Want that pretty mouth around my cock,” He admits, thumb rubbing at your bottom lip, “what do you think, sweetheart?”

“Please,” You speak softly, feigning a sort of innocence that Eddie knew was mostly for show, but it still sent a twinge of pleasure straight to his dick, “can I?”

Your hand reaches up tentatively, rubbing his hardened cock over his pants, not entirely new to you, but knowing that things would escalate from here had a surge of confidence running through your body. 

His hands squeeze at your jaw, forcing your mouth open slightly. “I’m not sure if you can fit all of it, but we’ll try.” He comments, earning a subtle eye roll from you. He reaches his hands under his sweatpants, shifting them down far enough that he can pull his dick out, the waistband settled snug under the curve of his ass, his hand palming at himself sparingly. “Open.” He instructs, guiding you up by your jaw onto your knees until your ass is resting on your calves, legs spread wide for show, your hands settling on his upper thighs from where he’s towering over you on his own knees.

Dick’s aren’t supposed to be pretty—they weren’t usually and you’ve seen your fair share, but there was something about Eddie’s. It could’ve been the contrasting black ink of the tattoo etched into the skin right about his groin, highlighting his assets in an unconventional way, or just the confidence that oozed from him in sexual situations. Either way, your eyes were drawn to his cock, his thumb rubbing over the slit at the tip of his dick, milky drop of precome smearing over his fingers, shining in the overexposure of his lights.

“Wider,” He instructs, your tongue lolling out slightly, “good girl.”

Your eyes flutter shut at the word and Eddie realizes he might’ve hit the motherload, shoving that away for later. 

He taps the tip against your tongue, ruddy and wet, pulling at the length of his shaft slowly. “Lick it, sweetheart.” He smiles, “Get it real wet.”

Your tongue drags along the underside testingly, circling his tip with hesitancy. You’ve given enough blowjobs to know the basics, but it’s never felt so magnified, knowing so many people were watching. And Eddie’s not sure what to expect either, but he’s more than hopeful. 

Your mouth waters at the prospect, gathering enough saliva to spit out over his dick before your hand comes up to replace his own, spreading it all the way down. Eddie curses, arms outstretched lazily as he watches, keeping himself together well despite how insanely turned on he was. For a brief moment he thinks that this is a terrible idea, not sure how well he could keep himself together.

“Fuck, let’s see how deep we can go, okay?” He suggest, his dick breaching your parted lips, pushing into your mouth slowly, you breathe deeply through your nose, letting him push as deep as he wants—he’s budging against the back of your throat and there’s nothing, which surprises you—you feel like you should gag, but the actual feeling never happens. It’s a surprise to you both, your eyes widening in disbelief. 

“Holy shit.” It’s an honest statement, you can hear it in his tone. “That’s right, sweetheart—love seeing you take my cock so well.” And maybe that is too, but you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it. Eddie pulls out slowly before plunging back in with a similar intensity, using your mouth for his own selfish need and feeding of your reactions, soft gasps for air, eyes tearing up as he picks up the pace, pulling back suddenly with your head grasped in his hands, one hand tucked snug under your chin while the other holds your hair back, gripped tightly in his fingers. 

His breath is just as baited, staring down at your red, irritated lips—having been stretched uncomfortably and shiny with spit.

He pulls at you roughly, maneuvering you onto your knees until he could reach your face, pressing his lips to yours hungrily and using it as an opportunity to whisper to you quietly. 

“You didn’t tell me you don’t have a gag reflex.” He says in a hushed tone, sounding slightly upset.

“I didn’t—I didn’t know, I swear.” You say defensively, his mouth sliding against yours in an effort to mask the conversation. “Eddie, I’m not lying.”

“No more surprises, please.” He begs with a soft laugh.

You nod slowly in understanding, letting Eddie avert the situation by asking a redundant question.

“Yeah? You want to give them a little show?” He asks with a sneaky smile, glancing over to the camera.

The tips had started flowing in instantly and Eddie hadn’t bothered to even look at any of it, too focused on the task at hand. 

Eddie shifts on the bed until he’s positioned behind you, hands resting low on your waist—you’d put on some gaudy, expensive lingerie that Eddie had bought you for this particular occasion. It was white, intricate lace with sheer material doing nothing to cover you up—it was perfect for the situation but so far from your own taste, but for Eddie you swallowed that pride. It made up for it with the grin that covered his face when you walked out of his bathroom earlier that night.

Your face sucks away from the camera, eyeing Eddie’s hand as it flattens out over your stomach, dragging along the skin delicately. “Do you need help?” He asks sweetly, peering over your shoulder and up to the camera. You nod slightly, letting his hands roam the full expanse of your body, over your breasts, down your stomach again and cupping your cunt in the fullness of his hand, his fingers grazing against the obvious wetness that had pooled there—he wasn’t sure how well this was working at first, but that small bit of evidence affirms it for him. He grips slightly, fingers digging into the fabric near your entrance. 

“Fuck,” He curses, the feeling causing you to gasp involuntarily, mouth dropping open in response, “are you gonna let me play with this pretty little pussy for everyone watching?” 

You nod dumbly, rocking into his grip subtly. 

“I’m not even sure you can’t take my fingers, sweetheart.” He lies, pushing the fabric with his fingers over your hole, your ass nudges against his still uncovered cock and he bites back a quiet groan, and you can assume that definitely isn’t for the camera. “Let’s take this off,” He suggests, fingers dragging along the curve of your breast, “show off those beautiful tits to everyone.”

Eddie pops the clasp easily, dragging the straps over your shoulders slowly until there’s nothing left for the material to snag into, falling from your chest and to the floor, round tits and soft buds that are squeezed between Eddie’s grip showing my, kneading the flesh until you’re keening into his touch, head falling back against his shoulder as his fingers pull at your nipple, rolling it gently between his fingers.

He can see the chat going wild, more and more generous donations flowing in by the second, he leans over to whisper into your ear, hands still working diligently.

“See?” Eddie points out, “They can’t get enough of it.”

You nod subtly, letting his hands drop for your breasts to slip into the front of your lace panties, fingers stretching against the fabric. 

“You’re not so innocent, are you?” He asks teasingly. “Do you want to play with yourself while everyone watches?”

Again, you nod, letting Eddie manhandle you down gently toward the bed, a similar position to the first time he guided you to an orgasm. 

“She’s pretty naughty, isn’t she?” He asks and it takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to his viewers rather than you. He pushes the thin fabric down your legs, dropping it to the floor lazily. “And naughty girls like the attention, don’t they?”

He glares down at you, his hands spreading over the inside of your thighs to hold you open, cunt on bare display for thousands to see. 

“Show them how you touch yourself,” He instructed, “—how badly that pussy of yours is begging to be filled.”

Your fingers tease lightly, drifting over your clit with a severe lack of attention, two fingers dipping inside of you with ease. 

You were rushing it on purpose, hoping Eddie would take over and make it all a little less embarrassing. He does, taking the opportunity to make a sly comment.

“Someone’s a little eager.” He laughs, chest rumbling at the motion. 

“It’s not enough,” You pout dramatically, peering up at him with soft, half-lidded eyes. Eddie didn’t expect you to play your part so easily and so well, breaking his persona for half a second as he stared back at you, nodding deftly. “Can I have your fingers, please?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” He smiles softly, swatting your hand away gently to replace it, his larger hands able to cover more area, joining in with the other as he wastes little time, a large finger pressing inside as he circles your clit. 

It’s the first genuine, unrestrained reaction you give all night—hands grasping at his forearms desperately, gasping sharply at the overwhelming pace he sets.

“We have to be sure I can fit, baby.” He coos and you feel your heart skip at the word, having never heard it fall from his lips until just now—it was addicting. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Eddie waits until you’re a moaning mess, hair mused over your face and cheeks hot from the action of bringing you to the brink so many times, cutting you just short of a glorious orgasm—he was holding it off for the finale, his dick straining just as hard from where it was tucked snug between you. 

When the time finally does come, Eddie’s positioned you over his lap from where he’s resting on his heels, the stretch of his larger thighs enough to seat you comfortably. He’s got a loose hand around his cock, rubbing it against your core teasingly, sparing a few looks in your direction as his eyebrows pull together in concentration. 

“First cock inside you and you’re letting me go in raw,” Eddie comments idly, more for the viewers sake than your own, “I’m honored, sweetheart.”

“Want it so bad, Eddie.” You plead, “I want you to be my first.”

Eddie very nearly breaks at that, turning his face to cover his full-faced laugh, and you’re feeling a little slighted at how easy it was for him to break with how hard you were trying to play up the idea that he initially came to you with—there were a million other creative directions he could’ve taken it but that was what he chose. You pinch him in the side briefly, controlling his facial expressions and focus back to something more appropriate.

You cant your hips up, the wetness of your cunt gliding over his dick until it clips your entrance, sinking down over him slowly with no warning. You gasp involuntarily—the stretch is real, nothing painful or out of the norm, but it’s been a while and you can’t deny the sting at being filled, satiating that urge you didn’t know you had. Eddie groans out brokenly, looking as wrecked as possible in the moment as he watches his dick disappear into you slowly, using the hold and momentum he had on you to force you to wait, moving his hips in small thrusts until you adjusted to his girth and size. 

For a brief moment, you forget what all of this is actually for.

Eddie lifts you slightly, watching your face contorted in pleasure, the warmth of your inner walls like a vice around him.

“Oh fuck,” He comments through a huffed breath, “squeezing my cock like a good girl, aren’t you?”

“It’s so big,” You reply breathlessly, “you’re so—“

Eddie shushes you, the hand that’s not wrapped firmly around your waist rising to brush your hair away from your face, giving the watchers a clear view of your expression, eyes locked on the place where you two were joined together so intimately.

You expected it all to feel weird—and maybe the acting was a bit much, considering Eddie wasn’t nearly as raunchy outside of this, but you’ve never felt more comfortable with someone, and if you were to do something so risky with anyone in front of a mountain of people, you were glad it was him.

And you feel that ache deep in the pit of your stomach, the primal need for release, aiding Eddie in his movements to fuck yourself back against his dick, leaving him no choice but to let you take over—his legs give out and he’s scrambling until he’s seated on his ass, giving over full control to you as you rode him with fervor, hips bouncing eagerly on his cock until he’s nothing but an incoherent mess of praises. He’s never folded underneath someone so quick, distracted by his own building orgasm, the pressure building at the base of his dick.

“Fuck—I’m gonna come.” You warn, pressing your palms against his chest desperately, your movements less concise.

“You know the rule,” Eddie breathes out, voice shot, “ask nicely, sweetheart.”

You nod desperately, head thrown back in ecstasy as your mouth falls open on a soundless gasp. “Can I come? Please—need to come, fuck, I can’t—“

“Can I touch you?” Eddie whispers intimately, earning a subtle nod in return, forgetting everything but the desperation you felt. Eddie’s fingers only manage a few short, quick circles before you’re clenching down on him, coming with a strained moan as you ride out through the intensity of it—Eddie’s holding off, hand gripped tightly at the base.

“Fuck, good girl,” He says softly, “—can feel you dripping down my cock.”

You nod lazily, feeling Eddie tap at your thigh in an effort for you to move. You switch positions quickly, his face scrunched up in concentration as he kneeled over you, tapping at your face until your mouth fell open. It wasn’t something you initially discussed beforehand, figuring that he would probably just finish inside of you, knowing that’s what people really wanted.

But he couldn’t help himself, because it was what he wanted at that moment, his eyes pleading as you nodded in agreement. He rested the tip of his dick against your tongue as he tugged furiously, using his other hand to hold your mouth in waiting as he groaned loudly, coming over your tongue in long, forceful spurts, his eyes falling shut from the force that it hits him, jaw slack. He rubs tenderly at the joint of your own jaw, tugging at his dick until the feeling finally fades, the ache in his stomach slowly dissipating. You make a show of closing your mouth, swallowing the mouthful of come that sat on your tongue, finger dragging at the corner of your mouth where a small amount had started to dribble out, sucking unnecessarily on the finger until Eddie can’t help but look away, feeling oddly shy considering the situation.

Eddie finishes out the stream in his normal fashion, pulling his sweatpants over his waist lazily as you disappear offscreen after Eddie lands another open-mouthed kiss on you, tasting his own come as your tongue sneaks into his mouth without warning, chuckling softly at your antics.

Eddie discloses that he wouldn’t be doing any private shows afterwards, mostly because he was exhausted—but he also just didn’t feel like it, which was entirely normal for him, but he knew that aftercare was important. It happened with Steve occasionally, after a few rougher scenarios, and he couldn’t imagine leaving you alone after something like this. It also dawns on him that he really just wants to spend time with you. 

Once everything is finished up, he peeks into the bathroom as you’re stepping out of his shower, towel wrapped tightly around your body, wet hair dripping on his tile floor. 

“How was I?” You ask with a lilt to your voice, fishing for compliments—even though you knew you didn’t need to.

Eddie smiles warmly, coming up behind you, staring over your shoulder into the mirror—it was contagious, forcing you to smile too. 

“You’re a natural.” He says honestly, his hand winding around your front to tip up under your chin, head tilted slightly to look at him from a more comfortable angle. “But, I never want to do that again.”

You open your mouth to argue, but Eddie interrupts quickly.

“I can’t hold it together with you like I can with others.” He admits, “I can disconnect from it, but you—it’s so hard.”

“Eddie,” You say softly, “are you trying to say that you have a crush on me?”

Eddie doesn’t answer, letting you go almost immediately, not willing to deal with your teasing so openly. 

“You do,” You call after him, “—I want to hear you say it.”

“It doesn’t—“

You follow after him in nothing but your towel, shoving him against his bed weakly, his knees hit the edge and force him to sit. 

“Say it.” You push, forcing your knee between his outstretched legs. “Or I’m not testing out my severe lack of gag reflex on you ever again.”

“Hey, that’s uncalled for.” Eddie protests petulantly, avoiding the teasing finger you point his way, his hand shoving yours away gently. “Fuck—fine, I like you. Why does it matter?”

“Because we could have been fucking this entire time. I thought I was just your little passion project—“ You tell him, laughing at the thought, “not that I cared—but I just figured you wanted to stay friends, that’s why I never crossed that line until you asked me.”

“You’re unbelievable.” He sighs, pulling at the underside of your thighs until you’re seated carefully in his lap, not caring that the water was probably soaking his cotton sweatpants.

“Are you forgetting who our mutual friend is?” You ask, “I’m not that bad, Eddie.”

“Close enough.” He smiles, earning a soft hand to the side of his face as you shoved him away and hopped off his lap, trodding away toward the bathroom again. 

Eddie was enamored, with good reasoning, and he couldn’t help himself. He’s never done relationships or even half-assed sexual centric friendships, it was all very new to him. Still, he couldn’t help but want everything you had to offer and give everything he had in return. 

There’s a few pings from the bathroom, your phone nearly vibrating off the counter.

“Hey,” Your voice carries, earning a soft “Huh?” in response.

“You should probably call Steve—I didn’t really tell him we were doing this.” You say quickly, hoping that Eddie could be the one to break the news. “He’s probably losing his shit.”

And surely enough, the rest of the night was spent shoved together on the couch of your apartment, listening to Steve ramble on about how betrayed he felt.

“A word of warning would’ve been nice—I’m just trying to support a friend and then I see one best friend fucking my other best friend—I can’t unsee that.”

“So you watched the whole thing?” Eddie asks with a chuckle he can’t force down, glancing over at your horrified expression.

Steve shrugs, “Yeah—it wasn’t horrible.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You retort, “You’re just jealous that people liked me more than you.”

“Not even close.” Steve lies horribly.

Eddie watches you two with amusement, head switching back and forth between your endless banter.

“Well, it’s not happening again so you have nothing to worry about—people still love you.” Eddie defends, earning a supportive nod from you.

Steve smirks, “Yeah—that’s what they all say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steve shrugs without answering—he knew you both well enough, and despite Eddie’s protest about keeping real connections offline, it was a damn good marketing idea.

“I give her three months,” Steve says, elbowing Eddie in the rib, “You—one, maybe two.”

It didn’t matter what you two thought—Steve knew there was some truth to it and it was only a matter of time.

[f10werfae]

No Panties Indoors

pairing: Lumberjack!Husband!Henry Cavill X Wife!Reader

summary: Housewife Y/n can’t help but find her wild husband extremely sexy while he’s fixing another one of his projects (Major Dom possessive Henry)(requested by anon)

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Y/n gushed happily watching her husband Henry, fix up the treehouse in their backyard. His blue vest not doing anything to hide his big burly arms, which he used to constantly man handle his wife into the most compromising positions. In his head he was just, “Makin a little baby for us” claiming that’s all Y/n really needed.

It had only been weeks since Henry had convinced Y/n that her friends had been no good for her, ever since they made her think that she needed to use makeup. And to think they nearly convinced her to shave her bush, which Henry was not the happiest about. Since then the possessive bear of a man had kept Y/n cooped up in their secluded cabin in the woods, his arms never leaving her body unless absolutely necessary.

“You just gon’ stare at me all day bun?” Henry smirked breaking Y/n’s train of thought, his hands going around her waist to land on her ass, using his strength to push her against him. “Didn’t mean to, jus thought you looked pretty” Y/n smiled, looking up with stars in her eyes, and she just couldn’t help but squeal when she felt him grope her ass. To the rest of the town that action may seem extremely lewd, but that was simply the couple’s way of showing affection.

“Pretty huh? Ya know what else is pretty? My sugar’s sweet gorgeous pussy” He whispered into her ear, his hand going from her rear to under the skirt of her summer dress. “Bearrr” Y/n whined holding onto his thick wrist, his fingers pressing on her button lightly.

“Jus’ checkin my woman’s followin the rules, can’t be too careful” Henry winked, rubbing three slow circles onto her clit before pulling his hands out, holding her eyes as he licked the slickness which had already collected onto his thumb. “See! I told you I follow the rules, no panties in the house” Y/n scoffed walking away, Henry’s eyes trained on her beautiful figure as she walked away to presumably start on supper; all Henry could think to himself was ‘How did I convince a woman like that to elope with me?’

Once Y/n saw that Henry was back to work on his treehouse, she resumed her place on the seat by the massive window, if Henry looked at her direction he’d be able to see her as clear as day. In fact when he was busy chopping wood, he’d ask her to sit there so he could just look at her every few minutes. Saying that he needed his sweet sugar or else he’d go through major withdrawals and who was she to deny her husband, the man who was now providing for her.

Y/n watched as Henry wiped the sweat from his forehead, his skin showing a shiny sliver of a tan from working all day long, in truth Y/n had missed the clinginess of the animal she called her beloved husband. Propping up her legs wide open to face the window, the heat of the sun hitting her exposed pussy. Y/n slid her hand down, feeling the wetness start to leak onto the soft cushions, a pout in her face knowing Henry wouldn’t finish until he was done.

She gasped as two of her fingers found her sensitive button, trying to imitate Henrys actions from earlier, but of course nothing compared to his calloused thick fingers. Throwing her head back she let her fingers slip through her folds, soft whimpers leaving her as she reached her slicked up hole, her fingers taunting the opening.

“Fuckin’ hell sugar, you can’t even pleasure yourself like I do, pathetic. Come out ‘ere and i’ll sort you out lovely” Henry said knocking on the plane glass window, Y/n immediately closing her legs in shock and pouting once she saw Henry now up close to the glass and smirking at her.

“Mhm don’t wanna interrupt, you seem busy, and if you don’t finish then you’ll take longer to come insidee” Y/n said shaking her head defiantly, rushing out the backdoor when she saw Henry tilt his head, his jaw tightened and his eyes now glaring. “i’m finished sugar”

“C-coming!” Y/n shouted rushing out to put on her new branded slippers he had bought her, only for her body to smash into his chest suddenly. “Damn right you are woman, n’ maybe we can get started on that baby you want so badly” Henry grumbled interlacing their fingers together, her giant golden wedding ring spitting lights all over the dark fence.

“wait… really?!” Y/n beamed naively letting him lead her into his treehouse, but then again, what sort of treehouse had he really built?

———

Taglist Tags (form is up there^^): @hoya122 @imahallucinationnn @elenavampire21 @luvabellee @cookielovesbook-akie @theekyliepage @cilliansangel @thoughtsofreid @kzhlvlysstuff @grxnde-dwt @p4st3lst4rs @thebaileybugle @teti-menchon0604 @ggmimitf @ninasw0rld @acornacre @keiva1000 @spencerreidat4am @diyabhanushali1 @angelmather1 @hp-hogwartsexpress @lastwandastan @fdl305 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefsemimanaged @nikkitc0703 @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaaay @marvelgurl @princess-paramour @stormcloudss @uwiuwi @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @tinyelfperson @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @beck07990 @thereisa8ella @pandaxnienke @kimhtoo17

[yikesharringrove]

steve being absolutely whipped for steve is my favorite thing ever. like ok what if they were friends and billy likes steve, and steve's oblivious to it but billy will drop whatever he's doing to make steve's like a the tiniest bit easier and it's so cute

It all starts with homework.

Homework Steve dropped on the floor in the hallway, to be more specific.

He fucking tripped and his shit went everywhere, and he was scrambling to pick it all up, when he noticed another pair of hands shuffling with his papers.

“Thanks, Hargrove,” he muttered.

“Most of these are wrong.” Steve snatched the math worksheet out of his hands, his face hot as he stuffed it in his backpack.

He tried to push past the absolutely solid wall that was Billy Hargrove, but the other boy kept blocking him.

“C’mon, I’ll help you.”

“I don’t need any help.”

It was a fucking lie. He knew he’d gotten most of the problems wrong. They were working on some weird formula that had to do with area, or volume, or something like that. And Steve really didn’t understand it.

But he didn’t want any help from fucking Hargrove, who would just spread it around the school that Steve Harrington is in remedial geometry as a senior.

But Hargrove had reached into Steve's backpack, and yanked out the assignment, using the pencil he had stored behind his ear to erase Steve’s shitty work.

“All you have to do is multiply the length by the width by the height. And that’s volume.”

Steve had added those three values and then cubed them. It had taken him hours.

“I know.”

Billy gave him a scathing look.

“Meet me in the library at lunch, and we’ll fix it.”

-

Steve wasn’t actually expecting Billy to be there, but he was. And they fixed Steve’s math.

And he got an A on the homework, his first one all year.

So it became a thing. They’d do Steve’s math homework at lunch together. And Billy would walk him through the tough problems, and clap him on the back when he got something by himself.

His teacher noticed his progress, and congratulated him on it.

“I got a tutor,” he told her.

They were studying on some random Thursday together, Billy with his nose in some worn-out novel, periodically peeking over the pages to take a look at Steve's math homework.

He was doing much better, and now Billy only had to silently point to an incorrect answer for Steve to go back and fix it.

Steve's stomach rumbled, breaking the silence,

"Jesus, Harrington. I think your stomach is trying to eat itself."

Steve rolled his eyes, but he smiled at Billy.

"Seriously, just eat lunch."

There technically was a rule against food in the library, but the librarian liked Billy, and tended to turn a blind eye to whatever he was doing at his usual back table.

Steve checked his watch.

"I'll just grab something later. I need to finish this."

He kept working on his math. His stomach growled again.

Billy sighed.

He dug into his bag, pulling out the crumpled brown paper bag Susan has passed him in the morning. She always made him lunch after a rough night with his dad.

Consolation prize, he guesses.

He pulled out the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, placing one half on Steve's open textbook.

Steve looked at him with round eyes.

"Nah dude, that's your lunch. I can get something after school."

"Like hell. Just eat the sandwich, Harrington."

Steve scarfed the first half like a small animal, and Billy glared at him until he had the second half.

He'll be okay, he can just sneak some food at home before his dad gets back from work.

-

"Harrington! How many times," Coach yelled from the sidelines. "You're leaving yourself too open!"

Steve was breathing hard, sprinting down the court after being bowled over by one of the guys on the other team.

It was deafening in the gym, the stands packed full.

Steve was playing like shit. The other team was dogging him, stealing the ball from him, blocking his every move.

He was point guard to Billy's shooting guard.

Billy yanked him by the back of the jersey, pulling him back to mutter in his ear.

Steve nodded once.

It was a good play, a simple pick and roll.

The other team scored, and Billy nodded at Steve.

They brought it down the court, and Billy made eye contact with Steve as he moved to set a pick on the asshole guard that kept knocking Steve down.

Steve moved, sprinting to the basket to finally make a fucking shot.

As he moved, the guard followed, but there was Billy.

They collided hard, and Billy got knocked flat on his ass.

His head cracked against the wooden floor, and he saw stars for a second.

He was fucking pleased as punch to see the other guard flat on his back, too. Looking as dazed as Billy felt.

There was a hand in front of his face, and he took it, allowing Steve to bring him to his feet, a look of concern in his big eyes.

"You okay, dude?"

"You score?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm fine." He clapped Steve on the shoulder, jogging back to get in the game, shaking off the dizzy spell.

-

Billy paid no mind to the phone ringing.

He was sat at the kitchen table, finishing up his chemistry homework.

Sometimes he and Max did homework at the kitchen table together. Neil would give approving looks when he walked by if he saw Billy helping her with something she pretended not to understand.

"Hargrove residence." Neil was the only one who answered the phone that way. The rest of them said Hargrove-Mayfield.

Billy tightened his grip on his pencil.

He could feel his dad's eyes on the back of his head, standing straight against the wall where the phone was mounted.

"Yes, he is here."

Fuck.

What could Billy have done now? He's been a model fucking citizen for the past week.

And no one can trace that fucking fire under the bleachers back to him. Besides, he put it out before anything could really get burned.

"Billy, the phone's for you."

At least if he was in trouble, the person wouldn't be asking to speak with him.

Billy stood up, ignoring Max's questioning look.

Billy took the phone, not making eye contact with his dad.

"Hey! Sorry, I know this is weird, but I got your phone number from Max a little while ago, and I know usually we just study during school, but I am so fucking confused on this assignment. And I'll pay you! I'll even order food if you want to come over to help me. Oh! This is Steve by the way."

As if Billy wouldn't recognize his rambling.

"Um, sure. I can help you." He looked at his dad. "And no need to pay me."

"Just try to get out of here without any money. I dare you. So, can you come over? Tonight? This is due tomorrow."

Billy wasn't supposed to leave on school nights.

"Can you give me a second? Please?" He didn't wait for Steve to respond, he just lowered the phone.

"Dad," he started.

"How long have you been tutoring that Harrington boy?" Neil's voice was unreadable.

"A few weeks. Mostly at school. He needs some help tonight, and uh, offered to pay me if I come by his place."

"And you said you didn't want to be paid?"

"Yes, sir."

Billy tried his very best not to flinch when his dad patted him on the shoulder.

"That's good. Rubbing elbows with the Harrigntons. I was wondering why they didn't press charges when you beat that boy to a pulp."

Billy fucking hated when Neil brought that shit up.

It wasn't his fault he has a hard time controlling his rage. If anything, it's Neil's fault for slapping him around before sending him on an errand.

Steve just happened to kinda get in the way.

But Billy apologized, and Steve said he got over it, and clearly he did, if he's inviting Billy over to his house to work on his homework.

He raised the phone back up to his ear.

"Sure, I can help you. But I can't be out late. It's a school night."

Neil nodded approvingly, and Billy flipped him the bird the second he turned his back.

"Yeah, whatever. The front door's unlocked, just come upstairs when you're here."

Steve didn't even wait for a reply before he ended the call, and Billy quietly placed the phone back on the receiver.

He cleaned up his own homework, and took his bag with him.

"Billy," his dad said as he was halfway out the back door. "Curfew's at 8:30. And I'll be locking the door."

"Yes, sir."

-

Harrington's house is fuckin' huge.

Billy should've expected it, with Steve's family being as well connected as they were.

He let himself into the house, as Steve had told him to do, and was immediately met with a slight woman, staring at him like he'd just walked uninvited into her home.

"Uh," he said. Why the fuck would Steve tell him to just come in? "I'm Billy? Billy Hargrove. Steve's tutor."

And then her face brightened, and holy shit, Steve looks exactly like his mom.

"He is upstairs, I'll show you." She waved him to follow behind her and she took off up the stairs.

Billy scrambled to kick his boots off and raced after her.

She was lean like Steve, with long legs and insanely thick,dark brown hair that went clear down to her ass.

(Steve even kinda has his mom's perfect ass.)

She knocked on the door to Steve's room, even though it was slightly ajar, and let herself in.

Steve was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands, all curled up and sitting cross-legged on his chair.

"Tesoro, il tuo amico è qui."

Steve turned, and he fucking beamed at Billy.

"Grazie, Mamma." He waved Billy over in the same motion his mother had done downstairs.

Billy felt awkward in the room, and his face felt hot, and his palms were sweaty.

"Avete bisogno di qualcosa?" She asked, and holy shit, how has it taken Billy this long to realize that Steve and his mother were not even speaking fucking English to one another.

He knew he was staring.

"No, grazie."

She smiled again at Billy as she left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

"Damn, your mom's hot," was all Billy could think to say.

Luckily, it worked. Steve rolled his eyes, turning back to his work and shaking his head. But Billy could see a tiny smile on his face.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't start that shit and just help me with this, okay?"

Billy peered over his shoulder.

Steve was working on an English assignment, the same one Billy had completed last week.

It was a questionnaire about the Shakespeare play they had read in class, Othello.

Billy knew it was grueling, fifty multiple choice, ten matching, and three essay questions.

He had the book open text to him, and there had been lines and passages highlighted and annotated.

"This shit was nasty. I did it last week."

Steve scrunched his brows up at Billy.

"You're in English 12? How? You're a junior?"

Billy shrugged.

"That's just what I tested into when I moved here. I was on a fast track in California." Yeah, he would've probably gotten to graduate a semester early, if they had stayed.

"Okay, well, then you can help me. Because I can barely read as it is, and this stupid Shakespeare stuff just doesn't even make sense."

He put his head down on his desk, leaning his forehead against the questionnaire and groaning loudly.

"It's like another language. You have to learn to translate it. I mean, you and your mom were speakin' something, so you know how to do this."

"Yeah, and that's kinda the problem." Steve sat up, looking at Billy. Billy moved to sit on the corner of his desk. "My mom's from Italy, and I didn't even speak English until I was like, six. Regular English has never made sense to me, and then they give us this shit." He flipped the book closed harshly.

Billy had to bite his tongue, because the only thing he could think to say was you sure do talk a lot for someone who allegedly doesn't understand English. But he didn't really wanna be a dick right now.

"Okay. Here's what will do. We'll answer as many questions as you can. Once we get to the ones about specific passages, I'll read them in plain terms, and you'll be fine, okay?"

Steve nodded glumly, but he picked up his pencil.

"Okay, dude. You can definitely answer this first question."

Question one: Who wrote Othello.

Steve circled the correct answer and Billy pat him on the head. Steve glared at him playfully.

They went through the questions.

Some were easy, and clearly all Steve needed was a cheerleader, because he circled the correct ones right away.

But then, some were fucking difficult.

"Okay, question 36: What is the significance of Othello's handkerchief?"

Steve flipped through the book desperately.

"What fucking handkerchief?"

-

It was a little past eight, and Steve was just barely halfway through the packet.

He was clearly trying not to get frustrated, as he came across harder and harder questions, understanding less and less.

"So, in the passage, Iago is basically trying to turn Othello against Desdemona. He's saying that if she deceived her father, she would deceive Othello."

"But, I don't get why she lied to her dad. Like, what was the lie?"

"He didn't want her to get married to Othello, but she did anyway."

Steve just looked desperately at Billy.

"So, she did cheat on Othello? And Iago is telling him about it?"

"No, she didn't Iago is trying to fuck with Othello."

"Wait, so Desdemona did nothing wrong, and then Othello still kills her?" He looked incredulous.

"Yeah, man. It's Shakespeare. In the tragedies, everyone dies. In the comedies, everyone fucks."

"Why?"

"Because it was Elizabethan England, and everyone was fucking and dying, and half of these stories are based on the Greek plays that came before, in which everyone just fucked and died."

"I wish my life was like that. I just wanna fuck. And then die." Steve put his pencil down, leaning back in his chair. "I'm sorry, man. That I dragged you here to help me with this. I'm just fucking dumb."

Billy smacked Steve in the back of the head, and he yelped, glaring at Billy and rubbing the spot where Billy had merely tapped him.

"You're not stupid. This is hard. Now, let's keep going. This isn't gonna finish itself."

-

Billy ended up finally leaving Steve's close to ten.

His mom thanked him for helping Steve, and shoved a wad of cash in his hand that Billy felt too awkward to count until he had parked in his spot behind his house.

Jesus Christ, she gave him fifty bucks.

He put it with the rest of his stash, in the locked glove compartment, and wiggled into the back seat.

He doesn't doubt that his dad had locked the house promptly at curfew. He doesn't doubt that he was gonna get his shit rocked tomorrow after school when he showed up back at home.

But Steve had finished his assignment, and had flung his arms around Billy when it was finally over, and it's okay. Billy can take a few smacks.

-

"Hey!"

Billy turned to see Steve rushing towards him down the hall. His cheeks were pink and he was beaming.

He thrust the assignment from last night into Billy's hands, and there was a big red A- on the top.

"That's my best English grade, like, ever. Thank you! Seriously, Billy. Thank you so much. I'm taking you out for dinner this weekend, okay? To say thank you. I'll buy you a burger and a milkshake, and anything you want."

"Nah, man. Your mom paid me last night, it's okay."

Steve shook his head, his hair flopping onto his forehead, and he pushed it back, still grinning. Fuck, he's so pretty.

"Can it. We're going to the dinner and you're gonna eat fries until you puke, okay? We're going Friday."

Friday.

Billy's supposed to help Susan trim all the hedges on Friday.

Okay, if he wakes up early, he can do the front before school, and if he comes home during his free period, he could-

"Sure, Pretty Boy. Friday."

-

He was up before the sun, cutting hedges.

He had to shower before school, which he fucking hates doing, because he doesn't have enough time to properly do his hair in the mornings.

But he finished them.

He finished them all.

And he told Susan such when she handed him his pity packed lunch that morning.

She thanked him, and his dad narrowed his eyes.

"Why?" He barked.

Billy tried to act casual.

"Couldn't sleep, thought I'd just get it out of the way."

Neil didn't stop staring suspiciously at Billy until he and Max had closed the backdoor behind them.

"Why did you really do all that this morning?" Max asked when they were safe in the car.

"Jus' have plans after school."

She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, that's rich. You're going on a date."

Well, he hopes so.

But that's never gonna happen.

The school day seemed to pass as slowly as fucking possible. He was anxious all day, fidgety and nervous, and a tiny bit sweaty.

Steve was leaning against his car outside when Billy finally stomped away from the school, and he smiled brightly at Billy.

"Should we just meet at the diner?"

"Yeah. I gotta drive Max, so." He gestured lamely.

"Okay. See you in a bit." Steve tapped the hood of the Camaro, and normally Billy would've threatened to bite anyone that knocked into his car like that, but Steve can kinda do whatever he wants as far as Billy is concerned.

Billy made sure to idle in front of the house, making sure Max got inside alright, and making sure his dad watched him drop her off.

He'd be in worse shit if Neil thought Billy made Max walk home by herself.

But he sped back into town the second the screen door slammed closed behind her.

Steve already had a booth when Billy arrived, and he waved Billy down enthusiastically, as if Billy didn't hone in on him the second he walked through the door.

"Hey, man! Glad you could make it," he said, as if he didn't insist that Billy make it.

Billy grunted at him, shuffling into the booth on the other side of Steve.

"Thanks again, dude. My grades have never been so good. My dad even said I've been doing alright, which is, I think, the nicest thing he's ever said to me."

"Yeah. It's no problem."

"Why don't people know you're smart?" Steve's question took Billy off guard a little bit. "You act like you're a dumb jock, like me."

"You're not dumb. And it's just self-preservation, I guess. I don't need every pretty boy in this school to know I'm a good tutor. Already got my hands full."

Steve's cheeks went the faintest bit pink, and if Billy didn't know better, he'd say that Steve's casual shifting of position was more like a little squirm.

"I guess that makes sense," Steve mumbled, picking at the edge of the menu in front of him.

Their waiter came at that moment, and Steve ordered right away, rattling off what he wanted like it was second nature.

"So the usual, then?" The waiter winked at Steve, and Steve flushed a little deeper, looking shyly at Billy.

"I'll have the same." The waiter nodded, and swept off with their menus.

"So, you're here a lot?" Billy didn't want to look too far into it, but he was ravenous for little scraps of information about Steve. A little peek into his life.

"Yeah. I come here for dinner when I'm home alone a lot. Cooking for one person is kinda lame, and I like being somewhere that's not so. Quiet."

"How often you home alone?"

"Every few weeks. My mom travels around with my dad a lot, but she feels bad about leaving me on my own. Doesn't really stop her, thought." And Steve looked positively glum, like a pouty little cat caught outside in the rain.

"Well, next time you're alone let me know. I don't have too much going on. Usually."

Steve brightened, looking at Billy with a tiny mile on his face.

"Yeah? You don't have better friends then some dumbass you tutor?"

"I don't tutor a dumbass. And in case you hadn't noticed, I don't have many friends. Only been in town for a few months."

"I've been here my whole life, and I don't have many friends, either."

"That's their problem, then."

Steve beamed at him.

[celtic-crossbow]

Break Apart, Leave a Scar

Pairing: Scud & Fem!Reader (pre-relationship)

Warnings: Brief description of injuries; stitches

Summary: Blade brings home an injured human and tells you to fix him up. The beginning of a beautiful friendship. Sorta.

A/N: First attempt with our dear stoner. Be gentle. Thanks, @catswonderland, for the song. 🩵

“Picking up strays now?” You pushed the needle through the mangled flesh and pulled the suture tight. Your comrade said nothing and continued to wipe down the blade of his katana. “It’ll be a miracle if he survives this anyway. Waste of my time.” There came a groan from above where you worked, but you didn’t allow yourself to look toward the source. You might actually feel sorry for him otherwise. 

Blade had walked away, his absence a noticeable shift in the room. What the hell had he been thinking, bringing a human to the warehouse? What if you hadn’t had your serum? All the blood. You would have finished what had already been started. 

From what you could see, there were no bites. The vamps had been fucking with him, prolonging his suffering for some twisted satisfaction it would bring once they had finally decided to drain him. Still, Blade should have left him. It would have been ruled an animal attack, accidental death. 

You tied off the last suture, distantly grateful the stranger had remained, for the most part, blissfully unaware. He likely would have died from traumatic shock and pain. Standing back, you placed your hands on your hips with a huff. You had to clean him up or all your hard work would be for naught. You needed to start an IV for fluids and antibiotics, hoping to hell that the medical stocks contained what you needed. Blade had been busier than usual, which led to a great deal of wound care and no time to replenish your inventory. 

You were wiping down the stranger’s neck, blood having splattered all the way to his lower face, when he stirred. You retracted your hand swiftly, watching impassively as his face twisted into a pained grimace before his eyes fluttered open. You weren’t really expecting such a vivid shade of blue. 

“Where…the fuck?” Bleary eyes studied the areas he could see without turning his head. “That was…some strong shit.” He likely meant whatever it was he had been smoking before the attack. You could smell it on him easily, lingering just below the blood and the stench of the vamps that had attacked him. 

“You’re safe here.” You stated flatly, holding his gaze when his eyes found yours. “When you’ve healed, we’ll drop you off and you can continue your life.” He didn’t reply. Blinking slowly, his eyes were wide and anything but fearful. More curious. “Stop staring.”

“You’re…fucking hot.” He slurred, strong enough to offer you a lopsided grin. 

“I’m going to blame the blood loss.”

“Don’t be…like that, baby. You’re…smokin’.” His eyelids were already drooping. 

“You should rest. I’ll start an IV.” You turned to walk away, sighing deeply when you heard the weak ‘hey’ from behind you. “Yeah?”

“What’s…your name?” His eyes were closed and his head was slowly lolling to the side, but he continuously fought to move it back. 

“Doesn’t matter.” You dismissed the question without remorse. 

“I’m…Joshua. Josh. But most…people… call me Scud.” And he was out, deep breaths through slightly parted lips. Tilting your head, you eased closer but still maintained a respectable distance. Scud? What the hell kinda nickname was that? He was handsome, you couldn’t deny that. Dark, shaggy hair. Lean muscle and strong shoulders. And those blue eyes. Some instinct, though, told you he was a live wire, a brain that never stopped and lacked a filter. Judging by the scent of weed that clung to his very skin, he had found a buffer for that. 

“Y/N.” You told his unconscious form after another heavy sigh. “My name is Y/N.” He likely didn’t hear you, but at least you could affirm that you did indeed tell him your name. 

And with that, you retreated to the stock room to gather what was needed to keep that inevitable pain in your ass alive. 

[captainremmington-13]

A Lady Made of Snow

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova.

SUMMARY: Bellova begins to notice how dedicated Coriolanus is to helping his tribute, which greatly displeases her. But her anger at the young Snow is temporarily forgotten about when one of her classmates dies in her arms. (i’m using a combination of the movie and book version of the events that occur in this chapter)

Warnings: spoilers for TBOSAS, death, mentions of violent urges, mentions of blood, crying, one swear word

Bellova sighed inwardly, drawing a rose with a fountain pen on her notebook where she was supposed to be writing down Dean Highbottom’s words. The lecture was pointless in her opinion. She knew everything the dean was talking about by heart, and she was alive when the events being discussed were occurring. 

She would never admit it to him, but she wished Coriolanus hadn’t skipped class to accompany his tribute. It was unusual for him, the star student, to miss a lecture, even one of Highbottom’s. The competition between them made the dean’s nonsensical ramblings almost bearable.

Then, as if on cue, a breathless and sweaty Coriolanus burst into the lecture hall. All eyes turned to him, shocked at his disheveled appearance.

“Your little excursion was in violation of about five different Academy rules, Mr. Snow. Chief amongst them, endangering a Capitol student,” Dean Highbottom said, not looking up from his papers. 

“What?” Coriolanus said, baffled. “Who?”

“You.” Highbottom’s response made Bellova roll her eyes. He was constantly looking for reasons to target the young Snow. “I’m moving for the Gamemakers to disqualify you as mentor immediately.”

“You said we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away,” Coriolanus argued, standing at his seat next to Bellova but not sitting down.

“I’ll add insubordination as well,” the dean said smugly.

“Holding her hand, Coryo? Introducing her to people?” Arachne said, clearly disgusted. “You make it look as if we’re one and the same as those animals.”

Bellova couldn’t help but agree silently with her. She hated that Coriolanus had done so much to promote Lucy Gray, even going so far as to touch her. Had he forgotten that he was of the purest Capitol blood, only fit to associate with those who also held that status?

“Coriolanus didn’t show those people anything they didn’t already know.”

Bellova had to grip her textbook to refrain from throwing something at the young Plinth. He was being foolish, saying such things in the presence of the dean and the other mentors.

“I don’t need your help, Sejanus,” Coriolanus snapped.

“That the tributes are human beings. Just like us,” Sejanus continued. “That’s why nobody wants to watch the Games. It’s because people know deep down that winning a war ten years ago doesn’t justify starving people’s children, taking away their freedoms, their rights.”

“Shut up, Sejanus, please,” Bellova murmured through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, Dr. Gaul appeared, startling many of the mentors. Bellova looked at her, setting down her fountain pen.

“Snow fell down in the cage,” she began, smiling crookedly. “It fell down in the cage but it landed…”

“On stage,” Coriolanus finished.

The doctor grinned with delight. “You’re good at games. Maybe one day, you’ll be a Gamemaker like me.”

“If the Games continue at all,” Highbottom added.

“Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Mr. Snow’s in that zoo. And I came here to ask your star mentor a question: what are The Hunger Games for?”

This sparked an argument between Dr. Gaul, Highbottom, Coriolanus, and Sejanus. Bellova listened, intrigued. This was the most interesting thing that had happened during one of Highbottom’s lectures since the time Persephone and Arachne almost ripped each other’s heads off over a petty dispute. 

Coriolanus then proposed an idea, about making the games more “personal” for Capitol citizens. 

“We need them to invest,” he said. “And if we bend a few Capitol laws, we could even have them place bets. Look, I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena. But if you give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth Prize that she can win people’s attention.”

Dr. Gaul looked at him. “I’d like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow.”

“Wait,” Clemensia Dovecote spoke up. “You mean you might actually use his ideas?”

“If it’ll help the ratings, why not?” Dr. Gaul responded.

“Coriolanus and I are class partners, Dr. Gaul,” Clemensia said hastily. “We do all of our assignments together.”

‘Someone’s desperate for approval,’ Bellova thought, giving Clemensia a brief look of annoyance.

Dr. Gaul laughed, sending a visible chill through many of the mentors. “It’ll be an interesting test.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the lecture ended, the mentors went straight to the cafeteria. They were buzzing with excitement at the idea that Dr. Gaul may listen to their suggestions. Having an idea approved by her could do wonders for their future careers.

Bellova stood in line holding a tray, eyeing the mint chocolate fudge in the dessert section. She loved mint. It reminded her of wintertime, her favorite season.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Coriolanus tapping her on the shoulder. 

“What do you want?” she asked.

Coriolanus scoffed. “Your perfect manners never cease to amaze me.”

Bellova sneered. “Funny. Now get to the point.”

“I’m going to sneak some food out of here and give it to Lucy Gray at the Zoo. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me. You haven’t met your tribute yet, after all.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, putting a few slices of bread on her plate. “Breaking the rules again? After Highbottom just threatened to write you up for insubordination?”

“You were the one who told me to do anything it takes to succeed.”

“Fair enough,” she sighed. “Fine, I’ll come with you. I’ll give my tribute some bread while we’re there.”

Coriolanus smirked. “Who’s breaking rules now?”

Bellova gave him a look. “I’ll see you at the Zoo, Coryo.” With that, she grabbed a stack of mint chocolate fudge slices and walked off to join her friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that afternoon, Coriolanus, Bellova, and a handful of the other mentors met up at the Capitol Zoo. They immediately made their way to the monkey exhibit, where the tributes were being held. Nodding at the Peacekeepers surrounding the area, they stood inches away from the bars keeping them separated from the district children.

Bellova scanned the exhibit and eventually spotted her tribute in the corner. “Velvereen!” she called. The girl made her way over to the bars, looking at Bellova warily.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m your mentor, Bellova. Here, I brought some bread for you.” She held out the napkin to Velvereen, who took it instantly. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to visit earlier. I have a busy schedule.”

Velvereen said nothing, focusing on wolfing down the bread. 

“So,” Bellova continued. “Have you talked to any of the other tributes?”

“Not besides Facet,” she said, pointing to the male District 1 tribute. “Oh, and the singer girl. The one with the strange dress.”

Bellova glanced over at Lucy Gray, who was talking very intimately with Coriolanus. She fought back a look of irritation. Lucy Gray was certainly a spectacle, but she was clearly deranged. She couldn’t understand why Coriolanus was so fascinated with her, other than her extremely strange behavior. 

“I see,” Bellova said. “Well, I promise to visit more often if I can. My advice to you is to make allies. The more that you have, the better your chance of survival is.” 

Velvereen nods. “I know. That’s what my father told me.” 

Bellova gave her a small smile. “It’s good to know that you have a basic understanding of strategy.”

She looked to her left, and saw Arachne taunting her tribute with a glass bottle. “Arachne!“ she hissed. “What the hell are you doing?“

“Shut up, Bellova!” Arachne snapped. “Mind your own business.”

“Fine!” Bellova snapped back. She and Velvereen continued discussing the Games. She was thankful that her tribute was willing to converse, unlike several, who refused to interact with their mentors. But as much as she tried to focus on her tribute, she felt her eyes wander to Coriolanus and Lucy Gray, who seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. It seemed as if her odd charms were beginning to rub off on the young Snow as well. If she hadn’t been surrounded by so many Capitol citizens, she would’ve been tempted to grab Lucy Gray by the hair and slam her head against the metal bars of the enclosure. 

Her violent fantasy was abruptly halted by a chorus of screams. 

Brandy, Arachne’s tribute, had grabbed her mentor by the neck and snatched the bottle from her. “Help!” Arachne shrieked, trying desperately to escape her grasp. Before anyone could do anything, Brandy smashed the bottle against the metal bars of the cage, and used the serrated edge to stab her in the neck. 

“No, no, no!” Coriolanus screamed, rushing towards Arachne, who lay on the ground, convulsing in pain as the crowd screamed frantically around them. He gathered the girl in his arms, putting his hand to her throat, trying to stop the blood flow. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Hold on. Hold on!”

Arachne gasped for air, blood oozing from her neck. Bellova crouched down at her side, turning her head to face her.  “Hey, look at me. Hey, hold on! It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ll get help, I promise.” 

“Somebody help us, please!” Coriolanus yelled at the crowd. 

Chaos erupted, making the whole scene a blur. Brandy was shot by Peacekeepers, falling to the ground with a thud. The other tributes were screaming wildly, ducking away to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. 

Coriolanus and Bellova were eventually dragged away from Arachne, who was lifted onto a stretcher. They were escorted by Peacekeepers out of the Zoo and back onto Academy grounds. Once inside a quiet hallway, they collapsed onto the ground side by side, finally able to process what had just happened.

Bellova, who almost never showed any emotion besides smugness, anger, or contempt in Coriolanus’s presence, began to cry. Her head swam with terror and disgust, the sight of Arachne’s slit throat burned into her mind. She was never close to the girl, she found her to be shallow and hated her whining. But they had grown up together. She was part of the Capitol’s finest, meaning they had attended several events together over the years and visited each other’s homes regularly. And now, she was gone. 

“I should’ve done more to stop her,” she said, voice trembling uncontrollably. “She was being stupid, and I just let her keep doing it! Her blood is on my fucking hands! It’s all my fault!”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Coriolanus spoke up. “Blame the district girl. She was the one who did it.” 

“I know, I know,” Bellova cried, black mascara running down her face, ruining her perfect face of makeup. “But she’s dead too. I can’t even avenge Arachne by killing her. There’s nothing I can do.”

Coriolanus, who had finally stopped shaking, pulled Bellova into his side gently. He put his arm around her, rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder. “You’re safe now. This won’t ever happen again, the Capitol will tighten security tenfold.”

Without thinking, Bellova leaned into Coriolanus’s grasp. He patiently let her cry into his shoulder, while he tried to help steady her breathing. The two young students clung to each other, forgetting all of their past grievances in that moment. 

When they finally pulled away, they looked at each other, as if they were stunned at their own actions. Neither of them were affectionate towards each other, or affectionate people in general. Yet here they were, sitting on the cold marble floor of the Academy, comforting each other. 

Bellova cleared her throat. “We should probably get out of here. Let the administrators know that we’re going home early.” 

Coriolanus nodded, standing up and holding out his hand to help her up. Bellova took it, smiling ever-so slightly. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly. 

“Of course,” Coriolanus replied. 

They informed the staff that they’d be departing early. Nobody tried to stop them, understanding that they’d just been through a traumatic event. They walked down the steps of the Academy’s main building, standing near the curb.

Finally, Bellova broke the silence. “Let me take you back to your apartment. My driver will be here any minute.” Before Coriolanus could protest, she said, “You’re in no condition to walk that far. I know you always say you walk to and from school to clear your mind, but just let me do this for you. Please?”

“Fine,” Coriolanus said reluctantly. 

As they sat in the back of Bellova’s chauffeur’s car, neither of them said a word to each other. The death of Arachne had clearly rattled them both to the core, but they couldn’t bring themselves to talk about it. It still all felt like a nightmare. 

Bellova took a small compact and handkerchief out of her bag, using the cloth to wipe away the black stains her tears had left behind. She pressed some foundation over it, erasing any evidence of a breakdown. 

Coriolanus watched her, realizing that he’d likely never see her this vulnerable again. He was still surprised that she didn’t slap him for embracing her. They certainly had a unique relationship. Often times they were at each other’s throats, occasionally they exchanged words of advice and encouragement. But nevertheless, he didn’t want to see her so hurt. She was…a friend? A companion? Something other than a stranger, for sure. 

They pulled up outside of Coriolanus’s apartment complex, and Bellova’s driver opened the door for him. 

Coriolanus turned to Bellova, who was staring down at her hands. “Thank you for the ride. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” Bellova said, looking up to give him a small smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Coryo.”

“See you tomorrow, Bellova.”

And with one last nod, Coriolanus shut the door behind him, returning to his run-down apartment where Tigris and Grandma’am were waiting.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy

Author’s Note: This chapter was a lot longer than the last one lolll I really liked writing this part because things become a lot more intense. Let me know in the comments what you think and if you’d like to be tagged!

[oshiawaseni]

A post about the time Hawks made Kacchan really, really jealous.

When I watched this scene in the anime I found it amusing as hell. Kacchan’s behaviour felt kind of strange/off though, but after I saw the panelling of the scene in the manga recently, it only seems even more funny and bkdk driven. His behaviour also made more sense. I’ll breakdown the scene and go into some of Kacchan’s deeper issues after.

They meet with Hawks after he helps them bring down villains. Izuku is star struck from the get-go and nervously greets the rank #2, who likewise recognises him from the sports festival.

Hawks tells Izuku he's heard about him from Tokoyami... then backtracks and says, "No, actually... (even without that) I would have liked to have worked with you, too, but..."

However, before he can finish explaining himself... he feels a "sakki", meaning bad feeling or literally "killing intent." (But the anime didn't show this part of their interaction! or how noticing the sakki interrupted Hawks' speech. So this is another one of those little flavourful nuances anime watchers(me) missed out on)

sakki (殺気  The individual kanji are pronounced satsu and ki, respectively, but due to Japanese grammar rules, the -tsu in the former is dropped and the consonant in ki is geminated, turning it into sa- + -kki.), which is primarily used by practitioners of Ninjutsu; "Killing Intent" is the most literal translation, with "Bloodlust" as a close second. The Chinese equivalent is sha qi - x

Which is kind of funny, considering Katsuki's soon to be revealed hero name which also had “Satsu” in it. Dai Baku Sasshin Dynamight. (Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight)

Hawks turns to the source of the "sakki"... and it's Kacchan staring bloody murder at him, challenging him! After the stuff Hawks said, it feels like Kacchan is even more annoyed at Hawks for taking a special interest in Izuku, by saying he wanted to work with him (despite being so busy he left Tokoyami in the care of his sidekicks). I think in Kacchan's mind this means a scenario where Izuku would have been with Hawks at his hero nest instead of with Kacchan at Endeavour's agency... 👀 How territorial! I think Hawks also noticed something was off and taunts him, just for fun. 🤭

Also, this is only a funny coincidence, but after Hawks says something that feels like he's wanting to 'take Izuku away,' Kacchan just happens to say “About before, I got in faster than you." It could mean absolutely nothing, or it could be the slightest nuance for "I was here first. Deku's already been mine since childhood, so back off.” Like an inside joke Hori made for himself, knowing he was writing bkdk to become the main canon couple in the series.

I'm /hj ofc but… you never know! It's wild that Kacchan is even this hung up on what Hawks did in the first place, so I might be trying to make it make more sense! understandably, right?

When Hawks leaves, not only is Izuku swooning over him again... now Shouto is too! Kacchan can't stand it! I don't know about you, but if Kacchan's intense reaction is only that Hawks showed them up, it’s a severe case of the punishment not fitting the crime. Not to mention, it began when Hawks started chatting up Izuku about getting him to intern with him and got even worse because Izuku went full fanboy mode LOL

Later at the agency he’s still filled with rage from their meeting, making up an insulting nickname for Hawks that can loosely be translated as “smiling birdbrain” (Hawks wears a carefree smile on his face and Katsuki doesn’t like it. He thinks he’s being smug - which he was, but only just a little… so again… punishment ≠ crime which is why we can theorise there was something more to his jealousy.)

Lmaooo listen. Think of a really possessive boyfriend who can’t stand their lover checking out other people and commenting on how attractive they are. And you've literally got how Kacchan feels about being a hero in front of Izuku.

Kacchan's gotten jealous like this before, when Shouto declared war on Izuku at the start of BNHA. That's how he got involved with the Todoroki family drama, because his jealousy drove him to follow them sneaking off alone together. And again in the third movie, at the very end, when Kacchan's boyfriend stayed back to say goodbye to Rody, and he glared at them the whole way going up the escalator lmao

Jealous Katsuki "needs Izuku's attention on him always" Bakugou has three modes: “Why aren’t you looking only my way you shitty nerd.” “Forget this other bastard, what about me??? I’m ‘sugoi’ right?!!” and our fave (😂) “Just keep your eyes on me, shitty Deku!”

He responded with SO MUCH irritation at Hawks simply because Izuku’s fanboying over somebody that’s not him.

Poor Kacchan has to compete with all other heroes for Izuku’s affection because he’s an otaku that grew up worshipping all quirks. 😂

Meet Katsuki Bakugou: From the age of four, he was told by family, doctors, teachers, hero loving society and the next door neighbour's cat that his quirk is the embodiment of excellence. What a guy! He will go far in life so we should let him do whatever he wants, it’s fine! He can be my sidekick! In a world where a person's character and value are measured by the power and usefulness of their quirk, Katsuki was the king.

Then there’s Kacchan: Grew up alongside this shiny doe eyed shitnerd who was always watching him, walking behind him, telling him stuff like he's sugoi and his quirk is so cool and he is so cool and wouldn’t it be cool if he also got a quirk as strong as his... And years later, Kacchan is (unsurprisingly) triggered that his Deku is reacting to everyone else and their ‘inferior’ quirks in almost the exact same way that he does with him. He has the biggest LOVE (ONLY!) ME DAMNIT vibes with Izuku! good lordt

The main issue Katsuki encountered after entering U.A and the world of pro heroes, was suddenly not being the obvious choice for best anymore. His usual status of being society’s king was completely upended after his world opened up to people like Iida, Shoto, Enji and Hawks. Something that was so effortless to him before, now required a lot of hard work, if he was going to rise above even the outstanding.

And I think a big reason he feels insecure around other talented people is because a part of him will always want to stay the coolest and strongest in Izuku’s eyes! That’s why Izuku acknowledging others sets him off a little. He knows what Izuku’s like… but he still wants to be the coolest to him, unquestionably sugoi and stay Izuku’s #1.

And sometimes it’s almost like, unless Izuku is the one doing the praising and fanboying Katsuki and only Katsuki, there's just no meaning to any of it for him.

＊* .•° ✿ °•. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 ೋღ

It was only ever Izuku.

Growing up, surrounded by admiration from people who never dared to stand up to Katsuki... ultimately, it was only ever Izuku who valued his own set of principles and stood up to him when he was wrong. Because Izuku... was always honest with him, about everything. He let Katsuki know when he didn't approve of his behaviour, which meant the times Izuku did praise him was something that could be trusted. It didn't feel like the empty praise from everyone around him who only saw him for his quirk. It didn't feel like a lie.

Katsuki eventually realised the reason Izuku faced him was because Izuku genuinely cares. He saw all of him and despite intimately knowing his weaknesses and flaws not once did Izuku stop believing in him... so before Katsuki knew it, Izuku became the only person whose attention and approval actually meant something to him.

Can you blame him, though? Izuku’s the one who has been faithfully at Katsuki's side his entire life, sharing his dreams, believing in the best of him, gently encouraging him to do better than his worst, teaching him kindness of the heart and heroic sacrifice and finally… what it means to love someone so fiercely, you could give your everything and call it by their name.

Katsuki’s forever hero who always comes running to save him, no matter what. His one and only constant. How could he not become completely intertwined with him and fall hopelessly in love?

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝

Christmas in the snow was something you adored about the festive season, and spending it with the ones you loved, both human and animal, would make it all the better. But Bucky had a surprise up his sleeve for you; the cards of his mischievous ways held close to his chest until the moment was right.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☘︎ Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ☘︎ 1.2k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ☘︎ Tooth rotting fluff

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ☘︎ This was born from my love of lights.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ☘︎ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You had been given a very specific set of two rules to follow that day. 

Number one: you were not to step foot outside of the cabin under any circumstances. “If you need me,” Bucky said, his eyes trained on you. “Just come to the front door and yell for me—I’ll hear you and I’ll come, okay?”

You agreed, although reluctantly. 

Number two: in no way were you to attempt to uncover what he was up to — whether that be by interrogation, snooping, or skullduggery. 

Of course, you agreed; your fingers crossed behind your back. 

The first attempt, naturally, was a failure. 

You were standing at the front door. Bucky was obscured by the side of the cabin when you yelled out for him to come and get his coffee. “And if you want a snack–”

“Nah,” Bucky called back, and he wandered over, and conveniently, when he stood before you on the doorstep, the bulk of his frame blocked your view into the yard. “I’m good, thanks, baby.” 

Your attempt at looking over his shoulders did not go unnoticed, and to your utter indignation, he started to chuckle. “Absolutely fuckin’ not, Clover. Patience.”

“Ugh.”

Your next attempt was when lunch time came around. 

The dogs barked and yipped their happiness for getting their snow-covered paws on a snack when you walked past the window — their tails brushed against the snow on the windowsill, and it made a puff of white to cover their rear ends. “Oh, you idiots,” you laughed as you neared the closed front door.

The hinges traitorously creaked as you pushed it open to lean out a little — just a little, when Bucky’s voice boomed from the other side of the cabin, making you jump in fright. “Hey! Get your cute butt back inside!”

“Ugh,” you groaned. Almost had it.

The sound of Bucky’s boots crunching over the snow outside later that afternoon made you rejoice — he must have finished, and you looked up from the book you were reading towards the window. Only, Bucky was walking towards it with his ladder under his arm, and the coat he wore bulging around his middle; a poor attempt at concealing something. “What the…”

Sarge and Koda bounded around his feet while he walked, and you could just feel the frustration in Bucky’s posture, and the sound of his grumblings. “No– Get out of the damned way, girl. Sarge, heel!”

The ladder landed on the snow-strewn ground with a metallic clang, and Bucky’s eyes met yours. He froze. 

“Hey,” you said, blinking at him. 

Bucky blinked back, and then he narrowed his eyes. “Go back to your book—no peekin’.”

You sighed, rolled your eyes, and looked back down at your book. From the corner of your eye, if you only peeked, you could watch Bucky’s boots climb up the ladder, the outer sole of the thick, winter-built shoes covered in a layer of sticky snow. 

Koda and Sarge’s faces peered in through the window, and when they saw you, their tongues lolled out of their mouths in unison; the cutest smiles you had ever seen. “Hey, cuties,” you mouthed, and you blew them a kiss each before you hastily looked down at your book before Bucky could see that your focus was elsewhere. 

Time seemed to crawl by, minute by minute stretching further and further, almost impossibly so, when a sudden tap on the window made you jump in fright. “Ah!”

Bucky started to laugh, and he shook his head. “I’m done, you can come out now.”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes this time. “And what makes you think I will? After sitting here, waiting forever–”

“Just get your butt out here,” he said, gesturing you over. “C’mon, I wanna show you this.”

You huffed and stood from your cosy blanket hub on the couch. “Fine.” The wooden floors creaked as you padded towards the front door. “‘Wanna show you this’ he says, well–”

“I can hear you, y’know.” Bucky opened the front door, a brow raised in question. Instead of grilling you further, he reached out a gloved hand. “Now, c’mon, I know I’ve made you wait long enough—I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t have to. I wanted to surprise you.”

Without hesitation you held Bucky’s offered hand, but you pouted at him. “I’ve been on my own all day.”

“Don’t go makin’ me feel worse, sweetheart,” Bucky said. The soft brush of his lips on your cheek made you giggle, and he pulled away to walk you out the door. “But I’ll make it up to you; promise I will.”

You followed Bucky out of the front door and out into the snow — where Sarge and Koda frolicked about happily, their tails wagging a mile an hour as they played. “They weren’t no damn help,” Bucky grumbled, rolling his eyes. The exasperated sigh that fell from his lips made a cloud of mist bloom against the darkening sky. “But they did help me pick the colours for you.”

“What do you mean–?”

Bucky grinned, his eyes scrunching at the edges with the brightness of his smile. “Well, bunny, I know how much you been lookin’ on that site, on your phone—Pinterest, I think it was.” 

“Oh, boy,” you said, and it dawned on you. Not even a week ago, you had excitedly run to Bucky while he was lounging in the living room, giddy with the rush of finding the cutest Christmas light set up for a cabin — almost identical to the one you lived in with him. “Okay…?”

“And it got me thinkin’–”

Without missing a beat, you interrupted him with, “That’s dangerous.”

“Shut up.” The two of you burst into laughter, leaning on one another for support. “Okay, okay—as I was sayin’, it got me thinkin’–”

Unable to help yourself, all while forcing the laughter back down into your chest, you raised your hand up to Bucky’s forehead. His brows furrowed in confusion when the back of your hand made contact with his skin, and you said, “Oh, you poor thing!”

“For fucks sake,” Bucky howled, and he bent over double wheezing with his laugh. The clouds of mist swirled while he coughed. “Clover! Please–”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you rushed. The hiccupped laughter wracked your chest, and you took a second to breathe. “Okay. Okay, as you were saying?”

It took a moment for Bucky to catch his own breath, but finally, he stood up straight, then cleared his throat. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re too sassy for your own damned good.”

“You love it.”

“Yes,” he quickly agreed. “But I was lookin’ up those ideas you found; low and behold, it turned out I could pull at least one of ‘em off. So…” A remote, no bigger than your hand, was pulled from his coat pocket. It appeared innocuous, but you still tilted your head at it, confused and intrigued. “C’mere, and look at the cabin.” 

Bucky pulled you into his side, and you faced the cabin — overwhelmed with apprehension. “What–?” 

A click sounded, and the world came alight. 

The cabin, while beautiful before, was otherworldly now — lights of a bright, crystal white and a deep, velvety green shone and glowed along the window ledges. There were rainbows of colours in the trees: pinks, yellows, greens, and blues, bright against the white of the snow. 

The breath in your chest hitched and stuttered, taking the ability to form words with it. 

“Oh,” you finally managed, breathily and trembling. Bucky’s hand rubbed up and down your shoulder, the warmth of his touch bringing you back down to earth and to the haven before you. “Oh, it’s beautiful.”

“Only the best for my girl,” Bucky said quietly. “Happy Christmas, Clover.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[swiftieblyth]

Troublesome Twin

Part 4- Ideas

Warning list-

hunger games warning, abusive family, mother died in childbirth with the twins, Arachne, Coriolanus Snow, Dr. Gaul, violence, and murder.

I think that’s all, let me know if there’s more!

Word count- 1,062

Y/N held Coryo’s hand as they  walked into their chattering class, trying to ignore the glare from her sister, as they went to their seats.

“Your little excursion was in violation of about five different Academy rules, Mr. Snow, Miss. Crane.” Dean explained. “Chief amongst them, endangering a Capital student.”

“What? Who?” Coryo asked.

“Your little pet, Coryo,” Arachne let out.

“You, and Miss. Crane, Mr. Snow.” Dean called. “I’m moving for the Gamemakers to disqualify you both as mentors immediately.”

“You said we had to get out tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away,” Coryo retorted.

“I’ll add insubordination as well.”

“Holding her hand, Coryo,” Arachne cut in. “Introducing her to people, you make it look as if you and Y/N are one and the same as those animals. Although, Y/N might be.”

“Don’t,” Y/N whispered, holding Coryo back. 

“Coriolanus didn’t show those people anything they didn't already know.” Sejanus called.

“I don’t need your help, Sejanus.”

“That the tributes are human beings.” Y/N cut in. “Just like us. That’s why nobody wants to watch the games. It’s because people know deep down that winning a war 10 years ago doesn’t justify starving people’s children, taking away their freedoms, their rights.” Y/N was cut off with a laugh.

“Snow and Crane fell down in the cage…” Dr. Gaul taunted, walking in with a smile on her face. “It fell down in the cage but it landed…”

“On stage,” Coryo and Y/N let out at the same time.

“You’re both good at games. Maybe one day, you’ll both be a Gamemaker, like me.”

“If the Games continue at all.”

“Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Mr. Snow’s and Miss. Crane’s in the zoo. And I came here to ask your star mentors a question. “What are the Hunger Games for?”

“To punish the districts for their uprising, to commemorate the end of the war.” Coryo explained.

“To get revenge on the lives the capital lost,” Y/N cut in. 

“‘Commemorate the…’” Dr. Gaul started. “Dull. Dull. Dull. Punishment can take many different forms. Why not drop bombs, cancel food shipments, stage executions? Why Games?”

“Shouldn’t we be asking ourselves whether or not they’re right in the first place?” Sejanus cut in.

“You have a problem with my games?” Dr. Gaul asked.

“Some of those kids were two years old when the war ended. The oldest of them were only eight.”

“Sejanus?” Y/N warned in a whisper, glaring at him to stop.

“The Capital is supposed to be everyone’s government now,” Sejanus continued, ignoring Y/N. “It is supposed to protect all of us. I don’t see how making children fight each other to death is protecting anyone.”

“That sort of sympathy might interfere with your mentoring assignment.” Dr. Gaul stated.

“Perhaps the Capital students are ill-suited to be mentoring tributes.” the Dean cut in. “Perhaps the game's time has passed.”

“Dean Highbottom is wrong. My classmates too.” Coryo let out, making everyone look at him.

“Coryo?” Y/N whispered, clutching onto his hand. “What are you doing?”

“Trust me,” he whispered back, putting his free hand on hers. “Maybe Sejanus is onto something here. Maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings. I mean, you saw those kids in the zoo, they just… they just wanted to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch, we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the Games.”

“To make the stakes personal.” Y/N chimed in, understanding where her boyfriend is coming from. “Who will watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?”

“Everyone,” Coryo answered. “If they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance at winning. People need someone to root for.”

“And someone to root against.” Y/N finished. “We need them to invest.”

“And if we bend a few Capital laws,” Coryo cut back in. “We could even have them place bets. Look I, we know that Lucy Gray may not win in the arena, but if we give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth Prize that she can win people’s attention.”

“I’d like you two to write a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow, Miss. Crane.” Dr. Gaul smiled.

“Wait!” Clemmie called, standing up. “You mean you might actually use these ideas?”

“If it’ll help the ratings, why not?”

“Coriolanus and I are class partners, Dr. Gaul.” Clemmie stated. “We do all of our assignments together.”

“It’ll be an interesting test.” Dr. Gaul laughed.

Y/N and Coryo got their lunch, and went to sit. They found a table with three seats and sat on the side with two. Y/N started to eat when she noticed that Coryo was wrapping his up.

“Coryo,” Y/N let out. “Let me be the one to give them my food. Please.”

“Darling, you need to eat. Especially since you didn’t eat anything last night or this morning.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Love, you and I both know that’s not true. You need to eat, don’t think I didn’t notice you leaning on me more for support on the way here, or how pale your face is. Love, I’m not going to let you skip three meals in a row.”

“But Coryo-“

“No, let me do this, love, you eat.”

Y/N went to protest but was stopped by someone walking to the seat across from them.

“You trying to fatten that poor girl up so you can finally  start taking bets?” Sejanus asked, sitting down.

“You think they’ll give those kids a scrap if we don’t give them a reason to?” Coryo asked, while Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, taking small little nibbles at her food. “How do you think tribute will have a chance if he can’t eat?”

“He was my classmate. Back in 2.” Sejanus started. 

“It’s not your fault it’s him,” Y/N breathed.

“See, I know. I’m so blameless, I’m choking on it. My father bought him for me, you know, at the Reaping, just so he could show me that I could never go back to 2. But being Capital is gonna kill me.”

“So do something about it,” Coryo let out, wrapping an arm around Y/N.

“Quite the rebel.”

“Oh yeah. I’m bad news.” Coryo let out.

[luffyvace]

Rules/Guidelines for this acc

address me as:

brook (he’s so cool he’s so underrated)

please read my rules before requesting by the way!! just for no confusion but i’m a pretty open person :)

Requests: OPEN 💋

fandoms i write for:

-anime/manga fandoms only: demon slayer, my hero academia, one piece, hunter x hunter, bungo stray dogs, saiki k, mob psycho 100, Black Butler

(Fire force, Assassination Classroom, Ouran Highschool Host Club and God of High School will be added when I finish watching! <3)

donts:

-proship, character x oc, hate/judge me or others on this account, nsfw, homophobia, pregnant reader, racism, suicide, self harm, (heavy) angst, trans character (i only do original genders but character being queer/gay etc is just fine), holidays (i don’t celebrate any so i don’t feel comfortable writing for it), drinking or smoking (never done it so I don’t have any knowledge about it—plus I don’t feel comfortable with writing for it) etc the typical

do’s:

pretty much anything else, i’m pretty accepting: fluff, sfw, platonic, romantic, character x matchup, character x character if i like the ship (i don’t ship many tho), random/general headcanons, request as much as you want (don’t spam the same one tho), poc/black reader, male reader, amab/afab, trans reader, chubby reader, tall reader, short reader, glasses reader, character x reader similar to [character], fluff prompt hcs

who i mainly write for:

Luffy, ace, zoro, sanji, brook, robin, izuku, katsuki, aizawa, chrollo, feitan, kurapika, tanjiro, inosuke, rengoku, obanai, saiki k, atsushi nakajima, mob aka Shigeo Kaegayama, reigen, Ciel Phantomhive, Grell Sutcliff, Alois Trancy, Undertaker

Ideas of things to request me!:

I have a mini series called ‘character’s kisses’ where if you request for example: “Luffy’s kisses” I’ll do headcanons of his kisses and what I’d think they’d be like! :)

platonic/romantic hcs

general hcs

x ____ (unique type) reader

character x matchup!

Authors notes:

i don’t do many au’s unless i like them (I’d most likely do modern au’s or character survived au, Portgas D. Ace for example), same with ships. But don’t be afraid to req I might say no I might say yes

only fluff, adult or not there’s plenty of nsfw acc

i only do certain polys (but don’t be afraid to req one!)

there are some spoilers on this acc :P (I always put a warning, if it’s a big or small spoiler, and what part of the anime)

sfw only don’t req anything else i won’t do it

safe place for minors since this a sfw acc

for the record i will prioritize requests and random impulses to write something over the list i made so if you really wanna see something just ask me- don’t wait around idk how long it’ll take😭

don’t be afraid to req a character from a anime not listed here, i know way more anime’s than that, those i are just the characters i feel i’d write best for

don’t be afraid to req :)

how to get blocked:

don’t be a pain: again—judging me or others, anything in the donts, spamming (i ask of you, be patient when sending in a req, some days I simply don’t feel like writing and that’s okay, so again I ask you to accept this <3), etc

Masterlists:

Masterlist

Masterlist part 2

List of characters I want to write for eventually:

List of characters I want to write for eventually

uh yeah i think this is it for now

♡

©luffyvace 2024 do not steal, copy, plagerize, paste, repost on another platform, translate my work without permission or edit my work.

[olberic]

ranking anime i’ve watched in 2023:

as expected, here’s this year’s top 10 for how much i personally enjoyed the anime i’ve watched this year. ive watched more than this, but god i watched so many bad ones…. even number 10 sucks but everything else was worse. sad!

as always thank u gifmakers for ur service 🫡 the world would be nothing without u all

10. the legendary hero is dead! (2023)

dont watch this show. it sucks and its bad. hey. come here. hold my hand. now lets just watch and enjoy the OP ok? don't worry about the rest.

9. my daughter left the nest and returned as an s-rank adventurer (2023)

i have to admit this show charmed me. its not the best thing ive ever seen but its nice. comfy. yknow? i haven't finished it but it's enjoyable. can't rank it higher until i finish it

8. sabikui bisco (2022)

if it werent for the positively nonsensical jump in the middle of the show and the way theres just like. a lot of gaps? it’d rank higher. it’s a very cool premise for a show and i like the bisco/milo dynamic, and [SISTER] is fun as hell. it didnt wow me though overall, and while i enjoyed it i was hoping for more.

7. trigun stampede (2023)

im sorry trigun stans i simply didnt love it. i see the appeal i really do but it just didnt hook me. i really liked the animation and the storyline. im intrigued by whatever the fuck is going on with those plants and yall have said theres a tallgirl in the next season? so i’ll keep watching. i just didnt love it

6. that time i got reincarnated as a slime (2019-2021)

in contrast to #7, i can see why this show is weak HOWEVER i just enjoyed it. i like it. huge fan of how much gender the protag has. i love how they get new powers. i enjoy that it can be interpreted as an extremely bisexual show. it was well paced and the slime diaries OVA was a great addition. a lot of the characters really stuck with me too and its like. idk. one of my favourite isekais i guess

5. buddy daddies (2023)

this should rank higher. its so fun. its SO fun. its silly and it doesnt take itself seriously. i laughed in every episode. the dynamic between the guys is great. the dynamics between them and the kid is great. just a really solid show if you can stand the queerbaiting. i dont even care

4. bocchi the rock! (2022)

the bocchi side of tumblr is right this show rules. i like how real bocchi’s social anxiety feels (literally how it felt when i had it). the characters are entertaining, the show’s well done, they even have solid music (which band-based shows dont always do right!). its really funny and its really earnest and its a joy to watch

3. demon slayer: swordsmith village arc (2023)

i included the entertainment district arc in last year’s list so this arc makes the cut. im always late getting around to watch the new stuff and i dont want to read the manga but god DAMN does this show hit different. incredible fight scenes. i loved everything they did for the hashira backstories. i love whatever the fuck is up with genya. it even gave me some akaza to sustain me for the next year or whatever. ik this show gets overhyped but its normal hyped. to me.

2. frieren: beyond journey's end (2023)

oughhh frieren… ive only known this show for a few months but it means to much to me… i dont even wanna talk about it because its so good i just wanna watch it again. go watch frieren if you havent already its anime of the decade. to me

1. gundam: the witch from mercury (2022-2023)

ive never seen a gundam before but i will be watched them after this! what can be said about it that hasnt already been said on this site. the romance storyline is impeccable, the fights are awesome, the moral questions it posed were excellently covered. by the end of the first episode i was speechless. by the end of the last episode i'd cried like 4 times over the course of the show. this thing made me cry to happy birthday. what the fuck

[brucebocchi]

wrote something for facebook about my history with anime and journey towards born-again weebdom:

Something weird happened to me over the past year. Like a frog in a pot of increasingly hot water, I found myself way the hell into anime again, and at a level I don’t think I ever had been before.

Anime was always kind of in my periphery, especially with stuff like Pokémon, Dragon Ball Z, and Sailor Moon blowing up in this side of the world. I was a fan of all three as a kid, plus I’d watch the odd show on Toonami and Adult Swim here and there, but I didn’t consider myself much of an anime fan beyond that. Especially not in high school, and if you went to school with “Naruto kids” like I did, you can probably understand why. I didn’t really seek it out.

About 10 years ago I decided to finally see what this Neon Genesis Evangelion business was all about and it rearranged my brain. I had no clue something like that existed before I’d even heard of Pokemon. I had to see what else was out there that I missed. I caught up on shows like Gurren Lagann, Nichijou, and Madoka Magica, and even followed Kill la Kill and the first season of One Punch Man as they were airing. From there, though, I kind of petered out again. I’d watch the occasional Netflix drop here and there, catch up on Jojo, and rewatch the Evangelion movies like they were recurring holidays, but that was kinda it.

Around this time last year, though, I randomly remembered a show that I loved as a preteen, one that I was just as excited to watch alongside DBZ on weekdays after school: Tenchi Muyo. It didn’t really have the lasting impact the other Toonami shows did, but I loved it when it was on (and let’s be real, that many beautiful anime women jam-packed into the same show was something of an awakening for my pubescent self). I decided to seek it out and see if it held up, and it mostly did! I ended up watching most of the franchise, or at least the parts of it that actually involve the main cast.

From there, I found a video essay on YouTube about one of the Tenchi sub-series that absolutely hooked me, and I’d be happy to share it. Anime became something of a YouTube rabbit hole for me, and I was inundated with recommendations for shows I’d either heard about and missed or that left a mark I wasn’t even aware of. Then I decided to finally play Persona 5. Then I decided to see what this Chainsaw Man business was all about. And what else was airing that season. That snowball kept rolling.

By my count, I’ve watched some 38 discrete anime series in the past year and change (plus another three that I started and am in no hurry to finish), and I’ll gladly list them if asked. Granted, anime seasons are short and a handful of them are spinoffs, so the number’s not as crazy as it might look on its face. It’s still a lot, though, and I would actually recommend most of them! I definitely stuck to some niches; I’d say at least half were comedies and there was plenty of action-oriented stuff in there as well. But it’s been really incredible just seeing how far it can reach as a medium to depict just about anything the human brain can conjure up.

Anime fuckin’ rules, y’all.

[langevandreren]

Lokean Parable: Loki Ruins Everything (Voluspa, Rígsþula)

(First, a brief disclaimer about these stories)

One day, while Odin and Thor and Loki were out fishing and drinking mead, they met the first two humans, who were scrambling along the rocks gathering shellfish.

Odin called the two humans over, and named them Askr and Embla. He gave them fates, like the gods had, so that they might be part of the world but also able to alter it.

When he was done, he turned to Thor and Loki.

“They are different than the other animals now, and they will be able to interact with us more directly. You should each gift them things that will help them thrive.”

Thor considered it for a moment. “I give them courage so that they can protect each other, and the ability to inspire each other with their examples and their stories.”

Odin nodded approvingly. “That is good. The world is a hard place, and they will need those things.” Then he turned to Loki. “And you?”

“I’m going to make them both smoking hot.”

Odin’s brows furrowed. “What?”

Loki nodded and grinned. “Yeah. And they’re going to have orgasms when you touch them in the right places. Like Sif.”

“Dammit Loki.” Thor growled. “What have I told you about that.”

Loki stroked Thor’s bicep. “Relax. I’m not saying I don’t like you just as much. In fact, I was thinking that maybe you and Sif and I –”

“Loki!” Odin snapped. “Focus. And come up with a real gift, something practical.”

“Okay, okay, something practical. I’ll need to think about it and get back to you guys.” Loki said. “Anyway, all this talk reminds me that I have some unfinished business back in Asgard. No need for you two to hurry back though.” And with that, Loki was gone.

“I’m sure they’ll think of something,” Thor said, “they usually do.”

Odin sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Later, Odin and Heimdall were watching the humans as they hunted and ate and fucked and slept and lived and died.

“That’s all they do?” Heimdall asked.

Odin nodded. “Kind of disappointing, isn’t it?”

“It is. I think I have a solution though.”

So Heimdall went among the humans. He took the poorest and taught them how to bear the burden of manual labor, day in and day out. He taught the thralls to be grateful for what they had and to always obey their betters and to accept their lot in life.

Then Heimdall made the more skilled humans into crafters and farmers. He taught them how to raise livestock and till the land. He showed them how to make clothes from plant fibers, and how to store food so that they might harvest more than they needed to eat and be able to provide for their lords.

Finally, Heimdall chose the strongest and the wealthiest among the humans to be Jarls. He showed them how to command their lesser kin, and gave them the will to accumulate power and the means to make war.

As he was finishing up, he noticed Loki watching him.

“You gave them servitude and exploitation as gifts?”

“I gave them order and a sense of purpose and place.” Heimdall said. “I do not expect you to understand. Stand aside, I must return to my duty.”

“Yea, sure. No problem.” Loki said, and then settled down to watch the humans for a long time after Heimdall had gone. Sure enough, the thralls seemed perfectly content to live out their short brutal lives as work animals. The farmers and craftsfolk willingly gave their possessions to the Jarls who ruled them. In turn, the Jarls raised up armies and sent them against each other to kill and to die for each lord’s benefit.

With each generation, Loki became more and more incredulous. Eventually, he decided he had seen enough. He gave his gift to humanity and went back to Asgard.

Some time later, Heimdall went to look for Odin. He found him drinking with Thor and Loki.

“Something is wrong with the humans.”

Odin frowned. “Really? The hall of the dead has been as full as ever. What is the problem?”

"It is madness down there. Thralls rising up and killing their masters. Farmers and craftsfolk amassing the wealth that should rightfully belong to their lords. Soldiers refusing their own deaths in battle. The humans are tearing apart the order that I created for them.”

Odin nodded, his face grave. “That is odd. Do you know what has gone wrong?”

“Not what. Who.” Heimdall said. “Loki has ruined the humans, as he ruins everything.”

“Loki, is this true? Are you responsible for this?”

Loki shrugged. “I gave them my gift, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“And what, exactly, was that?” Heimdall asked.

“Disobedience.”

The other three gods all looked at Loki for a long moment. Heimdall’s eyes were wide with rage. “You gave them disobedience?”

Loki nodded. “Yeah. I gave them the ability to decide what they wanted to do, and to do that rather than what they were told. I also gave them dissatisfaction and restlessness so that they wouldn’t be content with lives of toil and monotony.”

Heimdall learned forward and leveled his finger at Loki. “You cannot do that. I created their civilization. It belongs to me, to direct as I see fit.”

“Not anymore.” Loki said. “Now it belongs to them.”

[smallestapplin]

I don't know if this was already requested before but could I request pre-estsblished relationship, submas twins(separately). Reader calls them daddy for the first time. Can be sexual or not sexual but I had a feeling are top dom Emmett will take it that way. XD

- Meli anon

At first I was like ‘what? No! That’s against rules!’ Then I remembered me and my dumbass friends belting out loud fake moans of the most cursed shit at each other…so yes you may. I did use a meme as inspiration tho.

🔞18+Only!🔞

-

-

-

🔲Ingo🔲

- being best friends with your crush is amazing and painful.

- Even more so when you are as close as you and Ingo are.

- You relax the older twin, you bring joy to his life and help him be a little more fun.

- While he is your rock, he helps keep you in check.

- Of course this doesn’t stop his love for you, he is just so scared about ruining your friendship and losing you forever. For now he is just content on having you as a friend.

“I don’t understand why you watch my matches online, you do know you can ask me and I’ll happily allow you in my train cart, right?”

You look up from your phone to your dear friend. His permanent frown seems to have deepened, ah that just won’t do.

You chuckle before saying in the deepest voice you could comically muster.

“I’m tryna see where I can call you daddy.”

You snort before doubling over laughing loudly at his stunned face.

Your laughter echoes in his home before falling somewhat silent, the only sound you make anyone just desperate gasps for air.

You’re laughing yourself to tears and you slowly slide off his couch.

He only stares at you, questioning everything, but he can’t help but feel a little flushed.

Ingo sighs loudly “I can’t believe I love you sometimes.”

He hears you take a deep breathe of air “you WHAT?”

You choke, trying to breathe and finish laughing at the same time.

Oh no.

-

🔳Emmet🔳

- oh the chaos you two bring.

- He adores you and whatever you say.

- No matter what! Emmet is a very sweet, affectionate man, even if he does have a crush on you that doesn’t free you from his hugs.

- Unlike his brother, you’re always welcomed on his train cart even if it’s just to keep him company.

- He offers everyday to take you to work with him, cause he gets so lonely! And it’s soooo boring waiting for challengers.

- This has led to trainers walking in on the funniest or dumbest conversations known to man.

- Today however is different.

“I’m verrry tired of people saying something about my monotoned voice, like I’m sooo sorry I can’t sound like your anime waifu!”

You snort at Emmet’s rant.

“Sorry I can’t ‘homph’ while eating.”

You’re cackling at his poor attempts to mimic the sound, this bit was too good to pass up.

“They just want you to coo at them with some emotions Em!”

Emmet rolls his eyes and huffs into a pout.

You take a dramatic pose on the subway seats.

“Oh daddy Emmet won’t you please call me oh so sweetly your good darling!” You finish saying as you lay across the seats in a relaxed ‘draw me like one of your Kalos girls’ pose.

Completely missing how he perks up at the new title.

“Oh?”

You hum and look at him, your expression morphs into confusion at Emmet’s own expression.

While true he’s an expressive man, he has a light blush dusted across his cheeks, his breathing seems to be uneven, his smile looks crooked, along with him looking like he’s fighting drool.

“Uh…Em?”

“H-huh? Oh! Right, I am sorry! Anyways!”

He speeds right passed your suspicious look and rambling about something.

You wonder what’s up with your friend.

You don’t need to know he’s thinking about taking you on those subway seats and fill you with his undying love.

[winterchimez]

tag game! 🎮

tagged by: @zzoguri (thank you my sweetest moni <33)

rules: post snippets from 3 wips and 3 published fics

published fics 📖

beast in the beauty (s1 - old tales, new beginnings)

aaahhh my very first baby that i love dearly and will forever have a special place in my heart 🥹🥹 it is also thanks to you guys that this has now turned into a full-fledged ot11 series 🫶🏻 i will forever love the dynamic between eric & y/n in this, and i def miss writing this season loads (yall istg i cried writing the final few chapters like omg she’s done 😭😭😭) but yes, i love crime and i will def continue to write more of this genre in my future fics 😉

lip sync (ji changmin)

this was written based on their jp track lip sync and lol i wrote this on impulse and didn’t think much of it, until yall reassured that it was good from all the feedback ive gotten abt this 🥹 so yes now its one of the oneshots that i’ll forever be proud off 🤧

criminal (lee juyeon)

by far MY ABSOLUTE FAV oneshot ive ever written, and it is all thanks to my love @cloverdaisies for requesting this 🥹🥹🥹 immediately when you sent in the prompts i knew, i had to deliver a criminal juyeon fic for you and im so so glad this was well-received too 😭🫶🏻 fear not folks, i will eventually write a pt2 for this 👀

now, hohoho moving onto the fun part, my wips ✨

[untitled] (s2 - old tales, new beginnings)

lo and behold, a tiny weeny spoiler for s2 that is dropping real soon 👀 this 2nd season will be based on phantom of the opera so yall do expect more jaw dropping moments (i hope) & more drama bcs it’s gonna be a sangnew series ✨ (yes i have yet to figure of the title just yet but i will in time when its out 😭) tagging my biggest chanhee lover @heemingyu 👀

catch me if you can (lee juyeon)

okay so this was originally written for @cloverdaisies birthday but then irl stuff happened and i got sick so i couldn’t finish it on time 😭😭😭 but i will eventually get this out one day for you my love bcs I FREAKING LOVE THIS FIC. yall this is a yuukoku no moriarty au so if you ever read the manga/watch the anime YOU AND I NEED TO BE FRIENDS RN.

after midnight (sunkyu series)

so this was inspired by the weeknd’s moth to a flame and yes. it’s a nightclub au, it’s pretty suggestive, and it’s otome so you gotta pick if you want sunwoo’s or changmin’s route as the story progresses. it’s been a while since i’ve touched this so im presenting the best/spiciest part i have so far lmao 🤪 tagging @sungbeam for this cs i think ive never shown you this wip of mine 🤡 (or maybe i have ive forgotten)

tagging: @cloverdaisies @cupidjyu @heemingyu @juyeonszn @hongyangi @daisyvisions @hanniluvi @littleroaes