#countdown to chris-mas

[buckets-and-trees]

So Black the Darkness Hums

Characters/Pairings: Viking King Steve Rogers x curvy Female!Reader, unnamed husband of reader Word Count: 9.1k Summary: Your wedding day is destroyed when your village is raided by the vicious king Steven and his viking warriors. He will lay claim to all he wants, including you.

Content/Warnings: DARK, invoking prima nocta, non-consent/rape, stealing of virginity, explicit smut (oral - male and female receiving, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, anal fingering, anal intercourse, breastplay, overstimulation, orgasm denial, forced orgasms), use of pet name (little bride), dacryphilia, innocence kink, implied breeding kink, exhibitionism, human tribute/trade

Notes: I was struck by the idea of a very mean viking Steve last Thursday, and he would not let me go. Thanks to the encouragements from @biteofcherry, @witchywithwhiskey, and @vonalyn. An unapologetically brutal offering for the ninth week of Chris-mas.

Additional Note: I've gone with the term magnate over chieftan per this source.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You had already made a long walk, dressed in white, towards a man today. But where this morning you had walked happily in the sunlight to your betrothed - the eldest son of the village magnate - now you walk over the flagstones of the village hall to the seat typically occupied by the magnate.

A seat now filled by the brutal and terrifying Steven - warrior and king of an army which had landed on the shores of your village to raid and conquer today.

And conquer they had.

Your white dress, once pristine and flowing, now clings to your skin, damp with sweat and streaked with dirt and leaves. The veil that had adorned your hair this morning lies discarded somewhere in the forest, torn away by grasping branches as you fled.

The memory of your desperate flight from your wedding into the woods plays in your mind like a fevered dream. The screams of the villagers, the clash of steel, the acrid smell of smoke as buildings burned – all of it had driven you and a group of women and children to seek refuge among the ancient oaks. The forest, usually a place of comfort and familiarity, became a labyrinth of terror as you led the group deeper and deeper, branches scratching at your arms and face, tearing at the delicate fabric of your gown. The sounds of pursuit never seemed to fade, no matter how far you ran.

As dusk fell, you huddled together, exhausted, praying to gods old and new that you would not be found. But the gods were silent, and the crunch of heavy boots on fallen leaves had filled their absence. You were all discovered, bound and forced back.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you approach the throne, each step echoing in the cavernous hall. The white gown that once symbolized joy now feels like a shroud.

The smell of blood and sweat permeates the room, a stark contrast to the polished wood and fine tapestries of the hall.

Steven's piercing eyes lock onto yours, a predatory gleam reflecting in their depths like shards of ice. His massive frame dwarfs the ornate chair, his battle-scarred hands gripping the armrests with a strength that could crush them at any moment. A round, wooden shield leans against the side of the throne. He looks both handsome and terrifying, his rugged features perfectly fitting for a fierce Viking warrior king. The intensity in his gaze sends shivers down your spine, making you wonder if he is capable of unspeakable violence or if it is all just an act to maintain his reputation as a fearsome leader. Either way, there is no denying the raw power emanating from him, and you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away from the captivating figure before you.

Your steps falter, but a rough shove from one of Steven's men propels you forward. You stumble, nearly falling at the conqueror's feet.

"So," Steven's voice booms, a mix of amusement and contempt, "you are the bride I've heard so much about."

His face is scarred, weathered by countless battles, but still impossibly handsome, and his eyes gleam with intelligence. You see something there – a flicker that suggests he is not just a brutal conqueror, but a man with depth and complexity.

Dangerous.

"I hear you were wedded to the fine magnate’s son," Steven continues, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "How fortunate that I arrived in time for the celebration."

Your throat constricts, choking back the bitter retort that threatens to escape. You force yourself to square your shoulders and hold his gaze, summoning every ounce of courage you possess.

Steven's eyes narrow as he studies you, his gaze raking over your disheveled form with predatory intensity. He leans forward, the worn leather of his armor creaking with the movement.

"Come closer, little bride," he beckons, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

Your feet feel leaden as you force yourself to take another step forward. You are by no means small, but he is so large in comparison that the term ‘little’ would apply to most who come into his presence. The flagstones beneath you are cold and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the soft grass you had walked upon just hours before, your heart full of hope and promise.

Steven's lips curl into a wolfish grin as you approach. "Tell me," he says, his voice deceptively casual, "were you to be a proper bride for your husband?"

The insinuation in his words is clear, and heat rises to your cheeks. You can feel the eyes of his men upon you, their gazes hungry and leering. You swallow hard, struggling to maintain your composure.

"I was to be a dutiful wife," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Steven's laughter booms through the hall, echoing off the stone walls. "'Dutiful,'" he repeats, mockery dripping from the word. "And what duties did you imagine, little bride? Mending his clothes? Warming his bed?"

Your fists clench at your sides, nails digging into your palms. The urge to lash out, to scream defiance in his face, is almost overwhelming. But you force yourself to remain still, knowing that any show of rebellion could mean death – not just for you, but for the other villagers as well.

"Whatever duties were required of me," you reply, striving to keep your voice steady.

Steven leans back in the chair. "Tell me, little bride, do you know what happens to dutiful wives when their husbands fall?"

Your stomach churns at his words, but you force yourself to stand tall. "I imagine they mourn," you reply, a hint of defiance creeping into your voice.

The warrior king's eyes flash dangerously. In one fluid motion, he rises from the chair, towering over you. His hand, calloused and rough, grasps your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

"Oh, he may have wished for death in battle, but he was merely conquered and imprisoned.”

There’s a small relief, but it’s fleeting as you know this is far from over.

“Dutiful wives plead and bargain what they can to spare their husbands an even crueler fate.”

You tremble with both fear and anger.

“And the bride of the magnate’s eldest son needs to bargain for far more than the fate of only one man.”

Your sink to your knees at Steven's words, now with the fate of your village laid at your hands. Your once-pristine dress pools around you like spilled milk over the cold flagstones. The stone bites into your skin, a sharp reminder of how far you've fallen in just one day.

Tears blur your vision as you look up at Steven, his massive form looming over you like a colossus. The firelight from nearby sconces casts dancing shadows across his face, making his scars seem to writhe like serpents.

"Please," you whisper, your voice cracking. "Spare them. Spare the village. We are simple folk, we have nothing to offer but our loyalty and our labor."

A low chuckle rumbles from Steven's chest. "Getting on your knees is a good start, little bride," he says, his voice low.

Your cheeks burn with humiliation at his words, but you force yourself to remain kneeling. The fate of your village, your family, your new husband – all of it rests on your shoulders now.

Steven circles you slowly, like a predator sizing up its prey. His heavy boots echo on the stone floor, each step sending a shiver down your spine. You can feel the eyes of his men upon you, their gazes a palpable weight.

"Loyalty and labor," Steven muses, coming to a stop before you. "Those are indeed valuable commodities. But I wonder, little bride, if you truly understand the depths of loyalty I require."

He crouches down, bringing his face level with yours. His breath is hot on your cheek as he speaks. "Your village will serve me, yes. But you... you will be the seal on our bargain. The trophy of my conquest."

Your heart stops.

“And to my earlier curiosity, I shall ask plainly and have you answer me in kind: are you a virgin bride? Untouched? Unsullied?”

You close your eyes and nod.

Any hope you had been harboring that your fate would not turn this way vanishes now.

“A king is entitled, if he so chooses, to invoke the rite of prima nocta.”

Your blood runs cold at Steven's words. Prima nocta - the right of the first night. An ancient, barbaric custom that you had only heard whispered about in hushed tones. Never did you imagine it would become your reality.

"No," you whisper, the word escaping your lips before you can stop it. You immediately regret it as Steven's eyes flash dangerously.

He grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his gaze. "No?" he growls. "You dare refuse me? Perhaps you need a reminder of your position."

With a snap of his fingers, two of his men drag in a bound figure, depositing him on his knees off to the side of the hall but in clear view. Your heart sinks as you recognize your new husband, his body littered with cuts and bruises.

"For every refusal, every act of defiance," Steven says coldly, "he will suffer. And not just him. Your family, your friends, you are all of you conquered and my men can hunt through this village to pull any one of them here if it serves me.”

Your eyes well with tears because you do not doubt his resolve.

“You will spare them if I give you my maidenhood?”

He straightens back up to his full height. “I think I could spare your village for at least one night.”

Steven turns to his men, waving a dismissive hand. "Leave us," he commands, his voice echoing through the hall. "But the husband stays. He will bear witness."

The soldiers file out, swiftly acquiescing to their king’s request. The heavy doors slam shut behind them, the sound reverberating through your bones. Now it is only the three of you - conqueror, conquered, and the terrified bride between.

Steven's fingers tangle in your hair, forcing your head back. His other hand works at the fastenings of his breeches. "Show me how dutiful you can be, little bride," he growls.

Steven towers over you, his massive frame blocking out the flickering light from the nearby torches. You can smell the leather of his armor, the tang of sweat and metal that clings to his skin.

Your eyes flicker to your husband, but he refuses to look at you, apparently unwilling to watch. You would not have him suffer, but his refusal to even look your way hurts. You held no silly romantic notions for the eldest son of the magnate, but he was a fine man, good, you had been happy to make a match with him, and you thought there was a growing affection between you.

“Do not look at him, little bride,” Steven growls, impatiently shaking you by the hair. “Why are you looking at him? Look at me. He can not help you.”

You force your gaze back to Steven, your heart pounding. His eyes bore into yours, dark with desire and cruel triumph. You swallow hard, trying to find your voice.

"I... I don't know what to do," you whisper, heat flaming your cheeks. It's true - you are a virgin, after all, and the mechanics of what he expects are foreign to you.

Steven's laugh is low and mocking. "Oh, little bride," he says, his voice a rumble. "I'll teach you everything you need to know."

His hand leaves your hair, moving to cup your face. His thumb traces your lower lip, rough and calloused. "Open," he commands.

You hesitate, your eyes darting once more to your husband. This time, his gaze meets yours, and you see the resentment burning in them. It wounds you more than anything this cruel conquering king has done to you so far.

Steeling yourself, you look back up at Steven and part your lips.

His thumb pushes into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. "Suck," he commands.

With trembling lips, you obey, closing your mouth around his thick digit. The taste of salt and leather fills your senses as you tentatively suck on his thumb. Steven's eyes darken with lust, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his free hand working at the laces of his breeches. "That's it, use your tongue."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you obey, swirling your tongue around his digit, your cheeks burning with shame. You try to focus solely on the task at hand, to forget where you are and what's happening. But the sound of your husband's labored breathing, the cold stone beneath your knees, the looming presence of Steven above you – it all serves as a stark reminder of your situation.

The sound of fabric rustling makes your stomach clench.

Steven withdraws his thumb, replacing it with two fingers. They press deeper into your mouth, nearly making you gag. "Breathe through your nose," he instructs. "You'll need to learn this."

Your heart races as you struggle to follow his command, fighting against your gag reflex as his fingers probe deeper. The taste of salt and leather is overwhelming, and you can feel saliva gathering at the corners of your mouth.

"Open your eyes," Steven growls. "I want you to see everything."

Reluctantly, you obey, your gaze meeting his. His eyes are dark with lust, a predatory gleam that makes you shiver. With his free hand, he finishes unlacing his breeches, pushing them down just enough to free himself.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him, fully aroused and intimidatingly large. A whimper escapes you around his fingers, and he smirks.

"Don't worry, you'll learn to take all of me in time."

Steven withdraws his fingers from your mouth, leaving you gasping. His hand moves to grip your hair again, tilting your head back as he positions himself before you.

"Open wide, little bride," he commands, his voice husky with desire.

You hesitate, your heart pounding in your chest. The reality of what's about to happen crashes over you like a wave. But then you hear a pained grunt from your husband, and you know you have no choice. Closing your eyes, you part your lips.

Steven wastes no time, pushing himself into your mouth with a groan of satisfaction. The taste is foreign, salty and musky, and you struggle not to gag as he fills your mouth.

"Use your tongue," he instructs, his hand tightening in your hair. "And mind your teeth."

Tears stream down your face as you try to obey, running your tongue along the length of him. Your whole body trembles with fear and revulsion, but his grip on your hair is unrelenting. He thrusts in and out of your mouth, setting a brutal pace that makes you gag and gasp for air.

"You're doing well, my little bride," Steven grunts, his voice thick with lust. "Just relax and take it all in."

You try to comply, but it's a struggle. Your eyes are dripping with tears, overwhelmed from the force of his movements, and you feel like you're choking on him. But you know you have no choice but to endure it or risk angering him further.

As he continues to use your mouth for his pleasure, you feel a sense of detachment wash over you. It's like watching yourself from a distance, your body merely a tool for his satisfaction. You can't believe this is happening – this reality had never even haunted your nightmares.

A sharp pain shoots through your scalp as Steven tugs harder on your hair, pulling your head back even further. You whimper at the sting, struggling against the urge to cry out.

"You make such beautiful noises," he growls. "But I want more from you."

With that, he starts thrusting deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat each time. You choke and gag around him, tears flowing freely down your cheeks now.

But then something changes – he starts moving faster and faster until suddenly he stills inside you with a groan of release. Your mouth is flooded with his release, and you swallow what you can, tasting him on your tongue as he pulls out of your mouth, leaving it feeling raw and sore. A mess of tears, his cum, and your drool drip down your chin and neck as you gasp for air.

Steven's thumb roughly grazes down your cheek, a false gesture of affection. Then he speaks, his eyes moving from you to your husband. "Such a pretty thing," he purrs. "Isn't she?" the question - a taunt - directed at your husband.

He shifts uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with both of you. Steven's laughter fills the room as he continues, "They say you are a noble and good man, always treating her right. I bet you would never have asked her to do anything so degrading, may have waited months or years before coaxing her to suck your cock."

You don’t even know how to process what he is saying and how the other man is reacting - or not reacting - to Steve’s words.

“You would never use her.”

Steven’s focus shifts fully back to you.

“But I will.”

A whimper escapes your chest as he roughly grabs your chin.

“I will ruin you and wreck you for my pleasure, and he does not get to see what I will do to you next.”

The other man makes a strangled sound, finally trying to fight his bonds.

Steven laughs darkly. “It may have tortured you to watch,” he says, and then leans down and scoops you up from the floor and into his arms - bridal style to drive the point of his dominance and the humiliation of your special day home, “but not knowing what I do to your bride next will eat you alive for the rest of your days.”

As Steven carries you from the hall, your world becomes a blur of sensations and emotions. The warmth of his body contrasts sharply with the cold dread settling in your stomach. His arms, corded with muscle, hold you firmly against his broad chest, and you wrap your arms around his neck for steadiness as he moves so swiftly. The scent of leather, sweat, and something distinctly male envelops you in such close proximity, making your head spin.

As he carries you from the great hall, you find yourself unable to look away from his face. The flickering torchlight casts deep shadows across his features, accentuating the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the curve of his jaw. His eyes, when they meet yours, are dark and cold like the sea in a storm, and it chills your bones. He leans down and steals a fast, ruthless kiss, nipping at your bottom lip, and you look away when he ends it, uncomfortable with the sensation it stirs in your belly.

The corridors of the village hall, once so familiar, now seem alien and menacing. Shadows dance on the walls, cast by flickering torches, creating grotesque shapes that mirror the turmoil in your mind. The stone beneath Steven's feet echoes with each step, a rhythm that matches the frantic beating of your heart.

You pass tapestries depicting scenes from your village's history - harvests, celebrations, battles long past. They mock you now, reminders of a life that seems to have ended mere hours ago.

As Steven carries you further into the depths of the hall, the familiar corridors give way to parts of the building you've never seen before. The air grows cooler, damper, and you shiver involuntarily against his chest. He notices, a cruel smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Cold, little bride?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't worry, I'll warm you up soon enough."

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out his words, to pretend this isn't happening. But the solid warmth of his body against yours, the strength in his arms as he carries you, makes denial impossible.

Finally, Steven comes to a stop before a heavy wooden door. With one hand still supporting you, he reaches out and pushes it open. The hinges creak ominously, and your heart rate spikes as he carries you across the threshold.

The room is dimly lit by a few sputtering candles, casting long shadows across the stone walls. In the center stands a large bed, draped in furs and silks - a stark contrast to the simple furnishings you're accustomed to. You see the ceremonial bridal lace, embroidered with the flower of the magnate’s clan, laying atop the other furs and silks and realize this was the bedchamber intended for you and your husband. The irony is not lost on you - this room, where you should have spent your wedding night and started your new life with your new husband, will now be the site of your defilement.

Steven tosses you onto the bed unceremoniously, and you land with a gasp, your white dress billowing around you.

Steven looms over you, his massive frame blocking out the dim candlelight. His eyes rove over your body hungrily, and you feel exposed despite still being fully clothed. You try to curl in on yourself, to shield your body from his gaze, but he tsks disapprovingly.

"Now, now, little bride," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "don't hide from me. I want to see all of you."

His hands move to the laces of your dress, and you flinch away instinctively. Steven's eyes narrow, and he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with one large hand. With his other hand, he reaches for a knife at his hip, brings it up to the neckline of your dress, positioning the cool blade between your skin and the fabric and pulls down swiftly, tearing your dress down the middle. He releases your hands so he can use both of his to finish ripping away your clothing, throwing it to the floor. Your attempts to fight him are easily shunted, and once you’re naked, he presses you back down to the bed, holding the blade of the knife cruelly to your neck, just below your jaw.

“Do not think I will maintain much patience. I will not hesitate to punish if you continue to resist,” he promises. “Understand?”

“Yes,” you whisper, a tear escaping and rolling slowly down your cheek.

“Good," he says, his voice low and husky, "it's time to consummate the arrangement you agreed to fulfill."

He moves away, positioning himself next to the bed. His hands move to the fastenings of his leather armor, slowly removing each piece, then his shirt. The firelight gleams off his muscled torso as it's revealed, highlighting scars that tell tales of countless battles. You can't help but stare, a mix of fear and unwanted fascination coursing through you.

Steven notices your gaze and smirks. "Like what you see?" he taunts.

You quickly avert your eyes.

Steven chuckles darkly. "Don't be shy now, little bride. You'll become very familiar with every inch of me soon enough."

He finishes undressing, his massive frame now fully revealed in the flickering candlelight. Despite your fear and revulsion, you can't help but notice the raw power of his body - all hard muscle and battle scars. He is undeniably handsome in a rugged, dangerous way that makes your heart race with a confusing mix of terror and unwanted attraction.

Steven climbs onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he looms over you. His hand trails down your body, callused fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. You shiver involuntarily, eyes closing.

"Open your eyes," he commands. "I want you to see everything I do to you."

Reluctantly, you obey, your gaze meeting his. His eyes are dark with lust, a predatory gleam that makes you shiver. He looms over you, his muscled body casting you in shadow.

"Please," you whisper, a final, desperate plea. "You don't have to do this."

Steven's hand cups your face. “But I want to,” he growls, “and I always take what I want.”

His lips crash down on yours, harsh and demanding. You whimper against his mouth, overwhelmed by his forcefulness. His tongue pushes past your lips, exploring every inch of your mouth as his hand slides down to grip your breast roughly.

You gasp at the sensation, your body betraying you as your nipple hardens under his touch. Steven chuckles against your lips.

"Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind resists," he murmurs, his thumb circling your nipple teasingly.

His hand continues its travels lower, skimming over your stomach before reaching the junction between your thighs. You try to squeeze your legs shut, but his knee wedges between them, forcing them apart and settling himself between them. His fingers find your most intimate place, and you jerk at the unfamiliar touch.

"So soft," he growls, his fingers exploring the apex between your thighs. "And already getting wet for me."

You flush with shame, hating your body's involuntary response, feeling things you’ve never felt before and with a cruel stranger instead of the man you had pledged yourself to, built a budding relationship and trust with through your courtship.

"So responsive," he murmurs against your lips. "And so tight. This will hurt, little bride, but I'll make it good for you too."

His fingers probe deeper, and you cry out at the intrusion. Steven's mouth moves to your neck, sucking and biting as his fingers work between your legs. You feel a building pressure, your body responding against your will to his ministrations.

"That's it," he murmurs against your skin. "Let yourself feel it."

Tears stream down your face as waves of unwanted pleasure course through you. Your hips buck involuntarily against his hand, seeking more of the sensation.

Steven chuckles darkly. "So eager now," he taunts. "Are you ready for me, little bride?"

Before you can respond, he positions himself at your entrance. You feel the blunt pressure of him against you, and panic rises in your chest.

"Wait," you gasp. "Please, I'm not-"

But Steven doesn't wait. With one powerful thrust, he sheathes himself inside you. The pain is sharp and immediate, tearing a cry from your throat. Steven groans in pleasure, his massive frame pinning you to the bed.

"So tight," he growls, his breath hot against your ear. "You feel even better than I imagined."

Tears stream down your face as he begins to move, each thrust sending waves of pain through your body. You turn your head away, unable to look at him, but his hand grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I told you to watch," he snarls. "I want to see the moment you break."

His pace increases, and you whimper with each brutal thrust. The pain begins to dull, replaced by a strange, burning sensation that spreads through your lower body. Your breath comes in short gasps, matching the rhythm of his movements.

You whimper beneath him, your body trembling with the shock of the intrusion. Steven's hand cups your face, his thumb wiping away a tear that has escaped down your cheek. The gesture is almost tender, a stark contrast to the brutality of his actions.

"Breathe," he commands softly. "The pain will pass."

You try to breathe more evenly, but it feels impossible as he maintains his brutal, relentless pace.

Your body feels torn between pain and an unfamiliar, building pleasure. You hate yourself for responding to his touch, for the way your hips begin to move in rhythm with his thrusts. Steven notices, a triumphant gleam in his eyes.

"There it is," he growls, his pace quickening. "Your body knows what it wants, even as you continue to deny it."

His hand snakes between your bodies, finding a sensitive bundle of nerves above where you're joined. You cry out as he begins to circle it with his thumb, waves of sensation crashing over you.

"Let go," Steven commands, his voice husky with exertion. "Come for me, little bride."

Your body obeys even as your mind recoils. The pressure builds and builds until it finally shatters, your back arching as you cry out. Steven groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he follows you over the edge, spilling himself deep inside you with a guttural moan.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is your mingled breathing. Steven's weight presses you into the mattress, his body slick with sweat. You lie there, trembling, tears streaming silently down your face as the reality of what just happened washes over you.

Steven lifts himself onto his elbows, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing away your tears. "You did well, little bride," he murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

The tenderness in his touch and his voice confuses you, but the moment passes because his eyes darken once more as he gazes down at you. "The night is far from over," he murmurs, his voice husky with renewed desire.

He shifts his massive body, moving downward until his face is level with your breasts. His rough hands cup the soft flesh, kneading and squeezing with a possessive grip that makes you gasp. You feel his hot breath against your skin, sending involuntary shivers through your body.

Steven's mouth descends on your left breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple before he takes it between his lips. He sucks hard, drawing a whimper from your throat. His teeth graze the sensitive bud, sending jolts of sensation through your body.

He alternates between your breasts, sucking and biting with increasing intensity. What starts as pleasure soon edges into discomfort, then pain. Your nipples, sensitive and swollen from his attention, ache as he continues his ministrations. You squirm beneath him, trying to escape the overwhelming sensations, but his body pins you firmly to the bed.

"Please," you gasp, "it's too much."

Steven lifts his head, his eyes dark with lust. "Nothing is too much for you, little bride," he growls. "You'll take everything I give you and beg for more."

His mouth returns to your breast, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. You cry out, tears springing to your eyes yet again. The pain mingles with a confusing undercurrent of pleasure, your body betraying you once again.

Steven's hand slides down your body, fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs again. He begins to stroke in slow, deliberate circles, and you feel yourself responding despite your best efforts to resist. You’re shocked at how your dripping hole is aching again already. These sensations are foreign to you and frightening to experience at his hand.

Steven's fingers move with expert precision, building a slow, inexorable tension in your core. His mouth continues its assault on your breasts, alternating between gentle sucks and sharp nips that send jolts of sensation through your body. The dual stimulation overwhelms your senses, leaving you gasping and writhing beneath him.

His fingers quicken their pace, circling your sensitive bud with increasing pressure. The tension coils tighter and tighter, a spring wound to the breaking point. Your hips begin to move of their own accord, chasing the building pleasure despite your mind's desperate attempts to resist.

Steven's mouth moves to your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "That's it," he growls, his voice low and husky.

Your body trembles on the edge of release, every muscle taut with anticipation. Just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, Steven suddenly withdraws his hand. You whimper at the loss, your body aching for completion. He lifts his head from your breast, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.

“I told you I would ruin you,” he murmurs, “and this is part of your ruining.”

Steven rolls onto his back, his massive frame sprawled across the bed. His eyes, dark with lust, lock onto yours as he beckons you with a crook of his finger. "Come here, little bride," he commands, his voice a low rumble. "I want to feel that pretty mouth on my cock again."

You hesitate, your body still trembling from the denied release. Steven's hand shoots out, gripping your hair and pulling you towards him. "I said, come here," he growls, his patience wearing thin.

Reluctantly, you crawl towards him, positioning yourself between his muscular thighs. His manhood lies semi-hard against his stomach, still glistening with the evidence of your earlier coupling. The sight and scent of it make your stomach churn with a mix of revulsion and unwanted arousal.

"Take me in your mouth," Steven orders, his hand still commanding the back of your head. “Show me what you’ve learned.”

Slowly, as if in a trance, you lower your trembling form towards his groin. You can't believe the turn of events that have brought you to this point – from a joyful bride to a conquered villager at the mercy of Steven and his ruthless warriors. The knowledge burns in your heart, but you force it down, focusing instead on surviving this nightmare.

As your lips touch the velvety head of his member, Steven emits a low groan of pleasure. His hand loosens its grip on your hair just enough to allow you some movement. Despite yourself, you remember the way he had thrust into your mouth earlier, how he had seemed to enjoy it when you'd used your tongue. Drawing on that brief flash of experience, you tentatively flick your tongue over his cock. The taste is overwhelming - a potent mixture of his earlier release, your own arousal, and the metallic tang of blood. It's a stark reminder of what's transpired, of your lost innocence.

Steven groans as you engulf him, his hips bucking slightly. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice husky with renewed desire. "Take it all in."

You struggle to accommodate his size, your jaw aching as you try to take more of him. His hand guides your movements, setting a steady rhythm as he uses your mouth. Your tongue teases across the sensitive underside of his shaft, encountering a vein that runs along its length, and you try to apply more pressure there. Steven groans in response, low and guttural, spurring you on.

"That's it, little bride," he grunts, the praise almost an animalistic growl. "Suck harder. Take more of me into that pretty mouth."

You struggle to obey, pushing yourself to take more of his length into your mouth. His hips begin to thrust upwards, forcing himself deeper. You choke and splutter around him, saliva dripping down your chin.

"Relax your throat," Steven commands, his voice strained with pleasure. "Breathe through your nose."

You try to follow his instructions, fighting against your gag reflex as he pushes deeper. Steven's hand tightens in your hair, guiding your movements more forcefully. "Look at me," he commands, his voice rough with desire.

You raise your eyes to meet his, your cheeks burning with shame as you continue to work your mouth over him. His gaze is dark and predatory, filled with a hunger that makes you shiver.

"Such a good little bride," he murmurs, his hips starting to thrust up to meet your mouth. "Taking my cock so well. But I think you can take more."

Without warning, he pushes your head down, forcing himself deeper into your throat. You gag and choke, face pushed flush to his pelvis. The taste and scent of him overwhelm your senses, throat struggling at his intrusion, and you feel lightheaded from the lack of air. Just when you think you can't take anymore, Steven pulls you off his cock with a wet pop.

Gasping for breath, you look up at him through tear-blurred eyes. His face is flushed with arousal, his eyes dark, but gleaming with… pride?

“You are such an exquisite, pliant thing,” he says. “It has been too long since I’ve been so well-pleased, so near insatiable.”

Your chest constricts at the praise. You did not want any of this nightmare, but his danger is novel and alluring, the unknown pleasures he’s exacting from your body, guiding you down paths you’ve never explored before - it’s all twisting your body and your very soul, seeping through your veins, a poison you can’t stop now that he’s pierced into you.

He sits up, frames your jaw in both of his calloused hands, and then lewdly licks one cheek and then the other, lapping at your tears. It’s not tender. He’s playing with his prey.

Steven's hands move to your shoulders, gripping them firmly. With a sudden, forceful movement, he flips you onto your stomach. You gasp at the abrupt change, your face pressed into the furs on the bed. His large hands grasp your hips, pulling them upwards as he pushes your upper body down, positioning you on your hands and knees before him.

"Spread your legs wider and present yourself to me," he commands, his voice husky with desire.

Trembling, you obey, pushing your knees out further, lowering your chest to the bed, and raising your hips higher. You feel completely exposed, a new kind of vulnerable in this position, and your cheeks burn with shame. The cool air of the room caresses your most intimate places, making you shiver.

Steven's large hands grip your hips, kneading the flesh of your buttocks, spreading them apart.

"Such a pretty sight," he murmurs.

His thumbs dig into the soft flesh of your buttocks as he spreads you open further. You tense, expecting the brutal intrusion of his manhood, but instead, you feel his beard brush against your most intimate flesh as he presses his mouth to your core. His tongue, hot and wet, slides up the cut of you, and you cry out in surprise. You had been told your husband would couple his manhood with your maidenhood. You had heard the lewd rumors of men using a woman’s mouth for his cock.

No one had ever whispered even a word that a man might put his own lips to your sex, and it’s an onslaught of pleasure you were in no way prepared to experience. The moan you let out is obscene and unrestrained, and you grasp helplessly at the blankets and furs beneath you.

Steven's tongue explores your folds with wicked precision, alternating between broad strokes and focused flicks against your most sensitive areas. Your body trembles uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the intense sensations. You try to stifle your moans, burying your face in the furs, but Steven's hand snakes up to grip your hair, yanking your head back.

"Let me hear you," he growls against your flesh. "I want to hear every sound you make."

His mouth returns to your core, his tongue delving deeper, tasting every inch of you. His beard scratches against your sensitive skin, adding another layer of sensation to the overwhelming pleasure. Your hips buck involuntarily, pressing back against his face as he continues his relentless assault. You feel his lips close around your sensitive bud, sucking hard, and a cry tears from your throat.

"That's it," Steven murmurs, his voice vibrating against your flesh. "Let go, little bride. Show me how well you enjoy being ruined by your new king.”

His words send a shiver through you, a mix of shame and unwanted arousal. Steven's tongue continues its relentless assault on your cunt, building a tension in your core that threatens to overwhelm you. Your body trembles, teetering on the edge of release.

His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as you writhe against him. The tension within you builds to an unbearable level, and with a final, targeted flick of his tongue, you shatter.

A cry tears from your throat as the waves of ecstasy wash over you. He laps up your juices eagerly, groaning in satisfaction, before he pulls away.

You whimper at the loss, and he chuckles. “Worry not, there is yet more pleasure I will force upon you this night,” he promises.

Before you can catch your breath, you feel the blunt head of his manhood pressing against your entrance. Steven guides the tip of his cock up and down your slit, over your oversensitive bundle of nerves, and you shiver. But it is soon evident he is in no hurry at this next pursuit.

Steven continues to tease you with the head of his cock, running it along your sensitive folds. Up and down, up and down. Slow strokes, sometimes bumping against your clit, sometimes ignoring it, unpredictable in the pattern so you don’t know when the surge will come. Your body trembles, overstimulated and overwhelmed. Despite your mind's protests, your hips shift back, seeking more contact, even though you're still sore from his earlier intrusion.

His fingers dip into your core, pulling from the wetness dripping out of you, and then he swipes them over your tight rosebud, and you gasp. You know immediately what he intends to do next, though you could never have imagined such a thing, and you can not process any sort of reaction against it. Indeed, he presses the tip of one of his fingers against the tight muscle, then insistently pushes through, and your heart pounds in your chest with fear. The foreign feeling is shocking.

Shocking because it should not feel as good as it does.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears of shame and frustration leaking from the corners.

He moves his finger in and out in only a very small motion - not fucking you with the finger, but pressing pleasure there in small, torturous amounts. He resumes the rutting of his cock against your folds, and you begin to openly weep, feeling wanton, confused, but moans accompany your sobs that you cannot hide from him.

He leans over you, his broad chest pressing against your back. His breath is hot against your ear as he speaks. "Eager for more, are we?" Steven chuckles darkly. "Beg for it, little bride. Beg for your king's cock."

You hesitate, torn between your body's desperate need for release and the last shreds of your dignity. Steven's free hand moves to circle around the front of your throat, possessive, threatening.

"Beg," he snarls.

The words stick in your throat, and Steven removes his finger from your tight hole and his hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp.

"I said beg," he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

"Please," you whimper, the word barely audible.

Another stinging slap lands on your other cheek. "Louder," Steven demands.

"Please!" you cry out, your voice breaking. "Please, I need... I need you.”

He slaps your ass again. “I want to hear you say it. Tell me exactly what you need."

You swallow hard. But you can’t deny betrayal of your body, aching for his touch, for the release only he can provide. "Please," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Please... fuck me. I need your cock inside me."

A growl of satisfaction rumbles through Steven's chest. "As you wish, little bride."

He shifts and begins thrusting his cock inside your cunt again.

Steven's cock enters you with a single, powerful thrust, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, a mixture of pain and pleasure that leaves you gasping. He sets a relentless pace, each thrust driving deep into your core, your body rocking forward with the force of his movements.

His hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to leave bruises. The room fills with the sounds of flesh meeting flesh, your breathless moans, and Steven's grunts of exertion. The musky scent of sweat and sex hangs heavy in the air.

"So tight," Steven growls, his voice strained with pleasure. "So perfect for your king, the perfect tribute."

You respond to his words, to his touch, clenching around him involuntarily. The friction of his cock against your walls sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, building a familiar tension in your core. He hits a particularly sensitive spot on the front of your walls that has you writhing in ecstasy, and he presses the head of his cock there over, and over. You're overwhelmed by the sensations, the fullness, the way he plays and experiments with your body, until you spasm, thrown over the edge into another orgasm.

Your body convulses as waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you weak and trembling. Your limbs feel heavy, your muscles liquid, as if all the strength has been drained from your body. You struggle to stay on your hands and knees, your arms shaking with the effort of supporting your weight.

Steven senses your weakness, feeling the way your body has gone limp beneath him. With a growl of satisfaction, he pushes you down flat against the mattress. The furs are soft against your oversensitive skin, tickling your nipples and sending shivers through your body. You turn your head to the side, gasping for air, feeling utterly spent.

Before your breathing can return to anything close to normal, before you can prepare yourself, Steven’s rough hands are spreading your cheeks, and he rams his cock into your ass. The intrusion rips a tortured scream from your throat.

The pain is sharp and immediate as Steven forces his cock into your tightest opening. Your body instinctively tenses, trying to reject the intrusion, which only intensifies the burning sensation. More tears spring to your eyes as you gasp for breath, though you don’t know how you still have more tears to shed.

"Relax," Steven growls, his voice strained with effort and pleasure. "The more you fight it, the more it will hurt, and I’m not going to stop."

You try to force your body to relax, to accept him, but it's a struggle against your instincts. Steven's hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he continues to move. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pain and an unfamiliar pleasure through your body.

"So tight," he groans, his pace increasing. "You feel incredible."

The friction is intense, unlike anything you've ever felt before. It's not quite pleasure, but it's no longer just pain. It burns, but the fire consumes your whole body. You feel stretched to your limit, filled completely by Steven's massive cock.

His hands roam over your body, rough and possessive, groping at your flesh. You bite your lip, trying to stifle your cries, but it's futile. Each thrust draws a whimper or moan from you, your body betraying your mind's resistance.

Steven's hand snakes around to the front of your body, his fingers finding your sensitive bud. He begins to stroke in time with his thrusts. The dual sensations of his thick cock stretching your ass and his skilled fingers on your clit create a maelstrom of sensation that threatens to overwhelm you completely.

You're only vaguely aware of the sounds escaping your throat - desperate, wanton moans that you scarcely recognize as your own. This may be the first night you lie with a man, but though you are inexperienced, you think it can not be possible to experience any more of the overwhelming pleasure he seems determined to rip from you yet again.

Your body trembles uncontrollably, caught between the pain of the intrusion and the impossible mounting of pleasure. Each thrust sends sparks of electricity coursing through your nerves, building the tension in your core. You've never experienced anything like this before - the intensity, the fullness, the way your body seems to betray you at every turn.

Steven's pace increases, his hips snapping against your ass with bruising force. His fingers match the rhythm, pressing harder, moving faster. You are hurled over another cliff of ecstasy, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps, body jerking futilely beneath his massive form. He pounds into you once, twice, thrice more, and on the fourth thrust, he shouts and stills, cock buried inside you, and groans as he empties his seed in your tightest channel.

Finally spent and satisfied, Steven collapses on top of you, his massive weight pressing you into the furs. You feel utterly crushed beneath him, struggling to draw breath, yet there's an undeniable warmth from his body enveloping yours that sneaks unwanted into your bones. His heart thunders against your back, matching the frantic pace of your own. The room is filled with the sound of your mingled panting as you both quest for normal breath.

The scent of sweat and sex hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the earthier smells of leather and furs. Your body thrums with residual pleasure, every nerve ending still singing from the intensity of your coupling. You feel utterly boneless, all strength drained from your limbs.

Slowly, your breathing begins to even out. You become acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - the rough hair on his chest against your back, the way his thighs press against the backs of your legs, his hot breath against your neck, and his lips too close to that tender and intimate space as only a beloved’s should be.

Finally, Steven rolls to the side and off of you, but you are not freed from him as he bands an arm around your waist, resettling you with him. He curls around you, and you resign yourself to being held captive, bound by his thick, corded muscles yet a while longer - possibly until the morning.

Just as you are about to drop off into sleep, he speaks directly into your ear. “I have claimed all of your holes, little bride. You will always know that I had every bit of you first, leaving him nothing.” The words are cruel, wicked, and his voice low and far too intimate.

You take a shaky breath in, and out, and beg for sleep to take you so you do not have to think of how his words haunt you now and will haunt you forever.

In the morning, your body still feels spent beyond its limits, aching, but as you shift and stir, you discover the bed is empty.

Your heart accelerates at this discovery.

Then plummets the next moment as the cruel conqueror speaks breaks the silence. “Get up and get dressed,” he commands from where he’s perched on the windowsill, watching the first light of morning appear.

Your eyes dart around the room, drawn to the scraps of your wedding clothes. “I’ve no clothes to-”

“On the chair over there,” he interrupts and gestures to a pile of clothing and shoes that have been brought in.

You slip out of the bed, trying to ignore thoughts of whether or not he watches you - he has already seen your naked form, so what does it matter?

There is a well-made linen chemise with a fine, blue linen dress to go over it. You hastily slip on the chemise, but as you reach for the dress, you hesitate. The detailing is finer than anything made in your village. This came from him.

“Shall I assist you?” Steven asks, making you jump as he’s silently crossed the room to stand directly behind you.

“No, I can dress myself,” you answer, but it falls on unhearing ears, as he’s already reaching past you for the garment.

He assists in pulling the dress over your head, and his hands roughly tug at the ties of your dress. Then he turns you to face him, and his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

"I've decided your husband will truly be left with nothing," he declares harshly. “After last night, I cannot abide him having you as his bride when clearly you should be mine. His father - the magnate - with the rest of the elders have accepted my bargain to take my men, leave your village, and never return on condition they surrender you to me as tribute.”

You cannot speak, the shock of Steven's words rendering you mute. Your mind reels, trying to process the implications of what he's just said. The village elders, including your own father-in-law, have agreed to trade you away like chattel to save themselves. The betrayal cuts deep, leaving you feeling hollow and abandoned, and yet you know it was likely a choice of little difficulty when weighing the safety of the village.

Steven cups your cheek again in that way that pretends a tenderness that is not there, and kisses you roughly. His lips are demanding, forceful, claiming you once more. The taste of him is now too familiar. His beard scratches against your skin, a sharp contrast to the softness of his lips.

His tongue pushes past your lips, exploring your mouth with a possessive fervor. Your body responds traitorously, a warmth blooming in your core despite everything, and you tangle a hand in his long hair.

Steven breaks the kiss, leaving you breathless and conflicted. His eyes roam over your face, taking in every detail as if committing it to memory.

"You are not why I came to these shores, but you are mine now," he says, his voice low and possessive. "My little bride, my tribute, my prize."

His words send a shiver down your spine - fear, anticipation, and something else you can't quite name. You know you should be horrified, should be fighting against this fate with every fiber of your being. But after the night you've shared, after experiencing all-consuming pleasures you never knew existed, a part of you - a part you're ashamed to acknowledge - is drawn to the thought of belonging to this powerful, dangerous conqueror.

Steven's hand moves to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place as he speaks. "We sail with the morning tide and leave within the hour. My men are already loading the ship with supplies - food, weapons, gold. And you, my little bride, are the most valuable cargo of all."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. The reality of your situation crashes over you anew - you're leaving behind everything you've ever known, everyone you've ever loved. Your family, your friends, the life you were meant to have - all of it gone in the span of a single day and night.

"Please," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Let me say goodbye to my family, to-"

"No," Steven cuts you off, his voice firm. "There will be no goodbyes. We leave now. I am your husband, your family. My lands will be your lands, and you will learn to forget. Perhaps all the sooner as you learn to crave the pleasures only I can give and ultimately grow with my child in your womb. Mine completely.”

so... if any of you are still alive, screech for help. I won't be able to help, because I have perished from writing this, but someone else might be able to assist you.

SEQUEL: CEREMONIAL RITUALS

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[jesevans]

I hope they’re always this happy

Mine For Christmas - Andy Barber x Reader

A/N: This one shot takes place in the same Universe as Wildest Dreams, Part 1 is here, and Part 2 here

This is also the final Christmassy Oneshot as I will be taking the Christmas period off starting tomorrow! See you all in the New Year!

Summary: With Andy now living alone as he goes through divorce proceedings, there’s only one person he wants to celebrate christmas with

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Language! Fluff! Tiny bit of Angst! SMUT! 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Masterlist

Office gossip was always the worst. You hated having to hear it, couldn’t people find other things to talk about than someone’s divorce? Yet all you ever heard was gossip about Andy’s divorce, but at least they didn’t know about you yet. Your secret arrangement with Andy remained a secret and would do until the divorce was finalised.

As he promised at the end of summer, Andy began the divorce proceedings against Laurie. He’d hoped that it would be simple enough, that Laurie would also know that the marriage was long dead. But he wasn’t so lucky, Laurie was dragging it out in any way possible. At least he’d been able to move out.

Maybe she thought dragging it out and making it impossible would make him stay. Thinking that a tough marriage with her was better than an impossible divorce. But she clearly didn’t know Andy well enough, because he was determined and loyal to you. He would jump through as many hoops as possible for you.

Keep reading

[ceyanabbiolo]

CONTRACT // C.S [14]

Summary: Christopher Sturniolo, a 26-year-old billionaire CEO, agrees to a strategic marriage with Aurora Devereaux, the 21-year-old daughter of his rival, to save his company during a crisis. Raised in a cold, arrogant environment, Chris is used to control and detachment. Aurora, a final-year fashion student, is forced into the arrangement by her powerful father and struggles with the fear of losing herself. As the two navigate their unexpected marriage, they begin to confront emotional walls and develop a connection that challenges everything they thought they knew about love and trust. But with their families’ influence looming, will their bond be strong enough to survive—or will it fall apart?

Warnings: smut. (fingering, blowjob, humping, making out). slight angst. crying.

wc: 5883

Chapter 14: We Can Meddle About

Chris and I had spent five unforgettable days in Greece. Tomorrow morning at 10 AM, we’ll be flying back.

New Year’s Eve was something out of a dream—we spent the countdown in Fira, the capital, surrounded by lights and music in the town square. Everything shimmered with celebration, but all I remembered was holding his hand as fireworks burst in the sky above us.

New Year’s Day was quieter. We stayed at the villa, curled up on the couch, watching movies, trading lazy kisses, and simply existing in each other’s warmth. I hadn’t felt that kind of peace in a long time. Not with everything going on.

For our final night, Chris had brought us to Lycabettus Restaurant. We sat on the open-air terrace, the Aegean Sea stretching into darkness just beyond the cliffs. The restaurant's golden lights cast a warm glow around us, and the soft sound of waves below filled the silence between bites.

I glanced across the table at him, that familiar, relaxed look on his face. “I don’t want to leave yet,” I admitted softly, resting my chin in my palm. “This trip felt like hitting pause on everything else.”

Chris let out a low chuckle from across the table. “As much as I hate to disappoint you, ma, I think it’s time we have to head back.”

“I know,” I sighed, offering a mock pout. “Real life’s waiting to punch us in the face.”

“Maybe…” I started, tracing the rim of my glass. “Maybe we can come back. Again. Just us.”

Chris’s fingers brushed mine again, slower this time. “Maybe… after the wedding,” he said, voice quiet but deliberate.

I blinked, looking up at him. “After the wedding?”

He held my gaze. “Yeah. Maybe we can come back then. No pressure”

“Chris,” I said, tilting my head at him. “That’s five months away.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah? So?” He leaned back, fingers still lightly tracing mine. “It’ll go by fast. You’ve got your show coming up, then school wraps up... and then it’s us.”

There was a strange comfort in how he said it—like everything that felt so uncertain could still fall into place. I let out a breath. “Five months isn’t that long when you say it like that.”

I wasn’t going to lie, I was everywhere in my mind. The reality of this trip was that it was only a momentary escape. 

I looked back up at Chris, a certain question floating in my mind—one I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to.

“Can I ask you something?” I said quietly.

He met my eyes, his expression softening. “Of course.”

I hesitated, chewing on the inside of my cheek. “I know we like each other now. I mean… we’re close, and it’s real, but—” I paused, searching his face. “Do you actually think this is going to work? Like… in the long run?”

His brows furrowed, clearly caught off guard. 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

I looked away, letting out a soft breath. “I mean, if this were a regular relationship-no, no contract, no engagement deal—would we even be this far in? We'd probably still be in the early stages. Figuring things out. Instead, we're getting married in five months. Sometimes I wonder if we skipped the part where people actually decide if they’re right for each other.”

Chris didn’t answer right away. His jaw tightened just slightly, and he leaned back in his chair, eyes flickering over me like he was trying to read between every word I’d just said.

“So… what are you saying?” he asked finally, voice low. “That you’re not happy? Do you want out?”

My heart sank a little. “No—no, Chris. That’s not what I’m saying.”

I reached across the table, my fingers brushing his. “I’m not saying I want out. I’m just being honest. I care about you. A lot. But sometimes I think about how fast all of this is moving. And how much of it was decided before we even had the chance to just… be. Us.” 

Chris leaned forward, his voice suddenly hard. “Aurora, I need you to get something straight.”

His tone made me sit up a little.

“I don’t give a damn how this started,” he said, eyes sharp. “You think I’m here playing fiancé because of a contract? No. I don’t waste my time like that.”

I opened my mouth, but he didn’t let me.

“Maybe at first, sure. It was nothing, but now? I’m in it, and I’m not the type to half-ass something once I’m in. So, no—I don’t sit around wondering if this is gonna work. I’ve already decided it will.”

He paused, jaw tight. “You don’t have to feel the same. But don’t question where I stand.”

I could see his whole demeanour change, and it made me suddenly regret my question, and I felt uncomfortable. 

“I didn’t say I don’t feel the same way…” I mumbled, eyes fixed on my lap.

Chris didn’t respond.

I heard him call the waiter over and quietly ask for the bill. A few moments later, he stood up and told me we were leaving.

Earlier, I’d thought about suggesting we walk back to the villa—just to soak in our last night here. But now, I kept that to myself. All I wanted was to get back and disappear into a dark room somewhere.

I didn’t fully understand why he got so worked up. But deep down, I knew—Chris hated having his loyalty questioned, especially by people he cared about.

The car ride was quiet. I kept my eyes out the window while he stayed on his phone. At one point, I peeked over and saw he was texting one of his brothers—probably Matt, judging by the name at the top of the screen.

My fingers were fiddling with the edge of my dress, heart heavier than I wanted to admit. I wasn’t trying to upset him. I just wanted to know where we stood—for real. 

When we got back to the villa, Chris paused near the entrance, turning to me briefly. His expression was unreadable.

“I’m heading to bed,” he said flatly. “Make sure you’ve got everything packed for tomorrow.”

Before I could respond, he was already walking away, disappearing down the hall to his room. No goodnight. No glance back. Just silence and distance.

I stood there for a moment, letting the quiet settle around me before dragging myself to my room. I peeled off my dress and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water roll over me, hoping it would wash away the tight knot in my chest. It didn’t.

Afterward, I slipped into a thin silk nightgown and towel-dried my hair before settling into bed. I picked up the book I’d brought for the trip—a romance novel I’d been looking forward to for weeks—but the words blurred together, refusing to hold my attention.

Every few seconds, my eyes flicked to the door. Waiting. Wondering.

Was he still mad? Would he even come talk to me tonight? Was I overthinking everything? Fuck. 

I had half-expected him to come into my room tonight, like he had for the past three nights, but the villa was too quiet now, too vast and empty. It felt cold in a way that the warm Greek air outside couldn't touch. I set the book down on the nightstand, my mind far too restless to focus on anything.

I tossed and turned, staring at the ceiling, trying to push thoughts of Chris out of my head. But the more I tried, the more they lingered. Eventually, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore—I needed to see him.

I threw the covers off and stood up, walking down the hall to his room. My heart was pounding, and I hesitated just outside his door. After a few moments of uncertainty, I knocked softly.

"Chris?" I called quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

There was no answer.

I knocked again, louder this time.

"Chris?" I repeated.

Still nothing.

I stood there for a moment, defeated, my hand lingering on the doorknob. What had I expected? That he would be waiting for me on the other side, ready to pick up where we left off? I sighed, turning to walk back down the hall.

But just as I took a few steps, I heard it—my name.

"Aurora."

I turned, startled by the sound of his voice. Chris stood in the doorway, wearing a grey sweater over a plain black tee, his hair still damp from a recent shower. He looked tired, but something about his eyes told me he hadn’t been sleeping much either.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze drifting over me, searching. “Do you need something?”

I shifted on my feet, suddenly unsure of why I’d even come. “No. I’m fine,” I mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, my voice quieter than I intended.

He raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t look like it.”

I looked down, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my sleeve. “I just couldn’t sleep. That’s all.”

A beat passed between us, heavy but not tense. I could feel his eyes still on me.

“Come here,” he said quietly, gesturing with a tilt of his head.

I walked over slowly, stopping just a few inches from the wall, unsure of what to expect.

After a beat, I finally asked, “Are you mad at me?”

Chris looked at me—looked—and I caught the slight flare in his nostrils before he exhaled through his nose.

“No, ma,” he said, voice firm. “I’m not mad.”

“Really? You seemed pretty upset earlier,” I added, trying to get him to open up.

“Yeah,” he said bluntly. “I was.”

I waited, but he didn’t leave it there this time.

“I just don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head. “Why is it you are always having second thoughts?”

My brows pulled together. “It’s not—Chris, I’m not having second thoughts.”

“Yes, you are,” he snapped, not angrily, but with a kind of heat that made me straighten.

“You said it yourself—‘Do you actually think this is going to work?’ That’s not nothing, Aurora. That’s you doubting us. Again.”

I opened my mouth, but he didn’t give me time.

“You always act like I’m the one who kept pulling away, who was unsure—but now that I’ve made up my damn mind, now that I’m actually here, it’s like you’re the one constantly questioning everything. Me, this engagement, if we’re real.”

His jaw tightened, chest rising and falling heavier now.

“I don’t get it,” he said again, quieter this time, but with more weight. “You wanted me to care. You wanted me to choose you. I did. But the second I do, you start pulling back.”

“I’m not pulling back, Chris…I just wanted to know,” I said, my voice quieter than before, hands slightly shaking at my sides.

He stared at me, unmoving. The space between us felt dense, like even the air was holding its breath.

“Know what?” he asked, his voice low but sharp. “That I’m not gonna leave? That I’m not faking this? That I’m not just in this because someone told me to be?”

I swallowed hard, unable to answer fast enough.

“Because if you don’t know that by now, I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.”

My chest tightened. “That’s not what I meant,” I murmured.

His eyes were colder now, less soft, less patient. “Then what did you mean?”

I looked away, focusing on a spot on the floor, trying to find the right words.

“I just—I’ve never had something like this,” I said. “Not something that feels like it could actually matter, and it scares me that maybe I’m the one who’ll ruin it.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then he stepped closer, not touching me, but close enough that I felt the heat off him.

“You’re not the one ruining it,” he said, voice low and tense. “But you questioning me like that? It makes me feel like I’m the only one all in.”

I looked up at him finally, eyes meeting his.

“You’re not,” I whispered, barely getting the words out as the weight of everything crashed into me. My chest tightened, and before I could stop them, the tears started slipping down my cheeks—slow, quiet, stubborn.

Chris noticed instantly. His expression shifted, the tension in his jaw easing as he reached out and gently cupped my cheek. His thumb brushed away a tear, his eyes fixed on mine with a quiet intensity, no longer guarded—just open.

“What do you want, Aurora?” he asked, voice low but firm. “Do you want to be with me?”

I looked up at him through glassy eyes, my breath caught in my throat. My lips trembled as I tried to respond, but all I could do was shake my head at first—not in denial, but in disbelief at how much I did. Then the words finally broke free.

“Yes,” I said, my voice breaking. “I do.”

Chris’s grip on my face tightened just slightly—not in anger, but to anchor me there, to make sure I didn’t look away.

“Okay then,” he said quietly, wiping away the remaining tears with his thumb. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek, “Be with me,” he murmured against my cheek.

I nodded, barely, my breath hitching. I looked at him, really looked at his steady gaze, the tension still resting in his shoulders, the way he was holding back.

Chris leaned in, kissing me slowly—softly, and deliberate, like he wanted to make sure I felt every second of it. His lips moved against mine with a kind of patience that made my chest ache, as if he was trying to say everything he couldn’t with words.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, our breaths mixing in the stillness between us.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, voice low but serious.

I looked up at him, surprised by the question. His eyes searched mine, steady and intense, like he needed the truth more than anything else.

“I do,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I really do.”

He nodded once, his hand still resting at the back of my neck. “Then stop fighting me,” he said. “Stop pulling away every time.”

I blinked slowly, the sting of his words lingering, but not in a cruel way. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. He was asking me to meet him where he was, to stop hesitating.

“I’m not trying to fight you,” I said.

His lips found mine again—firmer this time. No hesitation. Just him and me, like the weight of everything had finally been shaken off, even if only for tonight. I kissed him back, letting myself fall into it. Into him. 

His hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me impossibly closer, while his other arm wrapped around my waist, holding me firm against him.

I melted into it, my fingers gripping the front of his sweater. His kiss deepened, rougher around the edges now, like he couldn’t get enough. His mouth trailed down to my jaw, slow and hot, then to the curve of my neck, leaving a trail of heat behind.

“Chris…” I breathed, my voice barely a whisper.

He paused for half a second, his mouth hovering near my skin, chest rising and falling fast. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, voice hoarse, lips brushing against my collarbone.

I shook my head, the words catching in my throat. “Don’t.”

That was all it took.

He pulled away for a moment, his breathing still heavy, then took my hand firmly in his.

Without a word, he led me out of the hallway and down the stairs, his grip never loosening. The villa was dim, quiet—only the soft hum of the waves outside filled the silence.

“Where are we going?” I asked, glancing at him as we stepped into the living room.

“My bed’s a mess,” he said, glancing over his shoulder with a faint smirk. “I was packing.”

Before I could react, he guided me toward the large lounge chair facing the glass doors that looked out at the sea. With one gentle push, I landed against the cushions, big enough for both of us. The cool fabric contrasts with the heat rushing up my neck.

He hovered above me, eyes darker now, jaw tight.

“Here’s better,” he muttered, before leaning down again—this time, slower. More deliberate.

He leaned over, hands on either side of me, “You’re driving me insane, you know that?”

His gaze dropped, lingering for a moment where the hem of my nightgown had ridden up, just high enough to reveal the curve of my thighs and the soft lace of my underwear.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So you don’t wear anything under these little gowns,” he murmured, voice low, teasing.

He leaned in, his hand grazing the bare skin just above my knee. “I always wondered. You walking around the house like that—had me guessing since the first night you moved in.”

His words sent a heat rushing up my spine, especially when his fingers traced along the edge of the fabric.

“And I like it,” he muttered, brushing his lips against mine again. 

My body was starting to get this needy feeling, the same one I felt a week ago, the first time Chris went down on me.

He sat up slightly, his eyes trailing down the length of me. He took his shirt off, probably for more comfort. Gosh…he was hot. 

“Take it off,” he said, voice low.

I looked up at him, caught off guard. “What?” A slow, lazy grin pulled at his lips. “Your gown. Take it off.”

“I–” my cheeks turned red. I didn’t have anything on other than my underwear. I don't wear a bra to sleep. 

“I’ve already seen most of you, beautiful,” he said, lifting the hem of my gown slightly. “No need to be shy.”

I shifted, tucking my feet beneath me as I slowly rose to my knees. My eyes stayed on his while his gaze stayed locked on mine. I lifted the gown over my body, pulling it off in one motion. Now bare, my chest exposed, I watched as his eyes finally dropped. 

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?” I asked, instinctively covering myself, a sudden wave of insecurity washing over me.

Chris immediately reached for my wrists, gently pulling my hands back down. 

“Don’t ever hide yourself from me, Aurora,” he said, his voice firm but low.

He leaned in, kissing along my collarbone, then lower, his lips lingering just above my chest.

“May I?” he asked, eyes flicking up to meet mine—asking for permission.

I gave a small nod, breath caught in my throat, and the moment his mouth met my tits, a quiet moan escaped me.

A stray thought crossed my mind—God, this would feel amazing during my period.

Chris leaned down, placing a final kiss on each of my tits. Next, he removed my underwear and put it to the side. My wetness on display for him–my inner thighs sleek with arousal. 

Chris suddenly pulled back slightly, his hand still wrapped around mine. I looked up at him, confused. He held my gaze for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Touch yourself”, he said, his voice low but steady. “Show me what feels good to you.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his request. “Chris,” I said with a nervous laugh, unsure if he was serious.

But his expression didn’t change—there was no teasing in his eyes, only quiet patience. “Show me what you do when you’re alone,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand. “At night, when it’s just you.”

A flush crept up my cheeks. I looked down, then back up at him. He placed my hand on my chest, slowly dragging it down my lying body. His gaze never leaves mine. 

He guided our joined hands down slowly, stopping just at the center of me. My breath hitched when he pressed my palm gently against myself. The warmth of my touch startled me—and yet, his steady presence beside me grounded the moment.

Chris didn’t say anything, but the way he was watching me—attentive, calm—gave me a quiet confidence. I didn’t feel embarrassed. I didn’t feel pressured. I felt…understood.

So I didn’t pull away. I let myself keep going. 

I felt the pressure buildup in me. My eyes started to shut on their own, but from the slight opening I was able to see Chris looking down at my hands moving. 

My legs started trembling, a familiar sensation down from my stomach. I needed something more. 

“C–Chris…” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper as my hand slowed, finally stopping. “I–I need you.”

He looked up at me then, eyes dark but focused entirely on my face.

“You need me, ma?” he murmured, his voice low and deliberate.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he gently took my fingers and brought them to his mouth, tasting the traces of me with a quiet kind of reverence that sent a shiver down my spine.

He placed his hands on me, finally. I let out a soft moan of pleasure when his slightly rough hands moved down to my aching clit. He slowly rubbed his thumb in circles. 

“o-oh my gosh…Chris,” I let out a whimper, my back arching off the lounge chair. 

He stopped rubbing but instead took his index finger and put the tip of it into me, “This good?” he asked. I nodded, and he shoved the whole thing into me. 

I let out a cry of pleasure, his finger inside my walls feels amazing. 

His fingers started to pump in and out of me, stretching my walls out perfectly–hitting all the right spots.   “Feel good, princess?” He asked, his free hand caressing the side of my thighs. 

I couldn’t speak, I just started to nod frantically, whispering to him to go faster. 

I felt the knot start to form in my stomach. 

“G-gonna cum..” I managed to speak despite the pleasure. My back arched against the lounge chair, and I felt the knot in my stomach feel like it was about to burst.

Chris’s fingers moved with unrelenting precision, and the moment he murmured, “Let go for me, baby,” I shattered beneath his touch. 

My orgasm came crashing. The feeling is making me stutter. 

I let a minute go by, letting the feeling subside. I felt amazing. His touch was amazing. 

“You okay princess?” he asked me, his voice caring. I nodded, feeling the comfort and warmth of his embrace.

I nodded, my eyes drifting from his face down to the outline beneath his pants.

Chris started to move off me, but I gently caught his hand.

“You’re forgetting something,” I murmured, glancing downward.

His eyes followed mine, and a gentle smile tugged at his lips. “I didn’t forget anything.”

“Then let me,” I said, my voice soft but steady as a wave of confidence rolled over me. I reached for the hem of his sweats, pulling him gently back toward me.

Chris caught my hand, stopping me with a quiet firmness. “You don’t have to, Aurora.”

“I want to,” I replied, gently moving his hand away.

He exhaled, his resistance faltering. “Aurora…” he said again, but this time it came out more like a breath than a warning—like he was trying to convince himself.

I pulled his pants and reassured him, “It's okay”. 

 He nodded slowly, his breathing deepening, the tension between us thick in the air.

“Okay then,” he murmured, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Stand up.”

I rose to my feet, facing him, our eyes locked for a moment until he sank back into the chair.

His hand rested gently on my shoulder, guiding me downward with quiet intent until I was kneeling in front of him, heart racing.

He slowly lowered his boxers, and when he was fully exposed, my breath caught in my throat. Oh my…he was well, bigger than I expected. Like big, big. His pre-cum was evident at the top. When I looked up, he was already smirking, clearly amused by my reaction. That tease. “Go on, baby,” he said, stroking himself a few times before letting his hand fall away. “Show me how you want to help me.”

My fingers tremble slightly as I touch him, my hands wrap around him, fingers struggling with his skin to properly hold his girth. I was slightly unsure what to do, still being new to this all. 

Chris groans sharply, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

“Here,” he rasps, his voice strained “move your hands up and down for me”. 

I did as he said. 

His head falls back slightly, his thighs flexing, and his hands struggling to hold onto the lounge chair.

“Fuck….y-yes that’s it, ma.”

I watched him curiously. I’ve never seen Chris like this before. In a way, him being in this flushed state made him even more handsome. 

Chris groans again, his head tilting back further, his body tensing beneath my touch. 

“Go a bit…faster,” he muttered, his voice low and uneven. I hesitated, my thoughts suddenly catching up with me. My hands paused, unsure.

Chris looked down at me, his brows furrowing in concern. “Hey… everything okay?” he asked. “Do you want to stop? Because that’s fine–”

I cut him off and quickly shook my head. “No, it’s not that”. 

Hesitated, then looked up at him, nervous but honest. “I just… wanted to ask if you wanted me to…You know, use my mouth?”

His gaze flicked up to meet mine, surprise flashing in his eyes, but it quickly turned into a smirk. 

“Are you asking to blow me off, sweetheart?”

I nodded twice, shyly. 

“Only if you want to, ma.”

I swallow, heat curling into my stomach. Chris looked wrecked and desperate. 

I looked up at him.

“Tell me how to do it,” I said, shyly leaning down to press a few gentle kisses on his tip, his thighs clenched. 

“Fuck.”

I parted my lips and inserted him slightly into my mouth. His skin pre-cum hits my tongue. 

“Good, beautiful,” he murmurs. “Now, hollow your cheeks for me, and go down a bit more.”

I do as he says, taking him a little deeper, my tongue swirled around, trying to experiment. Chris’s hips jerked forward instantly at that, a hiss escaped his lips.

We began to find a rhythm, and with every passing second, I felt myself growing more comfortable. That heat, that familiar ache, started to stir in me again. Without thinking, I shifted slightly, subtly grinding against the back of my heel for some relief.

Chris noticed instantly. His hand reached out, gently but firmly tugging at my nipple, drawing a gasp from me. “Don’t do that, baby,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Right now, I want you focused here.”

I nod and he lets out a low chuckle, his thumb tracing my lower part of my breast, before letting you continue.

I started to move my hands and my mouth against him now. 

“Fuckk, sweetheart- ”

His lips parted, his fingers tilting my chin up slightly, a deep, strangled groan slipped past Chris’s lips as he watched me swallow him. 

“My beautiful fiance…you were–urgh–made for me.” 

He says, suddenly thrusting himself slowly into my mouth, while I was still working on him as well. 

His fingers flex on my jaw, his chest panting. “I’m-I’m gonna cum, ma…f-fuck.” 

“Take your mouth off–Aurora…I’m gonna cum into y-you”. 

I didn’t though, I kept my mouth on him, and sucked harder, just like how he’d go faster on me when I said I was close. 

It worked because with a sharp whimper, he came hard into my mouth. His cum released into my mouth and I swallowed what I could, the rest dripped down the side of my mouth. 

Chris took his hand and wiped it, shoving it back into my mouth. 

“My perfect girl,” he said, watching me, while he was still subsided from his orgasm. 

His striking blue eyes flicked between my face and the way I was still kneeling. For a moment, we just stayed there, the air thick with tension. I shifted slightly, and Chris noticed again.

“Come here, baby,” he said softly, his voice firm but gentle.

He leaned back into the lounge chair, eyes still on me as he waited. Slowly, he reached for my hand.

“Get up,” he said, pulling me gently.

I rose to my feet, and he guided me to sit with him, pulling me into his lap. I was straddling him, his hands steady on my waist, his gaze searching mine.  

“You still need me, huh?” he asked teasingly. I nodded immediately. 

I saw him take him still hard dick, and bent it onto his chest and looked up at me. 

“Sit on it,” he said, nudging me forward. I did just that. 

“Now move, back and forth, baby.”

I slowly started to grind my pussy onto his dick. The sensation immediately hit me, and it seemed to hit Chris too. His legs jerk a bit. He put his hands on my hips, moving me himself. 

One hand came up to gently cradle my jaw. “My beautiful fiancée,” he murmured.

The words settled into my chest, heavier than I expected—warm and intimate. A knot twisted low in my stomach, not just from the way our bodies were pressed so closely, but from the weight of those words alone. 

I looked down at him, and a quiet wave of admiration began to rise in me. There was something in the way he held me—steady, patient, unwavering—that made me feel safe. With Chris, I never felt judged or rushed. When we weren’t fighting, he was my calm, my grounding force. That moment, I realized how deeply grateful I was that he always let me move at my own pace.

“I’m gonna cum a-again Chris” I started to move faster and he started to jutt me against him faster. 

“Come with me sweetheart”, he said, his voice just as wrecked. 

In a few moments, we both unraveled together, our moans tangled in the quiet air between us. My hands pressed gently against his chest as I tried to steady my breathing, heart still racing. Chris’s release squirted onto his chest. 

A minute passed in silence, our bodies slowly coming down from the high. He reached over to the small table beside the lounge chair, grabbing a tissue and wiping himself clean. 

Then, without a word, he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me gently into his chest, cradling me against him. His hand traced slow circles along my back, and I let myself melt into the safety of his hold.

Chris’s fingers moved gently through my hair, his other arm still wrapped around my waist. I could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear, grounding me.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, his lips brushing my temple.

I nodded against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the soft thrum of his voice vibrate beneath my cheek. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

He smiled, I could feel it more than see it. “You wore me out too, ma,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But I got you.”

Neither of us said anything for a moment. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was warm. Full. His heartbeat thudded steadily beneath my cheek, grounding me in a way nothing else could.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice low and soft.

I smiled against his chest. “I like it like this.”

“Yeah?” His hand paused, then resumed its slow path across my back. “Me too.”

I felt him rub slow circles onto my back. My breathing started to be normal again. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” he murmured, “Did I hurt you at all?”

I shook my head. “No, not at all.”

Chris shifted slightly beneath me, his fingers gently brushing my back. “Come on, baby,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

I hummed sleepily in protest, not wanting to leave the comfort of his chest just yet.

He smiled softly, then reached over the side of the couch and grabbed the thick throw blanket draped there. Without a word, he sat up and carefully wrapped it around me, tucking it snugly under my arms, covering me. 

I looked up at him, my heart squeezing at how gentle he was. He held out his hand, waiting for me to take it.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he added with a small smirk, “before we fall asleep like this and wake up glued to each other.”

I let out a quiet laugh and took his hand, still wrapped tightly in the blanket. He led me toward the bathroom in his room. His other hand on my back the entire way—protective, warm, and steady. He wasn’t wrong when he said his bed was messy earlier. 

Inside the shower, the warmth was immediate. Chris stayed close, his touch slow and gentle. He helped rinse soap through my hair, fingers massaging my scalp with so much care it nearly made my knees weak. When I closed my eyes, he pressed a kiss to my temple, and I leaned into him instinctively. 

“This is my second shower of the night,” I giggled. 

He smiled down at me, “Mine too”. 

I felt… safe. Not just because of how tender he was being, but because I knew, deep down, that I could be fully myself with him.

When we stepped out, he wrapped me in one of the soft towels like I might break. Then he took another and began drying my hair, his hands still so gentle. No teasing. No rush. Just this quiet comfort I never knew I needed so badly.

Chris tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear before pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. I was already dressed in one of his black t-shirts, it hung loose and comfortable on me, smelling like him.

We made our way to my room quietly. I grabbed a pair of underwear from my luggage and slipped into bed, pulling the covers over myself. Chris followed right behind, wearing just his boxers, and slid in beside me.

He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest. His warmth surrounded me, and I sighed, feeling instantly at ease.

“You’re not done packing,” I murmured sleepily, my voice muffled against his shoulder.

He gave a tired little hum. “I’ll finish in the morning,” he said, already sounding half-asleep.

A thought popped into my head, and I lifted my face a little. “My nightgown and some of your clothes are still in the living room.”

He chuckled softly and kissed the top of my head. “Guess the living room’s seen enough tonight,” he teased. “I’ll grab them later.”

“Mmhm,” I said, nestling closer. “You better.”

Chris just smiled against my hair, holding me tighter. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight,” I whispered, letting my eyes close with his arms still wrapped around me.

This was a trip well spent, with not much meddling.

READ ALL RELEASED CHAPTERS HERE!

[a/n: Who gets the song lyric in the title? If you do your special. Next chapter, soon. Sort of busy this week, but I'm aiming to get stuff out quick. Like, comment, and reblog. mwah] –Ceyana

tags: @loser41ifee @bluestriips @mattsfrenchtoast @slvtf0rchr1s @courta13 @emeraldsturns

(I want to add a lot of people to this tag list, so comment! Don't be shy. kisses <3)

[delimeats-000]

Cash in my prize:

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smut, shit writing

note: don't read if you're a little bitch..

request -> anon

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i went along with the triplets to film them at the american ninja warrior park.

as everyone knows chris constantly flirts with me as a joke to get me all flustered, sooooo in return, ill do the same.

they started off on an inflatable wall climb..

"come on y/n, you try!" nic says.

"nah id rather climb chris instead" i say while winking at chris.

"Y/NN!!"

they move on to the obstacle course..

"chris if you make it before nick ill give you a big kiss"

chris turns to me wide eyed and gets a head start before the countdown.

he makes it to the finish before nic, "congrats monkey but we can save your prize for later." i wink again.

i cant tell if he's red from blushing or if hes just overworked. either way, still cute.

the good finally make their way to the wall, starting off small they go to the lowest one.

chris comes down from it using the pole to slide down.

"if i did that with less clothes its worth a million bucks" he comments.

"i gotta put in a loan."

"shut up" chris chuckles.

we get back to the house and the guys are so tired that they go shower then bed immediately. or so i thought.

what i didn't know what chris was waiting out in his room for his brothers to go to sleep so that he could come up and have a little talk with me.

chris' pov:

i go upstairs to see y/n sitting on her phone in the living room. she thinks she's so funny flirting with me all day getting me all nervous and shit.

i walk up to her and sit down putting my arm around her.

"christopher did you shower? you stink dude." she giggles.

"think you're funny?"

"usually.."

"im talking about earlier. trying to make me nervous or what?"

"so you can jokingly flirt but i can't?" she backs away.

pulling her close i get in her face, "i was never joking."

she looks at me confused, flustered, needy..

i grab her face and smash my lips onto hers, she doesn't pull away. surprising.

seconds go by and i pull away, "just had to cash in my prize. ill go ahead and shower now"

"can i- can i come too?"

i smile and start walking to my room.

y/n's pov:

next thing i know we're in his shower.

"get on your knees pretty girl" he says softly.

i do as i'm told and look up at him waiting for further instruction.

he plays with my wet hair watching me reach for his already hard cock. "good girl baby, keep listening and there shouldn't be any problems."

"yes sir" he laughs at this.

he grabs my hair harshly lifting my head to look at him, "suck" is all he says.

i try my best to fit all of him in my mouth he doesn't give me much of a chance before thrusting himself down my throat completely.

i choke at the length, if the water wasn't showered down on me he'd see the tears falling from my eyes.

he continues fucking my throat without giving me any breaks. he looks down at me, "such a good girl, god y/n- feels s'good."

"nothing to say pretty girl?" he laughs, "fuck gonna take my cum like the good little slut you are?"

i nod my head with him still in my mouth.

he thrusts a few more times before pulling out and resting his dick on my tongue, cumming in my mouth.

"such a good little slut baby."

"chris please- need more"

he grabs my chin petting my face, "tell me what you want"

"want you inside me chris please"

"you got it ma." he smiles helping me up, he grabs my face and kisses me gently, "ive waited too long for this."

"me too."

he turns me around and smacks my ass, bending me over chris rubs his dick up and down my hole. "you ready ma?"

"yes chris please hurry-" im cut off completely by chris entering me with full force. "FUCK"

"shit ma you're so wet just for me, feel so good might cum already"

"chris harder- FUCK" he puts a hand on my shoulder and another on my waist getting a better grip.

"oh god baby you're so tight, you gonna cum for me?"

"yes yes ye- shit" i feel myself pulse around him "just like that chris fuck"

"cum all over me pretty girl, c'mon" and with that i release everything onto him, my legs shake as he continues to thrust inside of me sloppily.

just then he pulls out at loses it all over my ass and lower back. he spins me around again holding me up so i don't fall.

he gives me a peck on the lips, "you're so pretty."

"you're such a flirt."

"says you."

[cyberl6ve]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 ─ 𝟖

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⋆✴︎˚｡⋆  STORY CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT !! ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

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⊱  ۫ ׅ ✧ :  𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, it's time for the race to start. The crowd around us quiets down, anticipation hanging in the air as the racers settle into their cars.

I climb into my car, my heart pounding with adrenaline and excitement. This race has been building up all evening, and now it's time to put my skills to the test.

As I buckle my seatbelt and grip the steering wheel tightly, I can feel my focus sharpening. This race is important. Not only do I want to win, but I also want to prove myself to the others, especially Chris.

I glance over at the other racers, catching Chris's eye for a brief moment before he looks away. His expression is unreadable, but I'm sure he's just as determined as I am to win tonight.

The starter's voice rings out through the loudspeaker, signaling the countdown. I take a deep breath, steadying my nerves and preparing myself for the race.

3...2...1...!

The loud sound signals the start of the race, and I press down on the gas pedal, my engine roaring to life as I speed forward.

I surge ahead, my car accelerating rapidly and taking the lead. The wind rushes past me, adrenaline pumping through my veins as I focus on the track ahead.

The other racers try to keep up, but I manage to stay ahead, driving with intense focus and precision. My car glides smoothly over the track, each turn and corner handled with ease.

The race takes off and we speed through the city streets, passing iconic landmarks and neon lights flying by. We dodge in and out of the maze-like maze of roads, the city's energy fueling our adrenaline.

The other racers try to catch up, but I keep my lead, weaving through traffic and making sharp turns with skill and finesse. My heart races as I navigate the streets, the sound of engines rumbling and tires screeching echoing in my ears.

As I race, I'm acutely aware that we are participating in illegal street racing. The thrill of doing something taboo adds an extra adrenaline rush to the whole experience, making the race even more intense and exciting.

As I focus on the road ahead, I hear a loud engine roar behind me. I glance in the rearview mirror to see Chris closing the gap between us, his car gaining speed as he attempts to overtake me.

He's pulling out all the stops, pushing his car to the limit and taking riskier turns to catch up to me. I can feel the pressure mounting as I try to maintain my lead, but Chris is not making it easy.

As we approach a tight turn, I execute a perfect drift, my car sliding sideways around the corner with precision. But to my surprise, Chris follows suit, his car also drifting around the turn in perfect synchronization with mine.

As we leave the other drivers behind, it's just me and Chris now, our cars side by side as we race through the city streets. The thrill of the competition heightens as we push each other to our limits.

The road ahead is clear, and we speed forward, the only sound the roar of our engines and the wind howling past us. We dodge in and out of traffic, the city's lights becoming a blur as we focus on nothing but beating each other.

Driving side by side, Chris glances over at me with a cocky smirk before yelling out through his open window, “You're not getting away that easily, Ma!”

His voice is a mix of tease and competition, his confidence seeping through every word. I narrow my eyes, focusing even more intently on the road ahead.

As Chris tries to taunt me with his snarky remarks, I catch a glimpse of an upcoming side street that I know like the back of my hand. With a smirk, I think to myself, “Watch me.”

I quickly steer my car onto the side street at the last moment, cutting through a short route that I know will give me an advantage. The other racers continue down the main road, unaware of the shortcut I've just taken.

The side street is narrow and dark, but I don't slow down. My car hugs the corners and weaves through the darkness with ease, my knowledge of the area coming in handy. The sounds of the main road fade into the background as I continue on my secret path.

After a few moments, I find myself emerging back onto the main road, a small but significant distance ahead of the other racers. I glance in the rearview mirror and catch a glimpse of their bewildered expressions as they realize I've made use of the unexpected shortcut.

As I focus on the road ahead, I occasionally glance into my mirrors to check on the other racers. I notice that Chris's car is nowhere to be seen, but then, I see the unmistakable orange glow of his corvette c8 as it turns the corner and comes into view behind me.

As the orange corvette appears in the mirrors, I can't help but let out a frustrated sigh. “C'mon, Christopher, give me a break!” I mutter under my breath. How did he manage to catch up so quickly?

Despite my annoyance, a small part of me can't help but feel impressed. Chris is a skilled driver, there's no doubt about that. But that doesn't make it any easier to accept his determination to catch up to me.

I'm slightly taken aback by the fact that Chris has managed to catch up to me so quickly. It's not just anyone who can keep up with my skill, but here he is, closing the gap between us with every turn. Despite my competitive nature, a small part of me acknowledges the sheer talent that Chris possesses.

I quickly shake off the thought and refocus my attention on the race ahead. I can't let myself be distracted by his skills, no matter how impressive they may be.

The sound of the engine roaring and tires screeching fills the air as I navigate the streets with skill and precision. I glance back in the mirror and see Chris's corvette gaining ground, his determination evident in his intense expression.

But I refuse to let him get too close. I make use of every shortcut and maneuver available to me, pushing my car to its limits and hoping to stay just out of his reach.

The finish line comes into view, the roaring crowds surrounding the race adding to the intensity of the moment. The other racers are still far behind, and it's clear that it's a battle between me and Chris.

As the finish line approaches, Chris's corvette draws closer and closer to my car. The gap between us is tightening, but I refuse to give up the lead. My hands grip the wheel tightly, my focus locked on crossing the line first. The crowd's cheers are deafening, and I can feel the tension in the air.

With a final burst of speed and determination, I cross the finish line first, my car gliding smoothly across the mark. The crowds erupt in cheering and applause, and I can't help but feel a rush of excitement and satisfaction. I glance in my mirrors and see Chris's corvette following behind me, his expression a mix of irritation and respect.

I can't help but feel a sense of victory and pride as I realize that I've won the race. It feels good to know that I've been able to prove myself as a skilled racer, even against someone as talented as Chris. As I slow down my car and the adrenaline starts to wear off, I can feel the exhaustion setting in, but it's a good kind of exhaustion— the kind that comes after a hard-earned victory.

As I step out of my car, a wave of congratulations and pats on the back greets me. The energy from the crowd is high, and everyone seems to be showering me with praise and admiration. People congratulate me on a job well done, and I can't help but feel a sense of fulfillment and happiness.

Chris steps out of his car, a cocky smile on his face. He walks towards me and holds out his hand, saying, “Congrats, you drove well tonight.”

I look at him for a moment, the mix of satisfaction and frustration from the close race bubbling to the surface. I take a deep breath, refusing to let his cocky demeanor get to me.

Then, suddenly, I snap. The adrenaline and emotions from the race still coursing through me, I can't help but unleash on him.

“You could at least act a little humbled,” I retort, narrowing my eyes. “I beat you fair and square, you know.”

I shake my head and let out a small sigh, a smirk on my face. It's no surprise that Chris is still acting cocky despite losing. He's been like this as long as I've known him, and I doubt anything I say or do will change that.

“You're unbelievable, you know that?” I say, half-amused, half-exasperated.

“Unbelievable in a good way or a bad way?” Chris responds with a sly grin. He leans back against his car, crossing his arms and maintaining his confident demeanor.

As I'm about to respond to Chris, I'm interrupted by the sound of someone approaching and clapping their hands. I turn to see who it is and immediately recognize the person. My expression changes to a mix of annoyance and discomfort.

A sense of unease washes over me as I recognize the person approaching. This isn't someone I'm happy to see, and their sudden appearance only adds to the tension of the moment.

TO BE CONTINUED…

© CYBERL6VE

[wqbytop100]

WQBY (the world of Q)

TOP150 For the week ending February 18, 2024

I Don't Wanna Worry --NEEDTOBREATHE - 1

Weak --Vintage Culture, Maverick Sabre, Tom Breu -3

Jet Plane --R3HAB, VIZE, JP Cooper -10

Never Be Friends --Jost, Mingue -4

Heart Still Beating --Nathan Dawe, Bebe Rexha -6

She's On My Mind --Romy -8

Anyone --Morgan Page -2

Dirty Desire --Vicetone -5

It's Love (If We Get It Right) --Anthony Russo -15

You're Hired --NEIKED, Ayra Starr -9

Close Your Eyes --Lucas Estrada, Tribbs, Stephen Puth -7

Both ---Tiesto, 21 Savage, BIA -18

Spicy Margarita --Jason Derulo, Michael Bublé -11

Graveyard --A R I Z O N A -13

Other Boys ---Marshmello, Dove Cameron -17

Feels Like Us --GT_OFICE, ALWY SNNY, Robbie Rosen -16

You --Svidden, Seeb -34

One On One --The Knocks, Sofi Tucker -14

Yes, And? --Ariana Grande -24

Reckless Child ---Milky Chance -19

All Fckd Up --Kapuzen -12

Waterslides --Tiesto, Rudimental, Absolutely -25

Kill Anyone --Two Feet, Ari Abdul -23

Kissing Strangers -USHER -150

Diamond Therapy --Diplo, Walker & Royce, Channel Tres -22

Bad Blood --Theresa Rex -20

***Weight Of The World --Bonnie & Clyde - (new)

Dark Skies -- A R I Z O N A -21

***Mr Useless --Shygirl, SG Lewis - (new)

Spend the Night --BJ the Chicago Kid, Coco Jones -26

I'll Be There --Robin Schulz, Rita Ora, Tiago PZK -28

U Miss Me --Vicetone -33

Dreamteam --Galantis, Neon Trees -35

More Baby --Chris Lake, Aluna -29

Easy --3LAU, XIRA -47

See You Again ---Vicetone, Anna Clendenning -38

Hangin' On --A R I Z O N A -43

AEIOU- --PNAU, Empire Of the Sun -36

Good In Goodbye ---Frank Walker, Trivecta -49

How Do I Say Goodbye --Adventure Club, Delaney Jane-41

Stress You --Lucas Estrada, SUPER Hi -37

Sorry Now - - A R I Z O N A -39

Wanna --Paul Dally -42

Flex --Tony Dark Eyes -63

Next Years Light --Elliot Moss -64

Go Off --Mike Candys -45

Lift Off ---Dombresky -58

Ohh LALA --Sasha GiGi, Idris Elba -44

Young & Foolish --Loud Luxury, Charlieonafriday -50

Strangers --Kenya Grace -40

Good Morning --Timmy Trumpet, Alie Farben, YOU -30

The Tower --Future Islands -48

Nevada --Vicetone, Cuzi Zuehisdorff -46

Fire --Alan Walker, YUQI, JVKE, (G)I-DLE -54

Summertime Friends --The Chainsmokers -133

Sweet Venom --ENHYPEN -57

Save My Love --Destiny Rogers -52

Tension --Kylie Minogue -53

<>Twisted --Laura Davidson -last on @#105 1.18.24

Body Moving --Eliza Rose, Calvin Harris -55

Cutting Loose --Disco Lines, J. Worra, Anabel Englund -27

No Reason --The Chemical Brothers (Chris Lake remix) -31

Rhythm Machine --Westend, Max Styler -32

One Last Dance --Imanbek, Ali Gatie -51

Fall Again --HAYLA -56

Heat Rising --Pete Tong, Jem Cooke, Jules Buckley -59

Run Free (Countdown) --Tiesto, R3HAB -60

Do You Feel It --VAMERO, Cyril M Mougleta -75

ADHD -Mae Stephens -71

Get Dirty --Return of the Jaded, Tommie Sunshine -61

Living In A Haze --Milky Chance -62

Triumph ---Bishop Briggs -68 [starts vocals]

Good For You --Dimitri Vegas, Chapter & Verse, Goodboys -87

Forever (Stay Like This)-- Armin Van Buuren -78

I Don't Remember --Walker & Royce, VNSSA -84

Dance Is The Answer --Dubdogs, RUBACK, Ticon, Raja Ram -74

High And I Like It --It's Murph, Eyalyn -103

Jaguar --Yaeger -65

Dizzy --Sick Individuals, LOUI LANE -66

Lullaby --Britti -67

Lie To Me -Jubel KIDDO -70

Sorry Ain't Enough --Michael Gerow -69

Missing You --Frank Walker, Nate Smith -83

I Got Time --Brittney Spencer -72

***Slide Out --Life On Planets -(new)

What Do You Do For A Living? I Do My Best --Iamnotshane -105

Lead Me On --FLETCHER -117

Everybody Knows I'm High --SHAED -107

No Man's Land --Marshmello, Venbee -76

Afterglow --Klangkarussell, GIVVEN -110

Alive --K-391 -111

***Follow You --Return Of the Jaded, MELLY OHH -(new)

One By One --Robin Schulz, Topic, Oaks -79

Waking Up --Felix Jaehn, Leony -77

Lonely Nights ---Papa Beats -112

Mas Que Nada --Oliver Heldens, Ian Asher, Sergio Mendez -73

Deep In Your Love --ALOK, Bebe Rexha -80

J Christ --Lil Nas X -81

Face To Face --Knnzie -82

Murder On The Dancefloor --Sophie Ellis-Bextor -85

Biggest Regret--Gorgon City, Bbyafricka -86

Dreaming ---Marshmello, Pink, Sting -86

Mirrors --Caravan Palace -90

Rebel --TVXQ -94

***Taking It Back--DJ MINX -(new)

No Strings ---X Ambassadors -100

Free Falling ---James Arthur -116

***Purple Irises --Gwen Stefani, Blake Shelton -(new)

***Come Right Back ---Morgan Page -(new)

Run ---ATB, Nu Aspect, Orem -91

Stop The Time --Zombic -93

Yard Sale --Alex Warren -95

Pull You Closer --Sistek, Sadie Rose Van -96

Drums ---James Hype, Kim Petras -97

Years --Just Us -98

Who I Am --Alan Walker, Putri Ariani, Peder Elias -99

Burnin' -Rinzen, Shallou -108

When I Wake Up --Lucas & Steve, Skinny Days -109

Maktub ---Gary Clark Jr. -118

The Thief --Future Islands -120

Beats For The Underground ---Mau P -121

Pick Me --Alec Benjamin -122

***Checking In -- for KIng & Country, Lee Brice -(new)

Superhero --AUDIEN -114

ME-- Steve Angello -102

***Loneliness ---Pet Shop Boys (Radio edit) - (new)

One Night/All Night --Justice, Tame Impala -115

Heart Pure --Grigore -130

***Give Me ---Will Clarke, BURNS -(new)

***Low Again ---Bakermat -(new)

Daydream --Will Swinton -127

***Lonely Dancers --Conan Gray - (new)

Untouchable --ITZY -101

Give It To Me --Lucky Luke -104

Alibi --Ella Henderson, Rudimental -106

Can't Get Enough --Jennifer Lopez -113 >>>

Lighthouse --Calum Scott -119 >>>

When We Die (Can We Still Get High) --Yungblood, Lil Yachy -123 >>>

Us --Steve Aoki f/ ERNEST -124 >>>

Hungover --John Summit, Mathame, Camden Cox -125 >>>

Overdrive ---Ofenbach, Norma Jean Marine -126 >>>

Disco En Egypte --Bon Entendeur -128 >>>

Falling Behind --Sultan + Shepard -129 >>>

***Take A Moment --ATB, David Frank - (new)

***All Of You --Mees Salome, ALLKNIGHT - (new) >>>

***Somethings Gonna Workout ---Jai Piccone, 1tbsp - (new)

***Pictures Of You --Anyma -(new)

***Never Be Lonely ---Jax Jones, Zoe Wees -(new)

***I'm One Of the Rest --TALK -(new)

<>You Can Have It ---Kungs, Victor Flash -[last on @#117 2.4.24] >>>

<> re-entry on chart / *** new on chart / >>>off chart next week

18 NEW on the Chart this week... #027 Weight Of The World #029 Mr. Useless #085 Slide Out #092 Follow You #105 Takin It Back #108 Purple Irises #109 Come Right Back #123 Checking In #126 Loneliness #129 Give Me #120 Low Again #132 Lonely Dancers [ #144 Take A Moment [2.2.24] #145 All Of You #146 Somethings Gonna Workout #147 Pictures Of You #148 Never Be Lonely #149 I'm One Of The Rest

[chrisevansluv]

Chris has been going to Disney World for almost 40 years. He has posted pictures of him as like a 4 year old at Disney. He talks extensively about how he loves going this Disney every year with his family. About how they have a countdown to when they go and how they text about it. In what world would a woman enter into this situation as a catalyst for the trip? Are you the same anon who was like Ohhhh he bought a plant? Bet it’s for a woman. Separately, to answer other questions- Disney World is about 10x bigger than Disneyland and is substantially closer to MA. He flies his family down there. Schools are closed for most of the week for the holiday so it’s not like they had to take the kids out in order to do the trip. And he probably doesn’t have a bidet so I guess he is wiping.

That last sentence tho

[foxydivaxx]

Goddess Awakening Chapter 5

"Feyi don't do it!" Sade warns. Feyi finally decided to let her family in on it because they and the Adebites have a dark history with each other. Both families used to be friends until a public spat between Chief Adebite and Chief Badmus drove both families apart. What that spat was about is anyone's guess.

"Feyi, Chris humiliated you at that party years ago!! He could humiliate you again!!" says Ireti. Feyi raises an eyebrow. "I doubt it." Dr Rotimi was watching a video o Youtube and then alerts them. "Ladies you need to see this." The rest of the family exchanged confused looks before gathering round to see the video.

Chris had just posted a video online, talking about the challenge."I have a huge announcement ladies and gents!! Drum roll!!" A dramatic drum roll plays and obce it stops, Chris says excitedly, "EbonyKnight has accepted my open challenge but this time it's different. We shall have the first ever Battle Royale match live on next week Wednesday at 1pm sharp at the Hard Rock Cafe. Be there or get squared!!"

Dr Rotimi sighed. "She has no choice but to do it. Even if she does not accept it, he would still go out there and pressure her into accepting via his Youtube channel. The guy has a lot of viewers."

"Yeah but he is doing this for cheap publicity. I doubt Feyi can even win." says Mrs Badmus.

"I have beaten him several times at that game mother..."

All eyes fall on Feyi who had a determined look on his face. "I can do it again." She then comes closer to her mother and stops in front of her, arms folded. Of all the Badmus sisters, she is the shortest and resembles her father due to her slightly dark complexion and broad shoulders.

Mrs Badmus looks her daughter in the eye. "Why bother yourself with games anyways? It is a waste of time. Why not bother to do something far more tangible with your time eh? Why not start a business or go and actually get a proper job?"

Feyi glares icily at her mother. "Really mother? Is that what you want to say?" Mrs Badmus stares at her daughter. "Are you talking to me?"

"Yes I am talking to you mother because I have had it with you!" The woman was taken aback by this. "How dare you speak to your mother that way?!" Ireti shouts. "I have every right to because this woman keeps on treating me like shit!! I have no job, you do not respect me!! You are looking down on me whenever I try to do something!! Why is it that you always criticise whatever I do?! Why mother?! I did not ask to be born with whatever it is that I am born with!! God just created me that way for a reason!! Why can you not accept me for who I am?! That is why I will do that challenge!! As for the results, I will win because I know I can!! I am not useless or worthless and I will prove myself to the world and you my family!!"

With that, she walks off, leaving her stunned mother behind. She then grabs her laptop and gets down to work and begins to work hard on improving her craft by using the Practice Tool and then playing a couple games and maintaining her current track record.

Meanwhile, Chris was in his penthouse suite chilling out with his friends. "So Ebony is Feyi?! No fucking way!!" says Idris Shettima. Chris nods. "It seems that the girl improved over the years." says Richard. "How are you not sure that her account did not get boosted?" asks Chris.

"If it were boosted, then she wouldn't have gotten to Gold IV on the American server." says Alex Oputa. Chris sighs and takes his seat, a glass of red wine in hand. Memories begin to flood in his mind of his days in secondary school.

He and Feyi were classmates and he and his friends at the time used to bully and torment her relentlessly. He even exposed Feyi at a party for cheating at WAEC, a scene that tarnished the Badmus family's image. He just liked hurting Feyi partly because she is a girl and partially because she is a Badmus.  He will never forgive her father for disgracing his own father years ago. Now he will get the ultimate revenge by destroying his archnemesis for good.

"Let's see how you survive this one Feyi."

Time begins to fly by and soon D-Day arrives. Feyi gets herself ready, wearing a simple T-Shirt with a nice ankara design on it and a pair of jeans and sneakers. The girl stares at herself in the mirror. Usually she hates looking at her reflection but today is completely different.  Sade walks into the room. "You ready kiddo?" Feyi nods and grabs her bag and walks out of the room.

The Badmus family soon arrive at Hard Rock Cafe and walk inside to find the location of the match. The last time Feyi came in there was a couple months ago with her cousins. The entire place was filled with a lot of people. "Wow!! So many people!!" says Sade. Mrs Badmus remains unfazed, not completely interested. If anything she wants to get out of there.

"Ah there you are!!"

They turn around to see Chris make his way towards them with a fake friendly smile in place. Feyi folds her arms and takes the opportunity to scrutinize him. "Aren't you a little overdressed for a showcase match?"

Chris simply shrugs. In stark contrast to Feyi's more laidback casual outfit, Chris opted for a black suit. "Hey!! A little glam is needed here!!" She rolled her eyes. "Oh please!!"

Chris does not look at Feyi's family in light of their past terrible encounter. Instead he opts to lead Feyi towards the place where they would do the showcase. In the middle of the room are two computer systems, arranged back to back.

Without hesitation, Feyi takes her seat at one and starts it up whilst Chris follows suit. Dolapo who happened to be around the area shows up alongside some of Feyi's old friends. "Good afternoon ma." Dolapo greets Mrs Badmus as he prostrates for her. "Ah Dolapo nice to see you. Ah you brought the whole gang here." says Ireti. The other kids all greeted the other Badmuses.

"The match is simple; the two players here will play with their best champ stats. The objective is to reduce the enemy's life bar to zero. The player that does that at the end wins the game." the special announcer for the match says.

"Kind of like a mini fighting game." Dolapo mutters. "What did you say?" Sade asked. "Just an observation about what they are about to do." he replies. Kai, one of Feyi's friends from America explains. "The game is divided into various modes; the main mode that many of us know is the Gold mode. That one is where you play as a team of five. This mode is the VS mode. There is the Battle mode also like the Gold mode. That one you play as five and that one is similar to VS mode. Everyone creates a character with a base stat and with a special talent and designation."

"So how come he did not says Battle Mode?" Mrs Badmus asks."Feyi would need a team. Chris has one." says Dolapo. "If she had told us beforehand, we could have changed it to Battle Mode and trained together. " says Kai. "We will have to call Tolani after this so that we can quickly assemble a team just in case." says Henry.

Both players put on their headphones and stare intently at their screens. Both of them had logged into their accounts and had choosen their characters. Chris' character, The Dark King had spikes on his black armour and a long red cape and held a sword.

"Wait....Chris' character is a fighter/assassin whilst Feyi's a mage and a support mage at that?" Dolapo observes. "She may not win this one." says Dr Rotimi. "She can. Since she is a support, she should be able to heal herself at some point." says Kai.

The Badmus family begin to say a silent prayer as they wait for the match to start. A countdown begins and once the clock reaches zero, the game starts. "LET THE BATTLE BEGIN!!"

[jobean12-blog]

This was everything I hoped for and SO MUCH more! I just…I feel feral myself🥵🔥🩷

Okay. But viking!Steven feral AF after a battle and storming into your home and beelining straight for his little bride to get out all of that excess adrenaline 😳🕳️💦

Come Down from Battle

Characters/Pairings: Viking King Steve Rogers x curvy Female!Reader Word Count: 2.4k

Content/Warnings: DARK established relationship - kidnapped wife; explicit smut: rough sex, oral (male receiving), unprotected vaginal intercourse, light breastplay, insemination; use of pet name (little wife); dirty talk; implied breeding kink; discussion of producing children

Notes: Takes place 6-8 weeks after So Black the Darkness Hums. And just a little more of my viking research: a kongsgård is a dwelling for a king or magnate, had a great hall, residential quarters, etc, but not as big or grand as a castle.

Additional Note: Why not cold viking King Steven on birthday eve/the eighth night of my Birthday Jubilee celebration?

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The kongsgård bustles with activity as word spreads of the king's return. You hear the commotion from your chambers - shouts, the clatter of armor, heavy footsteps. Your heart races with fear and anticipation, knowing Steven will soon arrive, and you make your way to the great hall to greet him as all the household is expected to do.

The door bursts open and Steven storms through, still clad in his blood-stained armor. His eyes, wild with the remnants of battle-fury, scan the room until they land on you. Without a word, he strides towards you, ignoring all others, his massive frame radiating power and barely contained energy.

"My little wife," he growls, voice rough from shouting commands. His hands, still gloved in leather, grasp your face as he crushes his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. The metallic tang of blood mingles with his familiar taste.

“Come,” he commands, grabbing your arm and pulling you along. You stumble after him before recovering your footing as he drags you through the winding corridors of the Kongsgård, his grip unyielding, undeterred until he has you in your chambers.

Steven slams the heavy wooden door behind you, the sound echoing through the room. His hands are already working at the fastenings of his armor, shedding pieces haphazardly onto the floor. You move to assist him, fingers trembling slightly as you help remove the blood-stained leather and metal.

As the last piece falls away, Steven grabs you again, spinning you around and pressing you against the wall. His body cages you in, hot and solid against your back. You feel his breath, heavy and ragged, against your neck.

"I've thought of nothing but you for days," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "The heat of battle, the clash of steel - none of it compares to the fire you ignite in me."

You shiver at his words, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through you. In the two months since he took you from your village, you've grown accustomed to his rough passion - come to crave it at times - even though you are still tentative of this powerful warrior king. But there's something different in his eyes tonight - a wildness, an intensity that both thrills and terrifies you.

His hands roam your body, rough and possessive, as if relearning every curve and plane. You gasp as he yanks at the laces of your dress, tearing the fabric in his haste to get to your bare skin. The cool air hits your exposed flesh, raising goosebumps across your body.

"Steven," you whisper, your voice trembling. "You're home safe. There's no need to rush-"

He silences you with another bruising kiss, his tongue invading your mouth as his hands continue their frantic exploration of your body. You taste blood on his lips - whether his or an enemy's, you're not sure.

Steven's mouth descends on your neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave marks. His beard scratches against your sensitive skin as he works his way down to your shoulder. One large hand cups your breast, kneading roughly, while the other snakes down to hike up your skirts.

"I need you," he growls against your skin. "Now."

You hear the rustle of fabric as he frees himself from his breeches. Without warning, he lifts you, pinning you against the wall with his body. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist.

Your breath catches as you feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance. Despite your body's automatic response to his touch, you're not fully ready for him. But Steven doesn't wait. With a powerful thrust, he sheathes himself inside you, tearing a cry from your throat.

The stretch burns, a mixture of pain and pleasure that leaves you gasping. Steven doesn't give you time to adjust, setting a brutal pace as he pounds into you against the wall. His hands grip your thighs hard enough to bruise, holding you in place as he takes his pleasure.

"Mine," he growls, his voice rough with exertion and possessiveness. "Say it. Tell me you're mine."

"Yours," you gasp, the word torn from your lips as he hits a spot deep inside you that makes you see stars. "I'm yours, Steven."

His pace increases, each thrust driving you higher up the wall. The rough stone scrapes against your back, but you barely notice the pain, overwhelmed by the sensations Steven is wringing from your body. Your arms wrap tightly around his neck, clinging to him as he ravages you.

"That's right," Steven growls, his breath hot against your ear. "Mine. My little bride, my conquest, my queen."

His words send a shiver through you. Despite everything, despite the circumstances that brought you here, you can't deny the thrill that runs through you at being claimed so thoroughly by this powerful man. Your body responds to him instinctively, inner walls clenching around his thick length as he pounds into you relentlessly.

Steven's hand snakes between your bodies, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs since he loves to watch you fall apart for him. His rough fingers circle and press, drawing gasps and moans from your lips. The dual sensations of his cock pounding into you and his skilled fingers on your clit quickly build the tension in your core.

"Come for me, little wife," Steven commands, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "Let me feel you come undone around my cock."

Your back arches as waves of pleasure crash over you, your inner walls clenching rhythmically around Steven's thick length. You cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you shudder in his arms.

Steven groans at the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, milking him.

He turns away from the wall and carries you to the bed. Despite your big size, you are nothing but a small and delicate thing to him, giant viking that he is. The physicality, his prowess, it’s more of what makes you weak for him.

Steven tosses you onto the bed, your body bouncing slightly on impact. Before you can catch your breath, he's on you, flipping you onto your stomach and yanking your hips up. You feel his cock, still hard and slick with your juices, pressing against your entrance once more.

"Only getting started, little wife," he growls, his voice thick with lust.

With one powerful thrust, he sheathes himself inside you again. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your oversensitive flesh protesting the renewed assault. Steven sets a punishing pace, his hips snapping against your ass with bruising force. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he takes his pleasure.

"So tight," he grunts, his breath coming in harsh pants. "Always so perfect for me."

One of his hands snakes around to your front, groping your breast before tweaking the nipple, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through your hypersensitive body. You gasp and moan for him.

"That's it," he growls. "Let me hear you, little wife. Let everyone in the Kongsgård know how well your king pleases you."

His words send a fresh wave of heat through you. The thought of others hearing your cries of passion, knowing that you're being thoroughly claimed by your warrior king, is both mortifying and thrilling. Your cheeks burn with shame even as your body responds eagerly to Steven's touch.

"Tell me how it feels," Steven demands, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Tell me how much you love my cock inside you."

A whimper escapes your lips as you struggle to form coherent thoughts. "It's... it's so much," you manage to gasp out. "You fill me so completely, my king."

Steven's hand tightens around your neck, yanking your head back. "Not enough," he snarls. "I want to hear how desperately you crave me. How you ache for my touch when I'm gone."

His words send a shiver down your spine. It's true - despite your initial resistance, you've come to crave Steven's touch during his absences. The intensity of his passion, the way he makes your body sing with pleasure - it's intoxicating. And though you try to fight it, to hold onto memories of your old life, you find yourself sinking into this new life.

"I... I think of you constantly when you're gone," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I dream of your hands on my body, of the way you fill me so completely."

Steven's pace quickens at your words, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. "As you should." he says, his voice strained with exertion but satisfied and proud.

His hand snakes around to your front again, fingers finding your sensitive bud. He circles it roughly, drawing gasps and moans from your lips. The dual sensations of his thick cock pounding into you and his skilled fingers on your clit quickly rebuild the tension in your core.

"Come for me again, little wife," Steven commands. "Show me how much you've missed your king's touch."

Your body obeys, trembling and clenching around him as another orgasm crashes over you. You cry out his name, your fingers grasping desperately at the furs beneath you. Steven groans at the feeling of your inner walls pulsing around him, his thrusts becoming erratic.

With a final thrust, Steven buries himself deep inside you, his body tensing as he reaches his own release. You feel the hot rush of his seed filling you, and a small part of you wonders if this time it will take root. The thought sends a confusing mix of emotions through you - worry, excitement, resignation.

Steven collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the furs. For a moment, the only sound in the room is your mingled panting as you both struggle to catch your breath. His body is slick with sweat, the scent of battle and sex heavy in the air.

Slowly, Steven rolls to the side, pulling you with him so that your back is pressed against his chest. His arm drapes possessively over your waist, holding you close. You can feel his heartbeat thundering against your back, gradually slowing to a steadier rhythm.

"My little wife,” he presses a kiss to your shoulder, “greatest conquest and treasure.”

Steven's arm tightens around your waist, his calloused hand splaying possessively across your stomach. His touch is not gentle or loving, but claiming - a reminder that you belong to him now, body and soul. You feel the scratch of his beard against your shoulder as he speaks, his voice low and commanding.

"You've done well, little wife," he says, his tone more satisfied than affectionate. "You're learning to please your king."

His words send a shiver down your spine - a mix of pride and shame that you've come to associate with his praise. You hate yourself for craving his approval, for the way your body responds so eagerly to his touch. But you can't deny the thrill that runs through you at his words.

Steven's hand moves up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over the nipple. "Soon, you'll give me strong sons," he says, his tone matter-of-fact. "They'll be fierce warriors, like their father. And perhaps a daughter or two, to cement alliances with other clans.”

His words send a chill through you. You imagine a child with Steven's fierce blue eyes and blonde hair, and something stirs in your chest.

"And what of me?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "What am I to you, beyond a vessel for your heirs?"

Steven is silent for a long moment, his hand stilling on your breast. When he speaks, his voice is low and intense. "You are my conquest, my prize," he says. "But you are also my queen. I will defend you and keep you by my side. Your loyalty and devotion will please me greatly."

His words are possessive, but there's an undercurrent of something else - perhaps not quite affection, but a fierce protectiveness that makes your heart race. You feel both comforted and conflicted by his declaration.

Steven's hand resumes its exploration of your body, rough calluses scraping against your sensitive skin. "And in return," he continues, his voice a low rumble against your ear, "you will give me your obedience, your body, and your heart."

You shiver at his words, knowing that he already has more of your heart than you'd like to admit. The life you left behind feels like a distant dream now, fading more with each passing day.

"Yes, my king," you whisper, your voice trembling.

Steven's hand moves to cup your face, turning you to look at him.

"You've pleased me greatly, little wife," he murmurs, his thumb tracing your lower lip. "Perhaps more than I expected when I claimed you."

His words send a flutter through your chest, a warmth you try to suppress. You know you shouldn't crave his approval, shouldn't feel this surge of pride at pleasing him. But you can't help the way your body responds to his touch, the way your heart races at his praise.

Steven leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that's surprisingly soft compared to his earlier ferocity. His beard scratches against your skin as he deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive thoroughness.

When he pulls away, Steven's eyes darken with renewed desire as he regards you. Without a word, he sits up against the headboard, his muscular frame on full display. His hand cups your cheek, guiding you down his body with gentle but insistent pressure.

You know what he wants without him having to speak. Your heart races as you move lower, trailing kisses down his chest and abdomen. His skin is hot beneath your lips, marred here and there with scars from countless battles. You trace one long scar with your tongue, feeling Steven's muscles tense at the sensation.

When you reach his cock, already half-hard again, you hesitate for just a moment. Steven's hand moves to the back of your neck, urging you on. Slowly, you take him into your mouth, your lips stretching around his considerable girth.

Steven groans, a deep rumble that you feel as much as hear. His hand tightens at your nape as you take him deeper, guiding your movements. You hollow your cheeks, sucking as you bob your head up and down his length. His cock swells and hardens fully in your mouth, stretching your jaw.

"That's it, little wife," Steven growls, his voice thick with pleasure. "Show your king how much you truly missed him."

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[bboyplankton]

2019 Playlist

1. A$AP Ferg & MadeinTYO – Wam

2. Action Bronson & The Alchemist – Arnold & Danny

3. Action Bronson & The Alchemist – Descendant of the Stars

4. Akon feat. Skales – Control

5. Akon feat. Olamide – Scammers

6. Alex Isley – Colors

7. Amaal – Coming & Going

8. Anderson .Paak feat. Andre 3000 – Come Home

9. Anderson .Paak feat. Smokey Robinson – Make It Better

10. Ari Lennox – I Been

11. Ari Lennox – Up Late

12. Ariana Grande – fake smile

13. Ariana Grande – in my head

14. Arin Ray feat. Kehlani – Change

15. Arin Ray - ZZZ

16. Asiahn – Like You

17. Asiahn – NOLA

18. August Alsina – Forever and a Day

19. August Alsina – For You

20. Baby Rose – Mortal

21. Beyoncé, Jay-Z & Childish Gambino feat. Oumou Sangaré – Mood 4 Eva

22. Big K.R.I.T – Blue Flame Ballet

23. Big K.R.I.T – Energy

24. Big K.R.I.T – M.I.S.S.I.S.S.I.P.P.I

25. BJ the Chicago Kid feat. JID, Buddy, & Kent Jamz – Get Away

26. Blackbear – Sick Of It All

27. The Black Keys – Sit Around And Miss You

28. The Black Keys – Tell Me Lies

29. Bobby Sparks ii feat. Robert “Sput” Searight & MonoNeon – The Comanche Are Coming

30. Boogie – Live 95

31. Boogie feat. Snoh Aalegra – Time

32. Burna Boy feat. Jeremih & Serani – Secret

33. Che Ecru – That’s My Baby

34. Ciara – Greatest Love

35. Ciara – Set

36. Ciara – Trust Myself

37. City and Colour – Mountain of Madness

38. Col3trane, DJDS, & Raye – The Fruits

39. Conway the Machine – Half of It

40. DaBaby – Bop

41. DaBaby – Goin Baby

42. DaBaby – Suge

43. Daniel Caesar & Brandy – Love Again

44. Danny Brown – Dirty Laundry

45. Danny Brown – Savage Nomad

46. Dave East – Mama I Made It

47. Dave East – The Marathon Continues (Nipsey Tribute)

48. Dave East – Me & Mines

49. Denzel Curry – Speedboat

50. Devin Morrison – Bussin’

51. Devin Morrison feat. Dahvi – It’s Time

52. DJ Shadow – If I Died Today

53. DJ Shadow feat. Run The Jewels – Kings & Queens

54. DJ Shadow feat. De La Soul – Rocket Fuel

55. Doja Cat – Say So

56. Doja Cat – Streets

57. Dreamville feat. Ty Dolla $ign & Dreezy – Got Me

58. Dreamville feat. JID & T.I. – Ladies, Ladies, Ladies

59. Dreezy feat. Jeremih – Ecstasy

60. E-40 feat. Quavo Roddy Ricch, A$AP Ferg, & ScHoolboy Q – Chase the Money

61. E-40 – Imma Find Out

62. E-40 feat. Redman, Method Man, & Bosko – Keep On Gassin

63. Earthgang feat. T-Pain – Tequila

64. Earthgang feat. Kehlani – Trippin

65. Elhae – fXXX

66. Elhae – I.D.B.I.L

67. Elhae feat. Big K.R.I.T – Sanctuary

68. Emotional Oranges – Someone Else

69. Emotional Oranges – West Coast Love

70. Emotional Oranges – Your Best Friend Is A Hater

71. Eric Bellinger – iPod on Shuffle

72. Eric Bellinger feat. K Camp – Moist

73. Eric Bellinger – Run It Up

74. Eric Bellinger – The Sexy Song

75. Eric Bellinger – Spice

76. Eric Bellinger feat. Chris Brown & OG Parker – Type a Way

77. Eric Bellinger – Undress

78. Esperanza Spalding – Touch in Mine (Fingers)

79. Fabolous feat. Jacquees – My Mind

80. Fabolous feat. Ty Dolla $ign – Ooh Yea

81. FKA twigs – Mirrored Heart

82. Freddie Gibbs & Madlib feat. Killer Mike & Pusha T – Palmolive

83. Freddie Gibbs & Madlib – Soul Right

84. Free Nationals – Lester Diamond

85. Free Nationals feat. Syd – Shibuya

86. Free Nationals feat. Mac Miller & Kali Uchis – Time

87. Future – Crushed Up

88. Gallant – Céline

89. Gallant – Sleep On It

90. The Game – Born 2 Rap

91. The Game feat. 21 Savage – The Code

92. The Game feat. Anderson .Paak – Stainless

93. Gang Starr feat. J. Cole – Family And Loyalty

94. Gang Starr feat. Ne-Yo & Nitty Scott – Get Together

95. Gary Clark Jr. – I Got My Eyes on You (Locked & Loaded)

96. GoldLink feat. WaveIQ – Spanish Song

97. GoldLink feat. Tyler, the Creator & Jay Prince – U Say

98. Griselda – Freddie HotSpot

99. Gucci Mane – Move Me

100. Isabella – Tag

101. Jacquees – Fact Or Fiction

102. Jacquees – Good Lovin

103. Jaden – Got It

104. Jeezy – White Keys

105. Jidenna feat. GoldLink – Babouche

106. Jidenna – Sou Sou

107. Jidenna – Vaporiza

108. Jim Jones feat. Maino & Drama – My Era

109. Jim Jones feat. Cam’ron, Guordan Banks, Benny the Butcher, & Conway the Machine – To Whom it May Concern

110. Joell Ortiz – Jamaican Food

111. Joell Ortiz – Sip Slow

112. Johnta Austin – Breakin Rules

113. Justine Skye – Secrets

114. Kalin White – 4 sexonds

115. Kaytranada feat. GoldLink, Eight9Fly, & Ari Pensmith – Vex Oh

116. Kehlani – Feels

117. Kehlani feat. 6lack – RPG

118. Khalid – Paradise

119. Khalid – Talk

120. Kiana Ledé feat. Jenifer Lewis – Heavy

121. Kiana Ledé – If You Hate Me

122. Kxng Crooked & Bronze Nazareth feat. Tristate & L.A.D – French Connection

123. Kirk Brown – Vibes Up

124. Koffee feat. Jane Macgizmo – Blazin

125. Konshens – Back It Up

126. Konshens – Last Wine

127. Kyle Dion – Hands to Yourself

128. Kyle Dion – Spend It

129. Larry June feat. Premo Rice – Booty Girl Club

130. Larry June – Early Bird

131. Larry June – Organic Smiles

132. Layton Greene – Never Knew

133. Lion Babe feat. Leikeli47 – The Wave

134. Lion Babe feat. Raekwon – Western World

135. Lophiile – Late Ass

136. Lophiile feat. Jesse Boykins III – You’re Gonna Need It

137. Lophiile – You’ve Changed

138. Lucky Daye – Love You Too Much

139. Lucky Daye – Real Games

140. Lyfe Jennings – Baby

141. Mac Ayers feat. Uhmeer – Fears

142. Mac Ayers – Get Away

143. Mahalia – Karma

144. Mahalia – What Am I?

145. Mahalia feat. Ella Mai – What You Did

146. Marc E. Bassy – Crash and Burn

147. Marc E. Bassy – Where We’re From

148. Matt Martians – Movin’ On

149. Maxo Kream feat. Megan Thee Stallion – She Live

150. Megan Thee Stallion feat. Da Baby – Cash S**t

151. Mereba – Stay Tru

152. Moonchild – Strength

153. Murs, 9th Wonder, & The Soul Council - Sin

154. Murs, 9th Wonder, & The Soul Council – Unicorn Glitter

155. Nikki Jean – Driver

156. Nikki Jean feat. Lupe Fiasco – Mr. Clean

157. Papoose feat. DJ Premier – Numerical Slaughter

158. Pardison Fontaine – Money Machine

159. Pardison Fontaine – Under8ed

160. PJ Morton – Kid Again

161. PJ Morton feat. JoJo – Say So

162. Post Malone – I’m Gonna Be

163. Problem Child – Whole Heart

164. Quinn XCII feat. Yoshi Flower – Werewolf

165. Rapsody feat. Queen Latifah – Hatshepsut

166. Rapsody feat. D’Angelo & GZA – Ibtihaj

167. Rapsody feat. Elle Varner – Michelle

168. Raveena – Nectar

169. Raveena – Salt Water

170. Rex Orange County – Always

171. Rex Orange County – It Gets Better

172. Rick Ross – Fascinated

173. Rick Ross feat. Drake – Gold Roses

174. Rick Ross feat. Summer Walker – Summer Reign

175. Rick Ross – Vegas Residency

176. R.LUM.R – Happy

177. R.LUM.R – Lies

178. Roses Gabor feat. Sampha – Illusions

179. Rotimi – Love Riddim

180. Rotimi – Way Gone

181. Sabrina Claudio – Truth Is

182. Sammie – Issues

183. Sara Bareilles – Armor

184. ScHoolboy Q feat. Kid Cudi – Dangerous

185. ScHoolboy Q – Numb Numb Juice

186. Shal Marshall – Mas Forever

187. Shal Marshall – Splinters

188. Shwayze – Rich City

189. Sinead Harnett – Be The One (Interlude)

190. SiR feat. Smino – LA Lisa

191. SiR feat. Kadhja Bonet – New Sky

192. Slum Village feat. Dwele – Call Me

193. Snoh Aalegra – Nothing to Me

194. Snoh Aalegra – Toronto

195. Snoop Dogg feat. Swizz Beatz – Countdown

196. Snoop Dogg feat. Marknoxx – I Wanna Thank Me

197. Snoop Dogg feat. Russ & Wiz Khalifa – Take Me Away

198. Solange – Almeda

199. Solange – Dreams

200. Steve Lacy – N Side

201. Steve Lacy – Playground

202. Summer Walker – Wasted

203. T-Pain feat. Tory Lanez – Getcha Roll On

204. Tayla Parx – Me vs. Us

205. Tayla Parx feat. Joey Bada$$ - Rebound

206. The Teskey Brothers – Rain

207. The Teskey Brothers – Sun Come Ease Me In

208. Tinashe – Feelings

209. Tobi lou feat. Erica Rene & Cam O’bi – That Old Nu-Nu

210. Tobi lou – Waterboy

211. Tori Kelly – Kid I Used To Know

212. Toro y Moi – Freelance

213. Toro y Moi – Ordinary Pleasure

214. Tory Lanez – Blowin’ Mine’s // Leah’s Introduction

215. Tory Lanez feat. Ludacris – The Fargo Splash

216. Trey Songz – Jill (Sumn Real)

217. Trina feat. Rico Love – Water

218. Tryezz – Walnut St. Dub

219. Tsu Surf – Killing Me

220. Tyler, the Creator - Earfquake

221. Tyler, the Creator – I Think

222. Umi – Sukidakara

223. Vedo – Do It Nasty

224. Wale feat. Jeremih – On Chill

225. Weezer – Happy Together

226. Willow – Time Machine

227. Wiz Khalifa feat. Young Deji – Gold Bottles

228. Xavier Omär & Sango – Cry & Lie

229. Xavier Omär & Sango feat. Billy Mercury – Keeping Me

230. YBN Cordae feat. Anderson .Paak – RNP

231. YBN Cordae feat. Meek Mill – We Gon Make It

232. Ye Ali feat. DCMBR – All About You

233. Ye Ali – Rehearsal

234. Ye Ali feat. DCMBR – Show Me

235. Ye Ali feat. DCMBR & Rainy Milo – Songs2Get2GetDrunk2

236. Yelawolf – Box Chevy 7

237. Yelawolf – Unnatural Born Killer

238. Young M.A. – Stubborn Ass

239. Zacari – Midas Touch

240. 2 Chainz – Threat 2 Society

[abatelunare]

Improbabile ninja

Chris Farley era un attore comico dalla stazza notevole. La sua filmografia conta dieci sole pellicole. Perché lui è morto a 33 anni. Non ho capito bene di cosa. Si parla di attacco di cuore. Ma non escludono c'entri la droga. Uno dei suoi film è Beverly Hills ninja, da noi tradotto con Mai dire ninja. Il protagonista, Haru, è stato raccolto piccolissimo da una comunità ninja. Crescendo si è rivelato un ciccione simpatico ma imbranato e inadatto alle arti marziali. Avrà modo di riscattarsi. Non c'è molto da dire su questa commedia d'azione. Farley interpreta un personaggio goffo e divertente. Lui ce la mette tutta, ma riesce a combinare solo disastri. Non c'è molto altro da dire. A parte una cosa. Nei panni del suo sensei troviamo un attore comparso in altre pellicole d'azione. Si tratta del sudcoreano Soon-tek Oh. Lo si è visto in 007 L'uomo dalla pistola d'oro, Missing in Action 2, Countdown dimensione zero e Il giustiziere della notte 4. La versione italiana di Wikipedia non mi ha saputo dire altro. Quindi dovrete accontentarvi.

[fereality-indy]

As most know the Teen Titans is my favorite team in the DC universe and have been since the  Marv Wolfman and George Pérez era. Heck, I even somewhat based the Gravity Heroes off of them. 

Now I love the cartoon, but It seems that people (DC included) seem to think of them or Damien’s little brood as the Teen Titans. I know there is the Titans comic and the live-action Titans tv series, it still seems like they focus on the same Titans (Robin/Nightwing, Starfire, Beast Boy, & Raven). I’m not saying this is bad, they are easily my third favorite iteration of the team (the post Countdown team & the Atom’s team take the first two spots). I’m just reminding people that there are more Titans then those four.

=========================================================

First Row: Arsenal (Roy Harper), Tempest (Garth), Troia (Donna Troy), Kid Flash (Wally West), Nightwing (Dick Grayson), Omen (Lilith Clay). Hawk (Hank Hall), Dove (Don Hall), & Herald (Mal Duncan) Second Row: Aquagirl (Tula), Gnaark, Joker's Daughter (Duela Dent), Bumblebee (Karen Beecher), Beast Boy (Garfield Logan), Raven (Rachel Roth), Starfire (Koriand'r), Cyborg (Victor Stone), Protector (Jason Hart), & Terra (Tara Markov) Third Row: Jericho (Joseph Wilson), Kole (Kole Weathers), Red Hood (Jason Todd), Danny Chase, Phantasm (Ghost of Danny Chase/Spirits of Azarath/Arella), Pantha (Rosabelle Mendez), Red Star (Leonid Kovar), & Baby Wildebeest Fourth Row: Kid Flash (Bart Allen), Mirage (Miriam Delgado), Terra (Tara Markov - imposter?), Damage (Grant Emerson), Green Lantern (Kyle Rayner), Supergirl (Matrix/Linda Danvers), Ravager (Rose Wilson-Worth), Minion (Jarras Minion), Atom (Ray Palmer), & Argent (Toni Monetti) Fifth Row: Prysm (Audrey Spears), Risk (Cody Driscoll), Hot Spot (Isaiah Crockett), Fringe (Unknown), Captain Marvel Jr/CM3 (Freddy Freeman), Jesse Quick (Jesse Chambers), Red Robin (Tim Drake), Superboy (Conner Kent-Kon-El), Wonder Girl (Cassie Sandsmark), & Speedy (Mia Dearden) Sixth Row: Aquagirl (Lorena Marquez), Zatara (Zachary Zatara), Offspring (Luke O'Brien), Dove (Dawn Granger), Hawk (Holly Granger), Miss Martian (M'gann M'orzz/Megan Morse), Talon (Unknown), Powerboy (Unknown), Bombshell (Amy Allen), & Little Barda (Unknown) Seventh Row: Molecule (Unknown), Young Frankenstein (Unknown), Enigma (Unknown), Mas (Unknown), Menos (Unknown), Osiris (Amon Tomaz), Flamebird (Bette Kane), Proxy (Wendy Harris), Marvin Harris, Red Devil (Eddie Bloomberg), Supergirl (Kara Zor-El), Blue Beetle (Jaime Reyes), & Static (Virgil Hawkins) Eigth Row: Kid Eternity (Christopher Freeman), Robin (Damien Wayne), Solstice (Kiran Singh), Golden Eagle (Charley Parker), Hero Cruz, Bushido (Ryuko Orsono), Anima (Courtney Mason), Lagoon Boy (Zero), Son Of Vulcan (Miguel "Mikey" Devante), & Skitter (Celine Marjorie Patterson) Ninth Row: Magenta (Frances Kane), Bunker (Miguel Jose Barragan), Chimera (Ra’ut L’lwer), Power Girl (Tanya Spears), Kid Flash (Wallace West), Aqualad (Jackson Hyde), Red Arrow (Emiko Queen), Djinn, Roundhouse (Billy Wu), Crush (Xiomara Rojas), & Steel (Natasha Irons)

Reserve/Honorary - Characters who have either been offered membership in the past or are close allies of members of the Teen Titans who could be called to assist in an emergency. Firtst Row: Spoiler (Stephanie Brown), Misfit (Charlotte "Charlie" Gage-Radcliffe), Secret (Greta Hayes), Empress (Anita Fite), Traci 13 (Traci Thirteen), Arrowette (Cissie King-Jones), Black Alice, Terra (Atlee), Teen Lantern, Amethyst (Amy Winston), & Jinny Hex Second Row: Superboy (Jonathon Kent), Zan, Jayna, Stargirl (Courtney Whitmore), Thunder (Gan Williams), Lightning (Tavis Williams), Thunder (Anissa Pierce), Lightning (Jennifer Pierce), Snapper Carr, Chris King, Ray (Raymond C. "Ray" Terril), Jakeem Thunder, & the Pointmen (Blockade, Blank Slate, Gray Lady, Groundswell, Serpenteen, & Short Cut)

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

She definitely went all out and made it the best Christmas ever for him and he loved every second because he just wants to see her happy 🥰

Thank you for reading, sharing and commenting 🩵🩵🩵

Fixer Upper: The Grinch - Mechanic!Curtis x Reader

Summary: You were hoping to spend Christmas with Curtis but appears Christmas might not be his thing

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Fluff! 

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist / AU Masterlist

You loved Christmas, everything about it just made you so warm and cosy inside. All the cute festive sweaters people wore, the fairy lights hanging outside people’s homes, the decorations. All of it just made you so happy and ready to spread festive cheer. You’d always try and pick up extra shifts in the children’s ward to make sure they enjoyed themselves despite their situations.

You were humming a Christmas song as you walked into the garage, expecting to be decked out in Christmas decorations by now. But when you stepped inside you were surprised to find it completely bare of decorations.

“Somebody’s looking festive” Tanya calls out when she spots you.

You smile bashfully “it’s Christmas jumper day but because we have to wear scrubs us nurses have to find other ways,” you say pointing to the antlers you wore and reindeer face paint.

Keep reading

[tretarec]

[Review] Countdown – A hora da sua morte.

E ai, se você pudesse descobrir quando vai morrer… Você gostaria de saber?

Olha, realmente está bem complicado para Hollywood no quesito “fazer um filme de terror digno” nos últimos tempos viu. Os roteiristas até tentam criar umas premissas “inovadoras”, mas na hora de executar, é ai que mora o perigo.

Fui ao cinema movida pela curiosidade de querer saber o quê que “Countdown” no titulo original ou no abrasileirado “A Hora da sua Morte” tinha para me entregar de diferenciado dos outros trezentos milhões de terrores que temos à disposição por ai mas eis que o esquema não é diferente dos demais. A não ser pela premissa de um aplicativo que prevê a hora exata em que você poderá desencarnar. Nos dez a vinte primeiros minutos é uma sacada interessante e poderia render um bom desenvolvimento de roteiro, personagens e outros aspectos se o tal tivesse sido bem escrito e se os personagens estivessem empenhados em fazer algum diferencial que pudesse nos conectar aos mesmos, porém não é o que acontece. O projeto é da produtora americana STX Entertainment com distribuição no Brasil pela Universal Pictures.

O protagonismo desse roteiro que poderia ter dado “um caldo” melhor de sua ideia promissora fica a cargo de Elizabeth Lail (aquela loirinha da primeira temporada de “You” da Netflix) contracenando com os coadjuvantes Tichina Arnold (nossa eterna Rochelle de Todo Mundo Odeia o Chris), Jordan Calloway (de Riverdale), Anne Winters (de 13 Reasons Why), Peter Facinelli (da saga Crepúsculo) que aqui neste ‘A Hora da sua Morte’ interpreta um personagem super caricato e bem descartável fazendo um médico machista e assediador de suas funcionarias do hospital, em especial assediando moral e sexualmente a enfermeira Quinn Harris (Elizabeth Lail) e fechando o elenco principal temos a ótima e uma das atuais ‘Scream Queen’ (rainha do terror) da indústria americana, Talitha Bateman (de Annabelle – A criação do Mal) que desempenha na medida do possível seu papel de irmã da “heroína” do filme nas partes em que o roteiro tenta inseri-la no contexto do enredo onde o subtexto coloca situações de drama e perda familiar na tentativa de dar ‘camadas de profundidade’ às situações que seus personagens enfrentam diante das aparições assombrosas que os atormentam.

E é ai que o roteiro começa a sair do eixo jogando cenas desnecessárias de jumpscares que não causam tanto impacto como o diretor e roteirista Justin Dec, aqui na sua estreia em longa-metragem, imaginava que nos daria. E falando em jumpscares, esses tais sustos são tão previsíveis e tão datados que já ficamos na expectativa do momento que a entidade vai saltar na câmera e quando não saltam em imagem, o susto vem através dos sons da trilha sonora na mixagem de som. Dei alguns pulinhos da cadeira do cinema sim, não vou mentir, porém depois fiquei entediadíssima assistindo aquela mistura de “Premonição” (franquia de sucesso dos anos 2000) com “Quando um estranho Chama” (2006).

Tendo em vista que “Countdown” é um projeto de baixo orçamento onde só foram captados 6,5 milhões de dólares para sua realização não era de esperar muita coisa, se bem que existem outros filmes de baixíssimo orçamento que conseguiram desempenhar uma história eficiente e rendeu números altíssimos em bilheteria (é o caso do recente “Corra” de 2017 do diretor Jordan Peele que recebeu apenas US$ 4,5 milhões de orçamento e faturou 150 milhões mundialmente e cujo roteiro lhe rendeu um Oscar de melhor roteiro original em 2018, tornando-o o primeiro negro a receber o prêmio na categoria). Até o fechamento desta pauta, “A Hora da sua Morte” arrecadou 41,6 milhões de dólares nas bilheterias. Ah e para quem não sabe… O app é real mesmo viu! Você baixa-lo na Play Store do seu Android ou Ios no Iphone. O longa estreou no Brasil dia 27 de fevereiro e segue em cartaz nos cinemas.

E ai, se você pudesse descobrir quando vai morrer… Você gostaria de saber?

[pangeanews]

Il vero 007 è lui! Storia di Peter Fleming, il fratello dell’inventore di James Bond, uno scrittore di genio

Countdown nel mondo inglese per l’uscita di 007 No Time to Die. Uscirà a fine anno. BBC infioretta raccontando che Billie Eilish (sì, la tenerella di Everything I wanted) ha lanciato la canzone che sarà la sigla dell’ultimo 007. Il testo tradotto qui e là dice: Avrei dovuto sapere che me ne sarei andata. Sono caduta davanti a una bugia. Sei morte o paradiso? Ora non mi vedrai piangere. È che non c’è tempo di morire.

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Complimenti, clap clap. Siamo riusciti a far passare Bond dalla parte degli emo: Il sangue che versi è il sangue che mi devi. Sono stato stupida ad amarti? Non avevo pensato alle conseguenze? Per BBC si tratta di romantic betrayal. Tradimento romantico. Sarà. A me pare il solito modo di sguinzagliare il marketing dietro alla società pop dei giovani per portare più gente in sala. Gli inglesi sanno farlo con garbo e senza scrupoli.

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Eppure. Nel 2006, quando Craig esordiva con Casino Royale, la voce della canzone in sigla era Chris Cornell (You know my name): Se prendi una vita devi sapere cosa darai, sono occasioni che vanno e vengono, ecco. Quando scoppia la tempesta sarai con me, dalla parte di quelli senza pietà che ho tradito. Ho visto angeli cadere da altezze accecanti, e tu non sei nulla di così divino. Sei solo qui accanto. Armati perché nessuno ti salverà. Le occasioni ti tradiranno. E io ti rimpiazzerò… Il sangue più freddo scorre nelle mie vene. Sai il mio nome. Prova a nascondere la tua mano. Dimentica come si sentono le emozioni. Ben altro rispetto a Billie Eilish…

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Anche nel 2008, con Quantum of Solace, la voce femminile di Alicia Keys (Another way to die) spaccava così all’inizio: Un’altra chiamata dalla regina, il dito scorre liscio sul grilletto. Un’altra chiamata da una lingua d’oro che ti avvelena la fantasia. Un altro conto da un killer ti ha fatto passare dal thriller alla tragedia… Sentire la musica in luoghi fuori contesto aiuta. Credo si chiami straniamento: che ne so, provate a sentire le canzoni di Bond in un’altra prospettiva.

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Comunque, qui da noi c’è sempre un po’ il rischio che essere fan di 007 sia roba da ispettore della guardia di finanza, un tocco da sfigati. Nel Regno Unito invece è il solito movimento di massa. Se guardi 007 capisci le loro tendenze, o almeno ne catturi un’istantanea. Lo spiega benissimo il solito Anthony Burgess in un articolo di Life del febbraio 1987. Titolo – Giubileo di Bond. A venticinque anni dal Dottor No, che era il cattivone del primo film uscito nel 1962.

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Col consueto intuito da sciacallo onnivoro, Burgess annota che il personaggio dell’agente 007 “apparve sulla scena al momento giusto, quando CIA umiliava MI5… Bond invece era patriottico, duro, coraggioso e non veniva da un’ascesi da doccia fredda. Ricordava al lettore britannico le qualità che sembravano andate perdute. Fleming sognò uno spionaggio più ingegnoso, osò di più rispetto alla realtà e diede infine al suo uomo la licenza di uccidere”.

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Peter Fleming nel Mato Grosso, 1932

Non si fa mancare il sale: “l’eterosessualità di Bond è vigorosa e viaggia in un’altra classifica. Il suo sangue scozzese gli garantisce un integro patriottismo”. E neanche il pepe: “I professori di francese non sapranno dirci a cosa si deve il nome Bond. Non sembra un richiamo al bondage per quanto bond suggerisca che il nostro uomo sia legato a qualcosa – onore, patria, una qualche virtù astratta. Fleming scelse questo nome perché era abbastanza blando e per niente aggressivo”.

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In realtà Burgess sa come stanno le cose, gioca a carte col lettore. Ecco da dove viene il nome in codice, l’unico che vale: “Il nome 007 si deve al carro postale notturno di una piccola ma celebre storia di Kipling, e a sua volta Kipling lo aveva preso dal codice che l’astrologo John Dee usava per i suoi dispacci spionistici alla regina Elisabetta quando era infiltrato alla corte spagnola. Mentre osa il tutto per tutto al servizio di Sua Maestà la regina, James Bond evoca nell’era di Elisabetta II il glamour e il pericolo del regno di Elisabetta I”. Se volete leggere qualcosa su John Dee, c’è L’angelo della finestra d’Occidente, di Gustav Meyrink. Stampa nientepopodimeno che Adelphi.

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Burgess aveva lavorato alla sceneggiatura di La spia che mi amava, l’unico libro di Fleming scritto dal punto di vista femminile. Quindi sa cosa sta dicendo quando scrive che “nei libri di 007 il sesso è tenerezza, nei film è mero titillare… I libri sono deboli per psicologia umana, un poco impacciati nel dialogo, assurdi per trama e non hanno humour ma sono ben scritti e francamente affidabili per la loro informazione di background. L’agenzia di controspionaggio sovietica Smersh esiste, Spectre no”.

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Traduco il finale del pezzo di Burgess, la chiave affilata del discorso che stavo cercando di fare all’inizio: “Vorrei porre l’accento su questo: le stravaganze di Bond rappresentano un genere speciale di intrattenimento dove la fantasia del produttore di film ha il permesso di varcare il limite e tutto è racchiuso in una macchina perfetta, in una lezione di morale. Sono film a tutto tondo allo stesso modo di quelli Disney ma, diversamente da questi, sono sofisticati e non possono esser presi senza accettare al contempo il mondo delle alte sfere con la sua genuina malevolenza e quel che si dice ‘stato dell’arte tecnologica’. Le ragazze sono sexy e Bond parte con loro con lo sguardo lascivo da giocatore di football americano. Ma non ci sono orgasmi: sono riservati alle fughe da pericoli impossibili. C’è anche qualcosa che chiamerei urbanità, buone maniere e ironia (Prenda con sé Mr Bond e lo metta in condizioni di farsi del male). C’è il senso di una civiltà ben oliata, i nemici restano fuori, in un mondo a parte maniaco e malvagio. È probabile che in futuro gli storici troveranno nei film di Bond i sogni dei suoi contemporanei, uomini e probabilmente anche donne. L’intrattenimento a volte può servire uno scopo più profondo di quel che i suoi sostenitori sono in grado di dirci”.

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A questo punto, domanda sensata. Chi era il creatore di Bond, Ian Fleming? Era un fratello minore, tanto per cominciare. Il più grande era Peter, classe 1907, che a 29 anni affronta un viaggio in Tibet e Cina per conto dei Servizi esteri insieme a una fotografa svizzera. Da capogiro. Insomma Peter è il sostegno del fratellino, anche se poi Ian farà gavetta in guerra nel controspionaggio e si inventerà un agente fighissimo, da romanzo, per darsi un tono.

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Ian ha solo un anno in meno del fratellone. Per Burgess “era uno scozzese godereccio toccato da un puritanesimo ancestrale, beveva martini vodka agitato non mescolato, fumava sempre le sigarette più pesanti sul mercato e, prima del suo ultimo matrimonio, faceva l’amore in modo freddo e promiscuo”. Sarà… comunque campa fino al 1964. Il fratellone, più sano e robusto, se ne va nel 1971 e fa scrivere al giornalista del NY Times “ebbe una carriera poco convenzionale nella Seconda guerra servendo nella Guardia Granatieri dopo il ritiro dalla Norvegia nel 1940, organizzando una linea di resistenza a Hitler in Inghilterra con armi ed esplosivi nel caso i tedeschi fossero sbarcati. Lo stesso in Grecia dopo l’occupazione tedesca. Poi andò in Asia per far sgomberare le truppe dalla Birmania in India e trasmise ai giapponesi dei piani di guerra. Chiaramente, erano falsificati. Sulla sua resistenza a Hitler scrisse il romanzo Invasione 1940”. In effetti anche gli altri titoli sono fantastici: Sconfitta a Pechino, Baionette fino a Ihasa, Il destino dell’ammiraglio Kolchak.

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A breve potremo gustare qualcosa di questo scrittore. Nutrimenti aveva già dato la sua Avventura brasiliana e tra poco sarà rieditata. È la storia autoironica di Peter che va nella foresta amazzonica a 26 anni in cerca di un esploratore scomparso e torna a mani vuote. Fine dei tempi eroici dell’imperialismo: anche se erano entrambi, Peter e il suo compagno di viaggio, il bischero Percy Fawcett, figli di college e di Impero.

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Per i fratelli Fleming, invece, qualche brivido dickensiano & massonico, ma poco di più. Quindi anche lo sguardo è a suo modo limitato, specie negli scritti-reportage di Peter sulla Rivolta del Boxer, di cui parlano ampiamente, con sapidi racconti, anche le memorie dei diplomatici italiani in loco. Il tutto passando per il Tibet. Forse c’era nei Fleming qualche interesse verso le tradizioni esoteriche che titillavano la poca cervice tedesca: vedere per credere l’introduzione di Peter a I sette anni in Tibet di Heinrich Harrer.

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Comunque sia, va detto che la pappa verbale inglese non si presta a raccontare la geopolitica. L’inglese funziona bene però come lingua avventurosa e Peter resta scrittore migliore del fratellino Ian. Ecco ad esempio come incomincia il testo che lesse dopo il viaggio in Asia a 27 anni, nel 1936 (ora su The Geographical Journal, vol. 88 agosto 1936): “In questi giorni immagino sia piuttosto inconsueto che le forze militari adottino una procedura che le porti a impegnare il loro potere di guerra in un territorio che appartenga a un altro potere senza che un governo dica nulla all’altro prima dell’evento. Eppure i russi sono molto abili a gestirla così, principalmente soffiando tutt’intorno storie falsissime e lasciandole depositare nelle varie province, senza consentire ad altre versioni dei fatti di entrare nelle province manipolate”. Non male, dai…

Andrea Bianchi

L'articolo Il vero 007 è lui! Storia di Peter Fleming, il fratello dell’inventore di James Bond, uno scrittore di genio proviene da Pangea.

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4 NEW on the Chart this week... #087 Good For You #103 High And I Like It #110 Afterglow #150 Kissing Strangers