#i’m so obsessed with him it’s actually becoming painful

[alltheothercoolnamesaretake-blog]

Why I Think Carmy Will Quit The Bear In The End (and how this ties in with Sydney)

***WARNING-SPOILERS FOR SEASON 1 & 3***

I believe that the show is trying to subvert expectations on what will occur with Carmy and his character arc. When watching Season 1, you expect that he will eventually get over his traumas by lifting up this new restaurant. He will find new friends and eventually become a better version of himself by cooking there. However, I think that Carmy will end up walking away from The Bear by the end of the show. 

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REPLICATING OLD TRAUMAS

Although changing The Beef to The Bear seems like a fresh start for Carmy, he gradually makes it into his old abusive workplace throughout Season 3. Instead of lifting up The Beef, he is forcing it to become The Bear. Although this seems like a good change at first, this is actually him replicating the environment of his old abusive workplace. Except this time, he has become David. 

At first, his outbursts seem reasonable. They seem like accidents, something that could be explained by the actions of others. But over the seasons, the abuse ramps up more and more. Even though he has become friends with all of these people in the past through The Beef, these relationships are being eroded away because of his increasing obsession with control in Season 3. For example, he insists on checking every meal that goes out just like his boss did in the past. He continuously refuses to trust the people around him, and lashes out to everyone. 

I think this is because he views David unconsciously as a role model for what a boss should be. Even though he resented him, he unintentionally absorbed the idea that David’s abuse was what made him a better cook. This is why he was so shaken up in Season 3 when he confronts David on his abuse, because he actually agrees with him. 

Because of this toxic mindset, it has seeped into how he interacts with the people around him. He has failed to become better, because he has never been able to properly confront how he has been altered by his traumas. Carmy will not be able to improve under these circumstances, but instead become progressively worse as his past traumas influence how he is today. He needs space and time away from a kitchen in order to truly recognize the abuse that had been done to him. 

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2. THE BEAR IS MIKEY 

The Beef has always been deeply connected to Mikey in Carmy’s eyes. He wanted to work there because of Mikey, and always viewed it as a place where he could connect with his brother. But I theorize that The Bear may actually have become a proxy to Mikey to Carmy.

In Season 1, Episode 8, Carmy has a surreal dream sequence where he is hosting a cooking show. Within it, he starts to break down and starts to flash back into a memory of his brother. 

It then cuts to a clip of a bear locked in a cage on a bridge (which may reference back to Mikey’s death on the bridge). The clip is overlaid with a line from Mikey, which is “I’m right here.” 

This bear is one of the main inspirations behind the renaming of The Beef. It then flashes to the drawing of the restaurant, The Bear. 

Later, he finds the note and the money from Mikey. This is what encouraged him to renovate The Beef into a new restaurant. I think that this represents him feeling like he can find Mikey again through The Bear. Although this is a positive influence on him at first, this grows increasingly more negative throughout the seasons. By feeling like Mikey is there within the restaurant, his grief was able to be comforted a bit. But this causes his relationship to The Bear to become more and more codependent. He has not actually confronted his grief over Mikey yet, but instead uses The Bear to try and soothe the pain. This causes him to choose The Bear against all else, including his girlfriend Claire. 

Even though he has improved by going to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, he is only passively listening to the people around him instead of sharing more about himself. Although he did reach a breakthrough in Season 1 by sharing with the group about Mikey, his development has stagnated over time because he uses The Bear as a way to muffle his pain. To truly get over his grief, he has to move away from The Bear and face it without the presence of Mikey standing over him.

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3. CARMY AND COOKING

In Season 3, Episode 1, that is where we see Carmy experience the most joy out of cooking. 

In the various apprenticeships that he goes through, he is free to experiment and do whatever he wants with it. Ultimately, I believe that Carmy will never thrive in a restaurant setting, even if he was the boss. He might have thought that his love of cooking was hampered because of his past abusive boss, but in reality it was because of the restaurant itself. The pressure of making a profit and earning recognition from reviews will destroy him in the end. This is mainly seen through his fixation on the flexibility of the menu in Season 3. In the first episode, he flashes back to what he enjoyed about cooking (which included experimentation and testing) which inspired him to make a new menu every day. He wants to recapture the joy that he felt in the past. However, this harms the restaurant by driving up the margins and causing chaos. The restaurant is not something that he enjoys, but instead an intense source of stress for him. Carmy indeed loves cooking, but needs to form a more healthy relationship to it. Just like how artists can get burnt out on monetizing their art, he is burnt out on monetizing his cooking skills. The restaurant will never be a good place for him to show his art, as it is a business that supports dozens of people. I think that ultimately, he will become Chef Terry, who retired from her restaurant because she couldn’t handle the stress anymore. 

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4. SYDNEY

Sydney will be the one who inherits The Bear and truly makes it great. She is the one who really keeps The Bear together throughout Season 3, and has the clearest vision. She represents a new way forward, one unencumbered by Carmy. Sydney has already been framed as his protege throughout the seasons. And as her mentor, Carmy is destined to leave so that Sydney can ultimately prove herself. Carmy has become more of an antagonist throughout the season, while Sydney is slowly replacing his role as a protagonist. I predict that Sydney will accept the offer from Adam, but come back once Carmy can’t take it anymore. Then, she will show once and for all that she is capable of running the restaurant by herself.  Only then can there be a future for Carmy and Sydney going forward.

Right now, their relationship is tied to the The Bear. They have not really interacted outside of it. Only then can they form a real relationship and really connect to one another. Right now, their relationship is too centered around the restaurant for them to really fall in love with one another.

(Marrying into the Berzatto family WOULD ALSO MAKE HER A BEAR. Therefore, this could allow for The Bear to stay within the hands of a BEAR)

[nervousyoungtwinfantasydog]

yikes

[bucks-babe]

Let Me Be of Service

Pairing: Husband!Bucky x Pregnant!Wife!reader

Summary: With your growing belly, it gets a lot harder to take care of yourself. Luckily, your husband is always willing to lend a helping hand

Warnings: Fluff, a little smut, reader is heavily preggo, established relationship, Bucky is down bad, Bucky shaves his girl’s cooch and boot, crack fic, embarrassing stories about each other, implied smut at the end, banter, Bucky calls reader Petal and she calls him Duckie

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: A little something something to hold you guys over while I’m working on part 2 of Change My Ways For You. Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading; however, any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone.

You hear the clashing of pans in the kitchen followed by your husband’s curse. It brings a smile to your lips, knowing that he is trying to make you breakfast in bed, even though he is probably the worst cook you have ever met. When you first started dating, he made the joke that he was the only person that could start a fire with water. 

You didn’t believe him until he actually did start a fire while boiling water at his first and only attempt to make pasta for the two of you to eat. You still have no idea how he managed to do that, but ever since then it’s either you cook, he ‘helps’ you in the kitchen, which is you giving him the easiest thing to do and hope that he doesn’t blow you up, or you order out.

But ever since you got pregnant, doing everyday tasks has gotten harder. You get out of breath from just standing up. Don’t even start with trying to pick something up off the floor. If it hits the ground, it’s going to stay there until Bucky picks it up if you can’t grip it with your toes. Cooking has become a near impossible task for you. Who knew that carrying a super soldier baby would be so hard? 

Your belly was larger than the average woman’s stomach for how far along you are. It wasn’t just that your belly was big though. It caused so much back pain that it was easier to just lay on your side all day, and your feet ached and pulsed from the shortest walk. 

You felt like a bad wife, not able to help take care of the house, or yourself for that matter. But Bucky was a saint, he doted on you every second of the day. He took his leave of absence as soon as you started grunting while moving around. Bucky loved every minute of it though, albeit he hated seeing you in pain, but every change to your body was incredible to him. He was obsessed with how round you were, how full your breasts are, and the cute little pout that is always on your lips.

So you appreciated Bucky for trying to make you something to eat; although you knew it was going to be disgusting, possibly inedible, you would take it with a smile on your face because he tried and that was something you were grateful for.

You decided to get out of bed, not to take over making breakfast in the fear of burning down your house, of course not, but to watch your man in action. When you shifted, however, it became painfully obvious that you were overdue for a shave. The prickly hairs on your pussy were uncomfortable, making putting your legs together almost painful.

You have no idea when the last time you shaved was. All you knew was that it was when you could still see your feet, and that was a loooonnng time ago. Bucky didn’t seem to mind your body hair. He would still eat you out until you had to roll over from the weight of your belly making it hard to breathe. He never once complained about your public hair and you honestly forgot that you hadn’t shaved in so long, until this moment.

Throwing on Bucky’s henley, grateful that he was so fucking beefy so you could still fit into his shirt, although tight around the belly, and wobbled out to the kitchen. Bucky heard you, your feet heavy on the wood floors. “Petal, you’re going to love this! I made you grilled cheese and guess what?” He spins around, bright smile on his face, a grilled cheese plated in his hands. 

“I have officially made something edible without us having to evacuate the house, AND it’s only slightly burnt.” The early morning sun casts a soft glow on his naked chest. He looked like a Greek god, corded muscles topped with a bit of softness, the result of your cooking and less time with the Avengers. 

“Good job, Duckie. Good thing too because I’m starving. Bug isn’t going to stop kicking my bladder until she gets something to eat.” Crow’s feet bloom around Bucky’s eyes. He falls in love with you harder every day, seeing you carry his baby into the world, keeping her safe in your belly.

Bucky sets the singular grilled cheese at your spot on the table, pulling out the chair for you to sit, strong hands grabbing your waist, making sure you don’t strain yourself too hard. He spins around and gets you a cup of your favorite morning drink and places it in front of you, quickly sitting down opposite you, eagerly waiting for you to take a bite.

“Duckie, aren’t you going to have one, too?” His sweet Petal was too good to him.

“Well, Petal, only one turned out.” He gives you a sheepish smile and you can only giggle at him.

“Do you want half of mine then? I don’t mind sharing.” You were starving your ass off, but you wanted to reward Bucky with something for being so good to you.

He vehemently shakes his head. “Uh, uh, Petal, you and Bug need to eat. I can find something else. Now hurry up and tell me if I meet up to your standards.”

Before you take a bite you reach over the table to grab his right hand, running your fingers over the wedding band there. He couldn’t wear it on his left hand, but you wanted everyone to know that he was yours. “You always exceed my standards, Duck.”

Bucky blushes and gestures for you to have a taste. Your eyes widen as the cheesy snack hits your tongue. “Oh my god, this is actually good!” Bucky leans back in his chair and does a small victory dance, proud of himself for feeding his wife.

His celebration is cut short when he sees you shift in your seat, clearly uncomfortable. “Petal, what’s wrong? Is Bug kicking?” Bucky is by your side in seconds cupping your belly, only to find that Bug isn’t causing a raucous.

“It’s kind of embarrassing.” You look down, away from his prying eyes.

“We have been together for 8 years, Petal. I stood watch while you took a shit on the side of the highway, it can’t be that bad.”

You whip your head around. “Duckie! We don’t talk about that. I told you not to bring that up again. It was one time!” Bucky only laughs and turns his head away.

“Petal, we both know that it was twice and we had to stop by Mcdonalds so you could wash yourself after you wiped with poison ivy.” Bucky was barely containing his laughter, while you were dying of embarrassment. “You know, that was the moment I knew I was going to marry you?”

You scoffed. “When we were stuck on the highway while I popped a squat? That cannot be when you knew you were going to marry me. That is not what you said at the wedding.” 

“Didn’t think that you would appreciate that story being told to all of our friends and family. But your secret is safe with me.”

“Since we are bringing up the past, remember the time you were training with Sam and he hit you in the balls and you pissed yourself. You called me to bring you a new pair of underwear and I made sure no one knew.” You turned your chin up.

“C’mon, Petal, it wasn’t even that much. It was just a dot. And it wasn’t my fault I had a full bladder. Don’t make me bring what happened the other week when you-”

You slapped your hand over his mouth, grabbing him by the back of his head and pulling him close to you. “Don’t. You. Dare. We never mention that again, we forget it ever happened, yeah?”

Bucky moans at your dominance, it never failed to get his cock hard. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop, but you have to tell me what’s got you wobbling in your seat. And I know it’s not because my cooking turned you on.”

You took a deep breath before looking into his eyes. “Promise you won’t laugh?” 

“I can’t promise that, Petal, but I won’t judge you.” Of course, Bucky and you always laughed at each other. Never when it was something serious. But you were able to joke around when the other did something embarrassing, but he would never joke about it if you were uncomfortable.

“My pussy hurts.” You squint your eyes, the grumpiest look on your face, and cross your arms.

“Petal, that’s all you had to say. I’m an expert on taking care of my sweet girl. If I lick her bud would that make it better?” You feel your cunt pulse at his words, but the scratching is too annoying to let you get turned on.

“No, Duckie! I mean my fucking hair is too long and it’s poking me and it fucking hurts and I can’t reach to shave because of this huge belly, and it makes me feel like a sasquatch and I just want to feel pretty.” You almost burst into tears, not knowing that you had so many emotions bubbling under the surface, but then again you were pregnant and couldn’t control them.

“Oh, Petal, you are the most gorgeous woman on this planet, shaven or not. And you don’t need to worry about doing anything for yourself, you hear me? If you wanted me to, I would wipe your ass for you.” You sucked your teeth and slapped his chest.

“I’m being serious!”

“And so am I.” 

Without another word, Bucky picks you up like you weigh nothing and heads to your bedroom and sets you down on the soft covers. “Duckie, what are you doing?” He still doesn’t say anything as he walks into the bathroom to get a towel and your conditioner and sets them on the bed. He leaves the room only to come back a minute later with a bowl of water and his razor. “You cannot be serious right now.”

“Oh, Petal, deathly.” He flicks the towel out and lays it on the edge of the bed and sets you there, your feet planted on either side of you and you’re forced to lay back with your belly.

You don’t see what he is up to, but you feel his hot breath fan across your folds and he groans. “Petal, is this making you wet? Your husband between your legs about to service you?” He chuckles as the twitch of your clit. “Fuck, prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Makes my cock so fucking hard, could cum in my pants just from eating her.”

“Duckie, don’t lie. I know it doesn’t look pretty. Probably could fucking braid it.” You fight the urge to close your legs. You haven’t had sex in almost three weeks, mainly because your body is so exhausted all the time and you know you wouldn’t be able to enjoy it.

“Petal, when have I ever lied to you? You think I would lie straight to my pretty girl’s face? How could I lie right in front of Heaven?” He leans in closer and you hear the deep inhale he takes. “And about that braid comment, I learned how to braid hair in Wakanda so that isn’t a problem for me.”

He gets a giggle out of you. “I can’t fucking believe you. You’re such a dork.” Rather than hear his chuckle, you feel it, his mouth pressed against your cunt, lapping your juices. “Fuck, oh shit, don’t stop.”

“Mmh, so fucking good. Don’t even need to eat breakfast when I have this meal on a fucking platter.” He dives back in, arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place. With his hands occupied with your thighs, you were able to grind against his mouth, urging him to focus on your clit. Bucky was in his own world, the hairs pressing against his face not deterring him in the slightest.

His groan is deep and sends shockwaves up your spine, unable to stop the jerk of your hips. All at once, Bucky lets go of your thighs and turns away to sneeze. With great difficulty, you sit up and stare at him, perplexed. “Duckie, you better not fucking tell me that my pubes make you sneeze or so help me.”

Bucky falls onto his back, clutching his stomach as his laughter rings out in the room. The obvious tent is his pants still there. “I’m sorry, Petal, just tickled my nose is all.” His entire face is red, each word coming out in a wheeze. 

“Duckie, it’s not funny.” Even at your protests, you feel yourself unable to control your laughter. 

“If it’s not funny, then why are you laughing, Petal?” Bucky is finally able to control himself enough to sit up and rest his head on your thigh.

“Because you were laughing. Don’t you dare try and eat me out right now.” You push his forehead away, much to his dismay. “Are you going to shave me or not?” Your pout has him pressing his lips together to stop the giggle from leaving his lips.

“Of course, my hedge.”

“DUCKIE!”

“I’m only joking.” 

You lay back and prop your feet up again, jolting slightly as Bucky runs his hands, dipped in water, over your folds and mound. While slightly more prepared for the conditioner, it still feels foreign to have his hands touching you like this.

“Fuck, Petal, just one more taste.”

“Duckie.”

“Fine.”

He starts with your lips, using one hand to hold them tight, taking extra care not to knick your sensitive skin. “Hey, Duckie?” The only view you have is of the ceiling so you don’t see the absolute concentration on Bucky’s face, tongue poking out, and eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, Petal?”

“Do you think it’s normal that I’m getting turned on by this?” Bucky loved that you were comfortable enough in your relationship to casually talk about random things, knowing that he wouldn’t judge you for them, most of the time he was on the same page as you anyway.

“Probably not, but if it makes you feel any better, I’m solid as a rock right now.” You giggle at his casual tone, almost as if he was asking you how your day was. “Don’t move, I’m performing a delicate operation here.” It only makes you giggle more and Bucky has to pull away, leaning over to the side so you could see his face.

“Okay, I guess I’ll just lay here then.” It was Bucky’s turn to suck his teeth in but doesn’t say anything else.

“Hey, Duckie?” Bucky sighs and begrudgingly answers. “Is that my slick running down my ass or water? I need to know how embarrassed I should be.”

“I could give it a taste and answer you.”

“Ew, no. I probably have little bits of hair everywhere.”

With each stroke of the razor you feel yourself relax more and more. The constant presence of his hands soothing you. Bucky taps your leg to signal that you’re done and picks you up, bending you over the bed. “Duckie, we are not having sex right now.”

“Petal, you know that I am very thorough in everything that I do, and I still have your perfect ass to shave” You groan and bury your face into the covers.

“C’mon, Duck, this is worse than before. I feel so exposed.” Bucky rubs his hand down your spine, his other hand reaching under you to support your belly.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, and I’m going to make my girl feel pretty.” He lands a light slap to your right asscheek and grinds his hips against your cunt once before pulling away.

He works just the same, using one hand to spread you open while carefully removing all your hair. When he’s done he pulls back, one hand cupping each cheek. You huff when he jiggles your ass to his heart’s content, letting him have his reward for taking care of you.

“Duckie! Did you just bite my fucking ass?” 

“Couldn’t help it, Petal, so fucking sexy.” 

You contemplate if you should kick him or kiss him. Your decision is cut short when he rolls you over again, now looking at your face. “Petal, we still have two legs to do and they both lead to my favorite petals.”

Fuck, you were in for it.

[writeriguess]

Can you do Katsuki x fem reader one shot where you fight but it ends in angry sex

The training room was empty, save for the sound of rapid, heavy breathing and the occasional curse. You were tired, sweat pouring down your face, but you refused to back down. Not today.

Katsuki stood a few feet away, his hands clenched into fists, sparks flying from his palms as he glared at you with those fiery crimson eyes. “What the hell was that, [Y/N]?! You were sloppy out there!”

You wiped your brow with the back of your hand, frustration boiling inside you. “I was doing my best, Bakugou! Not everyone can be a goddamn perfectionist like you.”

His eyes narrowed, the corners of his lips curling into a snarl. “Don’t give me that crap. You think villains are gonna go easy on you because you’re tired? Because you’re trying your ‘best’? You’ll be dead before you know it if you don’t start taking this seriously.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of exhaustion and anger making your vision blur. “I am taking this seriously! Maybe if you weren’t such an ass all the time, people wouldn’t be so on edge around you!”

Katsuki stepped closer, his presence almost suffocating as he towered over you. “You think I care about that? I’m not here to make friends; I’m here to win. And so should you, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Maybe that’s your problem,” you shot back, your voice rising. “You’re so obsessed with winning that you’ve forgotten what it means to actually care about someone!”

For a moment, the room was silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Katsuki’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as he stared you down. Then, with a growl, he grabbed your arm, pulling you close. “You think I don’t care?”

Before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours in a bruising, desperate kiss. The force of it knocked the breath out of you, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed closer, your hands gripping his shirt as you kissed him back with equal intensity.

It was a battle for dominance, both of you too stubborn to back down, too hungry for the release only the other could provide. Katsuki’s hands were rough as they slid down your sides, his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes. You gasped as he pushed you against the wall, his body pinning yours as he kissed you harder, deeper, as if trying to prove a point.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” he growled against your lips, his voice thick with desire.

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” you challenged, your own voice breathless, trembling.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. In one swift motion, he hoisted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the nearest surface. The cold metal of the training bench met your back, a stark contrast to the heat of Katsuki’s body as he settled between your legs.

Clothes were discarded hastily, neither of you caring where they ended up as the need to feel each other’s skin became overwhelming. Katsuki’s hands roamed your body with a mix of roughness and care, his touch igniting every nerve as he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, your collarbone, your chest.

When he finally entered you, it was with a single, forceful thrust that made you cry out, your nails digging into his back as your body arched against his. Katsuki didn’t wait for you to adjust, setting a hard, punishing pace that left you breathless, moaning, and completely at his mercy.

Each thrust was a reminder of the fire between you, the passion that neither of you could deny, even when it came out as anger. You matched his intensity, meeting him thrust for thrust, your body demanding as much as he was willing to give.

“Tell me,” he growled into your ear, his voice strained. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, your body tightening around him as you gasped out, “I’m yours, Katsuki. Only yours.”

The admission seemed to spur him on, his movements becoming even more frantic, desperate. He kissed you again, his lips bruising against yours as his hands gripped your hips, pulling you impossibly closer as he drove into you with a force that had you seeing stars.

The pleasure built up inside you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, leaving you trembling and gasping his name. Katsuki followed soon after, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as he buried himself deep inside you, his release sending shockwaves through your already trembling body.

For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing, the aftermath of your passionate encounter settling around you like a warm, comforting blanket. Katsuki didn’t move, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath, his hands still holding you close.

When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, a little less harsh, but still unmistakably Katsuki. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

You smiled, your hand coming up to cup his cheek as you looked into those crimson eyes that were now filled with something softer, something that made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah, but I’m your pain in the ass.”

He huffed, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, more tender. “Damn right you are.”

Requests are open.

[milksuu]

ᴀ ʀᴜʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀꜱʜ & ꜱᴛᴏʀᴍ ───── ♛

pairing: evil!hiccup x f!mute!reader

wc: 1.7k

tw: yandere, implied kidnapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, mention of blood/violence, mention of death

synopsis: You regretted the day they left him for dead. And you’d regret the day you ever saw him again—he’d make sure of that.

A gleam of orange blazed in the bleakness of night.

You watched from your hilltop window—the thatched roofs off the eastern slopes of Berk twisting and writhing in flames. Even from a distance, you heard the breaking moans of ceilings, the cracks and bends of collapsing wooden structures, and the piercing wails of scales met with sharp edges of iron. Despite The Red Death’s fall, dragon raids still plagued the lands.

Perhaps it was all a sign of retribution. 

You were told to stay within the safe confines of your home. Your father hadn’t wanted to risk your life, considering how precious you’d become. The next Seer in line after Gothi, gifted with spiritual wisdom, healing, and authority of officiating the next chief.

But the price to pay had been steep. 

The house was dark, not even the smallest candle lit. Nothing that would draw a glimmer of attention to the home. A creak ached the roof above, and you flitted your nose up to the rafters, drawing lines across the ceiling. Nothing but your shallow breaths filled the silent dark. 

The hearth then erupted with flame and spark, jolting you from back to neck bone. Had you any voice, a strangled scream would’ve ripped from your throat. Twisting, you had almost forgotten to breathe. A figure shrouded in shadow and leather stood beside the crackling firewood. Light and dark danced in an undulating battle across the strangers’ features–revealing a horrifying familiarity.

“Hope you don’t mind if I warm this place up a bit.” That voice, boy-ish in tone, lacked any hint of innocence or niceties. He stretched a gloved hand towards the licking flames, doing nothing to warm the ice coating his insides. “Couldn’t help but notice you looked a little cold and...alone.”

A snap of wood made you flinch; addressing him with quivering lips and dilated eyes. Your long-lost greeting didn’t forebode well.

Every piece of leather tightened around his body as he shifted. Turning to ensnare you within his talon like stare. When embers casted a sheen across his face, you braced against the sight. Soft features long since abandoned, reforged into a visage of cold iron. Carved and littered with scars and nicks across his furrowed brows, cheeks, and clenched jaw line.

“Well, this is kind of embarrassing. Wait, no. That’s not the word I was looking for. More like—disappointing. That sounds like a better fit. For you and everyone else here.” Hiccup stalked forward, a contraption of metal clanking and scratching against the splintering floors. Each step clanged through you, until he stood one heartbeat away. “After all these years, I’d thought you’d have a bit more to say than a blank stare. Every night, I dreamed about how this conversation would go. Just like how I dreamed things could be better than what they were. Funny how you can plan for things to go a certain way, but then…”

He pressed his hands at each side of your head, the glass window behind begging to crack from the pressure. His scent permeated, forcing you to swallow. Once smelling of spring honey and rolling glades, now sundered to singe your senses like bone ash and lightning storms. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s a little different.” He placed a calloused finger into the dip of your clavicle. He dug and dug until your pained gasp fell deaf to his ears. Tilting his head, he curled the lip of his mouth. “So, just like Gothi, you gave up your voice. Good—great, actually. This works out better for me.” 

The smile that crept over his lips never made it up to his eyes. Not like before. Those vibrant meadows sullied into a sickly, muddled green. Thick and ichorous. And dared you stare long enough, you could never trudge your way out. Although you already felt stuck within them, your hand slipped silently into the pocket of your dress, where your fingers brushed against the hilt of a dagger. 

You drew it a mere inch before his hand captured yours, twisting until he pried it into his possession.

“Come on. We both know you were never good at fighting.” He chuckled, wagging the sharpest point between your trembling eyes. “I’ll admit it. I wasn’t either back then. That’s something we had in common…until I had to be. Guess that didn’t work out in anyone’s favor on this wet piece of rock. Now, did it?”

Your vision blurred. Screams of the village roared in your ears. Screeches of dragons pierced through the air, engulfed in smoke and fire. Having consumed so much in its wake, you felt the heat of chaos leech into the glass. Searing your back pressed against it.

“Woah. Hey, don’t cry. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he swept a rough thumb over a falling tear stain. “Not all of them will die tonight. I mean, just think about it for a second. Can’t be chief and rule over a bunch of burnt corpses. How counterintuitive would that be?” 

“As for you though…” he continued, and your heart stalled as he traced the cold metal down your flush cheek and neck, pausing just above your breastbone. “I’m only standing here, watching everything and everyone turn to ash around us, all because of you. And don't tell me you don't remember. When you mended my leg. Somehow kept me from bleeding out. Just before the entire village abandoned me.” His clouded eyes narrowed down. “Including you.”

Releasing you from his pinning weight, your legs wobbled. As if he hadn’t just snatched your foothold underneath. Terror kept your feet webbed in place, watching as he twirled your dagger in his fingers like a child's play thing. Crouching near the fire, he mindlessly poked and prodded at the stoking wood. He picked away a scrap of charred chipping, before plunging the blade into the flank of the burning log. You gazed at him, chest tight, aching. How he hadn’t flinched when the fire slicked around his hand like oil.

He dragged the smoldering stump from the hearth, creating a scorched line. When the licks of fire seeped into the house floors, he rose, one vertebra at a time. 

“If I’m being honest, I probably would’ve done the same thing.” He unhooked a masked contraption from his belt buckle and tightened it over his face. The eye sockets were of yellow stained sea glass, and the mouth of it appeared like a muzzle of iron teeth. “Leave something already weak, then crippled to survive on its own. Gambling on the high-stakes of death. So sure of the outcome, no one bothered to turn over a shoulder.” Hellfire rose and swelled in the reflection of his mask. “Maybe they should’ve.” 

The rapid hunger of the hearth fire blazed and curled across the floor of the home. Heat lapped towards your skin, drawing out sweat from your pores. Dense smoke began filling the wooden death chamber. You inhaled the black snowflakes, searing your lungs once they melted inside you. You slapped a hard hand over your mouth, coughing and shuddering against it. A pang of panic willed your body to move. You attempted to open the window behind you, but to your horror, it had been welded to the frame. 

Your eyes watered, hugging the wall as you traced it to the door. When the handle clattered against your pulls and tugs, a ghostly laugh floated around you. The metal was bolted shut from the outside. A bout of nausea cramped your stomach. Fear darted your eyes toward the stairs, where the flames hadn’t yet reached—but soon. Perhaps the window of your room hadn’t been tampered with. 

You darted towards the steps, and before you could place one foot up, a black beast stalked from the darkness of the second floor.

The floating embers danced hauntingly over the onyx scales, and gashes rippled in the firelight. Revealing wounds healed twice, perhaps three times over. That body of night perfectly reflected it's master’s outward appearance.

And as you drowned in those feral slits of pure abandon, it was apparent they also shared the same broken, unmendable soul. 

“Oh. You remember Toothless, don’t you?” Your face paled, backing slowly as the Nightfury slithered down the steps like black ink. A predatory growl rumbled above the snapping and collapsing wood around you. Hiccup sauntered to the dragon’s side, patting the thick of his neck, pulsing with power. Another laugh at your expense. “Looks like he remembers you.”

You fought the claw of unconsciousness raking over every part of you. Choking, straining against your hand pathetically covering your mouth.

“Since you did me a favor back then, I’m going to give you one chance to make it up to me.” The mask muffled his voice, but the wickedness screamed, rattling your veins. “You can either choose to stay here and burn with the rest of Berk or…” he lifted a hand, hardly an invitation, but a devilish bargain. “You can choose me.”

In the thick of your pounding head and chest, you considered burning to death was the wiser option of the two. All that he was—what he’d inevitably become—held no promise of a life worth degrading yourself for. Nothing about you would be spared. And it wouldn’t be long till you dropped on hands and knees, begging for him to take your life. To end his drawn out game of torture. One he’d carefully crafted for years and years. 

Just for you, only for you.  

Still, you clung to life. A measly mortal thread. Your shaking hand lifted, painfully reaching for his fingertips. One step forward, and the world spun in wisps of red and black. Your lungs and heart throbbed, practically seizing. A calculated arm caught you, cradling you wholly, close as any lover would. 

“Good choice.” 

You heard the waning words of approval, and through the fading light of your vision, something fastened over your face. Your last conscious breath had been clean, airy—a pleasant contrast to the toxic fumes. 

Then, nothing.

[worldlxvlys]

speed

chris sturniolo x singer! reader

warnings: smuttt, fingering, oral (male receiving), no actual p in v

a/n: this is for @annamcdonalds67 ‘s writing challenge !! hope you enjoy <33

la da da da

da da da

the crowd went crazy after hearing only the first few chords of the unreleased song that i’d been teasing for weeks.

considering the fact that they’d never heard the full song, i found it funny how many people genuinely loved the song.

if i told you how much i think about her

you’d think i was in love

i looked out to the sea of people in front of me, growing slightly nervous at the thought of every single one of their attention being on me.

i had definitely performed before, but never in front of a crowd of people this large.

and if you knew how much i looked at her pictures

you would think we’re best friends

my nerves eased a little when i actually looked at the crowd. my eyes bounced from person to person, seeing bright smiles, tears of happiness, and people singing along.

deciding to pretend as though i wasn’t singing in front of an insane amount of people, i let myself enjoy the song.

as the words flew past my mouth and into the microphone, i thought about how excited chris was when i first played the song for him.

right before i got to the chorus, i looked over to the VIP section, immediately catching his gaze.

CHRIS’S POV

when i caught her gaze, there seemed to be a glint of something in her eyes, but i couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

although her face held a sweet smile, i could tell she was about to do something that would have me struggling to contain myself.

i’m starin’ at her like i wanna get hurt

and i remember every detail you have ever told me

so be careful, baby

she began to jump around on stage, her energy and happiness becoming contagious as everyone around her seemed to bask in it.

any nerves that she may have had at the beginning of the song easily washed away as she sang.

i’m so obsessed with your ex

yeah, i’m so obsessed with your ex

her hair bounced on her shoulders as she moved her head to the beat. she looked majestic, the stage lights giving her body a soft glow.

she’s got those lips, she’s got those hips

the life of every fucking party

it was almost as those she was singing about herself, her hands running up and down her body, my eyes following them.

the confidence she had was evident in her stage presence, making her seem all the more attractive.

she laid on the ground on her side, running her hands down her body while she danced seductively on the floor.

there was something so enticing about it, she made such a simple action look so alluring.

she made her way through the song, the adrenaline seeming to course through her as she bounced around on the stage.

she showed the love and passion that she had for music through a wide smile, her eyes shut as she soaked every moment in.

the further she got into her set, the hornier i got. i tried to stop myself, but my mind was consumed with the things i could do to her in her dressing room. i just needed ten minutes.

her tight skirt inched up her legs slightly with every jump, causing the curve of her ass cheek to peak out.

her low-cut top gave the perfect view her cleavage, the pendant of her gold necklace hanging just above where her tits met.

at this point, i was so hard that i was genuinely in pain. luckily for me, all eyes were on y/n, i didn’t have to worry about anyone noticing my raging hard-on.

“hi everyone!” i heard her speak into the mic, making my head whip up to her direction.

“i hope you guys are enjoying the show so far!” she was met with a roar of applause in response, causing her to let out a light chuckle.

“we’re going to take a brief, ten minute intermission, so go to the bar and grab a drink or snack, and we’ll be back soon!” she spoke, giving a light wave before walking off of the stage.

looks like i got my ten minutes.

“going to the bathroom!” i yelled out to nick and matt, bringing a hand down to cover my crotch as i sped walked to the backstage area.

i flashed the security guard my backstage pass before rushing to y/n’s dressing room.

i knocked on the door loudly, waiting to hear her answer before opening the door.

“oh, chris!” she spoke as i closed and locked the door behind me.

she rushed over to me, a bright smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“i’m so fucking proud of you, baby. you’re so good out there” i spoke into her neck, pressing slow kisses to her neck.

she tilted her head to the side, letting out a small sigh as her fingers slid up to my hair to pull on the brown strands.

“such a good girl for me” i sighed into her neck, “you deserve all of the love” i spoke against her skin.

i moved my head to her chest, leaving kisses to the exposed skin.

her hand quickly found my crotch, beginning to palm me through my pants. “want some help with that?” she asked me.

“i- yes, please” i spoke, my breathing picking up as she sunk onto her knees in front of me.

she pulled my pants and boxers down with one tug, wrapping her hands around my thighs as she licked up the small bit of pre-cum that leaked out of my tip.

she swirled her tongue around it before taking me into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks.

“fuck” i moaned, my hand finding its way to the back of her head.

i attempted to control myself, refraining from moving my hips.

she momentarily pulled her mouth off of me to say, “c’mon baby, fuck my mouth” before moving to take me fully into her mouth again.

i did as she said, beginning to buck my hips into her mouth, holding her head steady.

she glanced up at me through her lashes, eyes filling with unshed tears as i pushed myself in and out of her warm mouth.

i stared down at her tits, watching as they bounced harshly from the force of my hips against her body.

when she caught my gaze, she pulled the straps to her top down to expose her boobs to me.

“oh my god, yes. feels so good” i groaned out when her nose hit my pubic bone, her head shaking side to side.

there was a sudden knock on the door behind me, catching me by surprise as she continued to suck me off.

“5 minutes until you’re on!” a voice said, leaving as quickly as it came.

i watched as her hand disappeared under her skirt, causing her to begin to moan around me.

i could hear the wet sounds of her fingers inside of her pussy, my head flying back at the thoughts running through my head.

i twitched inside of her mouth, causing her to pull away from me. her mouth remained connected to me by a long string of spit while she began to twist her hand around my length.

“ come on chris, you gonna cum for me? all over my tits?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at me.

i was only able to nod my head as my eyes rolled back, thick ropes of my cum flying onto her chest.

she stood up onto her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she grinned at me.

without another word, i turned us around so that her back was facing the door.

i hooked a hand under one of her knees, lifting it up with one hand, the other finding its way under her dress.

“let me return the favor” i spoke as i moved her panties to the side and pushed two fingers into her entrance.

“fuck, chris” she squeaked as her mouth hung open, her head falling back into the door.

her tight walls squeezed around my fingers, clamping down onto them.

there was a pounding on the door behind her, making her let out a yelp in surprise.

i covered her mouth with my hand, while she moaned into it, gripping my forearm harshly.

“2 minutes !” the voice yelled through the door.

she pushed her hips down to meet my movements, desperately chasing her orgasm.

i circled my thumb around her clit, enjoying the way she shuddered under my touch.

her head fell forward onto my shoulder, while her fingers threaded through my hair. she tugged on it harshly, eliciting a deep groan from me.

“you close baby?” i asked as she began to clench around my fingers again.

“yes, please let me cum. i’m so close, chris” she moaned out as her face scrunched up in pleasure.

“let go, princess. make a mess on my fingers”

she looked so pretty like this, her messy makeup running down her blissed-out face.

her legs began to shake, hips jerking up involuntarily and her back arching off of the door.

she let out one last cry of my name before letting go, coating my fingers in her pleasure.

“here, let’s get you cleaned up” i spoke, wiping away the smudged makeup on her cheeks.

i helped her fix herself up, before doing the same for myself.

once we deemed ourselves presentable, i opened the door. i was met with a member of the stage crew, who seemed to be preparing to knock on the door.

he gave us a knowing look before speaking, “you two couldn’t have waited until after the show?”

the two of us glanced at each other, giving the man blank stares.

“you” he pointed to y/n, “need to go get your makeup touched up” he spoke, waving over her makeup artist.

“and you” he pointed to me, “need to go back to your seat. stay away from her until after the show, got it?” he asked as he placed his hands on my shoulders, turning me towards the direction i originally came from.

when i tuned back to look at y/n she was already getting whisked away by her makeup artist.

i made my way back to my seat, meeting my brothers’ gaze. “so, you enjoy your bathroom break?” nick asked, brows raised.

“yeah, it was fine” i spoke, keeping my eyes forward to avoid his gaze.

“really? cause you just came from the opposite direction of the bathroom” matt pointed out.

before i could say anything in response, the crowd broke into a round of loud applause.

i watched y/n walk on stage, lightly smirking at the way her legs lightly shook with each step.

“so subtlety just isn’t your thing, huh?” nick asked.

“never was going for subtlety, just speed”

collide (matt version)

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[shellxrls]

(lil young Snow ramble):

that man 10000% has a breeding kink and while i usually don’t really fuck with that, I’m somehow on my knees when thinking about this … 🧎🏻‍♀️ (Coryo, what have you done to me?)

I’d love to read some headcanons about this, but of course, only if you’re up for it!

(my inbox is closed for actual requests at the moment, but i can explore this a bit rn and possibly revisit it with a proper piece of writing another time - probably soon bc you got me thinking ab it.)

mdni | 18+ content

i 100% agree with you. i think with snow its always about control and obsession - almost every single thing he does has those as subconscious motivators, whether he realises it or not.

with that being said, both of those things connect to form the perfect opportunity for him to have a breeding kink.

making you so pregnant you have to rely on him for everything, allowing him such intimate control of your life and becoming so susceptible to any sort of manipulation. he could practically get you to do anything, completely at his mercy and blinded by this star-struck love for your child and your budding family.

he's also almost baby-trapping you in a sense as well? this child will be a confirmation that you will never leave him, needing him for child support as well as likely caring about your child too much to put them through the pain of splitting with him.

lastly, snow would already be infatuated with you, with your body. so naturally he would give absolutely anything to be able to see you growing, your boobs becoming bigger and your body expanding to create space for something he helped create. he thinks its endearing, and he won't be able to keep his hands off you especially with all the extra space he now has to mark up and ruin.

[r6s6r]

constellations

cole walter x reader

warnings : angst, 18+, swearing, kinda long, mentions of anxiety and anxiety attacks.

i have been obsessing over MLWTWB recently so i am currently trying to make myself chill out so i am making this

——————————————————————

y/n had met alex at school and they instantly became bestfriends. they bonded over their love of video games and books

it went on like that for years. they were attached at the hip and she became like a part of the family

she was always around that they never even questions when she doesn’t go home some nights

of course they made sure she slept in a different room, which she always curled up on the recliner in the living room so danny could make his way down to watch his movies, careful not to wake her up. even if he did, she didn’t mind. she would be lulled back to sleep by the sound of the tv.

that was until jackie came to live with the walters

she didn’t mind jackie, she actually liked having a girl around but all of a sudden alex was in a trance over the olive skinned girl.

she felt pushed to the side.

forgotten.

———

she stood against the counter while alex stared at jackie, her heart broke a little bit.

she didn’t feel jealous, she hadn’t seen alex that way whatsoever. he was her bestfriend but he was distracted and that made y/ns mind spiral.

she had always had a problem with that. her mind never ending and always telling her she would be forgotten. she wasn’t good enough. she’s replaceable.

her mind then spiraled and she felt lightheaded. she needed air right then or she would burst into flames

she pushed herself from the counter and started towards the front door

“hey! you okay?” jackie smiled at her

“ye-yeah i’m okay, jackie. i’m just gonna go take a walk.” the tears were coming and she knew it

“do you want me to come with?” jackie offered warmly, almost like she knew the look on y/ns features

“oh no, jacks that’s okay”

“okay…” she looked at y/n to analyze her, jackie looked over to alex and saw him with his book to his face and then looked at y/n who was already out of the door and sighed.

y/n made her way down the steps as fast as she could.

her heart was pounding so loud she couldn’t hear anything going on around her. she just kept walking

she couldn’t think of anything else to do, her feet taking her to god knows where

until she ran right into him.

cole walter.

her coley poley.

she grabbed his arm and pushed herself up to keep upright, her whole body was shaking. she prayed he hadn’t noticed but cole knowing her like the back of his hand

he knew something was very wrong

“hey, doll. what’s going on?” he grabbed onto her to keep her steady.

“c-cole. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to run into you. i’m sorry. i just needed some air. i’m sorry” the apologies just kept coming and the tears were on the brink of spilling

she could barely hear her own words over her speeding heart.

“hey. hey, it’s okay. talk to me, y/n/n” she looked at him, seeing his eyes for the first time since running into him

they looked helpless

she saw pain and sadness behind them

but the way the sun hit them just right, she saw hope. she saw a little cole running through the fields of the ranch with her, she saw life in his green orbs

they reminded her of the fields here in spring. the different patterns that swirled in the color of his eyes.

she took a deep breath and tried to tell him

but she choked and started to panic again.

he grabbed her face in his hands “look at me y/n/n” and she did

he talked to her slowly but nothing made it to her conscious brain. she just focused on the way he was taking breaths and the golden color his eyes had become

she tried to mimic his breaths, slow and deep.

“will you walk with me, coley poley?” she basically begged and he smiled and nodded at her.

so they did, they walked for what felt like forever before she finally calmed down enough to discuss why she had panicked.

“i just feel replaceable. since jackie got here alex has been, well, distant and we haven’t been hanging out as much. i’ve just been wandering around the house and the ranch with no real place to be anymore. without alex, where is my place here? is he gonna forget about me?” she looked at cole and his expression softened

“well, truly you are unforgettable. none of us would have you anywhere else. we all love you, you know that right, y/n/n? plus, she’s without. if you were my best friend, i would make sure you knew that.” he sighed looking off in the distance then back at her

“you would?” “i would”

“cmon, i wanna show you something” he stood up and offered his hand to her which she took and he brought her up with ease.

he turned his back to her “get on”

“what?” she questioned

“a princess does not get to walk to a secret location” he smiled at her over his shoulder and with a sighed she hoisted herself onto his back.

“giddy up cowboy.” she smiled at him

“yes ma’am.” he winked with a fake southern accent

and he began to make his way towards their destination.

when they made it, her eyes lit up. their destination was at the pond that had hundreds of flowers growing around it, it was truly beautiful around this time of year.

she jumped down and raced towards the pond, to a group of flowers and she laid right down. she closed her eyes and took in the scent of the air around her

cole made his way to her and smiled down at her.

“lay down with me coley poley”

“you gotta stop calling me that. the girls will never let me get close to them if you don’t”

“oh like you need anymore girls flocking your way. you basically have all of them worshipping the ground you walk on” she rolled her eyes and elbowed him as he sat down with a strained face

she knew it was hard for him since the incident with his leg.

she could never imagine how hard it must really be

“not all of them” he mumbled looking right at her

she made eye contact with him once again, his green eyes staring hard into her e/c ones.

she started counting the light freckles on his face and she began to speak “well i can’t be taken down by the cole effect. i am too strong” she smiled and flex her arms like she was the worlds strongest man

he laughed at her “i swear i’ll never hear the end of ‘the cole effect’ i don’t get it”

she scoffed at this “you don’t get it? okay let me try it on you. give you a little bit of the ‘y/n effect’ i would like to call it”

“okay give it to me y/l/n”

she peered out to the water where the sun was shining and leaned towards cole real close, close enough to smell her strawberry scented perfume and lotion.

she pointed to the water and gently touched his back “you see how the sun just shines on the water, coley poley?” she started, keeping her voice low and smooth

she rubbed a circle on his back which made cole shiver but she ignored it

“it shines right into your eyes, you know? makes them look so,”

he looked at her

“so green and gold. they sparkle, i could just look at them all day. they remind me of a meadow right as the sun is about to set”

her hand continued to rub his back

he looked like he had never been told this before

almost like it wasn’t the truth, y/n had just made it more seductive and sensual.

“it’s just like that, huh?” he whispered

“it’s just like that.” y/n pulled away but he grabbed her wrist quickly

“y/n”

“coley poley”

“y/n.”

“cole”

“did you mean it?” he leaned closer to her

“every word.” she smiled at him and leaned with him

“y/n!” she heard alex’s voice and the gallops of feet. her and coke scrambled up quickly and saw alex and jackie riding together

jackie must have said something to alex and he immediately came to find me, not noticing something was off until of course jackie said something.

jackie must of been good at reading people, y/n hated that. she hated being seen through like glass.

cole was standing behind her, pulling the leaves out of her hair and brushing off the back of her shirt.

alex looked at cole with a hard look. knowing what happened between them was rough but they were all still like family.

“what are you guys doing out here?” alex questioned them

“i just needed a walk and cole tagged along. i needed the company” y/n sneered back.

he was acting like she did something wrong

their problems weren’t hers, she needed someone by her side and alex obviously wasn’t gonna be there drooling over jackie.

“why didn’t you ask me?” his eyebrows furrowed when asking

“because you were busy, alex. come on, cole.”she answered perplexed, as if he didn’t know why.

she put her hand out towards cole and he took it. they started walking back to the ranch and whatever alex and jackie did wasn’t on her mind.

they made it back to the ranch

“thank you, coley poley. i really needed that” she smiled facing him

he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “of course, doll. anytime you need me, i’m only a shout away.”

y/n made her way into the house to see isaac and lee playing mortal kombat on the couch so she plopped herself in between them and called the next round

————

y/n had fallen asleep in the recliner but woke up to the house of the front door closing. she adjusted her nightgown and threw on a jacket by the front door and made her way outside. she saw the lights on in the barn where cole worked on his truck

she knew it had to have been him. she stood outside and enjoyed the breeze for a moment before walking out to the doors. her hand reached for the handle and she took a deep breath before opening it.

“coley poley?” she questioned as she closed the doors, she heard light music in the back.

she never pegged cole to listen to this type of music

lights are turned off

music is on

minds are unlocked

this feeling is amazing

“hey doll. did i wake you?”

“kind of but that’s okay. you weren’t loud, i’m just a light sleeper.”

he looked around the hood and started to lower it down before closing it completely

he was wearing a white tank top and his hair was messy around his forehead

she walked over to him and smiled at her “no scary monsters that need scaring away, right princess?”

“why no, of course not my knight. only you” she snickered at him

he feigned hurt “i could never hurt my princess. even if i am a monster”

“you’re no monster, cole walter.” she stepped closer to him

“what if i am? would you run?” he stepped even closer to her

“never.” she whispered, face to face with him.

when i hit the spot you know i hit it perfectly

and you taste so sweet

leave me wanting more soon

as we get out the sheets

he reached up and cupped her cheek his hand hands

he caressed her cheek with his thumb and she leaned more into it

she reached her hand up to his and held on to it, scared it would disappear if she didn’t.

she closed her eyes and sighed at the warmth of him.

he then pulled her to him and closed the gap between them.

he swayed them back and forth with the music.

lights are turned off

music is on

minds are unlocked

this feeling is amazing

hands on your waist

liquor is all that we taste

your freckles lead the way

i trace your constellations

she looked up at him and he was already looking at her big e/c eyes.

his eyes were that beautiful gold that they got at certain points when looking at her

all he could think was how ethereal she looked.

the dim light shining on her face, making her eyes sparkle and shine.

she lips plump and pink and her lashes looked long and wispy

she embodied natural beauty.

he didn’t feel himself leaning into her

but she was leaning in too.

he stopped himself thinking about how alex would really feel about this.

cole questioned himself for a second before y/n cupped his face to look at her and the look in her eyes threw every thought of doubt out of the window.

he grabbed her face and their lips finally met.

sparks had never been a thing for cole, he just did it to make other girls happy but this was different for him

it was for her too

now isaac had been her first kiss when they were young and of course Dylan, coles friend taking her virginity at a party after they had both had too much to drink. she never told anyone and she was sure he didn’t either, cole would’ve killed him.

this was different like it was what was missing from her life.

like she was waiting for the perfect moment and this was it.

cole knew this was different.

they pulled away and looked at each other for a split second before he started backing her against the front bumper of his truck

“cole..”

“y/n” he whispered, putting his forehead against hers.

before their lips met once again. more urgency behind this one

her wraps wrapped in the hair at the base of his neck and his hands made her way to her neck

her skin felt like it was on fire

he lifted her to wrap around his waist making her gasp as his lips trailed down her neck and to her collarbone.

she pulled at his hair to bring his lips back to hers and he groaned at the tug of his hair.

alex is gonna be so mad if he ever finds out what happened in the barn that night

i trace your constellations

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Still going through the slowest Deathly Hallows reread, and I encountered this lovely Tommarymort moment I felt like sharing. I mean, I saw some people mention how Hermione refers to their mental connection as a relationship:

“You never really tried!” she said hotly. “I don’t get it, Harry—do you like having this special connection or relationship or what—whatever—” She faltered under the look he gave her as he stood up. “Like it?” he said quietly. “Would you like it?” “I—no—I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean—” “I hate it, I hate the fact that he can get inside me, that I have to watch him when he’s most dangerous. But I’m going to use it.”

(DH, 202)

Above Harry clearly denies it, but later in Deathly Hallows, there's a moment I didn't see talked about as much, where Harry, in his own mind, agrees with Hermione:

Harry was just able to make out the indistinct features of an object that looked like a skull, and something like a mountain that was more shadow than substance. Used to images sharp as reality, Harry was disconcerted by the change. He was worried that the connection between himself and Voldemort had been damaged, a connection that he both feared and, whatever he had told Hermione, prized. Somehow Harry connected these unsatisfying, vague images with the destruction of his wand, as if it was the blackthorn wand’s fault that he could no longer see into Voldemort’s mind as well as before

(DH, 375)

Not only did Harry lie to Hermione but he actually prizes his connection to Voldemort for its usefulness and for the sense of purpose it gives Harry. Now, I want to expand on the latter one.

I already talked about how in Deathly Hallows, Voldemort's sole purpose and obsession is Harry, but, Harry isn't much different. Like, he has a few other things going on, but a lot of his sense of purpose and sense of self hinges on Voldemort.

The reason these visions from Voldemort become so important to him is that he feels it's the only useful thing he can do since they're stuck on the Horcruxes' front. They give him a sense of purpose. The fact he connects the loss of his connection with Voldemort and the destruction of his wand is so fascinating to me.

Because Harry's wand is so important to him, he describes it as a piece of himself, like a living thing that is part of him:

The holly and phoenix wand was nearly severed in two. One fragile strand of phoenix feather kept both pieces hanging together. The wood had splintered apart completely. Harry took it into his hands as though it was a living thing that had suffered a terrible injury. He could not think properly. Everything was a blur of panic and fear. Then he held out the wand to Hermione

(DH, 300)

Without realizing it, he was digging his fingers into his arms as if he were trying to resist physical pain. He had spilled his own blood more times than he could count; he had lost all the bones in his right arm once; this journey had already given him scars to his chest and forearm to join those on his hand and forehead, but never, until this moment, had he felt himself to be fatally weakened, vulnerable, and naked, as though the best part of his magical power had been torn from him.

(DH, 303)

Connecting something he thinks about like this and his connection to Voldemort is... well, it's interesting, to say the least.

I mean, of course, there is the twin core and its protection, and it's clear why he would connect his wand to Voldemort, but Harry was always fond of his wand despite its connection to Voldemort, not because of it:

Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort’s wand was something it couldn’t help — rather as he couldn’t help being related to Aunt Petunia.

(GoF, 310)

So, I find all this kinda interesting. How during the final book Harry's sense of purpose and being becomes more and more hinged on Voldemort while essentially the same thing is going on with Voldemort who forgot about the ministry entirly and is only focused on killing Harry.

[croimilis]

private show

title: private show

characters: peter parker x stark!avenger!reader

rating: 18+

words: 8k

theme: smut, porn with minor plot, a little sweet moment between reader, shang-chi and america

warning: smut, filthy smut, alcohol. titty job, oral (m and f receiving),hair pulling, praise, thigh riding, fingering, nipple play, reader has nipple piercings, p in v sex, unprotected sex (please assume some type of other contraception is used), multiple orgasms (both m and f), cum swallowing, peters a bit of  perv, mentions of birth control, creampie, dom!peter, confident!peter, cum eating, cum play, peter calls reader ‘princess’ maybe a little too much, soft!peter, aftercare, a little bit of subdrop

summary:  “turn down the lights and watch my private show”

you notice peter has an obsession with your tits, so you offer to give him a private show

tags: @xoxabs88xox​

a/n: all characters are 18+ (specifically 21 as there is drinking mentioned), this was meant to be short and sweet, but i’m slowly learning i cannot do anything in moderation and it is most definitely the most filthy smut i have ever written

He was staring again, his eyes following you throughout the room from the moment you entered. You could feel them burning into your skin as you walked, greeting various benefactors and members of the Avengers with you arm wrapped around Tony’s, to be specific you could feel them burning into the skin of the cleavage you had exposed in your deep cut dress where the ‘v’ almost reached your belly button.

It wasn’t the first time you had noticed Peter staring at your boobs, it was one of many over the last couple of months and you were sure he was staring long before it came to your attention and you don’t know how you didn’t notice sooner. After all, Peter Parker was not discreet in any way shape or form outside of his role as Spiderman.

When you first noticed it was soon after you had gotten your nipples pierced, much to your fathers horror and everyone else's amusement as Tony freaked out about his ‘sweet innocent little angel falling into temptations’ despite knowing you had not been innocent since the age of 16 when you asked him to go on birth control specifying why (he looked like he was ready to drop dead at that very second while Peper just looked on with an amused smile).

Given the pain of the piercings, you were reluctant to wear a bra for the first few days and instead floated about in loose tank tops and camis that were just tight enough to show your new piercings but not enough that it would hurt. This particular day, you were sitting at the kitchen island of the compound just scrolling on your phone as you waited for Tony and Bruce to be finished in the lab because you were supposed to be heading out to lunch with your dad.

As Peter walks into the kitchen, you flash him a smile and give a small “”hey” in greeting before turning your eyes back to your phone. Peter on the other hand could not keep his eyes off you no matter how hard he tried. In general, Peter thought you were stunning, this complete otherworldly creature that he could only describe as heavenly and he was completely and utterly infatuated from the moment he saw you all those years ago when he first joined the Avengers at the young of age of 16, that was 5 years ago now and he was still completely enamoured with you. Probably even more so now that he actually knew you as a person.

But recently Peter has become completely obsessed with a particular part of your body, he just couldn’t help himself. It seemed that every time you were around his eyes would drift towards your chest and stay there for much longer than was deemed polite, though he was sure that by even looking he was way past the point of politeness, and today was no different.

Especially with the way the bars of your new piercings were pushing against the fabric of your shirt, as if inviting him to have a look and he couldn’t look away, not as you greeted him, not as he leaned against the kitchen counter while eating the apple he had lifted, not as you tell him about the newest article about Spiderman and (hero name) and how there’s rumours the two are sleeping together or romantically involved and snort at some of the comments being made about the two of you, and not as Tony walks into the room to take you for your lunch. He prays to every god that could exist, including Thor and Loki, that you don’t notice the way his eyes suddenly snap up to your face as you give him a goodbye, like all the other times he stares he hopes you don’t notice.

But unlike all the other times before, you notice this time. You had actually looked up from your phone for a split second to try and read Peter’s expression as you tell him about the news article you were reading and had noticed that while he was listening, he was focused on something other than your voice and he was not being discreet about it with the way his eyes lingered and a light flush dusted his cheeks a lovely shade of pink.

Instead of questioning him, you simply smirk and look back down to your phone, a small blush spreading across your cheeks at the attention. After all, similar to Peter, you harboured an attraction to him from the first time you met at 16 years old but never thought it was reciprocated in any way but now you knew you were going to have fun with it.

After that you started noticing him staring more often.Like that one time after training with Natasha when you were in nothing but a sports bra and pair of athletic shorts, he seemed to be watching the way the sweat that had gathered on your body was dripping down between your cleavage with such intensity you could almost feel his gaze burning into our skin. That day you had to suppress a smirk and pretend like you were just getting a headache as Nat turned to you with a weird look and asked what was up, after all just because you knew didn’t mean everyone else had to know.

Or that time you were at an Avengers themed Halloween party some fraternity at your college was throwing and you had gone as Black Widow, taking one of Nats old cat suits and adjusting it to your body measurements to do so. Still, even with adjustments the suit was tight around your chest and squeezed your breasts together in a way that made sure they would be hard to miss. You had meet up with Peter (obviously dressed as Spiderman) and MJ (who refused to participate but still wore an Avengers t-shirt) at the party and immediately noticed how Peter’s eyes drifted to your chest before they bounced back to your eyes, a flush spreading across his cheeks as he stuttered out a greeting and practically choked on his own spit causing MJ to turn to him with a ‘wtf’ look and a “dude are you okay?”

You simply batted your eyelashes at him, inwardly grinning to yourself, and asked in your most innocent voice, “Yeah, Pete. You okay?” Peter swore he was going to die that very second had it not been for Flash (who was dressed up as Spiderman as well, though he claimed his looked more authentic despite the fact that Peter was simply wearing one of his old costumes) coming up and stealing your attention from Peter with a “(Y/N)! You’re looking great.”

---

There were moments like that scattered throughout the few months since you had noticed him staring for the first time, all of them leading up to this night and your choice of dress. Natasha and Wanda had helped you pick it out, a gorgeous black that hugged close to your figure and showed off all your curves beautifully with a deep deep ‘v’ neckline that showed of your tits like they were pieces of art to be shown off, Tony had nearly had heart failure when he had seen you in it for the first time a week earlier as he walked in on Pepper adjusting the length for you. Which to you, meant it was absolutely perfect for what you wanted it for.

Your eyes roam  around the room for a bit, your arms wrapped around Tonys as talks to another benefactor and Admiral Simpson or something like that, you had stopped caring three Admirals ago, looking for Peter. When your eyes finally meet his, you smile and excuse yourself from the conversation to go and join him at the large window showing off the lights of New York below.

Peter is standing by himself, occasionally bringing the beer in his hand to his mouth to take a sip. These events weren’t really his scene, while Peter loved a good party he hated the formality around the Avengers events and so he usually kept to himself and relegated himself to a corner of the room where he could nurse a beer the whole night and just watch as the party slipped by him. Sometimes you joined him in his corner, bringing cheesy jokes and conversations that kept his mind busy, other times the two of you would escape and he would take you swinging around the city and you would end up sitting on some random rooftop his suit jacket wrapped around your shoulders to fight of the cold as you ate some of the best pizza greasy New York had to offer.

It seemed this night you decided to just join him, lifting a champagne flute from the tray of a waiter as they passed you by and downing its contents in second leaving a red residue behind from your lipstick. You stand in front of him, a small smile on your face as you do so and greet him with a gentle “hey” that he reciprocated, though you have to stop your smile from turning into a smirk as his eyes moved down your face and across your body, fully taking you in, lingering a little too long on your chest.

As Peter greets you, eyes quickly snapping up to meet yours, you let out a small chuckle and reach a hand out, wrapping it gently around his wrist and slowly moving it up her arm as you lean close to his ear, your chest pressing against his lightly as you do so.

“If you like staring at my tits so much, why don’t I give you a private show?” You smirk to yourself and bite down on your bottom lip, you were so close you could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks as the blush spread across his face rapidly.

You remove your hand from his bicep, slowly trailing it up his shoulder as you walk behind Peter, your chest now very flush with his back, you keep going your hand now gently wrapped around Peter’s neck as you tilt his head upwards so he’s looking at ceiling and you lips are right beside his ear, “Meet me in my room in 30 minutes”

You would go now, but the party had only started and as the daughter of the host it would be rude of you to not make the rounds, have at least 1 drink and socialise a bit with the other avengers, and maybe just maybe you wanted to torment the poor soul just a little. You remove your hand from Peter's neck and fully turn away from him, instead facing the bar and you smile at Natasha, who was behind the bar as usual much preferring to work at these events than have to socialise and who was already preparing a (preferred drink) for you.

As you approach, she cocks and eyebrow and gives you a sly but questioning look as if she knew exactly what you were up to., placing the drink down on the counter in front of you. “What are you doing that poor boy?”

You simply roll your eyes and lift the drinking, bringing it to your lips, eyes ghosting over to where Peter now stood in shock with a bright blush spreading across his cheeks and his head whipping from side to side to make sure no one else had seen what had happened. “I have no idea what you’re talking about Nat.”

“Uh-uh, as if you couldn’t cut the sexual tension between the two of you with a butterknife.” You snort at her comment, leaning your back against the bar and placing your elbows on it as well for extra stability in your heels as Nat leans on the bar at your side, arms crossed over the counter and her head tilted towards you, “Just make safe choices, we don’t need any little Iron Spiderlings running around.”

This time you roll your eyes at her comment and down the rest of your drink, your eyes finding a very nervous looking Shang-chi and America being hounded by a bunch of benefactors who want to know simply everything about the pair, well more specifically about what they could do. You push yourself of the bar and turn to Nat to place a kiss to her cheek, “I always make safe choices Nat,” Natasha rolls her eyes at you as she leans into the kiss and you give her a cheeky smile as you make your way over to the nervous pair and the five or six benefactors surrounding them.

“Okay, why don’t we give them some space to breathe?” The benefactors all turn to look at you at the sound of your voice, your eyes are narrowed into a glare, your face hardened and arms crossed over your chest, even if they didn’t know what exactly you were capable off and the fact that you could kill them all twice over in just a few seconds they would still be intimidated from your look alone, after all your glare could rival Medusas and turned most people into living statues as they stared at you in fear, a skill you have to thank Natasha for. They all gulp down their fear, shuffling away from Shang-Chi and America with nervous looks on their face and all muttering some form of “of course Miss. Stark” or “sorry Miss.Stark.”, preferring to use your real name over your hero name as if refusing to address you as your hero name gave them some sort of power over you.

You kept the glare on your face until the last of them disappeared out of your sight, instead going to bother some other members of the Avengers (probably Sam and Bucky) who would have no problem either entertaining them or telling them to fuck right off. As the last one disappears, you drop the glare and turn to Shang-Chi and America with a soft smile and nothing but kindness in your eyes. “You guys okay?”

America says nothing and just nods her head as she wrings her hands together nervously and Shang-chi gulps down his nerves and answers you, “Yeah..we’re…we’re good.” With a chuckle you realise they were scared of you and you reach out a hand to take Americas, rubbing soft circles against her skin as you do so to try and ease her nerves, “Relax, that look is reserved for those vultures and the press.”

Shang-Chi nods his head and you can see the tension leave his shoulders slightly, though not completely, and you can feel some of the tension leave America as she winds her fingers in with yours as a form of comfort. “Other then those guys, how are you guys?”

A shaky breath leaves Shang-Chi lips, “Nervous,” you nod along to him and hum softly in response, “Your first event is always the hardest, but you get used to them after a while and you learn how to tell those dicks to fuck off without feeling guilty about it.” America lets out a giggle at your words and you smile at her, she’s a sweet girl and being around the age you were when you first joined the Avengers you felt a sisterly need to look after her.

You spend the next 20 minutes just talking to the pair, calming their nerves and reassuring them that they were going to be fine. Every Avenger in the room had their backs and all it would take is one word and they would handle anyone giving them bother, especially Stephen Strange who had formed an attachment to America.

Once their nerves were calmed she started to get to know each other a little more, you talked about your mothers and how much you adored and missed them, Shang-Chi told you about Ta Lo and America told you about the Utopian parallel universe she was from and you spoke about the small cottage in the middle of nowhere your mother raised you in, surrounded by nothing but woods and nature, it was your perfect little corner of the world untouched by anyone else until she got sick. It was nice to talk about, most people you spoke to about your mother always showed sympathy and seemed to focus on the the loss rather than who she was as a person, but Shang-Chi and America wanted to know about her, about your life with her, not the grief, not the loss, but the good moments, the memories you shared with her and the love.

The conversation shifts quickly as Shang-Chi and America start to discuss some movie they had both seen that weekend, and you take that moment to excuse yourself from the pair as you notice Peter slip out of the room. You make your way towards the back of the room, skirting the edges and disappearing into the shadows as you do making it easy for you to slip out of the room without being noticed by most people, the only ones that do are Natasha and Bucky and they share a knowing look and small smirk before they turn back to their conversation.

---

As quickly as you slip into your room, you’re slammed against the cool metal of the door as it slides closed behind you with a hand roughly grabbing at your hips and another slamming against the door at the side of your face effectively trapping you against it. Your eyes instantly snap up to meet with Peter’s, his pupils blown wide and full of lust, you simply smirk up at him and bite down on your lip.

He’s so close, pressing his body against yours and you can feel the bulge that is barely contained by his dress pants pressing against you, can feel the rippling muscles of his abdomen as they press against your chest and his hot breath against your face as he leans in towards yu, yet still you want him impossibly closer to you. The desire that has been boiling away inside you these past few months finally bubbling over and igniting every nerve ending in your body, leaving you consumed by want, by need.

Your own breath starts to come out heavy and laboured as the desire begins to pull in your stomach, especially as Peter squeezes at your hips and slowly starts to move his hand upwards, ghosting over your torso and going higher and higher until his palm is barely touching the side of your breast while his fingers gently dug into your rips.

“I believe you owe me a show princess.”

You were used to the term ‘princess’ being thrown around when discussing you, usually by the press or by the people who thought you got everything handed to you by Tony since you were introduced to the world as his daughter at your 18 birthday. The people who called you princess used the word like a knife in an attempt to cut into you and see you bleed so they could inject their venom directly into your blood and turn you into the bitchy socialite they wanted you to be, that way they would be justified in their horribleness towards you.

But Peter’s tone did not hold any venom it, his voice had not be sharpened into a knife edge meant to dig into your skin, Instead it was honey rich and smooth and slipped off his tongue almost like a prayer, warming you from the inside and sending another pang of desire rolling through your bones.

Peter steps back from you, his arms moving from your side and waist but despite the absence you can still feel their lingering warmth through the fabric of your dress, and he sits himself down on the edge of your bed with his forearms against his thighs as he leans forward slightly and regards you with an intense, almost predatory gaze.

It sends a shiver down your spines and warmth to your core and the intensity of the look causes your hands to shake as you reach to the back of your dress and slowly pull down the zipper. You were deliberate with your speed, wanting to tease Peter just a little while longer and maybe a part of you was hoping he would jump to his feet and rip the zipper down himself. But he doesn’t.

Instead, as the slipper slowly moves down your back,you notice the vein in his jaw jump as he clenches it tighter and tighter. As the zip finally reaches the bottom, just above your ass, you let the sleeves of the dress fall from your arms which allows the fabric to pool at your feet, leaving you in only your heels. You stand there for a second, watching as Peter’s eyes widen at your bare form, after all the tightness of your dress did not leave room for panties or bra lines. His reaction causes a smirk to rise on your lips.

“You’re fucking stunning princess.”

You step out of the fabric at your feet, your heels clicking against the ground as you stalk towards him. As you reach him, his hands wrap around your bare thighs and he gives them a gentle squeeze as he stares up at you before leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss against your hip. You cup your hands around his jaw, rubbing your thumb against his cheek as you bend down to place a gentle kiss against his lips.

The kiss starts soft but quickly turns heated as Peter grips at your thigh and causes a small gasp to leave your lips, which Peter uses to shove his tongue into your mouth. You moan into Peter’s mouth as he twirls his tongue around yours before pulling it back and biting down gently on your lip, one of his hands moves from your thigh and trails ever closer to where you need him most and he smirks into the kiss as he feels your wetness seeping down your  thigh, the effect he has on you fueling his ego.

Peter pulls away from the kiss and pulls his hand away from your thigh, a light residue from the wetness on your thigh coating his fingers, “This all for me baby?”

You nod, not knowing where this confident side of Peter had come from but loving it all the same, “Yes Peter, all for you.” He lets out a hum and sucks his fingers into his mouth, savouring the lingering taste of you as he looks up at your flushed cheeks through his long lashes. You gulp at the sight, moving your hands from his jaw line and down onto his shoulders, trailing down his arms as you lower yourself down onto your knees in front of him.

You rest your hands over his clothed thigh and look up at Peter with lightly veiled innocence, your big doe eyes lust blown to the point that the [colour] of your irises were almost completely gone, eclipsed by the blackness of your pupils, and slightly parted lips now imprinted in Peter's mind and locked away somewhere safe for those lonely nights in the future where he will most definitely be touching himself thinking about this night.  “Let me take care of you Peter, please?”

When you look at him like that and ask in that almost begging tone, who was he to tell you no, “Go ahead baby.”

With his permission, you’re moving your hand from his thigh and to the zipper of his pants pulling it down and then pulling down both his pants and boxers in on go, Peter lifting his hips slightly to make it easier for you, letting them pool around his ankles and you lick your lips at the sight of his cock bouncing against his stomach once its released from his boxers.

You keep your hands on high thighs and lean forward, your tongue making contact with the base of Peter’s cock and causing a groan to fall from Peter’s lip that only amplifies as you lick up to the tip and suck the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. The moan Peter lets out is like music to your ears and encourages you to do it again, running your tongue over the slit as you do, before starting to bob up and down on his length.

You do your best to take him all in your mouth, but you struggle to do so, gagging as he hits the back of your throat. Your inability to take all of him in your mouth sparks an idea in your mind, one you're sure Peter is going to love. Pushing yourself up on your knees so you’re just that little bit higher, you lean forward and slot Peter’s cock into the valley of your breasts and Peter nearly faints at the sight.

Your pretty lips all swollen from the kiss and from sucking his cock, your pretty little boobs wrapped around his cock, its another image seared into his mind and stored away for later use. As you press your hands into the side of your boobs, tightening their hold on his cock, and start moving them up and down, the moan Peter lets out can only be described as unholy and it adds fuel to the already raging fire inside you as you clench and unclench around nothing and rub your thighs together for just a little bit of friction or relief, though it offers none.

You continue your ministrations with your tits, watching through heavy lashes as Peter’s face contorts in pleasure and he struggles to hold in the moans and groans that are falling intermittently from his lips, between words of praise about how good you’re making him feel and being such a good girl for him, you would admit it to no one (not even Peter) but his words went straight to your core and caused you to clench even harder around nothing.

You reach your tongue out, giving kitten licks to the mushroom tip and over his slit as often as you could between the thrust of yours boobs, causing Peter to throw his head back and pleasure and reach a hand out to grab at the hair at the back of your head, “Shit , princess… you’re killing me here.”

That’s all the encouragement you need to keep going, darting your tongue out and swiping across Peters head almost every time it gets close to your mouth, licking up the precum leaking out of the tip, and squeezing your boobs even tighter around his cock as you do so, another groan forces itself out of Peters mouth as his hand tightens in your hair, causing a moan to fall from your own lips. “I’m so close, you gonna let me cum all over those pretty tits of yours princess?”

“Yes Peter, please cum all over my tits”

The desperation in your voice, the almost begging tone lacing it causes Peter to lose his composure and control as he shoots rope after rope of cum over your chest as you continue to move your boobs over him, the cum spreading down the valley and up onto your chest with some even landing in your mouth on your waiting tongue that you had stuck out when he started to cum.

Peter pants as you let go of your boobs and sit back, his hand leaves your hair and instead cups your jaw gently in a stark contrast with how hard he had been gripping at the roots where he runs a finger across your chin to swipe up the cum that had hit against it. He taps his thumb against your lips and you open, sucking his thumb into your mouth and moaning at the sensuality of it. It’s another image Peter will have seared in the back of his brain for the rest of his life.

As Peter focuses on the image of you, on your knees sucking on his thumb covered in his cum, you swipe some of the cum of your chest letting it cover your fingers before you pull back of his thumb and instead suck your own fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them to get as much cum off them as you can. Your eyes are staring up at Peter’s through your eyelashes, watching as the irises almost completely disappear, existing as the smallest rings around the pitch blackness of the blown out pupil, when you pull your fingers from your mouth with a ‘pop’ Peter is quick to pull you into a rough kiss, instantly shoving his tongue into your mouth.

You moan at the sensation of his tongue massaging yours, reaching your hands up and wrapping them around his neck, rising back up so Peter’s not having to bend over as much, tangling your hands a little bit less than gently in his hair and giving it a gentle tug, which causes Peter to let put a deep almost animalistic growl that has you clenching your thighs together even tighter, the movement of which Peter notices and he’s pulls away from you, a cocky smirk on his face.

“You took such good care of me princess…” His hand ghosts across your thigh until he’s hovering over your core, so close you can feel the heat emanating from it, and then ever so slowly he runs a finger through your folds, pressing against your clit with the slightest pressure as he does so and causing a whine to fall from your lips because god was it the most heavenly thing you’ve felt recently but it just was not enough, “Now let me take care of you.”

He takes your arms in his hands, guiding you to standing before he strips himself of his blazer and dress shirt, throwing them to the ground somewhere in your room. He lets you go and sits back down on the bed, patting his thigh as an invitation for you to sit. It's one you take almost immediately, throwing on leg over and lowering yourself down so that the fabric of his trousers make contact with your bare cunt and rubbing so deliciously on your clit as you do, ripping a moan from your throat as you do. "You have such pretty moans, pretty girl."

Peter grips onto your hips, fingers digging in a way that was painful to the point you were sure they were going to leave bruises but also amplified the pleasure coursing through your veins. Peter starts to move you up and down his thigh, the friction of the fabric rubbing on your clit at a brutal pace sending shockwaves through you and causing you to throw your head back as moans continually fall from your lips.

“Does that feel good?” You nod your head and Peter tenses his thigh underneath you, bouncing his knee alongside it pulling another loud moan from your lips at pleasure overwhelms your senses, “Come on princess, you gotta use your words.”

You let out a whine at the sensation, the motion of the bounce putting delicious pressure and friction against your clit that has you almost seeing stars, “Fe-feels s’good Peter.” Your words slur together as pleasure overwhelms your senses. Peter’s grip tightens at your words as he moves you even quicker against his thigh, the coil in your stomach that had already been wound tight, tightens even further and can feel the cliff edge of your orgasm approaching so very quickly.

“Yeah baby? You gonna cum all over my thigh?” You nod your head, reaching your hand up to grip at Peter’s shoulders so tightly that you're sure you’ll leave behind crescent shapes from your nails or even draw blood. Peter groans at the sensation, his cock already semi-hard again from watching you unravel on his thigh, he never thought he would be in pain (he experience enough of it on a daily basis) but yet here you are proving him wrong with the way your hands had previously tugged at his hair and the way your nails are currently biting into his skin and causing his cock to twitch at the sensations.

“Go on then princess, cum for me.” There he goes again with that stupid pet name that you should hate but instead has you melting into him even further, your clit throbbing as it rolls of his tongue like liquid gold honey that seeps deep into your bones. Peter tenses his thigh once again and you feel every ridge of hard muscle under the cloth of his trousers and it sends you spiralling off the cliff edge you had been teetering on as your orgasm sends shockwaves through your body.

Peter watches your face as it contorts in pleasure from your orgasm wracking through your body, ignoring the wetness that had now gone through his pants and was coating his thigh, and he swears you’ve never looked more beautiful and another image is forever ingrained in his mind. His cock was now fully hard once again and twitching against his stomach begging for some kind of attention or friction, which he grants it by removing his hand from it and giving it a few pumps but it wasn’t enough, no, Peter was feeling greedy now. He already felt the bliss of your mouth and tits wrapped around him and now he wanted more, no he needed more. Needed to feel your pretty little pussy wrapped around him and squeezing him.

Peter makes a quick decision while you’re still coming down from your orgasm and wraps the hand still holding onto you around your waist and twists you both around so that you were now lying on the bed with your legs hanging of bed with your butt just on the edge and he was now kneeling down in front of you with both hands on your knees, holding your legs apart as he eyes up your soaking wet cunt.

It almost makes you feel self-conscious, almost has you trying to squeeze your legs closed but Peter's firm grip and his superhuman strength stops you no matter how hard you strain against him, you simply cannot win against Peter in a battle of pure strength. The self consciousness erodes away and the words of discontent that were forming on your tongue are replaced by a porn-staresque moan as Peter dives in and licks a stripe up your cunt and latches his mouth onto your clit. `The sound causes Peters dick to twitch against his abdomen.

He hums against your clit, the vibrations adding to the immense pleasure you were feeling, and slowly pushes a single digit into your weeping hole to start prepping you to take his cock. He pumps in and out of you, finger curling in and pressing against your gummy walls as he does, you moan at the combined movement and sensation of Peter sucking on your clit and feel the coil in your stomach already start to tighten once again.

Peters free hand trails up your abdomen with a featherlight touch that you barely feel over the pressure of him fucking his finger into you, you really only become aware of his other hand when he pinches at your nipple and pulls at the metal of the piercing, the pain melding in with the pleasure in such a way that your eyes are rolling to the back of your skull and you miss the way Peter stretched you out by entering a second and third finger into you.

The coil in your stomach is impossibly tight, tighter that it ever has been and yet you doesn’t snap as Peter releases your clit with a ‘pop’ but he continues the ministrations with his fingers, rubbing against your most sensitive spot with every thrust, “God princess, you taste absolutely amazing and feel so amazing clenching down on my fingers, I can’t wait to feel you clenching on my cock.”

The praise falling from Peter’s lips goes straight to your head and causes you to clench around his fingers even harder, he presses harder into your g-spot and pulls on your nipples once again causing a wanton moan to fall from your lips, the coil in your stomach starting to reach it’s breaking point. “You gonna cum again baby? Go on, cum all over my fingers and face.” Suddenly Peter’s sucking on your clit once again and your eyes are rolling back in pleasure as it overwhelms you and you see nothing but stars as your orgasm overwhelms your senses.

As you cum all over him, your juices squirting over his fingers and rolling down to his wrist, he removes his fingers and instead starts to lap up everything you have to give him, moving the hand on your nipple down to hold your waist against the bed as you begin to write in overstimulation of Peter tonguing your entrance.

The sound of a whine finally pulls Peter away from your pussy and he stands from where he was kneeling, your juices now coating his mouth from your explosive organism, you look angelic with your hair spread out in a halo around you and a blissed out expression on your face, eyes wide and chest rising up and down rapidly as you try and catch your breath. In between your breaths, you reach out to Peter and he gladly leans in, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him down into a passionate kiss that is all teeth and tongue as you try and get as much of Peter as you can.

Peter is the first to pull away from the kiss and starts to trail kisses down your neck, stopping occasionally to bite and suck on your skin leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake. The sensations have you whining, desperate for more as your needy cunt clenches around nothing, “Peter…” Peter smirks into your skin and places a gentle kiss on your collarbone before he rises and stares down at you with a raised eyebrow, “Need you…”

“Need me where princess? Come on baby use your words, tell me what you want”

“Please Peter…I need to feel you inside of me… please please fuck me” Your tone is begging, a whine falling from your lips at the end of the sentence, and who was Peter to deny you when you sounded so pretty begging for him inside you. Peter grips the base of his cock and rubs himself along your fold, coating himself in all your wonderful wetness as a lubricant, as the tip of his cock catches on your clit you let out another whine and Peter smirks at the sound. “Peter…please…enough teasing.”

Peter lines himself up with your entrance and looks up at you for confirmation and as you nod your head he slowly slides himself in, letting out a low groan at the sensation of you stretching and clenching around his cock. It's a groan that is drowned out completely by the moan you let out. Peter moves so slowly you can feel every part of his cock as it rubs inside of you, all the veins and ridges all piling onto the pleasure you’re experiencing and as he bottoms out inside you you let out a small, pleasurable whine.

You have never felt so full before in your life, no other partner you had filled you up just as much as Peter does, and it felt absolutely amazing. With Peter spending time prepping you to take him, you barely feel any pain and it takes only a second of Peter being fully sheathed inside you before you start beginning him to move, it’s a request he’s glad to fulfil as he slowly pulls out before slamming back into you and starting an almost brutal pace.

As Peter thrusts in and out of you at a rapid pace, you wrap your arms around his shoulder and dig your nails into the flesh, the pain of which combines with the pleasure of your cunt squeezing his cock and pulls a deep moan from Peter that has you dragging your nails down his back leaving red marks in your wake to hear it again and again. Your own moans join in with Peters as his cock hits against either your g-spot or your cervix with every thrust, driving you absolutely insane with pleasure to the point that black dots began to gather in your vision as another orgasm rocks through you unexpectedly, a result of combining the after effects of your previous orgasm and the pleasure currently coursing through every nerve in your body.

Peter lets out a deep groan as you clench around him, eyes moving to watch his cock piston in and out of you and at the white ring of your cum that had gathered around the base, “Fuck princess you feel so fucking amazing on my cock, squeezing me so good.” You try and form words, anything to show Peter just how amazing he’s making you feel, but you can’t. The words die in the back of your throat and are instead replaced simply by whines and moans but they’re still sounds that make Peter’s cock twitch inside of you.

Peter continues his assault on your pussy, chasing his own high, the pattern of his thrusts becoming irregular and scattered as he rapidly approaches his own orgasm. “Fuck…princes I’m going to cum” He was going to pull out and cum on your pussy and stomach, never had any intention of cumming inside of you until your soft voice quietly calls out an “inside.”

His eyes snapped up to meet yours and something feral reflected in them, “You want me to cum inside you princess? Want me to fill you up?” You nod your head as best you can and Peter slows down his thrust

“Oh God, yes Peter…please fill me with your cum.”

Peter speeds up his thrusts once again, hips slamming hard against your pelvis and balls slamming against your ass, the squelching sound of your pussy and the slapping of skin fills the air and joins the erotic symphony of your combined moans as Peter chases his high, the only thought in his head being how pretty you’re going to look with his cum dripping out of your pussy. It doesn’t take long until Peter trusts become sloppy and he sheathes himself completely inside you, tip of his cock pressed right against your cervix as he shoots rope after rope of hot cum inside of you with a loud groan.

Peter almost collapses on top of you, but he stops himself by placing his forearms by your head and using them to support his weight as his eyes move over your face, watching intently as you catch your breath and slowly come back to reality after three orgasms. He gently brushes one hand across your face in an attempt to ground you and as he cups your cheek to rub a thumb across the skin, you reach for his hand and cup your own around it. “You okay?”

You nod and turn your head to place gentle kisses on the palm of Peter’s hand, which has him smiling down at you gently and placing his own soft kisses against your forehead, “I’m going to pull out, okay?” You nod again, eyelids fluttering slightly and a small whine leaving your lips as Peter removes his cock from inside you, the stimulation a little too much. Peter whispers a gentle “sorry” and places more comforting kisses against your face and shoulders, the hand on your cheek continuing to rub against your skin to try and comfort you.

Peter places a gentle and loving kiss against your lips, the tenderness acting as such a juxtaposition to how deeply and roughly he had been fucking you moments before. You smile into the kiss, hand curling around the back of Peter’s neck to play with the baby hairs at the base. Peter pulls back from the kiss with a smile and pecks your nose gently, the cloudiness that had previously been in your eyes fading slightly as the skin to skin contact you have with him grounds you back to earth.

“Do you need anything? A shower, a bath, snacks?” You take a deep breath, pulling Peter down so he’s even closer and nuzzling into his neck, inhaling his scent as deep as you can and placing a light kiss against the skin, “A bath would be nice.” Your voice comes out soft and just above a whisper, had Peter not been deliberately paying attention he would have missed it.

“Okay princess, let’s run you a bath.” Peter goes to lift of you, but you keep him tight in your grip and wrap your legs around his waist, further restricting him from moving and going to draw you a bath. You let out a noise of discontent as he tries to pull away once again and Peter chuckles slightly at the sound. If you weren’t willing to let him go, then he was just going to have to carry you, which he did as he wrapped and arm around your waist for extra support and stood with you in his arms.

“Don’t worry princess, I’ll take good care of you”

---

Tony approaches Natasha at the bar, wanting a drink but also a little curious as to where you had disappeared too. You were on his arm when you both entered the party, though you quickly separated from him to go and socialise with people your own age after you had greeted all the necessary benefactors and he remembers seeing you with Parker briefly and then with America and Shang-Chi, it was their first Avengers formal event so he assumed you were reassuring them, but he hadn’t seen you since and he was getting just a little worried.

Nat, having seen Tony on his way towards her, places a glass of scotch, neat, on the bar top and smirks to herself as he grabs the glass and downs it in on go before he starts questioning her. “Have you seen my daughter?”

Natasha lets out a small hum and leans forward on the bar, using her forearms to support her weight as she does so, “I might have.” Tony rolls his eyes at the Widow and lets out a huff of air, placing his empty glass down with a little more force than necessary.  Natahsa’s smirk grows into a knowing smile as she glances to the door that both you and a certain spiderling had disappeared out of about 2 hours earlier and had yet to return from. Tony follows her gaze and he feels his heart tightening at the thought you had left with someone, “She left with someone?”

Natasha nods her head, “‘Bout 2 hours ago.” Horror slowly fills Tony, you would only be away for that long for one reason and one reason only and it was not one he was ready to consider for you. Despite being 21 years old, you were still hes sweet, little girl and the thought of you being sexually active was horrifying. Not only that, most people here that weren’t members of the Avengers were his age and older and he did not want you mixed up with them and there were very few members of the Avengers around your age, well specifically one and as the thought crossed his mind Tony started to glare at nothing, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he did so, “Parker”

Natasha laughed at Tony, a full belly laugh that had her throwing her head back as she did. After she settled down her laughter enough, she was able to grab onto Tony's shoulder to stop him from storming into your bedroom and seeing something he really did not want to see, “Oh come on. They’re young, let them have their fun.” Tony huffed out once again, as Pepper's voice filled his ears. He hadn’t even noticed her coming up beside him and taking his hand in hers to calm him down, though his temper flares again as Natasha speaks up once again.

“At least it’s not Barnes she’s running off with.”

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Mr. Barber’s feelings for his cleaner are more than professional.

prompts. | Andy Barber + Yandere + “Think an old man like me can keep up?” + conditioning/grooming, requested by @baalsgurl1913!

pairing. | Dark/Yandere!Andy Barber x female!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON (mostly dubious consent), abuse of power, stalking, yandere, obsession, spying, orgasm (f), large age gap (reader is legal), grooming/conditioning, gaslighting/manipulation, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics

You’ve always had a soft spot for Mr. Barber—and it seemed he had one for you, too. 

You would clean the Barbers’ house every now and then when Andy and Laurie’s jobs made them too busy, and their son couldn’t bother to learn how to help out. You didn’t mind it. They paid a good amount and were always so kind to you.

But that was before it happened. And now Mr. Barber hires you because he’s grief-stricken, and you’ve known him for so long.

It’s not hard to tidy up behind him. He has manners, and you can’t help but feel bad for him. Andy’s entire life fell apart, and everyone watched in amusement.

Everyone except for you. No, you would never. You’re a good girl; he knows it. So sweet with your patterned dresses and adorable sweaters. You tell him ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ for every little thing, giving him those eyes that make him want to wreck you on the spot.

It really isn’t his fault that he watches you outside your work hours. He has to keep you safe anyway—don’t you know there are dirty criminals on every corner? And, plus, you made him do this. You’re too pure, too wholesome—and all his. Even though you don’t know it yet.

“That’s it for today, sir. Is there anything else you need?” you hum, light jacket on your shoulders with your purse on the chair since you just polished the countertops. “Actually, there is something else you could do for me,” Andy says, grunting as he stands up from his spot on the couch. 

He stayed there the entire time, making sure you did your job well. You didn’t mind.

“Oh, what is it?” you ask, already shrugging your windbreaker off. “Have a drink with me?” he offers, walking to the fridge. He grabs a beer for himself and a coke for you, knowing that you wouldn’t want to drive home with alcohol in your system. But you don’t have to worry. Not anymore, at least.

“Er, thank you. You’re always so kind to me, sir,” you tell him, sitting down on the couch. He joins you, his thigh touching yours. You involuntarily try to make yourself smaller, nervously giggling at the contact. When you look up at the much older man, he looks different. Pained, almost, with dark eyes and a clenched jaw. Is he upset? Did you do something wrong? Worry gnaws at you.

Andy looks down at you and remembers when you first started working for him. It was a warmer day than usual, and he had come home early at Laurie’s request. She was worried a young thing like you—who had turned eighteen a few months prior—would steal something valuable from the house.

She didn’t know that the only priceless thing had become you, and the worth of their home would decrease drastically when you weren’t there.

You take a sip of your chilled drink, resisting the urge to chug it after all your hard work.  

Andy places a hand on your thigh, but you don’t think much of it. He’s done this before, especially when he feels you’ve been exceptionally good that day.

“Y’know, honey… I really appreciate you coming here so often,” he starts, patting your leg. You smile, slightly embarrassed by the attention. “Really. I mean, you’ve put up with me for so long—through everything…”

You nod sympathetically, knowing what he’s referring to. 

“I just feel like I owe you. More than a raise or a gift,” Andy admits, and you start shaking your head. “No sir, really. I’m fine—thank you for everything. I already have so much,” you say. He quirks an eyebrow.

“Do you?” he asks, puzzling you. You take a larger gulp of the Coke. “Yeah…” 

“Don’t lie, sweetie. I know you don’t. Going back to that little matchbox of yours? With your slob of a roommate waiting for you to clean her messes?” he scoffs, and your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What do you mean, sir?” you question.

“You know what I mean. I’ve seen it all, honey. I can give you so much more—haven’t I already?” he reasons, and it’s only when you feel a chill of air that you realize that your dress has been lifted up, and he can see your underwear. Oddly, you don’t fight him. It’s Mr. Barber—kind, sweet Mr. Barber, who cracks dad jokes and isn’t afraid to order pizza nearly daily. He’s been touchy before, but you’ve never paid any mind to it. Maybe that’s how he shows love.

“And please, call me Andy. You’ll have to, eventually,” he says, inching his fingers closer to your core. Your breathing gets heavy from nerves and desire. “I– I just don’t get it, sir—I mean, Andy. I’m a little scared?…” you confess, and he coos at you.

“That’s alright, sweetie. I’m here for you. Don’t you know how much I love you? I would never hurt you.”

His words make you dizzy. You feel his large, warm hand dip into your panties, and you let out an exhale. You’ve got a vice-like grip on the glass bottle he gave you, but it nearly slips when Andy finds your clit with ease. 

“Now, I know you’re young and all…” he starts, rubbing slow circles on your nub. He can feel your wetness, and it takes all of him to not pounce on you right then. You gasp from the pressure, and your free hand reaches down to grab his wrist, but you don’t push him away. Instead, you keep him there as if he has threatened to pull his hand away and leave you a writhing mess on his couch. “Think an old man like me can keep up?” he asks, and your eyes flash to his face. He’s got mild wrinkles and a slew of greys peppered into his hair and beard. You’ve always admired the look, even though he was married. “It’s been a while, but I can go a few rounds. You get me so hard, honey.”

You quickly come undone on your boss’ fingers, and he drinks in the sight, even though it certainly isn’t the first time he’s seen you have an orgasm. And it will never be the last. 

[rottingcorps3s]

god i’m obsessed with men eating box. sue me.

konig is ravenous for some putang. little bit of mean!konig, but not too bad. overstim. mention of bruises. siiiizzeee kink bby.

this was not proofread. who has the time? ENJOY!

-

i see konig as someone who isn’t fully aware of how strong he actually is to a normal person. like yeah, he obviously knows he’s big and strong, but thats when he’s being compared to other military personnel. it becomes evident once you enter the picture. he doesn’t mean for it to happen. you’re just so fragile and…sensitive in so many ways.

once you guys were ‘official’ is when it started. konig had always been respectful of your space and your body. having never gone out of his way to seek physical contact unless you initiated it first. it was like a light switch had been turned on, day to night within weeks.

his hands were constantly on you in one way or another. first off, his hands are MASSIVE. no matter who you are or what size you may be, his hands will always dwarf your own. he was rough, unintentionally…mostly. the finger print bruises on your hips, your ankles, your ass; the hickeys that littered just below the neck of the shirt you wore. juuuussstttt barely out of sight.

it had started in a play fight, one you had initiated and frankly, weren’t prepared for. konig had just come back from the gym, adrenaline and testosterone still coursing through his veins. he just looked sooooooo good…irresistible, really. sweaty and slightly out of breath from his run back. he b-lined straight for you, like he always did when he arrived home. he yearned for his ‘welcome home’ kiss.

his arms encircled around your waist, his neck craning down to collect what was rightfully his. his eyes flashed with disappointment when his lips made contact with something other than your lips. he thought maybe he had accidentally missed your lips, but when he tried again and was met with your forehead, he pulled back. a shit-eating grin spread across your face.

“fucking kiss me.” he’d demand, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration. you had yet to say anything, only offering a quick ‘no’, smile still on your lips. before he had a chance to retaliate, you were gone. running down the hall and disappearing.

he was on you within seconds, he was a professional after all. you had just made it thru the doorway of your shared room, konig grabbed you by your arm, his leg kicking the door closed behind him. he spun you around to face him. his hands now holding both of your biceps, his fingers digging into your soft skin. definitely leaving behind a trail of bruises.

you squealed in pain from his tight grip, “ow! konig you’re hurting me!” you whined, a small pout on your soft lips. his eyes held a dark stare, your small protest not affecting him in the slightest. you’d played the same card in the past, faking being hurt to get him to knock his guard down before you’d strike. he had you this time.

“ooooohhh, schatz…” he said in a fake tone, almost as if he were mocking you, “i’m sooooo sorry…” he apologized, his grip on you loosening slightly, but not all the way. he could see the excitement in your eyes, thinking you had him wrapped around your finger again. “let me make it up to you…” he said, a wicked smile threatening to appear. you only nodded, smiling sweetly at him.

you know what they say about men with big hands…

big tongues 0_0

anyway…

just the thought of the big…hot…wet appendage toying with your clit for hours…oh brother. and it would be hooooouuuurrrrsssszzz (yes with a z).

he’d pull you by your ankles to the edge of the bed. completely towering over you as he worked on getting your shorts off. which was easy enough considering he was able to maneuver your body in ways no one ever had. your thighs would sit comfortably on either side of his shoulders, his arms wrapped around the backs of your legs, holding them tightly in place as his tongue made its first assault.

your thighs would tremble from the sudden stimulation. broken curses falling from your lips as his tongue would flick your clit back and forth, unrelenting. tears would prick your eyes as your first orgasm approached at the speed of light.

“ko-n-ig,” you pleaded desperately, your fingernails digging into his scalp to try and push him back to relieve some of the pressure. he was as still as a statue and as strong as a bull. his grip around your thighs only tightened.

the pleasure was overwhelming, washing over you like a giant wave, boarding on painful as his pace didn’t falter. tears had now begun streaming down your cheeks. so soft and sweet…one of konig’s favorite spots to kiss…

he didn’t stop, no matter how much you tried to beg and plead your case…i mean he did warn you that he was going to make it up to you…you just never asked how.

only after you had your third orgasm did he stop, his grip on you finally relaxing, his face pulling away from your wet cunt. his face dripped with saliva and cum. his breathing was labored. similar to how he walked into the house earlier, the only difference being his pupils that was blown out to the size of saucers.

oh and the cum on his face.

-

Oh my gawd i had to force myself to stop writing 😔 would’ve been here for hours.

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (10) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: coryo haunts your every moment.

word count: 1,737

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: another shorter chapter rip, reader is conflicted, pet names (petal), not proofread

“Get out of bed!” your mother said, grabbing at your blankets and trying to pull them off of you. 

“I shall not!” you protested, holding onto the blankets with all your might. She tugged harder on them, but you wrapped yourself around the edge she wasn’t holding so that you could become further cocooned. Your mother let out a frustrated shout before finally releasing her hold. 

“And why not?”

“I…am ill.”

“The King is expecting you at the ball.”

“The King can kiss my ass,” you mutter. 

Your mother shouted your name so loud that you were sure the Cardews, who lived on the other side of the square, could hear her. She made another grab for the blankets, yanking so hard that you were pulled out of bed with them. 

“I refuse to go,” you snapped, throwing the blankets off of yourself and attempting to crawl back into bed. Your mother grabbed at your ankle, stopping you from getting much further from the foot of the bed. “Tell the King I am sick or that my courses have came and I’m in terrible pain.”

“I will not tell your betrothed about your womanly issues,” your mother hissed. “Why must you be so difficult? Weren’t you getting along so well with the King before?”

Oh, you were getting along with him, if only because you were playing the role of a dutiful bride. You called him Coryo, you accept his kisses and kissed him in return, you let him hold you. When you found yourself bored out of your mind at home, you would traipse over to the palace. You would pretend it was an effort to stay close to Coryo, but truly you only sought out the comfort of the vast library. (Though, it was not as if you despised his companionship like you did before. Was he poisoning your mind by keeping you in such close proximity?) 

“I can get along with him after we are married.”

You barely saw your mother rolling her eyes. “You would best get used to getting along with him now. After you are wed, you will have to do whatever he pleases regardless of your own feelings on the matter.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She let out a long sigh before sitting next to you on the edge of your bed. She stared at her lap for a moment, then reached over for your hand. You were sure it was more for her comfort than anything for you. “When you are wed, there are things that you must do to appease your husband. To produce an heir, you will…have to lay with him.”

Your mother continued with an awkward description of what “laying with him” meant. To your chagrin, she did not spare any details about the discomfort you would experience with the act. How men are seldom kind with it. How, even after you gave him children, he would still force you into bed for his own pleasure. How you might never experience pleasure from it. Would Coryo be like that?, you wondered. He was like other men in a lot of ways. He could be cold and callous and demanding. But he was different, too. He let you be mouthy and do as you please. You often thought he enjoyed the way you would never just let things be. Coryo could be kind, in his own strange way. Would he be like other men, or would he surprise you? Would he treat you differently?

“…I think I might actually be sick now,” you murmur. You squeeze your mother’s hand, grateful for once for her presence.

“I don’t say all of this to scare you, dove,” she continued, “but I would be a failure as a mother if I let you go into this union completely blind. I would be like my mother. I would not forgive myself if kept the realities of marriage from you.”

And, suddenly, it dawned on you why your mother seldom cared for your father’s presence. He, too, was like other men.

“I …thank you.”

Your mother squeezed your hand back, then let go. She stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. “I will give you a few moments to collect yourself, then I shall send your lady’s maid in so you may get ready for the ball.”

You cannot change my entire perspective on how a marriage operates and leave like nothing happened, you wanted to say. But you still felt queasy. You worried if you said anything, you might be sick all over yourself and the floor. It would take so long to make you presentable again, you would surely be late for the ball. Coryo may be a kind man at times, but you knew him well enough to know that he would feel disrespected if you missed this event. Especially when he through all the trouble of planning it.

So, you nodded and took deep breaths, trying to control yourself. 

“Well, if you aren’t the perfect picture of a bride-to-be, I don’t know who is,” Livia said, joining you at your side as you entered the palace’s ballroom. “It almost makes me wish I was getting married.”

“I’ll be sure to let your mother know you think so. There are still plenty eligible young men, and plenty of time left in the season,” your mother said, holding back a laugh, before slipping off to join the other mothers of the ton. 

Livia nearly grimaced. “Perhaps I should have waited until you were alone to say that.”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about that. She doesn’t mean it. She can’t tease me anymore since I hit back harder, so she’ll aim for anyone she perceives as weaker.”

Livia looked unconvinced as she watched your mother laugh with hers. “We’ll see. If I end up engaged by the end of the week, I will write you to a letter to say I told you so.”

“Or you could tell me in person.”

Livia blinked. “In a week’s time, you’ll be in your honeymoon period with the King. By the time I see you again, I could be married and off for my own honeymoon.”

“Oh. I…I forget that it’s so soon. So much has happened in such a short while.” And, oh, how you wanted to tell her. Or perhaps not Livia specifically, but someone. Tell someone about the secret deals between your father and Coryo, how Sejanus tried to convince you to run away with him, how you’ve pretended to like Coryo for so long that it didn’t quite feel like pretending anymore. 

“Perhaps then I should remind you?” a teasing voice came from your side, followed by a kiss to your cheek. You painted a smile on your face as you looked up at Coryo. “I can’t have my bride forgetting such an important day.”

“You shouldn’t have swept me up in such a whirlwind then, Coryo,” you said. It still felt strange to call him by his nickname, especially in such a public setting. It was a bit more natural in private, when there wasn’t prying eyes and listening ears abound. This felt too…vulnerable. Like you were exposing yourself to the ton. 

Coryo beamed, his pretty white teeth sparkling. Even if calling him by his nickname left you feeling vulnerable, you knew it put you in his good graces. You had hated seeing him so enraged at Sejanus, worried about the lengths he would go to prove you could not be stolen away from him. Calling him Coryo was the only way you could get him to see reason. 

“Ah, but then I couldn’t do this, could I?”

In front of everyone, Coryo pulled your face close to his, planted his lips right on yours. It wasn’t his usual sort of kiss, all tongue and teeth. No, this was softer, gentler. A kiss that made you believe that maybe he did love you all of these years, that he did truly propose three times before finally getting to call you his. When he pulled away, a soft smile on his face, you had to force yourself to tear your eyes, to ignore the quick thump-thump-thump-ing of your heart. 

Oh, but looking away was worse.  

For it seemed like the entire ton was enraptured by your kiss with Coryo. So you looked back at him, hoping that the ton would fade away from your peripheral vision. 

Coryo’s hand found yours. He intertwined his fingers with your own, his thumb rubbing the top of your hand. “I want to show you something,” he said to you. To Livia, he said, “If you’ll excuse us, Miss Cardew.”

Without waiting for her to say anything, Coryo pulled you away. He led you through the crowd, ignoring anyone who attempted to start a conversation with him. He was the perfect picture of focused.

“Do I get to know where you’re stealing me away to?”

Coryo huffed out a laugh. “I’m hardly stealing you away, petal. You looked overwhelmed out there. I thought you might like some fresh air.”

He took you out to the balcony that overlooked the gardens. You chose to focus on the beautiful rose bushes you could see, the white petals shining under the moonlight. “That tends to happen when everyone is watching an unmarried woman be kissed.”

A brow raised. “I can’t kiss my wife?”

“Of course you can,” you said. You offered a teasing smile. “When I am your wife. Until then, it’s private kisses only.”

“We’re in private now.”

“How convenient for you.” You placed your hands on his chest as he grabbed your waist. “Did you bring out here on false pretenses? Playing the role of my knight in shining armor so that you might continue to defile me before we wed? My, my, you are such a snake.”

“Would you blame me if I did?”

Yes. No. Maybe. You were never less sure of anything than you were about Coryo. He burrowed  himself under your skin, tore you from the inside out. But when he was sweet, oh, he could be sweet. When he was like that, you were half convinced that your teeth might just all rot away. Snow was everything that you hated, but Coryo could be everything that you loved. Damn him for containing multitudes. 

“Just kiss me. Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

[yaksha-lover]

i’m obsessed with the thought of vil falling for someone who’s ugly. especially if it’s a forced proximity trope. triple points if it’s enemies to lovers!

there’s just something about a guy obsessed with beauty is shown that beauty doesn’t equal to value that melts me

omg i actually was obsessed with this concept a few months ago and i wrote a very short unfinished drabble (set in medieval au) about knight!vil falling for ‘ugly’ knight!reader but i didn’t think anyone would want to read about an ‘ugly’ reader 😭😭

i definitely agree tho the concept is so perfect for vil imo. like the idea of this guy who’s so fixated and obsessed with beauty (especially one who’s potentially been told that much of his worth lies in his looks) who ends up falling for someone very unconventional completely unintentionally. like theres’s a whole internal struggle in him that he doesn’t want to fall in love with this person. they’re an enemy, and unattractive at that.

but then he just can’t help but falling in love with their character; when they give hope to him and represent a goodness that he’d lost. someone who is called ugly and unwanted everyday by the world and manages to keep their head held high even if tears are pouring down their cheeks.

i think that’s a quality he’d admire a lot; kindness even when the world has been unkind. he wants to be good like that too. in a way, you’re like a mirror of the kind of goodness he wants to see in himself. you’re made fun of and put down at every turn and yet you do not let that stop you from being nice. whenever someone mocks vil, he can’t let it go, he can’t let himself be kind because it hurts and that’s the only protection he’s found.

also the idea of consciously thinking someone is unattractive but unconsciously starting to notice their eyes and lips and desire settling in- help-

unfinished drabble under the cut 👉👈 (also its fem reader bc i think medieval gender roles and the idea of ‘ugly’ woman x hot man couple is kind of important to the theme lol - aka this is just jaime x brienne rewritten but anyway-)

Vil truly believed you were ugly when he first met you. He almost never truly meant the term, but in this case, it was appropriate. Most everyone you encountered agreed. He could tell by how you’d stayed stone-faced at his cruel taunts, apparently used to it. Your features were just a bit too extreme, too out of place, too different. He’d used your appearance against you, scratching at every insecurity you’d thought of and probably some you hadn’t. Still, you hadn’t gotten angry as he’d hoped. You didn’t seek to harm him, even when he knew he’d struck a sore spot.

He persevered, but you’d never given in, despite his hopes that you would become blinded enough by anger and pain to give him a chance to escape. He admired you, in a way. It seemed as though life had beaten you down long before he’d come along, but a hardened rock had emerged from the erosion.

Sometimes his words would cut too deep for you to ignore. You never did anything rash, to his dismay, but he could tell they affected you. He didn’t feel bad; why should he? He was your hostage, and you his captor. Even if you were performing your duty, you were getting in the way of his own responsibilities, his life.

Vil was surprised to learn that you were a high-born like himself. Well, not exactly born to a family of his status and wealth, but a high-born nonetheless. He’d realized that he should’ve been addressing you with your Lady title, but you’d fought at soon as he’d tried.

No matter my origin, you know that no man sees me as a lady, Sir Vil.

-

They came, and they cut off his hair. One of them taunted him for being a beautiful husk. So they’d cut a deep gash across his face. Now your outside matches your inside, ‘Sir’, they’d mocked.

Vil had wished they’d cut off his head instead.

Later, after you’d managed to convince them to let you treat his wounds, he’d bemoaned to you.

Now we’re both grotesque, he’d said, a pair of freaks.

You’re not ugly, you just have a scar, you’d replied. You turned away from your task to face him. You’ll never know what it means to be ugly.

Even with his bitter remarks, you treated his wounds all the same. When he was too afraid to face himself in the reflection of the lake, you’d been the one to peel away his bandages and force him to look.

See, you’d said, not a monster, just a man.

He’d wondered if you were an angel at that moment, a saint. Or maybe you were a witch destined to lead him astray. He hadn’t really cared either way.

[wigglywormy]

I’m currently Very drunk

And all I can think about is dkbk, and deku being So strong that even without their quirks, he can so easily pin bk down. and I cannot get it out of my head. Have yall SEEN how swole deku has gotten??? It’s insane and I’m going feral over it

Deku just teasing bakugou with the gentlest of touches, his hands rough but so careful, and bakugous just blushing so HARD and squirming and cursing but deku is just smiling so sweetly at him. Bakugou’s palms sparking and deku just goes “no quirks, remember?” And bakugou growls at him, and deku’s still a little but shorter but he’s a fuckin brick house, and bakugou cannot move an inch no matter how hard he tries

And like. Bakugou hates that he loves it. He hates that this stupid nerd can over power him so easily, and he’s actually fighting back really fuckin hard, there’s bruises and bloody lips and it’s messy and painful but then deku starts tickling him, and bakugou siezes up, and he chokes out this cute little giggle that deku becomes OBSESSED WITH, and god sorry I’ve had a whole bottle of vodka and I’m just word vomiting but i need bakugou flushed, red, sweaty and crying a lil bit, and deku just being so nice but so MEAN, and bakugou is trying to fight it so hard that it just makes deku even meaner, and i want bakugou to be so fuckin stubborn that he begs for it to stop but when deku asks him “are you sure?” Bakugou just groans in frustration and doesn’t reply so deku keeps going.

I should stop rambling this is getting insane LOL can y’all tell I’ve been in a fuckin ler mood lately I NEED TO BE DEKU SO I CAN FUCK BAKUGOU UP. HE NEEDS IT I PROMISE LOL.

[bloody-bee-tea]

A truth for a truth

Shouta can tell that something has Shinsou agitated the moment the boy steps into the gym. He doesn’t even try to hide it, which makes Shouta think that for once maybe surprise wins out over fear or pain and the need to hide them, like it so rarely does with Shinsou and yet Shouta still waits until he’s standing right in front of him to speak.

“What?” Shouta asks, not worrying about his tone in the slightest because Shinsou has been training with him for weeks now, so the kid knows how Shouta operates.

And they have found that usually less words work well between them. As if to prove him right, Shinsou huffs out an annoyed breath before he looks Shouta in the eyes.

“Your hell-class has accused me of being your kid,” he states, and it prompts a frown from Shouta.

“They know I teach you. That would make you one of my problem children as well,” Shouta easily says, because he’s long past pretending that he doesn’t use the moniker with great fondness but to his surprise Shinsou shakes his head.

“No, I mean—they accused me of being your actual love child, with an as of yet unnamed woman,” he clarifies and oh. Yeah, okay, that makes more sense, considering that his hell-class is involved.

“As of yet?”

“That guy with the double quirk certainly has theories,” Shinsou almost spits out and Shouta bites back a laugh.

Yeah, Todoroki has shown a tendency to obsess over one tiny detail for far too long and then come up with the most outlandish theories. It’s kind of hilarious, most times, so Shouta fails to see how it could agitate the kid so much.

“And that upsets you?” he asks, because he’s not a mind reader, despite what the rumors say and Shinsou huffs out another breath.

“What upsets me is that half of your class nodded along with that guy’s outlandish theories but then they laughed all straight in my face when I told them that it’s highly unlikely, seeing how you and Mic-sensei are almost disgustingly married.”

Now that brings Shouta up short. The staffs knows of their marital status, of course, but they make it a point to keep it a secret from the kids and to be found out so easily, doesn’t sit right with Shouta, despite the fact that it’s just Shinsou. He doesn’t mind at all if the kid knows about their marriage but still. He shouldn’t have been able to figure it out in the first place.

“Now what would make you say that?” he wants to know and levels Shinsou with a look; one of the few that still work on the kid.

It works now as well, because Shinsou drags his shoulders up to his ears and shuffles from one foot to the other.

Shouta raises an eyebrow when Shinsou stays silent.

“Permission to speak plainly,” he finally mutters out and it almost makes Shouta laugh, because for all that he’s giving the kid a hard time right now, it’s hardly that serious.

“What do you mean?”

“I want you to promise me that no matter what I say next will not get me expelled or punished or—I don’t know, make you mad at me. That I can talk freely.”

Shouta immediately tenses as he’s reminded that Shinsou clearly did not grow up in a loving home if he has to clarify that, but this, at least, is easily rectified.

“Permission granted to say whatever you want,” he gives back and Shinsou takes a deep breath before he goes off.

“It’s just—so obvious,” he almost spits out and before Shouta can ask for more clarification, Shinsou goes on. “You go all—soft around him, and I don’t just mean the way you slouch when he’s in the room, because your slouch becomes more relaxed when he’s there, but your face—” Shinsou points an accusing finger at Shouta’s face and Shouta almost feels as if he’s done something wrong. It’s a novel feeling. “I’m pretty sure you don’t move a single muscle but whenever Mic-sensei is there your face does this thing, where it goes all soft, here,” Shinsou points to the corner of his eyes, “and here,” and then his mouth.

In all honesty, Shouta wasn’t aware he’s doing any of that, and Hizashi hasn’t pointed it out either, but maybe the kid is on to something. It’s worth inquiring after, later.

“Mic-sensei took a phone call in the middle of class one day, and he very loudly and very clearly called out ‘Shou-chan’. As far as I am aware Shouta is your first name so—” he trails off with a shrug but then seems to find his groove because he ploughs right on and Shouta is way too entertained to interrupt him, no promise at all needed in the first place.

“You always carry something for his throat around and he has your eyedrops at the ready and you may think you’re all subtle with the way he always just conveniently carries two cups of coffee when he arrives at school, but let me tell you, you’re not. Not to mention that you always get his cookies from the vending machine when you go for one of your jelly packs.”

Shinsou takes a deep breath, but he’s clearly not done yet.

“And you’re so—you’re always slightly annoyed with Midnight-sensei, though in that way that only friends have, and then you’re barely tolerant of Vlad-sensei and you’re downright hostile with All Might and really, Mic-sensei should be the same, because they are both loud blondes with blinding smiles but you’re just so—unbearably fond of him. Sure, you snap at him and he riles you up on purpose and you threaten him with your quirk when he threatens you with his but it’s so—” Shinsou lets out a frustrated groan. “It’s like you’re dancing to a song only you two can hear and you’ve been doing that for years, you have to, because it makes no sense otherwise. You wear a ring around your neck, at all times and even though Mic-sensei hides it well with his gloves, he's literally wearing a wedding ring all the damn time, too and you bicker! Like a disgustingly married couple. Which you are!”

Shinsou takes a few deep breaths before he completely deflates again.

Shouta is almost disappointed, because while all of that is true, Shinsou didn’t mention the most damning facts. Shouta has not been trying to keep his relationship with Hizashi a secret around him and he knows Hizashi is the same, though really, Shinsou should have picked up on so much more than he already has.

And as if just to spite him Shinsou speaks up again.

“And I’m only deliberately mentioning the things everyone can see. You all but said to me in private that you’re married. I know what it means when you say the staff knows you at that one restaurant, when you tell me you two have favourites together, when you leave training together. I’m not stupid.”

“Clearly,” Shouta drawls out and waits for anything more from Shinsou, so he doubts that he still has something up his sleeve.

“I’m done now,” he hoarsely whispers and it’s an unwelcome reminder that Shinsou is clearly not used to talking so much or so loudly without being interrupted and this might not be the right choice right now, but Shouta has to take a chance here.

“Am I wrong about any of that?” Shinsou wants to know when Shouta is too busy formulating his plan to speak but that finally gets him going.

“How about a deal?” Shouta asks and he clearly has Shinsou’s attention with that already. “How about I’m allowed to speak plainly for now as well, without you yelling at me, or getting angry, or shutting down and running off, and after I’m done we both tell the other if we are right or wrong?”

His words have left Shinsou tense and worried, Shouta can tell, and he almost wants to take it back, knows that it’s almost unfair, because the stakes are not at all the same for the two of them, but they’ve been dancing around this topic for so long. And Shouta is tired of it.

Tired of Shinsou flinching after several days at home, tired of spotting poorly hidden bruises, tired of faint marks on Shinsou’s face. He just wants him come to him with this, to ask for help, to accept help. Shouta just wants to get the kid out of the house he’s currently in and take him home, to his husband and his cats and a life he deserves.

And if he has to go about it this way, then so be it.

“Fine,” Shinsou bites out and Shouta doesn’t waste another second.

“Your home life is shit,” he plainly says and doesn’t let Shinsou’s flinch stop him. “They are keeping necessities from you; clothes that fit, stuff for school, money, even food.”

He personally made Shinsou’s meal plan, specifically tailored to him and the amount of training he’s doing and he should have put on so much more muscle than he actually has which can only mean one thing. He’s not eating enough and Shouta would bet his hero license on the fact that it’s not voluntary.

He’s being starved at home.

“They hurt you, physically but also verbally.”

Shouta doubts that Shinsou came up with half the insults he calls himself almost daily on his own.

“Sometimes they don’t allow you to come home at all. They threaten you with punishment. You’re not allowed to ask questions, probably not allowed to speak much at all and if you do, there’s a—”

Shouta’s voice fails him here briefly because he still remembers the tears running down Hizashi’s face as he makes helpless sounds behind the muzzle strapped too tightly to his face and the knowledge that it’s happening still, and to one of his kids, is almost unbearable.

“There’s a muzzle,” Shouta manages to finish and he doesn’t miss how Hitoshi ducks in on himself, as if he has to brace for a hit.

“You know it’s wrong, and you hate it there, but you’re too scared to say something because you don’t know where you’ll end up next and it could mean you have to pull out of U.A.,” Shouta goes on, and he’s certain in this, because he has seen Hitoshi’s file.

There are too many foster homes to count, too little time spent in too many of them and he doesn’t even want to think about the amount of trauma the kid must have accumulated.

“Are you done?” Shinsou spits out when Shouta is quiet for a moment too long, and he guesses that’s fair.

“I am,” he agrees and watches how Shinsou jerks his head to the side, and he pretends he doesn’t see the tears glistening in his eyes.

“Great, then how did I do?” Shinsou demands to know and Shouta gives him a small smile, because this right now, is the second part of this entire spiel.

“Not too bad, kid,” he admits. “Hizashi and I are married and have been for almost ten years now. But there is one thing you don’t know.”

“And what’s that?” Shinsou asks, still too rough, too sharp but Shouta’s smile doesn’t waver.

“We both have foster licenses. And we’re more than prepared to take in a kid, or, let’s say a stubborn, sassy, diligent, hard-working teenager from Gen Ed with a mob of unruly purple hair. Under the Emergency Foster Protocol at first, because that way the teenager would have to go home with us on the very same day, but we’re prepared to go through the proper channels to make it permanent. And then later official.”

It prompts a shuddering breath from Shinsou and Shouta is not too alarmed when he sees tears sliding down his cheeks.

“So, how did I do?” Shouta throws Shinsou’s words right back at him and for all that he knows that this is emotionally very difficult for Shinsou he was not quite prepared to find himself with an armful of sobbing teenager, so they both fall to the floor in an undignified heap.

Not that he minds it much, because Shinsou is clinging to him and surely that must mean something.

“They also sometimes lock me into the closet,” Shinsou gets out between his sobs and Shouta bites back his almost automatic response of ‘Wonderful’.

He and Shinsou have an understanding, sarcasm and sass one of the things they share between each other, but he doubts that the kid has even a thought to spare for that right now.

“Not anymore, kid, not anymore,” Shouta reassures him, because there is not a single universe out there where he will allow Shinsou to step back into that environment ever again.

Shinsou only clings tighter to him, hiding his face in Shouta’s chest as he cries and cries but not once does Shouta tell him to stop, because clearly Shinsou needs this out of his system.

It takes him a while to calm down again, time Shouta spends cradling the crying boy to his chest, but eventually Shinsou falls silent.

“Mic-sensei won’t mind?” he rasps out and Shouta shakes his head.

“I can call him right now, if you’re worried. He’s on his way to the radio station but since you’re coming home with me now, he’ll want to be there anyway.”

“He can’t cancel his show for me!”

“Kid, he cancels his shows all the damn time, that’s just the risk of being a teacher and a pro hero. It happened before and it will happen again and he won’t mind at all, I can promise you that.”

“I don’t—he’ll be mad.”

“He won’t be,” Shouta gives back and then takes the decision out of Shinsou’s hands, because he has no idea just how excited Hizashi will be.

Shouta gets his phone out and presses the speed dial before Shinsou can even think to protest and it takes Hizashi less than three rings to accept the call.

“Shou? Everything alright?” he greets him with, his voice tinny because he’s clearly still driving and Shouta can just picture him balancing the phone on his thigh.

“Shinsou is coming home with me today,” Shouta plainly states and feels how Shinsou tenses against him.

“Finally,” Hizashi breathes out, the relief so stark in his voice that there’s no way Shinsou can miss it. “He finally asked for help?”

“More like Aizawa-sensei cornered me,” Shinsou speaks up and Shouta pats his head.

His hair really is soft. Maybe he’ll have to do it again, and often at that, he decides when he notices how Shinsou leans into the contact.

“Hey, there, little listener, how are you doing?”

“Have been better,” Shinsou admits between sniffles.

“He figured out that we’re married,” Shouta tells Hizashi because he’s still very proud of him for that and it makes Hizashi laugh.

“Yeah, if anyone would, it’s him. I told you he’s smart.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Shouta sighs out when Shinsou ducks his head in embarrassment at hearing that. “You coming home?”

“Of course I am! I’ll bring take out, what are you in the mood for?”

“Can you drive to that diner next to the cat café? The staff knows our orders, and you like their food as well,” Shouta suggests, because he thinks it might be a bit much, forcing Shinsou to think about anything right now and Shouta has taken him there enough times after training to know that the kid likes the food there.

“Sure. I’ll also call Tsukauchi, to get the ball rolling. Shinsou, kiddo, you’re safe now and I’m very proud of you for letting yourself get cornered.”

It prompts a new sob from Shinsou and Shouta decides it’s much more important to hug him close again than to say goodbye to his husband, so he simply hangs up and throws the phone down, so he can better gather Shinsou up in his arms.

“We’ve got you now, kid, it’s going to be okay. I promise.”

He doesn’t expect Shinsou to respond, not really, because clearly the kid has other worries right now—mainly breathing—but he still speaks up.

“I trust you.”

Shouta wasn’t prepared for the way that simple statements makes him feel warm all over but he’s beyond glad that it’s the case.

And he and Hizashi will make very sure to never do anything to make Shinsou regret that decision.