#it's over four hours until i can go home why is every day i'm here just an exercise in suffering

[binch-i-might-be]

.

[ceesimz]

the taste of victory

(blurb after golden key to the sweet life + pt2)

"I knew you would be here."

Still in her Spain kit, this time with a gold European Championship medal around her neck, the effervescent captain came bounding over, understandably still on a glory high.

The Euros was a tournament that had plagued her ever since that injury, but now after coming out of international retirement, she'd done it. The trophy belonged to Spain for the next four years and Alexia had every right to relish in that fact like it was her first time winning a competitive title.

"How could we not come all this way?"

You, also in a Spain jersey, but who needed medals and trophies when there are two children on each side. Alexia had both achievements, one can only imagine her joy.

"You won, Mami!" Anaís squealed, her lanky limbs wrapping around her favourite champion just like a koala. Oriol was a bit more reserved, as he often was, definitely taking more of his Mami's introverted nature compared to Anaís who was the exact opposite of shy.

"Finally!" Alexia laughed, watching on as you rolled your eyes at her whilst she crouched down, Anaís still attached, so that Oriol could join. "Thank you both for coming. I'm sorry you had to miss your party."

Back in Spain, your neighbours were having a get-together for one of their four children they had that were all around the same age as Oriol and Anaís. The party they were due to host was the talk of the town, with a bouncy castle and a swimming pool and enough food to feed the whole of Spain, but ultimately Anaís and Oriol couldn't turn down the chance to fly to a new country to watch their Mami win yet another trophy. This was a pretty damn good excuse to not only miss the party, but throw one too when you all get back home.

You had flown on your own to watch two of the group games for Spain whilst your children stayed back at home for school until summer break, and the, albeit short and rare, time spent alone with Alexia was a welcome venture as it had been a while since that had happened. But being together as a four, celebrating the one title Alexia was missing from her vast list of accolades, well there wasn't much that could beat it.

"Felicitats, Mami." Oriol, the soon to be four year old, mumbled into Alexia's ear with his little arms clasped behind her neck.

"Grácies, amor meu." Alexia whispered, scooping him up with one arm as she holds Anaís' hand in the other and makes her way over to you.

There was a look in her eye, one you had never seen before. It frustrated you to no end that you couldn't quite place it, but that was something that would have to be unpacked another day.

"Family photo with the trophy? It is tradition." Alexia grinned at you, only for Anaís to groan beside her. "One photo, chiqui, then you can go play. Put Vicky in goal."

To no one's surprise, it looked like Anaís was swiftly following in Alexia's footsteps, whilst Oriol seemed to be a budding artist as he never went anywhere without his crayons. The two couldn't be more different, yet they got along better than most siblings, even with a larger age gap. Wait for the teenage years, Alexia would say anytime you brought it up, only for you to flick her ear and tell her to stop manifesting it.

"Mami, why do they call you a dinosaur?" Oriol asked innocently as the four of you headed over to the ceremony stage, oblivious to the painful jab he'd just sent his mother's way.

"Because she is old, Oreo." Anaís giggled to herself, sticking her tongue out at Alexia. The midfielder stopped in her tracks, turning to you with a displeased face.

"Amor, take him." She murmured, quickly handing over her son before lifting Anaís up by her armpits and sitting her on her shoulders. "Am I old if I can still do this? Pequeña mona, you are so cheeky. I just played two hours of football and won, yet you still call me old. What do I have to do?"

"Buy me some new football boots and we can forget this happened." You bursted out into loud laughter at that, because the only person Alexia had to blame for that sass was herself.

"Bien. You cannot call me old for a year yet, only when I am cuarenta. Mama is just one year younger than me, she's old too, no?"

"You just earnt yourself a night on the sofa when we get home, Ale. Another achievement, congratulations." With a sarcastic pat on her back, you march ahead of her as she's left scrambling to make up for her comment.

Ever since the word relationship was properly introduced to you as a teenager, you would worry that after being with the same person for so long, speaking to them everyday and sharing the same space, that it would get difficult and cracks would form. That never came to be true, in fact if anything, the foundations of your relationship only got stronger. There were days when things weren't easy, especially with two young children, but you couldn't have chosen a better route to go down.

It really had unlocked a life of bliss, just as the golden key had once promised.

"Oye, get back! It is our turn!" Mapi shooed away Anaís as the younger girl skipped over to the trophy.

The object was currently in the hands of Ingrid, with Mapi at her side and their two adopted children stood in front. Not so long after Alexia initially retired from the national team, Mapi had hung up her boots altogether. Ingrid was still playing, a senior figure for Barcelona and third in line of the captaincy role, whilst Mapi had flourished in the role of a stay at home mother. The Norwegian had taken a short break to make sure their children, a boy and a girl who were siblings, transitioned well into their home, and eventually their favourite weekend activity was going to watch their Mamma play.

"Hurry up, León! You didn't even play! And Ingrid isn't even Spanish!" Anaís bellowed, jumping head first into a teasing argument with the Spaniard at the outrageous claim she had made about Ingrid.

With that came a momentary quiet moment for just the two of you. Or, with Oriol too, but he was tired and more than content to slump against his Mama and take in the world around him. Alexia glanced over at her daughter and smiled seeing her bicker with her chosen family, before turning back to you where you were lightly rubbing your son's back to help him settle in the bustling environment.

"I cannot tell you how happy I am that you all came, cariño." Alexia told you quietly, moving to stand side-on so she could face you and also see Oriol's sleepy face. Her smile only brightened at both sights, and she raised an arm to rest around your waist whilst the other settled atop yours on the boy's back. "It is always the best surprise in the world, seeing you three in the stands."

"We would never have missed this, Ale. You must know that by now." You said to her, nudging her lightly.

"Well, I don't want to put pressure on any of you. It is a big ask from me to want you all to fly out here, but you did it anyway and I will always be thankful for that. You must know that by now." She reiterated the phrase back to you with a coy smile, one that deepened as you rolled your eyes affectionately.

"So, how do you feel? Eres campeóna de Europa." You grinned up at her, bumping your hip against her own as she chuckled and casted her eyes down to the medal hanging from her neck.

"It feels like completing the final chapter of a very long book, mi amor." She revealed after a moment. 

There it was again. That look in her eye.

“What's that?” You asked in confusion. She could only shrug and turn to look at her surroundings. Taking it all in. The moment feels very… final.

“I don't know. I just… I think this is it. What else is there for me to do?” 

You understand now. What she's hinting at is as gutting for you as it surely is for her, though it's probably at immeasurable heights for her. Definitely. The realisation steals your breath at first, solely because of the prospect of it, until it falls flat and the dust settles immediately. Because, really, who are you to argue with it.

“Are we on the same page?” You wondered quietly, and her eyes glistened with that familiar shine in the flood lights of the stadium.

“I think we are.” She smiled, one filled with an absurd amount of emotional complexity. It holds all stages of grief, yet peace can be found in it that tells you she's known this for some time. For a brief moment, you wish she could have shared this discreet burden, but it's a habit of hers you've never managed to break and at this point, you don't think you ever will.

“Qué, Mami?” Oriol suddenly lifted his head up, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Nada, mijo. Ven aquí.” Alexia gently pried him from you and cuddled him closely to her, her eyes closed as she rested her head against his. “Mami gets to spend more time with you now, mi tesoro, how good is that?”

“Sí, Mami. Tired.” Oriol muttered, turning to hide his face in her neck.

“Lo sé, Oriol. We can go rest soon, just a few photos, vale? Can you do that for me?” 

Almost four years with Oriol, a further seven with Anaís, and the sight of Alexia seamlessly slipping into caring parent mode was still a sight to behold. She had just won the one title that had evaded her for her whole career, yet the only thing she wanted to focus on was her family. And that was what made you want to have children with her in the first place. All these years, all the trophies and titles and achievements later, and she hadn't changed at all.

“Ale.” You hummed, catching her attention as she looked back at you with a soft smile and glossy eyes.

“Sí?”

You paused, hesitating over the one phrase that had tumbled easily from your tongue since your fourth date with her. The hesitation wasn't a bad one, you were just stumped on how to express such an intense feeling. Three words didn't seem sufficient enough. 

“I love you.” Of all the times you had said it before, this one felt the strongest. This one felt like it held the most meaning.

“I love you too, amor.” Alexia replied simply, though the slight quiver in her voice and the bob of her throat revealed she understood the gravity of it too. 

“Te amo.” Oriol sighed, and you suspected the goosebumps on Alexia’s arms weren't from the chill of the evening nor from Oriol's breath on her neck.

“Te amo mucho!” Anaís hugged Alexia's leg after bounding over, placing an exaggerated kiss to her hip.

In one place, on the pitch of a stadium somewhere in Europe, Alexia had got it all. One of the most notable careers of all time in the world of football, and a family with enough love to keep each other afloat through any and all storms.

Her eyes were closed as she hugged both her children, and had you looked away a second earlier, you would have missed how she wiped a tear that slipped out. In an instant, you joined your family, with one arm around Oriol and Alexia and the other on Anaís’ back where she stood hugging her Mami.

“Come on, let's go get your final photo as a futbolista before you hang up your boots.” You said, kissing her temple where she hung her head to fully embed herself in the embrace of her loved ones. 

It seemed like now was the moment it all came to a head for her, where every loss and victory, injury and medal, every sacrifice and gain, it all subsided and she was left with this one last memory of the sport she had given her life to. Truly, there was no other accolade she could collect. She had made every second of her career worth it, the only thing she could do now was reap the benefits. 

There was no doubt in your mind that, in a few years, she’ll be back to the sport that’s in her DNA at this point, except as a coach with the same goal she had as a player. But that’s a future worry, because for now the only item on the agenda was to make sure the final photo of her career is one of carefree, unabashed joy with your children.

With one final wipe of her tears from you, she took Anaís’ hand again and kept Oriol in her hold whilst your hand lingered on her back, and led the four of you to where the trophy was calling her name.

“What does it mean to hang up your boots, Mami?” A quiet but slightly blubbery chuckle came from the woman you loved, before she sniffled and looked to her left at you.

“It means I am going to retire from football, mija.”

[babydollmarauders]

WRAPPED UP IN A BOW — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which y/n welcomes Quinn home with a gift

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, praise, oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected). (3.1k words)

notes: welcome to day 8 of the 12 days of kinkmas!

a week. seven days. one hundred and sixty-eight hours.

that’s how long my husband has been out of town.

four road games done and over with and now he’s finally coming home to me.

in retrospect, getting married at the very end of the summer wasn't the best decision Quinn and i have ever made. with no time for a honeymoon before he had to be back in Vancouver for training camp, and then hockey season starting, we've had barely any time to relax and bask in the joy of being newlyweds.

which may be why i'm feeling particularly in the holiday spirit. one more home game and then we get almost an entire week to laze around, celebrate the holidays, and just enjoy the life of being newly married.

i’ve spent the last three days decorating our apartment; a wreath on the front door, our tree with ornaments hung gently on the branches, mistletoe over every doorway. miscellaneous holiday themed trinkets are scattered throughout our home.

but my favorite part of the past few days isn’t the decor, or the music i’ve had blasting, or even the christmas cookies i baked. rather, it’s the idea that popped into my head while shopping for all of the said decor online; when i found a body bow.

and after numerous hours, which were impatiently waited through, and countless youtube tutorials, i sit perched upon the end of my bed, wrapped snugly in the red satin bow.

my breasts are tied high and taut, pushed together tightly by the soft fabric and half covered by the oversized bow; while a strip of the satin reaches over one shoulder and through my legs. technically, all intimate areas are covered, but with one tug of the bow, it would all unravel, leaving me naked and ready. a present for my husband to enjoy.

my eyes are glued to my phone, Quinn’s location dancing across the screen, getting closer and closer to our apartment with each passing second.

it’s not often that i would be awake so late, waiting up for him. often times, i’m asleep when he gets back from a roadie, only waking up when i feel his strong arms wrap around me in bed.

as his location pings at our apartment complex, my heart beat rises in my chest, excitement pulling at my every atom. i’m shaky, phone haphazardly tossed onto my nightstand before i get into position; legs crossed and my weight leaned back on my hands.

it feels as though time is dragging on, towing through metaphorical mud. seconds feel like hours as i wait to hear him enter our apartment.

all the lights are off leading into our room, adding to the illusion that he’ll find me fast asleep.

i’m so lost in thought, knees bouncing in exhilaration, that it isn’t until i hear footsteps bounding down the hall that i realize he’s arrived. blood whirls in my ears, my skin heating up at the mere thought of his touch.

“no, she’s probably asleep.” his words carry through the echoey hallway, “Jack, i’m not waking my wife so you can ask her relationship advice. just call her tomorrow.”

i bite back a laugh as i listen to the one sided conversation with his brother. Quinn’s voice turns hushed as he gets closer to our bedroom, obviously attempting not to ‘wake’ me.

the doorknob twists, the door creaking open to display my husband. his head is down, phone pressed to his ear as he carries his road bag into the room. even from here i can see the crease thats formed between his threaded brows, dark bags accentuated under his green eyes.

he turns, gently closing the door behind him with minimal noise, but when he turns back around, his eyes meet mine. his eyes widen, lips parting with a gentle huff of air before he mutters a quick parting to his brother.

“i gotta go, just call her tomorrow.” the call is quickly hung up, his phone set on the dresser with his bag, never breaking eye contact.

“welcome home.” i watch with a crooked smirk as his eyes rake over my figure, slowly dragging down my body before scanning his way back up.

“fucking shit.”

a giggle rises up my throat at his curse, his steps towards me hurried. he sinks down to his knees, eyeing the intricate bow that graces my body. with his hands finding my knees, he carefully pulls my legs apart so that he can fit between them.

“shit, baby,” he pauses, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for a moment, “this all for me?”

i nod, peering down at him with the most innocent eyes that i can summon.

“mhm,” my tone is quiet but sultry, “played so well, and i missed you so much.”

he stands, towering over me now with a dark expression, his pupils blown out in lust.

“yeah? you missed me?” he questions, coaxing a nod of my head, “how bad?”

“so bad, Quinny.” i whine, hands grasping at his tie.

“did you touch yourself? you push your fingers into your pretty pussy? imagine they were mine as you made yourself cum in our bed?”

his words elicit a broken whimper from my throat, my eyelids fluttering as he wraps a hand around the back of my neck, forcing me to tip my head up to him.

“did you imagine my head between your thighs?” his voice drops, “my tongue licking your wet cunt? making you scream?”

my legs are shaking to close, to clench together and bring some much needed relief to my soaked core; but his body blocks me from doing so.

“yes.” i breathe out, eyes closing as he dips down to capture my lips in a bruising kiss.

his tongue slips past my parted lips, the result of a sudden gasp after his fingers curl into my hair, tugging just slightly.

the kiss is messy and deep, tongue’s tangling and pushing against each other, and when he pulls away, saliva coats my lips.

“lay back, baby.”

i drop back at his demand, hair sprawling across the soft mattress behind my head, and watch as best i can as my husband lowers back down to his knees until i can no longer see him.

it’s not but a second later that i feel his soft lips brush against my inner thigh, kissing a path up my leg. an unignorable pulse sparks between my thighs, thumping harder with each kiss, as he gets closer and closer to my wet heat.

wanton moans break the silence of the room, my body quivering with lustful anticipation; but before he can reach the spot in which i need him most, he pulls back, steadily repeating the process on the opposite leg.

a muted whine pulls from my lips as he shifts his path, bypassing my covered core and kissing up my torso. our eyes lock in a heated exchange, neither set looking away, as his open mouthed kisses reach an end, the oversized bow blocking his path.

but just when i think he’ll back away, he captures one tail of the bow between his teeth, slowly pulling back to unravel the satin knot. the glossy fabric falls off my chest, pooling around my body, revealing my bare breasts. my nipples are peaked with desire, stiffened by a mixture of lust and the cold air.

Quinn stares down at me, admiring my exposed figure, before he continues his journey, pressing wet kisses up my sternum. as he reaches my throat, he begins sucking, teeth grazing against my skin before he presses his tongue against it, pulling away to blow cool air against the spot.

shivers travel down my spine, my back arching up into him as he finally presses his lips against mine once more.

“so beautiful.” he mumbles, his hot breath fanning across my lips, swollen and indented with the mark of my teeth.

dragging himself back down to his knees, my jaw slackens as his breath hits my core.

“you’re dripping for me, baby.”

his tongue darts out, licking a slow stripe up my cunt, and my head tips back further into the mattress, my legs pulled over his shoulders as he groans.

“you really are a fucking gift.” he growls, his fingertips tightening in a bruising grip on my thighs.

my breath catches in my throat, blood rushing to my head as his tongue flattens against my clit. he wiggles it back and forth, softly playing with the bud of nerves.

my hands fly forward, tangling into the fluffy waves of hair that fall onto his forehead. as his tongue tenses, trailing down to flick into my entrance, he spreads my wetness, earning a harsh tug of his hair.

my grip coaxes a laugh of confidence from my husband, his chuckles reverberating through my core, and a screamed cry of pleasure echoes off of our bedroom walls, his name falling from my lips like a solemn prayer.

“Quinn, please,” i whimper, a single digit swiping through my wetness and making my voice falter into a high pitched moan.

“doing so well for me, baby.” his praises set my skin alight, heartbeat thumping in my throat.

his middle finger delves slowly into me, curling up into my g-spot as his lips enclose gently around my clit. pumping in, he slowly gets me ready, slipping his index finger in when he deems me lubricated enough.

my thighs close around his head, his free hand snaking his way around to push my leg open, a choked sob of arousal leaving my throat.

i can feel my orgasm creeping up on me, my stomach tying in knots as my eyes roll back.

suckling at my clit, he rolls it softly between puckered lips, his fingers alternating between hooking upwards and scissoring my cunt, slowly stretching me out and preparing me for his cock.

as his fingers speed and his tongue begins to circle and flick against my clit, my legs shake, hands gripping tighter into his hair while curses fall from my lips.

“Quinn,” tears gather along my waterline at the immense wave of pleasure that rolls through my body, “oh my god, right there!”

the tips of his fingers push against my g-spot with every thrust, my back arching as i can feel myself get closer and closer to the edge.

my husband moans, vibrations carrying through my core and spurring me over the edge. my walls tighten around his fingers, trapping them inside of me, and my hips grind against his soft lips as i reach my release.

heavy breathing sounds through the room as i lay back in ecstasy, recovering from my intense orgasm. pulling his cum coated fingers from my dripping pussy, Quinn’s lips pull away from my swollen clit with a pop.

“you taste like heaven.” he hums, coaxing my eyes to open, watching him suck his fingers clean of my release.

“Quinny,” i breathe out, hands reaching out to pull him forward by his tie as he rises from his knees, “i need you.”

“i’m right here, pretty girl.” he gruffs, a hand resting on the bed next to my head, holding himself up as he hovers above me.

he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the spot where my jawline meets my ear. trailing up until he reaches my chin, he suddenly diverts, his lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss.

our lips dance together, his free hand grazing up my body until he reaches my breasts. his thumb rubs over my stiffened nipple, circling it lightly before pinching, the stark contrast drawing a moan from deep within my throat.

i can feel his erection pressing against my upper thigh, my hips jolting up into his in order try and relieve some tension.

pushing lightly at his chest, Quinn immediately backs away, worry filling his eyes, “what’s wrong? did i do something?”

rather than answer, i sit up, beginning to untie his tie. i pull it free from his collar before my hands push at his suit jacket.

“take it off,” i whine as my hands fumble, “all of it, Quinn. i need you. i need to see you.”

his hand cups my cheek, thumb rubbing over my cheekbone as he chuckles, eyes looking into mine.

“get up on the pillows,” he gruffs, watching with fervor as i follow his command, kicking the long forgotten satin fabric off the bed and onto the floor. “good girl.”

sitting with my back propped on the pillows, i watch my husband undress; his suit jacket tossed on the dresser, his button up dropped to the floor as well as the undershirt, before finally the clink of his belt sounds through the silent room.

i admire his upper body as he undresses, mentally praising all the hard work and training that’s led to his muscular arms and tight physique. my mouth waters and i yearn to press kisses to his pale torso, but i stay rooted in my spot, knowing better than to move.

fully naked, his cock stands tall, fully erect with a pink tip, precum beading at the slit, and i don’t think before my hand reaches out, wrapping around his length as he crawls over me.

i squeeze just slightly, my thumb running over his tip and spreading the precum, earning a hiss of satisfaction from my husband.

“stop,” he groans, vocal chords tight, “you want me to fuck you, right?”

i peer up at him with innocence, nodding my head quickly.

“then don’t be a greedy little slut,” my hand drops at his words, allowing him to take a deep breath, “hands and knees, baby.”

i scramble into position, craning my neck to watch his facial expressions as he grabs his base, guiding his cock through the lubricant of my residual cum.

my body shivers as he glides himself through my slick folds, wetting his dick thoroughly. he slides over clit, my legs instantly wobbling as i make a silent squeak.

“Quinn,” my voice shakes, but before i can continue, he’s pushing into me, my back contorting as he runs a hand over my spine.

“that’s it, baby,” he coos after i let out a loud moan, “take it like a good girl.”

i reach back with one hand, desperately grappling behind me for his touch. my request is granted when he grabs my hand, holding it in earnest as his other holds my hip.

“fuck me,” i cry, pushing backwards to sheath him entirely inside of me, “please, i need you to fuck me.”

Quinn clicks his tongue against his teeth, my head hanging forward as he stills, teasing me. i part my lips to begin begging again, but he silences me quick, pulling entirely out before slamming back into me.

he drops my hand in favor of gripping both hips, fucking into me with harsh and unforgiving thrusts.

my arms feel like jello beneath me, quivering with every graze of his tip against my g-spot, until finally i fall to my elbows.

his thighs smack against mine, each thrust pushing me further up the bed until i have to place my palms on the headboard, keeping me steady as my knees dig into the memory foam mattress.

“so fucking wet,” he grunts, pulling my focus to the lewd sounds of his cock sliding through my wetness, “my pretty fucking wife, so ready for me; so easy to please.”

i whine at the use of ‘wife’, the title still bringing goosebumps to the top of my flesh.

“yours,” i gasp, eyes rolling back as he slows his strokes, angling his hips for his cock to run over my g-spot, “all yours. your wife.”

“yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he breathes, “you like being my wife? you like letting me fuck you and call you mine? forever.”

his hand slides to my front, sprawling over my stomach before dipping down to let his finger apply pressure to my pulsing clit.

“yes!” i squeal, hips jerking from the pleasure, “yes, Quinn, yes!”

his finger draws circles on my clit, thrusts speeding as i clench around him.

“who am i?”

my stomach fills with pressure, toes curling as my hair falls into my face.

“my husband!” i scream, legs shaking underneath me.

his finger never relents, my overworked clit tingling, and i can barely stutter out that i’m close before he’s leaning forward, pressing kisses to my sweat coated back.

his soft lips against my heated skin send me over the edge, my eyes drawing shut as i let out an intense breathy moan. my walls clench but his thrusts never ease, only fucking into me with more intensity as he chases his own high, and within a minute, he finds it.

his hips falter, his grip tightening on my hips as he lets out a strangled cry, ropes of cum spilling out of him and mingling with my own.

it’s silent as he stops, nothing but heavy pants and the squelching sound of him pulling out, before he lays down, finally allowing me to drop onto my stomach beside him.

a breathy chuckle leaves his lips, my face buried into the pillow beside him, and he reaches over to scoop me into his arms, helping turn my body until my head is resting in the crook of his neck.

“what a welcome home present.” he laughs, still out of breath, and i giggle into his neck.

“figured you might like that.” i yawn, eyes fluttering shut as i rest a hand on his chest, “well worth staying up.”

“hey,” he coos, head back away in order to look at me. i pry my eyes open, staring up into his, “don’t go falling asleep yet, baby. you need a bath.”

i groan, attempting to burrow further into him, “but i’m so tired.”

he rolls his eyes at my drawn out whine, gently nudging me off of him so he can stand up.

“i’m gonna go draw a bath and get some wine. you don’t fall asleep.”

i nod sleepily, pulling myself up in a sitting position to keep myself from dozing off.

it’s not but five minutes later that Quinn returns, helping me into his arms and carrying me into the bathroom. he sets me down into the hot water of the bubble bath, grabbing the wine glasses off the counter and handing them to me before he slips in behind me, taking his glass back.

having out a deep sigh, i relax into his chest, his free arm wrapping around the front of my waist.

“so,” i start, making him laugh at my tired tone, “how was the trip?”

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field V

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k (she's long today DAMN)

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and discussion of abuse, so read with caution!!

masterlists // nav // requests

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a/n: head empty, no thoughts. only this fic. but i should say if you enjoy it please reblog!! it means so much to us as writers, and who knows! maybe one of your mutuals is missing out on their future favourite fic ;)

next part

You're about to walk out the door, heading to the academy to meet Coryo before the games start. To try and prepare as best you can.

"Y/N, wait." Your dad stops you as you reach for the handle, and you quickly turn to him. 

"Yes?" You know better than to rush him, but you already were running slightly behind schedule.

"Good luck today." He says and you nod at him.

"Thank you."

"And don't let Coriolanus down." There it is. "He is helping you, he didn't have to do that. Don't ruin this for him. If he needs anything, get it for him. If he tells you to jump, ask how high. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." You nod, a pit forming in your stomach. The pressure was on, not that it wasn't already, but now it was so much more real.

"Now, hurry up. Don't keep him waiting." He dismisses you, and you don't have to be told twice.

When you reach the academy, you rush inside. You were always rushing places, these days. The building was almost deserted, it was still quite early, but only two minutes until the time you agreed to meet Coryo in the courtyard. The Games were set to start in just under three hours, and you weren't sure what you would fill that time with, but that is what he asked of you so that is what you will do.

The last you had seen him was only about four or so hours ago, when he walked you home after stopping at the zoo to bring Lucy Gray the arena layout and he gave her a compact. One she promised to give back after the games, after crying over what today would bring. You felt bad, but mostly because you felt it was somewhat inconvenient that she would waste time over tears when you had important information for her on where to go and how to hide. This was valuable to her. Every moment counted if she wanted to walk out of the arena alive.

You spot Coryo pacing the courtyard through the window before you push it open, stepping out onto the path as the cool air brushes over your skin. It was July, but the mornings were still crisp.

"Sorry I'm almost late, I-"

"It's okay." He interrupts you as you get closer. He really only wanted you there for company, and he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep in this time anyway. "How are you feeling?" 

"Fine, if a little tired." You shrug. "You?"

"Fine." He echoes your answer, just standing there staring at you in the silence. He really wasn't afraid of silence- but you were.

"What about your back? Recovering okay? I have some extra morphing if you're in pain." You offer, already reaching for your bag just for the sake of giving yourself something to do with your hands.

Confusion takes over his features. "Morphling?" He asks, brow furrowed. "Why do you have that on you?"

"Migraines, twisted ankles, cramps..." You answer. "You never know when you'll need some." You hold the small tube out to him, but he shakes his head, pushing your hand down. 

He was sore, it wouldn't hurt, but something about taking it from you felt wrong. "No thank you, I'm fine." It would make sense that you would have it, though it was only accessible by prescription. It was likely your dad who prescribed it to you, if only so you could have it on hand. Or because he knows how often you're hurting, or he doesn't want you acting hurt- exposing the irony of having an abusive father who's also the most sought-after doctor in all of the Capitol. Morphling numbs the body, but also the mind. It's highly addictive, expensive to those who could access it, and not for the faint of heart- but you showed no signs of addiction. You must not take it often, therefore there's no real reason for him to be worried.

"Suit yourself." You shrug, tucking the vial away again. "Let me know if you change your mind. We have a long day ahead." 

He nods in confirmation, joining you as you sit down on a bench nearby. "What did you give Lucy Gray last night, anyway?"

"A compact?" He feigns confusion, knowing the true implications of your question.

"Duh, Mister President." You tease. "I meant what was in it?"

Coryo chews on the inside of his cheek, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He has to answer casually, lest face your anger issues when he shows any guilt about cheating. "Uh, nothing." That wasn't a total lie, he just left out the part where he implied that Lucy Gray could find something within the cage at the zoo that would fit nicely in it, something like rat poison.

"Nothing?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. "You just gave her that as a gift?"

"Something like that." He shrugs, and your expression reads as though you're not buying it. "If she happened to find something to put in it, something that could help her, that would be just an unrelated convenience."

You freeze, staring at him in disbelief. "Coryo." You whisper, slapping his shoulder to get him to look at you as you read between the lines. "Something like rat poison? That's cheating! Are you kidding me right now?"

"What?" He defends, sitting up straighter as he looks over at you again. "It's my only shot! If she doesn't win, I can kiss the prize goodbye."

"It's not about her winning, Coriolanus. It's about the efficacy of the mentorship! Dean Highbottom said-"

"Dean Highbottom despises me, winning is the only thing I can do to get him to even glance at my mentorship as an option." He argues and you groan, burying your face in your hands.

He watches you, and suddenly feels regret for his decision. If only because you didn't approve of his actions. "Okay." You sigh, dropping your hands into your lap again and sitting up straighter. "Okay. We can work with it. As long as she is smart about it, we won't get caught. And like you said, we didn't do anything. It was just a gift."

"I warned her. She knows." He assures you. Really, there's no harm done unless you get caught. And should Lucy Gray become the victor, your life plan will fall beautifully into place. It will be worth it, you're ashamed you didn't think of such a thing first.

After everyone else arrived, the two of you decided to make a fashionably late entrance, walking into the newly decorated hall, containing many students and professors alike, the large screens against the back wall displaying all of the remaining tributes and the Hunger Games logo, where the games themselves will be aired. You were excited and scared all at once. 

"Y/N, Coriolanus." Dean Highbottom greets you as you enter, taking in the atmosphere. Both of you grace him with just a nod. "I'd advise you to tell your friend Sejanus to find a seat near the door..." He adds quietly before walking off, leaving the two of you confused.

Coryo doesn't seem to think too much about it, just heading down the stairs. You follow behind him, head held high to counteract any of your peer's bitter staring or laughs. Everyone knew you didn't qualify for a mentorship, and to most, you just appeared to be following Coriolanus Snow around like a lost puppy, hoping to get the scraps of his success. 

They won't be laughing when you are Head Gamemaker, that's for sure. But even then, will that not also be the scraps of his success? Him appointing you to the job of your dreams after his inauguration, will that not appear to be out of bias or pity? This isn't a question you have time to let bother you. Your future starts today.

When the games are about to start, you follow Coryo over while he decides which desk to take, deciding on one in the back row close to where you will be sitting. "Good luck." You grin, placing a hand on his forearm. 

He looks down at where your hand is brushing over his coat sleeve and he nods.

You get closer, standing on your tip-toes to whisper to him. "Snow lands on top."

A small smile forms on his face. "Snow lands on top." He whispers back, grabbing your hand for only a moment, afraid of the Dean or Dr. Gaul taking notice. That would only serve to get you both in trouble.

You sit in the first row of benches where Coryo can see you, can easily look to you for help. He's grateful to have you in his peripheral, knowing that you're there, and you're not leaving, is what he didn't realize he really needed.

You both watch silently as the tributes walk out to their designated spots surrounding the pile of rubble in the center of the arena. You were there just last night, but now it looks scarier- even in the light of day. Maybe it's because you know what you are about to witness. All you can do is hope Lucy Gray won't be the first down.

Your heart drops into your stomach when the camera pans to show Sejanus's tribute- the one who escaped, hung from a beam by both his wrists. It's hard to look at, and along with the gasps that echo through the hall and Lucky's commentary, you hear a chair scraping and your eyes land on Sejanus, who's now standing in the middle of the room. He's seething, you can see it in the exaggerated rise and fall of his chest and in the contraction of seemingly every muscle in his body. That's what Dean Highbottom meant- he knew Sejanus would be leaving quickly. You stand as well, your intuition telling you he won't be leaving quietly. Neither would you, if you were in his place.

In a second, Sejanus is throwing his desk and everything on it at the large screen in front of him, screaming in anger. "You're all monsters!" 

You find your feet carrying you toward the screaming boy, but he's shoving past you to leave before you get the chance to talk to him. Hug him, something. You stumble back at the contact, able to save yourself from falling as your eyes follow Sejanus out the door. 

Coryo saw you get knocked back by the force of Sejanus's misplaced rage, and he wanted to check on you. Make sure you are okay, but the games are about to start. He promised Dr. Gaul that you would receive no sympathies from him, and her eyes are burning into both of your backs so he settles for shaking his head at you when you look like you want to follow Sejanus. Doing so would not only leave him alone, but sympathizing with him would align you with his attitudes, however irrelevant to your own opinions.

"Y/N." Coryo says to you, and when you look at him he shakes his head. Stay, he's saying. It's like he can read your mind. But he needs you to stay. 

Surely, Sejanus needs you more. Surely, it would just be a few minutes. Then you remember what your father told you this morning and you smooth your shirt back down, returning to your seat. The games hadn't even started yet, and you're already facing hard decisions.

"You should go home." Coriolanus mutters to you, readjusting his posture in the uncomfortable chair.

"Huh?" You ask, looking up at him from where you're sitting on the floor next to his desk. After everyone else left, there was no use in sitting so far away when you could finally talk candidly about the events of the day.

"Go home." He repeats and you shake your head, attempting to salvage what was left of your hairstyle, which was carefully pinned back this morning.

"I can't, I'll stay. You can go home." You reply, looking up at the screen again. Nothing new had happened in a long time- but you didn't want to miss it if it did.

"Why not?" He yawns.

"My parents are expecting me to stay with you until it's over." You explain. 

Coryo sighs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "I'd invite you to stay with me, but we aren't prepared for guests." Neglecting to mention, of course, the unmaintained mess the Snow apartment had turned into over the last twelve or so years.

"Of course, I wouldn't expect that of you. One of us should be here anyway." You wave it off. "Go home, get some rest."

As soon as he's packed up and left, insisting he won't be gone for long, you make yourself comfortable in his chair with your eyes trained on the screen. You have to stay awake. Lucy Gray could make an appearance any second in search of water, food, anything. You have to stay alert. You can't let Coryo down.

You're jolted awake by the sound of gravel crunching under footsteps, echoing over the speakers from microphones inside the arena. Shit. You fell asleep, you weren't supposed to fall asleep. Immediately you're looking for Lucy Gray onscreen, looking for her body, looking for any sign of her but you see none. If there had been a fight, if she had been screaming, that would have woken you up before footsteps did.

You squint to see what's going on, eyes landing on two figures in the middle of the arena, under the beam that Lamina is lying on, still seemingly asleep. The hair on the back of your neck stands up when you realize who the two people are. Sejanus and Coryo. Your friends. Inside the arena, standing over the body of Sejanus's tribute. You recall that one of the female tributes, Lamina, had killed him and cut him down. You suspected that he asked her to- so what were the boys doing in there?

You can't tear your eyes away- what can you even do? They're talking too quietly for the microphones to pick up. Why are they even there? If Coriolanus had planned this he would have told you. This is too reckless, even for him.

You're not helping by sitting and watching. You have to get there.

Abandoning your bag, you walk as fast as you can manage out of the Academy building before making a run for it, heading in the direction of the arena. You don't even have a plan as to what you'll do when you get there. Do you go in? You'll be risking your life without a doubt. You can't risk calling them, you'll practically be summoning the most violent and angry of the tributes right to them, and to you. 

When you see the arena, there are people standing outside and several peacekeeper trucks. At least people know.

"What the hell is happening?" You ask, walking up to the first person you see. A peacekeeper.

"You can't be here, Miss. You have to go." They start to push you back and you shove them away by the front of their helmet.

"Don't touch me! My friends are in there and I need to know what's happening right now!" You're trying to keep your voice down, but you need answers- urgently. 

"Miss Y/L/N," You hear Dr. Gaul's voice and the peacekeeper lets you go, motioning for you to go over and join her where she is standing with the Dean, and people you recognize as Sejanus's parents are standing by a black vehicle nearby.

"What's going on?" You ask again, firmly as you walk up to the group.

"Sejanus got inside, we don't know who let him in. Coriolanus went in to coax him out."

"What? Why not send peacekeepers? Coriolanus could die in there and you let him go anyway?" It's hard to even believe they would allow a student to walk into harm's way like that. And not just any student, either. Coriolanus Snow.

"If we sent in peacekeepers Sejanus would run. Coriolanus is the only one he would trust so they could leave unnoticed." Dean Highbottom explains.

You scoff, pointing into the gates. "Then why are they still in there?"

"Sejanus is in a difficult place right now, Miss Y/L/N-"

"Yeah. Fuck this." You roll your eyes, taking off your blazer and dropping it on the ground before rolling up your sleeves, and making your way over to the gate.

"Miss Y/L/N, you can't go in there." Dr. Gaul half-heartedly tries to stop you.

"Watch me." You state and the peacekeepers open the gate, letting you in. She must have allowed them to, otherwise they wouldn't.

You're mindful of your steps, trying to be as quiet as possible. You hop over the turnstiles, your landing making the two boys' heads snap toward you.

"It's just me." You whisper, knowing they can't see you in the dark but the large open space will still carry your voice.

"Y/N?" You hear Coryo reply, clearly confused.

"Yeah. We have to go, come on. Come with me."

"Go back!" He hisses. "You can't be here!"

"Neither can you!" Now is not the time for fighting. For once, he needs to listen to you.

He just huffs, turning back to Sejanus, you're assuming to try and talk him down. 

"Okay, I've got a plan." You say this time walking back through the bars, triggering the mechanism. 

Enjoy the show!

You try not to wince at the loudness of the voice, knowing by now that any nearby tributes must have heard that. If the Coral's pack had heard, clearly being the biggest threat, they'd be here soon so you pick up your pace, running back to the bars that surround the arena in one large circle. 

Coryo is calling you to try and get you to stop, to leave, but his whispers don't make it to you anymore.

"Give up?" Dean Highbottom asks you from the other side, and you pick up a large rock from the ground.

"Nope." You shake your head, beginning to walk around the outside, far from the entrance before you start banging it against every bar you walk past. Just for fun, you begin to sing one of Lucy Gray's songs. Maybe, that will be less obvious of a diversion. 

When Coriolanus and Sejanus hear the ruckus you're making outside, the banging accompanied by the sound of your voice moving slowly around the outside of the large arena, they look at each other in a mutual panic. 

"Sejanus, please. We have to go now." Coriolanus pleads with him, and he looks back down at Marcus for a moment before nodding.

"But we're taking Marcus with us." 

"Okay, whatever. Yes." Coriolanus agrees desperately, already grabbing the boy's legs.

They start to carry him toward the exit, picking up pace as they hear that your diversion has worked, echoing voices working their way around the outside of the arena. That's Coryo's primary concern- until they hear what can only be attributed to a war cry from behind them, another tribute with a large knife sprinting after them. 

Wordlessly, they both drop Marcus and start to run.

Once you heard what you were sure was Coral's group running up behind you, still out of view, you changed your tune.

"Gem of Panem, mighty city, through the ages you shine anew!"

With this, you hear their confusion and anger increase tenfold, along with their speed.

You start running, dragging the rock along every bar.

"Come back, Capitol Princess! What are you so afraid of?" You hear Coral's familiar voice shout at you, getting closer. 

They're laughing now, following you around the outside of the arena. Hopefully, Coryo is out because now it's a race. You're on the opposite side now, and have a long way to go to get back around. You ditch the rock, picking up a full sprint.

You can hear them gaining on you with every step, and you ditch your pride and start to yell about halfway back. "Open the gate!" You scream, hoping someone can hear you, and open it for you to make a quick escape. Every inch you have on the three tributes following you counts, and you're losing that valuable space very quickly. You've never been much of an athlete.

You round the side of the building, seeing the gate partially open, and Coryo is standing there holding a hand out to you. "Y/N/N! Come on!"

As soon as you get close enough he grabs your arm and pulls you through, yanking you back as the peacekeepers slam the gate again in the faces of the tributes. Barbarically they slam their weapons against the bars, making you jump as you crash into Coryo's chest. He's got his arms around you now, holding the back of your head protectively as they eventually give up and walk away, stalking off like a pack of wild animals who had lost their prey; except you don't think they planned on eating you. Just killing you for the fun of it, to leave your family and the city tortured the same way it was over the murder of Arachne Crane.

You're breathing heavily and you can hear your heartbeat pounding in your head, maybe it's his. You can't even really tell. 

"You shouldn't have done that." He mumbles to you, gripping onto you as tight as ever.  He wants to scold you, tell you that you were too reckless for your own good. That you could have been killed; but he can't. He doesn't care. In this moment, he is only concerned with one thing. "Are you alright?"

You inhale, trying to focus on slowing your laboured breaths as you nod against his shoulder. You couldn't speak, even if you wanted to. You couldn't argue with him and tell him you were only trying to help, and you would argue that you did.

"Coriolanus." Dr. Gaul says, walking up and looking him over. "You'll need stitches, come back with me to my lab." She instructs and he lets you go.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks, pushing your hair back out of your eyes to look at you more clearly. You just nod, biting on the inside of your cheek.

"Fine." You assure him quietly, heart still racing behind your ribs. "Go get stitched up."

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

AM I THE ASSHOLE FOR REFUSING TO WATCH OVER MY SISTERS CAT?

please help me I'm having real trouble here.

So a couple days ago my sister found this little baby cat and decided to take it home to where she and her partner live, because the alternative would be letting it die and because she loves animals deeply.

The baby is only days old and it needs constant surveillance, something neither she nor her fiance can give because they work all day long. Here's where I come in.

Since I'm unemployed and don't really have much going for me at the moment, she asked me to go over to their house and take care of it from 8am til 8pm. Their house from mine is a 1 and a half hour bus & metro ride.

The thing is, she wants me to go and do that every single day, minus the weekends. She and her fiance had agreed to giving the cat elsewhere, I even have candidates from a Facebook post we made, waiting for a response. But suddenly she decided the cat is too cute and she wants to keep it.

I think it's unfair. Firstly, she didn't inform me of this (despite me asking all day long 'what should I reply to those messages?') until early afternoon where she asked me if I can come and watch the cat again the next day. Then she told me that she wants to keep it and when I said that I don't want to make a 2 hour trip back and forth every day she said that she wants to keep the cat but if she can't have the help she needs she can't.

This obviously made me feel guilty as hell, but here's the thing also. Isn't it unfair? Why would she keep a cat she doesn't even have the time for and mostly hand him over to me? I already have a cat I'm taking care of, albeit she's a big girl now. She will never have time for the cat and no one else she knows won't either, so the responsibility will always fall on me. They even have a trip planned and when I asked her what she's gonna do with the cat then, she said she was thinking of either handing it over to me or making me go over for the four days, which just bugs me wrong.

I do get the feeling I might be sounding really shitty. I feel shitty for feeling like this too. But I'm also anxious as hell about it. And this might be my avoidance disorder, which is why I'm asking you to tell me if I make a point or if I sound like the shittiest person alive? Please know I mean the kitty no harm, and I like him just fine, it just feels like a lot of weight on my shoulders, but also to be fair, my sister provides the milk and the box and the blankets and the feeding bottle.

So AITA?

[puppyslutposting]

Every time I'm in heat and going to sleep for the night I always have the same fantasy, so I decided to write it out into a fully-fleshed story. Hope you guys love this one! Woof woof! <3

I'm in bed, completely exhausted. It's been a long day, and I can't remember if I even locked the door when I came home but I don't really care. As soon as I got home, I threw my bag down, ran to my room, stripped naked, and jumped into bed. And now that I'm in bed, there's no force on earth that could get me to get up. My heat is annoying the fuck out of me, but I just can't masturbate tonight.

"Maybe I can just sleep it off..." I think to myself as I drift into peaceful slumber, eventually softly snoring. I didn't even get the chance to cover myself with my blanket before I passed out, so I'm laying completely exposed. Not that it matters in the comfort of my own home, right?

-But less than an hour later, I'm stirred awake by the sounds of footsteps and creaking floorboards. At first, I try brushing it off as an overactive imagination, but then I hear them approaching my bedroom door. I panic, not knowing if my mind is playing tricks on me anymore.

"I-is there someone there?" I cry out, shakily. I hear the footsteps stop outside of my bedroom door. Chills run up my spine as I can see the shadows of someone's feet stretching under the door. And then, the door slowly creaks open.

A tall, lumbering dogboy looms in the doorway, his eyes shining in the darkness of my room. He's sniffing the air wildly, until he turns to me and we lock eyes. I'm too stunned to speak, trembling slightly as I hold the blanket over my exposed body.

He slowly lumbers towards me, the floorboards creaking with every step. I back up in my bed until my exposed back hits the cold wall, causing me to quietly gasp in surprise. He's at my bed now, and he crawls onto the bed and towards me on all fours. He's looming over me now, pinning me underneath him. I can feel his warm breath on my face- and that when it hits me.

He smells... Absolutely divine. The more his breath and musk fills my nostrils, the dizzier I get. I finally realized why he's probably here- he's most definitely in rut, and I'm in heat.

"He could probably smell me through the open window in my bedroom," I think to myself. "I knew I should have shut it before going to sleep." But it's too late now. He's here and he's got me right where he wants me.

He buries his nose into my neck, inhaling my scent deeply. He moves his face slowly around my body; my chest, my armpits, my tummy, my thighs, and then slowly up my thighs, landing at my crotch. I moan quietly as he pushes his face against my warm pussy over the blanket. He growls softly in return, before grabbing the blanket in his teeth and ripping it off of me, throwing it haphazardly across the room. I squeak, intimidated by his brute strength.

He pushes his face between my thighs again, and this time I let out a loud moan. I can't help it, my sensitivity is through the roof with this crazy heat, this is definitely the worst it's ever been. His nose bumps my t-dick as he huffs my sweet scent, losing himself in the pheromonal musk of my heat.

And then, he starts licking. Lapping up my love juices like a dog who just found water in the desert. Running his big, flat tongue over my whole vulva with every lick, lubing me up even more with his slippery saliva. I'm moaning and whimpering like crazy now, and I rest my hand on the back of his head instinctively. I'm so dizzy and lightheaded from the pleasure, I don't even feel his claws digging into my thigh until they break the skin and draw blood.

I yelp in pain and flinch, which causes him to come up for air and look at me curiously. He tilts his head to the side, staring me in the eyes, before suddenly realizing what he's done. He jerks his hand away and whines, before finally speaking for the first time.

"Fuck, I'm sorry!... I'm so sorry... I don't know what came over me..." He whimpers deeply, his voice fading as he slowly leans into my bleeding thigh. Without warning, he runs his tongue over the wound slowly. He's clearly back into his rut-fueled trance as he licks up my blood sensually. Once he's had enough, he lifts his head and locks eyes with me once more.

He stares intensely at me, and I can't help but to be even more aroused as I notice a bit of blood smeared on the corner of his mouth. He must notice me staring at it, because he lifts his hand and wipes it away with a long, drawn out swipe. And then, he smirks before pushing me down onto the bed roughly.

In a flash, he's pushing his hips against mine, dry humping my bare boycunt. I can feel how absolutely rock hard and throbbing he is through his jeans and it's driving me crazy. I can't believe how badly I want this random stranger, who broke into my house, inside of me. No, I NEED him. My body craves to be bred by this random dogboy, needs to carry his litter.

I don't even notice myself reaching for his pants and pulling them down, but he certainly does. He grunts down at me needily and starts humping the air, inches away from my leaky cunt, as I finally pull down his boxers. His cock springs out and slaps against my soaking pussy with a very audible smack, sending a shockwave of pleasure up my entire body.

Before I know it, he's in me, rutting into me HARD. He's grunting and moaning with every strong thrust, acting completely on animalistic desire. His eyes are glazed over with feral lust as he stares down at my face, drool dripping from his open maw. I moan and gasp with every deep thrust as he kisses my cervix. I can't control myself any longer, and I start crying out "Breed me, please! Please!! God I need it, I need you! PleasepleasepleasePLEASE!!~"

Hearing this, he leans down and bites my shoulder hard, his sharp canines digging into my soft flesh and holding me down while he ravages my body. My entrance is getting sore now from his knot slamming it again and again, threatening to pop in with every thrust. I can feel him start to twitch hard inside of me, and realize that he must be close. I wrap my legs around his lower back, as if to signal to him that there's no way in hell I would want him to pull out. Not that he would, at this rate. I can tell his desire to breed is just as strong- if not stronger- than my own.

He growls and snarls into my shoulder as he starts trying to push his knot in, but he's struggling. It's torture for me- I feel like I need his knot in me so badly, but i'm just too tight. I whine and whimper and try pulling him in with my legs, but it's no use. I whimper "It won't fit... It's too big..." Quietly to him, but it's like he doesn't even hear me. He just starts slamming against me harder, causing me slight pain not only on my entrance but also my insides as he bruises my sensitive cervix.

And then, out of the blue, he slowly pushes his hips into mine with all of his might, and my entrance stretches around his fat knot until it pops in. I can feel the bulbous girth throbbing hard inside of me, and he finally starts cumming directly into my womb. He pants and howls loudly, like a wild animal triumphantly celebrating a successful catch. Meanwhile, my eyes roll back into my head as I moan deeply. The satisfaction from being so full is insane, it feels like I'm finally being used for my intended purpose. I feel high from the warmth of his seed shooting deep into me, causing my tummy to bulge and ache slightly. He cums so much that some even manages to spurt past his knot, which is miraculous considering how perfectly it seals my cunt.

I already know i'm going to end up impregnated by this stranger- but I don't care. I almost feel more satisfied in knowing that I'm going to grow his litter for him, and it feels like I've done a good job. I can't help but to wag my tail thinking about how cute I'm going to look with a bulbous, pregnant tummy and swollen breasts. Maybe it's just the heat talking, but I'm suddenly thinking i'd make a good puppy parent after all...

Once he's caught his breath and calmed down a bit, the stranger starts trying to pull out. The pain is intense, and I whine and try to stop him with my legs. Eventually, he realizes its just not happening, and he lets out a frustrated huff before pulling me onto my side so that he can lay down while we're locked together. He looks me into the eyes once again, this time looking more sincere, and almost loving. Then, he covers my face in slobbery puppy kisses. Normally, I would be grossed out by this, but I'm feeling so euphoric that I can't help but to giggle.

His kisses slowly get less and less enthusiastic, and I notice his eyelids getting heavy. I'm not surprised- if I rutted into somebody as hard as he did me, I'd probably be passed out by now. It seems like he's trying to fight sleep just to keep staring into my eyes, which makes me smile and blush bashfully. And then, finally, he drifts off to sleep, snoring softly and peacefully. His knot still hasn't deflated, so I figure I should probably do the same. Not like there's anything better to do, anyhow. I wrap my arms around this strange, but wonderful pup and slowly drift off, holding him in my arms. Dreaming about how adorable our puppies are going to be, all night long.~

[psychokinetic-ectoplasm]

💞A Valentine's Surprise💞

Pairing: Ray Stantz x Female Reader

This was a request by a friend that wasn't necessarily meant to be for Valentine's Day, but it seemed too good of an opportunity to pass up. The basic premise is Ray coming home after being out ghost-busting all day to find you waiting for him with a surprise.

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!

Also here on Ao3

NSFW

Ray shut the door behind him by leaning back against it and taking a breath. He was exhausted, and his back was aching from lugging around a proton pack all day. All he wanted was to fall into bed and sleep for twelve hours. However, soaking in the tub for a little while sounded nice, too. Maybe he could convince you to join him…

“Hey, sweetheart, I'm home!” he called, pushing off the door and slowly making his way back toward the bedroom. He wasn't entirely sure where you were, but he knew you were here. “Man, it's been a long day… I'm beat. I know I said we could go out if I got back early enough, but if it's okay with you, I could really use some sleep. The class five full roaming vapors are one thing, but we had two possessors back to back! I got lucky this time and didn't even get slimed. Venkman and Spengler weren't so fortunate. But we're all dead on our feet. Ha, sorry… Maybe that was a bad joke…”

He paused here to yawn and run a hand through his hair. He was so tired it didn't even phase him that the bedroom door was closed, which was unusual. “There's more, but I can tell you about it later. Hey, where are—”

Ray broke off, now having opened the bedroom door and realizing why it had been closed to begin with. His jaw dropped momentarily until a smile started tugging at his lips, and his body began immediately responding. Suddenly, he didn't feel so tired anymore.

You were sitting on the bed, obviously waiting for him, wearing only some red lingerie — that left very little to the imagination — and a smile.

“Hi,” he greeted, his smile widening.

You smirked in return. “Hi.”

You'd been waiting for him for nearly an hour, and his reaction was worth every second. It was as though Ray couldn't decide where to look first, which made you chuckle. You'd definitely surprised him. And in addition to yourself, you’d set out candles, flowers, and his favorite chocolates to be enjoyed later… But Ray only had eyes for you right now.

Ray stepped further into the room, approaching the bed. “What’s all this?”

“Well, it was going to be your Valentine’s gift, but if you’re too tired…”

“You know, I’m… I’m not feeling so tired anymore.”

“Yeah?”

Ray hadn’t stopped moving and was now crawling onto the bed on all fours up to you. He stopped when you were face to face. “Yeah.” 

He then looked down, letting his gaze drift over you, taking in the tantalizing view of your breasts through the sheer fabric covering them, and then lower, his breath catching and his cock hardening further within the confines of his pants as he realized that was indeed all you were wearing. There was a tie in the front that seemingly held it all together. Ray eyed it and idly bit his lip, wondering briefly if he could undo it with his teeth…

“You got this for me?” he asked, his fingers toying with the bow but not undoing it yet.

“No, I got it for me,” you teased. “For when I want to feel sexy.”

Ray grinned and softly kissed you. “You’re always sexy. Always beautiful. And this is… wow.”

You blushed and glanced away. He always had been very good at doing that. Your sweet man… “Thank you, Ray.”

“But you know… As much as I like seeing you in this…” He felt his cheeks get warm as he thought about what he was going to say.

You lifted a hand to his face, not wanting him to feel embarrassed for whatever he was thinking. It was endearing, really, the way his lustful thoughts sometimes flustered him. “What is it?”

Ray cleared his throat, unable to help but look over you again, his hands itching to touch you. He wanted you so badly… “I think I’d like it more if it were on the floor.”

Despite your cheeks still being a light shade of pink, your coy smile was back in place. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Ray gazed at you for a moment longer before moving to kiss you again, this time with a little more insistence. You hummed and raised your other hand to his face, your thumbs caressing his cheeks as the kiss gradually deepened. He didn't stay on your lips for very long, however.

He left a trail of soft kisses down to your neck, breathing in your scent as he went. You were wearing that perfume he liked so much. It made him feel a little giddy to know you'd gone all out for him. And he certainly wasn't going to let you down.

“Ray,” you whispered, stroking his hair. It was always so soft, even after a long day of ghost busting. “As much as I love you in uniform… Aren’t you a little overdressed for the occasion?”

Yeah, yeah he was. He then chuckled against your neck when he realized he was even still wearing his boots. “Guess so. Don’t worry, that’s easily fixed.”

Reluctantly, he moved away from you and sat at the end of the bed to remove his boots before standing to strip off his flight suit. You moved to the edge of the bed, raising up on your knees to help him undress the rest of the way. You tugged off his black shirt while Ray undid his belt and pants. You couldn't help but run your hands over his chest, loving the feeling of his warm skin under your palms. You were also quite fond of his chest hair...And Ray knew it, too, as evident by the sweet but slightly smug smile on his face.

Before you could get him out of his underwear, however, he kissed you and gently pushed you back onto the bed, lying you down and hovering over you. It briefly disappointed you that he wasn't letting you feel his skin against yours until you realized why. He'd left enough space to undo the tie on the front of the teddy. 

You could tell Ray was eager, but he wasn’t rushing. He carefully untied the bow and parted the fabric with the lightest caresses on your skin, making you shiver. He broke the kiss and looked into your eyes for a moment before kissing your cheek, your jaw, and finally, your neck again.

As Ray pushed aside the fabric, he trailed his hands down your sides, leaving goosebumps in his wake. His lips were still on your neck, seeking out the sweet spot he knew would drive you wild. He loved that he knew you so well, that he could elicit such sweet sounds and reactions from you. You came alive under his hands and mouth, just as he did under your ministrations. With that thought, he lifted you just enough to get the teddy off and let it fall to the floor next to the bed.

Ray found that spot on your neck at the same time he covered your breasts with his hands. You moaned and arched into his touch. He felt like he couldn't get enough of you, between lightly sucking a mark onto your neck and kneading your breasts that fit so perfectly into his hands… You were so perfect…

“Oh, Ray,” you sighed, your fingers threading through his hair.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered, brushing his lips against your skin. “I love you so much.”

With that, he moved on from your neck and began to kiss down your chest, replacing one hand with his mouth. He licked and teased your nipple, bringing it to a peak before moving to the other side. If it were up to Ray, he would have stayed there longer, maybe even move lower to taste you, but you both were too desperate and needy now, too worked up and aroused.

Ray got off of you long enough to remove his underwear. You couldn’t help but take in the sight of him naked. He was gorgeous, perfect in every aspect. He might not think himself perfect, but you did. And you wanted him. Badly. And there was no doubt he wanted you, too.

You reached for him, pulling him back on top of you by his hands. The smile on Ray’s face was soft as he let you guide him. Once your faces were close enough, your lips met in tandem, both of you humming as your skin made contact. You hooked your legs around his hips, pulling him tightly, intimately to you. Ray rocked his hips, which allowed him to grind against you.

“Raymond,” you gasped, breaking the kiss and tugging restlessly at his arms and shoulders. “Please, I need you.”

Without a word, Ray reached between the two of you, lined himself up, and pushed into you, both of you moaning at the feeling of him stretching your walls, filling you.

He groaned and pressed his forehead to yours once he was buried to the hilt. “Sweetheart, you feel so good.”

You nodded, running your hands over his back. “Oh, so do you, Ray. God…”

Ray pulled back just a bit before thrusting back in. It was not hard or fast, not yet; he just languidly rolled his hips, both of you sighing and gasping in pleasure. And things were already so slick between you from how aroused you were that Ray glided easily in and out. Your hands caressed each other anywhere you could reach. Eventually, Ray caught your hand, sliding your palms together until you could lace your fingers together. You both loved having that point of contact whenever you made love. Both of you always marveled at how much bigger his hands were than yours, and now was no different. His were so much bigger, but they fit together so perfectly. Just like your bodies did. 

But this wasn’t enough. Both of you wanted more.

Ray rolled onto his back, taking you with him. You sat up, your hands braced on his chest — your fingers curling into his chest hair — and your breath shaky as you ground your hips on him, making you both gasp. Even just like this, the feeling of him inside you was so damn good. But what felt even better was when you finally started moving on him, rising and falling, riding him with abandon until you found a rhythm that worked for both of you. Ray’s hands were tight on your hips, helping you for a few moments before he sat up, his arms wrapping around you and his lips attaching to your neck.

You could only moan in response and throw your head back. Ray moaned, too, louder than usual because you had pushed your fingers into his hair and tugged. He always loved it when you did that…

Both of you began to get desperate after that, no longer caring about finesse or savoring the moment. Passion was driving you now. Your echoed impassioned moans and cries filled the room as you both chased your releases. Ray's moans were music to your ears, and your cries of pleasure — cries interspersed with his name — drove Ray wild.

“Ray!” you whined. “Oh, God, don’t stop!”

He groaned, one hand braced behind him so he could snap his hips up to meet your movements. “I won’t,” he panted and took in the sight of you, from how your head was thrown back, the way your breasts bounced with each movement, down to where you two were joined. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

“Raymond!”

He hummed and caught your lips with his, swallowing your moans. You were so close, so desperate for release. He was making you feel. So. Good.

“Ray, baby, please… I’m so close… So close,” you panted and whined against his lips.

Ray managed a smile. “Cum for me, sweetheart. I wanna feel you cum around me.”

“Oh, Ray!” you cried, your head falling back again as your movements faltered, your body shuddering as you came.

Feeling you cum around him sent Ray over the edge right after you, a choked moan leaving him as he pulled you tightly down onto him, letting him spill deeply within you.

You clung to each other, riding out your orgasms and trembling together. You held Ray's head against your chest, and he could hear your heartbeat. 

Once the pleasure began to ebb, Ray laid back down and took you with him. You nuzzled and softly kissed his neck as your breathing returned to normal. Even after working all day, and now after this, Ray still smelled amazing. Whatever was just naturally him was intoxicating to you.

“I love you, Raymond,” you murmured.

Ray pressed a kiss to your hair. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

The pair of you cuddled for a little while longer before you both dragged yourselves out of bed only to properly get ready for bed. Ray got done before you, and as you walked out of the bathroom, you figured you'd find him already asleep with how tired he was, but instead, you found him sitting on the bed eating some of the chocolate.

“I thought you were dead on your feet,” you teased as you blew out the candles before cuddling up next to him.

Ray immediately wrapped an arm around you. “I am, but I worked up an appetite.” He offered you a chocolate. “Want one?”

In lieu of answering, you ate it out of his hand, making a point to let your lips slide over his fingers. Ray watched you, his jaw slack. When you noticed, you smirked up at him.

“You okay?”

“You trying to get me going again?”

You caressed his cheek and ran your thumb over the delicate skin near his eye. He looked beyond tired. “You're exhausted, Ray. I don't think you could handle it.”

Ray set the chocolates aside and lay down. You followed suit, allowing him to pull the covers over you, and snuggled up with your back against his front. Ray wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close. He softly kissed behind your ear.

“If I wasn't so tired now, I'd take you up on that challenge, but…” He could feel his eyelids already getting heavy now that he was relaxing. “I'll have to take a rain check. Maybe in the morning…”

You hummed, lacing your fingers through his and holding his hand to your chest. He was warm and solid against your back. You never felt safer than in his arms. “I'm holding you to that.”

He, too, hummed, drifting off. 

“And, Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“Happy Valentine's Day.”

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: Prologue/Teaser

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: Winter Break is fast approaching. With nothing else to do, you ask your best friend, Wooyoung, if you can go home with him and meet his family.

WC: 982

CW: Nothing, just the set up for what's to come

AN: AAH, my first series! I'm so excited for this one! I'm putting a lot into this, as this is an idea I've had since this photoshoot came out (Park Seonghwa, you'll be the death of me-)

Tag List (Please ask if you wanna be added!): @hyunjinsjeans

It was the end of November in your third year of college, sitting by the windows in your study hall period. You were lucky enough to get one for your first semester, so you used it to relax before your final class of the day. 

The large room was filled with light chatter of other students, collaborating or spending the period as a social hour. You kept mostly to yourself, not knowing any of the other people and not wanting to talk to them anyways. 

That was, until a familiar face stumbled through the doorway ten minutes after the bell rang. You looked up and smiled at your best friend, Wooyoung, who smiled back at you. He was about to make his way over to you when the professor cleared his throat, motioning for Wooyoung to come talk to him. Wooyoung held up a finger, as if to say “one moment” before he went to his desk. You couldn’t help but laugh softly. 

Wooyoung eventually made his way over to your table and sat next to you. “I got moved here because they realized they put me in the wrong class,” he said loudly. Wooyoung never cared about his volume, he just liked to talk. 

“And why did you stay in the wrong class for-” You counted the months since the beginning of the school year “-Four months?”

“Because I didn’t say anything.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I wanted to see how long it would take them.” 

Your eyes went wide as Wooyoung giggled at himself. Ever the brat, he was. 

“What class was it?” 

“One I took last year.” 

You choked and coughed, making Wooyoung laugh harder. His laugh was turning into his high pitched witch cackle that could’ve been trademarked as his. There was no other witch cackle like his. 

Once you recovered, you looked at him incredulously, to which he laughed silently in a wheeze, smacking his hands on the table as he leaned over it. The sound made a few people turn their heads, including the professor. 

“You sat in a class you already took for four months just to see if the professor would notice?!” You couldn’t believe what you were saying, it was so ridiculous. Then again, this is Jung Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung, through gasps and fits of laughter, tried to explain himself, but he devolved into giggles every time. And eventually, it made you start laughing too, until you both were trying to hold back from dying laughing like hyenas. 

A few of your classmates looked over in disdain, and the professor looked at you two over his glasses disapprovingly, but you two couldn’t care less. You’d really lucked out finding Wooyoung, and you didn’t want to lose him. 

You’d gotten put in one of your general classes together in your first semester of your first year. He came over, introduced himself, and the rest is history. The two of you hit it off, and you’ve been inseparable ever since. 

Wooyoung introduced you to his other friends as well, Yeosang and Jongho, and his “definitely not boyfriend” San. The four of you all got along well, you all hung out together when you could, went out, took each other to parties, your average college friend group. 

But you and Wooyoung had a special bond, and you were so grateful to have him.

You and Wooyoung were on the phone later that night, and eventually, you got on the topic of what you were doing for Winter Break which was coming up soon. 

“Are you going to your mom’s or your dad’s for break?” You asked him, laying on your bed, looking at your ceiling. The stupid little popcorns stared back. 

“My-” Wooyoung paused, as if he had to think about it. You looked at your phone and was about to ask him if he disappeared when he continued. “My dad’s.” 

“Did you not know?” 

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I’d rather go home with my dad. He took better care of me than my mom did anyway.” 

Wooyoung had talked about his childhood sparingly, and usually didn’t talk about either of his parents. You didn’t push, in case it was a sensitive topic, and let him open up or tell you what he wanted to. Therefore, you knew virtually nothing about either of his parents or his home life. 

You hadn’t told Wooyoung much about your childhood either. You’d cut contact with both your parents after you went to college. You still talked to a few of your cousins and some of your aunts or uncles, but you didn’t want anything to do with your parents. You hadn’t gone home for any of your breaks, the most you did was hang out with some of your cousins for a few of them. 

And as all of that came back to you, you realized you dreaded the idea of spending another break alone when all your friends went back home, and you were left by yourself. Your own family was busy this year, so there was no hanging out with them either. 

So you desperately threw out an idea, hoping it would land. 

“Hey, I know this is out of nowhere, but do you think your dad would mind if I went with you?”

And at first, there was silence. It made you start rethinking, regretting such an awful decision to ask. How could you intrude on another family like that? You opened your mouth to take it back, but Wooyoung piped up. 

“I have to ask him, but I don’t think he’d be against it.” 

You sighed heavily in relief and smiled. “Thank you, thank you so much.” 

“Hey, I still have to ask.” 

“The fact that you’re asking at all means a lot, Wooyoung.” 

“Don’t mention it. It’s what family does, right?” 

Of course. Family. That felt good to hear. 

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[penny00dreadful]

So... some of you may have noticed my fics have come to a screeching halt the last couple of months which is not like me and I am here to explain myself.

Babygirl, I have been preparing.

The end of this month is my 1 year anniversary of posting in this fandom, of posting any of my work online after not doing it for like fifteen fucking years and it has brought me so much incandescent joy, I decided I had to do something for it.

(I've also hit like... several milestones which is fucking insane like you all know I'm just some cranky bog witch, right??)

I have been working on my WIPs for over the last two months. All... holy mother of god... like nine of them???

Some of these have been completed, some I am still writing and some are mostly done.

So starting from my anniversary date, 23rd October, every second or third day, I'll be posting a chapter of something.

I have so much material built up this shit could go on until 2024

@hbyrde36 called it my own personal Penny00Dreadful BigBang... and yeah kinda! 😅

I wanted to do this to show just how much I love this community. Your kind words, your support, your unhinged ramblings, your obsessive love, your talent (for free??) it's all amazing it's so amazing and I wanted to explode forth with my love for it so I figured why the fuck not do this stupid idea??😅

All of these will be posted both to tumblr and AO3 so subscribe over there to keep updated or follow me here!

OH! And let me know if you wanna be tagged! If you wanna be tagged for a specific fic or for everything I'll add you, whatever you want.

You've made me so happy and so warm for the last year. The way I know if I'm having a bad day I just need to hop onto this side of tumblr and everything will be peaches and gravy again.

I love you guys so much. 😘🖤

Updated Schedule - (18th Feb 2024)

Fic list with blurbs below the cut, this will (roughly) be the order they're posted in:

Return of The King - COMPLETE

Steddie Vampire AU with a twist! Vampire Steve comes back after falling to the bats. There is two more chapters left and those chapters have been completed.

Comeuppance - COMPLETE

Dustin just wants Steve to be happy. So he tries to parent trap him with Nancy. Clearly they should be together. But Steve's heart doesn't even seem to be in it at all! How is he so bad at this? And Eddie is being less than helpful

Rookie Mistake - COMPLETE

My Steddie Established Relationship Spies AU oneshot that will have a multi-chapter prequel fic coming very soon after!

Eddie is "retired" and Steve has been injured on the job, so he's supposed to be taking it easy. How hard could a walk to the gas station be?

Before He Cheats - COMPLETE

Songfic! Carrie Underwood - Before He Cheats

I literally have no excuse for this one. The rotted brainworms were behind the steering wheel with this one.

One evening, Eddie gets a call from some guy named Steve dropping the news on him that his boyfriend has been cheating on him. With this Steve person and Steve had no idea up until that day.

And Eddie rarely takes that shit lying down.

Steddievember Smut - COMPLETE

No Nut November is here! One can play however he wants. The other just has to wait for December to roll around. I have no other words to describe what this will be, it does what it says on the tin. I blame the STWG discord server. Currently we're looking at four little ficlets for this.

Cat and Mouse - COMPLETE

The Steddie Spies AU Prequel! How they got together and the extreme ups and downs their enemies/rivals to lovers journey goes through. I had so much fun with this one.

And They Were Roommates! - COMPLETE

omg they were roommates.

Steve and Eddie don't hate each other exactly. They just... tolerate each other. But one night Eddie doesn't come home for hours. Long after he's supposed to and it's not like Steve is worried or anything... he's just... concerned for a fellow human being... that's all.

Through The Valley - IN PROGRESS

Post-Apocalyptic AU. Eddie, Dustin and Nancy have a nice little community of survivors outside of Hawkins that they take care of, surviving day to day. Everyone's a little broken, missing the rest of their Party just hoping that one day they'll find each other again.

Devotion

Dungeons and Dragons AU. Steve is the golden boy of the small town of Hawkins. Harrington in name and now a Paladin with his very own oath to hunt down the Bard, the witch Eddie Munson and bring him back to justice under High Priest Henry Creel.

[copperbadge]

I'm here! Well, I mean, I've been here for several hours at this point, but I've reached my lodgings and settled in. I hung up the next few days' worth of clothes, put my toiletries in the bathroom, took a shower, and am now running today's (which are also yesterday's) clothes through the small washer-dryer. We'll see if it actually dries them; if not at least I'm not doing this the hour before packing for Paris.

Went to Sainsbury's. You guys are not gonna believe the shit I found, but it's going to have to wait until my phone charges.

There have been a few hiccups on the road; the main one is that due to a complicated series of events, I have two USB ports I can charge all my gear from when I really could use four, and I'm not sure if I'll even have those two available once I leave London. I'm just going to have to be a little measured with my power use until I have more intel. In any case, most trains these days seem to have USB ports, so I'll just plug in whenever I can. As long as the phone stays charged I should be fine, and I can charge it like four times on my backup battery before the backup bites it.

Overall, despite Heathrow being a nightmare, it was a pleasant day -- I checked my luggage at the Tate Modern, did a loop of it, then went off to Pick & Cheese, the conveyor belt restaurant. I wanted one of everything but I know me, so I limited myself to three plates, which was enough to fill me up, although I imagine I'm going to have a snack before bed. (Hence Sainsbury's.) It was really, really good cheese and pairings, but I'm sure part of it was also that I hadn't had a real meal in roughly eighteen hours. The dinner they served on the flight was absolutely inedible; I had three or four protein/granola bars and a cup of Chobani, but that was pretty much it. It's fine -- Adderall is an appetite suppressant and normally it doesn't affect me because I'm home all day and like to eat, but actual hunger isn't an issue and as long as I make sure I get some calories in my face every few hours, blood sugar wasn't either. This is why I brought a literal dozen protein bars.

Still nice to sit somewhere and eat what amounted to a big plate of protein and sugar.

Everyone I've interacted with has been super nice, too -- people don't know how to walk on the sidewalk, which my midwestern-transplant soul found almost actively rude, but I chalked it up to tourists the same way we do back home. All the "staff" I've dealt with -- airport attendants, train officials, waitstaff, museum staff, the guy at Sainsbury's -- have been super nice. It reminds me that some cities actually want to be tourist cities, unlike Chicago, which begrudgingly admits we need tourists but really would rather they all die horribly. There's being a good customer service staffer and then there's actually being a nice person and I think most of the folks I dealt with are the latter.

Tomorrow I go to the British Museum, and I'm kind of glad that mudlarking fell through, because I feel like I definitely am going to need the morning to do a little recovering from all the walking. I'm going to ice my feet tonight and that should help.

So yes, here I am, in the new time zone, plotting a heist getting ready for tomorrow. I've successfully taken several different trains and a bus, and I know at least two of my payment cards work overseas plus my phone, so all of the major problems I anticipated are non-problems in the end.

I'm hoping tomorrow morning to go back over my posts and add anything that's needed and maybe post a few more photos from today, but we'll see. I have no idea what time I'll wake up tomorrow if I go to bed in the next half hour. Exciting to find out!

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Tapering down...

It's no secret on here that I'm a depressed old fuck who's barely surviving. I've been taking two antidepressants for the last few years, Sertraline (Zoloft) and Mirtazipine (Remeron).

I love the Mirtazipine because it helps me fall asleep at night and STAY asleep. Insomnia was one of my main symptoms...for years on end I never strung together more than an hour and a half of sleep at a time. If I take the Mirts right as I'm hittin' the bed, I fall asleep within 20 mins. Those I have no problem with.

Talked to the doc about 6 months ago about tapering down off the max Zoloft dose (150mg/day) and finally getting off them totally. Why? They never really seemed to DO anything. There may have been a slight sense of relief after awhile, but I never really FELT any kind of effect, and no real benefit, other than the possible "I'm taking meds now so I must be getting better" thing you have to tell yourself before they "kick in".

So, I tapered down to just 100mg for a couple months and then took the 50mg's until they were gone. Been completely off them for a few weeks now. Haven't really felt much different, nothing really negative, other than possibly feeling "hopeless" once in a while, which, frankly, anybody in my position WOULD feel.

My reason for writing this out? I never really considered that they might be masking some of my emotional range. After the big news of the day yesterday, after a few hours of sensing the giddiness in the ether, I just started crying. I know that's a perfectly fine reaction to have when something that's been horrible gets RESOLVED, at least on a certain level. It's a release of tension.

But there was more to it. Posted some videos, and listening to all the music, it just made me weep all that much more. And this was genuine grief...grief at the loss of what all those songs represented to me, to my own Personal Mythological Framework, as it were.

And yet, deep down I knew that it wasn't just the loss of The '60s Protest movement, or specifically 1967, The Summer of Love and what IT represents to me.

I think enough of the sertraline has flushed from my system now that my emotional body is releasing pent-up grief. I've written about my two Gemini loves, born a day apart, died nine years apart. That birthday anniversary has always been difficult to get through, but last night's flow of tears finally wound its way to that core pain.

I'm one of those people who has to know WHY.

Once the WHY is satisfied, the letting go can happen.

My last therapist was essentially a Buddhist witch, and I always struggled with what she said about the death(s), but it hit home on a deeper level last night. Her words? Essentially that we have to eventually get enough distance from it and see the "Rightness" of it.

That's a seemingly callous idea, but it's really not.

If someone dies, think of their lives and the trajectory they were on, and the trajectory the world has taken since their death. Eventually there will be a sense of "yes, that somehow HAD to happen for THIS to happen"...a sense of "rightness" in that definition is strange to feel, once you get to it. You may never GET to it...it may always be "THE GREAT WRONG" in your life.

Gemini 1 (my sweetie, my soulmate) died July 15, 2012; Gemini 2 (my bro the soldier) died four days after the January 6th attack, on January 10, 2021. I'm still surrounded by the detritus of both their lives, in my sweetie's case, I have every piece of art she made between Junior College and the day she died. In the case of my Bro, it's all the computer parts and tools and family camping stuff that hasn't seen the light of day in over 20 years.

I know that I've hung onto much of it out of desperation, out of duty and loyalty to their memory, their lives...but it is currently holding me back, and I can feel that. I have to find the stomach to go down to the garage and just start taking pictures of all the tech and camping stuff and being realistically ruthless about what I actually CAN and CAN'T use and hit CL and eBay with whatever might bring a buck.

Up until last night, the idea of that was just too overwhelming. I think last night's emotional release had an effect. Not sure just how any of it is going to happen, but I have to face all that crap down there and get rid of 90%, leaving only Char's artwork and a few tools i can use, and then finding a cheaper storage solution for what's left.

Especially since the evil landlords jacked the rent on the garage up another fucking $25 as of this coming month.

And back to that "Rightness" thing. I finally thought about that in terms of what has happened in the world since they both respectively left. I am certain my sweetie would not believe the shit that has gone on in the last 12 years. I'm pretty sure my bro's poor broken body would not have made it through the ensuing years, especially after that last bizarre injury.

It's a strange thing to see that from the distance of time. And last night's catharsis was certainly tied to it, but I'm sensing there was a component tied to the tapering off the sertraline. No more emotional masking, possibly there will be more peace of mind going forward, I can never be sure, as I pick up just about everything energetically. (Why I have to go "SHIELDS UP, SCOTTY!" while I'm out and about, and self-isolate so much of the time.)

We do have so much to grieve. It never really ends. You have to feel it ALL. You have to release it. You have to see the "rightness" of it when you look at the world in its entirety. The sertraline's masking of the intense sadness finally being gone facilitated the bulk of it, I'm pretty sure.

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 14

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 696

Masterlist

My Joe is kind of like Netflix!Joe and also like Book!Joe, who kills people and then goes "So anyway..."

I thought you'd notice how distracted I am, considering the amount of time we've been spending together.

But no, you are fighting with your grandparents and your mother isn't answering your calls and you don't want to talk about it so I am giving you your space. It's that easy.

You are thankful. You promise you'll make it up to me later.

You don't have to make anything up to me, (Y/n). You are giving me the time I need to rid the world of a pest.

It's surprisingly easy to get Jasper alone. His polygamous relationship is unfulfilling (shocking), so he spends most of his free time running around New York with his ‘friends’, who probably wouldn't notice if I walked up and stabbed him right in front of them. His evenings consist of getting drunk at shady bars and buying drugs from shady people. It only costs me three days to figure out his entire pattern.

How this man manages to be so put-together at work every day is one of life's great mysteries.

On day four, I spend the early afternoon at a thrift shop. I buy a tracksuit that looks sufficiently used and a baseball cap that looks sufficiently new. At the end of the work day, I wait around outside your office (making sure you don't see me when you leave) for Jasper to come out.

And then I follow him.

Jasper doesn't drive. He's the kind of asshole who takes the train because he thinks it makes him look down to earth. Good thing for me, because it makes it so much easier to stay on his tail.

First, he goes home, but he only stays there for an hour. Just long enough to appease his wife. Then, he leaves again.

Tonight's shady bar is actually near your apartment, but I don't think Jasper knows that. All he knows is this is the wrong kind of neighborhood, which means it's the right kind of neighborhood for his purposes.

I really need to get you to keep your windows closed.

Jasper meets three guys outside and they all shout-greet each other and slap each other's shoulders the way these types often do, and then they go inside.

You know how you can tell that I love you, (Y/n)? I spend nearly six hours waiting inside the disgusting alley, leaning against the wall with one leg bent, foot against the brick, like drug dealers in movies do. I've got my cap pulled low over my eyes and I pretend I'm texting frantically. When the wrong people approach me, I glare at them until they walk away.

It's after midnight when Jasper stumbles outside. He is alone. He is either so drunk or so uninterested that he doesn't realize he knows me. He wants cocaine and I tell him I have some.

There's a woman smoking at the mouth of the alley, but her back is to us and it is so easy to lead Jasper around the corner to where there's a dead-end and knock him out. There are no cameras here, no doors. There is a dumpster, but nobody's going to come out and throw anything away until two am, when the bar closes.

Jasper should be grateful. He dies without anyone noticing - including himself. It's easy. Painless.

When they find his body, it will be a drug deal gone wrong and everyone will pretend they never thought something like that would happen to him even though they really did think it would. They were waiting for it. People like Jasper always end up like this in the end.

Nobody will ever think to connect either of us to his death. Why would they? You would never come to a place like this and me? I barely know the guy.

As I leave, I check my phone for texts from you. There are none because you don't know what I just did for you, so you don't know to thank me. But when you find out about Jasper's death, you will pretend to be sad and secretly thank whoever is responsible, which means you will be thanking me anyway.

[the-hexfiles]

Grace (Crosshair x AFAB!)

Chapter One: Dive Bar

Rating: Explicit

Content: Fluff, smut, little angst. First-Person Narrative, with nameless narrator (can be read as x reader) Post-empire Crosshair. Mentions of self-harm by the narrator because I H/C Cross couldn’t fall in love post-empire, unless it was with someone who understood trauma and healing.

Wordcount: 4.7k

A/N: This is my first fan-fic and my first attempt at smut.

Soundtrack: Sleepover by Hayley Kiyoko

Next...

Smack.

           “Fuck, Crosshair! You don't have to go that hard!” I said, trying to shake the stinging sensation off the back of my hand. The boys in the booth on the opposite side of the bar snickered to themselves when Wrecker whispered “That’s what she said.” Crosshair rolled the toothpick to the other side of his smirk, as I tucked the pile of cards into the bottom of my hand. Omega peeked her head over the bar next to Crosshair, with a bright little smile on her face.

           “Cross, you pay her,” I said, taking another swig of my cocktail, not looking at either clone in front of me.

           “I'm not the one cursing in front of kids.”

I flashed him a dirty look before I dipped into my tip jar and tossed her five credits.

           “Why is there a child in my bar anyways, Bouncer?” I joked as Crosshair and I tossed cards on the bar simultaneously.

           “Do you want me to kick her out?” Crosshair replied, slapping the pile of cards as fast as he tossed the jack down.

           “Damn you and your fast hands.”

           “They’ll go as fast or slow as you like,” he whispered with a small smirk. I rolled my eyes with a smile.

                                                       ***

           I had never met any of The Batch until Crosshair walked in alone late one night. I saw the first four of them around the square and docks when Phee first brought them to Pabu, then they were gone for a while. When they came back, they looked like they’d trekked through hell, with Crosshair in tow. He showed up within his first few days on the island, coming in alone late one night, sipping on Corellian whiskey until I made the last call. This went on for a week before I got tired of him staring into his glass in silence when it was dead. I started handing him my data pad to play music.

           Over a few weeks, he moved from the table in the furthest corner of the room, to sitting at the end of the bar, leaning across to grab the card deck or data pad when he was bored and I was busy with customers. The first time he leaned over the bar to grab the data pad himself he spied the blaster sitting behind my purse.

           “What are you afraid of?”

           “I live, work, and walk home, alone,” I said, lifting boxes and rotating bottles in the cooler.

           He gave a low hum, and punched in one of the bar playlists I premade. That night he stayed until I finished closing to walk me home. He learned my schedule and walked me home every morning, even on days he hadn't been sitting at the bar. I had started tossing his tips back at him and made a playlist of his favorite songs. He waited patiently, listening to me hum along to the music as I cleaned, stocked, and took inventory. Our general conversations were short, but consistent, and enough was always said. I learned about him and his brothers' time with the GAR, knew about a stint with the Empire before he defected, but that was all. No real details, just his scars on the side of his head and neck, and an agonized look in his eyes as he stared down at his drink, or stared off at the ocean when he walked me home.

           A few more weeks went by: the playful flirting started, his brothers and sister started coming along for a couple hours here and there to play darts or cards. Crosshair always sat with them when they came along, with a more tense and quiet demeanor. A particularly busy night a lightweight local felt bold enough to grab my ass as I leaned over the table to collect the boys' glasses. Before I could whip around to push him off, Crosshair had him by the shirt collar and was walking him out the front door. The bar owner, Joy, who was helping me behind the bar, laughed “Cross if you're gonna be here all the time and so damn protective anyways, I could use a bouncer. Not much pay, but the work is steady.”

           So, after working together for a couple months, slapjack became our game of choice on slow nights. I tried taking him on once at darts; absolutely never again. Billiards? Even worse. Sabacc was fun until he started using the mirror behind the bar to cheat. Slapjack and War I at least stood a chance.

                                                       ***

           “Last call boys, let's let them go home,” Joy said as she came out of her office. “I'll close up, enjoy your day tomorrow.” She said, looking at me. Crosshair took the cards from my hand “What’s tomorrow?”

           “Just took the day off,” I said, dancing around his question as I grabbed his siblings' glasses off the bar. Lost in thought and moving on autopilot, I didn't realize he had come behind the bar and was trying to walk behind me as I bent down to grab sanitizer tablets from under the sink. My ass knocked directly into his crotch, nearly toppling him over, so he grabbed my hips to steady himself. Both of us froze briefly until I started laughing and winked over my shoulder at him, “Hey there handsome,”

           “We're in public, dear, control yourself,” he said, smiling and squeezing out from between my ass and the back counter to get to my things.

           “Alright! Cross is finally getting some action!” Wrecker's laugh filled the empty bar.

           “Finally?” I looked to Wrecker then to Crosshair who was facing away from everyone, shoulders tensed.

           “Nice, Wrecker,” Hunter said, nudging Omega towards the door.

           “This is a conversation we should not be here for,” Tech said and nodded to Joy as he followed the group out.

           Outside of the bar, I looked over at him as we walked. The moonlight highlighted his sharp profile. “So, what have you been telling them about us?” I bumped him with my elbow playfully.

He looked down at me briefly before looking back at the lit walkway, “There's nothing to tell,” he said seemingly annoyed, “You never answered my question from earlier.”

           “I didn't know I had to.”

           “You don't.”

I let silence fill the space between us for a moment.

           “My birthday.”

           “So it's special,” he said looking down at me. He was tall, I barely came up to his shoulder.

           “I guess. More like Joy just insisted I take a day to enjoy myself instead of dealing with Saturday night locals.”

            “What's the plan for tomorrow then?”

            “Nothing. Maybe laundry while I listen to a movie.”

That quiet hum again passed his lips, then nothing until he walked me to the door and said goodnight.

            Morning invaded my bedroom too soon. Light creeped across the floor and onto my pillow waking me before I was ready to face the world. When I rolled over and adjusted my pillow, I was almost comfortable enough to fall back to sleep when there was a timid knock at my front door. Annoyed and half asleep, I clipped up my hair, put on a cami and boxers I found on the floor and walked into the living room. I opened the door to a blinding sunrise and a lightly blushing Crosshair holding two to-go cups of caf.

           “Is that for me?” I said pointing to one of the cups, “Why are you blushing? Why are you here?” I said, stepping aside to let him in. As he stepped into the living room I was rudely awakened by the realization I hadn't cleaned all week. My house was small enough, you could see everything from the front door. Living room area to the left had a chair, caf table, and loveseat. A full laundry basket covered half the loveseat, 2 empty mugs and half a glass of water sat on the table. The chair had a rumpled blanket tossed across the arm. To the right was an open kitchen with a little island and a 2 person dining table. Ration bars and instant soup sat in grocery bags on the kitchen counter, while the dining table was covered in notes, and my dumped-out-purse-contents. My bedroom door was wide open to reveal the dirty laundry thrown across the floor, and a stack of books, 2 water bottles, 2 mugs, and my blaster on the nightstand. The refresher had cosmetics littered across the counter and last night's outfit and a damp towel on the floor.

           “Happy birthday. I was going to take you to breakfast but I see you've opted to skip wearing clothes today?” He said, handing me a cup and glancing down at my mostly bare legs and obviously braless chest under the cami. Unlike his brothers, he wore dark civilian clothes most days; but this day he looked particularly nice. He was wearing a black button up with dark pants and his GAR boots. The top two buttons were undone on his shirt, letting a few lines of a tattoo on his chest peek out.

           “I just woke up. Um, pants are probably in the basket. Sorry about the mess,” I said, taking a sip of caf and setting it down before making a panicked search in the laundry basket.

            “What happened?”

            “I don't like sleeping with clothes on, and I wasn't expecting company. If you give me a few minutes I can get ready to go–"

             “No. Your scars.”

I looked down at my thighs. Sure enough, just below the hem of the boxers, visible through dark tattoos, were the deliberate, straight marks across the tops of my thighs. All of my scars and stretch marks usually blended pretty well into my skin or were covered by tattoos, but they were still there, still visible to staring eyes. I pulled on a pair of sweats before I tried to busy myself with picking up the stuff off the caf table: “Not everyone heals from trauma gracefully,” I gestured to the chaos around my small house, “I still struggle, but at least my house I can clean.” Hands full, I turned towards the kitchen and tried to hurry by him, “Thanks for the caf. You remembered how I–”

        He stepped in front of me and reached to my hands, briefly tracing my knuckles with his long fingers before grabbing the dishes from me: “Need some help? Or company?”

I froze at the sudden and gentle contact, but held his eyes as I felt a warmth creep into my cheeks.

        “You, Crosshair, skilled marksman for the GAR and Imperial convict, are going to help me fold my panties?”

        “How else am I supposed to get a look?” He said with a smirk and light blush, turning into the kitchen. “You could always ask nicely,” I smiled and rushed to the dining table to condense the clutter. “Wait, what about breakfast?” 

“We’ll make it lunch,” He said as he kicked off his boots by the front door.

       I cut up some fruit and brought it to the living room. He’d sat on the free section of the loveseat, briefly glancing over a novel I had on the side table. I put the laundry basket on the floor between us and sat on the other end of the sofa. He put the book down and grabbed a piece of red fabric sticking out of the basket, pulling out a little red dress. I started a movie and watched him hold up the dress and stare at it confused.

           “You don't fold those, if you were wondering.”

           “It's short…”

           “A friend bought it for me, but it's tight and my scars show. Not sure what occasion I’ll have for it, but it's cute. I'll let it sit in my closet for a while.”

He draped the dress on the arm of the loveseat and picked through the basket until he found something he knew how to fold.

        The movie carried on while I put the clean clothes away and picked up the dirty clothes off the bedroom and refresher floor. When I was done, Crosshair was settled into the loveseat, feet up on the table and one arm draped across the back. He seemed relaxed until I sat down and saw he was grinding down on his toothpick.

           “I'm still not used to being all domestic.” He answered before I could ask, feeling my stare on his profile.

I curled up into myself on the loveseat, but even being on the opposite side, his long arm could reach completely across and he brushed the back of my neck with his thumb.

           “You didn't have to–” I said sheepishly.

           “Relax. You're not the problem. I offered to help. I'm still…”

           “Trying to make this place a home?”

           He stopped clenching his jaw and looked over at me for a moment before looking back at the movie. He continued the gentle touch on the back of my neck, tickling little the curls that slipped from my bun. I let the movie play for a few moments, to see if he had more to say. But he just continued rubbing the back of my neck with his thumb for a while longer before I spoke:

           “I know that no matter how welcoming a place or person can be, after being fucked with for so damn long its hard to feel safe. But I want you to feel safe here, because you've made me feel safe for the first time in so long,” I looked over at him. His eyes were flicking back and forth across the holo, trying to find something to say. Catching sight of the near tears in his eyes I added: “Even when you startle me by dropping by at the ass crack of dawn without warning.”

He gave my curls a gentle tug with a snicker and I laughed.

            “I don't have your comm frequency” He said with a smirk.

           I playfully made a shocked face, “Don't have my frequency, but now you've folded my intimates.”

           “And rubbed my crotch into your ass.” He said bluntly, looking back over at me.

           “Look at you, getting all this action,” I said as I pinched his side playfully, catching a good spot on his waist that made him flinch.

           “Wrecker doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut about other people's business.” He whipped his head back to the movie.

           “Never known the company of a fairer kind?” I said playfully, still looking at him. He let a few moments pass, blush creeping into ears and cheeks, clamping down on his toothpick.

           “Is that a problem?” He finally said, still avoiding my face.

           “No. And not shocking either. Can't imagine you really had that much time to enjoy R&R during the odd times you got it.” I looked back at the movie.

           “Never had any interest before now anyways,” He said.

           I felt him shift on the loveseat, felt his hand creep up into my hair and gently take out the clip. I looked over right as he took the toothpick out of his mouth with his free hand and set it on the lid of his empty caf cup. His eyes met mine as I shifted my body to face him and reached over towards his waist again, “Before now, huh?” I said with a smile pulling on his shirt. I heard the clip clatter to the floor.

           He leaned into my reach, crawling fully up on the loveseat to lay his body between my legs, one hand still in my hair as he held himself up with the other one. I gripped onto his shirt with both hands, until he stopped leaning towards me, hovering close, flicking his eyes back and forth to study my face. My left hand cupped his face and my thumb caressed his cheekbone, tracing the bottom line of his tattoo. His body weight pressed into my hips, bringing my attention to my dampening set of boxers and a warmth radiating off both of us.

           “Sit up, or kiss me dammit.” I said, breaking the staring contest we seemed to have started. He let out a low huff and pressed his smile to mine. I giggled against his lips.

           “What's so funny?” He said pulling back enough to answer and pinch my side.

           “This has become a very nice birthday.”

He pressed his lips back to mine, more passionately, giving a gentle tug on my hair, and creeping his other hand under my cami to grip my waist. His hands were warm against my stomach but my hands made him shiver as I slid my hand under his shirt and over his abs. I moved to pull away but he leaned in further, holding tight. I slipped my hands back out and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Once undone, my hands traced up and down his upper body, feeling out every muscle line and scar, while his hand alternated between squeezing my waist and sliding up and down my thigh.

        He pulled away to catch his breath and tucked his face into the curve of my neck. After a moment he slid his fingers into the waistband of my sweats, breathing becoming heavy and slow, kissing behind my ear. I grabbed his arm to make him look at me. He freed his hand from behind my head to hold himself up.

        “You don't have to take this further than you want, you know. I’m perfectly fine with waiting as long as you want.”

He smirked slightly, then in almost one fluid motion lifted me up into his arms as he pushed himself up off the loveseat. He carried me into my bedroom and threw me onto the unmade bed and climbed back over top of me, an obvious tightness in the front of his pants pressing into my soaking boxers. He brought his lips back to my neck, corners of his lips tugging into a gentle smile. A soft sigh escaped me as he kissed down my neck towards my collar bone, making him grind into my hips playfully. 

           I tugged at his unbuttoned shirt to try to pull it off. Without moving his lips from my skin he pulled it off and tossed it aside, then continued teasing at my waistband. I pushed against him to sit up, pushing him off long enough to pull my shirt off and toss it onto the floor. He looked down at my bare chest, flushed. His hands ghosted across my stomach and waist as he brought his hands to my breasts. I started working at his pants while his eyes and hands explored my bare skin. He traced the tattoo along my right rib cage before bringing his hand back to cup my breasts.

           When I managed to undo his belt and buttons, he began tugging down my sweats. I let him slide off my pants and boxers but froze as he eyed up my entirely naked body, feeling myself dripping on the bed with anticipation. Feeling suddenly self conscious remembering the scars and stretchmarks that patterned my thighs and hips I reached for his pants again, this time he relented to back off the bed long enough to pull them all the way off, his hard cock freed of any restraint and his eyes never stopping their roam about my body.

        He climbed back over top of me, starting his kisses again from behind my ear, down my neck, across my collar bone, trailing all the way down to my thighs. My legs draped across his shoulders, hands squeezing my thighs, he flicked his gaze between my eyes and my dripping folds.

           “May I?”

           “You know what to do?” I said teasing.

He nipped at my thigh, leaving a mark. “I’m a virgin, not a nun,” he started kissing my inner thighs, trailing up to my hips.

           “A visual learner then–” I ended in a gasp, as he licked from my entrance to my clit, stopping and teasing my clit with his tongue with just a slight amount of pressure.

           “I’ll shut up now,” I sighed.

           He chuckled against me, then looked up, “Don't do that,” he licked me again, “how will I know what you like if you're quiet?”

           He devoured me, exploring every possible sigh and moan I could make and focusing his tongue on the movements that made me squirm the most. He played with my clit intensely while his eyes were trained on my face, listening to my panted instructions. As I got closer and closer to my peak, I instinctively grasped onto his hands, still curled around my thighs, holding onto each other like one of us might get washed away.

           “Fuck,” I moaned as my back arched off the bed slightly. I felt the vibrations of his moan against my clit, and he picked up his pace just enough to push me over into my orgasm, thighs squeezing his shoulders, letting go of one of his hands to grab onto the headboard.

           He brought me through my orgasm, still teasing my clit until it bordered overstimulation. I released the headboard to caress his cheek between my legs. He lifted his head away from my soaked pussy, smiling with my arousal all over his chin. With both hands I went to wipe his face but he just kissed my palms before he got up and dipped into the refresher. When he came back, he hovered in the threshold, wiping his smug face with a washcloth with one hand, stroking himself with the other, admiring the sprawled out and puddled mess I was on the bed.

           “You look proud,” I said chuckling. He tossed the washcloth in the hamper and crawled back into bed between my legs, he hovered above my lips for a beat before kissing me. I could taste myself on his tongue before he trailed his kisses across my jaw and back down to my neck, his erection pressing into my pubic. “What would you like from me?” I whispered as I kissed his ear teasingly. He gave a short scoff before shifting his hips so his length moved to grind between my wet folds. One hand slid up my thigh as I bent my legs to wrap them around his waist, while his other hand cupped my face as he continued his kisses on my neck and collar bone. He shifted his hips as I reached for his length to line it up, both of us moaning deeply as he pushed himself inside me. I held onto his biceps, as he paused for a moment, head buried in the curve of my neck. “Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned into my skin, before slowly rutting into me.

           It wasn’t long before he was fucking me hard and groaning unabashedly. The hand that was cupping my face, gripped onto the sheets beside my head, while he held himself deep inside me holding onto my hip. My knuckles were white, switching between holding onto his arms and digging into his waist, leaving small red scratches down his sides. His orgasm came hard and fast, slamming his hips into me, resting his forehead on mine as he came.

           He lifted his flushed face away from mine, not looking at me as he started to pull out and back off the bed. “Wait, Cross,” I said trying to hang onto his arm but he gently pulled away and slipped into the refresher.

           I waited a few minutes before I got up and knocked on the door. When there was no response, I tested the door and found it unlocked. He was facing away from me, staring at the shower but made no move to turn it on. “What’s wrong?” I asked, closing the refresher door behind me. He glanced over his shoulder at me, then back at the shower. I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my head into his back, his body oddly tense. “Can we shower together, or do you want space?” I let silence fill the room for a moment. After a pause, he took one of my hands and kissed it, “Stay,” was his only response.

           He avoided looking at face until we were curled up on the dry side of the bed. I rested my head on his shoulder, my leg draped across his hips, tracing the outline of the skull and 99 tattoos on his chest. I listened to his heartbeat, smelling my soap on his skin, feeling his right arm wrapped around me, thumb rubbing circles around my own tattoo. I was starting to doze off when he spoke:

           “You didn’t…” He kept staring up at the ceiling, “...finish, a second time.”

           “And?”

           He looked at me as I sat up on my elbow to look down at him. “If that’s what you’re upset over, don’t be. Once is plenty to start. Come on, take me to lunch.” I pinched his side, making him flinch and briefly frown at me. “We’ll worry about round two later,” I said, starting to roll over him to get off the bed, but he held me over him, my legs straddling his naked waist.

           “Round two?” he asked. Maker, he was adorable when he was confused.

           “Only if you want to,” I kissed his forehead and continued off the bed to get dressed.

           “Only if you wear that red dress,” he smiled. He laid on the bed, with his hands behind his head and propped up on my pillows, as he watched me get ready before he got up to pick his own clothes up off the floor.

                                                       ***

           “How was it?” Hunter asked when he came up to buy another round. 

           "How was what?” I said smiling to myself and yawning as I grabbed him another cider.

           “Yesterday,” he said, giving a suggestive smile and glancing over at Crosshair – who never did go back to the Marauder that night, opting to just wash his clothes before work.

           Crosshair sat at the opposite end of the bar, watching a particularly rowdy group of women enjoying their phattro a little too much.

           “It was quite lovely. He makes for good company.”

           “Thanks for being good to him. And let us know if he fucks up, we'll straighten him out.”

           “Oh I don’t think he’ll be a problem,” I said as I popped the top off the cider and handed it to him with a smile. “She is, though,” I said nodding to Omega standing next to Hunter with her hand out.

           “Don’t I get a favorite brother pass or something?”

           “You do, but you used it earlier today.”

           “This is all your fault,” he said playfully scowling at me.

           Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the women walk up to Crosshair and put her hand on his shoulder, whispering something in his ear. I looked at Hunter who was clearly eavesdropping, smiling. When I looked over, Crosshair was pointing at me. She pouted then waved me over, asking for another phattro. When she walked back over to her group, I leaned against the bar beside Crosshair, grabbing my cards from my bag, “What did she want?”

           “Jealous?” he said smirking, taking the cards from my hand and shuffling them.

           “You pointed at me, I have a right to know what excuse you used me for,” I said yawning again.

           “Not an excuse. She asked if I had someone,” he said flatly, dealing cards between the two of us. “I kept you up too late last night,” he said as I yawned for a third time and finished my caff, soaking the mug in the sink.

           “Please do it again,” I said with a sleepy smile, picking up my cards. “But not tonight. Let’s just cuddle tonight.”

           “Who said I was spending another night?” He said with a smirk, playing with the edge of the top card.

           “Me. Pick up clean clothes from the Marauder before we go back to my place.”

           “I need to wear clothes?”

           I gave him a playful wink and we started tossing cards onto the bartop.

************************************************************************

Next...

[astrid-sama]

Labyrinth of white roses (Effie trinket x fem oc)

Chapter 1)

The harvest

I wake up with the warmth of the sun's rays caressing my face, it's a rare event, usually if I want to sneak away without anyone seeing me I'm forced to get up when there's still the moon in the sky, at first light dawn in district twelve everyone is already at work; today, however, everyone is exempt from work and people sleep late trying not to think that tonight at least two families will mourn the loss of their children.

Today the annual harvest is held, on this day a boy and a girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen will be chosen from each district to participate in the Hunger Games, a deadly game from which only one tribute will emerge alive. At school we kids are taught that the Hunger Games are there to ensure that the Dark Days are not repeated, in reality they are just another way for the Capitol City to assert their dominion over us.

I get out of bed, put on my hunting clothes, kiss my brother on the forehead being careful not to wake him and leave the house as quietly as possible. I arrive on the main road and after making sure that there is no one around I head towards the fence; during the journey I feel my stomach growling, it is normal to be hungry here in district twelve and that is why every day I leave the fence to go hunting, putting my life at risk, between dying of hunger together with my brother and being hanged for betrayal by the peacekeepers I choose the second, it is the least painful option. At the fence I find my friends Gale and Katniss waiting for me, we have been hunting together for more than four years now; the fence should be electrified but here in the twelve there is almost never electricity, one at a time we crawl under the fence taking advantage of a point where it is damaged. According to the Capitol, the fences surrounding the districts are there to prevent wild animals from attacking us, but I think they're there to keep us locked up.

We enter the woods, retrieve our bows and hide among the vegetation waiting for prey to hunt. After almost an hour we have captured three rabbits and a squirrel, we go to hide our bows in an old hollow trunk and start looking for fruit and medicinal herbs; when we have finished the sun is higher in the sky and it is probably just before midday. Before leaving the woods, Gale, Katniss and I take a break sitting on a rocky ledge.

-Girls look what I have here- Gale takes a loaf of bread out of his bag, it seems warm and fragrant, few people can afford such bread.

-But this is real bread! Gale where did you find him?- Katniss said as she grabs the loaf of bread.

-The baker gave it to me in exchange for a squirrel-

-Just a squirrel?!-

I can't help but wonder, the baker is a good person but usually a squirrel isn't enough for a loaf like that.

-Today is harvest day, we are all better-

Gale divides the loaf between the three of us, we eat in silence until Katniss asks a question.

-How many nominations do you have?-

-Thirtyfive-

-Twentyone-

Under normal circumstances a seventeen year old like me should only have five nominations, I have so many because I was forced to trade them for food; my father became ill when I was twelve and died when I was fourteen, but my mother died soon after my brother was born so I found myself having to support both myself and my brother and was forced to apply several times in exchange for food, Gale and Katniss are in the same situation as me.

A few minutes later we set off to return to the enclosure; once we return to the district we go to the black market to barter: we exchange strawberries with the mayor in exchange for a bag of legumes, we exchange the squirrel for matches. After leaving the black market, Katniss, Gale, and I wish each other good luck and part ways.

When I arrive home I find my brother waiting for me, he is dressed in a pair of green jeans and a white shirt, his long black hair is tied in a braid and his green eyes shine with happiness when he sees me.

-Welcome back big sister, how do I look?-

-Elia you are handsome, I bet you will make everyone fall in love with you-

Elia blushes and looks away.

-Big sister it's almost time for the harvest, you should go and change-

I nod, I go to the bathroom and quickly wash both my body and my hair, after drying my hair with a towel I put on my best dress, a light green dress with small white flowers and finally I put on some old brown boots. Elia insists on tying my black hair in a braid like his, when he's finished we go to the square to take part in the grape harvest.

As soon as we arrived we immediately separated, I joined the seventeen year old girls while my brother joined the fourteen year old boys. After all boys and girls eligible to participate have been registered, the harvest ceremony begins; first of all (like every year) the mayor goes on stage and begins to read a long speech in which he explains how the Hunger Games are our just punishment for having rebelled against the Capitol seventy-three years ago; after what seems like hours the mayor finally concludes his speech and gives way on the stage to the Capitol emissary who has the task of escorting the tributes of district twelve to Capitol City Effie Trinket.

-Welcome to the seventy-third edition of the Hunger Games, may luck always be in your favor-

Effie walks very enthusiastically towards the glass bowl containing the pieces of paper with the girls' names written on them.

-As always ladies first-

Effie slowly dips her hand into the glass bowl, pulls out a piece of paper, and returns to the center of the stage; in the seconds preceding the reading of the name of the tribute there is absolute silence.

-The female tribute from district twelve is.... Selene Davidson-

All the girls turn to look at me, some look at me with pity, others with relief. My hands are shaking, my body seems to have turned to marble and even though I know I should go on stage I can't move.

-Darling come here-

Effie Trinket smiles at me and calls me to the stage. I force myself to move and slowly advance towards the stage; I'm trying to hold back the tears, I can't seem weak. Capitol City is watching me.

-And now the male tribute-

I watch Effie take the piece of paper with the name of the male tribute and hope that the name is neither Elia nor Gale.

-The male tribute from District Twelve is... Alexander Morgan-

Alexander is a fifteen year old boy with curly red hair and a weak physique, you can clearly see how terrified he is; once he gets on stage he starts sobbing.

-Now a big round of applause for our tributes-

Nobody claps their hands, silence is the only act of protest allowed. After the harvest we are taken into the courthouse and given some time to say goodbye to our friends and family. I'm sitting on a velvet sofa when the door opens and Elia comes in, hugs me and starts sobbing with his head resting on my shoulder. For a while we remain hugged without saying anything, then Elia dries his tears and begins to speak.

-Win big sister and come back to me, I know you can do it-

-Elia I-

-No Selene don't say you can't win, you are an expert hunter you know how to use a bow and knives perfectly and you also know both edible and medicinal plants-

-You're right, I promise I will do everything to come back-

I try to sound confident but in reality I don't think I have much chance of returning home, after all what can a weak little girl from district twelve with a bow (if there is a bow) do against a volunteer from district one who weighs twice as much as she. A short time later, peacekeepers arrive and take Elia away and let Gale and Katniss in in his place. We hug each other, resigned to the idea that this will be our last meeting.

-Guys remember the promise we made to each other, don't let Elia die of hunger! Take him with you into the woods, teach him to hunt, please don't abandon him-

Some time ago the three of us had made a pact, if ever one of us was chosen as a tribute the others would be taken care of by his family.

-Don't worry, we'll take care of Elia, you think about winning-

-Certain-

A short time later the peacekeepers took Katniss and Gale away, I was escorted out of the courthouse and taken to the train that would take me to the Capitol City.

This is the first chapter of my fanfiction "Labyrinth of white roses", I will publish all the chapters of the fanfiction on Ao3 with the name "Labyrinth of white roses".

These are my fanfiction characters created with artificial intelligence:

Selene

Elia

Alexander

[thewritingofspencerrose]

M.Hughes Masterlist

Home Sweet Home

"Oh my God," I can't help but groan, sinking into the freshly washed comforter, body absolutely aching.

Trevor's body falls beside mine, and I can't help but laugh when Jamie falls back on his other side, both releasing groans of their own.

Twenty-four hours of unpacking boxes, mixing my items around with theirs and we are finally done. I am never doing this again.

"Well, I am sufficiently exhausted, so thanks for taking up my entire day, I thoroughly enjoyed it," Jimmy is suddenly saying, pushing himself up once more and meeting Trevor's hand in a fist bump, doing the same with my own.

"Thank you for helping us, and for letting me move in," I can't help but thank for what is probably the millionth time.

"Mags," His voice is soft, eyes kind, "You don't have to keep thanking me, I'm glad you're here. Maybe we can even team up to talk Z into a dog," He's smiling that comforting Jamie smile, letting me know just how sincere he is, and I can't help but be grateful this is who Trev's had by his side all the way out here.

"We'll work on it," Is my assured response, Trevor groaning once more at the idea he's just going to have to accept. "Night Jamie."

"Night you two, try not to be too loud," And he's out the door before I can even respond, the only one being Trevor's laughter as my cheeks tint a bright red.

"I hate him."

"No you don't," Trevor's whispering as he pulls me into his side, nearly on top of him.

"Okay, so I don't, but now I'm going to think about this every time we want to have sex," my hand slides down his chest, my head on his shoulder. "I don't think we'll ever be able to do it again after this."

And he's sat straight, eyes nearly as wild as his post-move hair, rolling us over so that he's practically squashing me. "You have to be kidding."

He knows I'm kidding, but the look on his face is absolutely priceless.

"I'll take it under considerati-" My sentence gets cut off by my Trevor-induced laughter, his fingers digging into my hips and lips kissing all over my face. "Trev- Trev stop!"

"No! If you're going to withhold your beautiful body from me then I need to at least hear your laugh!" His hands aren't stopping for a second, his own laughter chopping up his words and making them nearly as jumbled as my own.

"T!"

"Give me a kiss and I'll stop!"

"Trev!"

"Give me a kiss and I'll stop tickling you!" Is his return once more, and I can't help but give him what he's asking for, even just a peck, that has his hands stopping in their spots on my hips, fingers that were once on the attack now simply rubbing soothing circles on my sides.

He cradles my body, kissing back once more, his body slowly falling next to my own, pulling us tight.

It's silent, for only a moment, as his body holds mine, bones aching.

Until the softest breath of a sentence leaves his sweet lips.

"Thank you for moving in with me."

And my heart joins the rest of my body in aching.

"Trev, you don't have to thank me," I can't help but lean up, looking into his eyes. "I should be thanking you."

He just smiles, kissing the part of my head he can reach from our bundle of arms and legs. "You brought home back to me full time, why would you be thanking me?"

"You're my home too, Trevor, you have to know that."

I can see in his eyes as he looks down at me, eyes soft and body warm that I know he loves me just as much as I love him.

"Then welcome home, Baby," He's smirking, holding me that much closer to his body.

I can't help but sigh in content with how I feel in this moment.

"Home sweet home."

[firelord-frowny]

lame feels

not meeeeeeeeeee watching chloeXhalle videos and almost crying with jealousyyyy bc its hard for me not to see them as an example of the success that can be achieved by talented people when they have a network of people who actually want to support them in reaching their goals lmaoooo

they, particularly, stir up envy/self pity in me because i feel like i even resemble them physically??? i mean not in a way where someone might say i'm a ~look alike,~ but the general features are of a similar variety??? wide, slanted eyes on an alien-shaped face. same skin tone. well-defined lips, full cheeks, tiny chin.

and they didn't just materialize into fame and recognition by the sheer magnitude of their talent.

everybody who ever gets anywhere doing anything, at some point along the way, had PEOPLE! People who helped. People who freely gave their time and energy. People who took chances. People who gave something valuable that they had to offer, knowing and accepting that they may never get anything in particular in exchange.

i don't care what anyone says - personal hard work and dedication are obviously prerequisites for any kind of journey from nobodiness to success. But if absolutely 0 people that they ever encounter go out of their way to open a door, you aint achieving shit. Even in a case where somebody gets overlooked and turned away again and again and again and again, your eventual success is still only realized when someone FINALLY decides that you're deserving of the resources they have.

And I look at all these successful people that I've admired over the years, and I learn about their pasts, and about how so-and-so took a chance on them, or their whole family moved to a new state or even a new country so they could more easily access the things that will help them achieve their goals, or their moms flew them all around the country for auditions, or arranged for them to be homeschooled so they could focus on honing their crafts and have more time to pursue opportunities, blah blah...

someone important in your life, before you had the wisdom or the power or the funds to do things on your own, made the decision that your aspirations were more important than their convenience. Someone had to think that you were worth investing in. Someone had to believe that by helping you succeed, they succeed, too.

my parents sent me to one single orchestral festival when I was 15 and it cost them $6,000 and they have not let me live it down ever since. they drove me once a week to a violin lesson 35 minutes away and STILL complain about how much gas it took to get there and back. Each and every time they attended any of my performances, they didn't gush over how well I did or how proud they were during our drive home. No - they tallied up how much time they "lost" out of their day because of me. "It took us an hour to get ready, then another hour to drive out here. So that's already two hours. Then the performance started late, so that's an extra twenty minutes. The concert itself was an hour and a half, so now that's about four hours. Then it took you 10 whole minutes to come out from backstage and get ready to get in the car. And now there's traffic on the way home. So that's over five hours we just spent on you today. And you only played for six and a half minutes."

?????????????????? sorry???????????? i'm a Serious Musician studying music seriously. i have auditions. i have performances. I just DO. Why the whole helling fuck are you tallying up the time you've ~had~ to spend on the pursuit of my goals like it's something I DID to you?? Like you'd rather be doing anything else on earth besides nurturing the growth of the child you had on purpose? Like your world would be so much more peaceful if I was a pet rock instead of a gifted human being.

and god, for my whole entire life - truly, my ENTIRE life until this day - they love, love, LOVE to tell me how ~ungrateful~ they think I am.

I'M SORRY???? what the hell else do you want me to do or say??? What was I supposed to do on the way home from an audition or a performance other than smile and hug you and say thank you? I asked for literally nothing. I wasn't a greedy kid. I didn't demand new shoes or beg for video games. I didn't ask to go to parties. I didn't ask for money. I wasn't bratty. And when I was told 'no' regarding the few sorts of things I DID ask for, I didn't throw a fit over it. I didn't even ask to be taken to all these auditions and performances! I didn't throw tantrums when I didn't get my way. I didn't beg for things they couldn't afford. I didn't accuse them of being shitty parents if they didn't provide every itty bitty thing I wanted. I was such a normal kid. With a normal amount of needs that required a normal amount of my parents time and money. i still don't know what the hell kind of ~gratitude~ they're looking for. I ask them and they can't even tell me. the most they'll ever say is "well! you need to help out more!"

"ok, with what?"

"just help out more!"

"WITH? WHAT?"

"You need to contribute!"

CONTRIBUTE TO WHAT??? HELP WITH WHAT??? GIVE ME A FUCKING LIST! DRAW UP AN ITINERARY! A CONTRACT! A DEMAND LETTER! TELL ME A TASK! DESCRIBE A SPECIFIC PHYSICAL ACTION THAT WOULD DEMONSTRATE TO YOU THAT I APPRECIATE THE THINGS YOU PROVIDE!!! TELL ME WHAT YOUR CURRENCY IS!!!!

"you're not a giver! you're just a taker!"

ok well you know what i have to give???

The Fuck Up.

i give the fuck up! i give up! i give up! i give up trying to convince you that the success and eventual independence of your kid is its own reward. i give up trying to figure out what it is that i'm not doing that, if i did it, would inspire you to support me without reminding me of all the time and money you've lost just so I could have a chance to get good at something that would someday turn me into a functioning adult who would be able to thank you years later by taking good care of you when you're too old to take care of yourselves.

I don't know what the hell else you wanted from me at 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18. I know that now, at 30, I should finally HAVE something that i could give back, but i don't, and the real fucking truth at the root is that that's more YOUR fault than it is mine. Granted, it's my responsibility to fix it now, and it's my job to give myself what I didn't get before, and each and every coming day that I spend doing something other than nurturing my own growth is on me, and if I never ever ever get anything I want in my life, that will be 100% my fault.

But I didn't grow myself up into this person. I didn't behave my own way into feeling so worthless.

you plant a goddamn cherry blossom in eight inches of clay and then water it with gasoline and light it on fire and then scold it for not growing. what a joke.

i'm trying so so so so so so so hard to make myself believe the truth that I AM worth investing in. I AM worth partnering with. But I swear to fucking god - legit, no exaggeration, no hyperbole - if I even think too hard about involving anyone else in the pursuit of my goals in any way, shape, or form, i burst into tears. guilt, anger, grief. blunt-force agony of utter embarrassment.

why would anyone want to start a string quartet with me? why would anyone want to co-author/illustrate children's books with me? why would anyone in any position of authority want to spare a few minutes to discuss a business proposal with me? why would anyone believe that my talent could bring value to their preexisting projects? why would someone even look at me when they could watch paint dry instead?

what a fucking MONUMENT i could have been by now if anyone ever cared enough to set me up for success back when it was their job to do so. god, the CONFIDENCE i could have grown into if, back when it mattered, the influential people in my life treated me like I was worth their time. if anyone had ever expressed joy and pride when I succeeded at anything. if anyone had ever done or said anything to make me feel like they enjoyed watching me be good at something.

But why shower your intellectually and artistically gifted child with encouragement and help put them in a position to keep reaching new heights when instead you can fucking hit them for missing the bus and failing a math test lmao amirite?

i look at somebody successful who has anything in common with me and my heart fucking SHATTERS because they were worthy enough for someone to go above and beyond for, and I wasn't. Somebody was proud to help them succeed. my people were never even glad to help me get by, let alone flourish.

i swear im trying to do it for myself now but it is SO HARD to see through this fog.