#Anyways this drove me insane in the best possible way

[sondheim-girly]

Tell me about cherry seeing Bob drunk for the first time :D

@wren-is-a-wreck also wanted to be tagged in this so here ya go! This was at first supposed to be head canons then I decided to just turn it into a little oneshot. I haven’t written anything like this in a very very long time so grant me grace! Also this takes place about a year before canon, when (in my headcanon) Cherry is a sophomore and bob is a junior.

This is inspired by multiple peoples posts, I cant remember all of them but they all get partial credit!!

when bob and cherry first started going out, he was her escape. Things were getting worse at home everyday, there were nights when her father wouldn’t come home at all and her mother would just lock herself in the bathroom, leaving cherry to spend hours sitting by the phone waiting for a call to tell her where he was. It took her a while to learn it was better if she just stayed in her room.

During all that, she had bob. Sometimes he’d come by the house to pick her up and they’d go to the drive in with all their friends, but Cherry best liked the nights when it was just the two of them. They’d drive around Tulsa for hours, and on those nights he would be sweet to her. it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

there were a lot of parts to Bob that he hid from her. he knew she didn’t like it when her friends got drunk, so he tried to avoid drinking too much when she was around. and when he got a bruise after jumping some kid on the east side, he laughed off her worry by telling her it was just from football practice. He sure got hurt a lot at football practice, didn’t he?

Things changed one night when Brill was hosting a party to celebrate the start of the school year- or at least that was how he advertised it. It was more an excuse to have a huge party and get drunk. With the way things were at home Cherry knew that pretending to be having fun at some big party wasn’t something she’d be able to do, so she asked Bob to lie to her friends and tell them she was sick. For a moment she was scared he wouldn’t do it, but he just smiled and kissed her, and told her of course he would. Things should’ve been perfect, but then her parents started screaming and even in their big house the walls wouldn’t cover up the noise of her father’s drunk bellowing voice. She called Bob and Marcia, and even Bev to see if she could crash at anyones house. No one picked up, she should have figured they’d all be at Brills. Desperate, she drove over to his house hoping Bob would be there and they could go on one of their drives and he could make her forget everything at home. That’s not what happened.

she saw him immediately when she walked in the door. He was laughing at something Trip had said and she knew in a moment that something was wrong. He noticed her and went over, putting his arm around her waist. The familiar putrid smell of alcohol filled her senses. He was drunk. She’d seen him drink before, taking a sip every so often out of his friends flask at the drive in, but she’d never seen it nearly as bad as this.

“Cherry! you told me you weren’t coming!” Bob slurred, a near unsettling smile on his face. He tried to lean down and kiss her, but she moved away from him. She saw a dark flash cross his face and for a moment, it was like she was looking at her father.

“Bob, how much have you had to drink?” Cherry accused him,

“Cherry whats wrong…”

“Bob you’re drunk. Really drunk,”

“cmon it’s not that bad-” Bob tried to reach towards Cherry again, but she flinched away. He wasn’t acting like himself, he seemed dangerous.

“Cherry lets go,” Marcia urged, appearing at Cherrys side.

“Cherry stay…” Bob pulled cherry towards him again, this time with more force, and she shoved him away from her

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” She said, stepping back and clutching Marcia’s hand. It felt like the entire world was holding its breath. Cherry shook her head, then turned around and walked out of the door, Marcia quickly following.

Cherry spent that night at Marcia’s house, and the next afternoon when she finally went home she recognized the corvette sitting outside of her house, with a boy holding a bouquet of pink roses (her favorite) and a large box of chocolates- he knew she could never resist chocolate.

and so he apologized, something he couldn’t remember ever doing in earnest. He groveled, even. And she forgives him because of course she does. On days like this when he looks at Cherry as though the entire world orbits solely around her it’s impossible to say no.

He avoids drinking for a while after that, and doesn’t drink around cherry at all. But eventually he slips, and looses the ability to care as much. Cherry gets used to it, still using halfhearted attempts to get him to put his flask away. At least he’s good at not getting truly drunk around her. But jealousy drives him to eventually break that rule and jealousy gets him killed

[shiny-airplane]

So is Ryu's part in Mercy on Me about his caretaker or am I just insane

[naeviskz]

genre. idol!hyunjin x model!f!reader | established relationship

words. 1.5k+ tags/warnings. angst, fluff (towards the end), smut, accusations of cheating, hj is lowkey toxic (but we love it hehe), cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, some mentions of crying, not proofread

this has been in my drafts for years and i finally finished it bc i was tired of seeing it LMAO. btw the position i’m referring to is this (nsfw link), i usually hate vids but this was rlly good imo.

“i think we should take a break...” you admit, voice growing shakier as you spoke. this was never something you wish to say in a million years, you wanted this relationship to work more than anything. but you were at your wits end with everything, talking to hyunjin was like conversing with the wall, never truly grasping any of your concerns.

you noticed the cracks beginning to seep in the midst of six months of being with him. he would often be dishonest of his whereabouts, saying he was out late due to “work” but was actually out drinking at some bar with chan or something. it made no sense for him to lie about such trivial things but he does it without even thinking. this was supposed to be a lovely vacation in paris together but lately you’ve grown tired of feeling like you’re unappreciated. a break from each other might be the best solution in getting his act together once and for all.

hyunjin felt his whole body turn limp as you uttered those words. not only was he blindsided by your decision, but you never indicated before to him that you were ready to propose such a drastic idea. “but why though? don’t you think this is a bit random? i mean this came out of nowhere ___, i thought everything was good between us, why are you suddenly saying this now?” his thick, bushy brows furrowed in confusion, he wasn’t letting you off this easy and you know it.

“i just think it’s for the better right now hyune, we’re both so busy. we have a lot on our plate, especially you… and this relationship is just— it’s only putting more strain on everythi-”

“are you serious ___? do you hear yourself? i knew what i was getting myself into the day i asked you to be my girlfriend. i’m well aware that i can’t be with you 24/7, and neither can you—however, i don’t expect that anyway. all i ever wanted was to have you by my side, i want to work through the hardships with you but if you’re so willing to give up like this then… i don’t know. i don’t even know what to say to this honestly..” hyunjin couldn’t help but cut you off, once his emotions take over, all sense of logic and reasoning is thrown out the window.

he was never one to question his worth in the eyes of his partner, but you were his longest relationship, he saw you as his first and only true love. it never occurred to him that he could lose you, the possibility of this break lasting long enough to make your love fade away was a scary revelation. there had to be a way he could fix this, he couldn’t bear to be without you.

“are you seeing someone else? maybe that’s why you’ve been so distant towards me lately…” he wanted to scream for saying that out loud but at least he got it off his chest. he knows how petty it sounds but he didn’t care, he wanted you to give him answers.

“no! i’m not seeing other people, i don’t have an interest in anyone but you hyunjin. i want to do this for the sake of us, we’re clearly not where we need to be and this break could help with getting us back on track and spending time apart could be beneficial.” you try your best to articulate your words properly but he remained unconvinced, he wasn’t on board with any bit of this.

how could you even be okay with something like this? spending time away from you drove him absolutely insane, he couldn’t fathom taking a break—not from someone as important as you in his life. he just needed to remind you that the love was still there, though it may be but a dull flame, he could ignite the spark again, with the little bit of hope he had left.

the foundation of your relationship was built from shared interests, since you both are part of professions that rely heavily on looks, you refused to see each other based solely off those superficial aspects. instead you got to know each other’s minds, your core values and beliefs, what mattered to you the most. you cherished every one of those deep conversations you shared together, it was a beautiful experience, an indescribable memory that shaped your bond forever.

so why is it now that you feel this way? was he really that oblivious to everything? he should’ve done more to prevent this but now he fears it’s too late. he’s faced with the conundrum of losing you and there wasn’t much time for him to stall or ask for a chance of redemption, he couldn’t waste another second.

“fuck that,” hyunjin angrily spat, his face contorting into a look of pure disgust. “you’re not going anywhere.” he reaches out to grab your waist before you could walk away, aggressively pulling you into his chest.

no matter how much you attempt to escape his hold, he’s not letting you go in the slightest. he’s much stronger than you, could easily lift you up without breaking a sweat. there was no use in fighting, you had no choice but to give in and let this conversation go. once his lips crashed into yours, everything faded to black. as if a simple kiss was the cure-all of mending this decrepit relationship.

hyunjin’s forehead pressed against yours as he pulled away, “shhh, lye down baby,” he hushes your quiet mewls, instructing you to do as he says. “gonna make you feel so good,” his hands slid under your skirt, gently rubbing over your clothed slit “you’ll forget everything.”

* :.･ﾟﾟ･ ✿

“oh my- fuckk, hyunjin!” you cry out, almost on the verge of tears just from how skilled he is, rutting your hips upwards into his mouth as he devours you whole.

the pace of his tongue is relentless, roughly lapping up all your juices like he’s the most starved man alive. you’ve lost count at the amount of times he’s already made you come undone just from his mouth alone. your body’s buzzing with titillation, all you can do is scream and clench your pussy around nothing while he fiercely sucks on your clit.

you couldn’t stop twitching, feeling yet another orgasm approaching. your legs anchored over his shoulders, unable to think or speak coherent sentences as his face was fully buried into your dewy cunt. he relaxes his jaw a bit more, going all the way from the bottom inching further up as he comes back in contact with your puffy clit. at any given moment it feels as if your heart’s about to stop.

“hyunjin-” your heads thrown back into the pillow, digging your nails into his shoulder blades from how overly sensitive you are. “n-need to cum.. can feel it. m’so close.” it surprises you when you’re able to even express such words.

a low grunt can be heard underneath, hyunjin loves hearing you— it’s arguably the best part about going down on you. the hand that wasn’t occupied went straight to gripping a fistful of his ebony hair, continuously moaning his name so loud that you genuinely feel bad for whomever the unlucky people that got to hear this.

just when you thought it couldn’t get anymore intense, he slips 2 of his slender fingers inside, making you gasp from the overwhelming sensation. flashes of white invade your vision, violently shaking as your lips form an “o” in the throes of ecstasy. hyunjin knows your body so well that this is nothing for him, he’s got it all down to a simple science. no one knows your body like he does, and especially no one can make you cum as hard as he can.

“go ahead, make a mess for me baby,” he strongly encourages, picking up his pace as his digits fuck into you faster. “just gonna clean it up with my tongue all over again.”

your eyes roll back to the depths of oblivion, feeling an out of body experience when reaching your climax. a slew of curses leave your shaky breath, limbs trembling and faint tears stain your flushed cheeks. hyunjin slows his movements, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently to make you even more sensitive. you love the way he calls you “good girl” and how proud the look on his face becomes while you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. he doesn’t stop showering you with compliments, only ramping up his affection as he plants fleeting kisses to your thighs, hips, and tummy.

once he’s finally come back up for air you grab his face to pull him into your lips again. moaning in his mouth while getting a taste of yourself was probably the hottest thing hyunjin’s ever witnessed.

“can’t believe you’re all mine.” hyunjin whispers against you, gently massaging your aching thighs. “i love you so much baby.”

“love you too hyune.” you instantly say back, feeling more at ease now that things are somewhat back to normal.

maybe a break isn’t necessary after all, how else would you be able to have such earth shattering orgasms?

- 完 ♡︎

[samaspic31]

Exactly. has star wars always tried to be radically progressive ? sure, yeah, the ot compared the alliance to vietnamese anti american imperialism resistance, the prequels depicted victims of religious persecution and genocide as sympathetic at the height of demonisation of islam and violence in the middle east. Has it always suceed? does it give characters played by actors of all ethnicities the same care ? does it avoid falling into racist tropes? fuck no. And it’s undebatable it historically has centered white characters. So yeah the dudebros are wrong to say star wars’ thesis is either politically neutral or milquetoast liberal “both sides have flaws”, but that doesn’t make star wars good at being radical and exempt of examination of how itself perpetuated racism in many instances. both can coexist.

"in star wars, the villains are old white men for a reason" and the heroes are almost always young white people. So.

[pepsiiwho]

Hey I’m just very curious- do you think you could expand on your thought here: “Persephone isn't a good mother and, imo, would have a very strained, tentative relationship with her actual son (and now daughter hahahahah damn....)”? It’s not a common take I’ve seen- at least in the parts of the fandom I frequented- and I’d like to know more about where you’re coming from. Like I know Nyx isn’t a good mom- particularly to Hypnos- but it’s way less common that I see people saying Persephone is a bad mom.

To be clear, I’m not disagreeing or being confrontational or anything- I’m genuinely curious to hear your thoughts. Also what’s all this about the timeline implications? I don’t have a computer to play the early access on and so I have to hear about it second hand. All to say if you could tear yourself away from Hades 2 long enough to formulate a coherent response I’d be eternally grateful.

Sure! I just got to the final boss in hades 2 so I probably need a break. Ignore the shaking and cold temperature of my skin, I'm normal! Long post under the cut!

Okay lets see, first thing: any nyx or Persephone freedom fighters out there who wanna defend their mommies or whatever do it somewhere else, I don't give af. This isn't directed at you, I just gotta cover my bases. Anyway,

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure Persephone (Pers) loves zagreus, I won't say she doesn't. She lost him once and that grief drove her to leave hell entirely, leaving her husband and home behind for solitude of her own creation. You don't get grief like that unless you loved someone, or the thought of someone, deeply. But, having said that— she was gone for (functionally) all of Zagreus' childhood, adolescence and a non-zero portion of his adulthood. A charitable read of their situation was that she wasn't absentee by choice, not knowingly at least, and if she knew she would've never stayed away as another woman raised her child and her husband abused said child because of her toll on his mental. My read is that she left, abandoning her husband and baby and when Zagreus went to find her she wouldn't even come back with him. He reached out, found her, begged her to come back and she wouldn't. The reasoning for WHY is something I've forgotten honestly, I haven't played HADES story mode all the way through in years, but regardless she didn't instantly come back and will herself into her son's life. Any deniability she had was gone by that point, imo.

And let's say, for argument, she came home and instantly was heavenly and kind and loving and everything zagreus needed then— doesn't change the fact she abandoned them.

I don't think you get to be a good parent when you missed all of your child's most formative years. That sort of loss is something you don't get back, time that doesn't get to rewind just because you made a mistake. I think a common fandom take with hades fans is that the family is fractured but whole by the end and everything is okay. That's nice, I guess, but I think it's boring and uninteresting. I much prefer a read that zagreus moved heaven and hell (literally) to get to his mother and he finally got what he wanted and still wasn't satisfied. She wasn't the goddess he expect. Not the. mother he expected. She was .... something else.

Theres a degree of negligence in her actions that just are unavoidable.

Unless I'm completely misremembering the events of the first game, (which is a real possibility, me and my best friend have done so much insane HC talking over the years canon and Fanon get blurry quickly—) I think she's a bad parent. And this isn't even touching on how her absence made Hades a worse parent and abusive figure to his son. I think of that quote from... somewhere, that was something to the effect "an abused child's saddest realization is that they didn't have a normal parent and (1) abusive parent— they had (2)" Zagreus had to have thought that if she hadn't left, abandoned him, he wouldn't have to endure what he does.

As for time line mess: it's too vague. (It's funny you sent this when you did, I actually was just talking about this with my bestie, all of 15 minutes ago. You cursed me, witch)

So assuming I understood hades lore, with only the first game as our point of reference (no myth, no outside media, just the in game text) Hypnos, Zagreus, Than and Meg are around the same age. Thanatos and Hypnos are twins, meaning they're the same age and it's implied that meg grew up around the twins and zagreus as well. Zagreus openly references their shared childhood with nyx and achilles and probably other characters I forgot. But what matters is that if they grew up together that tells us one of two things:

Gods are functionally made like human children are. Not for a purpose or function but just because the parent wanted them (or had an accident) and then a aspect is applied to them at birth/conception OR

Gods are created by their parents to fulfill some sort of need that the parent didn't/couldn't/shouldn't do themselves. This seems to be the more textually supported answer, if Nyx and her fucking high school football team worth of children mean anything.

Neither option is one I like, because they don't make much sense to me in relation to humanity but that's neither here nor there. Personally, I think godhood should work like the concept of storks do in that when humanity needs a new figure to pray to or invoke, a child is 'born' and delivered to the parent. So, by this logic, the base needs of human begins would come before all else right?

So just within Nyx's family, the ages should really go Chaos > Nyx > Fates [?] > Hypnos > Than > Charon > etc etc etc. Because human beings must sleep before they die and then die before they're transported to hades and so on and so on.

But in THIS model, Hypnos and than would be considerably older then humanity and everyone else in the house, hades included. Which means they'd be far too old to have grown up which zagreus. Or maybe zagreus is way too old to be acting so childish? It's hard to say. Neither answer is particularly satisfying. That also doesn't even bring into account the olympians. And don't event get me STARTED on Melione. God. The timeline has major implications for her and her story depending on where she falls on it.

But that's a whole other rant. Like this is already getting long as shit. I hope this made sense and I'm glad you asked! I enjoy going on my senseless rambles.

Well, back to the horrors (hades 2) <3

[ask-missparker]

Okay, who’s driving? ~ Marvel Blurb

Pairing: Mia x Nikolai, Liane x Ethan, Rick x Luna, Cole x Jeremy

Friendship pair: Josh & Bella

Summary: Moments like this the universe just wants to make it harder on us. In other words, they should’ve just called Cole…

Other characters included/mentioned: Rochelle, Michelle, Cole, Rick and Luna

~~

Warning: Slight small mention of labor, but it is mostly comedic relief to move the story forward more than anything else. Nothing graphic or informative or insane. So you’re fine. ANYWAYs, please chaos from the young avengers and family members enjoy 😉

Note: Sorta OUAT but also could be Marvel fic haha (depending on how you look at it 😊)

A/N: This was a fun idea that could be seen as crack too, due to how much going on in the fanfic. Please enjoy!

~~~~~

It was supposed to be a simple afternoon—well simple for the average group, due to them all hunting down the potions and stuff to stop the tide coming their way. A wicked protection spell.

You know save the day and explore that kinda thing?

So in response they were all sent a little goose chase and hunt for it at the docks.

It was good, they found the hidden gems and a piece of the puzzle to make the potion for later. Even broke half of the curse, destroying the spell, thanks to Liane, Joshua and Bella—restoring memories back for everyone. Yay, everything is safe and sound.

Just as things were going well at the docks with everyone talking and deciding to go back to the town square, Mia felt something off. She gripped Nikolai’s bicep and winced slightly.

“Love, are you alright?” He asked softly placing a hand on her lower back for support.

Mia chuckled awkwardly, “Eh, he he, well, either that was a Braxton Hick or a real one…”

“You’re a two weeks early, t-that’s not possible.” He replied in surprise, his tone sounding calm despite him internally freaking out.

“Yeah, well, since when have your children ever been one to surprise us by coming late?” She added jokingly.

Ethan, who was walking with Liane, looked up noticing his friends in distress. He knew his question would sound stupid, yet he still asked, “Are you guys alright?”

“You’re about to be an uncle again.” Mia murmured before clearing her throat once the contractions left and smiled in relief.

“Oh shit! I’mma be uncle again, I wasn’t there the first time around and now I am! This is exciting news—”

He was swiftly cut off by Nikolai who chuckled, “Uh Ethan, buddy, can you help me get everyone in the cars? Mia, where are the keys?”

Liane gasped, “You let her pregnant ass drive us to the docks?! Have you no shame?!”

“No! We took her car and I drove us here, I gave her the keys for safe keeping afterwards!”

“That still doesn’t make sense to me! You got magic and you couldn’t drive yourself!?”

“My car is getting fixed at Tony’s shop! We did needed another form of transportation here, and I will have you know I drive pretty well.”

Liane grinned, “Well in that case I’m driving! Me and the kids in one car. Ethan, Nik and Mia in the other. To the hospital people! Chop chop!”

The blonde sounded way too confident and overly proud of herself with that statement.

Everyone else looked at her like she was nuts. Yes, they were all vastly skilled in their respective fields but they all had their weaknesses. Everyone and their mother knew that Liane wasn’t the best driver per se.

Ethan loved his wife too much to say anything about it, as he was too busy in shock that Liane snatch the keys out of his hand. Joshua rolled his eyes and groaned at the idea, rubbing his mother’s shoulder in comfort. Even he was a better player in driving someone around.

Nikolai whined knowing it wasn’t the best idea to have the blonde drive both teenagers around to the hospital.

The only one truly brave enough in the chaos at the moment, despite being awakened by the curse to speak up was youngest lady there.

“Absolutely not!” Belladonna exclaimed snatching the keys out of her mom’s hands. “Are we really going to listen to her? Josh back me up here!”

Liane gasped in offensive frustration, “Um excuse you, young lady, but who do you think you’re talking to, sweetie?”

“Mom, I love you, but unfortunately you’re not the best driver.”

“I’m an experienced and excellent driver, sweetie.”

Bella muttered under her breath, “Yeah, when we were cursed and under that damn spell…”

“BELLA?!” Liane screamed in shock and gasped. “My own daughter this is—”

Joshua sighed speaking up, “Aunt Lia, she’s got a point. Last week you decided to give an another driving lesson and crash into a mailbox.”

Liane eyes widen and scoffed, “Well if I ever…it was one time!”

Joshua smirked, “It happened more than once. Also I think I should drive.”

“Him?!” Ethan yelled putting stuff in the car and bumping his head against the trunk.

“You?!” Liane added dramatically, “You’re both children you don’t even have you—”

Bella smirked as well nudging for Joshua to pull out his drivers permit, as he showed it to the others. Liane’s jaw dropped as Ethan blinked. Nikolai was rubbing his wife’s back and snickered at their reactions. He was proud.

“Since when did you-?!” Liane yelled breaking the silence.

“Back in New York, I got it.” Joshua added simply, a hint of confidence in his tone.

Bella couldn’t help but crack a smile and tease him, “Yeah, sure, it took him almost 6 months but he got it..”

Soon enough, different set of bickering broke out between the 5 of them.

“They are both babies they aren’t drive!”

“Liane not the time!”

“I can’t believe you decided to tell us now, Ethan?!”

“What you yelling at me for?!”

“I don’t know, it just feels right to yell.”

“Oh my god..”

“Are you sure we can’t all just drive together in one car?”

“Not a bad idea…out of both of us, who was the biggest space?”

“Idiot, how would that work, Nikolai?”

“I’m brainstorming, shut up.”

“Cause you guys stop fighting please? It’s not helping. I can take us three there, while Ethan gets there first.”

“Joshua, you’re a child!”

“I’m 17!”

“It was worth a shot, Bella…”

“Just let me drive!”

“Mom no!”

“Bella, please, the adults are talking.”

“You don’t even the slightest directions to the hospital!”

“THERE IS GPS FOR A REASON!”

“Shouldn’t we just call an ambulance?”

“That would take too long, Ethan!”

“Oh my goodness my nieces are gonna be born on a dock!?”

“No they ain’t!”

Mia finally shouted over everyone, “GUYS!”

“What?!” They all yelled back.

She sighed pointing to herself in a sing song tone, as if stating the obvious. “Hello.” She added hands on her hips for added effect.

The group was silent before getting the hint all making “ohhh!” and “ah, oh yeah, right.”, along with a bunch of apologies being given by the others. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes and smile despite the mild pain she felt, coming and going.

Ethan spoke up as they followed the lead to the cars and asked, “Wait, wait, who’s driving?”

“I am!” Liane added, as if it was obvious.

She quickly got a bunch of objections and heads being shook in disagreement over her statement. Some rapidly shouted, “NO!”

Nikolai put a hand on his wife’s shoulder in silent support and turn to the group firmly, “Ethan’s driving us, Joshua’s driving you guys.”

“Yes!” Joshua exclaimed happily as him and Bella fist bumped.

Bella called shotgun and scurried over to the car.

Liane opened her mouth to speak wondering if Nikolai was serious or not, but one firm look from the brunette and she shut up completely.

——

———

Soon enough they all arrive to the hospital, Joshua was left to park both cars as Ethan and Liane helped Mia into a wheelchair.

Nikolai was filling out forms when he noticed their friends all there. He stood there in shock, “What hell-? How did you guys—when did you guys get here?”

Michelle smiled sitting in one of the waiting chairs, “You really think we would miss this? Dude, it’s my nieces being born. Plus it’s gives me a chance to give Alexander the middle finger if he arrives.”

“I—But I didn’t call you! No one texted you.”

Bella smirked looking up from her phone, “Oh, when Josh was driving I texted Michelle. Figured she would like to know, but I didn’t expect her to come.”

Rochelle rushed in from one of the hospital rooms and smiled, “Oh hey! You’re here, that’s great, well me and Luna were already here anyway when Michelle called me.”

Mia, who was sitting in the wheelchair rubbing her backside, was about to ask what happened when the loud screams were heard down the hall. They belonged to Rick. Along with the insults.

“Long story short, Ricky got hurt earlier while experimenting on something with the kids..” Rochelle added, “He’ll be fine.”

Bella and Mia both rolled their eyes as Nikolai stayed quiet shaking his head.

Just before anyone could anything a cloud of magical thick smoke appeared. As the smoke cleared away, it showed Cole looking annoyed, angry and worried. The man was enjoying a peaceful afternoon in his shop, with his husband Jeremy while babysitting the children, when he got the damn news. He was in the middle of teaching one of his nephews, George, some cool spells! So he wasn’t happy.

Liane froze meanwhile Ethan signed looking at his brother.

“You should’ve call me!” Cole exclaimed loudly rushing over to the group. “Why did I just get a damn text from Bella that my angels are coming?! You idiots, you could’ve just call me instead of arguing over who gets the bloody keys?! UGH!”

“Cole, we can explain.” Liane started but was cut off.

“Ha! Please tell you didn’t drive, last week you hit my mailbox.”

“THAT WAS YOURS?!”

Ethan and Michelle snorted loudly but was stopped short by a glare from Cole.

Rochelle stay quiet running away to go check on Rick and Luna, not wanting to feel Cole’s wrath today. The redhead almost bumped into a wall rushing away from the group.

Besides Rick yelled, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OUT THERE?!”

Luna shouted over him, “Ricky stay still! The doctor is trying to remove the nails and splinters!”

Cole looked at Nikolai and pointed, “And you! What were you thinking?! As her husband I would believe you would have some sense to inform me or not waste time—”

Nikolai raised both eyebrows and furrow his eyebrows, “Don’t even start with me! I was more focused on my wife than calling anyone. None of us expected this to happen and we would’ve gotten here sooner, if it wasn’t for Liane’s performance.”

Liane gasped, “Me?! I offered to drive but you all refused to take me seriously.”

Bella and Ethan shared a look, slowly wheeling Mia away from the group and into her hospital room. Michelle got the hint, scurry off to follow them into the hallway as well, not without snapping pictures for blackmail later.

Joshua walked in a few minutes later, after successfully parking both cars, seeing his father, aunt and uncle Cole fighting.

“What did..?” He started before being dragged away by his best friend, “Gah, son of—!”

“Come on I’ll explain later.” Bella remarked ushering him into the room.

“Bella what did you do?!”

———

—————

Hehe I agree nothing! Also the poor mailbox 😂

Let me know what you guys think!

Tags: @ask-starrk @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @marvelsfavoriteuncle @elzabeth-stark @sci-fi-lexcon @jackiequick @blueboirick @gcthvile @aidanxsophxoxo @meiramel @trulysummersprivate @gaminggirlsstuff and etc

[ghostinthegallery]

Can you overanalyze Zahndrekh and Obyron. They are my two favorite named necron characters.

Ah yes, the mad nemesor and his loyal bodyguard. The ineffable husbands of wh40k. The bond so deep you can't talk about one without the other.

First, credit to Nate Crowley for Severed the story that really drove the amazingness of this relationship home for me. Man knows how to put a space robot (and me) through the emotional ringer.

Okay, so...how about that time Obyron was about 2-5 minutes away from actually murdering Zahndrekh?

Put a pin in that, we need some background first.

Obyron and Zahndrekh are amazing because on paper I feel like the relationship between them should not work. Obyron is suffering so deeply as he watches the people around him, who he fought with and cared about, fade away. And this is a pain Zahndrekh fundamentally cannot share because Zahndrekh doesn't realize it's happening thanks to his intense denial about biotransference (sort of, put a pin in that too). Add in some command protocols and power imbalance and this should be a tragic combo but it isn't. It's possibly the most wholesome relationship in the 40k universe between two of its best characters, and I credit that to some fantastic writing.

First off, it helps that Zahndrekh is a genuinely good person (or close as 40k can get anyway). He's honorable, he has a sense of humor, he respects his enemies, and doesn't kill when he doesn't have to. He's clever, cultured, and a brilliant tactician. He's also way too trusting because he assumes everyone is as honorable as he is. That should have gotten him killed ages ago but it doesn't because of Obyron. Obyron protects him from threats immediate and more subtle. He's not just a meat shield, Obyron is shrewd and he outplays Zahndrekh's enemies politically as well as physically. And yes, it is Obyron's duty to do this. He's a vargard, he's programmed to protect his lord (because biotransference constantly finds all new ways to suck) but there's more to it than that.

Taking the pin out, let's talk about that attempted murder.

So in Severed, Obyron believes that Zahndrekh's mind has finally snapped. If someone doesn't take over their armies, their mission will fail and a lot of their people will die. Obyron's comrades (what's left of them) have already died. The only way to salvage the situation is to kill Zahndrekh and take over. And after a disastrous battle (plus some emotional manipulation from Zahndrekh's shitty ex) Obyron decides to do it. He is literally about to go kill his lord, he is just taking a quick moment to prepare himself which...yeah fair.

Except Obyron sees Zahndrekh and chooses not to kill him. Luckily for all, it turns out Zahndrekh is no more insane than normal and the merry adventure continues.

Emphasis: Obyron chooses not to kill him. And I think that is a hugely important for their relationship because it shows that Obyron isn't with Zahndrekh because of programming or doctrines, he is there because he wants to protect him. Zahndrekh drives him up the wall sometimes, but when the chips are down, Obyron chooses him. He would literally jump into the abyss for him. Obyron loves him.

Zahndrekh knows full well if Obyron wanted to betray him, he would be dead. Obyron could become an overlord, and the only reason he hasn't is the loyalty and love they have for each other.

"What can love but a being with a soul?" might be one of the most incredible lines in a 40k book (or maybe just a book). Because aside from being unbelievably sweet, itshows that Zahndrekh does see the pain Obyron is in. And he finds a way to comfort him that fits within his...creative worldview. How much of the necrons' situation Zahndrekh does understand is a liiiiiiiitle ambiguous, but he definitely has his coping mechanism for everything: just enjoying life and focusing on the good, and he wants to share that optimism with Obyron. He realizes that Obyron fears what being a soulless machine means, but how can he truly be a soulless machine when he can choose love over ambition?

If there is one thing the necrons demonstrate, it is that immortality sucks. They all need some purpose to keep from going insane, and for Obyron and Zahndrekh that purpose is each other. Zahndrekh lives in his own reality, protected physically and emotionally by Obyron. And Obyron finds purpose in protecting the person who shields him from his own despair.

And I cannot get enough of it.

[microraptorreactor]

Im just. gonna hammer out some thoughts about Ep 17/18. Because man I have thoughts. Spoilers (and bad words) below the cut.

So the very base of the story, Golden Cheese herself, is fucking heartbreaking man. She's lost everything, her friends, her family, her kingdom, and it drove her insane. She built a massive digital city where everyone she lost can live in utmost luxury, but she still isolates herself to a small circle of cookies, probably to try keeping an airtight seal on the true nature of the kingdom. Her deepest desire is to keep her citizens happy and she'll do just about anything to achieve that. Because what is she without her treasure?

And her conversation with Rasine at the end TT-TT Those two bounce off each other so well. I hope they kiss.

And then there's Smoked Cheese!! God, after ep 17 I really wasn't sure about him, but he's such a fucking good character. He's just as scared as GC, if not more. But unlike GC, he's not quite as clouded by grief. He realizes that his god-queen is delusional, and quite possibly has realized for some time. OF COURSE, he'd flip his shit when he finds out DE is back and GC plans on doing nothing! He watched the kingdom burn down for the first time! And he has to watch these cookies who it's his job to protect, that he quite possibly grew up around, walk around like nothing's ever gone wrong. He has to keep up a facade that everything's fine and there isn't another massive threat looming over the city while his queen berates him for questioning her. He has every right to be angry and scared! And I can't particularly blame him for turning on her and airing out the truth. Trying to blow up the kingdom was 100% a dick move tho. But the scene where he's LITERALLY BEGGING GC TO KILL HIM??? It's my personal interpretation that he was terrified to go back to the Digital City, and therefore going back to ignoring all the trauma of the war.

Honestly, I feel like SC's whole villain ark might have been avoidable if GC and her little circle of friends sat down and had a heart-to-heart about the Dark Flour War, but that would require any of them to be emotionally vulnerable. Something that everyone in this kingdom is alergic to, apparently.

Mozarella cookie I certainly have. Feelings about. Her whole deal with erasing cookies memory so that they don't catch on to the digital kingdom is a detail I really like, but as a character, I just don't really care for her. It's probably just my personal taste, as I like the angsty characters and she just doesn't have that going on. I haven't finished the mineing missions story so maybe she has some in that. I feel the same way about Burnt/Basque Cheese, he's cool he just doesn't have enough going on in the backstory department for me to care.

Fettuchini Cookie's concept is terrifying. She's slowly losing herself to factors outside her control. There are literal bugs eating her brain. But the narrative doesn't really do anything with that? She's just kind of Olive Cookie's weird adopted child. To be fair the story is long enough, both chapters together clock in at about two and a half hours assuming that you have the best possible team. But she could have been so much more with that concept! Especially since she's playable instead of actually-really-important Smoked Cheese.

Olive Cookie is Olive Cookie. She's there to be an exposition archeologist. She serves her purpose in the story. I have no complaints about her. Y'all are being too harsh.

anyways, back to working on my OCs!

[circledemptiness]

Show me what you like

Fandom: Batman (Arkham Knight) Pairing: Edward Nigma (The Riddler) x Reader Rating: Explicit +18 Tags: First time, masturbation, vaginal sex, romance ✦ Read on AO3 – Older work (and it shows) ✦ Read the revised version "Show Me What You Dream Of"

Edward Nigma never had the opportunity to be intimate with anyone else before, and the years spent recluse, obsessing over the caped crusader, didn't help. A story about Edward's difficulties to interact with others, and his first time having sex.

Edward Nigma, the Riddler, Gotham’s one true genius, had no time for friends. He had plans, a design, a revenge to take. Getting close to someone seemed grotesque, an absolute and utter waste of his most precious time ––and for what? He had everything it required to function ; he never needed anyone for anything .

Working for days and nights, plotting and scheming, he never realized the weeks, turning into months, turning into years passing since he left the GCPD to become the man he was today. And from this unfruitful era, Edward did not keep many mementos; at best there were newspaper clippings retelling his temporary successes and eventual downfall thrown seemingly carelessly on one of his desks. Sometimes, he’d get back to them, unsure why, and look at the picture of this man, ten years younger, a few dozen pounds fuller, all cocky and pretty. Before the big old Bat drove him insane and recluse —though he’d never admit it.

When he does, he can’t help but graze his fingertips against his face, as if to persuade himself that he was not the shell of this man, once bubbly and charming. He rarely takes a look at his reflection, but when he accidentally does, the reality hits him like a punch in the guts, cuts the air from his lungs. Not that it matters, really. Surely, time does that to a man; he was not a thirty-something years old young man anymore, he was now in his mid-forties. Surely, this was the reason why his body changed so much. Nothing to do with his degrading mental state and hostile life habits. And who cares anyway.

Edward was always a busy man, with great designs and aspirations. Even ten years ago, he didn’t have many friends. Waste of time and energy. Didn’t date either. Back then, he pushed the idea aside, putting his love life on hold, too busy developing his new life as the Riddler. He’ll figure it out later. He just needs to finish corrupting this network, then he can think about it. Admittedly, Edward wasn’t opposed to the idea of dating anyone, back then. He could use some company from time to time. Or just a way to empty his mind. Take a break from his hard work. There was another reason why he was interested in dating, much less… noble , perhaps. 

He never got lucky , when it came to being intimate with someone. It weighed him greatly when he was working at the GCPD, still vigorous and lovable. Not that he was that interested in having sex in the first place, but the thought crossed his mind a few times. He did feel the overwhelming feeling of desire from time to time, but he always took care of his needs himself. A quick handjob every once in a while did the trick for him. Edward never needs help with anything.

Still, he did try to lose his virginity in the past. A few times. Pursuing someone he found attractive at a bar, trying to engage (poorly) with a coworker… alas, his burning ego usually pushed everyone away. Frankly, the man sounds like an arrogant jerk. He couldn’t get the hint however, didn’t understand what was wrong with them —because, evidently so, they were the ones at fault, not him. Why would there be anything wrong with him? He was smart, funny, and honestly not too bad looking, then. What else could anyone possibly wish for?

Things changed, a few years later. When his mind turned to fury-fueled mush, obsessed over the caped crusader. Didn’t think much of it. Didn’t feel lonely. Didn’t think of his sex life. Or lack thereof. In fact, he gradually stopped jerking off altogether and feeling anything other than anger, pride, and torment. His life, no, his purpose was greater than the vulgar nature of sex, and he was too busy to get involved with others –which made him noticeably unpleasant to be around. As if he turned into a feral beast, the more isolated he was.

People didn’t like to hang out with him. He knew it. Of course he did. Because they are too stupid to get him. Because he’s misunderstood. Not his fault. He is surrounded by morons. Either way, he’s not surprised, nor hurt; in fact, he doesn’t have time for them either, and most people bothered him greatly in general. Though, a couple of them were merely tolerated around him. Such as yourself.

Not that you were anything special. You were not . But you would frequently hang out at his workshop, under false pretenses, asking him questions that “only he could know the answer to”, complimenting his hard work… Stroking his ego in a way that makes his chest swell. So you were tolerated. Allowed to stay for a couple of minutes. He still didn’t understand why you were here, most of the time. Couldn’t quite decipher your expressions, everytime he greeted you. Didn’t matter. You seemed to acknowledge his brilliant intellect, and that was good enough for him.  

He never reciprocated. Never said anything nice about you. Besides a few backhanded compliments, sometimes. “You’re less stupid than you look.” “I’m actually impressed, you’re not a total moron.” Things like that. Things that are insulting to everyone else. But they actually mean something to him. Not that he cares , or anything. It’s just the best that he can do, the best he can say to another person while always being in control and always reminding them that he was superior. When he does, there’s a look on your face that he can’t describe; furrowed brow, the light in your eyes turning dark. And then, you abruptly leave the place. Couldn’t tell why. You’re so complicated.

Edward is usually good with his words, but around you it seems like he’s speaking another language. You don’t react the way he thought you would. And this frustrates him. Why must you be so complicated? Why can’t you be happy with what he says? Why can’t you see that he’s trying to interact with you? 

Worst part is how frantic his heart beats when you’re around. Pumping so much blood at once, his entire core and face feel like burning. Can’t think straight. Feels dizzy. Uncomfortable. Unacceptable . 

It gets to him, at times. More than once, your presence troubles him so much that whatever he’s feeling turns into visceral anger, and he snarls at you, orders you to leave him alone, to leave the building at once. He’s busy. You’re distracting. Can't you see? And the worst thing is that you do it . Stop seeing him for a few weeks at times. And it drives him insane. Why would you not come back ? Crawling? Begging? It’s not that he misses you. He does not .

When you do come back (you always do) he feigns indifference. His body trembles, his hands shake, there’s even a comfortable warmth building behind his navel, and he hates all of it. Hates how you make him feel. But he plays nice. Merely bothered. Polite. Not that he doesn’t want you to leave, no. But he needs to be the bigger person in the room. Remain superior at all times. And every time he greets you with disinterest in his voice, he can’t read your face. You cock a brow. There’s a veil in front of your eyes, like you’re hurt. Are you hurt? Disappointed? Why aren’t you smiling anymore?

This weird tango has been going on for a while now. You come, he endures, until he snaps. You leave. And then he can’t sleep. Tosses and rolls in bed. Wonders where you are. With who you are. What you do with them . And he hates thinking about it. Hates thinking about you . Hates how you make him feel. Weak, vulnerable. The Riddler isn’t weak. 

But then, why does it hurt when your smile fades from your face the second he asks you what you’re doing when you accidentally touch his arm? What’s in your eyes at this moment? You have to tell him, because he will only suppose. Hope . He wants more than a hypothesis. He wants confirmation. Proof. And so he silently pleas with you. Lock eyes with you, in a very uncomfortable manner. It burns his eyeballs, burns his soul, makes his whole body tingle and he can’t think straight. But he keeps drilling his eyes into yours. Trying to make you see something. Understand something. You make me feel something and I don’t know what to do about it, please help me. But you don’t understand. Or maybe you do, but chose not to react. Either way, it hurts.

You just stand still, right in front of him. Are you waiting for something, too? Your eyes go down on his mouth for a brief instant, and you part your lips slightly. Sigh. It does things to him. Makes his face flush. Cuts the air from his lungs. And, even more embarrassing, his cock gets semi-hard. Then, your eyes go back to his. Expectantly. He feels like he could grab you by the waist right now, devour your lips, sink his teeth in your neck, leave marks to remind you of this instant. In a matter of seconds. But he won’t. That would be improper. He wants you to want him back . And this is such a fucking weird feeling. One that makes no sense to him.

Eventually, you break the silence. A question. So simple he blinks twice and asks you to repeat yourself.

“Would you like to go to that Italian restaurant on 5th Avenue tomorrow evening?”

Edward’s mouth hangs open, he stares at the void, malfunctions. Like, a date? The thought of it makes his face flush, his heart pumps blood at a very worrying pace, his mouth dries. No word remains in his throat when he tries to answer. He nods. Positively. And the light goes back on your face. The light that makes you look even more beautiful. And you smile. It does things to him. God, you do things to him .

When you leave the building, Edward melts on his stool and remains immobile, shocked, thunderstruck. I’m going on a date. And then, the terror. The stress. The anxiety.

Edward hasn’t been on a date in a decade . A million questions race in his head, as he tries to establish a mental checklist, acting methodically. He is not panicking. What is he supposed to do? Should he bring you something? What should he wear? Does he have anything to wear that isn’t completely nasty and covered in paint? 

Should I bring condoms?

He immediately smacks his hand on his face and grunts loudly. What is he thinking about? What does he imagine? That he’s going to fuck you tomorrow night? This is embarrassing. 

What if she wants it too?

Now, he’s being ridiculous. He bangs his fist on the table, metallic tools dancing and echoing on the surface, and groans audibly. Leaves the place. Can’t focus at work anymore.

Edward fucked his hand two times, that night, your name on his lips.

_____

_____

Edward’s hands shake as he’s buttoning his clean forest green shirt. He spent the day getting ready for tonight. Took a well deserved shower. Washed his hair. Shaved his beard. And when he’s looking at his reflection, he sees a glimpse of the person he used to be. Underneath all the grime and exhaustion. A man who is confident in himself, more charming than the filthy hermit he was a hour ago. He debated whether he had to get you flowers or not. Thought it’d be too intimate. Too romantic. After all, it was probably just a casual dinner. Nothing more. He licks his lips, nervously. 

He’s still nervous when he’s at the restaurant. Fifteen minutes early. Touching the silverware. Turning the glasses, as if one side was better than the other. Fingertips drumming on the table. Why is his heart so loud tonight? He can’t even hear himself think . What if you don’t come? Even worse, what if you do?

A rushing feeling makes him shiver, turns his blood cold, flips his stomach. This is a mistake . He shouldn’t be here. This shouldn’t be happening. What was he thinking about? He’s the Riddler! What is he doing at a restaurant with, with–– Argh! Edward stands up, grabs his coat, ready to abruptly leave the place, when a friendly voice interrupts his chaotic train of thoughts.

“Oh, you just arrived! Thank God, I thought I was being late…”

Your voice startles him. He turns his head, and realizes that he does look like he just arrived, about to remove his coat instead of putting it back on. And as soon as he sees your face (perfect), your smile (delicious), and the dress you’re wearing (exquisite), he removes his coat and sits down. Changed his mind, somehow. His face is now crimson red, and there’s a burning sensation in his belly. Almost comfortable. He could get used to this feeling. He looks at you and hears nothing else but his heartbeat, his blood pumping into his veins. You asked a question, but he didn’t hear it. He hummed nonetheless. You giggle. His heart sings.

He doesn’t care about the food. Doesn’t care about the music. Doesn’t care about the waiter. There’s only you in the whole restaurant. Every part of you shines, and he tries his best not to show how excited you make him. Probably does a poor job at it. So he does what he does best: he gloats. A whole monologue about how intelligent he is, how Gotham will fear him, a description of his latest invention and why it is so glorious, praising his abilities and power. You nod, smile at him. 

Then, he gets painfully aware. Aware of how he’s the only one talking. How he hasn’t asked you a single question. How he’s just acting the same way he always does, even back then, when he worked at the GCPD, when he tried to get the attention of his coworker at the coffee corner, or when he’s at a bar and there’s this stranger smiling at him. Shut up . The words pour out of his mouth like a torrent of arrogance and pride, and he can’t stop, because he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to do. Shut up . For half a second, even that, you briefly looked somewhere else. Why did you look somewhere else? Are you bored? You’re talking too much . Edward talks. Edward talks, because he’s scared of the silence. But he’s even more afraid of losing your interest, so he doesn’t finish his story, he crashes it brutally.

“Anyway…”

He clears his throat, looks down on his plate. Barely touched anything. Too busy talking. There’s a painful feeling tearing his chest apart. An insecurity swallowing him whole. He hasn’t been on a date in so long. Hasn’t spent any time with anyone else but himself for years. He forgot. Forgot how to act. Forgot how to please. He’s clenching a nervous fist on the table, knuckles turning white, until his fingernails carve half moons in the palm of his hand. Then, as if you read his mind, you put your hand ––infinitely more delicate, softer, warm–– on top of his ––calloused, tired, tense. He forgets how to breathe for a second, feels something hot inside of him.

“I’m having a great time, Edward.”

His heart shatters in his chest. Daggers stabbing the pumping organ. She’s having a great time . That’s good, right? Of course it is. It means he’s doing well. Good. I mean–– of course. As expected . He tries to convince himself that he’s in control. Because if he doesn’t control the situation, he’s uncomfortable. Disoriented. 

“You know, it reminds me of something that happened to me…”

When you talk, you sound like an angel. You are so expressive. Your hands move on their own, draw patterns in the air. Your eyes shine, your lips twist into a smile. Sometimes, you giggle. Edward isn’t used to listening. But if it’s you, he could do it all night. He drinks your words eagerly, and each one of them brings him closer to you. He’s learning about you. He will memorize every single thing you tell him. He needs to know everything about you.

Occasionally, he feels your eyes lowering, sitting on his lips, just like you sometimes do. It makes his heart swell and core tremble. He looks at your lips, too. Wonders how they feel. How they taste. Wonders if you’re thinking the same thing right now. His breath quickens, until he looks back at you. He feels his head spin lightly. Then, the conversation resumes.

_____

_____

Edward pays for your meal. You protest. He insists. Feels like a date. You squeeze his arm gently and thank him, and he nearly dies .

He walks you home. The weather feels nice tonight. The air is cool on his burning face. Helps him calm down, a little bit. It’s dark enough that you might not see his face flush every time you laugh, every time you compliment him. He wishes he could articulate how beautiful you look tonight. 

Your hand finds his, even in the dark. Your fingers brush against his, delicately. At first, it feels like a mistake, an accident, so he removes his hand. But your touch gets more precise, until you hold his hand, unafraid. Slip your fingers between his. He doesn’t fight back. He’s shaking, can’t breathe properly, can’t even walk straight. His heart forgot how to function for a moment. But he allows it. It feels nice . So nice that he wishes you’d never let go of his hand. Never let go of him . But he won’t admit it. The rest of the walk is silent, but it isn’t uncomfortable. Everything feels right. 

When you both stand in front of your apartment, he struggles letting go of your hand at first. There’s another silence, but this time it’s uncomfortable, painful, and he swallows hard. You look at him, and there’s something in your eyes that seems dangerous. Your pupils are dilated, your lips very slightly parted, your cheeks subtly rosy. He probably looks as agitated right now, grabbing the door frame so harshly his knuckles turn white. You look beautiful, your face distorted with want, and need. For him?

“Do you want to come inside?” you whisper. Yeah, yeah he wants to. He wants it so badly his heart might explode, his cock already twitches in his pants. He’s not naive, he knows the meaning behind this invitation, coupled with the way you’re leaning against the door, your hips slightly tilted forwards, almost imperceptibly so. A rush of adrenaline hits him like a punch in the guts, it takes his breath away, and makes him forget about his entire alphabet. Instead, he nods. A smile, mischievous, lustful, but also tender, appears on your face, and he nearly cums in his pants.

When he enters your apartment, everything looks, well… like you. He can see more of you, your personality, in the decoration, the books on your shelves. It feels intimate, more than he’s used to anyway. The most intoxicating thing about your apartment is your scent, floating everywhere. While you remove your coat, he closes his eyes briefly. Gets surrounded with the smell of you. He wishes he could smell you all day. It’s sweet, fruity, delicate. It’s you.

Your hand snakes along his back, and he feels himself shake, silently hissing at your touch. You grab the collar of his coat and gently tug at it, inviting him to get comfortable. Your eyes lock while he undresses, and there’s this stare, again. Everything feels intense, his heartbeat drumming inside his head, your breath quickening, his face burning surely turning his skin and the tip of his ears crimson red, his cock full of blood that he tries to conceal by folding his coat around his arm, covering his pants. A futile move. Not fooling anyone. But at this moment, he feels too exposed.

With the same gentleness and starving eyes, you raise your hand and cup the back of his head. He’s not sure what he’s feeling right now; a mix of pleasure from feeling the soft skin of your fingers wrapping around his hair, excitement for what is eventually about to happen, and terror of the unknown. He licks his lips, tentatively wraps an arm around your waist. When you allow him, Edward gets bold, pulls you closer to him. The warmth emanating from your body envelops him, he’s melting against your touch. You lift yourself on your toes to compensate for the clear size difference between the two of you, and put your lips on his. A tender, chaste kiss, to let him get used to you.

Edward closes his eyes and surrenders completely to the almost foreign, now unfamiliar feeling of being kissed. Your lips are heavenly; soft, plush, warm. His heart is going at a feral pace now, and he just wants more of it, more of you, so he grabs your waist tighter, pulls you closer; so close that he feels your lower body against him, and this is driving him insane, lits a furnace behind his navel.

You kiss him more, and deepen your touch. Force his mouth open, penetrate it with your tongue. Oh . Your tongue is wet, burning. Tastes like the wine you ordered, and something else, something surreal that makes his cock painfully hard, makes his body hot and dizzy. You moan between two kisses, he sighs and hisses. He drinks all the noises you make, gets drunk on the reactions of your body. You’re subtly grinding against him, just enough to make his cock twitch, throb, leak; your other hand explores his chest over his shirt, he’s sure you can feel his frantic heartbeat through it.

Your touch gets more insisting, more possessive; tugging at his hair hard, granting you a low moan from him, pulling him as you backwalk through your apartment. Guide him on the couch. You both sit down, only briefly; you’re quick to pull at his collar. Rolling on your back, opening your legs. An invitation. He’s quick to get on top of you, kissing you, sucking on your tongue, biting your lips. Starved. There’s a tight feeling in his chest, followed by a wave, the longer he kisses you and feels your hands exploring his body. Your touch leaves marks on his soul, and there’s something dangerous building inside of him when he feels your hands on his back, his neck, sides, grabbing at his strong arms. He gasps when you moan, and it’s worse when you start grinding against his clothed erection, rocking your hips deliciously. Oh . Oh no .

The feeling is overwhelming, too overwhelming. It hits him like thunder in his whole body, and suddenly his body jerks, he groans against your lips, feeling his cocking twitching, spasming, and finally releasing his seed. Edward freezes. He holds his forehead in his hand and stares at the void in disbelief. No, no, no, NO! He curses himself, realizing that he came in his pants, from making out with you. What is he, a teenager? An intense feeling of shame surrounds him. A crippling insecurity. His mind is spinning. He doesn’t look at you anymore, his eyes are the ones of a terrified animal. You seem to notice something, slowing down your kisses, until you simply caress the back of his neck, a quizzical look on your face.

“I have to go…” he mutters, and you open wide eyes. You tell him something, but he didn’t understand, didn’t listen. Can’t hear anything anymore. She’s probably disappointed . He leaves the couch you were on, gets his coat. He feels your hand on his biceps, gentle, comforting. She’s pitying me . He removes his arm from you, and leaves your place in a hurry, running down the stairs.

When he’s back home, Edward reaches the bathroom and quickly undresses, as if his clothes were burning his skin, as if they were covered in his shame, soaked in failure. When his hands slip in the elastic of his underwear, pulling it down slowly, it reveals his cock, wet and sticky, the fabric covered in cum. He groans, throws away the proof of his weakness in the laundry basket, and takes a shower. An attempt to wash away the humiliation.

He scrubs his skin, hard. As if it would remove the memory of this night. Convincing himself that none of this ever happened. The warm water runs down his tense body. Feels good. Edward lets the drumming drops crash on his burning skin, wraps himself in the comforting warmth of the shower. After a while, he eventually calms down, a little bit. He presses his forehead against the tile of the shower wall, closes his eyes. Focus on the water pressure against his shoulders, but something in his chest twists, stings, a knot forms in his throat.

His mind wanders, thinking about his evening. The way you laughed when he made a joke at the restaurant. How soft you brushed his hand when he felt insecure. How desired he felt when you pulled him against your heated body. 

It was going so well, everything was so good. It was supposed to be a perfect evening. He could have had you, that night. 

Why did he have to ruin everything?

_____

_____

Edward is in a terrible mood, the next day. When he makes a simple mistake in his calculation, he violently bangs his fist on the table. Cursing loudly at everything. Even the Riddlerbots seem like they’re mocking him. He looks at their robotic faces with rage. Pathetic , they seem to call him. He throws a wrench on the floor, sits down on his stool and holds his face in his hands, trying to compose himself. His phone vibrates, and sure enough it’s another message from you. The third one today. 

He deletes it before reading it. Pretends none of it ever happened. That you don’t exist. That he doesn’t care. He’s not hurt. He never needed anyone in his life. He just has to come back to the person he was before he met you. Just has to bury the feelings he had for you. He can do it; he’s been doing it his whole life. Being alone. And who needs love anyway? Not him.

Another day goes by, and Edward’s mood is still sour. Less angry, but more sad. You stopped messaging him, it hurts for some reason. He’s hurt that you stopped caring, even though he was the one to ignore you, push you away. How he wishes you could just understand him. A part of him wants to call you, see you, hold you tight in his arms and never let go of you. But the other, more dominant, wants to rip his heart off his chest and lock it in a box.

He’s looking at his phone. Why aren’t you texting him? Did he successfully make you run away? Of course he did, he creamed his pants in the middle of a kiss and then escaped your apartment. Stupid . Incompetent . 

His chest feels heavy, his breath is labored. He feels confused, hurt. Lonely . He hates feeling that way. Sometimes, he wishes he never met you. And sometimes, he wishes you could be here and hold him, like you held him two nights ago. He misses your smell. Edward melts on his chair, and sighs. His face twists in anguish. He removes his goggles and buries his face in his hands, trying to collect himself. Why must everything be so complicated?

“You never answered me back” is all you say when you’re next to him, startling him. He didn’t even hear you approach him. He looks at you, eyes watery, and his heart pounds hard. You drag a chair next to him. He can’t look at you right now. It’s okay, you were not finished.

“Did I do something wrong?”

He shakes his head. Of course not. It’s not you, it’s me.

“Did I misinterpret something?”

He buries his forehead in his hand, and shakes his head again. It was all he’s ever wished for. No mistake here.

“So… is it because you..?”

Edward grunts. Of course she noticed. He wasn’t very subtle. Jerking like a teenager, stomach flipping. The humiliating feeling comes back, crawling under his skin, clawing at his heart, and his pain turns into anger, as he snarls at you.

“What are you doing here?” Please do not leave , is what he meant to say. Your eyes turn dark, and you furrow your brow. He knows this feeling, you’re angry. No, furious .

“If you want me to leave, I will leave. But be very careful with your answer because I won’t come back this time.” Your words are sharp, they translate all the frustration you’ve built over the months you’ve been hanging around Edward. He knows it. 

“So, do you want me to leave?” You repeat. Edward looks at you, feels cornered. He doesn’t like this feeling, he feels humiliated. Exposed. Weak. But also, he understands that he’s going to lose you if he doesn’t take a step in your direction. And he does not want to lose you. He shakes his head. You sigh, and all the muscles of your face relax, you look as soft and tender as before. The light is back in your eyes. Gently, you put your hand on top of his. Instinctively, he grabs it in his. Feels good. He missed you.

“I don’t care about it, Eddie.” You whisper softly. “It was… it felt amazing, didn’t it?”

Edward exhales, a faint smile flashing on his face. Yeah, it did.

“It’s been… a long time for me. I got carried away, rushed it. Sorry.” Why is she apologizing? Edward clears his throat, and figures that he should explain himself.

“Well… Technically I suppose you could say that it’s been a while for me too.” Edward mutters under his breath.

“What do you mean?”

His face goes red, and here goes the humiliating feeling again . His jaw is clenched.

“Oh, you mean you’ve never…?

– No. Never.” He interrupts you. He removes his hand from yours and looks away, embarrassed, and angry. But mostly embarrassed. You sigh, softly, and pull at the sleeve of his shirt, making him look back at you. You offer him a smile. It does things to him. Like you’re taming him when he just wants to throw a tantrum. He’s not sure how you do it.

“I don’t care, Eddie… I don’t feel any less attracted to you.” What does she mean “attracted”? She’s attracted to me? Edward swallows hard.

“Would you… be interested in a do-over dinner soon? I’ll take things slower this time, I promise” you coo, in a soft voice. Edward opens wide eyes. Not only are you interested in him, but you want to try again even after his bafflingly disappointing performance? This feels… surreal. But he nods. Firmly.

“That would, that would be nice…”

Edward stutters, his heart racing in his chest. You seem pleased, no, thrilled by his answer. You immediately lean closer to him and kiss him on the lips. It’s soft, like a caress. Edward shivers, and hums appreciatively. When you break the kiss, his mouth hangs open, already craving more. You giggle, and press your lips on his once again, softly. A simple kiss, as tender as a feather.

“Come back to my place tonight? I’ll make us dinner.” 

Edward nods, and this time he leans in to kiss you back. Feels nice. When you leave, it feels like a weight is off his shoulders. He feels lighter, calmer. Happy.

_____

_____

When he knocks on the door, Edward still feels as nervous as he did on your first date. It seems like there is a much bigger pressure, this time. Don’t ruin everything again , seems to scream his mind. Your words calmed him a little bit, but he still isn’t sure if you were just saying things to reassure him or if you sincerely didn’t mind the accident . Either way, he jerked off a couple of times a hour before leaving for your place, for good measure. Hopefully, this will make him last longer this time. 

His spine shivers when he’s thinking of his failed performance, but he doesn’t have the time to overthink as you’re already at the door, looking as beautiful as ever, inviting him inside. Time to shine, Nigma .

_____

_____

His heart is pounding. It always is, when you touch him. It pumps violently, echoes in his skull, flushes his face. A burning sensation radiates behind his navel, makes his chest swell, when your delicate hands brush over his shoulders, embracing him. He’s hesitant at first, always afraid of hurting you with his hands that are more familiar with engines than soft flesh. Your mouth finds his, trembling, unsure. A soft kiss pressed against his lips, gentle enough to make him close his eyes.

Your fingers brush against his hand, as you pull him kindly, making him follow you to your bedroom. A wave of apprehension and anxiety crashes inside of him, but his cock twitches with interest, so he complies. 

Your scent is everywhere, it’s like penetrating a garden of flowers. Edward lets you guide him to the bed, he sits down. The bed sheets are soft under his hands, like a cloud. He’s never been to anyone’s bedroom before, he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do to make it right. Thankfully, you seem to always know what is on his mind. You sit on his lap, straddling him. Your fingers slip through his hair, and he wraps trembling fingers around your waist. For a moment, all you do is caress each other; his fingers run on your spin, yours caress the back of his neck. Soft content sighs fill the room, he feels your shared heartbeats as he presses your body against his. Your chest feels soft and warm against his toned body. He curiously explores the supple flesh of your thighs, morphing against his fingertips, while you deepen your kisses.

Edward sighs and breaths quickly when you suckle on his tongue, nibble on his lip, moan in his throat. Eventually, his cock throbs, hardens, pressing against you. He’s nervous, wondering if you‘ve noticed him getting hard, but the now rocking motion of your hips tells him you have. He hisses at the friction, grabbing your waist slightly more tightly, closing his eyes. Trying his best to maintain his composure. 

Still leading the way, you pull your dress over your head, revealing more flesh than he’s ever seen in his entire life, your most intimate parts covered in satin and lace. Edward’s face turns cherry red as he takes a look at your tempting body, a nervous smile on his face, almost amused. Of course, you’re wearing green.

“I love the color” he murmurs, his chest tightening. You chuckle softly, caressing the back of his neck.

Edward places a trail of short and soft kisses on your shoulders, your neck, your collarbones, while his hands explore your now uncovered waist. Your hips rocking against his member encourages him, as his grip gets tighter on you. His teeth and tongue replaced his lips, as he’s suckling on your neck, biting the fragile skin. Marking you. He’s always been the kind to sign his work, isn’t he? 

You moan under his touch, tugging at his hair more firmly, your movements getting more insisting. His hands crawl on your back until they reach the clasp of your bra and he closes his eyes, focusing on its mechanism. It takes him only a second to figure it out and unclasp it. He works with much more complicated engines on a daily basis, after all.

Your bare chest makes his mouth water. Your nipples are already erected, like two tempting fruits, and Edward is starved. He lowers his head and tentatively takes one of your nipples in his mouth, and the way you moan makes his cock throb in his pants. He’s careful, discovering what to do, and he realizes that this is oddly familiar: learning, experimenting, his mind laser focused on figuring out how you function. Taking mental notes, gaining experience as he sucks on your nipple, licks your breasts, kisses your soft flesh. His hand soon joins his mouth, caressing your sensitive nub, twisting, pinching, rolling. Following the noises you make, studying the way your body jerks and shivers. Edward feels excited, probably more excited than he is horny. Discovering something new, and mastering it, is what he does best. The absolute rush of adrenaline he’s feeling right now makes him feel dizzy, and when he removes his head from your breasts to give you a sincere and exhilarated smile, your face turns red.

In a flash of courage, Edward holds you by the thighs and flips you on your back, nested between your legs. You look so beautiful, laying on your bed, open to him, neck covered in love bites, a thin layer of sweat on your stomach. His eyes wander, from your lips, your breasts, navel, to your panties. He notices a dark spot between your legs, from the fabric being soaked, and it makes his cock leak. Delicately, he inserts his fingers around your hips, inside your panties, and removes them slowly. A generous string of your fluids connect the fabric to your aching cunt, and the obscene view makes Edward hiss.

Your legs spread, your cunt is completely exposed, open. Glistening with desire. Edward swallows hard, feeling his heart drumming in his chest. There’s so much he wants to do to you, he wouldn’t know how to begin. A veil of anxiety and stress appears and suddenly takes over, as Edward panics and realizes that he does not know what to do. He’s caressing the inside of your thighs, his mind racing, calculating, developing scenarios. You notice his perplexed look, as always.

“Are you alright?” you ask, softly, in a comforting voice, pulling him out of his thoughts. Edward looks at you and clears his throat.

“Show... show me how you like it. Please.“ there is something oddly surgical in his voice, almost serious. You open wide eyes, destabilized, until you realize that this is not Edward Nigma speaking, but the Riddler, desperate to solve this completely foreign and new riddle. A faint smile appears on your face. You sit up to kiss him adoringly, then lay back down. 

You tilt your hips comfortably, relax your thighs around him, your fingertips brushing against your stomach. Under the observing gaze of Edward, caressing your thighs, your hand slowly crawls between your legs. He swallows thickly.

You briefly run your fingertips along your entire slit, open your lips, as if to present Edward your whole cunt. You hear him gasp softly, then move your hand higher, laying it on your pubic bone, your middle and ring fingers now carefully placed around your clit. You describe a familiar pattern, circling your sensitive nub. You moan softly, looking at Edward’s crimson face, completely hypnotized by your motion. He’s biting his lip, studying, learning, his chest lifting up and down rapidly. He sometimes looks up at you, and his beautiful eyes make you shiver, and moan his name. The first time he hears you sing his name, his mouth opens and he can feel his cock throb. He wonders if you ever touched yourself this way, moaning his name, when you were alone at home. He resumes his attention on your cunt, and clears his throat. It makes you smile.

Feeling the heat growing in your core, and the juices dripping out of your cunt, you slip one finger in your aching hole, soon followed by a second one, pumping them slowly in and out of you. You feel Edward’s grip on your thighs tightening, as he pants, visibly aroused by the view of you pleasuring yourself. Your body shivers, you tilt your hips slightly upwards, encouraged by Edward’s burning gaze on you. 

Edward slowly puts a trembling hand on your pubic bone, and you look at him curiously. A low moan escapes your voice as you feel his thumb on your clit, repeating the same movements you showed him earlier. He experiments with speed, pressure, following your reactions, and it is so perfect, simply perfect. You wail under his touch, burying your fingers inside of you and curling them, touching your sensitive spot, making you moan louder, and there’s a very curious look on Edward’s face, who seems to try to understand, decipher what you’re doing inside of you. And there’s only one way to find out.

While he’s still playing with your clit, Edward’s other hand tugs at your wrist gently. You remove your fingers in a soft sob, looking at him while your heart pounds in your chest, and Edward slowly penetrates two fingers inside of you. They are much bigger than yours, more calloused, and the way he spreads your aching cunt feels so good, it makes you moan deeply. 

Edward pants. You’re so wet, warm and tight. The faces you make, the way you moan is making him salivate, make his cock throb and leak profusely in his pants. Your body jerks under his touch, and he feels excited, thrilled. He tentatively thrusts his fingers in and out of you, and the obscene wet noises it creates make him groan. But it isn’t what you were doing. You had your fingers buried inside of you, stimulating something. He knows that there is a sensitive spot hidden somewhere, he just needs to discover it.

Edward sinks his fingers inside of you and you wail. He’s filling you so good, stuffing your tight hole with his large fingers. You feel him curl his fingers, rotate them, caress your walls. He’s definitely looking for it , your so special spot, and he’s so close to it, you’re already panting in anticipation. 

When he does find it, your entire body jerks and tense, you moan loudly and beg him to keep doing what he’s doing. Edward’s face lights up, a genuine fire burning in his beautiful green eyes, a wide smile flashing on his face. Right now, he feels like the king of the world, he feels triumphant .

He keeps stimulating you, caressing your insides, rubbing your clit, and fuck it feels good, so good you could cry, overwhelmed with pleasure. Your voice breaks, moaning and yelling his name, and you swear you heard him chuckle, excited. And he is, excited. He always is, when he solves a riddle.

There is a familiar pressure building behind your navel, and you beg him to keep going, tell him that you are close, and Edward looks at your face with interested eyes. He wants to see you orgasm because of him, he wants to see all of you. His gaze pierces your mind, it feels encouraging, adoring, and you feel the wave crashes against your core, electrifying your whole body, your spine, your clit, and your walls clenching, spasming around Edward’s fingers, as your orgasm comes and makes you yell his name, over and over.

Edward slows down until he stops completely, delicately removing his fingers from you in a wet noise, looking at the puddle of sticky juices underneath you. Your cunt is flushed, lovingly swollen, and the view makes him salivate. His hands shake when he removes his shirt, and you extend a hand to caress his chest, his stomach, still exhausted from your orgasm. But Edward is excited, ecstatic, euphoric. Kissing your lips, your jaw, your neck, he undresses quickly, and you cannot help but chuckle at how eager he is right now.

When he removes his underwear, his fat cock bouncing on his stomach, glistening in precum, your heart is racing. Edward feels exposed for a moment, vulnerable and almost shy, but you brush your fingers against his bicep in a comforting manner, before sliding your hand between your two bodies, delicately grabbing his perfect cock. Edward hisses and twitches. You fist it tentatively, pump him a few times, but Edward looks like he’s already on the verge of his own orgasm, panting and gasping, so you figure you’ll take care of him another time.

Your other hand grabs his hip, as you pull him closer to you, guide his cock to your entrance. When the tip pokes at your entrance, making him moan, you release your hand and caress his thigh, encouraging him. Edward gets your hint, and looks at your eyes. He wants to see your face when he will penetrate you for the very first time. His hips move forward slowly, and the tip of his cock enters you. Your mouth hangs open, a soft moan escaping your lips, as Edward progresses inside of you. 

He pants heavily when he’s fully inside, and everything is so overwhelming. The warmth, the pressure, the tightness, the wetness. He gasps loudly, his breath is labored. He knows he won’t last, but it’s alright, his mind is already in the stars right now anyway. Meanwhile, you softly sob, feeling his length spreading you deliciously, filling your hole perfectly. He lowers his body, supporting himself on his forearms and kisses your lips. You adjust yourself, lifting your thighs slightly, allowing him to penetrate you deeper, and fuck it feels so good. You look so beautiful under him, your cheeks flushed and pupils dilated. Edward presses his forehead against yours and briefly rubs his nose against yours, closing his eyes. Feeling content, loved .

Then, his hips start rocking and he nearly dies. The way your cunt clenches around his cock makes him moan, his balls tighten, his stomach jerk, and you can’t help but sob at his overwhelming gentleness, his pace slow inside your still very sensitive core, spreading you so good. His shaft caresses your walls delicately, and his mind is blank, unable to process anything else, overwhelmed by this foreign feeling of pure bliss.

He tentatively thrusts faster and loudly curses, as you moan and dig your nails in the skin of his back. He’s already close, and he hates that he’s probably gonna cum in a minute, but it feels so good he doesn’t want to slow down. Instead, he decides to fully chase after his orgasm and now frantically thrusts inside of you. The bedroom is filled with vulgar noises of skin slapping against skin, wet friction, moans and grunts. 

Edward gasps and sees stars, his mind going blank as his stomach jerks, thrusting irregularly and erratically, until he cums in a loud groan of pleasure, being milked by your clenching walls. His whole body shakes then collapses against yours, exhausted.

You feel his cum dripping from your cunt, his cock still reasonably hard and buried inside of you. You also feel his frantic heartbeat against your chest, his labored breath next to your ear. You caress the back of his head, kiss his cheek tenderly. Edward melts some more under your touch. Once the blissful feeling calms down, he rolls over, laying on his side, and looks at you. There’s so much tenderness in your eyes, so much comfort, and he wishes you would always look at him this way.

You roll on your side, and there’s a quiet exchange between you two, as you rub your nose against his and smile at him. So much he doesn’t say but is heard, understood. He kisses your lips tenderly and closes his eyes, wrapping himself in a veil of happiness, eventually falling asleep next to you.

[nabibeans]

Save you

However, he soon meets Seonghwa, his brother’s Neighbor. Seonghwa wants to save Hongjoong from his past, but Hongjoong isn’t so sure he can be.

TW//: Blood, violence, drug usage (weed), underage drinking ( HJ is 18) , self harm scars, physical and verbal abuse mentioned in the past, sexual assault mentioned.

Chapter 1: new beginnings

Hongjoong was finally getting out of there. Out of the childhood home he’d been beaten and abused in. It felt surreal, that he’d finally be away from his mother and father; his mother who had done everything she could to kill him and failed every time, his father that forced him to strip naked and do unspeakable things. It had driven Hongjoong to the point of using drugs and alcohol to cope. Sneaking out late at night with his friends to drink his pain away, only to be stumbling home at 5 in the morning and vomiting every few minutes. Realistically he still smoked and drank, though Bumjoong would more than likely ask him to stop under his roof.

“Hey, you ready to go? I want to get you out before they come home.”

Hongjoong looked at his brother, Bumjoong was both a mixture of paranoid and angry at the moment; angry his parents had made his little brother’s life a living hell, paranoid they’d arrive home any moment to see the brothers fleeing.

“Yeah I am, trust me I want out as bad as you do. I can’t believe it’s finally happening.”

Hongjoong grabbed his bag, throwing it over his shoulder. The two brothers made their way to the car, leaving as fast as possible.

“I got you a new phone, mom and dad will probably shut yours off once they find out you’re gone. Sorry I couldn’t transfer your phone number like I promise.”

Hongjoong shook his head, looking down at the cracked iPhone XR in his hand. The screen was still readable, but it was clear it needed put out of its misery.

“It’s okay hyung, I’m sure my contacts will transfer with my iCloud. I’ll probably just toss this old thing anyway.”

Bumjoong smiled, ruffling his brothers hair as he drove.

“You wanted the pink one right? You’re lucky they had one left in stock when I went.”

Hongjoong nodded with a smile across his face, Bumjoong had promised him that as soon as he was out of his parents house he’d buy him the not so new iPhone 15; he had kept his word unlike his parents.

“Seriously!? You’re the best bro!”

The brothers spent the rest of the drive to Bumjoong’s apartment chatting about how things would go from now on. Hongjoong already had a job lined up he’d start in a week, he’d look into colleges with his scholarships he had, he’d also be closer to his online friends. Bumjoong suggested meeting them in person and hanging out while he gets settled. Arriving at the apartment Hongjoong’s jaw dropped, this place was nice; way nicer than he was used to.

“Holy shit- bro this is insane! You live here!?”

Bumjoong chuckled, ruffling Hongjoong’s long hair.

“I do, the receptionist is very kind. They’re trans like you.”

Hongjoong smiled at that, he’d transitioned in such an unsafe environment. Been forced to have sex with men just so his mother could keep calling him her daughter. Nausea bubbled up in his stomach that he quickly swallowed down. His asexuality had stemmed from that trauma, now sex disgusted him; he didn’t want any part in it.

“That makes me happy, though I’m mostly excited to have an actual bed to sleep on. And a proper shower, food.”

His life at his parent’s house had been rough. He’d be starved, forced to sleep on the floor or outside on the porch like a dog, he doesn’t even remember the last time he actually showered since graduating. Bumjoong laughed and nodded,

“How about you go shower, you do stink. I’ll have the movers bring your stuff up. It’s the third floor, door has 24 on it.”

Hongjoong nodded heading into the apartment complex. It was nice, far nicer than anything he’d ever had. The elevator dinged open , a few people walking out allowing Hongjoong to slip in. Pressing the button to the third floor he removed the jacket he’d been wearing. Dark red, pink, and white scars ran up his arms. A grim reminder of all the times he’d tried to harm himself to escape his parents torments, the times he’d been hospitalized for bleeding too much. That wasn’t going to happen anymore, he wouldn’t cut himself anymore. He was going to be clean. From cutting, drugs, alcohol. All of it.

The elevator opened, allowing the boy to walk to the apartment his brother had said and opened the door. It was a rather large apartment, the kitchen was spacious, the living room as well. He’d explore later, right now a warm shower was calling his name. Entering the bathroom Hongjoong eagerly turned on the water and stripped his dirty clothes, no amount of soap would be able to get the alcohol and weed smell out of them; he’d just toss them since Bumjoong bought him all new clothes. Stepping under the spray of the shower Hongjoong moaned in relief. The hot water washing weeks of dirt off his skin, even some old blood he hadn’t realized was there. It felt nice to finally have a shower, to get all the grime off his skin, finally be clean.

Once he finished in the shower Hongjoong looked at himself in the mirror. His tan skin now clean and glowing, his chest looked better too, the scars from his top surgery faded more than he’d originally thought.

“I actually look like…a person.”

He touched his face, there were a few pimples but nothing he couldn’t get rid of with his skin care products.

“Wow is that my little brother? What happened to that dirty little gremlin.”

Bumjoong was holding clean clothes for the younger, a smile on his face.

“I’m still a gremlin don’t worry. Just a clean one now. Fuck it feels amazing to actually be clean!”

Taking the clothes Hongjoong quickly began to get dressed, the clothes fit nicely; he would definitely be making the shirt into a crop top though. Once he was dressed he helped Bumjoong move in the rest of his stuff, once all the boxes were inside Bumjoong helped set up his new phone. Transferring all the data and ultimately deciding to get rid of the old one so Hongjoong would be safer and couldn’t be tracked.

“Okay, I have to go to work now. So the place is yours until midnight, you can order food with my debit card; don’t talk to strangers.”

Bumjoong ruffled the boys hair. Hongjoong nodded, already comfortable on the couch and wrapped up in a blanket. Since Bumjoong was a nurse he worked long hours, meaning Hongjoong would be alone more often than not.

“Okay, I’ll probably take a nap. Love you, see you later.”

Bumjoong kissed his brother’s cheek then left the apartment. The only sound being the air conditioning and the tv playing some drama Bumjoong had been watching earlier. It was nice, not having to worry about getting hit or assaulted. Hongjoong curled up on the couch, texting his friends in the group chat they had on discord.

Joongie💕: I’m finally out of my parent’s place and in Seoul. I’ll get to see you guys more now, this apartment is nice! I actually got to take a shower and eat proper food, have an actual drink. I’m gonna get used to this fast.

Youngie 🐈‍⬛: AHHHH IM SO EXCITED FOR YOU JOONG! You deserved this!

Putting his phone down Hongjoong curled up and drifted to sleep on the couch.

•

It was around 8pm when Hongjoong finally woke up, ordering food and changed into a cropped tank top and shorts to go to bed in after he ate. The apartment was now illuminated with led lights that turned on automatically, there were even some in Hongjoong’s bedroom that really made it feel cozy. A knock on the door came a few moments later, the small boy moved to open the door and grab his food. At the same time the neighbor opened theirs, for the same reason it seemed. The two made eye contact across the hall, Hongjoong’s cheeks heated up.

The man looking back at him looked to be a tiny bit older than him, maybe 19 or 20; long black hair was tied into a ponytail. He had peircings, an eyebrow and industrial. Hongjoong had them too, his ears, septum, and belly button. This guy, was exactly Hongjoong’s type.

“Oh hello! You must be Bumjoong’s little brother, I’m Seonghwa nice to meet you. I’m 20, I’ll be a freshman in college this August.”

The stranger, Seonghwa; held out his hand to Hongjoong who shook it.

“I’m Hongjoong, I’m 18. I’m going to college too, and I’m gay- I mean no not gay, actually I am gay but…aish!”

Hongjoong blushed while Seongwha laughed.

“I’m gay too, it’s okay. You’re very cute Hongjoong I hope I see you more. Do you have KakaoTalk?”

Hongjoong nodded, taking out his phone so they could exchange kakao IDs.

“I hope I get to see you more too Seongwha, sorry for being weird.”

Seonghwa shook his head, “I like weird. I hope you have a good night.”

Hongjoong watched as Seonghwa grabbed his food and entered the apartment across the hall, waving to the smaller boy as he closed the door. Grabbing his own food and walking to his bedroom Hongjoong immediately opened his chat logs on discord.

Joongie💕: cute boy alert! Really cute boy! And I totally fucked up and said I was gay and embarrassed myself! I have his KakaoTalk though! So I’m excited to get to know him.

Sitting on his bed Hongjoong began to eat his food while turning on an anime he’d been watching. This was the start of something better, especially if there was a cute boy only a door away.

[hungergamesheadcanons]

And So I Ran

*Lucy Gray's POV of Coriolanus losing his mind*

I was only supposed to be gathering katniss.

Sure it was a little early in the season for it, but unfortunately in District 12 we aren't blessed with a wide variety of plants. Plus neither Coryo nor myself were great hunters.

I left him there with the guns. I figured he'd make the best decision anyway - this sort of scenario was far from my forte. I'd gather some katniss, we'd eat tonight and I'd save some for the journey ahead, and then we'd sleep and continue moving in the morning.

But then I heard him.

He sounded angry, or insane, and my first thought was that he'd found something. Maybe it was the shawl I'd taken off - I'd hung it on a tree so that it wouldn't get snagged while I was on my hands and knees in the dirt. After all - katniss was a root plant, and that shawl was precious. I was about to yell out to him, to find him and tell him why the shawl was off, when I heard it.

Mockingjays. Gunshots.

I think my subconscious understood what happened before I did - that I wasn't safe, even though I loved him. I guess if the Hunger Games is good for anything, it's keeping you on your toes, as before I even knew it I was running away. I think the gunshots must have covered the noise I made, as he didn't seem to pursue me, despite the constant snapping on twigs beneath my feet and my stumbling around due to my shoes (while stylish, they weren't exactly made for this kind of terrain. I was a performer, after all, not a hunter).

By the time I was far enough away that I thought myself safe, I could hear him faintly in the distance. My name, coming out of his lips angrily, the occasional gunfire, before silence rang out.

I wanted to go back.

I also wanted to go far away.

I hid behind a large tree for what felt like hours. I was half expecting Coryo to come around the side of it - whether to kill me or kiss me I just didn't know. Similarly, I don't know if I was relieved or disappointed that he didn't come.

Maybe he thought he'd killed me. Maybe he thought I was long gone.

But I had to move forwards. I knew now that despite how pure and kind he had seemed, how gently he'd treated me in the Capitol and how generous he had been, he would not hesitate to kill me if he thought I was in his way.

I was a lovesick fool, and it had come back to bite me.

I had to eat a couple of the roots before moving on - despite the fact I hadn't eaten much during the Games, and had never had the most constant food supply, I was starving. Maybe it was the panic that had sucked all the energy out of me, but I wasn't sure.

All I knew was that I needed to get far away from 12 as soon as possible.

For all I knew, Coryo was heading back right now to tell the peacekeepers my plan. They could be out in the forest in droves searching for me - to execute me on the same tree poor Sejanus had died on.

So I packed away the roots I gathered, cutting a few more for the journey while I was here. My choices were to run, or throw myself into the lake and let nature take care of it.

That wasn't an option.

And so I ran.

[bbgoldfish]

hi i just wanted to say your fic made me so wildly happy holy shit it was one of the best things I've ever read and like. drove me insane in the best way possible?? I WAS GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET AT HOW GOOD IT WAS DSJKMSA

!!!!!! omg . 😭😭 thank you so much for reading it!!! and for going out of your way to send me an ask !!!!

i was genuinely hesitant on posting it at first because like. impostor syndrome and what the fuck ever but i’m glad i did in the end anyways!! and hearing from you (and anyone who leaves a comment really) makes me happy too!!! i’m glad that whatever johnshi my evil brain’s cooked up made you giggle just a little bit! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

thank you so much again!! <333

[notasapleasure]

Doctors season 10 run (2008) - Part 1/3

Warning! Long post...

We're here for Matt Brown, Joplin's third appearance on the long, long, long running series Doctors. He's in seven episodes, so fingers crossed he's got fun things to do!

Episode 8: Light Fingers, Loose Tongues

Lurking in a bar looking unshaven and moody! With a spectacular eye roll when his sexist acquaintance brings along a guy who's only drinking water...

"A top man, loyal as the day is long." And apparently reminds the sexist businessman of himself as a kid, though he still hasn't had any lines.

His boss is an absolute wrong-un doing a lot of Crime I am sure and I suspect dear Matt is there to do the leg-breaking his boss is so fond of joking about.

Oooh his boss is a cop-killer. Hopes of Joplin actually having something interesting to do in his run of episodes hmm....fading.

He did just get to mumble a line or two though! I'm rooting for Hired Muscle with a Heart who will dob his boss in because he fancies Jess the undercover barmaid or something.

Anyway. Pretty in leather, though the haircut's a bit nerdy. Just ignore the fact he's laughing at his boss's sexist jokes.

Uh oh is he onto Jill the undercover cop barmaid? Or is "Enjoy yer fag?" his idea of a chat-up line?

Hhhhhdhdgdgdhffff 🥵 smoulder smoulder

Undercover police lady bartender: "What's a nice lad like you doing hanging about with someone like him?"

Matt, sounding like language is a foreign concept: "I work for ‘im. So do you."

Undercover police lady bartender who’s decided she’s going to have to flirt her way out of this with the only attractive man at the table: "Well just make sure you don't pick up any of his bad habits..."

Episode 9: Walking on Sunshine

I wonder if there will be any actual doctors in this episode?

Ah Matt's sexist boss is called Jack, and also gets to have a few digs at 'the Lithuanians'. And Matt is on car-driving for the obnoxious business-school son duty.

Ooh, bb doesn't like drugs and he doesn't like Jack's spoilt son Callum and he doesn't like the idea of giving the spoilt son a fancy car. It's about respect (for the car).

Apologies that I can't report much on this episode it features some amateur comic and I had to mute all his scenes because he drove me insane. Stand up comedy plus toddlers plus the miserable self-pitying doctor eurghh.

Ooh no, Matt's a good judge of character even among the criminal underworld - Jack's son is unhinged in a very unsubtle way. Luckily, Matt is good at first aid. Man with bloodied face lying behind the bins? "Bad."

He was quite sweet and gentle getting the injured guy up and is now on 'subtly drop off the broken-nosed drug dealer at A&E duty'.

I almost gave up at the end of this because y i k e s was it dull but THEN the doctor that was annoying me got. Literally flattened by a massive truck and it was the funniest thing I've seen in ages. Solid ten-minute gut-busting laugh. On that endorphin high I will continue in the knowledge that the annoying doctor won't be back!

Episode 12: Hunger Strike

The university is selling out to ASDA (well, Walmart. Well "Novo-Mart") because it's broke. A student is on hunger strike. "Oh go and have some breakfast!" Sick burn, Treasurer.

Matt's still around, but he's lost the jacket. Joplin aficionados: I am trying to get a good look at the arm that has a scar in Death in Paradise.

Inconclusive. More research needed.

Damn he has a hoodie on now. And continues to be suspicious/vaguely threatening/maybe creeping on Jill the undercover bartender. Naughty naughty, hiding guns.

Took me an age to get these screenshots, it was like the director told him to chew his gum as obnoxiously as possible crol

Episode 14: Wooden Heart

Whatever happened in episode 13 at the bar I suppose I'll just have to figure out as best I can - Matt wasn't involved so I don't care! Basically, Jack is manipulative and controlling, his son is a psycho, and Jill the undercover policewoman had to pretend she was seeing the solicitor who knows who she is.

Boo, hiss, Jack is contemplating using a baby and its pram to smuggle Bad Things! Matt isn't present.

This is so weird. The dentist is Elvis.

Oh HAI Matt! Costumes continue to become fluffier. More greys than blacks. Does it mean anything? He's openly snarking at the boss' psycho son and the teen mum who wants work running drugs in her pram...

"She's ok...if you're into gym slips."

"Might let you have a little go in her buggy an' all."

Well at least he gets to be a little bitch :')

Ohhhhhhh my god is he gonna make his move on the undercover copper bar lady? SUCH a creep but still. Fucking would in a heartbeat.

He did not make a move :’) just Loomed.

Oh "don't you do anything but skulk?" but he's so good at it...

Those were like...the most lines he's had in this? Initiative and all that! Still menacing as fuck in a quiet way, still unclear if he's hitting on Jill, looking out for her, or threatening her.

"If I were you, I'd worry about your own back..."

---

TBC: This post is already way too long and the last four episodes he’s in (16, 17, 18, 19) are a run, so presumably link together more closely. I’ll try to do a part 2 tomorrow, for anyone who, like me, is simply dying to know what side Matt’s going to be on, and just how bonkers the denouement of this whole thing is going to be :))

[saberdeity]

𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 》 𝐏𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐨 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐫

pairings - Pablo Schreiber x fem!reader

summary - after being away too long, you need some attention from your handsome fiancé

warnings - 18+, mature themes, strong language, major fluff

a/n - ever since watching the halo series I have been obsessed with Pablo, I mean how can you not be?! this man is beautiful and adorable and ahhh I cannot even explain! anyway we need more works for this guy!! so I decided to at least try. plus this gif of him makes me want to sit on his lap, touch his chest and never ever leave. I hope you guys like it all feedback is welcome and appreciated 💕

Pablo was a hopeless romantic, he wanted to make you smile in every possible way he could. You were living the dream with him, everything about him was perfect and everyone you talked to always moaned about not still being in the honeymoon phase but 3 years in and you could safely say you still were with him.

Since he was shooting Halo, he had been in many different countries which required a lot of time and a lot travelling meaning during these months he was away from home. You knew this would happen when you first got together with him and three years on it still never gets any easier. He'd been away for almost 4 months and to say you missed him was an understatement.

You were counting down the hours from when he'd told you he was boarding the plane. You wanted to make sure everything was perfect for when he arrived home so you cooked his favourite meal, stocked the fridge and pantry with all of his favourite snacks and foods also making sure the house was entirely clean. By the time you had finished, he was due back any minute and the excitement was almost too much to bare at this point. When you heard the car pull up you did everything you could not to burst out of the front door and run into his arms which you usually would have done but you knew he would be so tired. Soon enough he came through the door looking as perfect as ever.

"baby?" he called out, his voice laced with relief yet tiredness "I'm home" He adds before you come running around the corner.

"You're home!" you whisper shout excitedly, jogging over to him and wrapping your arms around him so tight you surprised yourself with the amount of strength you had.

He couldn't help but chuckle at your reaction as he wrapped his arms around you also quickly dropping his bags to the floor. From the sheer size difference you only being 5"6 and Pablo standing at 6'4 you were just about managing to reach him standing on your tip-toes but Pablo had the best solution. His broad arms wrapped around your waist before he effortlessly lifted you into his embrace, your legs wrapping around his waste and connecting around his back automatically.

"I've missed you so much my love" you whispered softly, burying your head into the crook of his neck, peppering soft kisses to any part of the skin there that you could reach.

"I've missed you more bubba" He smiles, pressing the softest kiss to your temple.

You both stayed like this for a while, just enjoying one another embrace and company before things began turning back to normal. Whilst you finished up dinner, Pablo began to unpack his bags and get cleaned up. The day of travelling had taken its toll on him so a much needed nap was taken.

You felt selfish feeling the need for his attention especially with how hard he's been working he deserved some down time but you couldn't help but need him, crave him all the time. His smell drove you insane, the musky yet minty fragrance ignited the flame inside you like a match to gasoline and you soon began to feel the tingle in between your legs get greater and greater. The tingle grew even more when you noticed him slouched on the couch with his tight white t-shirt and his favourite sweatpants which he knew drove you crazy.

You stood admiring from the doorway, your index finger in between your lips as you drooled at the sight in front of you. Your friends always complained about their boyfriends playing video games but when yours looked so good doing it, there was nothing to complain about. Pablo noticed after a while of your staring.

"C'mere beautiful" he signals, a cheeky smile plastering across his face as you made your way over.

You smirked, throwing your legs over his and straddling his hips, sitting on the rightful throne of his thighs. Your hands slowly moved from his abdomen and over his chest, gently pressing at the toned muscles beneath his shirt. You couldn't help the movement of your hips as his huge hands placed themselves firmly on your hips. You slowly leant over, pressing your chest against his before connecting your lips to his. The kiss was slow and passionate at the start before quickly turning into pure desperation. You could feel his appendage pressing against your lower abdomen as a smirk appeared on your lips.

"feels like somebody else missed me too" you smirked wiggling your hips a little as he chuckled.

[madneedshelp]

Miss You- Danny Wagner x F!Reader

Summary: Between all the wedding preparations, you and your fiancé have barely had time to spend with each other. In all the chaos, the two of you sneak away to be together.

Includes: Just some Danny fluff because this man has seemed so husband lately, also some minor illusions to sex

"Mom, I don't really care who is in charge of getting the key to unlock the venue. You can do it or Emily can, either way it's fine," You let out a sigh and rubbed your temples.

Your mother and sister had been arguing about who was the best person to be in charge of that task for the past ten minutes and you had to admit that it was driving you insane. They had been arguing about everything all day long and you'd gotten a magnificent headache. While they were being incredibly helpful, they were also incredibly annoying.

In less than a week, you were marrying the love of your life. The past months of wedding planning had flown by. As odd as it seemed, the closer you got to the day you and Danny would start your life together, the less time you spent with each other.

“Well honey, this is your big day and it has to be perfect, so who do you want to do it?” Your mom gives you a pressuring look.

“Jesus, Mom, you might as well tell her that you think you have to do it because I’ll mess it up!” Your sister throws up her hands with a shout.

In that moment, you swear you must look like an exaggerated cartoon character with a twitchy eye. They just wouldn’t stop.

The whole reason for their fighting was the wedding. The wedding was about you and Danny. You loved Danny so much, but now there was all this headache surrounding the wedding. All this chaos and barely any time spent with him.

Before this week, Danny and the guys had still been working some pretty long hours. They had a new album in the works, so that meant a lot of their time was spent in the studio. Even though they weren’t touring, the band kept Danny pretty busy and therefore away from you. Granted you had to work anyway, but you still missed him.

You and Danny had agreed you wanted a small, casual wedding. Keeping things small would make it easier to keep away press, and it would mean less elaborate plans you both would have to manage. Unfortunately, your families had still managed to make the small wedding a complicated affair.

“Okay, you two work this out. I’m going to get some water.” You abruptly stood and excused yourself from the room.

As soon as you made it into the hallway, you pulled out your phone to text Danny.

You: Where are you right now?

Almost instantly, he started typing.

Danny: Just leaving the studio, was going to bring you some coffee. Why? Need something?

A small smile spread across your face.

You: Take the coffee to our place. I’m at Mom’s, but I’ll be there soon. Love you.

Danny answered with a quick “I love you, too” and you pocketed your phone. With a quick glance in the direction of the living room, you decided it was best to go ahead and sneak out without saying anything. They definitely wouldn’t let you leave without getting your opinion on at least ten more things.

You found yourself giddy with excitement as you drove to the apartment you shared with Danny. Between the work, planning, and Bachelor and Bachelorette parties, you hadn’t spent much alone time together lately.

When you pulled in, you were delighted to see Danny was already there. You jogged up the stairs and unlocked the door as quick as possible.

“Babe, is that you?” The familiar, male voice you loved so much called to you from the living room. “I got your usual, hope that’s alright.”

You grinned and pulled off your shoes. “Yep, it’s me. And that’s perfect, honey, thank you.”

Danny was sitting in his unassigned assigned spot on the couch, two coffees sat before him on the table. He gave you the sweetest grin, and your heart melted. This was worth all the fuss from your parents and sister.

You flopped down on the couch beside him and snuggled into his side. You felt his hand come up to rub slow circles on your back as you encircled his waist with your arms.

“Everything alright?” He asked quietly.

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s just my mom. And Emily. You know how they are. Besides, I just missed you.”

He pressed a kiss to your head. “I’m sorry, honey. I wish they would calm down a little, even though they mean well.”

As if on queue, your phone started buzzing. You let out a groan.

“That her?” He chuckled.

“Yep.” You let out a sigh as you read the messages on your phone.

He watched you scroll through the long list she’d recently left you. “Weren’t you just with her? Did she forget something?”

You gave him a sheepish grin as you typed out a response to her many variations of “where are you” in hopes that she might let you be. “I may or may not have snuck over here when I told her I was getting a drink.”

Danny went quiet and then burst out laughing.

“Hey, it’s not that funny,” You chuckled, sitting up and taking a sip of your coffee.

He shook his head, laughter dying down. “No, no, it’s not that. Well, it is funny, but it’s funnier because I snuck over here too.”

“Shut up.” You smacked his arm lightly.

“I’m serious! I love the guys, but they’ve been a lot lately too. On the trip last weekend, I was the most sober of them all, and it was literally my bachelor party. And, after babysitting their drunk asses all weekend, they’ve been so damn picky with the album and they won’t stop fighting with each other.”

“So we both snuck out?” You grin up at him.

“Appears we did,” He returns your smile.

You let out a dreamy sigh. “It’s just like our teenage years again. Never thought I’d have to sneak out to see you once we moved in together, Daniel Wagner.”

“Really brings me back to the good old days, don’t you think?”

You thought for a moment. “I don’t know, I think I prefer now to back then. At least we have a whole place to ourselves now. And we’re not limited to primarily car sex,” You shot him a knowing smirk.

Danny threw his head back in a laugh. “Not that I minded the car sex, but you do have a good point about having the whole place to ourselves…”

“That is a good point. Besides, I’ve really missed you lately, babe. What do you say we make up for some lost time?” You lean forward and press a kiss to his lips, and then trail them down his neck.

“Sounds like a great plan to me,” He grins.

And with the rest of the evening, you both find yourselves happier and missing each other a little less.

[sweeterthanthis]

Your Filthy Heart

Part Three: The Pure and The Poison

Your Filthy Heart Masterlist

Thank you to @ozarkthedog for reading this through for me and to @msmarvelwrites for the support and some epic dirty talk suggestions!

Summary: It’s time to give Daddy a taste of his own medicine by bringing your boyfriend, Peter Parker, home for dinner.

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Peter Parker x Female Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy/stepdad kink, infidelity, vaginal sex, dirty talk, derogatory language, a touch of face slapping, cum play(?). 18+.

 Word Count: 3.5k

“I’m nervous, like really nervous. Is my tie straight?” 

There was a part of you that felt guilty for dragging Peter into your shit, truly. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying his affections. 

He was handsome, a strong jawline, kind eyes, a boy next door kinda attitude. Peter was everything that Bucky wasn’t, and maybe a little part of you made the conscious decision to start dating him because he was so different.

You knew you were pushing your luck, but when the thought occurred to invite him home for dinner, your mouth engaged before your brain and you’d already asked. 

“It’s just dinner, Pete. You didn’t need to wear a tie at all.” You couldn’t help but smile at him as he fixed his hair in the rear mirror, but the pit of dread in your stomach was only growing more by the second. “Come on, Mom’s probably bouncing up and down in anticipation.”

“Your Stepdad’s gonna be home soon right? Fuck, I wanna make a good impression.” 

Placing a hand on his thigh, muscular and firm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze. He really was adorable, an underlying sexiness about him because he was so concerned with being the most decent guy he could be. And he didn’t deserve a single second of the torture you were about to put him through. 

Was that going to stop you? Absolutely not. 

You knew your mother would be too high on the buzz that you’d finally met a guy you’d deemed important enough to bring home for dinner. She wouldn’t notice the impending tension, of that you were sure. 

Stepping out of Peter’s car, your tummy flipping at the thought of Bucky coming home to find his spot in the garage taken, you readjusted your skirt and motioned at Peter to get out of the car with a roll of your eyes and a nod of your head. 

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He muttered, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he’d bought for your Mom in the back seat. 

Grabbing his hand, you tugged him towards the door connecting the house to your garage, you made your way to the kitchen -- the scent of pot roast, of course, filling the air and the sounds of gentle piano music playing softly in the background. 

Your Mom really had gone the whole hog to make a good impression, and you couldn’t blame her. She had no idea you were screwing her husband, feelings of possessiveness and bitterness growing with each passing day. 

She loved Peter. That much was very clear from the second she’d been introduced to him.  

You feigned interest as she sat across from him on the plush, cream sofa; asking him a thousand questions and not allowing him the airtime to answer a single one before she’d thought of another. 

But all you could think of was him. The look on his face when he saw Peter sitting next to you on the couch, the hand that was currently resting loosely on your knee, your Mother’s beaming smile as she informed him that we had a dinner guest. 

You revelled in the power you held — the power to drive him insane with jealousy. 

You zoned out as you helped your Mother set the table, the sound of her voice muffled in your ears when you heard the low rumble of a car engine pull up on the driveway; blood instantly pounding in your ears. 

“Oh, that’ll be James.” Your mother gushed, clasping her hands together and straightening out the cutlery on the way back to the kitchen. 

James. 

She always did like to abandon the nickname when she was trying to impress. You’d heard the name ring out in the night air on more than one occasion that week. And the thought made you sick. 

You held no claim over him. Not really. But that didn’t stop the rage from bubbling in your belly each and every time. 

“Hey, you okay? You look as nervous as I feel.” 

Peters hand resting on your lower back, his soft eyes looking down on you with gentle concern, you forced yourself to smile and nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. He can just be a little,” you paused, wringing your fingers together in front of you, “intense.” 

He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side to give your body a reassuring squeeze — guilt thumping through your veins as you cursed yourself for dragging him into the mess you’d found yourself in. 

“Anyone wanna tell me who’s car is in my spot?” 

The sound of his voice, laced with irritation and curiosity, had your heart beating rapidly in your chest; the reality of what you’d done setting in as his footsteps drew nearer. 

“Hey, it’ll be fine. I’ll make a good impression, I promise.” 

Peter was too good for you, of that much you were certain. But you forced a smile anyway, leaning up on your tiptoes to meet his waiting kiss. 

At the worst possible moment. 

“What do we have here?” 

Exhaling a shaky breath, you composed yourself, opening your eyes to meet his fiery stare. There he stood in the living room doorway, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, black button up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the way the veins in his hands flexed. 

Before you could speak, Peter stepped forward; holding his own hand out for Bucky to shake. 

“Mr Barnes, Sir, I’m Peter Parker. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

All you could do was watch as Peter’s hand hung in the air, Bucky with his hands on his hips, leaning back on his heels slightly. The tension was evident, yet only you and he knew why — the weight of your entanglement heavy in the air. 

“Finally, huh?” 

Bucky caught your anxiety-ridden stare over Peter’s shoulder, chewing on the inside of his cheek; brow furrowed as he blew out a heavy breath through his nostrils. 

“Nice to meet you, Peter. I didn’t realise we’d be having a guest for dinner.” Bucky stepped forward then, forcing a smile and shaking Peter’s hand firmly with one hand, and planting the other firmly on his shoulder. “Would’ve come home earlier, but then nobody tells me anything in this house.” 

The intent to agitate Bucky was clearly paying off, but you never anticipated the way it would make you feel — stomach churning and headache inducing. 

With Peter in the room and your Mother hovering in the next room, you knew you were safe. Yet the thought of what he might do later that night after your Mother had passed out from necking too much Chardonnay had your tummy fluttering. 

“C’mon, Pete.” Bucky threw a smirk in your direction, throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulder and guiding him towards the kitchen. “Let’s go get a beer and leave the ladies to it, huh?”

Your mouth hung open in astonishment and your feet planted to the floor, all you could do was watch as your lover took your boyfriend aside for what you could only assume would be a desperately uncomfortable conversation. 

As you helped your Mother to prepare dinner, absentmindedly chopping tomatoes for the salad, you kept one eye on Bucky who was already sitting at the dining table across from a flustered Peter — and mentally kicked yourself for putting yourself in such a stressful situation. 

You tried not to look at him as you walked over to the table, salad bowl heavy in your trembling hands.

Walking around the back of his chair, you did your best to flash Peter a reassuring smile, his eyes flitting from yours to Bucky’s while he tried to keep his attention on the conversation. 

As you leant over to put the salad bowl on the table, a discreet, firm squeeze to your ass made you jump; his fingers digging into your flesh in not so subtle warning. 

“Oh!”

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, shooting a concerned look in your direction. 

Breathing a short sigh of relief when his hand withdrew, you straightened yourself out and walked around to your Boyfriends seat; blood hot with frustration at the way Bucky had put his hands on you in such a fragile situation. 

Suddenly, you simply didn’t give a fuck. 

How dare he try to lay a claim on you after everything you’d had to deal with; having to watch every day while he played at happy marriages with your mother. 

“I’m fine, Babe.” You leant down then, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek and shooting Bucky a warning stare. “I’m gonna go wash up for dinner, okay? Be right back.” 

Your anxiety was slowly morphing into vitriol, your hips swaying as you marched past your Stepfather’s unamused gaze. 

Fuck him. 

You washed your hands in the bathroom, gearing yourself up for what was sure to be a very awkward dinner — checking your makeup in the mirror, and fixing your hair. 

He’d riled you up, and now you had a point to prove. And you had every intention of doing so, one way or another. 

Making your way out of the bathroom, you straightened out your pleated skirt - the one you knew drove Bucky crazy - walking down the hallway with a confidence that you’d seemingly plucked out of nowhere. 

“What the-” 

One strong arm wrapped around your midsection, pulling your back tight against a broad chest -- and you needed no clue as to whom it belonged to. 

He yanked you through the door to the garage, shoving you forwards a little as the door clicked shut and the lock twisted. 

Everything inside you told you to give him a piece of your mind, spinning on your heel, your cheeks hot with disbelief. 

But as he stepped towards you, his eyes trained on your shaking form, you felt warmth flood your groin and you were putty once again. You hated how easily he reduced you to a desperate mess of a girl. Truly, you did. 

The fact remained, your Boyfriend was the other side of the wall and your Mother was floating around the house fussing like a woman possessed. 

“How dare—”

Bucky’s hand gripped your throat in warning, wedding ring digging against the supple flesh of your neck - the fire in his beautiful eyes causing your pussy to clench around nothing.

Shoved up against the passenger side of Peter’s car, you lifted your chin in defiance, a slight smirk gracing your glossy lips as you soaked in his fury. 

“You tryna piss Daddy off, Princess? ‘Cause you’re doin’ a real good job.” 

Your fingers dragged up your bare thighs, lifting your skirt up higher, his thigh pressed firmly against your lace covered cunt. 

“What’sa matter, Daddy? You jealous?” The low growl that emitted from his throat made you shudder, his breath warming your face as he tilted your chin up roughly with his fingers. “You not enjoying getting a taste of your own medicine, Daddy? Is that it?”

“You fuck that kid? Huh?” The hand around your throat squeezed, thumb pushing against your pulse point, his lips inches from yours. “You better answer me or I swear to fuckin’ God, girl...”

One hand palming at the throbbing erection in his trousers, the other gripping his own as it shook against your throat, you smiled. And he looked like he wanted to fucking murder you. 

“So what if I did? Seems fair to me. At least you don’t have to listen to me screaming his name. And Daddy, he makes me scream.” 

You ignored the fear bubbling in your chest, your bratty mouth unable to stop itself from running merry hell. 

“He’s so big, Daddy. Stretches me out so good.” Bucky pulled you towards him then, teeth clenched and jaw ticking, on the edge of losing every bit of control. And you just couldn’t help yourself. “You should see it.”

The dark chuckle that fell from his lips held no humor, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek and his head cocked to the side. 

“Is that what this is, Princess? Fuck, that jealousy’s just eatin’ you up, huh? Poor baby…” 

Your confidence waned for a moment, whimpering pathetically as his thumb traced your trembling jaw. You couldn’t stop yourself, hips winding down against his thick thigh, a twinkle in his eye as he watched you with a faux pout etched on his lips. 

“If you weren’t so fuckin’ cute, it’d be pathetic. Lookit you; grindin’ down on Daddy’s leg like a bitch in heat. What would Peter say, hmm?”  

Shame swam deep in your gut, but it was nothing compared to the warmth spreading between your legs, the damp patch on your panties staining the material of his suit pants.

“Daddy—” 

His fingers nestled between your lips, pressing down on your tongue as they slid down your throat - gag reflex kicking in when the tips of his fingers found your tonsils. 

“Suck.” 

You did as he asked, eyes boring into his as he thrust his fingers back and forth between your lips, garbled moans vibrating in your throat, spit coating the platinum band on his ring finger. 

“Why do I always gotta remind you who you belong to, huh?” You couldn’t answer, mouth stuffed full, tears pooling in your eyes, and spittle dripping from the corners of your mouth. “You think I was just gonna make nice with your little boyfriend in there? Bet he doesn’t know what a dirty little cockslut you really are does he?” 

A sharp tap to your cheek, spit slick against your skin, had you quivering. Yet your hands found the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly and yanking him down towards you. Your lips crashed against his then, a satisfied grunt vibrating against your mouth, one hand gripping your ass while the other dove between your legs. 

Bucky held you tight against his chest, fingers dipping beneath the gusset of your panties and swiping through your sloppy folds as he walked you clumsily round to the hood of Peter’s car - lifting you effortlessly and setting you down, cool metal causing you to shudder from the chill. 

You watched as he yanked your panties down your legs, your heart pounding at the thought of your Mother and your Boyfriend next door, waiting for you to return.

“I can’t trust you to be a good girl, can I? Can’t trust you to keep those fuckin’ legs shut.” 

“Daddy, I-” 

“You’re gonna shut your fuckin’ mouth and take it, you got that Princess?” 

Before you could open your mouth to answer, he’d balled your damp panties in his fist and forced them between your lips — teeth clenching down onto the salty-sweet lace. 

It was humiliating, degrading; but when was it not? You craved it, the way he treated you. That feeling of being owned, completely surrendering yourself to another person. He made you need that.  

“Look at that, always so wet for Daddy.” 

His palms splayed out against the flesh of your thighs, he pushed them apart, spreading you open and putting you on display just for him. 

Your heart was racing, the thrill of being caught at any moment thumping adrenaline through your veins. He could sense it, lips twitching into a satisfied smirk as he watched your eyes flit frantically back and forth between him and the door. 

“D’you have any idea how much I wanna drag you back in there and fuck you on that table. Make them both watch, show them that you’re mine?”

Your moans muffled by the material stuffed between your teeth, two thick fingers stretching out your cunt as he unbuckled his pants — you shook your head. 

You knew you had an effect on him, you knew he couldn’t stop himself from touching you, from creeping into your room late at night. But the way he looked at you now, the burning intensity in his eyes; it shook you to your core. 

“If I had the time Princess, I’d eat that slutty little pussy right here. Make you gush all over Petey Boy’s car. He make you come as hard as Daddy does?” 

Frantically, you shook your head from side to side. Peter had never even so much as grabbed your ass, but you’d riled Bucky up to the point of insanity. A man on a mission to prove just who you belonged to. 

“No? You've sure changed your tune.” 

You watched as he pumped his thick cock in his palm, the tip of him nudging against your clit, your pussy twitching. 

“Daddy’s gonna fuck the attitude right outta you, so stay quiet and keep those legs open for me.” 

Your arms hooked beneath your knees, thighs spread wide, you barely had time to brace yourself before his cock split you open inch by inch. 

You’d expected him to rut into you with excruciating force, to take you roughly. So when he thrust into you with slow, patient strokes; you could do nothing to hide the curiosity on your face. 

“I know you know who fucks you the best. You just love riling Daddy up, don’t you? Get so - fuck - goddamn jealous of Mommy.” 

Your head lulled back as his dick dragged against the throbbing walls of your cunt, his thumb finding your clit while he caressed your breasts with his free hand. 

It was too much, too much tenderness, too good. 

You hated yourself for wanting it. The new sensation of his knuckles softly grazing the hollow of your throat as he undulated his hips against your pelvis, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know existed. 

“You know what you do to me, Baby? Look at me.” 

Baby. 

Bucky leant forward then, elbows either side of your head on the hood, balls deep inside you as he ground his hips into yours at a torturously slow pace. 

“I got you all spread open wide for me, and my fuckin’ wife is right next door. She could walk in here right now and fuck, I still wouldn’t stop. You know how fucked up that is?” 

It was nonsense, the broken words falling from your panty stuffed mouth, heat rising in your belly when he pulled out completely and slid on home once again. 

He fit you perfectly; there was no doubt about it. The way your cunt wrapped around his dick, it was fucking sinful how perfect it felt. Sparks of pleasure shooting through your core as he rubbed tiny, delicate circles over your swollen clit. 

“Tell me how much you want me.” Bucky ripped the panties from your mouth, shoving them in his pocket as you licked your dried out lips. “Need’ta hear you say it. Come on, Princess.” 

You’d never seen it before, the needy side of him, the way he practically whimpered when your pussy clenched around his girth, his hand gently squeezing your thigh while the other tentatively worked your sensitive nub. 

You tried to speak, tried to find the words he so desperately needed to hear — mouth hanging open in sheer confusion. 

“You’re not coming until you tell me, and we’ve been gone a while…” 

He halted inside you, only the tip of him nestled between your pussy lips, thumb hovering over your clit and a soft, yet entirely serious look gracing his gorgeous face. 

“I—I want you, Daddy.” You yielded, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Your hand flew to your mouth, muffling the yelp as he slammed back into you in one brutal motion — slowly withdrawing and circling your clit with the tip of his dick. 

“Again.”

“I want you, Daddy.” Insistent this time, no tremble in your voice, hips winding down towards his length, eager to have him back where he belonged. “Only want you, Daddy.” 

There was no hint of a lie in your tone, and as he fucked you - possessive and hungry - you wondered how any other man could ever match him. 

Sprawled out on the hood of Peter’s car, legs hooked over Bucky’s shoulders, you begged and panted; nearing closer and closer to sweet release. 

“You do, don’t you? You belong to me, Princess. Daddy’s all the man - shit - you need.” 

Garbled words choked in your throat, the breath punched from your lungs when he pinched your clit roughly with his fingertips, stars dancing behind your eyelids as pleasure twisted in your abdomen, limbs shaking and numb. 

Pathetic whispers of daddy, daddy, daddy had him slamming into you, unforgiving and merciless while he chased his own orgasm. 

“Fuck lookit you, fallin’ apart on poor Parker’s car, cunt full’a Daddy. Wanna fill you up so bad Princess, but I’ve got a better idea.”

You felt the hollow emptiness of his withdrawal, hazy eyes flickering open to catch sight of him; teeth bared, fist furiously pumping his cock, white, hot spurts of come smattering against the already sopping flesh of your swollen, fucked-out pussy lips. 

“Bucky! Darling, where are you?”

You panicked, hopping down off the hood and scrambling to push your skirt back down your aching thighs. 

“Fuck, gimme my underwear.” You hissed, holding out your hand as you bounced on your heels. 

“Nuh uh, Princess. You’re gonna sit there all night next to Peter, who seems like a real nice kid by the way, with my come all over you. Be real hard to forget who’s little cockwhore you are then, won’t it?”

You watched, dumb struck as he casually tucked himself back into his pants, swiping the wine bottle from the counter and making his way to the door. 

“Hurry now, we’ve kept our guest waiting long enough don’t you think?” 

With a wink and a sardonic smirk, Bucky disappeared through the door, your Mom’s soft laughter ringing in your ears through the wood. 

Dinner was surprisingly a lot less awkward than you expected, aside from the jabs from Bucky thrown in your direction every now and again. But you’d much rather he targeted you than Peter. 

Sitting with Bucky’s come smothered between your thighs made the guilt in your gut throb every time Peter’s soft fingers found the bare flesh of your knee beneath the table. 

No matter how much water you chugged, your mouth was dry throughout, your instincts driving you to get through the meal without choking and needing to excuse yourself.

As the evening drew to a close, your Mother tipsy and insisting that Peter come back to visit again the following week, you couldn’t wait to get him out of there and wipe away the mess from between your legs. 

“Parker, you ever play golf?” Bucky asked as Peter pulled on his jacket. 

You couldn’t believe the audacity of him, shame and fury eating at you as he played the perfect, welcoming parent.

“Uh, a little from time to time.” He answered, looking down at you with a proud smile as he sensed an invitation coming. It killed you, the sweetness on his features. You didn’t deserve an ounce of it. 

“I’ll get your address from our girl, huh? Pick you up Saturday, say, just after lunch?” 

Our girl. 

It made you cringe, chewing on your bottom lip as you took hold of Peter’s hand and led him to the garage where you’d been full of your Stepdad’s cock just an hour earlier. 

“Yes, that’d be great Mr Barnes. Thank you!” 

“Please, call me Bucky.” 

You couldn’t stand it any longer, making your way to the garage while Peter trailed behind you saying his goodbye’s.

He kissed you softly, and it made you want to weep—the way his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs stroking against the corners of your mouth. When he pulled away, the look of adoration on his face had your heart skipping a beat. 

This was what you needed.

This relationship was healthy. Safe. Right. 

So why did it feel so wrong? 

What you had with Bucky could never go anywhere, would never progress to more than secretive fucks and risky situations. 

“Your Stepdad seems like a decent guy, but he’s really hard on you huh?” 

“You have no idea.”