#undying fame

[terriblygrimm]

is everyone over zen.daya yet like can we stop pretending shes relevant or a good actress. its cringe and it’s giving ta.ylor sw.ift vibes

[infictionalwonderland]

Hey, I hope you’re having a good day! I had an idea, Marvel cast flirting with y/n for x minutes?

. . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT!

Coming home from an extremely long and stressful day/week was unfortunately something very familiar to you—so familiar that you and your best friend (your not famous best friend who was your pilar through all the chaos fame brought) had created a little routine; she’d send you various videos and links to movies and online books she knew would relax and amuse you.

So, cuddled up in your bed with your pyjamas and your star lights on (a true child at heart, always) you opened up your chats with them and eagerly swiped to see that they’d sent.

‘Marvel Cast Flirting with Y/N Y/L/N For 10 Minutes Straight!’ was the video for tonight.

Immediately you cackled to yourself, hurriedly sending your best friend thanks in the form of ironic emojis and frantic proclamations of undying love, before loading up the (true to prior word) ten minute long video.

Surely this was an exaggeration.

The video began, large letters in a cute font appearing on the dark screen ‘the marvel cast all being in love flirting with y/n for ten minutes’. The quick ‘AS THEY SHOULD’ before the clips started playing made you giggle to yourself.

The first clip was from some years back, you were pretty sure this was a premiere for The Avengers, given how you looked and the quality—you were standing opposite on interview, smile on your face and dressed in a pretty outfit the same colour of your character’s aesthetic.

“How do you feel about your costume?”

Before you could even answer the interviews question, Scarlett intercepted your interview—hair in a short red bob and a smirking grin at her lips as she wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Well I know how we all feel about this ladies costume, it’s a beautiful piece that just makes the women wearing all the more beautiful. If that’s even possible.”

The edit quickly gave Scarlett beating heart eyes for you as she didn’t tear her eyes away from you for a second—making present time you laugh.

With that she kissed your cheek, leaving a red mark of her lipstick and walked away, dramatically winking in your direction.

The second clip was a blooper, from .. Captain America: Civil War, you thought. You were on Sebastian’s shoulders, thighs locked over his head—in character, as your character and his were mid fight.

He stumbled back over a table accidentally and you let out a startled yelp, hands flying to steady yourself in his long hair and one of his landing on your arse cheek to steady you as he steadied himself with the other.

“Is it bad that I’m loving this?”

“SEBA—“

“Cut!”

The third clip was you and Lizzie (Elizabeth Olsen) reacting fan tweets; Lizzie unrolled the piece of paper, her eyes lighting up as she giggled with a little smirk.

“Elizabeth. .” You wearily trailed off, looking at your friend.

“Sorry, sorry. Okay! This tweet says if i could just pretty BEEP please with the juiciest most mouthwatering cherry on top get a not kid friendly scene of Wanda and (Your Character) I could die peacefully, my wish fulfilled. I implore you marvel, listen to your dying fan.”

“That tweet had over fifty thousand likes as well.” A feminine voice added in from behind the camera, laughter in her tone.

You and Lizzie turned to each other at the same time, grinning.

“I mean the fan is dying babe. .”

“Right? We should totally make this happen, like, totally.” She gave you a cheeky once over, eyes appreciating all of you. “Because it was the fans wish, not mine, duh.” Lizzie added.

“Mhm.” You hummed with a smirk.

The fourth clip was a evidently some sort of ‘guess the body part’ game: a photo of what you were pretty sure was your bottom half was the picture currently used for guessing, in the picture you were leaned over in a pair of yoga pants and in your personal opinion, you looked good. Well, your arse looked good (amazing, otherworldly—you humbly added)

Lizzie was the first person to answer, the video showing each persons turn one by one and immediately she said, “that’s my girl. Y/N.” Then giggling she added, “now get my girls booty off the screen, I don’t need you all ogling her. We get enough of that, sometimes causes a strain on us. But we’ve remained strong together.”

Paul Rudd was next and he stared at the picture of you for a few solid seconds, “it’s Y/N.” He sheepishly admitted. He pointed an accusing finger dramatically towards the camera—“I only know this because of all the edits you guys make!”

“You don’t have to watch them.” The interviewer pointed out innocently; Paul pouted, grumbling.

Next was Anthony who instantly answered, “That’s Y/N right here!” He hyped you up, grinning. “Don’t even try and make it creepy, we do glutes together man, it’s why we’re the best asses in the cast. Up top!” Anthony exclaimed, holding his hand up towards the picture as if pretending to high five you or something—the interviewer timidly gave him a high five.

Sebastian was next as you (and everyone) watch his eyes flicker and grin that was more of a smirk spread across his cheeks, “that’s definitely y/n.” He assumed instantly. “Would’ve been able to tell you that blindfolded.”

“But—“

“I’d have just sensed her.” Sebastian giggled.

Chris Evans was next—a grin picked up on his face immediately, eyes trained on the photo of you and he ran a hand over his beard, lightly biting his lip (HEELLLOOO????)

“That’s Y/n.” Chris stated confidently, smirking lightly and the camera caught some of the team in line of sight exchange raised eyebrows.

The fifth clip was of Brie Larson who was being interviewed on some sort of premiere event again—presumably or her (marvellous) movie, Captain Marvel, smiling at the interviewer.

“Out of all of the people on the Marvel Cast, those who you’ve met, do you have a favourite out of them?” The interview questioned.

“I’m not really one for favourites but I would definitely say I’m closest to Y/n! She’s—she’s just so lovely and funny and she’s like a ray of sunshine, honestly. She’s been a great help in the filming process as well, she coached me through everything with so patience—I would’ve strangled me if I was her, but no, she just had that adorable smile on her face. She’s truly an amazing person and a better friend than I thought possible.” Brie answered enthusiastically with a soft smile.

“Awwww! We love to hear that—are any of the rumours about her true?”

Brie blinked, seeming taken aback for a brief moment— “Yes she does smell amazing, she’s always effortlessly beautiful, she’s unfailingly hilarious and yes no one in this world deserves her. But like. . if she’s open to it,” Brie paused, winking at the camera and making a call me sign with her hands and mouthing the words with a flirty grin.

The sixth clip was of you, Tom Holland, RDJ, Paul Bettany, Zoe Saldana and Pom Klementieff on Jimmy Kimmel, tasked with drawing your characters. The clip started just as you turned around the drawing of your character and well, it was actually surprisingly good in your own opinion—the audience immediately erupted into loud and obnoxious cheers.

“As great as that is, love, it still doenst capture the extent of your beauty.” Tom Holland, who was sat to your left, grinned cheekily at you and the audience practically shouted and hooted.

“Would anything ever?” Zoe shot back from your right side, twirling a lock of your hair affectionately and smiling as she leaned against you.

“I sincerely doubt that anything could.” RDJ piped up, giving you an unapologetic grin when you looked over at him with fond exasperation as the crowd was practically inconsolable in their glee and enthusiasm, shouting out your praises. “Give it up for sunshine, people. Our gorgeous ray of sunshine!”

“I—“

“They are quite right, Y/n.” Paul Bettany spoke over Jimmy who was obviously going to try and calm down his crowd.

The seventh clip started playing: it was a clip taken from Jacob Batalon’s story, clearly in a party setting—the video showed you and Zendaya in the centre of the dance floor, everyone around you clearly watching you both as you danced up against each other to the sounds of Yeah! by Usher.

“Mate I think your girls about to be stole.” The voice of Tom’s friend, Harrison, sounded from beside Jacob and presumably Tom himself and to empathise Harrison’s words, Jacob zoomed in on your faces, wide grins of ecstasy, and the way Zendaya was admiring you.

“Right in public as well, the scandal.” Jacob cackled.

The eighth clip was an interview of Chris Evans and McKenna Grace (you adored that little girl to pieces). The two of them were answering the ‘Webs Most Searched Question’s’ together.

“Who was.. Chris Evans, date at the Oscars?”

McKenna immediately ooed, smiling teasingly and Chris laughed from beside her.

“This is getting juicy!”

“Well, it was my mom one year and then my sister last year—“

“He wishes it was Y/n though.” The little girl laughed with a beaming smile on her lips and you, present time, arched a brow.

Chris bashfully chuckled with a smile and you swore you could see a genuine red hue on his cheeks, “I mean—it’s Y/n. Anyone would be happy to go with her.”

“I would be!” McKenna excitedly exclaimed as she grinned so sweetly you were now going to make sure you took this sweet child with you to the Oscar’s, Chris seemed to melt as well, recovering from his brief flustered moment.

The ninth clip was Sebastian and Anthony reading out their thirst tweets in a Buzzfeed interview, the clip started as Sebastian was pulling out a tweet from the large bucket.

He read it to himself and blushed faintly, Anthony’s eyebrows practically reaching his forehead as he tried to lean over and read it but Sebastian jokingly shoved him back.

“Oh for—That scene where (Your Character) chokes baby Bucky out with her thighs, his—his head all up in there; the shit I would give to be her, I would give my soul, my fridge, my moms purse, my dads golf clubs. Please, sir. Put your face between my legs like you did Y/n.”

By the end of the tweet, Sebastian had a deeply awkward and slightly perturbed look on his face and Anthony cackled at his side.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was more than happy with it being Y/n, wouldn’t change it even for your dads golf clubs.” Anthony laughed.

“That’s. . I’m gonna have to decline that, um, respectfully.” Sebastian spoke in regards to the tweet, ignoring Anthony.

In turn, Anthony ignored Sebastian as well and just dramatically kept winking at the camera.

The tenth clip was Cobie Smulders, who was being interviewed on some sort of carpet event, smile on her face as she spoke to the interviewer before her.

“How does it feel knowing that the lesbian community, myself included, are firmly rooting for your character, Maria and Y/N’s character (Your Character) to end up together?”

Cobie’s smile turned genuinely delighted, “I love it—we love it. Y/n and I actually have made so many PowerPoints and presented them to the Russo brothers, but alas. I do really want to end up with her—oops, sorry, wait. I really want my character to end with hers. . would be the appropriate wording. But I’m all for inappropriate if Y/n wants.”

Cobie jokingly bit her lip at the camera and you, watching the video, could not contain your laughter as the interviewer practically burst out with excitement.

The eleventh clip was a blooper from your filming of the avengers—you were standing next to Chris Hemsworth who had an arm around your waist, holding you to him as in the scene his character, Thor, flies the both of you away. But Chris quickly tugged you in front of him and began tickling you mercilessly, hysterical giggles falling from your lips as the people around you laughed as well.

“Chris, HAVE MERCY!”

“Aw, but I enjoy hearing your laughter. It’s a very pretty sound.” Chris laughed to himself, finally stopping his attack and letting you slump against his, back to his front. “I particularly like this as well.” He smirked down at you.

“CHRI—“

In the twelfth clip, you and Tessa Thompson were reading out thirst tweets together: “The feminine urge to fall asleep cuddled into Y/n’s boobs is too real, pls come here mommy.” You read out, giggling all the while.

“The urge is so strong.” Tess commented, nodding her add as she sneakily glanced at your chest with a innocent smile.

“Come here, baby.” You joked, laughing as you opened your arms for her and she practically leaped into them, resting her head on your chest.

“I’m living the dreams of millions right now and it feels amazing.” Tessa gloated jokingly, pulling away from you with only final squeeze and a little wink the camera caught.

“I concur.” You grinned back.

The thirteenth clip was you and Tom Hiddleston, talking with an interviewer on a carpet event. His arm was around your waist and both of you were wearing smiles greeting the interviewer.

“So, obviously, you both act in marvel movies, but not really close together! If you could, would you want to work more closely and have you characters be more involved?”

“I absolutely would.” Tom immediately replied with an honest, heartwarming smile. “And personally, it’s not even a fact of our characters being intertwined it’s more that working this fantastic woman beside me is a gift I have come to deeply cherish, truly it’s an honour. And I suppose, if our characters were to get involved, so to speak, that I would enjoy that because this is the y/n y/l/n, I’d be a mad man not to want that.” He finished charmingly.

You grinned, taking a bow, and both Tom and the interviewer laughed before that clip cut as well.

The fourteenth clip was at Comic-Con, mostly everyone on the cast had already been called out and taken their seats and then your name was called, the audience erupting into loud cheers.

Sebastian, who was sat next to your assigned seat, hopped and and jogged over to offer you his arm as you grinned and waved at everyone—the crowd screaming louder at his actions.

The screams only increased as Chris Evans and Don Cheadle got up to pull out your chair for you to sit down in—you pretended to swoon into Sebastian before kissing all of their cheeks and taking your seat.

“Where was the treatment for me?” RDJ joked.

“Man, they’re just whipped. But, like, who isn’t for Y/n?” Anthony stage whispered back to him and the crowd literally roared in excitement.

The fifteenth clip was Aaron Taylor-Johnson being interviewed with Lizzie for the Age of Ultron press, most probably.

“So, Aaron, obviously your character—spoilers, sorry—isn’t with us anymore but if you had the chance to explore Pietro more, who would you have wanted to explore a romance with?”

“(Your Character) definitely, Y/N.” Aaron answered with a little sheepish grin at the speed and Lizzie giggled into her palm.

“I’m not making fun, I agree, for myself.” Lizzie commented unprompted.

“Why is that?” The interviewer questioned.

“Why—mate, I think it’s pretty obvious. Y/n is such a stunning person, inside and out, I would have loved to—and obviously her character is extremely sick and I’m certain the relationship between her and Pietro would’ve been the stuff of legends but. . come on, Y/n Y/l/n is my real reason.” Aaron joked.

“Get your own girl, she’s mine.” Lizzie glared.

There were still many minutes left of the video left and that alone astounded you; overcome with cackles, you forwarded the video the your Marvel groupchat—so yall bitches like obsessed with me or sum 🥰🥰🥰

[nativegirltapes]

angel!reader 🐆🍰⭐️🌺 aka ..... younger!reader

drew starkey's controversially young girlfriend !

a nepo baby, big brat, and one of the prettiest girls you've ever seen ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

her dad is one the biggest movie directors in the US, giving her the opportunity to travel around the world with her dad and meet some of the bigger actors. which is how she met her now boyfriend, joseph andrew starkey ... also most known as drew starkey !!!!!!!

she's always been very into fashion, she even started her own clothing line, releasing everything from baby tees, sweats, to cheeky undies, and pjs.

although she was basically born in the spotlight and fame because of her dad, she actually prefers a more laidback and relaxed life. she loves attention, but not too much. she loves fancy dinners, but also loves home cooked meals. she loves shopping and spending money but also sees value in family and homemade gifts. if you ask her, she's just a 'normal girl'.

she's kind of stubborn and sensitive. she always thinks she’s right and if she’s not she’ll get upset. but she’ll never show that she’s hurt or upset, instead she’ll go hideaway in a nearby room and try to compose herself without crying. most of the time she’s waiting for her big beefy boyfriend to come and comfort her, which he’s grown to get very good at.

she’s a big yapper, and lucky for her, her boyfriend is a big listener. she loves talking about anything and everything. she can be very outspoken on topics she’s passionate about !! she may seem intimidating on the outside but she’s super sweet and silly when she gets to open up

[mattslolita]

plane to paris - c. sturniolo

in which ... having been in love with him for years, you confess your undying affection for chris just moments before you meet your demise. ( best friend!chris x black!fem!reader )

warnings ; pure sadness, mentions of death, angst, crying

"𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏' 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

"now boarding, paris, france at gate seven."

you sighed gently, checking your pocket to make sure that your passport and plane ticket were present — this art gala in which you were invited to showcase your own art would be an amazing experience, as well as a much needed vacation from the things you faced at home. the life surrounding your best friends was something they loved you to be apart of, but you couldn't shake the suffocating feeling it gave you. of course, it didn't necessarily have anything to do with their fame — the problem is between you and your best friend chris. but honestly speaking? this problem had grown when you made the mistake of slowly falling in love with him over the years.

anybody with eyes and common sense could see how you cared for chris — everyone except himself. you'd follow him blindly to the ends of the earth like the lovesick young girl you had been, and over time you learned to hide it from everyone; you lied, saying it was a silly crush that you had eventually grown out of. but you couldn't lie to yourself — you would always love chris.

taking one last look at the airport, you get your passport and ticket scanned, then hurriedly walk past the gate. pausing just briefly, you look up and examine the delta airlines with its door open, urging you forward. just then, you feel a wave of uncertainty — something inside was telling you that things were a little off; you quite possible could have been about to make a mistake. but your heart was telling you that for once, you needed a break from the seemingly never ending unrequited love cycle you fell into with chris.

once on the plane, you walked down the row until you reached your designated seat — you hoisted your bags overhead of you just as a sweet looking older woman came to reside next to you, carrying nothing but a pocketbook and gold fountain pen. you take the window seat and she casts you a warm smile as she sits down next to you.

"and what takes you to paris, my dear?" the woman asks you, her eyes twinkling curiously as she studies you.

"oh, um there's an art gala that i'm supposed to be attending," you explain to her, "they're gonna present my art, too."

"that's just wonderful!" the woman smiles, but she tilts her head at you, "and you're going alone? no handsome young man will accompany you?"

you laugh sadly, shaking your head. "i'm afraid i'll be making this trip by myself."

she nods to you in content, and that's when you notice she takes her pocketbook out as well as the fountain pen, which piques your interest. "may i ask what you're writing?"

"why, today's no better time but to write my will," the older woman tells you. as she looks into your eyes, you notice a glimmer in them, sparking up the uncertainty you felt moments before you boarded the plane.

you nod in understanding, deciding to take your phone out of your pocket — opening instagram, you snap a quick picture and caption it 'taking off.' you added the location of the boston airport then posted it to your story, letting out a small breath; then you took your airpods out and clicked shuffle on a playlust, enjoying the music that flowed throughout your ears, as the plane ascended into the sky.

chris sturniolo had finally been able to have a break from his job, and he and his brothers decided they would come back to boston to visit their parents and best friends — nathan doe and y/n l/n were chris's best friends who lived in their hometown, and he didn't get to see them as much anymore.

truth be told he missed the days of their youth when they'd spend every day attached to each other's hips; chris and y/n were thick as thieves, and he missed his partner in crime — her smile, her laugh, the usual box braids she wore with the charms he helped put in her hair, the way she could walk into a room and instantly make those around her happier, her artistic nature...

unfortunately though when chris had arrived with his brothers at nate's house, he informed them about your art gala in paris that would display your art. he couldn't be happier for you, as he knew art was one of your greatest passions — he just wished he'd had the chance to say goodbye and good luck to you before you departed.

when you and chris were twelve years old, your father up and left out of the blue one night; the next morning, you found a note he wrote to you — he ended it saying 'this isn't a goodbye, y/n. i'll see you later.' from then on whenever you and chris departed from each other, you never said goodbye — it was always see you later.

chris, his brothers, and nate currently resided on nate's living room couch to watch the celtics basketball game that was taking place at the moment. if you had been there watching with them, you would've been laughing with nick about how overdramatic nate, chris, and matt were being. he smiled at the thought, picking his phone up from the side of him as the game continued.

he opened instagram, and your story popped up first much to his relief — a picture of the wing of the delta airline plane stared back at him, as well as the caption 'taking off' with a white heart residing next to it. chris smiles and presses a like to the story, silently hoping that you smiled at the notification.

just then a strange feeling tugs at chris's heart; and he realizes he'll be missing you longer than he thought.

he reaches for the remote that sits on the dining table in front of the four boys, causing nate to furrow his eyebrows at the boy. "c'mon man, what're you doin?"

"m'just turning it up some," chris explains.

his finger however misses the volume button and lands on the channel one instead, causing nate and matt to groan furiously as it switches to the news.

"dude, you just-"

"hold on, quiet for a sec," chris says suddenly as his eyes find themselves glued to the headline staring back at him.

"just in about an hour earlier, delta airlines plane to paris catches fire and crashes just before reaching new york. no information yet on what caused the fire, but the innocent lives of 200 passengers including the plane's captain had been lost today on this tragic afternoon."

chris feels his heart drop and sink to his knees, frozen in place as tears fill his vision, blurring his waterline — matt is quick to get up and curse profanities as tears stream down his face, whilst he shakes his head; nick cries to their parents on the phone, telling them that it wasn't fair; nate babbles about how it couldn't be y/n's plane from boston as tears cascade down his cheeks.

chris can hardly breathe in this moment, hearing his heart beat wildly in his eardrums — no, he refused it. there was just no way that she was gone. he wanted to sue boston airport for allowing a faulty plane the permission to even take off.

how could they take off with you on that plane?

it wasn't fair — you were so good, so pure at heart. you had an amazing soul, always helping and giving to those around you whether it was monetary or as simple as a much needed hug. and oh, the way you loved — you loved people with such a strong force that anyone around you could feel the aura, could see the love you projected. chris has witnessed it more times than he can count.

he knew it because of the way you loved him — and for so long, chris wanted to love you with the same force you loved him.

a ding from chris's phone causes him to look at the cellular device in disdain, expecting either his parents or your mother to have been calling him — what he didn't except, was to see a voicemail.

from your number, that only just came through.

"she called me?" chris whispers, his voice cracked and barely audible, but it was enough to make nick, matt, and nate stop in their tracks. chris hesitantly presses play on the recording, holding the phone to his ear has his glossy eyes remain glued to the tv screen in front of him.

"hi, chris.

before i got on this plane, i sensed this weird feeling that i can't really explain for some reason. originally i was gonna facetime the groupchat when i landed, but then i looked over to my sweet older lady friend next to me, and she was writing her will. and it made me realize tomorrow isn't promised so if i don't say something now, you might never know it.

i love you, chris. more than you'll ever know, and not in the way of just friends. i'm in love with you, and i have been since we were kids. i'm not sure that i always did a good job at hiding it, since nick and nate used to tease me about it for the longest. matt would too, but he was definitely understanding about it. they were always telling me that i needed to confess to you, but i was too scared to ruin our friendship and lose you altogether. and besides, i'm almost certain that the way you loved me was strictly platonic. i want you to know that i would never get mad at you for not reciprocating it, because you can't force what you don't feel.

if by a miracle though you did feel the same at some point, i understand how difficult i probably made it for you to want to express your feelings to me. i've always been extremely happy for you and your past girlfriends because even if it wasn't with me, one thing i always wanted was for you to be happy, no matter what. i'm so thankful to have you as my best friend, and i wouldn't trade you for the world. even if i have to do it in silence, i will be in love with you till i die, and even after.

mon amour, je suis tellement désolée merci de me faire sentir aimée je sais que j'ai besoin de toi je t'aime pour toujours je promets que ce n'est pas un au revoir

i'll see you later, chris."

( lilly's section 💌 )

this is my sign to stop listening to plane to paris on repeat😭🙏 but i absolutely love nessa DOWNNN so yeah. i really hope y'all liked this fic ! muah, i love you all always. 💌

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @mrssturnioloo @mattsturniolosleftnut @sturnprime @thenickgirl @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter @eyeliketoeatpoosay @e1ias3 @sp3aknaur @middlepartmatt @summerssover @riasturns @sturn777 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @pinksturniolo @chrissturniolossidehoe @chris-slut @hoesformatt @raysmayhem-72 @lanas-doll @chrisssluttywaist @mbbsgf @jetaimevous @chaossturns @cottoncandyswisherz @oliviasturniolo21

[dumbsoftheart]

threads of fate

pairing: peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x preachers daughter!reader

tags: 18+, mdni. dub-con, heavy and dark religious themes, dark themes, fingering, kissing, swearing, sliiight voyerism, corruption and innocence kink,

summary: after a chase in the woods, coriolanus becomes devoted to making you his one and only follower.

notes: i don't know what came over me.. enjoy!

word count: 7.2k

౨ׅৎ

the blood of the lamb, washed over the sins of those strayed away from god, atones those begging to be spared from destruction. the saccharine ichor was the ultimate gateway towards deliverance- and thus sought out by sinners and saints alike to be granted eternal redemption for the transgressions that permeated the sweats and tears of the individuals whose secrets would have them damned to the dreadful inferno beneath their feet. the sweet lamb; symbol of innocence and purity, and the wolf who hunted it, the face of deception and treachery, stood now in the heart of the woodlands, the sweet kill hidden shamefully in the asylum of the crowded aspen as it’s predator tauntingly whistled in pursuit of it’s coveted prize. 

tears fell in a waterfall down into the vessels of your collarbones, trailing down and staining the frail white fabric of your dress, unveiling the soft tanned skin of your chest in its wake. with one hand clasped tightly against your mouth, you tried to conceal your wails of fear and the threatening thumping of your heart so as not to draw attention to the towering figure looming dangerously close to you, chuckling lowly as he carefully made his way through the maze of trees and forestry. your other hand was clutched desperately on the golden cross that hung around your neck, thumb haphazardly caressing the delicate engravings and etchings of the cool metal. 

hail mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee. blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, jesus. holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of death.

shame washed over you as you thought of your mother and father- your dear father, and what they would make of your inevitable disappearance. you were taught the way of the lord since you emerged from your mothers womb; it followed you everywhere you went. by all means, you had lived your life for god himself. what would he think of you now? the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of god. and yet there you were, a thief, running from, no doubt, god’s punishment for your sins. 

despite your fathers widespread fame throughout the district, your family struggled to bring food and water to the table regularly. seeing the despair that clouded your mothers eyes as she failed to provide a dinner some nights for her family had driven you towards madness. you grew desperate- desperate to alleviate the stress that haunted her and satiate the hunger that settled in your stomach for the fifth day in a row. you rationalised, that with your undying devotion, god would find it in him to forgive you. with all the work your father put into his sermons and dedication to delivering god's word to the poverty stricken peoples of district 12, the divine being would be forgiving in his punishment in recognition of the loyalty you harboured. 

now, you knew you were wrong. 

you berate yourself for even entertaining the stupid idea of pilfering from the small bakery near the marketplace. in truth, it wasn’t even stealing. you had waited until dark threatened the sky, then snuck behind the establishment to snatch a few meagre, stale loaves that had been carelessly discarded in a small bin beside the refuse receptacles. combined with the butter you had been gifted earlier in the week, these provisions would barely suffice to stifle the persistent pangs in your stomach for a few days, at most. you naively assumed you were in solitude and hastily fled when you’d filled up your small leather bag with as many old rolls and loaves as possible. 

oh, how wrong could you have been? you never caught sight of the face of the man who now charged after you- only a faint glance at a familiar blue that weaved its way through the trees- but the adrenaline rushing through your veins urged you to run, and to never stop. and now, here you were, caught in the act, pathetically weeping as you waited for the repercussions of your actions to find you. 

you moved to press your back harder against the thin trunk of the tree, a twig snapping under the weight of your foot, and your eyes widened with fear as the sound reverberated against the still of the forest, the soft footsteps that trailed behind you coming to an abrupt stop. then, a voice. 

“my dear, it would make it so much easier for us if you just came out. i promise you, i don’t bite.” it purred. the way he spoke was low and unrecognisable, laced with an amusement that had you shiver with the depravity of it. your crying ceased at an attempt to remain as hidden as possible, nary a whimper escaping from behind the painful grip of your hand across your mouth. 

“i know you know what you did was wrong. i mean, stealing from a bakery? i wonder what your father would think of you now, his daughter a thief.”

you fought back tears at the mention of your father, shame once again weighing at your conscience, “come out, and i promise your punishment won't be as harsh as it should be.”

the proposition had you thinking for a bit, the truth behind the words appealing to you for a sliver of a moment. before you could consider your next step; find an out or comply to the omnipresent man’s offering, a gunshot pierces your ears, and you let out a shriek so loud you swore all of panem could hear you.

you begin to wail again then, uncontrollably, screaming and begging for respite as your body gave in under the weight of itself; your knees buckling and falling harshly against the ground. you shake with the ferocity of a small rodent before you’re pulled up by your shoulders and engulfed into a familiar, warm hug. your eyes wide with panic, you thrash your head back in forth in an attempt to find the man who was tormenting you, only to see that he was now gone, and in his place, a small search party lead by a peacekeeper cheered in glory at the sight of you. relief washed over you as you looked up to find your father, falling into the safety of his arms as he escorted you out of the forest, giving a curt thank you to the peacekeeper and another man you recognized to be one of your fathers students, before dragging you to the comfort of your home. 

౨ׅৎ

when your father found out the reason behind your being in the woods, you’d landed yourself a life of extra chores and punished to more frequent church visits until your father decided you had repent enough. your father, reassuring you of god's forgiveness as his child, warned that your actions wouldn't fade from memory. he emphasised the necessity of restoring your relationship with the lord and savior. you were under his constant watch, now. each morning, before dropping you off at school, he compelled you to pray fervently for protection over your family and yourself, urging you to plead for deliverance from the consequences of your actions.

with your increased presence in church taking up most of the time you had to yourself, you found yourself taking note of the other frequent church goers. your father, of course, and his dedicated student, were a constant in your peripheral vision. the old couple who lived only a few minutes away from you, mrs. harmon and her froofy, dirty church outfits, her boisterous children, and her grumbling husband. you noticed small things; like how the wife of the newly-wed couple in town had stopped wearing her wedding ring, and how her husband seemed to never give her a second look. how the twin boys in the grade below you suddenly surpassed you in height, and their younger sister now seemed to lack a certain innocence that was pertinent in her character before. you made a small promise to yourself to pray for her. 

there was one person, however, who you were not familiar with, yet you could feel it in the deep ends of your bones that you knew exactly who he was. he had begun to appear only once a week, his shiny buzzcut and blue peacekeeper uniform sticking out sorely from the rest of the crowd. then, twice a week- then three- and then suddenly you found you could not escape from him. everywhere you turned, he was there. when you walked home from school, you would catch him patrolling somewhere nearby, or laughing and chatting with his peacekeeper friends. when you opened the church doors for mass, he would be first to walk in, handing you a small smile before making his way to sit in the pew farthest away from you. he was there, everywhere you looked, and it unsettled you greatly. there was a lack of sincerity in his eyes when he smiled, and for a moment you thought that it had seemed like hunger, but you pushed the idea away before your brain could process it. one night, when closing the church doors and heading to your home, the small sound of rapid footsteps triggered your fight or flight response, the latter winning. when the man rested his hand on your shoulder politely, handing you a handkerchief you had dropped, you felt a strange sense of deja vu. the speed at which it sounded he had ran towards you didn’t match how he stood before you now; breathing even, chest pushed out pridefully, his dark sapphire eyes never leaving yours. but you were so sure that the man had been sprinting, just like the man who had sprinted after you a few weeks ago had. you gave him a small thank you before speed-walking your way to the front door, panting heavily as you locked it shut behind you and your hand made its way back to the pendant on your neck, grasping it so tightly it hurt, the stipe digging into the soft flesh of your palms as a way of grounding yourself back to your senses. 

that night, when you got on your knees to pray, you couldn’t shake the look on the mans face from your thoughts. his features themselves were even, lacking any sense of emotion, but his eyes troubled you the most. the way they bore into yours made you feel as if you would burst into flames right then. it made you feel as if there was something he wanted from you, but your poor innocent soul couldn’t figure out what. when you nestled yourself into your bed that same night, you vowed to stay as far away from him as possible. 

you hadn't realised how hard that would be. 

he approached you the next morning. it was saturday, and the usual gloomy weather of district 12 had been forced away and replaced with the harsh, bright sunlight. it shone spectacularly through the stained-glass windows, gracing the dark wood of each side aisle with vibrant reds and yellows and blues  and brightening the deep red carpet that lay evenly along the nave. you stood behind the pulpit, readying your fathers sermons and homilies for that week's sabbath. he had barged in unannounced, making his way towards you slowly as you pretended to ignore the tall figure making its way down the red path. 

“good morning, miss,” he spoke lowly towards you, peering upwards slightly as the pulpit was slightly taller than the rest of the church, and you pretended to read through the cards and flip through your bible as if it were you preparing to speak in a mere 15 minutes. he cleared his throat once, and you waved your hand nonchalantly towards the pews, “the preacher will be ready shortly. please, have a seat.” 

from behind your fathers flashcards, you could see a small tick of his jaw and he pressed his lips together tightly, nodding slowly before making his way to his usual seat, feigning interest in the architecture of the building. 

“its quite beautiful, no?”

you hummed. 

“i wonder how the district could afford to pay for it.”

the comment caught you off guard, causing you too look up at him with scrunched brows, your lips parted in confusion. surely, he knew the capitol had paid for it- and even then, what did it matter? a sanctuary for god deserved only the best of resources, you thought. the beauty of the church was a reflection of the beauty of your religion, the intricacies and meticulous carpentry of the building spoke to one of the three transcendentals that point to god. of course, it would be beautiful. 

before you could think of a response to the bizarre musing, your father burst in, pressing a light kiss to your cheek and thanking you kindly for preparing for him. the man stood up to make his way to greet the preacher, and you were out of sight as fast as lightning. 

that cycle continued for a while. he would sit in the pews, admiring the architecture (when really, he was admiring you), then stand to greet your father enthusiastically, frowning ever so slightly when you disappeared the moment he made any closer to your father. eventually, you had become quite good at avoiding him. you saw him less in the markets, saw less of him in church, and rarely caught sight of him anywhere else. that was, until you found him at your doorstep one hot summer day. 

you and your mother swore it was the hottest day to see district 12, and you sat on the porch in a small, lace trimmed top and cut-off jean shorts. your hair was carelessly tossed into an updo to relieve your neck of some heat, and you sat in your fathers old chair as you sipped on some juice your family had been given earlier that day. 

you weren’t expecting any visitors that day, so it was safe to say you nearly choked when the man appeared from behind the path of thrush that hid your small home from sight of the church, dressed only in the blue dress pants of his peacekeeper uniform and a thin white shirt, silver dog tag swinging like a pendulum across his chest as he made his way towards you. your father had emerged delighted, mr. snow!, he cheered, patting the man- snow, what a fitting name- on his back and urging him inside. you scrambled to the backdoor and into the kitchen where your mother rest, the door slamming behind you loudly as you entered, causing her to jump. 

“dear?”

“that man daddy’s talking to- who is he?”

she gave you a halfhearted shrug, “i wouldnt know, pumpkin, it’s probably business with your father. he goes to the church, no?” 

you nodded, pacing back and forth, ignoring the crazed look your mother threw at you as you processed the information. 

“do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil,” she reminded you, and your jaw dropped at the silent accusation she threw at you. 

“absolutely not, mother!” you stormed back out the door, drowning your mother’s laughter out with frustrated mumbles of has she lost her mind? and what a woman! how she could ever think something about snow was tempting you was beyond your understanding. however, when you made it back to your chair and your watered down glass of juice, the sight of a shirtless ‘mr. snow’ and your, otherwise fully dressed, father in the garden, dripping sweat shamelessly into your mothers vegetable patch, a snap thought breached your mind that perhaps there was something tempting about the mysterious man. 

that sent you into a frenzy. your knee bounced anxiously as you silently begged god to forgive you for the thought, and that it was simply intrusive, and not reflective of the morals and high grounds you held closely to your heart. nervously, you grabbed the book you had abandoned weeks ago and shoved your nose into the pages as if to distract yourself from your own brain and its wicked ministrations.  

you weren't sure of how much time had passed, yet it felt like the man's stay was suspiciously short as he and your father made their way inside. you gave him a curt nod, and your father gave you a small lecture about manners, insisting that the two of you become accustomed to one another. and there you were, legs drawn up to your chest as if to protect yourself from the sinful looking man before you. 

“my name is coriolanus snow,” he said. coriolanus. it was unlike any name you’d heard before. you returned the gesture softly, hoping that he would disappear behind your father into the house and you could breathe again, but he stayed and stared at you with that look, “your father tells me we’re the same age. he’s a nice man.”

you bit your lip at that. the same age? there was something about coriolanus that seemed older. it also begged the question: what was someone his age doing as a peacekeeper? you opened your mouth to pry at him, but he cut you off, stepping closer. 

“tell me, dear, what sins weigh in your heart?” 

you drew yourself back further into the safety of your chair, face laced with disgust as you tried as hard as possible to distance yourself from the imposing man now caging you into your confinement. his breath was heavy on your nose, and your heart pounded harshly- from what, you weren’t sure. fear? a sense of danger? temptation? his lips were so close to yours now, you could smell the faint scent of cologne that mingled with the saltiness of his sweat, and you tried your best to keep your breathing as even as possible, feigning indifference to his proximity to you poorly. 

“i dont know what you mean, mr. snow.”

he smiled at that, laughing lowly. he didn’t expect you to know what he meant, of course, but he had an inkling that if he played his cards just right, he’d have you right where he wanted. he leaned closer now, lips dodging yours, lightly brushing your nose as his head turned to whisper in your ear. 

“do you think of me at night? our little chase?”

“wh-what?”

“you’re smart, miss. think about it.”

he disappeared into the house, bidding goodbye to your mother and father and whisking himself away. your mouth remained parted, eyes wide with confusion as you tried to process what his words could have meant. 

surely, he couldn’t mean.. 

no. absolutely not, you decided. coriolanus may have unsettled you ungreatly, but he was a peacekeeper- and your father had always told you that they served to protect you, that they would never harm you purposely. you stood shakily and made your way quietly into the old house, reeking of old wood and boiled vegetables. you sat on the couch near your brother, holding his head to your chest as you stroked his hair comfortingly, still trying to process. from the kitchen, your father called, “he’s a nice boy, no? perhaps he could be of some influence to you, sweetheart.” 

you agreed meekly, despite disagreeing with your father completely. you werent entirely sure what he saw in the man at all, yet you were adamant that he was, in fact, not a good influence, but a parasite. you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. he made you feel unsafe- unsure of yourself, and for some reason, your faith. you decided he was no good; but yet you couldnt make any understanding of the bittersweet ache between your thighs. 

when coriolanus walked home that evening, he couldn’t fight his smile. he saw you, in all his glory, struggling pathetically under his gaze, squirming and fidgeting uncontrollably as he trapped you within the cage of his arms. 

the sacrificial lamb has been caught, he thought. 

what a stupid, stupid lamb. 

౨ׅৎ

you rushed into church near 5 am the next day, sleep deprived from the constant running of your mind and the damned words of coriolanus snow. 

“our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” you repeated to yourself, kneeled below the large wooden crucifixion of jesus, hands clasped tightly together, your head resting painfully against the white of your knuckles. 

what you were praying for, you didn’t know. you couldn't go to the confessional- heavens forbid, no. confessing secrets of your dreams of coriolanus’s hands, the outline of his jaw, the way he whispered his sinister words so sweetly into your ear- to your father? you would rather be hanged for the whole district to see. there was nothing sinful about your dreams, exactly, but it felt sinful, dirty, downright hellish. you thought of his lips, the soft and pink flesh of them, the stormy blue of his eyes- and, oh god, you couldn't stop replaying his words in your head. 

‘do you think of me at night?’ he had asked you so earnestly. as if he needed you to tell him yes, you did think of him, every night. it wasn't a lie, of course, only the way you had begun thinking about him had changed. but that wasn't your doing at all, was it? no, he was to blame, for speaking to you like that, for dangling his dog tag so close that it brushed your cross indecently, for showing up to your house and stripping himself half naked, sweating impurely over the soil you and your mother sowed and reaped with love, with innocence, purity. it was entirely his fault, from the way he seemed to be forcing himself into your life. the church door creaked open, and you continued to pray, “give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

your heart raced as footsteps neared closer, as if you knew exactly who they belonged to. 

“what troubles you, little lamb?” his voice took you with fear, the way it rumbled in his chest and reverberated on the walls confining the two of you, alone. you raised your head, refusing to look back at him, “i do believe that's none of your concern, mr. snow.”

you heard him chuckle lowly, repeating the words mr. snow to himself under his breath. it made you shiver, and you recited the bible verses your father drilled into your head from as young as you could remember: vindicate me, o god, and plead my cause against an ungodly nation; rescue me from deceitful and wicked men.

you could feel him now, knee pressed lightly against your back. you stood up and turned to face him, eyes wild and daring as they searched the azure maze of his own. his hand reached to stroke your hair, and you flinched. 

“why is it that you fear me so much, do you think?”

“i’m not afraid of you.”

he tsked, “‘fear’ is different than ‘being afraid’, darling. to be afraid is a fleeting moment. your brain's immediate response towards danger,” he moved to touch your hair again, now more forcefully, tucking the loose strands along your hairline behind your ear. 

keep back your servant also from willful sins.

he continued, “i asked, why do you fear me?”

you tried to search deeper into his eyes, trying to grasp any understanding at what he was trying to communicate to you. your mind ran amok, and it was no help that coriolanus's hand now snuck its way into your fingers, fidgeting with the soft digits mindlessly. 

“i don't.. i don't know-” he cut you off by stepping closer before you finished. you had wanted to tell him that you didn't know why he thought you feared him, that you didnt understand the question, and that you needed to get home soon, so to please excuse you. 

“i think you fear what i impose between you and your precious god.”

you let out an involuntary laugh, giggling childlishly at the accusation. you stopped, when his eyes darkened. 

“i’m sorry, mr. snow, but i really don’t know what you mean!” you were struggling to contain your girlish giggles. what he imposes between me and god? it was such a bizarre statement, so plainly laid out for you, that you couldn’t even comprehend it entirely. your laughing ceased, for good now, when his hand circled tightly around your wrist. 

let them not have dominion over me.

then i will be upright.

“i’m not stupid, love. i saw you, yesterday, practically drooling over me. i wonder what your father would have to say if he saw the sinful way you ogled at me,” he paused, and you swallowed painfully, “and dont tell me you’ve forgotten all about our little chase, hm? wasnt it exhilarating?” now, panic engulfed you. you tried to back away from him as the pieces etched themselves together in your brain, but his hold on your wrist was only getting tighter. 

“that was you?” your voice was impossibly small, weak from the alarm that blared in your head. your eyes darted back and forth desperately, searching for an out, hoping and praying that someone might burst in and see the scene before you, tear hades away from his persephone and save her from her impending doom. 

i will be blameless and innocent of great transgression.

he dipped his head to your neck, lips deliciously grazing over the supple skin of your collar bone, pressing kisses so light you could barely feel them as you tried to wriggle from his grasp. 

“of course it was me, darling,” the way you felt him smile against your skin was chilling, and you fought back tears as he moved impossibly closer to you, “isn’t that adrenaline rush just addicting? tell me, dove, what do you think about me when you lie in bed and replay our precious little moments together in that pretty head of yours?” 

your breathing quickened, and you winced as coriolanus gripped tighter at your wrist, his other hand painfully gripping the small of your waist, massaging the gentle muscle of it. you could feel his entire body pressed against yours, and a tear threatened to slip when you felt the hard pressing of his lower region on your stomach. you shook your head, refusing to give in to his line of questioning, but his grip on your waist tightened and you cried out in pain, “your hands!” you whined, relief slowly making its way to the sore area of your waist as he loosened his grip. he made to grasp your chin under his index, forcing you to keep eye contact with him and urged you silently to keep going. 

“your..” you let out a shaky sigh, “your h-ands, your voice, the words you speak to me. i don't understand why.” 

he cooed at you now, as if proud of you for speaking up. your eyes darted to his lips, and you saw something flash in his eyes, “anything else?”

let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight,

lord, my rock, and my redeemer. 

you tried to look down at your feet as if to run away from the question, but his hold on your chin was unrelenting. shamefully, you whispered, “your lips.” 

he let out a small ahhh, as if the admission shocked him. he knew, of course. of course he knew. you poor thing. sweet, little lamb, so innocent and pure. untouched by lust, blind to its deceptive allure. he knew from the moment he’d gone after you in those woods and failed to catch you, that he would do everything in his power to make sure you would never escape his grasp again. he knew when his frail attempts at getting closer to you failed, he had to resort to a harsher solution. he needed to infiltrate every space you breathed in, and break his was into your mind until he had you right where he needed you to be: malleable, so he could corrupt you just as easy. 

he knew your father protected you, the extent to which he went to protect you, as well. banning sex education in your school, ensuring your mind stays as pure as possible to the exploits of fickle men and their wants. you knew the basics, thanks to your mother and her worrisome self, but her teachings were meddled down into some confusing allegory that left your mind as clueless as before, so that you stayed intact, perfect and pristine in the lords eye as well as the rest of the district, in your white frilly dresses, light makeup, and perfectly crafted manners. 

he knew how easy it would be to get in your head. the human body is funny, like that, wherein it begs for things it doesn’t know of. he knew when he flexed his hands you caught sight of it, when he swallowed you intently watched the way his adams apple bobbed, he knew when he showed up to your home and stripped himself almost bare it would plague your mind with an unknowing want and desire, and soon enough, you’d have no choice but to give in to it, abandon your god and his lessons for coriolanus alone. 

he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, swiping his thumb across yours as if to mirror himself, and then ducked his head closer, “go on.”

you squeezed your eyes shut. everything felt so, so wrong, and you didn't know why, but you couldn't stop. when he continued to toy with your lip, slightly plunging the tip of his finger past them and into your mouth, you let out an involuntary, small moan, and your legs shook and quivered as the strange ache from yesterday returned. 

“wh-what?”

“kiss me.”

your eyes widened, and you shook your head. coriolanus thought it was adorable, how you struggled to piece together what was about to happen, how your brain tried desperately to fill in the blanks with information it didnt know. you heard coriolanus sigh disapprovingly at your protests and he shoved his thumb further into your mouth, causing you to choke. he removed it, then wiped the saliva that remained over your bottom lip before inserting the digit in his mouth, tasting you. 

“its okay, little one. you can kiss me. he wont mind,” you didnt realize your fingers lingered over the necklace nestled on your chest, and your gaze followed his finger as he gestured upwards. he wont mind. you racked your brain over the things coriolanus said to you from he entered the church.

“i think you fear what i impose between you and your precious god.”

now, you truly hoped someone would burst in, and you could scream and wail as you explained the horrors coriolanus was about to commit to you (even if those horrors were unclear). he was so close, and something still pressed hardly against your stomach, and suddenly you couldn't breathe, “he would mind. i promise to pray for you coriolanus, i don't know what troubles you, but the lord-” 

he cut you off by shoving his lips onto yours harshly, groaning at the contact. his hands made their way to rest on your clothed breasts, and you wriggled and struggled to try get away from him, but your efforts were fruitless. you were cornered, now. a lamb with nowhere to run or hide, forced to face its fate. he ravaged your lips, hands restless as they caressed all over your protesting body. the ache between your legs grew, and a small part of you realized that the last thing you wanted right now was for someone to walk in, and see the preacher's daughter being completely defaced by a peacekeeper. 

“your god cant give me what i need, angel. cant you see? you did this to me,” his hand grabbed yours as he pulled away to speak, trailing it down the hard muscle of his abdomen and palming the hardness that threatened to burst through the seam of his pants. your eyes were wide and doe-like, and coriolanus never needed to fuck you more. his lips met yours again, and his other hand fumbled to remove his pants, hissing when the air hit his straining cock, all while you tried your best to distance yourself from him as much as possible. your face was hot, and your hands remained in the air, unsure of where to rest them, as you slowly allowed coriolanus to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

“good girl,” he practically growled, and you let out a pathetic squeak when you felt your core tighten, pleasure washing over you at the small praise. coriolanus was turned on beyond conception, moaning disgracefully as he stroked himself through the fabric of his underwear. if you could see the spectacle the two of you were making, in the middle of church- no less, the thought alone had coriolanus close to the edge. you gasped when you saw him palm himself, and without thinking, your hand brushing his ever so slightly, lingering a second too long before his eyes snapped up at yours, pleading you to go ahead and touch him. 

when you finally pressed your hand to his clothed region, you swore the way coriolanus threw his head back with a small mewl and moan would land you an eternity in hell alone. 

“thats it, baby, jus’ like that.. keep going..” you gasped when his hand sneaked its way under your dress- your sunday best- your hand faltering a bit when his long middle finger lightly grazed your clothed cunt. the foreign feeling it elicited from you had you desperately searching coriolanus’s eyes for an answer, unable to speak as his fingers that toyed with the most intimate parts of you had you moaning softly and lowly, uncontrollably. you continued to palm him, and his hand slipped into the lacy cotton of your panties, cursing hotly under his breath when he feels you. 

“so wet for me. you dirty fucking girl, look at you: making a mess in church.” you didnt know what he meant, but shame burned through your skin. confusion grappled at you and you began to sob, not ignoring the way your tears seemed to make coriolanus throb beneath you, “please stop, coriolanus, this is immoral.”

“baby, if it feels good, then it cant be bad,” he stroked the tear stains on your cheek softly, cupping your face with false earnest as he pulled your head to lay on his chest, “does it feel good?”

coriolanus reveled in the way you looked up at him, like a devoted follower in the arms of their saviour. when you nodded slowly, he gently spun you around and shoved your face into the cool wood of the crucifixion behind you, his hand painfully pushing against your cheek enough so that you couldn't look anywhere but above you, into the sad eyes of jesus. 

your panties were ripped off with a shriek that was muffled by coriolanus’s hand around your mouth, and you sobbed as pain mixed with pleasure as he gave a few slaps to your dripping cunt, mumbling about how pretty it is. in a desperate attempt to wiggle out of your new position, you accidentally arched your back further, giving him more access. 

“let me show you how i can love you,” he whispered into your ear, before returning his fingers to the slick mess that coated your cunt, your body jolting when they occasionally brushed over your clit, the unfamiliar sensation already too overwhelming for you to handle. with a few more agonising strokes of his fingers, he prodded at your hole, teasing your entrance in a way that had your eyes roll to the back of your head. when he finally slipped them in, your hand pounded desperately against the cross you were pressed up on, pleads to stop falling pathetically into the hand of coriolanus and onto deaf ears. he was merciless with it, greedily pounding his fingers into you in a way that had your knees gravitating towards each other and animalistic grunts of pleasure vibrating through his hand. 

something in you burned, your body was pleading for more as an unfamiliar coil formed in the pit of your stomach. your hand continued to bang against the cross, tears falling as you forcibly peered into the eyes of your saviour while you got your cunt ravaged in the middle of his shrine. 

“oh god, oh god” you mumbled through his hand. you were unsure if it was shame, or the delicious way coryo pumped his fingers into you, but you grew lightheaded and dumb, eyes hazy as you grew closer to your release. 

“thats it, take it. you’re filthy, taking my fingers so well in the middle of church.” now, both hands scraped desperately against the cross, leaving marks in the wake of your fingernails digging into the hardwood. coriolanus tugged your head further up, forcing you to stare at him with tears streaming down your face and desperate pleas for him to stop going unheard. he smiled coyly when he felt your pussy clench around his fingers, and he withdrew them just before you reached your release, a loud, agonising whine of relief and desperation leaving your smushed lips. he was quick to replace his fingers with his cock, the slow intrusion of it making you let out a low, droned out groan as he stretched your virgin cunt past its limit.

he removed his hand from your mouth, and a string of prayers tumbled out of it, “o my god, i am heartily sorry for having offended thee,” and “and i detest all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend thee, my god, who art all good and deserving of all my love.” it earned you a slap to your ass, and you cried out loudly as coriolanus shoved your dress off of you, watching as it fell uselessly around your legs into a pool of white. he flipped you around, admiring your soft breasts and the way they spilled over in the hold of his fingers, and he traced the soft, plumpness of your belly as he chuckled lowly at your continuous prayer. with his cock still nestled into you, he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. 

“god loves you, but not as much as i do,” and then he thrust his cock into you with such force that you nearly tumbled to the floor. his hand rest on your lower back, forcing you to arch closer to him, your hips meeting his unwillingly at his fast pace. coriolanus’s cock grazed the inside of your gummy walls perfectly, and you found yourself slipping from reality as he continued to pound his dick into you, moaning when you contracted around him without rhythm, your inexperienced self almost overloaded with pleasure, unable to control your body. 

“you’re being such a good girl, taking my cock like this,” he weaved a hand through your hair, “‘n you’re gonna let me cum inside you, yeah? gonna make a woman out of you.” you couldnt focus on the words he was throwing at you, lost in pleasure as the tip of coryo’s dick hit that one spot over and over again. the way he spoke to you had you at a crossroads, and it didnt help that he was fucking you into oblivion, and now you understood what he had meant when he said he imposed between you and god, because you were becoming addicted to the push and pull of his cock inside of you. 

“thats right, take it. you look so pretty all dumb and fucked out on my cock,” you reached to grab his arm to steady yourself, your orgasm creeping in closely, “you gonna cum for me?” 

you didn't know what it meant, but you nodded anyways, completely lost in bliss, “coryo..” you moaned out, his brows raising slightly at the new nickname, a smirk settling on his face. moans and mewls lewdly left your mouth as he quickened his pace, his unused hand massaging at your tits, twisting and pinching softly at your nipples as you thrashed with pleasure under him. 

“gonna make you worship this fucking cock, baby” he was close himself now, his head falling and his voice itching up an octave, lewd moans clashing with yours as the rhythm and pace he set began to falter, and he fucked you as hard as he could as he chased your high and his own, “gonna make you devoted to me. you’re never gonna wanna be away from me again,” his face twisted with pleasure, and you circled your arms around his neck as you tried to ground yourself, the coil in your stomach slowly beginning to unravel and threatening to snap. a shadow passed, and your eyes widened with terror as you slapped coryo’s arm haphazardly, begs falling from your mouth to stop. he turned his head lazily to look at what you were whining about, but his thrusts didn't stop. 

“let them see what a dirty fucking girl you are.” 

your walls tightened and your eyes rolled so far back into your head you were scared they wouldn't come back up as your orgasm reached you. you covered your mouth, shrieking desperately as the shockwaves of pleasure rolled over you, the newfound feeling unrelenting as it took over every part of your body. coriolanus repeated words of encouragement and praise as he fucked you through your high, before bottoming out and releasing his load in you, christening your walls. you whined at the feeling, so full and drunk off of it that your concerns of the passerby faded. the both of you stood there, panting heavily, both groaning when coryo slid out of you. he slapped his tip on your puffy clit one, two, three times, before a loud knock rapped on the church door. 

you could feel coriolanus’s spill leaking out of you as you crouched on your knees, hidden, and you cried silently, the reality of what had just happened to you settling in. coriolanus snow had corrupted you, in the worst possible way, and now you could only feel yourself crave more of him. as he spoke to the intruder, egging them to run along, a thumb caressed your head gently, as if to tell you he had everything under control. the small southern drawl he’d begun to pick up was more prominent. when the intruder finally left, you were forced to your feet, and coriolanus grabbed your ruined panties, resting on his knees below you to shove them into your used cunt, before making his way back to his feet, towering over you. he spoke to you like he would if he were on duty:

“you go on home now, miss. and tell your father i say hello.” 

and you did. 

౨ׅৎ

@dumbsoftheart, 2023

[joesalw]

To answer a question you posed;

She wanted Joe to apologize to prove his undying devotion. I genuinely think she doesn't have a healthy perspective on love and she strikes me (and some of her lyrics back this) as someone who puts her partner through tests to prove their love. So she may have broken up with Joe expecting him to run back and say sorry for being depressed and when he didn't, she grew angry. And since we know now from one of her songs that she was looking at his location on her phone, she was probably pissed that he went back to England and was going out/moving on with his life. I think the mix of chaotic fame and no guardians preserving her innocence has unfortunately taught her that life and love are a series of ups and downs rather than mundane. Her perception of love is a telenovela.

Tbh Joe had proved his love for her several times already. From her previous songs like afterglow, the great war and even me! she sings that she is the one who always tried to end their relationship but he was always persistent and fought for it. She kept putting him through tests to the point it must drain him mentally.

"Tell me that we'll be just fine even when I lose my mind"

"Tell me that it's not my fault, tell me that I'm all you want even when I break your heart"

"When we had the fight out in the rain, you ran after me and called my name... I never wanna see you walk away"

"I lived like an island punished you through the silence"

"I pinned your hands behind your back, thought i had reasons to attack but no"

"Soldier down on the icy ground, looked up at me with honor and truth. Broken and blue so I called off the troops"

"Why'd i have to break what i love so much"

"Daring you to leave me just so i can try and scare you"

"You said I'd have to trust more freely"

"I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you"

It kind of annoys me how joe kept fighting for her and trying to prove his love because man it really sounds draining. Even this time, she wanted a similar response from him where he'd fly back from the other side of the world and tell her how sorry he is and apologize. But finally he got fed up and accepted the decision (i think he outgrew her too) and that's what made her so pissed. She's mad because he's moving on. Hence, all the scheming and plotting to make him look like a villain.

[dionysianfreak]

Prayer to Hephaestus against wildfires

Lord Hephaestos of the Smoldering Kilns—

tamer of the flame and shaper of smoke,

lover of the ashes and crafter of unmatched skill.

i plead with thee to tame this wild beast.

quell the roaring spirits whom consume all they touch,

their greed unquenchable, destructive, and smoldering.

thus I call to you, my savior, undying Hephaestos—

Klytomêtis, Klytos, Aithalóeis Theós—

bend back this unruly beast and strike down your mighty hammer.

show mercy to us, God of the Scorching Heat,

that we may sing your praises to the unburned skies.

for i will remember you with this prayer, and again with another.

Klytomêtis (Κλυτομητις) - Famed for Skill, Crafts

Klytos (Κλυτος) - Renowed, Famed, Glorious

Aithalóeis Theós (Αιθαλοεις Θεος) - Sooty God

[celestoria]

aaa congratulations on your milestone!!!

can i req 7, 18 and 20 with al-haitham?

Tags: somnophilia, jealous sex, creampie, video editor!alhaitham x idol!reader

A/n: this was longer than expected lol.

Do not interact if you are 17 or below (17+)

Alhaitham was never a man who enjoyed the limelight since he found it extremely overbearing. Even if he isn’t willing to relish the fame with you on stage, he’s always willing to support you on the sidelines and watch you shine.

Though people found him to be a genius, yet stubborn editor who never does anything above the bare minimum in the music industry, he hasn’t caught pulling extra hours to get a video finished earlier before you two got together. Some people called it a miracle, but he just calls it doing what was in his job description.

It was normal for him to rewatch scenes of you dancing from different angles over and over again just to pick the best one. He enjoyed seeing you passionately do what you loved.

However, your recent video, a collaboration with an arguably handsome man, made his teeth grit and his blood boil whenever he saw you two in the same frame. Alhaitham deemed it illogical to fret over professional matters, so he pushed his rash emotions aside to get it over with.

But later that night, his mind played scenes of you and that man in his mind. Seeing how close he was to you while you wear clothes far too revealing than he’s comfortable to admit made his jaw clench.

It was uncharacteristic for him to feel this way, letting such irrationalities get the best of him while you lay asleep next to him, his arms wrapping around your waist in the middle of the night, symbolizing your trust in his protection during your vulnerability.

That wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to have your undying loyalty, whether you are awake or not.

His hips grind against the thin fabric of your panties, hidden under a shirt far that’s too big for you. His forehead rested on the crook of your neck, a place where it was usually loud enough for you to hear his needy sighs but now you had your eyes shut like nothing was happening.

Logic, something he always abides by, told him that his actions are a risky take, but his emotions, one he rarely follows, said his greed will only consume him if he doesn’t do something about it.

Alhaitham grunted, the tight constraints of his crotch freed his hardened member. He spreads your cheeks to make room for him as he slips himself in you, trying not to nudge you awake during the process. The warmth of your pussy tightly wrapped around his aching cock. Even when you’re asleep, you still take him so well.

His buff arm hugged you from your shoulder, acting as an anchor to keep you still. A heavy weight burdened his chest, mixing in with pleasure that travels throughout his body as his girthy cock bullies your cunt.

He could just claim you here and now by spilling his seed inside of you. How pretty would it look once it seeps out.

Your eyelids fluttered open, dazed from a dream you can barely remember. Processing what was going on, the first thing you noticed was the heat of your core and the fast-paced friction between your legs.

“Ngh~ '' your hand traveled to clasp Alhaitham’s grip on your body, almost letting a chill run down his spine if he wasn’t so caught in the moment. “Alhaitham, what happened- ah,” you moaned, the moment he went faster in and out of you.

His hand caressed your body before it traveled to your pussy so his rough fingers could circle your puffy hub. Overstimulated, you tried to pull his arm away but his defiance gave him the strength to stay where he is.

He knew full well you’re incredibly sensitive when you just woke up, and he’ll gladly take advantage of that knowledge if it ensured you’ll never think of other men even just for a millisecond.

“You know you’re mine, right? Tell me,” he growled, envy and desperation coating every word spilling out of his mouth.

“Yes,” you swallowed as you nodded, feeling the knot in your stomach growing tighter as he rearranged your insides with how balls deep he is.

Despite your answers, his fingers pressed deeper into your clit, his digits fiddling with you faster than he ever did before. Something tells you he isn’t stopping until he’s satisfied with your answer.

Typical Alhaitham. Never saying more than he needs to.

“Yes. I’m yours. You’re the only man for me, Alhaitham. No one else,” you screamed, your head rolling back.

He loved the way you cried his name, thick with submission and the loyalty he expects from you. The jealousy that conquered his logic turned into possessiveness. He feels reassured he’s the only one who can make you melt like putty from fucking you that hard even in your sleep.

Alhaitham’s lips curved upwards, smirking with satisfaction. His movements began to be sloppy, ready to leak out at any moment. Your walls pulsate around him, yearning for sweet release. With a final stroke, he buried his member deep inside you, unexpectedly filling you to the brim. As he pulled out, his cum oozed out and trailed to the sides of your lips.

You barely came down from the high when Alhaitham flipped you over, rose from where he laid, and knelt behind you. Your soaking wet panties pulled down close to your knees, allowing the cold air to brush against you.

He had your head buried against the pillow and your ass up ate an angle where his dick could slide in so easily. He brought his body forward, his biceps lighting brushing your back and his lips close to your ear. “We’re not stopping until I fuck a smart girl like you dumb.”

[dreamliners]

from the interviews and con vids i've seen, joseph quinn is a dork and an old man at heart. this guy does not seem like the type of man who is looking for attention or validation from fame or hollywood, so please stop theorizing all of this is a ploy to get him some hype

like yo he is the hype, he got big off one role without dating anyone. he won that mtv award of his own merit, tbh if ya'll saying he's using doja, i'd have to ask for what?

also why are ya'll now suddenly sailor moon transforming from fans to close family friends or some shit, like ya'll dont know his father or family so please get the fuck out of his dad's instagram page with your weirdo begging and whining that he's dating a bad person fuck ya'll think he is 12?!

lastly and on the topic of doja herself, she isnt perfect by any means but if she dumped her racist ass ex to be with joseph then shit shes turning in the right direction towards self improvement. and ya know what, joseph could learn about not giving fuck about this kind of shit from because the way she said the same thing chappell roan just said about fans "loving" artists is weird. you dont know these people to claim your undevoted undying love for them. like what is this shit medival england???? we aint servs working for a king. and once more YOU DONT KNOW THESE FOLKS AT ALL.

[sgiandubh]

The Ascent of Lying

Why, Mordor people? Why do you lie?

Is it stupidity? Hunger Greed for clicks? That #silly, #silly itch to be FIRST? And RIGHT?

The Ascent of Lying started in this fandom with *urv. Her Google sources, her undying obsession for S (and the mandatory hypocrisy that comes along with it), her paltry stories fit for people who never took a flight overseas in their entire life (not something bad at all, but in this context, this makes you incredibly fragile), her remake of the Twilight fandom hullaballoo and her chutzpah.

It continued with Jess, on this side of the fandom: her OTT girlish enthusiasm, her elusiveness IRL and finally, her capitulation and resurrection, under the same name, but with a totally opposed POV. For perhaps you don't know it, but Jess 2.0 has been back since quite a while ago, now making amends about her former strong beliefs. Even taking full responsibility for some 'receipts' (remember the S lemon pin/wedding ring one? she confirmed it was her and it probably was a #silly, horrible lie). How convenient and how depressing, isn't it? Reading her new, sparse blog brought along two firm thoughts: why this need to robotically inform us about her happiness and her change of heart? Also, how many Anons did Jess 2.0 send, since her comeback, to this side of the fandom?

Let this disappointment be my sin, then and let the link to her new hole in the wall remain undisclosed by this page. I have no wish to either start a flaming war, nor give this woman more space than she deserves:

You'll have to deal with the very childish LMAO and this completely irresponsible explanation: 'it was fun to fantasize at the time'. No, lady: you LIED. You lied through your teeth and because you had the privilege of having a thirsty audience, you thoroughly enjoyed this strange avatar of fame, as you say it publicly yourself, now. You even were, most probably, heavily used by ***'s PR and even S (that is a very firm belief), just like another very fragile individual, who switched sides in a far more vocal and pathetic way. That makes for a mixed bag of truths and lies, something I think we all are way too familiar with, by now. But that does not preclude, nor excuse in any shape or form, your eagerness to ahem, 'embellish" a very real love story and twist it according to your naivete and parochial life experience. Morally, you are 0, to me: a sentimental troll, completely on par with *urv.

I could blather on and on about Jess's main competitor, Puffy, too. I think I already wrote enough about her, if only because many believed me to be her latest avatar, which is completely ridiculous, but ridiculous with an agenda. So, did Puffy lie, too? Probably, especially while creating Stella and Deep Throat out of thin air. Let's agree she heavily extrapolated, which is a shame, because some of her analysis is really spot on.

The Ascent of Lying then morphed, along with an US busy social and political agenda being more and more sensitive to the 'fake news" issue, towards the Factchecker Anti blogs, who mimicked neutrality and promoted online stalking to unprecedented levels. Along came people like Meowkabob, who even manufactured their own facts/evidence and released them online. That was perfectly premeditated and done for increased credibility (I have debunked her shite last fall, if you remember), being fully aware that her libel could not be justified only by a prior, questionable, 'London experience', of which we conveniently have no concrete details. The other blog, you all know and sometimes visit: whether she is a PR plant or lonely rider doesn't really matter, yet a stalker and a hypocrite in her own right, too. The fact that both these persons suddenly felt an urge to express themselves during the heavily conspiratorial climate of the first COVID pandemic wave is not innocent at all, I think.

Lying is the real Uncharted Territory of this fandom and one of the main reasons we seldom have nice things to talk about, anymore. I barely scratched its surface and merely stated the obvious. If anything, it only comforted and strengthened my own beliefs, which I always strived to base on personal findings and facts, along with other likeminded people's experience. And I'd rather take the general brunt and simply say 'I don't know", than embellish. Also, when I am wrong, I am wrong: it happens to the best of us and it's always either immediately edited and explained or taken full responsibility for.

What I do know with a reasonable degree of certainty is that These Two are together. And this is all that matters to me, justifying my presence here.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. There's more, but here is just an overview of the sentiments that prompted my next investigation.

[hrdenha]

...touch me, puppy | s.jy

synopsis: The sounds of his groans made its way through your ears and echoed to the walls. Pride swells up on your chest at the fact, that the untouchable and elusive, Sim Jaeyun is now on your couch whimpering and pleading for your touches. He looks like a guy you want full control of thus, you can't blame the other girls for wanting him, after all, you also want the same thing.

pairings: shytype!sim jaeyun x softdom!reader

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. jake's celibacy from sexual endeavors 🤭 reader and jake using her undies in some ways thus, panty kink (?) shy and soft jake. pen*tration, unpr*tective s*x, wrap it up guys!

— AUTHOR'S NOTE: this should be publish on the upcoming weekdays but it's currently our hell week and school is also kicking my ass for the last time before we go home for christmas. so, i decided to just drop this. hope y'all enjoy ❣️

"Seriously, Y/N? Do you even realize what you're saying right now?"

You hum in agreement, eyes looking straight to that man who currently sitting on the sofa. He's not looking so comfortable with how stuck he looks while an unknown girl was trying to flirt with him.

Yeji groaned, still trying to give you some 'sense'. "I mean, Jake's not bad. He got the looks, and he got the brains. He also has sense of humor..." You hummed again, now, while nodding but still, watching on what the woman was doing with your target. "That's why a lot of girls want to take him to their bed but all of them failed. Rumor has it that he's still a virgin but it didn't even take a toll on his famed career. Girls doesn't care if he is. If all, knowing his a virgin just adds fuel to the fire. I wouldn't be surprised if he thinks that that woman was just trying to strike up a conversation with him instead of flirting with him. Jake is just... He's just, umm, how do I put this nicely? Nerdy... and innocent. Yeah."

You chuckled, "And, he's cute... I like him" then, you stopped to analyze what you just said but "... yeah, I like him." You mumbled again.

Your friend took a sharp gasp, all attention in you. "Wait... You mean LIKE like? Girl, may I remind you that a whole Lee Felix is waiting for you? Are you for real?"

"I don't like Felix, though. I don't like playboys." You said in a matter-fact tone, eyeing your friend to add thickness on your claim before looking back at Jake who's now talking with the woman. His head was now gently swaying from left to right obviously rejecting the unknown woman's advances.

Even if the place was loud and somehow dimmed because of the lights, you clearly see how the woman were annoyed before it left. You also saw how Jake sighed, his body finally relaxed after the encounter. He pushed up his specs, his eyes catching yours as he did so. You smiled, not breaking the eye contact, "... I always like the innocent looking ones"

It was almost a week after the party. In Yeji's surprise, you didn't make a move not even an attempt. After the eye contact, or in Yeji's perspective — after the unknown woman left, your friend convince you to strike a conversation but jake immediately avoided your eyes and you let him. You knew he was uncomfortable, and you don't want to push that so, you let him go do his thing. Not even glancing at his way again throughout that night.

"I'm still confused. I thought you like him?"

You hummed but didn't answer. You're busy trying to open a file on your laptop but it keeps crashing until a message box appear saying that you should wait for awhile. You clicked you tongue before pushing your swivel chair to the side where Yeji was, err, you don't know what position she has but she was comfortably laying on your sofa as she waited for your answer.

"I do. I like him. I told you, he's cute"

"So, why didn't you took the change to flirt with him?"

"Do I need to?"

Yeji unbelievably scoffed, as if she wants to give up, "What— but, I thought you like him?"

You shrugged, "Yeah, because I just thought he's cute"

"Oh, so you just like him? Not LIKE like?" She ask again.

Your forehead creased, slightly tilting your head to her. You seriously don't understand what Yeji was yapping about. You like Jake because you seriously think that he's cute. You're not sure if this is just a small crush, as of now, you're also trying to figure it out.

You were about to open your mouth to answer when your laptop and Yeji's phone produced a sound. Your eyes move to the screen where a text box flashed.

"Shit..." Your laptop got a virus. Talk about being unlucky.

"What happened?"

You sighed, shaking your head "Just my beloved laptop catching a virus"

"That sucks. What about your files? You backed it up, right?"

"Fortunately. What about you?"

"Nothing, just that Mr. Baek sends the partner composition for the final project this semester. Did you get it?"

"I didn't have my phone, charging. But, who'd I got?" You casually asked, still trying to get your laptop working.

There's a moment of silence, you reasoning with your device while Yeji trying to find your name from the lists. You were about to ask again when she suddenly shrek.

"What in the world happened to you?"

"You got Jake as your partner!" Yeji exclaimed all smiles.

"I did?"

"You fucking did!" She screamed again, standing up, walking, and then putting her phone under to your face. Letting your eyes be the one to confirm the information. Talk about being lucky.

—

Yeah, you're really lucky now that the elusive Sim Jaeyun is now on your apartment. After confirming the partnership about the project, you two decided to start the project today at your house. He slowly walks to your couch, putting down his things and trying not to meet your eyes.

"You can relax there, I'll just get us some foods" Jake nervously coughed trying to blur the silence before nodding. A smile crept in your lips but you tried to tone it down. He's just so cute, you can't help it!

After spending a few minutes, you finally step out of the kitchen with tray of food in hands. Putting it down, oblivious at the set of heavy eyes throwing a lingering look on your body as you did so.

"Is it okay if we use your laptop? Mine's got a virus."

"I dont... mind. You can use it." He whispered, eyes focused directly at you. Nodding, your hands took his laptop and put it in your lap. You clicked the button and the monitor automatically lights up, displaying the password bar in the screen. You silently face the laptop to Jake who's currently sitting beside you, his slender fingers typed the password with ease before pushing down the enter.

The laptop opened but instead of the home screen, the laptop automatically displays a tab from the browser. The four walls of the room were now filled with moans from the speaker of the said device.

Jake mumbled a cursed, hands immediately taking the laptop from your lap and exiting the tab that cause a thick silence and awkwardness in between the two of you.

You look at his side, his whole face, some part of his neck and ears are now in shade of red. If he can't look straight in your eyes earlier, at this moment, you doubt Jake still know how to breath.

In an attempt to not further embarrassed him, your fingers travel on top of your lips trying to hide the curve smile that was playing on your lips, "I'll just get more water for us" You excused yourself taking the pitcher even if it was still half way full. It's the least you can do, giving him the solitude to calm himself.

When you come out for the second time, you decided to finally settle beside Jake to continue your business but to your surprise, the man immediately scoot away as if he just got burned by your presence.

You eyed him in shock which jake also did albeit, he's more on a nervous side.

What did I do? Is he that disturbed by my presence?

The silence that made its position between the four walls of living room from the very start became more palpable though you decided it was enough, "I think—" You started carefully, trying not to spook him. Heck, you're not even looking at him, just keeping your eyes in front scared that you might scare him even more. Although, you saw how jake focus his eyes on you from your peripheral. You realized that this is the second time— since he walked inside your abode, that he looked at you straight. You felt slightly pleased at the manner in which he looks at you, yet the way he averted his body played on your mind again causing you to shun the positive emotions away.

"I think, It would be better if... we just divide the tasks and work in it separately. I'm sorry for wasting your time" You repeated, loud and clear. No one said anything after that, room filled with silence once again. You were about to stand up and walk away when a hand gripped your wrist, pulling you back.

The unexpected impact made you loss your balance. And the next thing you knew, you were on top of Jake. On his lap, to be exact while both of you positioned like sitting and laying on the couch at the same time.

"I-I'm sorry..." He uttered trying to scoot away from you, again.

And before you can even think, words started pouring out of your mouth, "Do you hate me?"

Jake was stunned, his body freezing under you before meeting your eyes, "What? No!"

"Do I make you uneasy?"

He, again, shook his head before answering, "Of course not!" in a defensive voice.

"Then, why—"

"You make me nervous!" He said in large voice. "not in a bad way, though. It's always in a good way. You're just so different. You're beautiful and smart and I... I like you. I like you so so much. I like you ever since I saw you last year in freshmen orientation. I like you so much that when you look at me last week at the party, I started think about... things with you. I can't help it, its just—"

"Is that the reason why you're watching porn in the middle of the day?" You asked, cutting him off. A sly smile, that you didn't try to hide this time — is now displayed on your lips.

"I-I'm so—" You hushed him, putting your index on his lips. His pinkish, plump, and kissable lips. You sighed when his bulge starting to let its presence known under you. He's turned on.

"You sure I don't make you uncomfy?" You asked again which he immediately answered with a shake of head. "No..." He whispered, his hot breath making contact with your neck.

You stand up taking a step back and putting a distance between the two of you, just enough for your eyes to hug his presence. The action made Jake confused, in fact, his hands didn't leave your wrist even though there's a reasonable distance in between the both of you. In his eyes, a lot of emotions are playing. Disappointment... Doubt... Awe... Lust?

You silently put your hands inside your shirt, unclipping your bra before sliding the straps on your arms and finally disregarding it somewhere. Jake silently watching you, mouth slightly ajar, eyes observing your actions as your hand touched his clothed dick. After a few touches, your hands travel on his waist. He lets you unbuttoned it, taking off his underwear and pants completely causing his hardened to sprang forward.

You look at his dick in surprise. Oh! look. at. that. His face and ears weren't the only red on his body, that's for sure. It was twitching, his tip in the painful color of red, plus the precum oozing on its tip. You're not a masochist, you know how painful it is to be exposed and not touched. You knew how Jake wanted to be touched just by how his dick twitch, hips slightly buckling up when your breaths made in contact with it. He's, maybe, a 6 inch with a good thickness. You want to lick it, to touch it. You really do. His dick is so pretty. The way his pubes were cut clean tells you more about him and you don't mind spending your time with it in your mouth but not before you drop the million dollar question.

Jake watches with a heavy eyes as you climb on top of him in straddling position.

"Tell me what you want..." You can feel his dick on top of your pussy even though you're still wearing your cotton shorts. You wanted to move your hips but controlled yourself. "What do you want right now, Jake?" You ask again looking down at him, his mouth slightly open ajar as he met your eyes. "You. I want you, Y/N... please"

You smiled giving him a peck. Jake must've been expecting a different kiss from the way his lips tried to chase yours. You smiled, not yet. He groaned in response but you paid him no mind. You kneel in front of him, in front of his dick and you didn't waste your time. Your hands immediately grip it, tongue making contact on his tip which you tease wholeheartedly. Jake's moans poured out of his lips together with a curse moreover, when you finally took him inside your mouth.

With the way your tongue play with his shaft, his tip hitting your throat, and how your mouth suck the life out of him, Jake's groans and moans intensifies as well. You look up to him, eyes fluttering behind your long lashes. The man was vocal, his groans are making you wet. You can feel the heat between your legs increases in every suck you did and moans that came out of jake's mouth. Your eyes met, and you can't help but to chuckle on how fucked up he looks which by the way, send vibration to his cock. He was trying to look at you, to imprint how you suck him on the deepest part of his mind yet he can't help but to close his eyes and lose himself in the pleasure... in you.

"Shit, Y/N... yes, that— that feels good" He moaned again, "I'm gonna..." You felt his hips meeting your mouth causing you to pick up you pace. And with his last groan, he cummed. His thick and white cum flooded your senses, you swallowed it before sucking him again.

"You're so... beautiful" He mumbled breathlessly, eyes boring from the way you lick him clean. His dick was still hard and hot, even after cumming, his dick refused to soften up.

You smiled, before you crawl up to him. Jake was focused on you, on your lips to be exact. He wanted to kiss you, and you let him. You gently clash your lips with his, letting his tongue explore your caverns as you tease his cock with your hands. Jake groaned in between your make out session, tasting his own cum on your mouth did unspeakable things inside him.

"Please, I need to be inside you... please. please." He whispered as he kissed your lips, saying it like a prayer over and over again, hoping his goddess would make his wish come true. And, what can a goddess do but to answer his prayer?

With that, you straddle him again, "You mind if I'll do everything myself?" You asked which came out as a whimper when you directly felt his dick on your tight pussy after taking off your shorts and panties, before straddling him. Jake looks up as you allowed him to take in your body. To let his brain register that a woman is willingly giving her body to him. His head shook before answering a breathless 'no'.

"Tell me, jake... are you a virgin?" You asked again, kissing his checks then his lips. "No... but ever since I saw you, I stopped. It's been a year since." He sighed, eyes closed as he feels the way your sinful lips travel dow his neck, adorning it with bites.

"So, I'm the first in awhile?" He nodded again. "And, hopefully the last." You chuckled at his words. You pulled back looking down at him, your eyes took his visuals in.

Jake looks good. He always is. He looks cute with his specs on, a small amount of sweat on his forehead after the stunt you two pulled earlier. He's wearing a casual long sleeve that has a black collar. The longsleeve has a patterns of horizontal lines with an alternate color of black, white, and red. his neck was adorned with a simple yet elegant silver necklace. His hair was soft, not to mention his lips. That sinful swollen lips of his. He looks hot and irresistible. You can't blame the other girls who wanted him by themselves. You also want the same thing.

At that thought, pride swelled up on your chest. Letting yourself fall in temptation of kissing him deeply again while hips slowly thrusting to create a friction. Your hands pull up your top that perfectly hugs your curves to completely expose yourself to jake as you rub onto him.

Pulling back from the kiss, you finally lift yourself, hands gripping his shaft as his tip scratch on your folds. Letting him know how wet you are because of him.

Jake moaned, still looking at you. He won't close his eyes, he wouldn't miss this for the world. He just want to slam your body down his cock but he control himself. The fact that you're the one in charge is making him crazy.

You gently aligned his tip on your whole, allowing your wetness to naturally push him inside you. His breath hardened, groans getting fuller and louder when you finally let yourself down his cock.

You moaned, head tilting back when you felt his thickness. "You felt thicker now than earlier on my mouth. Fuck, Jake... you felt good"

His dick twitched inside you and in response, you felt your legs shaking. Jake's breath pick up it's pace, his hard breathes filling the room. "You're not going to cum, Aren't you?" He shook his head, answering a 'no' with bated breath. You hummed, smiling down to him as your hands slowly took his glasses off before putting it down on the side table.

He looks handsome, as always. And the way he looks up to you with such innocence in his eyes is turning you on even more. You pushed yourself for a kiss which he accepted gladly, allowing the both of you to be engrossed by each others tastes.

Clenching him painfully inside, jake groaned again. "Fuck... so tight" You start going up and down on his cock. Pleasure starting to build up as you did so. But then, you noticed something. He's not touching you. His hands softly and were carefully pleased on your sides as if he's scared to fully lay his hands on your body.

You took jake's palm, slowly sliding it upwards to your body and onto your breast, persuading him to hold you.

"You can touch me, it's okay..."

"I'm just shy—"

"Don't be, don't be shy. You can touch me, puppy. It's okay" You said in assurance hips continuously fucking yourself in his dick. And, he did. Jake deliciously gripped your bossom, teasing your nipples after. And to your surprise, Jake took your left breast in his mouth while the right was still on his hand. His tongue plays with your erect nipple, biting it hard enough that adds on your pleasure causing you to moan.

"I don't mind if you leave a mark. I would even gladly accept it" You whispered, chuckling on how hard he sucked your breast.

"Does it feel good?" You ask, keeping up your pace. The man under you whimper in response, and you can't help but to kiss him messy again. After a while, an idea sparks your mind.

"Let's try a new position, puppy" You immediately laid on your back, a pillow supporting your upper body as it leans on the arm rest of the couch. "Come here, and fuck me" You said again, as your legs invite him in between.

Jake got on top, kissing you again while letting you strip him his remaining clothes. You pulled his shirt up before pulling him closer to you together with his dick sliding inside as he started rutting you.

Your hand made contact with your lacey panties. Jake's still observing you and swear that he saw the mischief writing on your eyes as you push the garment up to his nose.

"Smell it if you're a good puppy, Jake." You render, trying to stabilize your voice from the bliss of his thrusts. "Are you my good puppy?" You ask again, teasingly. He obliged, sniffing it. Taking a good whiff off of it. You smell good, the fabric is soaked with your pussy's natural smell and he knew that he's addicted. Jake was turned on even more, even taking a mental note of wanting to eat you later.

You relased a breathy chuckle, and silently inserted it into Jake's neck which made his dick twitch inside. "So, you like this? I can't believe how perverted my puppy is." You teased, chuckling again as Jake's cheeks get redder. You pulled the red dainty garment down making him kiss you.

"Red really suits you, jake." After those words, you felt how his thrust becomes sharper and harder. "Ugh! Tight..." He moaned, "Fuck me, jake. Yes, please harder!"

He picked up his pace, who would've taught the elusive sim jaeyun fucking you hard with his thick, veiny, and long cock? Fuck, the pleasure was intense. You can't help but scream, basking yourself in pleasure itself. The room was filled with groans and skin slapping now more than ever.

Your walls clench him tightly at the same time you feel something building up on your lower abdomen, "Jake! Ugh, I'm gonna—! Come inside!" And, then you screamed, the same time you cum. You don't care if your neighbors can hear you. You don't fucking care. Jake continues to thrust, as you are slowly being overstimulated while he rides your orgasm.

"Shit! Y/N!" You felt another wave building up on your abdomen together with how your legs uncontrollably shake. "J-jake!" You cried, eyes keeping close at the intense pleasure. With the last curse and thrust, you came for the second time as you felt him filling you up to the brim with both his cock and cum, giving you a creampie. His thick load painted your walls as he collapsed on top of you.

"That's a good puppy..." You whispered in his ears, brushing his hair as you felt his cum slowly oozing out and down of your hole. "You're a good puppy." Mumbling the last words and a pair of lips kissing your neck was the only thing you felt before darkness got you.

share me your thoughts 💭 likes, reblogs, and comments are very much appreciated!

purely fiction.

© hrdenha - 2023

[dustandshadows-if]

Waking up in an alleyway covered in blood and with no memories is not a situation anyone wishes to find themselves in, yet here you are. With no other options, you're forced to run. From what? You're not entirely sure but you do know that if they catch you you'll find yourself suffering a fate far worse than death.

And so you run not knowing that running was quite literally going to make your life Hell. Now you have a monster in the shadows hunting you and a group of Shadowhunters, demon killers, claiming that you alone are responsible for a string of murders.

The worst part? You have no idea if you're innocent.

No memories, no allies, and no idea who you are the only thing you can do is try to find a way to prove your innocence before it is too late.

Somewhat customizable appearance (hair type and color, complexion, height, build). Mc does have a set eye color.

Four Romance Options (Two gender selectable options, one nonbinary option, and one female option)

Rediscover the life you lost or make a new one

Try to out run your past

Be an enemy of the clave (and well everyone)<3

Be severely behind on the politics of the shadow world

Oh and a voice that is very much not your own in your head

16+. Content warnings for implied torture, violence, swearing, child abuse/neglect, murder. This list will be updated as development continues

Ianira Clarke aka Nira | Age: ??? | Non-Binary | Warlock (Ro)

The high warlock of Seattle and one of the only friends that you have. Not that they would willing call you a friend, but that's besides the point. They've made sure to take care of you whenever you need help and have been working tirelessly to help you figure out what exactly happened to you. A good friend and an even greater ally; without Nira, you would've been dead on the street months ago.

Juliette Monroe | Age: 18 | Female | Vampire (Ro)

The very first person you met that didn't immediately want to kill you. She's the one who told you everything you need to know about the shadow world. Despite only being a vampire for a year she's managed to gain a good bit of fame throughout the shadow world of Seattle anyone who is anyone knows Juliette, but you're one of the lucky few who gets to actually know her. She's got a soft spot for you, but she'd rather walk into the sun than ever admit it.

Quinn Highsmith | Age: 19 | Gender Selectable | Shadowhunter (Ro)

One of the many that are hunting you. Honestly, they're so bad at catching you that one might think they're leading everyone astray on purpose... They claim to know you, but you have no memory of them. Part of you knows there was once something between the two of you, love that would've moved mountains with the way they still look at you. But that's in the past. Now, they're just another obstacle in your way, stopping you from proving your innocence.

Farrah Ashdown | Age: 19 | Gender Selectable | Shadowhunter (Ro)

Another shadowhunter and another person stopping you from clearing your name. Maybe in another life, you would've been able to truly know them for the kind and genuine person they seem to be. You'll almost never see them stray from Quinn's side. Their undying loyalty and desire for justice has made one of the nicest people to walk this Earth, your worst enemy.

Demo | Playlist | Pinterest

[blond-jerk-tourney]

Blond Sweetheart Tourney: Round 3, Poll 13

Propaganda from submitters Under Cut

Laios Touden

He cares about his sister so much he was willing to solo a red dragon to rescue her. He doesn't care about money, power, or fame, he just wants to help his sister and learn about monsters. He might seem weird and offputting, but his deepest desire is to find a way for people and monsters to live in peace together to make life better for everyone. One of his biggest faults is he assumes the best of everyone.

Laios is already winning, but I'd like to point out that he's kind despite the fact that pretty much everyone (sometimes including his own party!) treat him with suspicion or outright hostility? It's not just Shuro and Kabru; it's everyone who contemplates what he might do as Lord of the Dungeon, the village kids when he was growing up, Chilchuck repeatedly treating him as an outright threat. Everyone hates Laios, but he doesn't sink to their level.

Louis James Moriarty

Devoted to a fault. Burned his face to prove his loyalty to his brothers. Tries extremely hard to keep not one but *two* mansions in pristine, clean condition with no household staff (well, a gardener an a colonel who dirtiest the London house and will not do chores) because he knows that Albert's OCD requires cleanliness and because it's something "useful" he can do. All he wants is to be useful. Louis is a sweetheart and deserves to be loved forever.

He's exceptionally caring towards his brothers and his "found family"

Louis was a young, orphan boy with a heart condition. Louis lived in an orphanage whose money had been slightly mismanaged and who was rationing food to the kids. A different kid noticed the lack of food, and was still hungry after devouring their plate. They wanted seconds, but there were none. And Louis gave them his plate. His plate of firsts. He didn't even He downplays his literal heart condition so as to not cause his brother, Will, too much worry. He doesn't ask for treatment, or a better lot in life, or anything. He asks to not be left alone. More than anything, that's all he is afraid of: being left alone, even after he lives through surgery as a Victorian child and gets better. So, vote Louis, don't leave him alone. He has us, his fans. Who I am sure he can't even process that we exist, because he's always seeing the good qualities of others instead of himself, and he, like William, deserves our love as well.

VOTE LOUIS‼️‼️ He deserves to go far after his brother got absolutely sweeped 💀

Louis James Moriarty is SO incredibly kind and sweet. He constantly goes out of his way to take care of his brothers. As mentioned in the propaganda, Louis keeps TWO mansions clean for his brother Albert. Louis consistently shows care for his brother William as well. William has fainting spells and falls asleep at random times. Louis is ALWAYS there to make sure that William is okay and taken care of while he's asleep. Louis and William lived on the street for some amount of time as orphans, and during this time, Louis would have to watch over William while he had a sleeping spell. Louis went out of his way to interact with a man that he hates to keep his brother safe. He is so sweet and kind. He constantly goes out of his way for others, especially for his siblings!!

louis, on the other hand, is devoted greatly to his brothers, a great cook, might seem indifferent at times but is actually very sweet. he has had great character development and has gone from living as his brother's shadow to actually living for himself. he keeps two mansions clean because he knows his eldest brother feels frustrated in a disorganised place, is practically the scabbard for the two brothers if one's a shield and the other a sword. see the scar on his face? that's something he willingly did to himself so he could prove his undying loyalty to his brothers and their cause. he must have gone through and felt huge amounts of pain and grief since one brother was allegedly dead and the other was imprisoned. yet he moved on forward with the best of his abilities even though i'm sure he wanted nothing more than to breakdown at times. so, yeah. vote for louis.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Dungeon: The Tithing House

For decades the gang of highwaymen known as the Gallerwood Outlaws were famed and feared for equal measure, melting out of the forest to rob merchants, nobles, even mages, before vanishing back into the trees. Even after their awful deaths at the hand of a bountyhunter some years ago folk still sing of their deeds, and of the secret hideaway in which they stored their ill gotten gains.

Adventure Hooks:

Folk have been saying that the ghosts of the Gallerwood outlaws have been stalking the roads near where their bodies were hanged, still looking for one last haul. The party are tasked with investigating rumours after a fearful carter was set upon by these spectres, losing something precious in the process. This provides the excellent framing for a first adventure as each member of the party can be invested in retrieving something different out of the carter's cargo giving them a reason to work in the same direction.

As they investigate, the party will discover that these ghosts are infact local toughs who have dressed up and painted themselves phosphorescent cave lichen in order to shake down passers by. After giving them a thrashing and a Scooby-Doo unmasking, the party can retrieve the stolen goods and return to the inn for celebratory drinking. In the dead of night one of the party awakens to a shadowy figure looming at the foot of their bed, spectral face illuminated by the ghoul-light that flickers in the bowl of their pipe. Evidently the story of the party's antics has spread, and it appears one of the real ghosts of the Gallerwood wants a word.

Frauds and phantoms aside,  entirely possible for the party to stumble across the dungeon while exploring the surrounding swampland, only realizing it served as a bandit hideout after stumbling into the remnants of their camp. 

Setup: The ghost introduces himself as the late Cullen Carver, once founding and now final member of the Gallerwood outlaws. Cullen has an offer for the party, and is willing to guide them to the cache kept by his fellow bandits if they will perform for him a last request. As Cullen explains it, neither he nor the other outlaw spirits will be able to rest so long as there is no end to their tale, and there can be no end so long as the mystery of their hidden treasure remains unsolved in the common imagination.

Cullen is in high spirits despite being dead, so the party should expect some gallows humour as the hanged man leads them through the swamp's hazards, eventually arriving at the outlaw's secret base: The Tithing House, a long abandoned temple of Erathis concealed within the depths of the wilderness that's become infested with all sorts of mire creatures since the thieves met their end.

Challenges & Complications:

The Outlaws kept their treasure in the temple's crypts, and to access these the part are going to need to venture through the gauntlet of dark chambers and traps the bandits set up to keep eachother's hands out of the cookie jar. Cullen can help with some of these, but the whole point of the traps was to keep his fellow thieves honest. The only other way into the vault is through a heavily reinforced door, the key to which is currently in the possession of the bountyhunter who hung the Gallerwoods from trees in the firstplace.

While the party has the pick of spoils, Cullen points out a particular chest kept apart from the rest and calls upon them to fulfill their end of the bargain. This chest was Cullen's nestegg, put aside from numerous heists and robberies to be delivered to his wife and children in the event of his death. With no surviving highwaymen to carry out the promise Cullen's REAL unfinished business comes to light. The party can keep their word, or they can snipe the treasure for themselves, earning the spectre's undying enmity and curse to boot.

To get out of the the Tithing House the party will need to face off with a demon of avarice.. but not in the traditional form of bossfight. He'll approach just as they're leaving the dungeon, taking the form of a plump old man with a grandfatherly smile who wears the spotless robes of an Erathian friar despite the flooded cemetery in which they stand. He is all calm words and politeness, congratulating them on making off with such a fine haul and urging them to never mind that silly old ghost and his wishes, banishing Cullen beneath a nearby grave so that they can talk cordially. The Smiling Friar explains that he had a deal with the highwaymen; feeding off the greed of their crimes in exchange for concealing their hideaway and passage through the forest. There's no reason the party couldn't renew the deal, become the new band of legendary thieves, save that they'll have to forsake their ghostly guide and his last act of charity. Should they turn him down the Smiling Friar will call up the dead of the cemetery to slaughter them, clearing the way for the next band of ambitious treasurehunters.

Art 1 Art 2

[deliciousangelfestival]

Undying Love || Bucky

Character : Assasin!Bucky x Assasin!Reader

Words Count: 1,490

Summary: Bucky, a famed assassin, retired to his hometown after a mistaken cancer diagnosis. Unbeknownst to him, his nemesis followed him, determined to claim her place as the number one assassin.

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Bucky Barnes, the world's most feared assassin, felt a sinking dread as he read the words on the medical report: "Cancer." His life of shadows and violence had finally caught up to him. He decided to return to his quiet hometown, seeking solace in his childhood memories before the inevitable.

Little did Bucky know his nemesis, Y/N, had followed him. Clad in sleek leather and a steely gaze, she was determined to claim the title of "Number One Assassin" by taking him down. She shadowed Bucky relentlessly, a constant ghost reminding him of the fight he couldn't escape.

One day, Y/N finally cornered Bucky. Knives clashed, sparks flew, but Bucky's movements were sluggish, his strength sapped by the illness. He knew he needed to end this fight, but not with violence. A sudden idea struck him.

With a swift movement, Bucky closed the distance between them and kissed Y/N. The kiss was unexpected, electrifying, and disarmed Y/N completely.

"Why did you do that?" she sputtered, her cheeks flushed.

Bucky smirked. "You're my type, Y/N."

Y/N narrowed her eyes. "Don't try to charm your way out of this. You're not getting away with this, Bucky."

Bucky's smile faltered. "Please do," he whispered. "Release me from this misery."

His words made her caught off guard, she had never seen him give up this quick. "Are you alright?"

"I'm sick," he confessed, the words heavy on his tongue.

The revelation hung in the air, a bridge built between two sworn enemies. Y/N saw the pain and vulnerability beneath Bucky's hardened exterior.

From that day on, a fragile truce settled between them. Y/N, unable to bear watching him suffer, found herself becoming his caretaker.

As the days turned into weeks, Y/N's presence in Bucky's life became more than a duty. He looked forward to her visits, shared meals, and their quiet moments. He began to see her not just as his nemesis but as a woman who made him laugh, soothed his soul, and made him feel alive again.

One day, he gathered the courage and made an appointment for another checkup. He needed to know for sure. As he sat in the sterile waiting room, anxiety gnawed at him.

What if the results were the same?

What if he had less time than he thought?

The doctor finally called his name. Bucky felt his heart pound in his chest as he entered the room. The doctor's expression was grave, his voice solemn as he spoke.

"Mr. Barnes," the doctor began, "I have some good news. It appears there was an error in your previous tests. You do not have cancer."

Relief flooded Bucky's body, so intense it almost knocked him off his feet. He could breathe again, truly breathe. He had a second chance, a future to look forward to.

But amidst the joy, a new fear took root.

If Y/N found out, would she leave?

Would she feel betrayed, used, or lied to?

The thought was unbearable. The woman who had become his lifeline, his reason to smile, could vanish instantly.

So, Bucky made a choice. He kept the truth hidden. He returned home, a silent struggle raging within him. The joy of his health was tainted by the guilt of his deception.

He saw Y/N waiting for him, her eyes filled with concern. She had prepared his favorite meal, a small act of love that tore at his heart. He sat down, a mask of normalcy plastered on his face.

As they ate, he forced himself to smile, to laugh at her jokes, to pretend everything was fine. All the while, a part of him withered, the weight of his lie crushing him from the inside.

He knew he couldn't live like this forever. He had to tell her the truth, no matter the consequences. But until then, he would savor each moment with her, each stolen laugh, each shared sunset. He would hold onto the fragile peace she had brought into his life, even if it was built on a foundation of lies.

One day, Y/N stumbled upon a discarded medical report. The truth hit her like a bullet. Bucky wasn't sick. The doctor had read the wrong file.

Y/N was furious. She felt betrayed, lied to. But as she looked at him, sleeping peacefully in his bed, her anger melted away. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I'm so relieved you're healthy."

Bucky woke up to her touch. Guilt washed over him. He had been so afraid of losing her that he had kept the truth hidden.

Bucky felt tears prick his eyes. "I...I was afraid," he choked out. "I was afraid of losing you. I thought that if you knew the truth, you would leave me."

Y/N looked at him, her anger slowly melting away into understanding. "Bucky," she said softly, "why didn't you just tell me you were afraid? We could have faced it together."

Bucky shook his head. "I didn't want to burden you. You were already taking care of me, doing everything you could to help. I didn't want to add to your worries."

Y/N placed a hand over his. "Bucky," she said, her voice gentle but firm, "you are not a burden. You are the man I love. And I would do anything for you, anything at all."

Bucky looked into her eyes, his heart filled with gratitude and love. "I love you too, Y/N," he whispered. "More than words can express."

As their lips met, a tear escaped Y/N's eye, tracing a shimmering path down her cheek. Bucky felt it against his skin, a testament to the depth of her emotions. He chuckled softly, the sound warm and inviting.

"Funny," he murmured, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes. "Who would have thought it would come to this? You, wanting to kill me, and now...saying you love me."

A playful glint entered Y/N's eyes. "Didn't you say I was your type?" she teased, rolling her eyes playfully.

Bucky grinned, his heart overflowing with a joy he had never known. He had faced death and lived in the shadows, but it was Y/N who had indeed shown him the light.

Bucky pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her like a warm embrace. Y/N leaned into his touch, her heart beating perfectly with his.

At that moment, they were two souls intertwined, their pasts forgotten, their future a blank canvas waiting to be painted with love and laughter.

-The End-

Author Note :

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Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

[seehisbriefs]

Oh, poor Michael. His graduation day was supposed to be all about celebrating his hard work, but instead, it turned into a comedy show with him as the star. As his name got called, he walked onto the stage, and everyone's jaws dropped. There he was in nothing but his tighty whities and white socks, his face all red and shocked, looking like he wanted to vanish right then and there.

The crowd couldn't believe it. They burst out laughing as Michael, in his bright white briefs, tried to bend over and hide, but there was nothing to hide behind. His classmates in their fancy robes were laughing so hard, pointing at him, and making it clear to everyone that Michael was the guy in his undies.

One of his buddies even held onto Michael's graduation robe, waving it around like a flag, making Michael's embarrassment even bigger. Every time someone said "tighty whities," Michael probably wished he could just sink into the ground. People were taking pictures, and the whispers and giggles chased him all the way off the stage.

Michael's tighty whities moment became the talk of the town, turning his big day of pride into a day where his white undies got all the fame instead.