#also i have a sore throat and it's kicking my ASS

[aliveinacoffin]

Kinda request

hi! I just wanted to ask if u could write a fic of any fandom and character of ur choosing! I enjoy reading your fics so much and I would love to read one of your own liking! Thank you and have a great day <333

i love you guys so much i literally would eat a baby for you guys PLS 😭😭 decided to write a gta v fic with micheal because GYATT damn do I love him, also sorry this took so long, I have like, a trillion fics to write 🥲

Wedding Ring

You knew Micheal was married with a wife and kids, and that he went through hell and back to keep them safe and alive. When he goes off this crazy adventure and he has to hide from the cops, where does he go? That's right, the woman who he has been sharing a bed with the last four years.

Fem!Reader: She/Her pronouns and descriptions

TW!: NSFW, cheating, ghosting, manipulation

It was a nice and sunny day, something that was usual for a city like Los Santos. Still, you took advantage of this fact. You were lounging in your backyard with nothing but a swimsuit on, trying to suntan in peace with your music playing loud as possible, enjoying the feeling of the sun's hot rays on your skin. 

That peace was quickly disrupted.

"Why the fuck are you playing music so god damn loud?" A familiar gruff voice barked from behind you. You snapped your eyes open, quickly sitting up to see the offender who disrupted your peace and broke into your house.

"Oh Michael." You groaned, laying back down on the white pool chair. The separated plastic part of the white chair dug in a satisfying way into your back.

"Seriously, Jesus it's eleven in the morning." Michael stumbled over to your phone, angrily smashing the side buttons.

"Damn who shit in your cereal? Or maybe drink would be better." You scoffed, pissed that he was even here. The old man hadn't contacted you in months, ghosting you after he fucked you in some shitty motel near sandy shores. 

"An old friend of mine and my whole fuckin' family." Michael mumbled, and you watched him behind your black sunglasses approach the bottom of your sunbleached chair, resting his hands on your ankles. He looked down, light green eyes watching his hands trave circles in your ankles. With his motions, his gold wedding ring glittered in the California sun.

"Why are you here?" You asked, not bothering to move from your position hands resting on your stomach. Your fingers suddenly felt very bare.

"I just wanted to see you, is that such a crime?" He shrugged, but his hands started to trail higher, now rubbing on your calfs. 

"Well, aside from the fact you haven't spoken to me in months, let a lone texted me. No, I guess not." You pulled your legs away, sitting on the side of the long chair. You still watched him, hands grabbing tightly on the metal, burning the palms of your hands.

"You know how it is, life gets in the way." He tried to wave you off, shrugging his shoulders. Michael had already taken off his suit jacket, white shirt looking grey with your vision. So he expected you to just hop on his dick right away?

"Yeah, I'm sure it does. With your wife and family keeping you busy." You got up, walking over to grab your phone and speaker.

Michael didn't say anything to that, instead he just watched you. He silently followed you inside, stopping you from closing the sliding glass door on him.

"Seriously Michael, why are you here?" You growled at him, not bothering to spare a glance back at him. You stopped at your sink, resting your knuckles on the metal appliance. His heavy footsteps followed you, and through the window above the sink you saw him come up behind you, watching you.

"I just have a lot of stress, and my therapy is always telling me to get rid of it." Michael's large hands rested on your hips, still watching your face.

"Then go to your wife. I'm obviously not anybody to you." You looked down, unable to meet his watchful gaze. Instead, you regrettable made eye contact with his ring. "Go home, go to your fuckin' over priced shitty therapist and your shitty family that your always whining about." You snapped, but you made no motion to move away from his hands.

"They left me." He admitted lowly, and that made you look up. Michael was not an honest man, he was a lying hypocrite who constantly cheated on his wife. He was always the type to skirt around the truth when it harmed him and constantly complained when he could. The man had left a life of crime, that much you knew, and ever since had regretted it.

"Why?" You asked softly, making eye contact with him again in the window. It was hard to see him, with your glasses and the bright sun outside, so you opted to take them off, making the appeal of Michael much clearer. Though, you couldn't stand stand look at him.  Michael loved making eye contact with you, for a reason you never knew. But it absolutely pained you to watch his eyes fill with want and desperation. 

"I'm not a good man. I chase things that I'll never get, things I can never keep." He leaned over your back, breathing into your neck. He pushed your hips back, pulling you flush against him. His hands wormed their way under the elastic of your bottom, rubbing and pinching the fat there. He pressed gentle kisses into your neck, lightly nipping the skin that was presented to him.

"Is that right? What about the things you have?" You knew for Michael no matter what he did, no matter what he got, nothing would ever be good enough for him. The perfect life he could have in his own expensive mansion is ruined by his own self hate and incompetence. 

He just scoffed at that, like the very notion of his luxury car and permanent retirement from life was so hard, something to just be brushed off like nothing.

"What about me? When will I stop being enough? Or have I already?" You asked, stopping his movements. He had already gotten the strings halfway down your ass, reaching just the top part of your bottom. Michael stilled, unmoving against your warm body.

"No, I can never get enough of you. I had to work on my marriage, but I never stopped thinking about you." Michael admitted, and that made your head hung low. You knew he was prone to just saying whatever would get him into your pants. He always knew what to say the exact words that would make you drop to your knees.

"Or maybe because I'm some pretty young thing who won't give you crabs." You tried to lighten the mood, tried to tease to cover up the aching hole the older man had unknowingly made inside you. He had created a Michael shaped hole in your heart that made you mourn during random hours of the day, and when he would fill it in the late hours of the night it soothed your bleeding heart.

"Hah, maybe." That made you tear up, eyes fluttering while he slipped off your bottoms, groping you fully. You could feel his hard on pressing into you, demanding its way onto you.

He slipped two calloused fingers down, tracing up and down your slit, gathering the wetness that has accrued.

"You act so fucking bratty, but you're so god damn wet." He barked in your ear, mocking you as he slipped a finger in. You sighed, rocking back against his fingers, wanting, needing more. Who knows when the next time he'll come back? 

If ever.

"Come on, you know I can handle way more than that." You rushed, wanting to just get this over with and never wanting this to end.

He tugged on your hair, pulling at your scalp.

"Don't rush me, just shut up and look pretty." Michael's past actions would attest to that, he loved it when you argued, when you threw fits and pouted, he loved every minute of it. Because he knew that if he pushed you for enough, you'd beg for his cock, you'd be crying and whining for it, you'd be crying for him.

Michael never was the one to love a submissive woman, would he like to have one? Sure, any man would. But after a while it would get boring, there'd be no angry sex, no makeup sex, there'd be no back talk for him to shut up. Plus, it would be like speaking to a void, nothing important would actually be said, just a blank woman who agreed to everything and anything.

"Then fuck me silly, hey, that rhymed!" You laughed, before a moan got caught in your throat. Two more fingers shoved themselves into you, stretching you out quickly. It would've hurt more if you weren't already wet and near painfully horny. In truth, Michael was the only man you've slept with in a while. You've had flings with other people, maybe one or two serious relationships thrown in, but when you met Michael, an old depressed angry father, right up your alley might you add, at that disgusting old bar, well, everything and everyone else was thrown out the window. Then, you started seeing each other regularly, you dropped all the people you were talking to, even the sweet girl who had really taken an interest in you, and he had stopped going to cheap hookers, instead going to you solely to satisfy his sins.

He said nothing in response, merely just resuming his harsh treatment of your body, curling his fingers inside you beautifully, his memorization of your body never once faded. Your moans grew louder, curling into your counter until your stomach pressed painfully into the sharp edge.

"Just put it in me already, you old fuck." You spat, trying to push back against him. Michael pulled his fingers out, slapping your ass painfully.

"Watch your mouth when you're begging for my cock." He growled, nonetheless, he pulled down his zipper dutifully and fished himself out. He slid himself up and down your slit  wetting himself with your juices, bumbling and pressing into your clit over and over again. It drove you absolutely crazy, unable to buck and finally just put himself into you. You arched, trying to entice him as much as you could, white knuckle gripping the sink. 

Finally, finally he slowly slid into you, and you both let out a low groan. Michael must've been impatient, since he thrusted his way fully into you, filling you so fast it felt like he was in your ribs.

"Fuh-fuck Micky." You whined, and he wrapped his arms around your middle section and boobs, holding you tight while he absolutely rammed into you. Usually, because of his age and inactivity, he preferred to be on the bottom, let you do all the work. But he must've missed you, maybe he was pent up, or maybe he was taking his anger out on you. Either way, it felt heavenly, his thick cock ramming into you, feeling him drag inside you in and out at a brutal pace, not allowing you to think. 

"Of course you like that, huh? Like my cock inside you, treating you like some cheap slut." He growled in your ear, and it would've made you wetter than you already were if you couldn't feel the cool metal digging into your boob. The reminder of what it meant searing into your soul. You hummed lowly, darting your eyes away from him, finding the counter suddenly interesting. Michael seemed to sense your mood shift, and slowed down, but he never stopped. Instead taking to shallow thrusts inside you.

"What's wrong?" He asked, more annoyance in his voice than care.

"Nothing, why'd you slow down?" You lied through your teeth, trying to buck your hips and resume his pace. But he held you tight and close, even if Michael never really worked out, and was closer to fifty than forty, he still had years worth of muscles underneath.

"Because your poutin', now tell me what's wrong?" He asked again, tone sharp and asking to be tested.

"Your ring." You spat out, feeling slightly ashamed.

"What about my ring?" Michael snapped at you, fully stopping his movements.

"It's digging into me." You knew that wasn't the only thing that bothered you, it haunted you almost everyday knowing you were technically a homewrecker. He had two kids and a wife waiting at home for him, and even if he complained about them, even if both him and his wife cheated on each other constantly, it was still wrong. Usually when you complained about his ring he moved his hand, or set it down gently to the side. But not this time.

Michael groaned, and in one swift movement he threw the ring across the house, and you heard it cling! loudly behind you.

"Michael-" You started to reprimand him, but he bent you over fully on your counter, and let you go. He placed his hands on the counter, using it to slam into you again.

"Oh fuck!" You yelled, eyes nearly rolling into your skull.

"Told you." He was breathless, and you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. 

"To-told me wh-what?" You squealed when he pressed that delicate spongy spot inside you, making you see stars.

"I needed you, all I can think of is you. All your annoying remarks, the way you feel around me, how you look at me like I'm not an absolute piece of shit." Michael leaned down, pressing his head into your neck, nuzzling into you.

"Then why'd you leave?" You managed to gasp out, feeling your orgasm steadily appeared. That wave of pleasure was slowly crashing closer, it made the thoughts in your head become less coherent, nothing mattered aside from the way Michael made you feel.

"I didn't have a choice, I didn't want to. Had to. I never stopped thinking about you." He lifted one hand, and trailed it down, circling your aching clit. You keened, clamping down on him while your vision whited out. Michael grunted, fully pressing himself into you, and you could feel him filling you up, painting your soft walls white.

You both took a minute to breath, still connected while you panted. Slowly, slowly he pulled out of your over-sensitive walls, leaving you achingly empty. You and him just stood there, panting, unmoving.

“So, you gonna dip, or are you going to hang out here for a bit?” You asked, still a little breathless. There was that bitterness again because no matter what Michael said, he’d end up leaving one way or another.

“I think I’ll hang out here for a little bit.” He shrugged, and as you spared him a glance you watched him tuck himself away, not bothering to clean himself. 

You sighed, hobbling over to your bathroom to grab a wet wipe to clean yourself up.

“Whatever.” You called out. “You know where the door is.”

Michae did end up staying for a week or two, sleeping in the same bed as you and spending any time he could with you. For a second you believed he really did change, that he really did want you, instead of what you could offer.

But one day, when you came home from work and called out to no response, you realized he was gone. You sighed, split between wanting to check under the couch or living your life with as little damage to your psyche as possible. 

The former side of you won, your heart pounding in your ribcage. A new wave of sadness ushered over you, your heart aching as your stomach turned, pain overtaking your whole body.

He took the ring with him.

[feralnumberfive]

Send help

[twistedappletree]

wtf is even the point of western medicine fr

[mistywaves98]

Delinquent reader getting her brains fucked by councilprez!Scara? Degrading, spanking, bjs, over the desk and bodyworship?

And ong, please!! Bonus if they're step siblings for just that extra, unnecessary spice. Please, please, please? 🙉❤️

The stepcest got my stomach twisting like-?? Though tbh I'm not too confident abt this one... Long fics aren't really my strong point 😭

✧･ﾟ:* ->Student Council President! Scara x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Stepcest, Degradation, Slight praise, Spanking, Blowjob, Mean!/Sadistic! Scara, Body worship if you squint!

Did you really think that you could get away with your usual mischief just because you were related to the president of the student council? Well, yeah...no. Not after you've found yourself in this position — on your knees of the empty classroom, choking on the president's dick. Scaramouche couldn't keep the sadistic smile off his face as he roughly fucked your poor throat with his girthy length. Your jaw was sore, your oesophagus even more so from the way he used your mouth like a fleshlight.

You couldn't stop gagging everytime the tip hit the back of your throat, making you grab his thighs to steady yourself as tears streamed down your face,"Aww, what's the matter? Don't tell me your mouth hurts already, I was hoping to cum down your throat a couple times. Oh well, guess once will have to do...Open wide." His tone feigned sadness, but expression said otherwise. Scaramouche's eyes glinted with malice as he pulled you off his cock, groaning as he allowed his gooey cum to splatter all over your face, making you wince in response. He then takes a hand and runs it along your cheek, collecting his cum on his fingers only to shove them into your mouth.

And like the obedient little sister you are, you stuck your tongue out and accepted every drop before swallowing the bitter essence. You certainly looked a mess now, the lower half of your face dripping with the evidence of his climax as well as the red puffiness of your cheeks from crying. Scaramouche pats your head, the gesture more condescending than uplifting, "Good girl. At least you're not totally brain dead. But you still need to be punished for all those violations.."

Now you find yourself pulled up from the floor, laid across his lap. You squirm, legs kicking slightly before tensing as he flips up the back of your skirt,"S-scara? What are y—!!" A sharp smack to your ass cuts you off as you yelp, holding your tongue as your face flushes. "Tch, what a whore I have for a sister... Walking around with a skirt that barely covers your ass. That also goes against the dress code, y'know." Though you can already feel his dick getting stiff as he says that, the hardness pressing uncomfortably against your stomach.

Scaramouche takes his time to admire your body from this angle, running a finger from the base of your neck, moving down your spine to the top of your skirt, feeling you, shudder from the sensation. His eyes trail down to the area between your legs, watching as the fabric of your panties clings to the drooling folds of your pussy and he decides to use this to taunt you some more,"Hah! Are you really this worked up right now? All from sucking my dick... Guess you like this more than you're letting on. You love getting treated like a bag of holes by your stepbrother, don't you, you dirty bitch."

As much as you didn't want to admit it, he was right and the way he was calling you out was making you wetter by the second. Your step brother noticed it too, and smirked at the sight before suddenly grabbing the waistband of your panties. His eyes narrowed as he yanked it up and forwards a bit, eliciting another yelp from you as the fabric gets caught between your ass cheeks. The sensation is rather painful, as he intended, making you whimper as your face burns with humiliation.

"There, that's better. Now I can get a proper view of this ass in all its plush glory. Look at it, just begging to be spanked!" He laughed at his own words, enjoying every minute of your dilemma as he runs a hand over the smooth skin, giving it a periodic squeeze. When he's had his fill, he lifts it and reels it back. A loud smack! resounds throughout the classroom as his palm comes into contact with your ass. He's unforgiving, using as much force as possible to maximize your pain reception.

The tears are quick to flow, dripping onto the floor as your body lurches forward with each spank. Scaramouche suddenly lifts his left knee a bit propping his foot up with the assistance of a nearby chair. This slight change lifts your ass higher in the air, forcing your back into an arch as he continues his ruthless punishment. You wail and plead, arms flailing as you try to convince him to let up even a little bit but it's all in vain. His palm simply comes down to press between your shoulder blades to hold you in place as your step brother remains hellbent on tormenting you like this.

Your cries accompanied with the smacks echo throughout the otherwise quiet classroom. Considering it's after school hours, there's no one that would hear the two of you, except perhaps the janitor but they wouldn't dare interrupt such a scene. smack! smack! smack! The pain is searing by now, and you're quite positive that you're not going to be able to sit properly for a while after this. It's only when the flesh is red and raw that Scaramouche decides it's enough.

Even after his hand retreats you can still feel the sting, jolting as it comes back down to rub the irritated skin. The other one moves to grab the sides of your face, pulling your head back to look up at him as he coos at your pitiful state,"What a sight you are... Spanked nice and raw f'me. Heh, you should be grateful that I didn't make you count every single hit." His thumb pries your mouth open, pressing down on your tongue to reveal your used throat,"I definitely would've, if I hadn't fucked your mouth so thoroughly..."

"Are we...are we done..?" You manage to croak out as he removes the finger, voice hoarse and a bit muffled from the grip on your face as you desperately hope he'll give you a break. That hope is swiftly shattered when he merely cackles, the sadistic glint in his eyes ever present as his shoulders shake with laughter,"Haha! You thought I was done with you? Oh, no no, my dear step-sis, we've barely reached the fun part yet.." Dread pools in the pit of your stomach as he changes your position for the second time.

This time your upper half is pushed against the teacher's desk, breasts smushed against the hard surface as your lower half hangs off the edge. Scaramouche eagerly discards your skirt and then your underwear, pocketing the latter for personal use as he fixates on your bare pussy. Your step brother bites his lip, trailing a finger down your drooling slit before using his index and middle to push apart your folds and reveal your clenching hole to him,"Shit...she's fucking gorgeous... S' pretty and just asking to be filled. Can't believe you've been hiding all this from me, huh sis?"

He lifts his head to look at your face, and you avert your gaze, cheeks burning as he simply chuckles at your shyness. Though as much as he'd love to stare some more, his cock was already hard and aching for some more relief. A choked whimper slips out of you as he lines himself up with your entrance and abruptly shoves himself inside you, giving you no time to adjust as he bottoms out immediately. Scaramouche grunts as he feels your walls stretching to accommodate him, loving the feeling of your tight cunt around his cock.

"Hnn...Oh, God— Your pussy's so damn tight... Squeezing me so nicely...So wet too, I knew you were enjoying that spanking, fucking slut.." His hands come down on either side of your torso, pressing against the table for leverage as he begins to thrust. He picks up a rhythm, going hard and deep with reasonably paced strokes. Your nails scratch the smooth wood of the table, moans keening from your aching throat as his tip kisses your cervix every time he pushes back in. It doesn't help that his hips are snapping against your sore ass with each thrust, making you wince when they flush against yours. Your legs struggle to support you, trembling as his cock splits you apart.

All this back to back stimulation has rendered your body incredibly sensitive and you already find yourself teetering near the edge of release,"A-ahn...! S-...Scara...hnn! 'm gonna...gonna cum—!" Scaramouche feels his dick twitch as he hears that, gradually increasing the speed of his thrusts as he becomes set on making you coat his dick in your creamy essence. "Then cum f'me, wanna feel your slutty pussy squirt around my cock..." Well that was all you needed to hear, eyes rolling to back of your skull as you came with a squeal of ecstasy.

Scaramouche moaned as he felt your walls flutter around him, your cum creating a translucent ring around the base of his shaft. He didn't stop thrusting, helping you ride out your high as his body chased release of its own. His hands came down to grasp your hips, using it as leverage to drill his cock into you as a wild pace, strangled whimpers leaving your parted lips,"Nghh... Fuck, you looked so pretty cummin' around my dick like that..."

"But we're not done yet, so brace yourself..."

[steddiealltheway]

Steve wakes up and feels like his head is being split into two. The light coming from his blinds is too bright, his mouth is dry as hell and tastes like shit, and why is his body so sore?

Yeah, fuck, he needs to stop drinking.

He groans and turns only to find that he's not alone in his bed. Oh, and he's definitely naked. Shit.

He tries to rack his brain last night for any type of memory as he checks the girl out. She's facing away from him and her wild curly hair is a mess scattered all over her face and Steve's pillow. But he gets distracted because the stranger has kicked off the blanket sometime in the middle of the night and well... she has a really nice ass.

Steve tears his eyes away. Maybe they didn't sleep together, and, if so, it is entirely not okay for him to stare.

...but it's a really nice ass... Plus, come on, they're both naked in his bed so...

A faint memory of the day before pops up. He remembers Robin, Nancy, and Eddie coming over at some point because they had planned to hang out earlier that day... right?

They definitely got into the pool at some point. At least, he and Eddie did if he remembers correctly, but that doesn't explain why this random stranger is in his bed and-

Wait... did he... did he kiss Eddie? Oh fuc-

The so-called stranger grunts in their sleep, and Steve's eyes snap to them. Yeah, he knows that curly mane and he has no idea how he didn't recognize it in the first place, and oh my god he was checking out Eddie Munson's ass. Is checking out his ass. Fuck, he needs to stop staring at his ass!

Steve does the only logical thing and shoves the blanket back over the boy and turns away. Okay, so all he has to do is put on some clothes, tiptoe the hell out of there, and pretend like nothing happened.

Because nothing happened... Right?

Right. Steve wakes up naked next to one of his best friends who is also naked and has been the subject of some of Steve's late-night thoughts for a while now and-

"Fuck," Eddie groans next to him and turns to lie on his back and brush the hair out of his face. "Where the fuck..." he trails off as he looks around squinting and blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

Well, there goes Steve's plan of running out of there and pretending nothing happened. He watches as Eddie sits up, lifts the blankets to peek under them, and then puts them back down. "Hey Steve?"

"Yes Eddie?" Steve asks as he turns his head to stare at the ceiling.

"I'm naked," is all that Eddie says, no joking tone just kind of listing the facts.

Steve nods and replies, "Mhm."

"You're naked."

"Yep," Steve says and cringes before slowly sitting up. His back protests, and, Christ, what happened last night?

Eddie nods his head with his eyes wide. "So, uhhh, do you remember what happened? If... anything happened?"

Steve squints and tries to think but comes up with nothing except... "I think I may have kissed you."

Eddie lets out a deep breath and nods again. "So, we may have kissed at some point and now we're both naked in your bed..."

For some reason, Steve decides to just accept the facts and goes on to say, "Yeah, and I don't know about you, but I'm really sore. So, I think we..."

"Yeah because I'm sore as hell too."

Steve puts his head in his hands and sighs, "This is not how I wanted this to happen."

There's a panicked chuckle to his right, "Yeah, man, if you just want to pretend nothing happened we can totally- wait." Eddie pauses and Steve can feel the bed shift. "What do you mean this isn't how you wanted this to happen."

Oh shit. Steve glances over at Eddie whose eyebrows are raised as he waits for Steve to answer. "Uh," Steve starts and clears his throat then runs a hand through his hair. Might as well come clean about this. "Okay, well since this already happened, let's just say anything we say can be completely like forgotten along with last night if we want that."

"Okay..." Eddie says and nervously fidgets with a thread on Steve's blanket.

"So, I think it's probably clear now but uh... This is definitely not the first time I thought of you in... this way. And it sucks because I would never want our first time to be forgettable or hell, not consensual. Oh, fuck." Steve runs his hands through his hair. Oh fuck drunk him, he's never drinking again. "Eddie I'm so sorry that I may have taken advantage of you and-"

"Fuck, I was scared I had somehow taken advantage of you. You have no idea how long I've wanted this," Eddie says in what sounds like one breath.

Steve's heart races. "Really?"

Eddie nods and then laughs, "Of course, the only way I would ever confess something like this was if I was drunk off my ass. I should've known drinking so much around you was a bad idea."

"Shit," Steve says and laughs. Honestly, it sucks that he has absolutely zero memory of the night before, but he's almost grateful to have been drunk enough to get his feelings across to Eddie... well... sort of. "Hey Eddie?"

"Mhm?"

Steve runs a hand through his hair and notices it feels worse than usual but he'll have to figure that out later. "After I shower, brush my teeth, make us breakfast, and start feeling human again... do you want to actually do something memorable?"

"Steve, are you asking me if we can do the deed again? Because I am more than happy," Eddie says with a wide smile.

Steve groans, "Oh, please don't call it that."

Eddie laughs and launches into multiple horrible euphemisms for having sex that Steve will never be able to unhear.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, Steve kisses Eddie sweetly and whispers against his lips that he has to call Robin and he'll be right back. Eddie tiredly just hums and burrows deeper into his pillow.

Steve wanders downstairs and laughs again at the line of clothes he and Eddie had at some point stripped off on the way to his bedroom from the night before. This is going to be an interesting call.

Steve dials Robin's number and is glad to hear it's her and not her mom. "Hey, Robin."

Robin groans, "Are you calling to apologize for what you and Eddie put us through last night?"

Oh, shit, what did they do in front of poor Robin and Nancy? Steve sits on his counter and frowns. "Actually, I was hoping that you would fill that part of the night in since neither of us remember."

There's a sigh on the other line before Robin launches into it, "Well, for some reason you two decided to see who could drink more which turn into the two of you wondering who could swim better drunk. Let me tell you, you both were seriously struggling out there but refused to admit it, but Nancy and I had to stay because we were too afraid you two would drown. Then, you both got out and said you were freezing, and Eddie told you how he had heard that people with hypothermia can get hot really fast when they huddle up naked under the sheets."

Oh shit.

"Then, Nancy and I had to witness you two drunkenly stumble your way up the stairs while trying to take off your clothes, and you two would not listen to us telling you that maybe that wasn't a good idea. Luckily, when we went to check on you two, you were both already passed out. Now tell me how awkward this morning was,"

So... soreness because of all the swimming in the pool. Stripping to get wet clothes off... and, "So you're telling me Eddie and I didn't get drunk and sleep together?"

Robin cackles on the other line, "Please tell me you dinguses really believed that."

Steve takes a deep breath and confesses, "Is it worse that we decided that if we had no memory of it then maybe we should make a memory of it?"

The cackling stops on the other line before Robin whispers, "No fucking way."

Steve nods then realizes Robin can't see him, but he remembers something and asks, "Wait, I remember kissing Eddie! What about that?"

There's a pause on the other line and Robin says, "Maybe that happened but..." There's another giggle on the line. Oh no.

"But what?"

"I think you're remembering when you kissed us all on the forehead and wished us goodnight - including Eddie."

Steve groans and sighs, but all things considered, "I'm really glad I didn't call you and ask you about it this morning," Steve confesses.

"Yeah?" Robin asks and Steve can hear the smile in her voice.

"Yeah," Steve says. "But I have no idea how I'm going to tell Eddie."

"Tell me what?"

Steve jumps and turns to find Eddie standing in the doorway to his kitchen.

"Have fun!" Robin says with another laugh before hanging up.

Steve sighs and starts, "So, funny story..."

Eddie ends up laughing his ass off while Steve sighs and goes on about how Robin will never let him live it down.

But he won't lie, he's absolutely relieved that his first time with Eddie was sober and entirely memorable. But he's also still convinced that drinking around Eddie is definitely a bad idea since he ended up sleeping without washing the chlorine out of his hair.

The things he does for Eddie Munson...

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

🎃 Cramped

Abduction CW: Toys, abduction, claustrophobia

(Reader's) skin chaffed against the plastic tub they were folded into. They couldn't see what was going on, but it felt like their container was on wheels, and it occasionally would hit a rock or snag on a bump, jostling (Reader's) body uncomfortably.

They didn't remember what happened, they were walking towards their apartment after work when there was a sudden pain across the back of their neck, then they woke up inside what felt like a large plastic tote. There were holes drilled in the side so (Reader) wouldn't suffocate, but something large and plastic was fixed to their head, filling their throat and preventing (Reader) from screaming for help.

And the worst part wasn't the bare skin being rubbed raw, but the hot arousal between their thighs. Even if there was a light, (Reader's) body was contorted in a way where they wouldn't be able to look down at themselves to investigate what was going on. Their skin itched from the wetness as they came over and over again, being overstimulated without end. (Reader) wanted to cry, but even with the little hole near their face there wasn't enough oxygen with how (Reader) was panting through their nose.

Their legs were pressed into their stomach so tightly that their feet were falling asleep and (Reader) couldn't get a solid angle to kick or squirm.

"Break time!" A familiar voice cheerfully quipped as the lid popped off loudly. The sudden light hurt (Reader's) eyes, illuminating the woman like a halo. "Do you need to go potty? Or have some water?" She held out a water bottle. This woman was one of (Reader's) regular customers, a tiny little thing who always shook and stuttered at the checkout.

Her trembling fingers unlatched the gag, pulling the attached dildo out of (Reader's) throat. The sensation of the warm plastic dick sliding out over (Reader's) tongue was accompanied by another orgasm, spilling out between their legs and mixing with their sweat. (Reader's) abductor's eyes went wide, and she had to bite her lip to prevent a giggle from escaping.

"Why...?" Was all (Reader) could get out.

"I'm sorry about this, sweety! But you'll be a lot happier when we get to our new home." She brought the bottle to (Reader's) lips, bending at an angle where (Reader) could see up her skirt; see her soaked underwear. "It was really hard getting you here, but it was worth it. You're worth it."

Her eyes violated (Reader's) sore body, but (Reader) was too weak to cover themselves up. As (Reader) drank from the bottle, the woman reached down, grabbing something and tugging. There was something in (Reader's) ass.

They yelped, splashing water over their face as they suddenly became aware of the thing in their butt. (Reader) had been so focused on the electrical pulses across their nerves forcing them to cum that they hadn't paid attention to the foreign object in their backside. She pulled harder, a bead plopping out.

"Please stop.."

The toy taped to their front was still on, rhythmically throbbing against their swollen and irritated sex. (Reader) shook as tears threatened to fall. However, this seemed to excite to woman more.

"I followed you home, with this big, two person tub. It was difficult finding one that was big enough to fit a person, but also small enough to prevent any wiggle room. I'm sorry that it's cramped in there, but I couldn't give you any room to struggle! You should be impressed, I got ya with my stun gun and had you fall into the bucket! I'm sorry I'm not strong enough to carry you in my arms.. but I've been weight training, so one day.." She began rambling, hyper fixating on the way (Reader's) asshole puckered and clenched as she continued pulling out the anal beads.

A phone beeped in the woman's pocket, distracting her. "Ope, looks like we've got to get a move on!" The toy was roughly shoved back into (Reader). They cried out in a wave of pain and pleasure, cut off as the fake cock was forced back down their throat; it's textured veins and bumps stimulating (Reader's) mouth as the gag was locked into place.

She placed a loving kiss on (Reader's) sweaty forehead, ignoring the quivering of their thighs as (Reader) failed to fight off another climax, adding to the puddle in their bucket.

"We'll be home soon~"

The lid was clicked back into place, enveloping (Reader) in darkness once more.

[slu7formen]

HEY HEHEGE IK I JUST SENT IN A REQUEST but can i pretty please have another slytherin reader x ced sickfic😭😭😭😔😔😔 this cold is kicking my ass rn i need ced to take care of me🤞 how bout if the reader is like stubborn denying she’s sick but ced is a casual dom taking care of her and reader just complies when he gives her the stern look😫😫 and he’s worried sick not letting her out of bed n stuff omg i want someone to scold me for being sick ffs im lonely as hell. also thank you sm for the last request i made you r a godsend🥰🥰

also can i know what to call you pls i feel rather awkward calling you, well, you. love you tho 💋💋 i’m confident im ur biggest fan if there’s no appreciater of ur work then im probably dead in a ditch somewhere

you’re always requesting and I think that’s just so sweet 🥹 thank u ! also, had so much fun writing this.

Cedric taking care of you when you’re sick <3

slu7formen’s masterlist | cedric diggory masterlist

Sometimes Cedric hated how stubborn you were. Like, really, he truly felt that you behaved like a child that tried to get everything their own way and everything else was just wrong.

He noticed. It was not fucking hard to notice that you were about to catch the worst flu of your life; you looked so sick you could easily be mistaken for someone who was dragon pox. Your sore throat, the pain in your chest, the phlegm in your chest when you coughed, and the sneezing. And still, you were bold enough to lie to his face.

“I’m fine” you affirmed, followed by a small sneeze. Cedric raised his eyebrows at you, you rolled your eyes. “Seriously, it’s nothing”

“It’s nothing?” Cedric raised his voice, looking at you in disbelief. “Honey, you can’t even talk without choking in your own phlegm”

“Don’t overreact” you bit back. “I said I’m fine”

He didn’t want to fight. Whenever you did, it was because most of the time, you behaved like the most stubborn person ever… but he just relaxed. Maybe you could get better, maybe you were right this time.

Of course you weren’t right. Do you really believe that you’re ever gonna prove Cedric wrong?

The next morning your body was hurting, swollen and sore everywhere and constantly groaning as you sat down in chairs during classes. Cedric noticed every single time.

“Can you please let me take you to the Emergency Wing?” he had whispered to you once Snape had walked past you two.

“No” you argued.

“You’re not even writing there” he pointed to your hand, where the ink had dropped a few drops since you just lifted your wrist in the air, without writing anything.

“Cedric” you called. You rarely called him by his name, it was always ‘Ced’ to him, unless you were mad. “I’m fine. Stop it”

He let it pass just one more day, but when you didn’t even show up to your first class the next morning, he truly started to get mad.

You woke up with him sitting at the edge of your bed. You gasped as you sat on the bed, desperate and confused. “What time is it?” you asked, already trying to get out of bed.

“Don’t worry, you’ve missed classes already” he interrupted. You sat on the bed, angry.

“I what!?” you yelled, as painful as it was for you to do so.

“You’re staying in bed” he demanded, big arms crossed over his chest as he stood up, standing in front of your weak body like a giant statue, demanding you to stay where you are.

But of course, you had to complain.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” you stood up and pushed his shoulder, walking past him. “I’m f-…” before you could reach the door, an invisible force bounced you back into your place. You scoffed in disbelief, and Cedric grinned, satisfied. You tried to walk again, but the same bouncy feeling hit your body, much harder this time.

“Imperturbable Charm” he explained. “You’re not getting out of this room”

“Imperturbable-, where’s my wand?” you walked towards him, almost hitting your chest to his, even though the scene was not threatening at all. To Cedric’s eyes, it looked quite funny. You, all red nose and sore throat, smaller than him, trying to act angry at him. Yeah, as if he would let you win this time.

“I’m not giving you your wand. You’re staying inside this room, so do as I say, and go to bed”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “No”

“Oh?” he dared, raising both eyebrows and lowering his head. He studied your facial expressions for a moment before speaking again. “Baby, that wasn’t a question. Let me take care of you, and go to bed”

You bit the inside of your cheek. His grey eyes were working their way inside your brain; you fucking hated it and loved it at the same time. You groaned when you slowly saw his satisfied smirk grow on his face, he knew he already won.

Once you got yourself covered in bed again, he walked to the nightstand next to your bed. On top of it, there was a small ceramic bowl with a brown liquid inside, it smelled good. He grabbed it carefully and handed it to you. “It’s chicken and pumpkin soup” he explained. He slowly placed it over your lap, instantly feeling the heat grow over your thighs, it was still hot.

He then squat down and took his leather bag, the one you gifted him just a few months ago. He opened it, and took one small glass bottle, placing it at your small nightstand bed. “And this,” he pointed to the horrible red liquid “is Pepperup Potion. You have to drink it. Madame Pomfrey said it’s just a common cold that you have, but since you’ve been like this for days, if you’re not better by tomorrow morning, you’ll have to stay at the Emergency Wing”

You gulped, looked down at the hot soup, and then back at him. “Okay” you said in a small voice. Cedric sighed heavily before taking a spoon and sitting in front of you at the bed, next to your thighs. You tried to take it, but he quickly backed it up. He served some soup on the spoon, making sure that a small piece of chicken stayed there, he knew how much you loved to have in the first bite… or drink.

“Open” he demanded. You did so, and the warm and salty taste of the soup felt good against your tongue, already satisfied with your food for the first time in three days. You didn’t say anything, just letting your boyfriend put food into your mouth as he placed his free hand over your thigh, squeezing and soothing up and down.

“Thank you” you said after taking one particular big spoon of soup. “And, I’m sorry for being stubborn… and for not letting you take care of me”

He snorted. “It’s okay, angel” he replied. He knew how much you loved it when he called you that. “I know how hard that skull of yours can be sometimes”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up” you laughed. He forced you into taking more of your food before it gets cold. “You shouldn’t be doing this. I can take care of myself”

“No one takes cares of you better than I do” he took the bowl out of your legs and placed it over the table.

“It’s not like I have a choice. You locked me up here”

He moved closer to you. “And don’t you like it?” he asked. “You and me, locked inside your dorm-…”

“Ced!” you gasped in disbelief before he bursted out laughing. “You’re supposed to be taking care of me, remember?”

“Excuse me, am I not doing it?”

You placed a hand at the back of his neck, slightly running your fingers through his scalp. “No. I would say you’re more of a distraction”

His face got closer to yours. “Am I?” he leaned in, but you backed up, surprise.

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get sick too?”

“I really don’t care” he said before softly placing your lips over yours. Kissing Cedric always felt like kissing the smoothest and plushiest cloud. His lips were warm, and the way he captured your lips between yours was always the hardest thing to separate from whenever you broke the kiss. If you could, you’d kiss him forever.

He leaned back and placed his forehead on yours. “Want me to give you a massage?” he asked.

“Yes, please” you groaned. He laughed.

“Okay, okay” he stood up “But before that… your medicine” he took the glass bottle and shook it in his hand.

“Nooo” you whined, hiding under the covers.

“You have to drink it, honey” he tried to uncover you, which was already hard enough since your hands gripped onto the sheets with amazing strength.

“No!”

“You won’t get better unless you drink it”

“I already feel better” you lied.

Cedric found your head hidden under the blanket and gave it a light smack. “Liar” he panted.

After fighting for some time, Cedric promised you a chocolate frog after the medicine. He stayed with you for the rest of the day, only going to his own room when your roommates came back to your dorm to sleep, not leaving without kissing you first, and getting rid of the charm he had put around your bed.

It still felt weird when Cedric took care of you like this. You knew he was someone that cared for the people he loved, but you never thought it would go as far as staying with you in bed for a whole day, missing classes and risking himself on getting sick too.

But the truth was, Cedric loved you more than anything in this world. Taking care of you was the least thing he could do after you agreed in giving your heart and soul to him.

Is it a bad time for me to ask you to go check on my new ethan landry one shot ? 🥹

[atinylittlepain]

I'm On Fire

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

warnings | 18+ cursing, smut right out of the starting blocks, young joel is a goddamn menace, a little angst as well

wordcount | 8.5K

a/n | thank you all for reading this series, i really loved writing this part and i hope y'all enjoy - as always, drop me a line and tell me what you think. oh also, obviously you should listen to I'm On Fire while reading this. But, if I could offer a non-Bruce song (blasphemy, I know) for your listening-while-reading pleasure, it would be Fruits of My Labor by Lucinda Williams, it is so goddamn Cherry-coded. Okay, that's all, thank you for reading.

(gif by @santigarcia)

......................................

“Hmm.”

“Cher.” His lips against the bare wing of her shoulder blade, his fingers curling around the sheet to pull it down over her ass, his palm stopping on the curve before slipping up and along the slope of her spine, all the way to the nape of her neck. 

“Hmm?” His lips right at the shell of her ear, the whole heat of him draped over her prone body. She can already feel his cock smearing pearled pleasure against her low back.

“We gotta get up.” A kiss to the side of her neck, just under her jaw. She still doesn’t move, keeping her nose buried in his pillow and breathing so deeply it’s just him in her lungs. Sweat and salt and him. 

“No we don’t.” His nose skates down the center of her spine, the loss of his presence making her shiver under the weak breeze of the box fan in his window, still morning, still cool before the heat starts to creep in. 

“It’s Sunday.” He coaxes her legs apart, completely limp in his hands, so he can settle between them, his palms finding her hips and hitching them up in the air ever so slightly.

“Amen.” His laugh washes over her, still wet, still tender from last night, now spread open for him.

“We gotta get to church.” A kiss to where her thigh meets the crease of her ass, one on each side before his palms spread her open even more, her whole body clenching in anticipation.

“I’m not going.” She tries to keep her voice steady when he noses through her swollen cunt, lips finding her clit in a soft suckle, but her words come out a bit breathless anyways, her face still pressed into his pillow.

“No? Not going?” He speaks with his mouth still so close that she can feel the low thrum of it in her pelvis, resisting the urge to buck her hips back to seek out more of that burn.

“Nope.” He does it again, letting his jaw go slack and putting the open heat of his mouth flat over her cunt, tongue dragging heavy and straight through her. She wonders if he can taste himself, still slipping out of her, still a bit sore, so she blindly reaches back, finding the crown of his head and tugging. A low mumble, need it gentle, need it slow, because we weren’t either of those things last night. 

“We have to go, Cherry. People will talk.” His palm wide over her ass, he uses his thumb to keep her spread for him, dipping his tongue into her clenching hole, kissing it better. Always aching, always dripping, always so blisteringly ready for him. She starts to hum into his pillow. 

“Don’t care.” She cries out when he slips two fingers inside her, too much, tears with how too much it is, though she still rocks back against his hand when he slowly pumps deeper. 

“Tough girl doesn’t care, huh?” She’s starting to sweat, spit pooling under her tongue, open mouthed and dripping onto his pillow in a silent whine when he crooks his fingers against that spot, that spot he likes to tease and toy with so much, that spot that would’ve had her leg kicking out behind her if his other hand didn’t have a firm grip around her thigh to keep her on her knees, her hips up high and quivering. 

“None of them matter.” He works her until she’s starting to twitch with it, broken little sounds in the back of her throat that turn into a dejected sigh when he pulls away, leaving his hand on the small of her back, the slick coating his fingers cooling and sticking against her skin. 

“That right?” Not gone for long, she preens when she feels the thick heat of his cock slip through her aching cunt, her spine stretching out long and languid, a perfect arc that he curls over as he splits her open. It hurts, good hurt, stretching hurt, her eyes scrunching shut, so sensitive still. He shushes her groans, pressing his lips to her temple, coaxing her face to turn and seek out his in a kiss that tastes like herself, her eyes still closed tight.

“Uh-huh.” He doesn’t really pull out, just ruts his hips deeper and deeper against the curve of her ass and it’s so much, so early, all she can do is take it, slack and simmering at the same time. 

“Do I matter, Cher?” One hand pressed against her belly, palm splayed out over softness, the other wrapping around her torso, palming the weight of her breast as he hoists her up against his chest, limbless and keening in his grip, her head falling back on his shoulder. 

“So much.” He holds her, suspended, strung and taut in his hands as he fucks up into her, his nose dragging along the line of her jaw. 

“So much?” It’s all she can do to reach her hand back and grip his ass, that tight clench of muscle as he grinds his hips against hers. His hand that had been clutching her breast drags up to rest over the front of her throat, thumb and forefinger framing her jaw to tilt her head toward him, a silent ask that she obliges, her eyes finally slipping open to look at him.

“The most.” Good morning, what a sight. His hair sticking up all which ways, sleep still heavy and dark around his eyes, his lips parted and shiny with her and the quick pink of his tongue. His fingers pinch at her jaw, opening her up for him to lick into her mouth. He mouths at her like he’s trying to swallow up the high little cries he keeps punching out of her with the way he’s keeping her so full of him, throbbing and dripping down her thighs. And it still hurts, still fucked out, raw and red and reeling, but this is all she wants lately, to have him so deep that she knows she’ll be thinking about him for the rest of the day. 

“Just want one, Cher. Then we gotta– fuck– gotta get to church because we-we’re both going to hell at this rate.” That makes her laugh into his mouth, Joel cursing low when her cunt clenches around him, a brutal drag. 

“You and me, baby.” She knows exactly what she’s doing by saying that, that little word that seems to make his brain fry. She saves it, rations it, only letting it slip up her throat on spare occasions so he doesn’t get too accustomed to it, so he still reacts like he does now, his eyes scrunching shut, pained pleasure, and his hips snapping against her ass a little harder. His hand slips a little lower from where it was splayed against her stomach, finding her clit in a greedy swirl. And it isn’t long before her spine is stringing so tight that the stick of her skin pulls away from his chest, a sharp gasp of his name before everything turns liquid. 

Even as he continues to fuck into her, he’s gentle, so gentle guiding her down in her slump back onto her stomach, holding her hips up with his hands curled around her waist. His warmth starts to spread inside her with a quiet groan, hips close and jolting against her, his face pressed between her shoulder blades before he slackens on top of her entirely. She likes the weight of him, the whole body press down into his mattress, pushed and pulled by his breath battering against hers in their ribs. Always missing it when he presses his palms into the mattress to lift his torso up and off of her, still inside her, starting to soften and spill. He traces a finger from the side of her cheekbone along the curve of her ear, a silent ask that makes her turn her face to the side so he can dip down and find her mouth with his. 

“For the record, I don’t wanna go either.” Another kiss, just a quick, smacking thing before he rolls over beside her, flopping down onto his back and dragging his hand through his muss of hair. 

“I know.” She props up on her elbow, her cheek in her hand so she can look at him, reaching out because she can, letting her thumb slide gently beneath his lashes because she can, his cheek rounding under her ministrations. 

“Ma would throttle me if I didn’t.” He tilts his chin up, lips to the pad of her thumb, and then teeth just to get a laugh out of her. 

“I know.” Said on a long sigh as she finally turns over and sits up in bed, Joel’s palm immediately finding her spine, running the length of it, fingers curling over her shoulder at the top before slipping back down. 

“And your parents, well.” He doesn’t finish the thought, well coming out long and low on an exhale. She silently thanks him for not finishing the thought, looking at him over her shoulder, small smile before she gets out of bed, his eyes trailing her bare body as she shuffles around the room, the remnants of him already starting to slick down her thighs. His hands are crossed behind his head, young muscles tensing in his arms, suddenly seemingly content to stay splayed in bed while she puts on the dress she had packed last night for church. Her parents think that she’s sleeping over at Lisa-Anne’s house. She’s been sleeping over at Lisa-Anne’s house a lot lately.

“C’mere, Cherry baby.” She ignores him, padding into his bathroom and running her fingers back through her hair a few times, good enough. Joel has turned over onto his side to watch, a low rasp of singing that she has to roll her eyes at. 

Cherryyyyyy, cherry baby

Mmm, you look so fine

I’m gonna make you miiiine

“That’s not even how the lyrics go.” 

“No?” 

“No.” She knows that she’ll break if she actually looks at him, so she keeps her eyes pointedly focused on slipping the kitten heels her mother insisted on getting her for church onto her feet while Joel huffs at her cold shoulder.

“Come teach them to me then, Cherry baby.” She finally breaks, and of course he’s smiling, his dimple deep and endearing and annoying.

“Joel, get up. You’re the one that was so worried about being late to church.” He scoffs, slumping back down into the sheets with all the drama of a swooning maiden. She’s going to have to use a different tactic.

“I’ll do that thing you like so much later if you get dressed right now.” His whole torso shoots back up at that, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Today?”

“This afternoon, yeah, after we atone for our sins.” He’s already up and stumbling into the bathroom, his bare ass giving her quite the show. 

They drive separate, of course, and they’re both still ten minutes late to church. 

…

She’s on the phone when she answers the door, her eyes lighting up, big smile even as she keeps talking, tilting her chin to welcome him into the front hallway.

“Well, I don’t have twenty thousand more words for you yet, and since when are we on some insane time crunch anyways?” He can’t help smiling watching her, pacing a little back and forth, a deep pull to her brow as she fires off sharp words down the line.

“Look, I can’t tell you when it’s going to be done, you know I don’t work like that.” She holds up her finger to him, mouthing one minute. He nods, staying right where he is as she pads further into the house, still muttering into her phone. His eyes start to wander, looking into what must be the living room off to his right, awash in full light from the large windows in the front. To his left is a staircase, pictures already hanging along the hall opposite it. Mostly of her and Ellie, one sending a particular pang though his chest. It’s her holding what must have been Ellie as a toddler, all bundled up, her tiny cheek pressed against Cherry’s, rounded with smiles. They’re standing in front of a huge Christmas tree, that one they put up every year in New York, he recognizes. Cherry couldn’t be more than twenty-four, maybe twenty-five in the picture, still so young. 

“What’re you doing here?” He whips around to see Ellie coming down the stairs, death glare in fine form this morning as she comes to stand in front of him with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed. 

“I’m gonna be fixing the porch.”

“That better be all you’re fixing, old man.” Absolutely no clue how to respond to that, and luckily he doesn’t need to because Cherry is coming back down the hall, no phone in hand this time.

“Hey, babe, carpool is gonna be here soon, have you had something to eat yet?” He feels like he shouldn’t get to see this, their quiet rush of a morning routine, Cherry already flitting away into what he assumes is the kitchen as Ellie groans that she isn’t hungry this early, Cherry back just as quick with a banana and a just humor me, please when she hands it to the kid. And then the phone rings again and Cherry groans, quick kiss to Ellie’s forehead which she scoffs and squirms out from under as Cherry darts back down the hall to pick up whoever is calling. Ellie meanwhile shoulders on a backpack and opens the front door, but not without turning around to shoot Joel one more look.

“I’m watching you, old man. Even when I’m not, I am.” She points a sharp finger at him, though he has no time to respond to that either, Ellie shouting a quick love you, mom down the hall which is easily answered by Cherry’s love you, babe, have fun before the kid is out the door with a hard slam. Joel already feels exhausted, and he’s only been here for all of five minutes. 

He decides that it’s okay to shuffle a little further into the house, following the sound of Cherry’s voice, still rattling off rapid fire to whoever she’s talking to on the phone. He hovers just in the doorway of what he assumes must be her office, sparsely furnished, just a desk with one of those fancy new Apple desktops on it and a slew of pens and notebooks surrounding it. Still a tall stack of boxes in one corner, though there’s already a shelf built and packed with books along the wall. 

“No, no, no, we tried to get her to do the cover art for the last one, and it was a complete fucking mess. I don’t– why are we even talking about this? The book is nowhere near finished yet– this is actually ridiculous. You know what the best thing you could do for me right now is? Leave me alone so maybe I can actually get some work done. Okay? Great, thanks so much, bye.” He winces at how hard she shuts her cell phone. But when she turns around to look at him, the scowl on her face melts into more of a resigned grimace. 

“Sorry about that.” 

“If it’s a bad time, Cher, I can come back another day.” She’s breezing right past him, always at a clipped pace it seems, and all he can think is that he should probably be following behind her and into the kitchen, so he does, albeit a little tentatively, not wanting to disrupt whatever warpath she seems to be on.

“No, it’s a perfect time, I swear, I will throw my phone in the garbage disposal if anyone else calls me.” She has a hand held up, as if she’s trying to remember something and pointing one finger into the air will help, her eyes scrunched shut. Honestly, she looks completely fritzed, taking a few steps toward the refrigerator, then seeming to change her mind and walk back over to him where he’s standing in the doorway. 

“Right, the porch, sorry, let me just get my brain out of my editor’s ass and–” He cuts her off with a hand on her bicep, easy, friendly. He can do friendly.

“Cher, really, it’s okay, I have all day.” She finally seems to take a breath that makes it past her throat, that frantic tilt in her eyes already starting to smooth. 

“Is Sarah’s team doing the whole bonding thing today too?” He nods, sharing a quick smile with her, and then remembering that no, not friendly to just keep his hand on her bicep and no, there is no non-awkward way to retract his hand, though he does his best.

“So the porch, what am I working with here?”  She leads him out to the backdoor and he finds that he’s working with exactly what she described. The planks are all rotten, pock-marked and fraying, a complete hazard. He doesn’t even try to walk on it, it's that bad. 

“Well, what do you think?” She says it with the corner of her thumbnail worrying between her teeth, leaning in the doorframe beside him.

“I think you’re gonna need a whole new porch, Cher. Just looking at it, I can tell you right now that none of this is safe to salvage.”

“That sounds expensive.” Not for you, he’d like to say. Not anything for you. But he can’t say that because then she’d never let him do it in the first place. 

“Nah, it’s easy stuff. Maybe a few days, but really, not major at all.” Her eyes scan out over the porch, and he can practically see the gears turning in her head.

“How much do you think, altogether?” 

“Uh, well–”

“Joel, no.”

“What no?” 

“No, I know what you’re doing, and I’m not gonna let you undersell your work just because it’s me.”

“Friends and family discount, Cher.” There is no friends and family discount. His uncle asked them to build a new addition to his house last year and the Miller brothers were happy to charge him full price, just good business. 

“I want you to tell me how much it would be if I was just some random person that hired you.” If it gets her to drop it, he’ll indulge it, he’ll just leave out the fact that he’s never going to accept a single dime of it.

“Well there’s the cost of materials and labor to consider. I could probably get this done over three or four days. You’d be looking at anywhere from four to maybe six thousand dollars.” She nods, working her jaw as she squints out at the porch again before finally holding her hand out to him, though it takes him a beat to realize that she’s looking for a shake. 

“Alright, sounds like a deal. And I will be paying full price, just so you know. I’ll send the check to Tommy if I have to.” He’s still holding her hand in a ridiculous shake, nodding along even though he’d throttle Tommy if she really did that. 

“Whatever you say, Cher. So am I good to go ahead and get to work out there?” 

“Yes, yeah, absolutely, it’s all yours to have at it–” She’s cut off by the sound of her phone ringing in the other room, her whole face scrunching up at the sound.

“Sorry, I just– well, you know your way around the house, right?” She’s already shuffling down the hall toward her office.

“Yeah, I think I can manage, don’t worry about it, Cher.” Her phone is still ringing as she leans out of the doorway of her office, smiling at him, all apologetic. 

“Thank you, so fucking much. If you need anything I will most likely be in here for the rest of the day.” She slams the door behind her, and he figures that’s where Ellie gets it from. 

…

She almost didn’t return to the auto shop, wan and worn out from what being ten minutes late to church got her, a sharp look from her mother when she slid into the pew next to her, the least of hers worries when she got home after the service. Her parents, so hell-bent on everything being prim and perfect and in its right place, and god forbid anything ever be not that. Nothing prim and perfect about it, really. 

She parks at the back of the shop, her usual spot, a quick swipe of her knuckles under both of her eyes, sniff, a bit stiff. She can’t believe that after all this time, this stuff still manages to make her cry. She wishes that it didn’t. 

He’s finishing up for the day. She always comes around just when he’s punching out, hovering around the front office, usually a little giddy with it. But tonight she only feels a tired anticipation, trying to get herself ready to be okay for him, when really all she wants is to lay down and be very still for a few hours. She can’t do that though, because he’s there, covered in grease with his ball cap hanging out of the backpocket of his coveralls, all smiles when he sees her through the window of the front office looking in on the garage, laughing and getting ribbed by the other men he works with when he sends her a little wave. She waves back, trying to make a smile happen, though she sees that it looks more like a wince in the reflection of the window. But then he’s really there, coming through the front office, keeping his hands to himself when he smacks a quick kiss to her cheek on his way to the sink to wash up, his neck craned to look at her even as he does. And he’s singing again, and she doesn’t know why, but it’s making her throat curl up tight and hot with tears all over. 

Cherryyyyy, cherry baby

Cherryyyy, can you come out tonight

She blinks hard to hold back the salt, trying to make another smile happen as he walks over to her, taking her bag from her shoulder into his hand. And she knows he knows that something isn’t quite right, his brows falling, a barely there question that she’s grateful he doesn’t ask, tugging on her hand to lead her up the back stairs to his apartment above the shop. 

“Just gonna get a quick shower, but then I’m all yours.” A small kiss to her lips, she just nods, worried that her voice will give her away, so quick to fall apart under his gaze. While he cleans up in the bathroom, she sits down on the edge of his bed, steepling her hands along her temples, her elbows resting on her knees. It’s a small thing of an apartment, one room, a bed in one corner, and what could be called a kitchen in the other, counter and refrigerator and an ancient looking stove. A small table with two chairs tucked into another corner, and a dresser she knows came directly from his childhood bedroom in the other. The simplicity is soothing to the dull throb settling under her skull. 

The shower squeaks off and she hates that she takes a deep breath as if to brace herself for his presence again. He’s quiet padding out of the bathroom, she only feels the slight dip of the mattress as he crawls up behind her, the smell of that irish spring soap he uses washing heady and heavy over her mind when he presses a kiss to the top of her shoulder. 

“What’s going on, Cher?” It always shocks her, how quiet he can get, usually all brass and brash, and it certainly doesn’t help the whole not crying thing either. 

“I know I said– this morning– um, I know I said that I’d– that I would–” Her fists are clenched so tight in her lap that she thinks her fingernails might break skin, trying and failing to get the words out before the flood comes. But Joel is already springing into action, coming to sit next to her on the edge of the bed, nothing but a towel around his hips, collecting both of her hands in his, unfurling them in his. 

“Hey, hey, what’s– what is it? What’s wrong?” Just a few, enough for her vision to start to cloud with them, though she can still see the way he ducks his head down to catch her gaze, his brow crumpled and a deep frown pulling at his lips. She takes one of her hands from his to pinch the bridge of her nose, trying to cut off the tears before they can really start falling. 

“I think I’m just tired. I’m sorry, Joel. Would it be okay if we, um, if we just–” He squeezes her hand, a relief in its quiet reassurance.

“Why don’t we just lay down, Cher, huh? It’s too hot out for anything else anyways.” She mumbles a warbly okay, but he’s already up and rummaging through his dresser, pulling on a pair of boxers before digging out a shirt for her as well, because she’s still in the stupid dress from this morning, only now realizing how badly she’d like to claw it off right now. 

Finally, they settle down around each other on the mattress, only the sparsest of clothing, the sheets kicked off the end so they can stay close even with the humid warmth in the air. And after dozing for an hour or two like that, letting that thick crush of tears dissolve itself with her cheek smushed against his bare chest, she lifts her head up to meet his half-shut eyes. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Cher.” 

“Do you ever think about leaving?” He drags his finger down the line of her nose, then back up and over the arc of her eyebrow, idle and easy. 

“You mean– like leaving town?”

“Yeah, getting out of here.” 

“Sometimes, a lot less than you do, I bet.” 

“Sometimes it seems like it’s all I think about.” Joel lets out a long sigh at her words, his finger continuing a random path along her jaw, over her bottom lip, mismatched mapping.

“I know it is, Cher.”

“Do you think I could do it? Just not come back?”

“I know you could. Go and be a big time writer and all that.” 

“You could too, you know.” Joel snorts, and she brings her palm down on his chest, a small don’t.

“Yeah right.”

“You could. There’s auto shops in the big cities too, Joel.” 

“I don’t wanna work in an auto shop for the rest of my life, Cher.” 

“What do you wanna do?”

“I’m still figuring that out.” She hums, pressing a kiss to his chest, her bare legs shifting in their tangle with his. 

“Would you do it with me?” It comes out, bubbles up from her chest before she can stop it. And she only realizes how badly she wants it after she has asked it. How quickly this has turned into the only thing she wants, her mind finally catching up with everything else. How somewhere along the way, nothing serious, just for the summer, became something else entirely. 

“Do what?”

“Leave and not come back, with me.” 

“Cherry.” Said long and low, like don’t tease, not this, please don’t. It makes her sit up a bit more so she can fully look at him..

“I’m serious, Joel.” Yes, she thinks, she is really, really serious about this. So serious about this it feels like her heart might split at the seams if he tells her anything other than yes. Joel still looks skeptical, unsure, his head tilted and his brow furrowed up at her. 

“Like, now?”

“No, at the end of the summer, two weeks from now. Just come with me when I go back to college.”

“And what, Cher? You’re gonna tuck me away in your dorm room or something?” She hates that now is the time he chooses to be such the pragmatist, frustrated heat creeping up her throat as she lets her nails scratch lightly against his chest, as if she might be able to coax something else out from behind his ribs. 

“We’ll get an apartment. I’m eligible to work as a TA next year, and you’ll find work too and then– and then I only have two more years left of school and–”

“Are you really serious about this?” He has finally sat up with her, stopping her ramble into the future with his palm cupping her cheek. 

“I’m so serious, Joel.”

“We’d be dirt poor.”

“Probably.”

“We’d probably kill each other after a month of living together.” 

“It’s possible.”

“Goddamn it, why am I actually considering this?” That makes a laugh burst from her chest, her smile curling against his, her forehead pressed against his. 

“Just say that you will, Joel, please.” He takes a kiss from her, then another, then another until there’s no space between them, mouths moving mouths and sighs being swallowed and his hands coaxing her into his lap, holding her as close as he can.  

“You really want to do that– with me?” There it is, that smallness, that youngness, his eyes wide and rounded and looking at her and only her. Asking for something, anything from her. She gives him only the truth in return.

“I wouldn’t want to leave with anyone else but you.”

…

It’s impossibly hot out, humid too, and by the time one o’clock rolls around, he’s doing less actual work and more swiping away sweat before it drips into his eyes. Though he’s pleased with the progress he’s made, having already broken down the dilapidated porch, a huge pile of scrap wood all that remains of it, not much more to do now until he gets the materials needed to start building. 

“Cher?” He knocks on her office door, still shut, and he reckons it’s been shut since she slammed it earlier that morning. He thinks that he can hear the faint sound of typing, a small curl of guilt in his gut that he’s interrupting, but he knocks again, a little louder, the typing coming to an abrupt stop. 

“Hey, how’s it going out there?” She’s wearing glasses, thick, square frames that hang low on her nose, peering at him over the top of them. It stops his mind short for a moment, something new that he tries to quickly tuck away, but she still seems to catch his stuttered moment, her smile turning slanted as she pushes the glasses up and into her hair.

“Readers, can you believe that? I’m not even forty and I need readers. My doctor says it’s because I press my face too close to the screen while I’m writing, so chalk it up to occupational hazard I guess.” That makes him smile with a quick string of memories, her when they were kids, curled over her notebook with her nose pressed right alongside the quick scrawl of her pencil. Maybe not so new then. 

“Reckon I’ll need them soon too.”

“Well, I’ll give you a pair of mine when you do, I have about a dozen of them scattered in various places around the house.” She sighs, a glance over her shoulder to her computer, screen still on, mouse still blinking, and he remembers what he actually came to bother her for. 

“Just wanted to let you know that the old porch is all broken down. I’ll have one of the guys come by and pick up all the scrap in a day or two. Next step will be you deciding on what kind of wood you want the new one built with.” 

“Oh wow, you moved fast, huh?” He palms the back of his neck, just a bit bashful under her wide eyes and small praise. But then he realizes that he just showed her the huge sweat stain under the arm of his t-shirt, quickly dropping his arm back down with a shrug.

“It’s nothing, Cher, that wood was so rotten most of the work was already done for me.” 

“Thank you anyways, seriously, I– oh shit, is it really one already?” He realizes that she’s looking over his shoulder at a clock hanging on the wall outside her office, another long sigh deflating her shoulders.

“I can’t believe you’ve been working this whole time, Joel. Jesus, it’s so hot out– here–” She’s already on the move, and he just barely keeps up on her heels and into the kitchen. Whatever this is, this frantic and flighty energy, it’s definitely new. His protests fall on deaf ears as she bangs and barges around the kitchen, filling a glass with ice and water and– 

“We don’t have much to eat, and I know you aren’t exactly interested in tofu but–”

“Cher–”

“There’s a new sandwich place that I saw opened down the street? I forget the name but I could–”

“Cher, I–”

“I always have eggs in the fridge, not exactly lunch but–”

“Cherry.” Just enough volume, enough firmness for her to stop in her tracks, still that flustered look on her face, and it confirms what he had suspected. 

“Are you– are you nervous about something?” Another long sigh, the tense lift of her brow slackening as she hands him the glass of water, finally slowing down. 

“Do you want the truth?” He can’t help the short bark of laughter that comes out at her question, though she seems dead serious, looking up at him from under a rather timid pout.

“I’d prefer it, yeah.” 

“It’s gonna sound stupid.”

“Try me, Cher.” She rounds the kitchen counter to stand in front of him. He swears his heart jumps and jolts into his throat when she picks up one of his hands in both of hers, turning over his palm. He doesn’t dare move, not a muscle, watching the way her lashes drop down to her cheeks from the way she keeps her eyes focused on his hand.

“Well, I– oh, you have a splinter in your palm.” He is so completely uninterested in the fact that there’s a splinter in his palm right now, willing her to get back to whatever track she was just on, but she’s already tugging him by his hand through the house and up the stairs and into a bedroom, her bedroom, he thinks, and finally into her bathroom. And there’s no real thought formed in his mind as he watches her rummage in her medicine cabinet for tweezers, just that tightness in his throat and the strange kick in his chest. 

“Alright, quick pinch.” Something that a mother would say, his eyes prick with it, and not because of the swift pull of the splinter coming out of his palm. And she’s so close, her chin tucked down to look at his hand, her forehead almost grazing his. And her hand that isn’t daubing disinfectant into his palm is cupped so lightly beneath his own, her thumb stroking along the side of his. A small whisper of that’s better, though he doesn’t let her flit away when she’s finished, turning his hand to lace his fingers with hers. Her eyes stay focused on their hands, but he ducks his head down to finally catch her gaze. 

“Now what’s got you so nervous, Cher?” Quiet, something that she taught him how to do first, before Sarah did. How quiet he could be for her, and what a gift it was.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Joel, you.”

“What did I do?” The small curl of a smile, somewhere in the sway his forehead has pressed against hers so he can feel the ghost of that curve against his own.

“You’re here, in my house.” 

“Do you want me to leave?” So light, so barely, her nose brushing along the line of his. His eyes flutter shut with the sigh she lets out. 

“No, I very much do not want you to leave.” A fleeting thought, how easy this was two decades ago. How easy it was to reach out for her and now, now it takes every strung snap of his heart pulling and pulsing to close that space. But when he does, the world doesn't stop spinning, there is no orchestral swell. In fact, he can hear a car alarm going off outside. And it isn’t exactly good either, because the moment his lips brush hers, she is just as soon jerking her head away, a quiet curse in the back of her throat. Not exactly the reaction he was looking for.

“Shit, Cher, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have–”

“No, no, that one is on me. I just– could you– could we–” She takes another deep breath, like she’s trying to stop herself from tripping over any more words. He’s happy to fill in the rest for her.

“Try again?” 

“Yeah, please.” 

This time, he thinks it through a bit more. He brings his hand that isn’t held in hers to the side of her neck, his fingers curling around her nape, something steady to smooth out her fret. Nothing like this, not in years, though he wills himself to remember. A small one to the corner of her mouth, still an out, a chance to decide that no, big mistake, because if this goes any further, he doesn’t know if he could take no without falling to pieces. But she doesn’t pull away this time, her palm coming to splay against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt, the smallest tug to come closer. 

The next one is good. The next one is a shared sigh, a yes, please, this. Missed this. Missed the soft puff of her breath against his mouth before pressing his lips to hers. Missed that sound, that broken little thing in the back of her throat when he slips his tongue along her bottom lip. Missed the way her jaw hinges, opening up to him easy. Yes, he thinks, this feels easy. Like they never stopped. 

Neither of them speak, silent understanding in the shuffle of their feet, knees bumping into each other as they stumble out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. He should be more careful, he should be less greedy. He should, but. But she’s here, and she’s pressing the perfect length of her body against his, and she keeps kissing him, surprising him when she pulls away only to put her lips in that one patch of his beard that has never grown right, holding her mouth there like yes, she has always been right there. 

So he grows greedy with it, his hands almost unsure of where they would like to start first. Her hips, holding the frame of them, feeling that presence before his palms slip up under the hem of her t-shirt, warm skin and the notches of her spine, known and unknown at the same time. And he thinks to himself that it must be a New York thing, this no bra streak she seems to be on, but he’s happy for it, makes it easier for his palms to spread out over the planes of her shoulder blades, the fragile flutter of bone and muscle as she circles her arms around his shoulders. Her fingers slip under the neck of his t-shirt, seeking out skin the same as him, and suddenly that little worry, that little fear creeps in. He could excuse it as insecurity, that would be easiest, so he does.

“Cher, I– I’ve been working all morning and I’m pretty sure I smell and–” The words fizzle out in his throat when her nails scratch along his shoulder blades, holding him in place as she noses along the line of his neck, her lips coming to rest just beneath the hinge of his jaw. Still surprising him, she ducks her head down, pressing her face into his chest, an inhale that feels deeper from the rise and fall of it against where his palms are still splayed on her back. 

“Joel, I really don’t give a fuck about that.” No, no retreat, not now, her small nod enough for him to take a little more, to keep going. She wants this too. Wants him too. And maybe, maybe she never stopped. Because she’s moving like him, desperate like him, searching like him, so maybe like him, she never stopped. 

Each article of clothing is asked after. Is this okay? Yes, please, yes. Still okay? Yes, still okay, please, yes. Until she’s bare and so is he, and it’s the same, and it’s so very different. His palm settles wide over her stomach, fingers slipping down along the dark scar just over her pelvis, her breath tensing and catching there as he does.

“Ellie was a c-section.” She says it shy, her eyes focused on where her hand is curled around his bicep. 

“That right?”

“Hmm, nothing ever easy with that one.” He smiles against her temple, his palm dragging up, settling at the curve of her breast, earning a laugh from her when he squeezes just a little mean. Up even further, to her shoulder, to that tattoo, that blooming branch of a cherry tree.

“When, Cher?” 

“Three years ago, and this one–” She pulls his hand down the side of her body, all the way to her thigh where the bundle of chrysanthemums is inked. 

“Two years ago.” He likes that it was so recent. The small, childish part of his brain does, at least. That she was still thinking about it, that she wanted to keep thinking about it. Something big and proud pressing against his ribs, just so to make him bold enough to coax her back and down onto her bed. 

He keeps his palm on the chrysanthemums, only removing it once he has settled on his stomach between her legs, quickly replaced by the open heat of his mouth, dragging along each dark bloom. 

“You’re bigger, Joel.” His first instinct is to turn sheepish under her gaze, nearly ready to tell her that actually, he’s doing Atkins. But then he gets a better look at her expression, the heavy droop of her eyes and the soft, small part of her lips. And she’s looking at him, all at him. He puffs up with that look, coaxing her thighs over his shoulders, only wanting it to ache a little with how wide he has her spread open. 

“Can I?” 

“Please.” All the nerves he remembers from two decades ago, anxious to do it right, to make it right for her. Though that’s tempered beneath the throbbing want he feels, no room to be bashful when he’s hurting so bad for it. And no room to be precious about it either, dragging the flat of his tongue through her cunt, a groan already crackling in the back of his throat when she says his name like a sigh, long and languoring. He stills remembers her fingers in his hair, and he can’t help the way his eyes flick up to her face, brow pulled down deep and wanting, trying to ask for it without having to as he sucks and laps at her clit. And when he pulls his mouth away enough to spit on her swollen sex, only to chase right after it with his tongue, pressing into her clenching entrance with his jaw dropped and heavy, she finally gives him what he wants, her fingers threading through his hair to cup the back of his head. A light tug, always in charge. 

“Like that– so good like that– fuck.” That’s another thing he’s noticed, a new habit she must have picked up along the way, her words a little crasser, a little more swearing mixing with everything else. It both shocks and delights him that her bite got bigger through the years. 

His hips have started to jolt into the mattress like a damn teenager, but he can’t help it, not when he’s watching the way the tendons in her neck arch and jump as he slides one finger into her cunt, quickly followed by a second when she preens more, please, more. He rests his cheek on her thigh, a kiss to the crease of her hip as he fucks her open on his fingers, that close curl he remembers her liking making her stomach clench and her back arch. 

“Look at me, Cher, please.” It feels more like a need than a want, to have her eyes on him, to make this real, and he’ll beg for it if he has to, but her eyes are already cracking open, still half-shut, the downturned fan of her lashes barely lifting. But she’s looking at him, her lips parting as she watches him press his mouth over her clit, holding steady swirling heat and pressure, chasing down her pleasure for her. 

“Baby– I want– I want– I–” He didn’t know he was waiting to hear that, how badly he wanted to hear that, has been wanting to hear that. And now it’s all he wants, that word, from her, over and over and over. He smooths his other palm out over her pelvis, holding her steady even when she tries to curl back into the mattress, away from the insistent press of his fingers and the heat of his mouth. 

“Say that again, Cherry. I’ll give you everything you want if you just say that again for me.” Her head is tilted to the side, her ear almost on her shoulder as she looks down at him, her face crumpled somewhere between hurt and want. But it smooths out all at once, and he knows she knows, an I got you in the small smugness of her slanted smile. 

“Baby, you’re gonna make me come.” 

“Who is, Cher?” His words slur hot and heavy over her clit, and he can feel the muscles in her stomach jump beneath his palm. 

“You–” She cuts herself off with a stuttered whine when he lets his fingers stretch and curl inside her, though she continues on a drawn exhale youyouyouyou.

“Close?” He doesn’t need to ask it, he can feel it in the way she’s clenching around his fingers, in the way her slick is smearing against the inside of her thighs, against his scruff. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“You want it?” Another uh-huh and a jerky nod, her fingers curling tighter in his hair and her heel slipping down his back, digging into muscle as he takes and takes and takes. 

“It’s yours, Cher. Take it, it’s all yours.” She does, perfectly, with his name small and nearly soundless in her throat, her whole body curling up tight around him before going limp, slackening slow. Just a weak pull of her fingers in his hair and a mumbled come here, please, come here, to coax him up the length of her body. 

His cock rests hard and aching against the crease of her thigh, and he hasn’t wanted something so badly, so entirely, in a very long time. She rests her hand on his chest, letting her nails graze down his front, particular attention paid to his stomach, something that makes him grumble, though she’s smiling as she does it, eyes crinkling up. Smiling like that, here with him like that, all he can do to duck down to make sure that it’s real with his mouth against hers.

And no, he thinks, they’re definitely not doing this in the right order. Probably should have had a healthy, adult conversation. Probably should have done a lot of things differently before ending up like this. But she moves so good for him, and he hopes he can for her too, his hand curling around the back of her knee to hitch it against his hip, opening her up as his cock drags heavy and wanting through her swollen cunt.  No words when he presses his hips forward, to the very end of her, just open mouths breathing each other in, and stillness that makes his head spin in the impossible heat of her. 

“Cher, I– been a little while for me and I don’t– I’m sorry– I don’t think–” Soothing, her palm brushing back his hair from his face, drawing his eyes to hers and she’s still smiling. Not mirthful or mocking, just presence, just feeling it too, her other palm smoothing circles along his shoulders.

“It’s okay, Joel, just let me feel you. That’s all I want.” He can’t help the sound that skitters up his throat at her words, something broken and small, because she just keeps looking at him, eyes wide and reassuring, still brushing her hand back through his hair, taking care as he falls apart for her. And it’s devastating when he finally moves, a full tilt unraveling as they both let out sharp breaths, her spine curling off the mattress when he thrusts forward again. 

They take it slow but strong, each press of his hips driving them further up the mattress until he has to curl his forearm around the crown of her head to keep her from jolting into the headboard. And he was right, it has been a while, and it’s her, and he’s already embarrassingly gone. And it doesn’t help that she’s murmuring in his ear all the while, that it’s okay, just want you, Joel, just want this, just give it to me, I want it. 

He comes with his hips bruisingly pressed against hers, with her whispered praises swirling around in his skull, and with his heart beating so hard he thinks his ribs might break with the ache of it. 

“You’re perfect, Cher. Nothing like this, ever. Just you.” The words don’t make much sense to him coming out, his mouth pressed over her sternum as he speaks. He just knows he means them, softening slow inside her, half a mind to apologize for thinking with his dick, but judging by the way her ankle is still hooked around his waist, holding him close, he doesn’t think she minds. 

And no, he thinks, this doesn’t solve any of their problems. So much that still needs to be said and understood and relearned. So much that needs to be sorry, so sorry. Two decades worth of sorry. But right now, she’s dragging her fingers through his scruff to pull his face to hers and she’s kissing him, and her chest is sticking to his with their sweat. 

“Missed you.” He’s not sure if he heard it right, mumbled out against his chin. Such a small sentiment to span all that time. 

“Missed you too, Cher.” 

...................................................

taglist:

@casa-boiardi @tieronecrush @swiftispunk @beskarandblasters @trulybetty @amanitacowboy @pr0ximamidnight @wannab-urs @jksprincess10 @suzmagine @everything-isfucked @lanabobana @kittenlittle24 @sarap-77 @officerrrfriendly @val-srz @bitchwitch1981 @redwoodsanddaffodils @themothersmercy @romanarose @lost-inhawkins @youcancallmeelle @hollywoodcaligirl @harryleatherfit @fifia-writes @brighttears

[urfavsimpingfanficwriter]

PLEASE make a jim halpert x fem reader smut. maybe a little after hours in the office sort of thing 🫣🫣 and i would love if she gave him head before he bent her over his desk 🤗 anyways thanks so much lol

Also Find This On My AO3

I am so sorry this took so long to get to, Finals have been kicking my ass!

!!!SMUT UNDER THE CUT!!!

Word Count: 1139

Warnings and such: Smut; A bit of fluff; Fem!Reader; Oral(Male Receiving); Semi-Public Sex(Empty Office);  Fingering(Fem! Receiving) 

Let me know if I missed anything in the warnings!!

His smooth, yet veiny hands grip your hair as he pushes you farther down on his throbbing member. You gag as he hits the back of your throat, tears almost spilling out of the corner of your eyes. Yet the way Jim groans slightly every time you gag makes you moan, arousal pooling in your panties. The sounds coming from your throat cause a vibration, making him thrust up into your throat even more, fully bottoming out in your mouth. 

“Oh god, you’re gonna make me cum makin’ pretty sounds like that,” He chuckles, trying not to moan.

Your knees burn from kneeling on the grey carpet of the office for so long, and you knew your throat would be sore, but you didn’t care. You would do anything in that moment to please him, to make him come.

You tried to bob your head faster, your teeth barely grazing his dick, your tongue circling his tip for a few moments before you are gagging on him again. Your hands are grasping his thighs as he sits on his desk chair. You clench your thighs together, trying to gain as much friction as possible to appease the ache in your lower stomach, and moan around Jim. 

His member twitches a few times before he unloads ropes of cum down your throat. You swallow around him a few times before he moves you off of him, and, while taking a few gulps of air, finish swallowing him. 

He looks down at you for a few moments, scanning your figure, seeing your mascara and tear stained face, your plump lips, and your thighs squeezing together. 

He smirks and quickly stands up. He reaches his hand out, and helps you off of the floor, picking you up and setting you on his desk, pushing some of his and Dwight's trinkets onto the floor. 

You giggle, gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. Your lips smash against each others, his tongue licking your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You open your mouth slightly, his tongue pushing into your mouth, the both of you groaning in unison. He slowly lays you down onto your back, never breaking the kiss, his hands wandering your body. His warm fingertips find the hem of your skirt, toying with the fabric, his skin slightly grazing your inner thighs.

You moan into his mouth, slightly thrusting into the air, and he slowly pulls away from the wet kiss. You start to whine in protest before he lifts up your skirt to reveal your soaked panties. He presses his thumbpad to where your clit would be underneath your panties, and you gasp. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna make you feel real good, okay?” He murmured, not looking away from the damp patch in your panties. 

You nodded, looking at him with lust filled eyes, and quietly groaned. 

He glides his hands up and down the inside of your thighs before hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them off of you. He tosses them on the floor to the side of the desk, then redirects his attention to your button up blouse. He slowly, agonizingly, takes his sweet time undoing the buttons until your bra is fully exposed. You sit up slightly so that he can unhook your bra from the back, exposing your breasts, the nipples perked at the sudden chill from the air around you. 

He kisses your neck, making you gasp and lean into his touch. He slowly makes his way down your body, leaving little marks here and there, until he reaches your breasts. He looks up at you and takes one nipple into his mouth, massaging the other with his hand, pinching at it a bit, causing you to squirm. 

You moan, wrapping your legs around his waist. He smirks, and swirls his tongue around your nipple as his free hand trails down your waist, making its way to your wet, throbbing pussy. As he sucks at your nipple, he slowly inserts a long finger into you, his thumb finding its way to your clit. You gasp in response your breath picking up in pace, and grasp at his shirt. He slowly thrusts his finger in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit with increasing speed and pressure. 

You groan, arching your back, forcing his finger to reach deeper into you.

He moves his head back up to your neck, whispering into your ear. 

“You gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart, or I can’t give it to you. Go on, tell me.”

“More,” You moan out, grinding into his hand.

“More what, baby? Use your words,” Jim spoke with a smirk, looking down at you.

“More of you, I need more of you,” You spoke, moans interrupting your speech.

At that Jim takes out his finger, his thumb stopping its movement of your clit. You almost cry out at the lack of friction before you feel him lining himself up with your entrance. He inserts himself into you, a little at a time, making sure you are okay. Your pussy clenches around him. You moan, the mix of pleasure and slight pain feeling astonishing. 

When he finally bottoms out in one final thrust, you moan out his name, causing him to groan.

He begins to thrust in and out of you slowly, every thrust picking up the pace and force. It isn’t long before he is pounding into you, his desk slightly shaking at the force of it. The wet squelching sound of your arousal could most likely be heard from outside the office doors, and maybe even down the halls, but who cares. He moves your legs up to where they are hooked on his shoulders, giving him a new angle, making it so he could go even deeper into you. He continuously hits that spongy spot inside of you, making that knot tighten even more. 

“Ji- Jim! I’m close,” you moan loudly at Jim.

“So am I baby, so close,” He responded, groaning at the pleasure.

He thrusts a few more times, and the knot inside your stomach unravels, your legs trying to force close, your nails clawing into the desk, leaving faint marks in the wood. You clench even harder around him, and feel him twitch a few times before he pulls out, unloading onto your bare stomach. 

You both are breathing heavy, and he leans down, kissing you on the forehead. 

“You did so good for me baby, made me feel real good,” He mutters into your hair.

You put your hands on his cheeks, guiding him into another kiss. You feel him smile into the kiss, and he murmurs into your lips, “I love you.”

You smile, and pull away looking into his eyes, “I love you too.”

[riotwritesthings]

Come on, Baby, Won't You Give Me Some?

WinterIron - M, 700 - Fluff, Humor, post-confession, post-coital, afterglow, aftermath

After the confessions and the getting together, Tony and Bucky revisit an old conversation. Namely, ‘clothes everywhere, everyone’s sweaty and sore and covered in bite marks.’

This has been sitting in my drafts forever and idk I'm just on a finishing things kick. plz enjoy.

Sequel to I Want Love in the Aftermath

~

With a final groan, Tony lets himself collapse down on top of Bucky. Their sweat-slicked skin slides together in a way that would no-doubt have Tony’s cock trying to fill again if he were just a couple of years younger, but as it is all of his muscles feel like pulled taffy and Tony isn’t even sure he can move at the moment.

“Holy fuck,” he sighs into the warm skin of Bucky’s throat, more than a little stunned at just how unbelievable that had been. Tony is no stranger to crazy amazing sex, but holy fuck.

Bucky lets out a hum of agreement, his hands moving over Tony’s back. After a second he adds “I think your elbow is digging into my spleen.”

“You’re tough, you’ll live without your spleen,” Tony says and doesn’t even pretend to consider moving. His thighs are starting to ache and protest being spread wide on either side of Bucky’s hips, but that’s not going to move him either.

“Heartless,” Bucky says with a heavy sigh that has his chest rising and falling, and Tony along with it.

“That’s not what you said earlier,” Tony points out, a wide smile taking over his face. He lifts his head just enough to point his grin up at Bucky as he teases, “You said that I have a giant heart.”

“I don’t remember that,” Bucky says with a sniff, and he’s doing a terrible job of fighting down the smile growing on his face.

“Yup,” Tony says, popping his lips on the last letter, but his teasing tone is ruined by the fond warmth that fills his voice as he continues, “In fact, you said you love my giant heart, you just can’t stay away.” He waits while Bucky makes a couple of thoughtful noises, like he hadn’t said those exact words an hour ago, and then Tony adds, ”Also, my ass. I very distinctly remember you saying that you love my ass.”

“I sure do,” Bucky acknowledges with a huff of laughter, and then rolls over onto his side without warning.

Tony makes a sound caught somewhere between a squawk and a groan as he’s dumped onto the mattress, Bucky’s cock finally slipping out of him in the process. Once he stops bouncing slightly, he doesn’t hesitate to throw an arm over Bucky and snuggle in closer with a lazy sigh.

When he catches sight of his arm, though, Tony’s eyes widen. He lifts his head again so he can start taking inventory of the clear teeth marks that litter his skin, along his arm and all across his chest. There are hickies down his stomach, covering his thighs, and Tony laughs abruptly as a memory comes back to him.

“What?” Bucky asks, eyebrow raised and lips twitching like he’s trying to decide if he should be offended or laugh along.

“You weren’t kidding about the bite marks,” Tony says with a wiggle of his eyebrows, “‘the aftermath’ indeed.”

Bucky’s eyebrows pull together adorably in confusion before he clearly remembers the same conversation that Tony did. The one from several months ago, when they each walked into the kitchen only to be ambushed by most of the team demanding to know their preferred term for afterglow.

Tony doesn’t remember most of the conversation, but he definitely remembers Bucky’s answer. It had haunted him and he’s feeling pretty pleased that he finally got to experience it firsthand, especially when a smug grin starts to spread across Bucky’s face.

“Whoops,” Bucky says, dry and not at all apologetic, and Tony laughs as he sidles in a little closer.

Bucky pulls him in with a low, happy sound, brushing the hair away from Tony’s forehead before placing a kiss in the same spot. They lapse into a comfortable silence, tangled together and running their hands lazily over every inch of skin that they can reach. Tony makes a soft noise of complaint when Bucky pulls back just enough to look down at him, but reluctantly squints his eyes open.

”I never asked,“ Bucky says, like he can’t believe it’s just occurring to him, ”what was your answer to that question?“

Tony actually has to think for a second before he remembers, and then he feels a heated smirk spread across his face.

“Foreplay,” he says, and isn’t surprised at all when Bucky yanks him into another kiss.

[rikas-things]

Diabolik Alcoholik part 8

|||Summary: Yui isn't sure she believes these boys that she's tasked with staying with are true vampires, but when Ayato (with the suggestions of Laito) states that he wants Yui to suffer punishment, she's put in a conundrum! What will she do? And what will happen next?

Happen to stumble across the series and need context? Click the link below to get a list of all available chapters! 🩷

Happy reading!

~~~~~~~~~~~(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)~~~~~~~~~

Why won't I move? What's wrong with me?

Yui's mind flooded with these thoughts as the twins' hands zoomed closer to her like of vision, and black, hazy blotches crept around her sight until everything faded to black.

When she woke up, she found herself flung into the wall of darkness.

After her ears and back ache from pain, she willed herself to move and adjust herself.

The room was dark, with the only light afforded to her was the dim light from the hallway, showcasing how late it was.

She could make out the shapes of Ayato and Laito standing over her too.

Once Yui got her bearings, she sprung on her back and pointed at them.

"You...where are we? Where did you creeps spirit me away to?!"

She couldn't see their faces, but the annoyance in Ayato's huff was more than evident.

"Hey slowness, this is your room."

She blinked as she squinted her eyes, examining every nook and cranny of the place.

As if on command, the curtains skirted backwards to let in the moonlight and she was able to properly take in some of the room's features:

The walls had pinstriped patterns and held some of the posters of boy bands she had back in her home as well as her favorite flower stickers.

The bed was large and had an elaborate floral pattern on the sheets, with some of her pillows shaped like the flowers on her hairpin.

The desk also shared the same floral pattern and design and there were even tulip shaped pens in the pen holder as well.

When she turned to the large sliding window, she saw it had a balcony.

The idea of a large room with a fancy balcony was always Yui's dream.

Her own room, one that wasn't constantly cluttered with furniture or music equipment that she could just be herself in, where no one could take her pens or kick her out or treat her like she was an eye sore...

The attention to detail would have normally made her thrilled, but knowing that these people were supposedly folks she never knew until now made her shiver.

Bile grew in the back of the throat and she grimaced at the flowery room.

"My..." her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Ah, good," Ayato's satisfied pur interrupted her train of thought, "you're getting the picture now."

She looked up at him with wide eyes, seeing the malice in his large lime-green eyes.

They looked like they were almost glowing- figuratively and literally - with excitement at her discomfort.

"Pretty isn't it?!" Laito said merrily. "Reiji did the decorating!"

"You're kidding!" Ayato guffawed at the news, the malice edging back from his eyes, if only a little, "you mean stuffy ass Reiji is into girly stuff like that?!"

"Well, when I say Reiji did it, I really meant he just told Jenkins and them to do it," Laito admitted sheepishly.

"No shit," Ayato rolled his eyes playfully, keeping the smirk on his face.

He then turned towards Yui and the two of them circled around her like vultures.

"Hey, Laito, let's quit dicking around. I'm sure she's anticipating our fangs!"

They chuckled at her squirming, her brows raised and her breathing haggard as her legs and arms twisted uncomfortably behind her.

As they eyed her, Laito cocked his head, keeping his smirk.

"How did you want to punish her?" He asked without looking away from Yui.

Ayato turned and smiled sweetly at his brother, his eyes gleamed with excitement.

"Wanna have a contest for who bites her the most?"

Laito shared his child-like glee.

"M'kay! Fine by me!"

With no time to spare, they quickly cornered her, with Yui's back against the wall.

"W-wait!" She began to plead, "let's t-talk about this!"

Of course her pleas fell on deaf ears, their advances not stopping, their hands outreached and inches away from her.

She stood up as they grew close enough, their fangs gleaming in the moonlight.

A pathetic whimper escaped her lips as she felt the tears fall, the thought of their biting causing her to stir more.

As one last ditch effort to get them to stop, she screamed, her voice breaking as one of them grabbed her throat.

"GET BACK!!"

******

Time was irrelevant for them, but it felt like hours had passed since Laito and Ayato had played the drinking game with Yui, and it was only a matter of time before they could tally up to see who won.

Laito, despite being satisfied with the work he had done, was ready to see what became of his efforts.

Both he and Ayato had blotches of Yui's blood all over their clothes, hands, and mouths, and her lingering smell improved both of their moods.

Laito himself felt like he could level a mountain, which he didn't remember feeling so refreshed after drinking a human's blood before.

Where did this taste come from?

And why did it feel so familiar?

Eh, he never liked dwelling on the unnecessary details, and was ready to examine her already, though Ayato seemed to have other plans.

"Hey, Big Bro, you ready yet?"

Ayato huffed as he turned towards his brother.

"Ugh, dammit, Laito, shut up, you made me mess up my count!"

Laito pretended to be hurt by his words.

"You're so mean. But you aren't cheating by sneaking in bites, are you?"

"Like I'd need to do that against you?"

He restarted his count, mumbling the numbers until he was done counting her back.

"305, 306....400!" Ayato grew smug.

"See, I told you I'd win! I got the most bites off her back compared to your measly 209!"

"Hey! You can't count like that! What about the rest of her body?!" Laito said accusingly.

"Why bother with the rest? I already won, idiot!"

"You dirty cheat! I bet I beat you! I bet you snuck bites while I wasn't looking!"

Ayato glared at Laito.

"What you say?!"

As they argued, Yui just laid on the carpet floor, her body involuntarily shivering.

She looked like a thimble with the amount of holes covering her arms, legs, back and face, with most of her expression obscured by her bloody hair.

What was left of her shirt were tatters, as it served to show even more egregious bites near her chest.

Some were red and irritated, while others were still bleeding and stained her rags of clothing.

She struggled to move, but got up nonetheless, which caught Laito's attention and caused him to stop arguing.

His deep green eyes grew wide at her before a big smile formed on his face and he flailed his arms like a cartoon character.

"Wait, Big Bro! Look at her! Quick!" He said as he pointed.

Ayato harrumphed.

"Don't try to derail the conversation, you jerk!"

"No but look, Ayato! You might like it!"

Curious, he turned towards her as he wiped a bit of blood off of his face.

Yui's face, despite all the bitemarks and blood on her body and clothes had a... pleasurable expression.

Tears were streamed from her eyes but her eyes were dazed as a wide Cheshire grin was plastered across her face as she hugged herself.

She giggled darkly as if she was ecstatic and went into a mad cackle, not seeming to notice the boys.

Despite her expression inspiring amusement in Laito, it all but brought disgust to Ayato as he reeled back, looking like he wanted to throw up.

"Ewwww! She's drooling on herself and shit!"

"I know! Isn't she breathtaking?" Laito asked proudly.

"Laito quit smiling like that! That's gross!!"

"Huh? Why you being so mean all of a sudden?"

"Ugh, whatever."

He smirked at Yui, who was still a giggling, drooling mess.

"I figured punishing you in your room would be the best bet, seeming as it's considered a safe space. You don't deserve to feel safe. You don't deserve to feel comfortable. This is payment for defying me! Understand?"

She stopped giggling and looked at him in bewilderment, as if Ayato was speaking a foreign language.

He shrugged and prepared to return to Laito for the tally results when he felt a familiar presence enter the room.

He whirled around and when he looked, right between him and his meal, Ayato was eye to eye with his middle brother, Kanato, who wasn't holding his teddy this time.

He held Yui close to him before flipping his twins off and disappearing as quickly as he came.

Ayato and Laito just stood there for a moment, stunned at what took place before them.

Laito immediately started panicking.

"What the hell was that?!" He said as he paced around the room. "You saw it too, didn't you?! That runt took our prey right?!"

Ayato folded his arms, eyeing his brother.

"Calm down. That little rat just scurried away is all. Once we get him alone, we'll teach him a lesson he'll never forget."

Laito gave a dark smile.

"Yes. Kanato will rue the day he interfered with our plans!"

Barging in unannounced, Reiji came into the room.

"There you are, it's almost time to-"

He did a double take by cleaning his glasses.

"Are you serious?! Not only are your clothes dirty, but there's parts ripped! What do you think you're doing looking like pigs in a mud pen?!"

He grabbed their ears and forced them out of the room chewing them out for messing up their school uniforms, yelling over their protests to not pull their ears off.

[txmbstone]

Hi there. Will you write what Curly Bill and Johnny Ringo are like when they get jealous 🤷‍♀️🤗

Oh my gosh you have no idea how excited this request made me 😂 (ignore this is hella late life has been kicking my ass lately) i also got carried away with Johnny’s but that’s alright

Curly Bill

If you thought this man would stay silent about the matter you are sorely mistaken

The moment he sees any one else catching your attention he is immediately heading over

He doesn’t really have a plan he just knows the outcomes can range from embarrassing the hell out of the poor sod trying to get your attention to a house fire to actual murder (seriously get him a little doped up on opium and he is out for fucking blood)

He just strolls on over, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world, thumbs tucked in his sash and his spurs clicking with his every step

Gives you that big bright smile full of teeth and eyes glimmering with violence

And just plants one right on your lips. No hello, no warning, just a big ole smack on the lips so hard you literally stumble back a moment and he’s got his arm around your waist to pull you in even closer to him

“Sorry I took so long, doll. Got a little caught up in private affairs.” He croons, ignoring the man entirely, pretending he doesn’t even exist. (He knows the men in this town, he knows that they crave attention more than anything, and he finds it absolutely rewarding to watch their faces deflate when they see you’re taken.)

He’ll keep his hands on you until the man clears his throat, catching both of yours attention, and that’s when the game begins

Brocius is an asshole about it. Unlike Johnny, he uses his words, and will catch the attention of every Cowboy within shouting distance to stake his claim. “Looks like you’ve got something that belongs to me, thank you for keeping them occupied while I tended to business,” his hand travels to the butt of his gun, playing with the hammer in warning

He nearly cackles when the man’s face loses a few shades of color, stuttering over apologies as Brocius leads you away

Johnny Ringo

I hate to admit it but he doesn’t really show his jealousy but lemme explain

Johnny is so secure in himself and your relationship he knows — deep down he knows that you would never try something. You both are so incredibly attuned with each other and your trust knows no bounds

That doesn’t mean that little green dragon doesn’t flare up every now and then

He likes that you both have your own independence (so he can hide the awful things he’s done from you and all your ‘golden glory’ as he calls it) but there’s also a small part of him that wants you all to himself. He wants you so carnally there are days he physically has to stay away from you or else the thoughts in his head are going to push him over the edge just at the sight of you smiling at him

So when this ravenous man sees you talking to some dressed up gentleman at the bar while you went to get a drink he’s immediately going balls to the wall

He won’t show it, but when you give the gentleman a polite smile and make your way back over to him, that’s when he ups the ante

And this man is absolutely sinful

Just as you’re about to sit in your chair next to him, he’ll grab you by your waist and plant you firmly in his lap. And right in view of everyone — and especially Mister Soon-to-be-six-feet-under — plant a hickey right on your neck while his free hand makes work of remapping its way around your body. He presses you so close into his body you can feel the outline of his bullets on his bandoliers through your thick clothing, and try not to look the gentlemen in the eye as Johnny practically manhandles you in plain view

It’s fun for you, to know that you can still rile up the infamous Johnny Ringo, and enjoy the sudden attention even when the man leaves

“That was mean, Johnny,” you tell, taking a sip from his glass

You notice he pays specific attention to your throat as you swallow, not even trying to hide the immense pride he gets at seeing the bruise starting to form. “He’ll get over it.”

[transitioningpirate]

i've been on T for a little over two weeks now (15 days today, october 18) and i haven't noticed a lot for obvious reasons but i have noticed some things, like:

voice cracks. a lot of voice cracks, and my voice sounds rough, like i have a sore throat. it doesn't hurt at all, and it actually sounds deeper! two (02) people have commented on it, but to be fair, their exact comment was "have you been screaming?"

increase in appetite. which is... i knew it was a possible side effect, but it's much more than i expected, especially since i haven't eaten very well these past months (college is Kicking My Ass) and suddenly i'm hungry, like, all the time. it's actually kind of good for me, because it's forcing me to eat more, and i end up eating healthier, like, i eat better too!

i've been sleeping better? though i'm, like, 99% sure that's just a psychosomatic effect. i've definitely been much, much happier just with the idea of becoming the person i've always known i was deep down. it's significantly increased my mood and my self esteem, even if the effects aren't apparent yet. just the idea of it has made me so much more hopeful! i'm so glad i've made it this far and i get to make it even further!!

oily skin. so oily. the fuck? i mean, i was thoroughly warned and i was ready for it, but it's still more than i expected. i have to wash my face like four times a day now :v soooo annoying

cw: slightly nsfw content. a lot of sensitivity down there. i don't know if it's necessarily bottom growth already, but i've noticed by touch that it seems a bit, enlarged? is that the word? it's a bit bigger. and a lot more sensitive. certain poses i used to sit in, for instance, are almost a bit painful now. it doesn't actually hurt, just bothers a bit, it's only some really specific positions and, well, sensitivity has it's upsides, you know?

im so much warmer?? i feel so hot all the time - in the literal sense!!!! like, okay, im currently living in a state known for being hot and dry and we're getting to november, also known for it's heat waves around here, but seriously, it's so hot. everything is so hot, im running warmer than usual, and ive been sweating so much and i cant sleep without a ventilator in my room anymore! it's also an expected side effect, but it definitely didn't pair well with the state im in for college

more energy! i honestly do believe this is related to #3, though. i don't think it's anything physical, especially because to get to college there's this slope i have to walk and everytime coming home i'm always exhausted and out of air, and that hasn't changed, but for little things - more energy to study, to cook, to clean the house, even at work i've been more proactive and i don't feel as tired as i used to! definitely an upside, though it's probably psychological, i'm fine with that and i'm still so thankful!

[matchamilkislover]

In The Darkest Corners, 4.

pairing: vi x fem!oc (reader with a name basically)

warnings: mature themes, just an overall minors beware, violence, just general arcane-ness.

word count: 1,525

synopsis: finally leaving the brothel, olive is hopeful vi found a lead. unfortunately, it’s not exactly the lead she was looking for - but it’s exactly the lead vi wanted to find.

authors note: there will be more explicit violence in this chapter because…reasons. vi being the main reason. anyways, hopefully i’ll get chapters 5-11 uploaded shortly after this one.

don’t forget to read parts 1, 2, and 3 first!!

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

Olive awkwardly bid the woman in the fox mask goodbye and followed Vi through the doorway. The conversation wasn't half bad — but she knew what the woman would expect had she stayed much longer. She released an audible sigh as they exited the brothel and the smoke changed to a smog.

"So you're no stranger to Babette, huh?" Vi asked teasingly.

"That's none of your business," Olive responded with a scratch in her throat, like just the thought was upsetting her.

"Whoa, my bad, didn't mean to hit a sore spot." Vi lifted the hands in her jacket pocket as an informal defensive stance.

"So where are we going now, anyway? Did...Babette have any information?" Olive asked, desperate to change the subject.

"We aren't going anywhere. I'm following the lead Babette gave me, but it's better I do it alone. I'll find you later."

"I'm sorry, what? If you've got a serious lead, I'm coming with!" Olive exclaimed, her face knotted with offense and surprise.

"No, you aren't." Vi's eyes hardened as she stopped and stared Olive down, like she was committing some crime by wanting to be involved in her own investigation. "This is something I need to do myself. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't seem like much of a fighter, and I don't want to deal with being in charge of someone else's life right now." Her voice was firm. Olive knew she wouldn't bend.

"Fine." Olive crossed her arms. "As long as you don't get yourself killed before we figure this shit out."

Vi winked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

—

Olive grumbled to herself as she trudged to her shamble of an apartment, cursing herself for not trying harder to stick up to Vi. Not much of a fighter my ass, she thought. She hasn't even seen me fight! She sighed, knowing it was no use to argue about it with herself. She'd just have to wait and hope that Vi kept her word about finding her. Unless...

Once inside her apartment, she headed straight for the pack she'd been living in since she first left her old home with it. Deep at the bottom, where she hoped she would never have to reach, her hand curled around a metal object. Pulling it out, Olive took a long look at the pistol that once felt warm in her hands. She always resented the shooting lessons and tournaments that her parents forced her into, but now that she actually had a use for her unforgotten skills, she started to understand just a little bit why they enforced it so much. She gripped the weapon tighter in her hand, then checked that it was still loaded like she remembered before standing up and walking grimly out of her apartment.

Olive scaled the walls of the tallest building near her and began to travel along the raised pathways, jumping over gaps and scaling more stories as she needed to. While this wasn't her favorite form of travel, it would be the best way of spotting whatever Vi was getting herself into. She suddenly stopped when she heard Vi's voice.

"Filthy traitor!"

Olive got down low and peeked over the ledge she was on. What she saw was Vi slamming another person's face into a wall. Ouch. Upon taking a closer look, Olive gasped when she recognized Vi's opponent. Sevika? Olive herself had always stayed as far away as possible — that bitch was scary as hell. But she was also giant, with a metal shimmer-powered arm. The fact that Vi was holding her own against her, and actually kicking her around, was impressive.

And hot.

Olive followed the fight as it moved, watching as they slammed each other through walls and made hit after hit. When Vi launched Sevika through a wall into another alleyway, Olive cursed and quickly leaped across another roof and rushed onto a raised walkway to keep track of the fight. She watched as Vi grasped Sevika's throat and held her down with her boot, growling something to her that Olive couldn't pick up. When Sevika replied, she watched as Vi's face slipped into shock and her guard started to come down.

That was when Sevika stabbed her through the abdomen.

Olive gasped in shock, and after a moment she came back to herself and started fumbling to get her pistol out, cursing her stupid fingers. She felt helpless as she watched Sevika kick Vi down from where she was already crawling on the ground and then walk around to pull her up by her chin. Then Sevika raised her arm, about to recharge. Olive knew instantly that she was aiming to kill. Without a second thought, she pointed her pistol at the vial of shimmer that was about to recharge Sevika's arm, and shot. The vial burst open, shocking the great brute long enough to give Olive the chance to keep shooting. She aimed for her now failing arm again and again, but her target quickly jumped back into action, growling at Olive when she spotted her before dodging her shots and running off.

Olive instantly leapt down to the alley Sevika had left Vi in, calling out her name desperately as she rushed towards her. She shoved the pistol back into her holster and knelt down to check that Vi was conscious, or at least alive. To her relief (and surprise) Vi looked at her with a weak smile and held a hand towards Olive.

"You gonna help me up or not, cupcake?"

Olive sighed and pulled Vi up with both arms after holstering her pistol, laying Vi's arm along her shoulders so that she could hold most of Vi's weight while she still walked.

"Stop calling me that, my name is Olive," she said in a tone of half-assed annoyance.

"But you're so sweet, like a cupcake," Vi replied with a smile in her voice.

Olive rolled her eyes but kept helping her along down the alleyway in the opposite direction of where Sevika had gone. A shiver suddenly ran down her spine when she heard shouting and running in their direction.

"Shit," she hissed under her breath, about to hoist Vi more onto her figure so that they could speed up.

"Start running," Vi said, suddenly quickening her own steps with a painful groan. Olive did as she was told and started rushing down alleyways, taking whatever turns and detours Vi instructed her to. They slowed to a stop in front of a ledge that housed levels of scaffolding below it.

"Are you sure you can do this in your-" Olive was cut off by Vi leaping down on her own, and Olive rushed to look what she was doing just in time to watch her slam herself onto a horizontal pole, but keep launching herself down.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" Olive cursed in hushed tones before following her lead. She did her best to avoid throwing herself around like Vi had done, but this wasn't exactly an easily navigable path. She dropped herself next to Vi and put her arm out to stop her before she started trying to move again.

"My apartment is just down the next alley, we can go there," She gasped, still trying to catch her breath. Vi nodded and, surprisingly, let Olive continue helping her as they made their way to her apartment.

They struggled up the steps, but soon enough Olive was kicking open the door with her free leg and led Vi to the mat that she used as a bed. The latter groaned and let her head fall against the wall as she shifted her hand that was covering her wound.

"Let me see," Olive said gently, reaching to move Vi's hand and then her shirt that was blocking her full view of the wound. She winced, seeing just how wide and deep Vi's wound really was.

"You're not a bad shot, Cupcake," Vi groaned, trying to lighten the mood.

"I'm a great shot," Olive retorted with a sigh, moving to search for whatever first aid supplies she could make out of her few belongings. She found a clean cloth and some alcohol, and turned back to Vi to clean her up.

"This is going to sting," she warned before pouring a bit of the alcohol on the wound and quickly covering it with the cloth to soak everything up. Vi groaned and hissed in pain.

"You're not even gonna give me some of that stuff before you start pouring it on me?" She asked with a grimace. Olive shot her a glare and stood up.

"You need some sort of medicine for this." She stated, looking out the one tiny window in her apartment.

"Good luck on finding that," Vi retorted with another groan.

"I'm sure I'll manage. I'll be back soon." Olive turned and started towards the door, but Vi spoke again suddenly.

"Olive, I...Thank you," she almost whispered.

"Anytime," Olive replied casually before heading out the door and back into the Lanes.

Once outside, she cursed herself for being so confident in finding medicine in the undercity. This wasn't going to be easy.

[autumntouched]

*at a sports bar*

*hangman flirting but looks like he’s basically harassing phoenix because they get borderline verbally abusive during football season*

bartender: excuse me ma’am, is this man bothering you?

phoenix: yeah but he’s my husband so i kinda signed up for it

she probably gets pulled into the bathroom during halftime after that

Oh dear, I'm sorry this one took so long. It's more suggestive than spicy but proceed with caution...

Fantasy Season

Natasha throws her arms up when the Eagles’ defense manages to bat the ball out of the air before it can sail into the hands of the Cowboys’ tight end. “Yes!” she cheers. They’re the defense for her fantasy football team, and if they keep playing like this through the rest of the game, she’s going to bump Payback out of the top spot in their Dagger Squad league. 

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Jake demands loudly enough to be heard over the bar’s chatter and the volume of the game. “You can’t wear my jersey and cheer for the other team!” 

She takes a hefty sip of her beer and licks the foam off her upper lip, enjoying the way it makes the corners of his frown go slack. “Can too, when my fantasy team is kicking your ass.” 

He scowls, and she smiles sweetly. Having to cheer against his team for her fantasy win serves him right for swooping the 49ers defense before she could, and she’s going to make sure he never makes that mistake again. Jake props his arm on the bar and leans in, his face so close to hers she goes almost cross-eyed keeping him in focus. “Babe, you either cheer for the Cowboys or take the shirt off!” 

Natasha tosses her hair and takes another sip of her beer, her eyes flicking to the television where the Cowboys offense jogs off the field for a time out. “I don’t think that’s going to end the way you want it to,” she says casually. “I may or may not be wearing a see-through bra. With matching underwear, if I’m wearing any.”

Jake swears and nearly knocks over his own drink. She’s also going to make him regret dragging her to this bar on her birthday weekend because the TV in their hotel room wasn’t big enough for him. 

The Cowboys take their positions again on the field, and this time Prescott completes the pass to Lamb who makes it to the ten yard line. Fuck. That’s Jake’s fantasy wide receiver.   

“Boom!” he shouts, slapping his chest, the last part of their conversation momentarily forgotten. He turns and gets in her face. She back pedals, trying not to laugh and egg him on. “Now who’s kicking who’s ass, huh! What you gotta say to that? Disrespect the jersey and you get disrespected back!” 

She notices people starting to look their way and presses a palm to his chest to slow his roll. "Okay, cowboy, rein it in."

Jake shakes his head. "Uh uh. You want to mess with the bull, baby, you better be ready for the horns."

Someone clears their throat. “Excuse me, ma’am, is this man bothering you?”

Natasha looks over at the bartender leaning forward over the bar, her heavily eyelined eyes narrowed dangerously at Jake. Despite her neat ponytail, long nails, and crisp button down, it’s clear anyone should think twice before crossing her. Her nails click a warning on the wood, somehow audible over all the noise. 

Jake deflates some and takes a slight, involuntary step back. Chuckling, Natasha brings up the hand with her wedding rings. “Yeah, all the time. But he’s my husband so I kinda signed up for it.” The bartender doesn’t look fully convinced yet, even though she seems a little less ready to throw a throat chop across the bar. Natasha grins, deliberately not looking at Jake when she says, “The thing about marrying a winner is he can be a sore loser when his wife kicks his ass in fantasy football.”

That finally wins the bartender over, and she winks. “Okay, as long as you say so. But if he gives you any trouble, you know where to find me.” 

Natasha elbows Jake playfully in the ribs. “Believe me, I think he’s going to be on his best behavior for the rest of night so I already have enough to thank you for. Aren’t you, dickhead?” 

Jake gives the woman a friendly salute and one of his most charming grins. “Yes, ma’am.” 

The bartender laughs throatily and moves away, gesturing jokingly with two fingers to let him know she still has her eye on him. Natasha bumps Jake with her hip. “Saved your ass again, didn’t I?” she smiles before taking a sip of her beer. 

He slides an arm around her waist and pulls her into him. “So you married a winner, huh?” 

"Did you hear what I said about kicking your ass?"

"Was that before or after you admitted that I'm a catch?"

She can’t stand how much she loves his smug expression. “Don’t make me regret what I had to say to keep you out of trouble.” 

Leaning in as if he’s going to place a kiss behind her ear, he whispers, “Can’t believe you made me lie to that pretty lady because I’m definitely not going to be on my best behavior when I find out whether you're telling the truth about what you’re wearing.” 

After that, she can barely focus on the game, too aware of his presence and simmering desire beside her. When Jake glances toward the bathroom during halftime, she gladly follows. Natasha’s not sure which of them feels more rewarded when he figures out exactly what she does–or doesn’t–have on under her jean skirt but she enjoys the taste of victory either way.

[darklordofthesimp]

Oh my god I’m so sorry. Covid absolutely sucks and it KICKED my ass when I had it, here’s some things that helped me—

- drink a FUCK tonne of water. Like I know that gets said a lot, but you need it.

- honey helps with sore throats. just deadass eat it with a spoon if you need to.

- SLEEP. SO MUCH. I assume (at the very least HOPE) you’ve got sick leave, and sleep as much as you can, and as much as your body tells you you need to. I was sleeping like 10-15 hours a day with multiple naps because that shit is DRAINING.

- ice and cough drops help if you have them. Tea and other warm drinks also help, taking hot showers or using steam tents (idk wtf they’re called in English??) helps with dry/sore lungs.

- tart cherry juice helps with muscle cramps and soreness, I think it also helps with joint pain but I’m not sure.

I really hope you feel better man, getting sick on top of an already overwhelming time fucking sucks absolute balls. Please take your time getting better and remember you don’t owe us your creativity and your health should always come first. It’s okay to take a while to get on your feet, we’ll still be here when you come back 🩷🩷🩷

Thank you so much I’m not gonna lie I had a proper mental breakdown when I found out I had it l. I’ve never had it before and I don’t know wtf to do.

I’ve lost smell and taste, I get fevers like every 5 hours and I don’t know if I’m hungry or not like I can’t tell if I’m full??? I almost threw up earlier cos I was overheating after fasting accidentally for like 20hours but then the second I took a breath I couldn’t tell that I was full????

Has anyone had that????

I’ve got no desire to drink water so I’ve been trying to down a few cups a day it’s so bad man

Thank you so much for the advice I just want my taste back 💀