#he told me once when he was talking about how cheap he was

[ckret2]

Chapter 51 of human Bill Cipher is once more the Mystery Shack's prisoner: Dipper and Mabel try to figure out what the Axolotl's poem means; Dipper gets the hang of astral projection; and... whatever's going on up there happens.

####

Ford and Dipper came back into the shack through the gift shop; Ford didn't want to risk crossing paths with Bill. While Dipper went into the house, Ford went down—returning to the safety of his subterranean study.

Once Ford had put on the old black trench coat he'd worn during his multiversal travels and gotten comfortable at his desk, he pulled out Journal 5 to document the events of the last few days. In a cheap ballpoint pen, he wrote, I've lost my #1 Grunkle pen (and favorite coat) to the waters of Lake Gravity Falls. And then, deciding this didn't adequately express his feelings, he drew a small frown. That coat had served him well for decades, and he'd really liked that pen. It did write excellently, and it had reminded him of his gniece and gnephew.

He spent three pages documenting the eclipse—what happened, what readings he'd taken, what he and Dipper observed—and then another four pages talking about Bill. What he'd told them, why Ford had dismissed it; his claims about a trans-dimensional axolotl distorting gravity with its migration; the statue, the rescue, the breakdown.

The act of writing always helped Ford clarify his thoughts and untangle mysteries; it wasn't until he was writing that he realized the limbs Bill had said he couldn't feel were the ones that had broken off the statue.

He listed the rules of the chess variants he could remember Bill inventing. He drew Bill huddled in front of the board, grim, tear-streaked, exhausted; and then scratched out his face, embarrassed at the thought of immortalizing such a raw moment for his private viewing.

He wrote, There's still a slim possibility that the entire "eclipse," start to finish, was Bill's masterfully-orchestrated scheme to make us pity and trust him; but it's unlikely. Although Bill is fiendish enough, he isn't currently powerful enough, and his lies certainly aren't elaborate enough. If he could pull off such a byzantine ruse, then he could just as easily escape—and if he can escape, why hasn't he? Bill may be insane, but he's never been THAT irrational.

And so, even as twisted as Bill's idea of "friendship" is... for the very first time, I'm convinced that he was telling the truth all along when he said he wants me as his friend. It's not an act. He risked his life to save someone who's an active threat to him.

And at the end of it all—though I'm grateful to be alive in spite of my own stubbornness—do I like him any better for it?

Ford leaned back and shut his eyes, sifting through the inner tumult of anger and old hurt that defined most of his memories of Bill, looking to see if anything had changed.

There was a sore, tender spot in his emotions, a place beginning to rot with remorse; when he prodded at those emotions, he found that it was shame over his own harsh conduct of the last couple of days. But he was only ashamed of how cruelly he'd acted; he wasn't ashamed that Bill was the one he'd done it to.

Outside of that tender spot—regret over his own behavior—nothing else had changed.

No. I still hate him. I'm grateful to be alive, but I hate him. He hasn't undone anything he did to my family and me, and he never will. Forgiveness can't be purchased with favors.

I'm only relieved at the certainty of it. Bill has committed an act that can't possibly be a lie. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he's shown me the truth; and the truth is he'd rather see me alive than dead. Whatever other lies he may tell, I can hold on to that fact.

Bill's miserable eyes peered out at Ford between the scribbles he'd drawn across his face. It was truly a pity that Ford had to hate him. Pity that Bill hadn't been somebody better. He could have been better.

Ford couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed that he'd filled four pages talking about the monster he'd already wasted so many more on. Bill had been right about him: You might hate me to my face, but behind my back you're as obsessed with me as ever. The only thing Bill didn't understand was that hatred and obsession weren't mutually incompatible.

####

"Hey, Dipper," Mabel said, unfolding the living room sofa bed. 

"Hey, Mabel," Dipper said, passing through living room on his way to the stairs. He climbed up to the attic.

He came back down from the attic. "Mabel. Why's Bill asleep in your bed."

"He really needed a nap," Mabel said.

"Okay but why on your bed?"

Mabel pouted. "Dipper, do you realize he's never slept on a real bed? Ever?"

Dipper tried to imagine sleeping on a couple couch cushions on the floor every night. "Yeah, okay, that does kinda suck." Even if it was Bill's own fault he wouldn't sleep in the living room.

By unspoken mutual agreement, having a Bill in the bedroom followed the same law as finding a centipede in the bathroom. The law was "that's the centipede's bathroom now." So once the folding bed was set up, they sat on it to serve as their hang-out spot for the evening and caught each other up on what they'd done the last couple of days.

After Dipper & Co. had left, Grenda had come over to take advantage of the low gravity to retrieve the kite that had been stuck in a tree near the Mystery Shack since last summer (it was, tragically, too tattered to salvage), and then they'd gone over to Candy's house to photograph each other performing feats of impossible strength. (Mabel would be sending some pictures to their parents to confuse them, and adding the rest to her summer scrapbook.) She'd spent the next day breaking the trampoline world record until Soos came outside and said gravity was probably too low for it to be safe to be up in the air anymore, if Bill's warnings about being off the ground when gravity hit zero were true; at which point Mabel had hung around inside air-swimming until she suddenly slammed against the ceiling, and then the ground. She was fine. She just had a couple of bruises. She showed Dipper her bruises.

In return, Dipper told Mabel about how their quest had gone: the checks for micro-rips, Bill's increasingly frantic warnings, the lake—

("You got to see a bajillion magical axolotls and I didn't?!")

—the cliff, the Axolotl, Dipper's near-death experience, and what he now knew about his out-of-body dreams.

"Seriously?" Mabel hissed, eyes bugging out. "And he had us looking up lucid dreaming books! What a jerk!"

"I know! He could have just ignored the whole thing, we didn't even think it was anything but dreams."

"And I'd thought he was being so helpful, too! Like he was really trying to make up for giving you 'nightmares'!" Mabel laughed in disbelief and flopped down on the flimsy mattress. "All that because he just didn't want us to know how it was really his fault? Biiill, ugh."

His fault. Dipper hesitated, wondering whether he should tell Mabel what Bill had said about Mabel's Fault; then decided against it. Bill had probably been telling the truth when he'd said he only wanted all the credit for Weirdmageddon.

But—Dipper did tell her about Bill saving their lives. He would have felt like a liar if he hadn't—like he was trying to trick his sister into thinking Bill was worse than he already was. He hoped Ford wouldn't mind; but how could he not tell Mabel?

"He could have just let you die and didn't?" Mabel turned that over in her head, processing this sudden shift in Bill's behavior. "Wow. I'm impressed."

He also told her about their previous encounter with the Axolotl. Considering the other lies Bill had told recently, anything he said about them meeting the Axolotl was dubious at best; but Dipper could remember the Axolotl, so maybe some of it was true, even if Bill had twisted as much as he could. ("The Axolotl said hi, by the way." "Aww. Tell him hi back!" "Yeah, I... don't know how to do that.")

Dipper laid out his journal between them on the folding bed, and Mabel read over the couplet a few times. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches from within birch trees'..."

"It's got to be talking about Bill," Dipper said. "Equilateral triangles have three sixty-degree angles. I just don't know why the Axolotl wanted to talk to us about him."

Mabel frowned at the lines. "I think... I remember meeting him too," she said.

"You do?"

"Kinda. Like in a dream," she said. "We were in some kind of futury space race car. And he had a really comfortable beanbag chair."

"Yes! I remembered the beanbag chair, too!" And he hadn't mentioned it in his journal. "This is great! Talking about it must... must cause us to remember, somehow. Maybe since the universe where we met the Axolotl doesn't exist anymore, our memories of it are... detached or something? Psychically floating around between dimensions until we try to remember them?" He took in Mabel's skeptical frown and shrugged. "I don't know!"

She scrunched up her face. "Ugh. Last summer's first-grader time travel was complicated enough. This is like college-level time travel. Maybe we can ask Bill how it works?"

She said it so easily, like she thought it was actually a good idea. Right after she'd heard about the lucid dreaming thing, too. "I don't think he'd help." Dipper lowered his voice. "He really didn't want Grunkle Ford and me to find out about the Axolotl—and he kept telling me not to think about what the Axolotl told me. He's trying to cover something up."

"Oo-oo-ooh." Voice dropped to a whisper, Mabel said, "Do you think it's some kind of Space Axolotl conspiracy?"

"It could be," Dipper said. "All I know is he was trying to tell us something important about Bill. Some kind of prophecy, or... maybe a warning...?"

He trailed off. Mabel had stopped listening to Dipper. She was rereading the couplet Dipper had written, moving her lips like she was murmuring under her breath—but whatever she was saying, it was much longer than the couplet Dipper had written down. Distractedly, she said, "Do you have a pen?"

"Yeah, here." Dipper quickly handed over the pen he kept in his vest.

Mabel clicked it, went to the bottom of the page, and wrote: A different form, a different time.

Dipper sucked in a sharp breath as the words snapped into place in his mind. "That's it! That was the last line! What else do you remember?"

"That's it," Mabel said. "It was free form poetry with a bunch of rhyme pairs."

"I don't think free form poetry rhymes."

"Pbbbt." Mabel blew a raspberry and shoved Dipper's face. "Whatever! You know what I mean." She pointed at the last line. "Do you think the poem's about why Bill's here? He time traveled to the Mystery Shack in a new body..."

"Exactly! Bill must be back here for a reason. He's got all those powers—or, used to, anyway—and he knows more about the multiverse than anybody on Earth... Maybe there's some kind of big threat coming, and Bill's the only one who can stop it, and—and the Axolotl wanted us to know...?"

"I like the sound of that," Mabel said. "That'd basically make him a hero, right?"

Dipper grimaced. "I mean. I guess? But we're talking about Bill. If he does help us stop a threat, it'd be like if a serial killer picked up a hitchhiker and killed him, and then it turned out the hitchhiker was an even worse serial killer."

"That still sounds kinda heroic to me."

"Pfff, okay." He looked at his journal. "But... what is he here to do?"

Mabel considered what they'd already written. "Maybe we can use him to spy on our enemies through birch trees!"

"Thaaat's probably not it."

"No, I think I'm on to something. I can feel it."

There was a lot of empty space between his couplet and Mabel's line. "There's more we're missing, though. Maybe the rest of the poem describes the threat? Or what we need to get Bill to do?"

"I can't remember anything else, though."

"Me neither."

They stared at the page together, waiting for something to come to their blank minds. Mabel looked at the fish tank. "Hey, Primrose! Do you know anything?"

The pet axolotl in the tank ignored her serenely.

Dipper said, "'Primrose'?"

"Yeah, last summer Grunkle Stan said her name is Freakface, but I thought she deserved a cuter name. She's primrose color!"

"Ford says he originally named him Nikola."

Mabel gasped. "Nikki..."

Dipper twisted around to look at the axolotl. "Do you know anything? Do you... get messages from the Axolotl's heralds, or anything...?"

Nikola slowly opened his mouth, and slowly closed it.

Mabel said, "Hey. The Axolotl's one of those dimension-crossy time-travely guys, right? He probably wouldn't have given us a prophecy in the wrong timeline and then made us forget it unless he knew we'd remember it in time in the rightdimension!"

"I guess," Dipper said uncertainly.

"So we don't need to worry about it! We'll remember it when we need to."

"Unless this timeline's going to branch, and the only one where we survive is the one where we put all our effort into trying to remembering—"

"Shhh!" Mabel put a finger over Dipper's mouth. "Uh-uh. No college time travel. We'll be fine!"

Dipper pushed her over. "Okay, but we should at least try a little to remember what the Axolotl told us."

"What if we work on it separately?" Mabel propped herself up on an elbow. "Instead of just sitting around thinking about it. And whenever we remember a line, we can tell each other and see if it makes anything click."

"That might be faster," Dipper said, stroking his chin. "We're already remembering different lines."

"Yeah! And that lucid dreaming book said something about focusing on a problem before you sleep so you can figure it out in your dreams! We can just work on it in our sleep and we'll remember it all in no time!"

Dipper laughed. "What? No way, I think lucid dreaming is just one of those made up pop psychology things. I didn't get it to work at all." Either it didn't work or Bill had deliberately recommended a terrible book.

"I did! I can remember like... eighty percent more dreams. And I can tell when I'm dreaming a lot more often!"

"Huh." Or, maybe Dipper just wasn't doing it right. "Maybe I need to start over from step one. Do you know where the book we were using went?"

"Over here!" Mabel had set a couple library books on the end table next to the sofa bed; she pulled out the second one, which had a glittery pink bookmark with a cat on it stuck two-thirds of the way through. "Just don't lose my bookmark."

"Thanks." He'd reread the first step before bed. "We should probably be getting ready for bed anyway, huh?"

"Seriously?! It's barely bedtime!" And when the adults weren't watching, official bedtime was an hour and a half before Actual Bedtime.

"I'm exhausted. I just hiked up and down a mountain and faced down death."

Mabel pointed at Nikola. "You faced down a big salamander."

"Close enough."

They went upstairs, brushed their teeth, went to their bedroom...

And stopped in the door. Bill was still asleep. "Oh. Right," Dipper said.

He was curled into a ball on his left side, facing the wall, covered with only the zodiac blanket and his borrowed/stolen top hat sitting on the side of his head. He didn't use a pillow; he'd pushed Mabel's pillows and dolls behind himself to form a squishy makeshift fortress.

"Please don't wake him up," Mabel whispered. (She'd already set up the folding bed for herself; she'd clearly planned on this.) "He's had a really really hard time the last couple of days, and I think he needs as much sleep in a real bed as he can get, and it's just for one night, and I'm sure he'd rather sleep than do anything evil—"

"He said something, didn't he?"

Mabel paused. "Yeah. I think seeing his body really messed him up."

Dipper sighed. "We were trying to keep him away from it." He didn't want Mabel to think they'd forced him to stare his own death in the face. "But he did that... eye thing and looked through the trees, and..."

Mabel nodded.

Well. Dipper couldn't kick him out now. For Mabel's sake.

As children, occasionally when they got hotel rooms with a bed too few, their parents would stick them in one bed with a barrier of pillows in between them. At age thirteen and without two crabby parents trying to get them to just go to bed after a long plane flight, they unanimously vetoed that plan. Dipper decided against asking Stan if he could sleep in Ford's unoccupied bed, both because he suspected Stan would just go upstairs and drag Bill out of the room and because he didn't want Stan to think he was scared of Bill. He wasn't scared of Bill. Not anymore. He could handle one measly night in the same room as him. Anyway, somebody had to make sure he wasn't unsupervised in their bedroom all night, right?

Dipper and Mabel quietly set a floor mirror and old lamp next to Mabel's bed, draped a sheet between them, taped on a pink poster that said "WARNING! TRIANGLE ZONE!" and was covered in stickers of triangular objects, and decided Dipper was adequately shielded. If Bill did get up during the night, he'd probably trip through the sheet and wake half the house before he got anywhere near Dipper.

Dipper went to sleep with a baseball bat in his hands.

####

"Okay," Bill said, hands on his sides, "what am I looking at here?"

The feral band members of Sev'ral Timez turned toward Bill, eyes reflecting in the dim light. They were squatting around Bill's petrified corpse like a pack of apes examining a sleek black monolith.

"Hey girl," Creggy G. said.

"Hey," Bill said. He looked down at himself. His onyx black feet hovered over the ground and the yellow glow from his exoskeleton illuminated the clearing. "Lemme cut to the chase, is this gonna turn into a raunchy dream? My corporeal love life is about as cold and dry as Antarctica, I keep hoping one of my dreams will get a little hotter and wetter—"

"Nah, G," Deep Chris said. "Mr. Bratsman got us fixed."

"Aw."

"We're here to pay you reverence for freeing our minds from the chains of the conventional," Greggy C said, gesturing to Bill's corpse. Leggy P was kneeling and bowing to it and Chubby Z was posing for it. "We want to help free you like you tried to help free humanity."

Bill's eye narrowed. He tapped a finger against the edge of one brick as he considered this offer. Finally, skeptically, he said, "Fine. I'll bite. Why should I think you can help me?"

"Because we can give you the understanding your heart's been missing, girl. You're just like us," Chubby Z said. "A horror never meant to exist, born of a dream to construct the perfect golden idol, forced to dwell within an unnaturally-fabricated human shell."

Bill tilted his head thoughtfully. "I'm with you so far."

"We want you to join us," Deep Chris said. "Cavort with us in the silvan night, G. Shun the harsh light of the spotlight for the healing salve of moonbeams. We'll get drunk on the sweet fermented summer berries, uncaring of how the brambles prick our flesh. We'll dance in a frenzy of ecstasy and only sleep when the morning sun lifts the dew from the flowers and the sweat from our skin. It'll be straight Dionysian, boo."

"We can kiss the hot trees," Creggy G said.

Bill grabbed his shoulder. "Oh, you're the human that keeps making out with birch trees! I knew your face was familiar!" He paused. "So... are there any eligible ones around here?"

"Sure, girl, just downstream."

"If I'd known, I would've polished myself first."

"Say you'll join us, Bill girl," Deep Chris said. The band crowded around Bill to either side, posing around him—the backup dancers for the star singer. "You'd be one of us."

"We're already exactly the same," Creggy G said, holding up a mirror so that it reflected his and Bill's faces beside each other. In Bill's human face were two empty white eyes with pinprick pupils and pale blue irises, exactly the same as the eyes of the Sev'ral Timez boys.

He sat up with a gasp, hands flying to his face. There were still green boughs at the edges of his dreaming vision, blending into the wooden boards of the Mystery Shack's attic. Before sleep had fully fled his mind, he seized up the zodiac blanket draped over his body and stared into his embroidered eye.

The eye stared back at him. Through it, he could see his horrified sleepy face, and his normal slitted yellow eyes. His connection to the blanket's eye disappeared as he finished waking up.

He heaved a sigh of relief and flopped back down. He'd been lucid, but he hadn't been in control of that dream. He still needed practice.

He rolled toward the light of the window, groped around beneath it until he found his journal, grabbed up his crayons, and flipped pages blearily until he found the first blank one. He started writing down his dream, pausing only briefly as he tried to figure out how to translate "Sev'ral Timez" before settling on a sufficiently goofy way to misspell "several times" in Plaintext.

He made it halfway down the page before he stopped. Hold on. This wasn't his beautiful journal. These were not his beautiful crayons. He checked the cover and grimaced in displeasure when he saw a pine tree rather than a hand. Dipper's journal. Bill ripped out the page, ate it, and set the journal and Mabel's crayons back on the table  under the bedroom window.

"What was that," Dipper asked, "some kind of Morse code?"

Bill yelped and twisted around. Dipper's soul was hovering above Mabel's headboard, watching over Bill's shoulder.

"Hey! Back, foul ghost!" Bill snatched up Mabel's pillow and swung it at Dipper.

"Ow—Hey! How did you hit me, I'm in the mindscape—"

"I said back!" Bill swung again, chasing Dipper off the bed. "Back into your fleshy tomb!" He climbed off the bed, stumbled into Dipper and Mabel's trap, tripped through the sheet and probably woke up half the house.

He yanked the sheet off and flung the pillow at Dipper by its corner. "Now get back in your body, go to sleep, and leave me alone."

"I don't know how to get back in it. I just wait until it happens by itself," Dipper said, floating irritably over his sleeping body, arms crossed. "Why do you think I just wander around every time I have this dream?" He paused. "Right—it's not a dream, is it."

Bill sighed heavily. "Try putting your body on like..." He almost said like an exoskeleton, remembered his audience, and amended himself: "Like it's clothing. I usually start with the hands. Just like putting on gloves!"

Dipper looked at the cold fingers wrapped tightly around the baseball bat. "How do I put hands on like gloves? There's no opening or—"

"Just try it, would you?" Bill sat tiredly on the edge of Mabel's bed.

Dipper shot him an irritated look, but pressed his ghostly hands against his fleshly ones, passing through the skin until one set of fingers rested inside the other. A fingertip twitched. 

Bill gestured with one hand, continue. "Now the sleeves."

"I know how to get dressed." Dipper laid down in his body, forearm into forearm, shoulder into shoulder—until he was wholly back inside. He sat up, awake. "Huh."

"There, see?" Bill said. "And if you want to take it back off, just do the same thing in reverse. Like degloving your body from your soul!"

"Did you have to phrase it like that?" Still, Dipper tried it, peeling out of his body from the fingertips up. He left his body sitting upright as he hovered over it.

Bill chuckled tiredly. "Lookit your face, staring at nothing. Stupid looking."

"Shut up." He slid back into his body, more quickly now that he knew what he was doing.

"Great," Bill said. "Now that you know how to get back in your body, never do that again." He flopped back onto Mabel's bed and rolled over to face the wall. "It's a pain in my base having you wander around all night."

"Then you should've thought of that before you ripped my soul out of my body," Dipper grumbled. "Can you reattach me to my body?"

"Sure, easy." He lifted a hand to point down at his regrettably human form. "Not like this, though. Wanna help reattach me to my body?"

"Never in a million years."

"Then come back in a million years. There's nothing I can do for you until then." Bill dragged Mabel's zodiac blanket back over himself. "So sorry. Go to sleep. Leave me alone."

Dipper bet Bill could do it and was only saying he couldn't to try to trick Dipper into helping him. But he lay back down—clutching his bat again—and shut his eyes.

After a moment, Bill asked, "Where's Mabel? Sleepover?"

"Sofa bed in the living room."

"Right."

And then there was silence.

Several minutes passed. Dipper nearly fell back asleep. He heard Bill climbing out of bed and creeping across the room; but the footsteps didn't approach Dipper's bed, so he didn't open his eyes.

A few minutes after that, Dipper heard him come back, walking more heavily. He cracked open an eye to see what Bill was up to.

He was carrying Mabel, who was still asleep; his arms were trembling from her weight, but even at that Dipper hadn't known Bill was that strong. With a quiet grunt, he set her on her bed, then haphazardly tossed her sheet and zodiac blanket over her. He picked up his top hat from the bed and put it on; and then he wandered off, footsteps quiet as a ghost, and Dipper heard the creak of the door as he left the bedroom.

That was a lot nicer than Dipper had expected from Bill. Maybe he did care about Mabel in his own way.

Mabel rolled over and latched on to one of her dolls. Dipper shut his eye and fell back asleep.

####

(My favorite part of writing this was Bill dreaming about Sev'ral Timez saying the most absurdly flowery things imaginable. Anyway, let me know what y'all think about this week's chapter! And reminder that I MIGHT skip next week or the week after because the next couple chapters need heavier editing than usual.)

[alphajocklover]

Possessed by the Power of Thor

**hey guys! This story was requestioned by someone in my dms who prefers to remain anonymous. I still wanna give them a shout out for helping me refine the story and challenging me to try something new. I’ve never done anything with macro or giant growth before so here goes nothing! Hope you like it!**

Ronald Blake loved superheros. He absolutely adored them. That might not seem so unique at first, after all most nerdy teenagers love superheros. Hell with the movies and the popularization of what was once considered fringe, geeky culture, most people loved superheros. A lot of jocks liked superheros. But Ron was absolutely obsessed. His bedroom was a shrine to his favorite heros, with posters and shelves of memorabilia covering the walls. His meticulously cared for comic book collection took up 3 closets, and was only allowed to be read with gloves. Ron would spend every day in his room, reading and rereading comics, dissecting how they worked and the tropes they used. Ron’s favorite superhero was Thor, the joy of almost sharing a name with his original secret identity (yes Thor had a secret identity once, as Ron will happily tell you) having sparked a lifelong love of the character. Normally none of this would be a problem. Sure Ron was fairly obsessive, but a lot of people got that way about their hobbies. The issue was that Ron used comics as a way to avoid life. Ron was, to put it crudely, fat and shy. The 19 year old had been overweight as long as he could remember, and though he had plenty of online friends, could barely talk to other people in person. He spent almost every day holed up in his room, losing himself in the fantasy of his comic books to try and forget how depressed he was.

That's what made the fact that Ronald was outside today so surprising. Usually the only time Ron left his room was to see his mom or to go to a convention. But today Ron was after something special. He had found someone selling a perfect replica of Thor's hammer, Mjolnir. There were plenty of people selling replicas like that, but this one was incredibly cheap, high quality, and even came with a base that it would be stuck to unless someone used special gloves to remove it. It was literally perfect and so cheap that Ron couldn’t resist. Normally he’d be more suspicious but the sellae had great reviews, and the pictures of the replica were many and detailed. Still he had insisted on seeing it in person before buying it. Ron had expected to open the door to find a fellow out of shape geek excited to show off his latest work and get some money. What he found instead surprised him. The man towered over Ron, and looked more like he belonged in a gym than talking to someone like Ron. He grinned confidently and greeted Ron with an incredibly firm, manly handshake.

“You’re Ron right? Ronald Black?” He asked with a charming grin

“Uh, B-blake actually. R-ronald Blake.” Ron said, shaking off his shock. The jock in front of him grinned wide before continuing.

“Like Donald Blake from the earlier comics. I guess it’s fate that you’re buying the replica. I’m Clark, Clark Keen.” Clark said with a charming grin as he hesitates for Ron to come in

“Like Clark Kent. That’s a c-coincidence. T-though you look more like Superman than I do like Thor…” Ron said with a slight self deprecating chuckle. Clark didn’t seem to notice

“Thanks man! I spend a lot of my free time working out. Muscle helps a lot when you're making things out of metal.” Clark said with a grin as he led Ron to his backyard “Now, there is something I have to tell you about this replica. The reason I’m selling it for so cheap. It’s… flawed.” Clark admitted. Ron’s heart sank to his chest. “I would have told you online but by the time I realized I hadn’t included the mistake in the seller info you were already here. See, the guy who engraved the writing on Thor's hammer made a typo. A big one.” Clark said. Clark opened the door, and revealed the hammer.

It was an incredible replica. Detailed, made of quality, lightweight, but realistic looking materials. Despite its intricacies it still looked just as intimidating and strong as it was supposed to in the comics. Ron could swear he even felt an aura of power coming off of it.

But the inscription was… off. It was supposed to say the phrase ‘Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.’ There had been some small changes to it throughout the years, like making the he into a she when Jane Foster became Thor for a while, but that was the original words, the iconic ones that had lasted through the years.

That wasn’t what the hammer said

It read ‘Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall BE POSSESSED BY the power of Thor.’

Ron was devastated. He thought he had finally found an amazing cheap replica of his favorite comic book weapon, only for it to have a huge flaw. Sure it was a simple typo, but memorabilia like this was all about the details. It would be the first thing all of his online friends noticed. Clark could see the heartbreak on Ron’s face and tried to soften the blow

“I know it’s a bummer, but it’s still quality work. You’ve come all this way, why don’t you at least hold it. See how it feels in your hands.” Clark suggested. Ron was skeptical… but he might as well give it a try. Maybe he could ask how Clark made it. He seemed like a nice enough guy. Ron went over to the hammer with a strange sense of trepidation. As he wrapped a hand around the handle of the replica and lifted it up, he felt… strangely accomplished. He knew it wasn’t actually Mjolnir, that being able to lift it didn’t actually mean he was worthy of anything, but he allowed himself to lose himself in the fantasy and feel proud. That was until a horrible shock surged down his arm, causing Ron’s arm to seize up. He groaned in pain, and tried to drop the large hammer, but was unable to let go. What was happening? He felt like he was being electrocuted. He looked over to Clark in a panic, only to see a satisfied grin on his face. Ron began to panic.

“W-what did you do? What is this!?” Ron asked in fear. Clark calmly walked over to Ron, grabbed his hand, and led the disoriented man out to his backyard as he explained.

“See Ron, you may not know it but you’re a very lucky person. You live in a world without supervillains. Sure, you have your own issues, but you aren’t terrorized by city destroying monsters in shitty masks. Not every reality is so lucky.” Clark said cryptically, before continuing “There are worlds out there, other realities, that need heros. I find these world heros. Or, if there aren’t any to find… I make them.” Clark explained. Ron felt another shock wrack his entire body, like electricity in his veins. He was so consumed by his pain that he barely noticed as he began to grow, shooting up in height until he was an inhuman 10 feet tall. His shoulders widened to span more than 3 feet between them. Simultaneously, his fat melted away and the space it had occupied and more was soon taken up by enormous bulging muscles. They each grew to inhuman proportions: biceps alone like watermelons, pecs so large and jutting out so much they were in size similar to pillows…very hard pillows, abs so defined there are no words and legs long and wide enough with muscle to make all the muscular proportions fit, even look handsome. His jaw sharpened as his hair grew longer. He didn’t look like himself anymore or any human for that matter. He looked too tall, strong, handsome…like a god. Suddenly Ron understood.

“You’re… you’re turning me into Thor?!” He asked in shock. Ron had fantasized about being a superhero before, especially being Thor, but the actual prospect of being Thor was overwhelming. He couldn’t be a superhero! Before he could further panic, Clark interrupted

“While, not exactly. See the world you’re going too is one where people can grow to incredible size. You’re not just going to be Thor. You’re gonna be the biggest version of Thor ever.” Clark said with a smirk. Ron wanted to panic, but he felt strangely… confident? Almost cocky even. Suddenly Ron felt another shock as he shot up even higher, becoming even taller and more muscular. He continued like this for a while, growing in increasingly large spurts. First he shot up to 20 feet, then 50, then 200. By the end of the growth he was, well…

…600 feet tall, with muscles as big as mountains. Even with his massive height he had the proportions of a bodybuilder. No, of a god. That’s what he was after all. A fucking god. Somewhere in all the shocks and growth spurts Ronald Blake had been lost, and Thor Odinson, the giant cocky god, was born. This version of Thor seemed to have quite the ego on him, even more than his regular version. He ran a hand through his long, thick blond hair, a smirk on his handsome face. He chuckled as he saw the SHIELD helicarrier fly nearby. Midguardians were so puny it was almost pitiful. Still, he was a merciful god and loved playing the role of superhero. A familiar voice broke his train of thought as an equally gigantic version of Superman appeared behind him, a large grin on his face.

“So, you ready to save the world?” Superman asked. Thor held his giant hammer tightly, a confident, charming grin on his face. Fuck yeah he was.

[britneyshakespeare]

There's no reason not to tip at a restaurant in the United States of America unless you are either A) a confused foreigner who has no idea that if you don't tip, your waitstaff WON'T GET PAID FOR THEIR WORK or B) a selfish asshole.

If you can afford the luxury of going out to eat, your budget for that expense best include a tip. If you don't wanna pay a tip, go get fast food. Buy food at a convenience store. Cook for yourself. Whatever. Loads of other options that are more cost-efficient for consumers than going out to eat anyway. If you are demanding food that is SERVED to you hot then you best be prepared to PAY FOR THE SERVICE YOU ARE DEMANDING.

The tipping system is fucked up in the way that workers' income relies on the politeness and generosity of random members of the public, and that it's completely legal for them to be stiffed out of their regular earnings by cheap assholes. I wish I didn't have to personally do my part in making sure my waiter can make rent at the end of the month. I wish they just got compensated regularly for their work like any other job! But they don't, and everybody knows that, and I still sometimes go out to restaurants and order food, so while that is a reality and I am contributing to that system I will make sure to compensate the servers for their work as I am reasonably expected to do.

IF YOU ENCOUNTER A WORKER WHO DEPENDS ON TIPS FOR THEIR REGULAR EARNINGS, THEN FUCKING TIP THEM SO THEY CAN AFFORD TO LIVE

[chososdiscordkitten]

I'm Stuck!

artist: yunonoai on twt

Synopsis: Gojo buys new washing machines nd chooses a shitty placement for em ⸜( ´ ꒳ ` )⸝

Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader Content: smut, implied reader is thicker than a snicker, established relationship, teasing, r gets stuck between a wall nd said machines, dirty talk, multiple orgasms (f), a sprinkle of manhandling, he refuses to admit he's wrong, cream pie

(a.n) if u wanna see what I picture- look at this

MDNI

When you first moved in with Gojo, you became all too aware of the fact that he was very particular about his design choices. Almost all your suggestions were vetoed the minute you would offer them.

And when the cheap washing machines that came with his apartment broke; You saw this as an opportunity to control at least one room in the now-shared apartment.

You stood beside Satoru in the laundry room- eyeing the small space and telling him, “If you put them here,” referencing the back wall of the rectangle room, “-it’ll feel more open.” you pointed at the wall. Looking at his pensive expression. 

Gojo was just petty enough to ignore your suggestion. Holding a measuring tape and looking at the 28-inch mark. “The website says they’re this big-” looking up at you as he measured. 

Even if you were kinda right- Satoru wanted to put the washer and dryer pair on the opposite side. Leaving only the entrance of the small room- and a small gap between the wall and the massive machines. 

You parted your lips- about to speak. Remembering the photo Satoru had shown you of the machines- far better and more modern than the old ones that opened at the top. 

These new ones had doors that opened outwards- and as you looked at the gap between where the machines would go, and where the wall was. You were sure they wouldn’t be able to open fully. 

But you held your tongue- knowing Satoru would mull it over for a few days before telling you that you were right. 

The space was small- sure. But you were sure it was enough space to fit through, and besides, how long would Satoru let those machines sit in the wrong place before calling someone to help switch their placement. 

On the day of delivery, Satoru looked at the machines as though they were his pride and joy, like he was the one who did all the washing in the house. 

The way the handymen looked at your idiot boyfriend was laugh-worthy. “They’ll go against that wall”, he instructed. 

You were sure the men struggled more in placing them where Satoru instructed than if they just flipped them and pushed them to the back wall. 

Satoru generously tipped them for their efforts, and once they left, you stood at the small doorway. Looking at the washing machines placed against the wall as though it were a laundromat.

“I hate saying it-” he clicked his tongue, leaning against the machine and looking at you smugly. “But I told you so~” 

You grinned- amused at how right he thought he was. You winced, “Do me a favor real quick-” fighting off the laugh about to rumble from your chest. “Open one of the doors.” 

Satoru furrowed his eyebrows at your request, dragging a hand down to the circular door. Smugly popping it open, only to hear it ding against the wall. You puffed a small laugh from your nose at how his face fell. 

“And..” you started, walking towards him and fwipping your hand up and down- guiding him to move. 

Stepping into the small gap between the machine and the wall with the door open, and letting a small giggle leave your lips as your thick thighs pressed against the metal. 

Satoru looked down at your hips that were flush against the machine- he measured how much space the machines took up. But Gojo didn’t account for the space you would need to do laundry properly. 

You turned your head, looking at him over your shoulder. Watching him pull his lips to the side, thinking up some snide remark about how he was still right. 

Even a week after having those machines in the most inconvenient place- Satoru refused to admit he was wrong. He refused to call the handymen back and have them move the machines where you told him to. 

You were more affected by his mistake than he was. Bothersome little doors that had hit you more times than you could count when they would bounce off the wall. 

And all the times you would feel your hips brush against the open machines- you would furrow your eyebrows. Recalling how petty he could be. 

Truth being- Satoru hadn’t called the handymen to fix the minor problem because when you first stepped into the small space of the laundry room- Seeing your thighs press against the machine made him hope you would get stuck one day. 

As though he had manifested it- the day came.

You were doing laundry per usual- struggling with the stupid doors and growing more and more irritated by the second. 

And when you thought you were finally finished- slamming the dryers door shut and hearing it whirr. 

You turned around to see a discarded sock on the ground, thinking nothing of it and stepping back into the small space- hips pressed against the slightly protruding door of the dryer. Picking up the sock with a small huff. 

Straightening back up and aiming to take a step back. Only to feel resistance from the wall- you tried shifting with even more strength. Only for the wall and machine to refuse to let you go. 

You looked to the machine- recalling all the times this very same scenario had happened. Wondering what went wrong this time. And seeing the clear plastic bubble-like door trap your hips. Add that with the bending- causing your hips to widen in the slightest. 

You sighed- frustrated that you had actually managed to get stuck in the small space. You tried a few more steps- a small wiggle, a aimed step back- nothing worked.

And wearing mini shorts- practically underwear that left your plush thighs exposed against the wall and the plastic door. Knowing it would only hurt if you pushed yourself out. 

You held the stupid black sock in your hand as you contemplated calling out to the idiot that waited for you in the living room. 

You shouted his name once- waiting a few seconds to see if he would come running to see what was wrong. 

Only Satoru was sat with a handful of unfolded socks in his lap, watching the show you normally watched together- so focused on the scene playing out before him. 

You closed your eyes- cringing at the cliche you were in. Calling his name once more- with more urgency and a gruff to it. That’s what pulled Satoru from his focus on the tv show. 

His hand reached for the remote and pressed pause- trying to determine if he was just imagining things or if you actually called out to him. 

And when you called out to him a third time, Satoru tossed the socks from his lap and ran to the laundry room. All the urgency in the world.

Worried you had seen a bug, or a home invasion- or every single dangerous thing he could picture happening. Running into the room asking you what was wro-

His lips parted in amazement once he saw your bottom trapped between the machine’s door and the wall. Staring at your exposed thighs and the crease of your ass.

“Don’t just stand there- go get some baby oil or something to get me ou-” Satoru reached a hand out to your bottom, causing you to silence your directions. His cheeks flushed and eyes glimmering full of the possibilities. 

Satoru sighed and smiled, looking up to the ceiling with closed eyes to thank the deity that had granted him his wish. 

Looking back down to your ass- slightly bent and you trying to reach a hand back to push him off, all but telling him again to go get something to help you out. 

But knowing your boyfriend and his peculiar tastes- this was brewing in his mind from the minute he saw your hips against the small space. 

“I prayed for this.” he whispered, earning a small ‘what?’ to leave your lips. 

Satoru placed both of his hands on your bottom, his long fingers sliding beneath the light fabric of your shorts. Softly groping at the skin and peaked his eyebrows. You only clenched your jaw and closed your eyes. 

Hearing the ramblings of the man behind you. “You should’ve just listened to me.” you scoffed, planting your hands on the wall in front of you as though Gojo was doing a body search, trailing his fingers down your clothed core. 

His eyes dimmed- watching the light goosebumps form on your skin, lightly pressing his fingers against the little mound beneath your shorts. Earning a small exhale laced with a whimper to leave your lips. His other hand groped firmly at your ass, enjoying the view below him. 

“No. I know now I was right not to listen to you.” Satoru grinned menacingly, watching your hips try to shift against the whirring machine next to you. 

The tips of his fingers against your clothed core making you let out a shivering huff. “You still want me to help you out?~” Gojo asked- too smug to be considered as a genuine offer.

Satoru made light circles on the little mound at the top of your cunt- shivers running down your thighs as you tried to muster the words. 

“You must’ve planned this-” he scoffed, trailing his fingers to the side of your shorts. A small damp spot formed on them, telling Gojo all he needed to know. “Prancing around all day wearing this-” 

You parted your mouth- feeling the cool air hit your dampening cunt that pulsed with every accusation he spouted at you. 

Satoru sucked his teeth- placing the tips of his fingers on your clit, causing a small gasp to fall from your throat. You let out a ragged breath, his fingers starting small circles against you. 

Trying to keep your legs from buckling at the slow pace Satoru held. A small ‘tsk’ left his lips, full of feigned disappointment. “Tryna tempt me allll day.” The smile evident in his tone. 

You only breathed a small whimper at his words- knowing it wasn’t true, but what state were you in to deny it? 

“M’pretty sure I saw your pretty pussy a handful of times~” he purred- fastening his pace in the slightest. 

Your breathing took up in pace- trying not to let out the small moans Satoru was pulling from you with every small circle he made against you. 

The bulge in Gojo’s bottoms grew with every little whimper you let out- his hard cock twitching beneath the fabric as soft moans left your lips, landing in his ears as harmonies.

“If you wanted me to fuck you that badly-” he hummed, quickening his fingers and hearing the low squelches coming from your cunt. Knees threatening to buckle as Satoru trailed the hand on your ass up your slightly arched back, pushing up the hem of your t-shirt. 

“All you had to do was ask, baby.” he cooed, watching your hands on the wall start to slip as your moans became louder, feeling Gojo’s hard bulge pressing against your ass. Desperate to get some kind of friction, whereas you- were desperate to finish. 

An orgasm so close it had one of your eyes shut and the other threatening to follow its movements- “You didn’t have to scheme up ways for me to fuck you.” he teased, trying to dig your fingers into the wall as Satoru watched you come undone, cunt clenching around nothing. 

Feeling your core pulse onto his fingertips, small shivering sighs leave your lungs as he works you down an orgasm. You steady your breathing- becoming more aware of Gojo’s bulge pressing onto your plump bottom. 

You clenched your teeth- Satoru’s fingers trailing from your clit down to the source of the slick that coated his digits. The other resting on your side to stabilize you. Wouldn’t want you to come unstuck too soon now. 

You were glad you were faced away from him- your vision bordering on going double and the heat rising to your cheeks just thinking about the cliche you were in. Thinking of how easily accessible you were to him at that moment. 

You started feeling his fingers dip into your entrance- too slow and far too eager to prep you. “Just-” you huffed, feeling his hand halt its movements. 

“Just. Fuck me.”

Quiet- but clear enough for Satoru to hear you. 

Huffed and urged as you said it- it made Satoru realize you were unwilling to go through his teasing prep- and in no possession of the patience needed for it. 

Gojo bit his lip slightly, being able to see the tenseness in your shoulders- it wasn’t about him having a good time anymore. No, your tone made it sound like he was depriving you of something.

Satoru wasted no more than a second in tucking the hem of his shirt between his pearly teeth- a smile on the corners of his lips as he watched you writhe. All but telling him to hurry with the puffs of frustration leaving your lips. 

Though his mouth was busy trying to hold his shirt up- his messied hand pulled from your cunt and landed on the band of his shorts, you could hear the muffled giggles of amusement leaving Gojo’s lips as he slapped the tip of his cock onto your ass. 

Leaky as he was, Gojo still wanted to hear the words from your lips. “Tellme-m’right” he spoke with clenched teeth- muffled and barely legible and in a smug tone. 

You scoffed- biting your lip and peaking up your eyebrows. Knowing Satoru is just petty enough to pull away from you and jack off till he spurt his mess onto your ass. “You were right.” you mumbled, earning Satoru to release the shirt from his teeth with a smile.

“What was that?” lightly tapping your entrance with his tip as your hands pressed onto the wall again- planted to stay upright. 

You sighed. “You were right, ‘toru-” you spoke clearly, earning an appeased hum from Satoru. 

Taking his hand from his base- quickly taking off his t-shirt and lining himself up with your cunt. The only thought in his mind was praising himself for what a good idea the machine’s placement was. 

The second he slowly pressed his tip past your entrance- both you and Gojo could feel the difference between when you would be prepped compared to now. 

Soft ringing in your ears as you let out a soft moan, a light sting pulsing in your cunt as he eased himself into you. 

And Gojo- he swore he could cum right then and there had it been up to him. His eyes threatened to fall back into a soft roll as a groan tried leaving his throat. Falling from his lips with the sound of a whimper laced in it.

Even if Satoru had slid inside of you countless times- it always made his go vision blurry. Never getting used to how warm and welcoming your cunt always felt against his cock. 

Satoru spouted a curse- mixed with a whimper as he held onto your ass, bracing himself as he felt your cunt suck him in. 

With clenched teeth- “S-so fuckin’ tight-” he gruffed- making sure to give you enough time to get used to the light sting before he pulled his cock from you. Hands gripping too harshly on the malleable skin of your ass. 

His cock felt a light breeze hit the skin lathered with your essence, wasting little time before thrusting back into you- setting a slow but deep pace. 

Shutting your eyes tight as Satoru’s thrusts caused your hips to move against the harsh plastic and the wall. 

A few more rolls of his hips were all you had to spare- “Satoru I’m gonna fall-” you huffed, feeling his hands grope at your ass firmly- some attempts to assure you that you wouldn’t. 

A light sheen of sweat formed on your thigh, causing you to actually start slipping with every little thrust Satoru rolled against you.

Though he was whining behind you, he could feel your hips start to give against the machine’s door. 

Gojo mustered all the strength he could, dragging his cock from you. Allowing his leaking tip to kiss your entrance ever so slightly as he gave a hard yank against your hips. 

Hearing a low grunt of relief as you felt yourself come loose-only for Satoru’s hands to move you to the free edge of the machine quickly, aligning himself up with your entrance again. 

Pressing his heaving chest against your back- bending you over as his head rested the crook of your neck. Clenching his teeth with a low whimper- your hands planted against the whirring machine- bracing for him to bottom out. 

Only Satoru planted a hand atop yours- grasping it lightly as he slid himself in slowly. 

A sharp exhale took the form of a whimper as it left Gojo’s lips, invading your ear as you raised yourself onto your tiptoes. Giving his cock a new angle, his flushed tip nudging your sweet spot. 

A choked moan left your lips, the hand on your ass rising to your neck. Pulling you back to his chest and forcing your back into a harsher arch. 

Satoru sped up his pace- barely pulling out and prodding the spongy gspot his cock curved into. Barely pulling his hips from your ass with frustrated whimpers leaving his lips. 

His hand mindlessly rising to the side of your face- your parted lips huffing out small whimpers welcoming his fingers. Hooking the digits that brought you to your first orgasm, onto the side of your mouth as he tried to keep a steady pace. 

You could feel he was still holding back- unknowing why he insisted on keeping a medium pace with his thrusts. You clenched your walls around him in the slightest- “F-faster ‘toru,” you huffed, slightly muffled from his fingers in your mouth- earning for his hips to halt and his hands to raise. 

Satoru gulped- his cheeks flushed and ears hot as his hands hooked onto the ditches of your elbows. Pulling your arms back in tandem with dragging his cock out.

Gojo knew that whenever you bark an order, you were giving him permission to do what every part of his brain was yelling at him to do. 

And as he felt the very tip of his cock reach the taut circle of your entrance- he clenched his teeth, inhaling before pushing himself in.

His thrusts were rough- too deep as your shoulder blades pressed against each other- clearer moans falling from your lips. Satoru’s forearms pulling you back with every harsh thrust- unpatterned and sloppy as he whined into your ear. 

Your calves started tingling from being raised on the tips of your toes. And almost as though Satoru heard you- he released one of your arms and reached down to your thigh. 

A smile took shape in a huff- “Up we go~” he grinned with a breathless tinge. 

Assisting you in resting it on the top of the machine, now easily at level with his rough hips. The foot on the ground barely touched the tile- half of your body on top of the machine as Satoru grabbed a handful of ass. Biting his lip as he looked down to your cunt linked with him. 

With every tenacious thrust Satoru rolled against you- he watched your ass bounce. 

And as though it was instinct, Gojo pulled his gripping hand from your ass and gave you a firm spank. 

You whimpered in response- shutting your eyes and muttering a strained, “Fffuck!” his hand soothing the warmth rising onto your bottom- clenching his teeth with muffled groans leaving his pursed lips. 

Your hands pressing onto the top of the machine as some sort of attempt to brace for Satoru’s quick drilling hips. Keeping yourself up on your forearms as his hand gripped the malleable skin of your ass. Groaning harsher and harsher as he felt his orgasm build in his tummy. 

Satoru knew you were close too- the moans you spewed were now shorter and more breathy. Your cunt twitching around him every other thrust- 

“Say m’right.” clenched teeth and a low tone as his thrusts became even more sloppy- bordering on raising himself from the ground from how harshly he was pushing you onto the machine. 

Gojo stopped his thrusts- nuzzling himself inside of you entirely. And staying still- knocking the air from your lungs with a gasp- “Say.” pulling his cock , “I’m.” a firm thrust, “Right.” urging you to with every deep thrust. 

You whimpered, knowing he was barely bumping his tip against your gspot on purpose. 

“You’re r-ri-” he continued his fast pace again- the words trying to make their way out of your lips. 

Satoru grunted with an amused smile- “I’m-” he sighed, “I’m what?” out of breath and edging himself.

You bit your lip, the knot in your stomach slowly slipping with every little thrust. 

Feeling his unforgiving hips nudge you closer and closer against the wall. Your jaw went slack-jawed as he refused to give you a second to answer. 

All it took was another firm spank to push you over an orgasm- cunt spasming around him as he grunted. Sudden tightness sucking him in with every pull he did. 

“You’re righ- fuck-” you moaned, “You’reright-” babbling as Satoru let out a breathy giggle. More than pleased with your mindless prattling. 

As Gojo succumbed to his own orgasm- you groaned lightly, feeling his seed coat your walls. Warmth filling your cunt as your eyes fluttered closed. 

Satoru rode himself down with slower thrusts, still reaching as deep as he could- but slowing them. 

Wincing softly as his tip got a shock of overstimulation, heavily breathing as he eased his hands from you. 

Leaning over your ass and placing his forehead onto the center of your shoulder blades. 

“Call the delivery men,” you breathed- sighing softly as Satoru rested himself atop you. “And tell them to move them.” you demanded- knowing that if they stayed the way they were now- more little instances like these would keep happening. 

Satoru huffed against your clothed spine. “You just said,” taking a breath and feeling his heart pound in his chest. “-that I was right?” keeping a teasing tone as you tried easing off the machine. 

Wondering how on earth Gojo managed to shift you from the floor to the top of the washer.

-

I luv him sm <3

[euphemiaamillais]

innocent - coriolanus snow

you never would’ve thought you’d end the night with a peacekeeper in your bed…

cw: 18+//loss of virginity//piv sex//handjobs//fingering

an: this gif is him above me 🤭🤭

perhaps it had been a bad idea to wear such a short skirt to the hob that evening. you’d caught the eye of many men as you swayed to the tunes of the covey; cheap moonshine in hand. you noticed one in particular—the one with those piercing blue eyes and platinum blonde buzzcut—was watching you intently.

you couldn’t help but blush, cheeks dancing with the warmth of being seen, chest filling with that sticky feeling. you’d felt it before, but the smiles of those other men had never amounted to anything more than a lingering kiss or two. your heart stirred when he came up to you, and you realised he was a peacekeeper. you knew better than to get entangled with one, or so you thought.

it was hard to resist one so charming and attractive.

'i saw you looking at me,' he remarked, drawing his arms around your waist.

you could barely meet his gaze, embarrassed by the way his cool touch sent a shiver down your spine and made your thighs tingle with want.

'shy are we, bunny?' he asked, removing one hand to cup your chin, drawing it up to meet his icy blue eyes.

you shook your head, but your eyes told the truth; fluttering about the room, trying to look anywhere but him. you wondered if anybody could see you—it would've been shameful to be caught so close with a peacekeeper. but nobody seemed to be paying you any heed, and so your pounding heart ceased its nervous palpitations.

‘how about a dance?’ he laced his fingers in your hand, moving it up so it rested against his shoulder.

you were acutely aware of the other hand which rested at your waist, and you couldn’t exactly say no when he had already moulded you into the perfect stance. the band began to play a slow song, and the blush stained your cheeks once again. he laughed, an almost mirthful laugh—although, coriolanus snow was never somebody to really, truly laugh—not that you knew that.

‘are you going to tell me your name, officer?’ you drawled, deciding that there was no harm in flirting. he was so handsome after all; and it would be rude not to talk to him.

‘it’s private, actually,’ he admitted bashfully, as if he was ashamed of his inferiority. but next to you, he felt powerful. you were just a district girl, and much smaller than his six foot frame. he could do anything he wanted to you.

‘well private, you ought to have a name,’ you began. ‘and it’s awful rude to not introduce yourself to a lady.’

you were teasing him; he wondered how many men you’d used that line on, but when he looked at the way you were bright red, and how your knees buckled a little, even as you attempted to maintain your composure, he reckoned it couldn’t have been many.

‘it’s private snow,’ he told you curtly.

you smiled; a pretty name. much different to the names here in 12, though you reckoned a peacekeeper was probably from one of the other, wealthier districts. not that you knew much about those.

‘well, private snow,’ your voice had a sweet twang to it, and he found himself thinking of another girl he knew, once, with that same appalachian drawl. he had come here to find her, and yet had no luck.

but you weren’t so bad—no, you were even prettier, and probably didn’t have a man like billy taupe clinging onto your skirts. he wondered if you had ever even kissed a man before. you had the sweetest looking lips, so plump, and a little wet with the moonshine you’d been sipping.

‘how are you liking district 12?’ you continued, brows quirking up with interest.

‘it’s alright. commander hoff works us to the bone but i suppose that’s the price you pay for 20 years,’ he huffed. his eyes looked a little distance—sad, perhaps. you wondered if he’d had much choice in the matter. still, even if he hadn’t, you did have to admit he would probably look good in his peacekeeper uniform.

‘20 years?’ your mouth stretched into a circle of surprise. ‘my, that’s terribly brave.’

his own cheeks reddened a little, though he quickly swallowed that feeling. he couldn’t blush, that was pathetic. that was something his fellow peacekeeper sejanus plinth did. no, a woman like you wasn’t to be caught by a blushing man. he needed to show you what it meant to be had by a peacekeeper—not the ambitious schoolboy in academy rouge that he’d left as soon as he’d set foot in 12.

‘i suppose so…’ his voice trailed off.

‘how do you keep yourself entertained, private snow?’ you asked as you swayed a little to one of the songs the covey was playing.

his mind flickered to what he’d been planning on doing to you—he’d not touched a woman in weeks, and at night he often found his body receptive to any and all thoughts. tonight, he had the chance to actually satisfy that ache that had been bottled up for weeks. he wondered if you’d feel better than that girl he did in the alley—at least his mind was clear tonight.

‘oh, dancing with pretty girls like you is one way of staving off boredom, bunny,’ he pressed a kiss to your hand, watching as your lips puckered into a bashful smile.

how innocent. he’d love to ruin you. he wondered what noises you’d make with his cock buried deep inside of you. you were probably tight as anything, just begging to be filled up with his cock.

‘well, if you think i’m pretty then i suppose i’ll have to thank you,’ you gazed up through your thick lashes, fluttering them ever-so-slightly.

his cock stirred in his pants—you were so fucking tempting. the way you were just begging to be fucked. he cocked a brow, curious as to what your intentions were.

‘what kind of thanks, bunny?’ he asked, breath fanning your ear.

‘well…’ feeling daring, you stroked at his chest, feeling the taut muscles underneath his shirt. you noticed the dog tag dangling, and a smirk played at his lips.

‘how about a kiss?’ you offered. oh, you were so innocent.

he nodded, and you felt your heart flutter. you worried he’d think you were being too forward, what, with you offering so quickly. but he was just so handsome. you wondered what his lips would feel like against yours.

perhaps you wouldn’t have to wait so long to find out…

you dragged him to a more secluded place, feeling a little too embarrassed about kissing him in the throng of people. he wondered, as you led him down the corridor of the hob, just how much you’d be thanking him. maybe you’d let him touch you a little, hands straying to cup your breasts, and then perhaps caress your hips. one thing would lead to another… and sweet virgins like you were easily persuaded.

coriolanus was swift with his kiss, leaning into you as you were pressed against the wall. you kissed back, soft at first, but when you felt his tongue pressing against your lips, you opened your mouth and surrendered.

he wrapped his hands around your waist, palming at the skin beneath your shirt. a heat crept upon your cheeks as his lips kissed yours with a hunger. pressed up against you, his cock twitched a little in his pants. he had to have you, you were practically begging for it in a skirt that short.

‘you taste so sweet, bunny,’ he mused as you pulled away from him. he wondered what you’d taste like in other places, whether your cunt had the same sweetness of your mouth.

you wanted more—your cunt ached, an unfamiliar feeling, but nontheless you knew you needed to be satisfied.

coriolanus could see this, the way you clenched your thighs together, and how your heart thumped inside your chest. he’d felt it when he’d been flush against you.

‘you wanna thank me some more?’ he inquired, blonde brow cocked.

you bit your lip, but you knew you couldn’t deny the rush inside your body, the way you were growing increasingly wet between your thighs. the ache that nagged at you, yearning to be satisfied.

‘mhm,’ you nodded dumbly, feeling his hands grab at your thighs.

‘you live alone?’ he asked, desire glinting in his eyes.

you shook your head, and a frown scampered upon his lips.

‘well, my pa’s not home til late, if you wanna come over…’ you drew a heavy breath, nerves making your knees buckle.

his frown turned to a smile, and he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. how endearing, the way you called your father pa. you were so beneath him, and he was determined to teach you that you belonged to him, the poor little district girl who’d been snapped up in the peacekeeper’s trap.

—

your house wasn’t far from the hob. coriolanus was glad of this, his cock was straining so hard in his trousers—he worried he wouldn’t be able to control himself, and finishing without even having touched you. well, that would just be a waste; embarrassing even.

you fumbled with the keys, and he felt a smile scamper upon his lips as he watched you, so afraid, his poor little bunny, struggling to open the door. when you finally slotted the key in the lock, coriolanus’ arms were wrapped around your waist, fingers tracing lightly across your skin.

‘you know bunny, you really should be careful around strange men,’ he murmured against your ear. you were acutely aware of what was pressing against your bottom.

‘but you’re not strange… you’re a peacekeeper,’ you hummed, moving your legs over the threshold. he still clung to you, breath heavy, hands roaming.

you had to get inside before anyone saw, and god forbid, alerted your pa. there was something deliciously thrilling about having a man inside of your home—you wondered if it made you a whore, inviting him inside and only having known him an hour. but you knew many girls who did that, and at least you weren’t taking money for it.

‘mhm, but men like me… well, they just can’t resist taking what’s theirs,’ he pinched you, watching you gasp at the stinging feeling of your delicate skin between his fingers. you looked so sweet when you squirmed.

‘well maybe i want you to take what’s yours,’ you looked up at him with wide eyes, fingers lacing against each other as you swung about.

you looked like a little lamb, so sweet and innocent. he wanted to take you between his jaw and make you bleed.

‘is that so, bunny?’ he asked, and you nodded dumbly.

you trailed along to your room, not desperate enough to let him have you against a wall, glancing back at him every so often and watching as his eyes followed you. you shoved the door open, and switched on the little lamp by your bedside table.

your room was bare, for the most part, but coriolanus felt it suited you, the cream bedsheets and the old floral wallpaper. it was so innocent. he wondered if you’d stain those sheets tonight as he stretched you out. he’d want to keep them, as a reminder of what he’d taken from you.

you sat down on the bed, and he followed suit, still reminded of his achingly hard cock. you couldn’t keep your eyes off the bulge in his trousers; it was of a considerable size, and made you gnaw at your lip in anticipation.

‘i want to help you,’ you said, mouth going dry at the sight of him.

‘help me, bunny?’ he inquired. your words were a little cryptic, but he could tell that your eyes were clearly focused on his achingly hard cock.

‘mhm, you’re so hard,’ you murmured. although you were innocent, you’d read enough romance novels to figure out what he needed.

‘you can certainly help me,’ he grabbed your hand and guided it to his clothed hard-on.

you palmed it lightly, gasping as you felt it. he watched as your mouth spread into an exclamation of delight, lips flickering a little. you were so innocent, the way you were gentle in your touches, how you sighed with amazement.

he groaned at the touch, but moved your hand away to free his cock from the restraints of his pants and boxers. your mouth hung agape as he pulled them down to his knees and you were presented with his hard cock. he was big, not that you’d really seen a cock before, but it had to be at least eight inches, and it was throbbing desperately against his stomach.

coriolanus guided your hand back, and wrapped it around the base. you could feel the blood coursing through it, and saw a little bit of precum dribbling from the tip.

‘just move your hand up and down, princess,’ he cooed, and you stroked him, sweaty palms not causing as much friction as he expected.

you moved your hand to the tip, and he urged you to give it a squeeze, groaning as you did so. you felt so good, the way you were thumbing his dripping head, stroking so diligently. but he wanted more, he needed to feel you.

your thighs burned as you continued to stroke him, and you watched as he bucked his hips a little at your touch. you fastened the pace, not too quick, but just enough that his breaths grew haggard. it didn’t seem so intimidating now that you were doing it, and his moans suggested you were doing a good job.

but still, your own body was aching with need, and you found yourself grinding into the bed. coriolanus saw this, the way you were practically squirming, and moved one of his own hands to grip at your thigh.

‘does bunny want me to touch her too?’ he said between breaths.

you nodded lazily, hand still pumping his cock. he was close already, the feeling of your hand too much, and the anticipation of finally burying himself deep inside of you was sending him over the edge.

coriolanus’ fingers traced lightly up your thigh, and when he reached your skirt, he pushed past the hem and slipped between the apex of your thighs. you spread them, and gasped as you felt his fingers brush against the wet patch of your panties.

‘oh bunny, you’re so wet,’ he sighed, his cock throbbing. he was so close…

you mewled as he removed your panties, fingers gently prying them off of you and leaving them to hang at your ankles. you kicked them off, but were left sighing as he ceased his touch for a moment.

his cock twitched in your grip, and he let out a loud, rough groan, spurts of cum coming from the tip of his cock. you blushed, watching as he came onto your hand, and his stomach. he’d have to wash his uniform tonight, because it was stained with the pearly ropes.

sweat beaded at his forehead, but he didn’t let the waves of his own pleasure distract from what he wanted most, which was to feel you. you spread your legs, and he sighed at the sight of your glistening cunt.

he ran one finger over your folds, and you clutched at the bedsheets, attempting to ignore how sensitive you already were. his thumb pressed against your clit, and you couldn’t stifle your moan this time, a feeling of warmth shooting across your body. you wanted more, and ground into the feeling of his thumb running circles against the sensitive spot.

‘so wet for me, aren’t you?’ he muttered, his long fingers edging further down your folds.

‘feels so… good,’ you huffed, eyes fluttering shut with bliss. of course you were already lingering on the edge of your own pleasure—he doubted you’d ever even touched yourself before.

he eased a finger into your hole; feeling your slick walls take it in, but only barely. you were so fucking tight, and he watched as you winced a little at the feeling. it only hurt for a second, but you were so wet that you were longing for more.

‘oh please,’ you gasped, feeling him arch his finger while his thumb began to vary its ministrations against your clit.

‘gonna cum for me, bunny?’ he cooed, moving his thumb up and down, watching as your thighs began to tremble.

the heat was unbearable now, and when he added another finger, stretching you out, you felt your whole body begin to tingle with the beginning of your release.

‘mhm!’ you cried out, exasperated from his touch.

you gushed around his fingers, though he continued to rub his thumb against your clit, and arch his fingers inside of you, mesmerised by the wetness coating them. your breath hitched, and you came completely undone, burning and trembling as he made you cum.

he felt his cock harden again at the sight of you coming around his fingers, and as he removed them from your hole, he decided he couldn’t wait any longer.

coriolanus pushed you back into the bed, cock pressing against your thighs. your head swam with the excess of your desire, but you surrendered yourself to him, longing to feel him buried deep inside of you.

he guided just the tip towards your hole, and ran it teasingly through the soaking folds of your cunt. you mewled, and clutched at his back in an attempt to get him to push into you. deciding he was greedy, he pressed the tip into you, and you let out a shocked groan.

it hurt—he was big, but you hadn’t expected it to make you tingle so much. you bit back a few tears, and let him put the rest of the tip in. you were so tight, he couldn’t believe it. if you’d felt tight around his fingers, this was a whole new sensation. you were clenching around his cock, and he had barely so much as the head of it inside you.

‘too big,’ you gasped, feeling him ease his cock further in. it stung a little, the stretch slightly unpleasant. but you wanted him so bad. ‘it hurts!’

‘poor bunny,’ he mused, stroking your cheek. ‘you gotta learn to take it, like a good girl. i know you want it, bunny.’

you did, you wanted it so bad. even though it hurt, you felt your stomach knot tightly as it did when he’d rubbed your clit. he began to buck his hips, grunting at the tightness of your cunt. your walls stretched around his big cock, taking him in as best they could, slick with want and need.

‘fuck, you’re so fucking tight,’ he groaned as thrust inside of you.

more tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks. he watched as you tried to fight off the feelings of pain, surrendering yourself to the pleasant feeling of fullness and his throbbing cock inside of you. he wanted nothing more than to pound into you, make you scream his name as he filled you up, but you were too delicate. he’d have to wait until you were ready, and you were special, anyways. a pretty doll just for him.

‘oh,’ you gasped as he fucked himself deeper, reaching a new angle inside of you.

the sound of your slick mingling with the slapping of his balls echoed against the walls of your room, and you clutched at his back. your desire began to brim again, edging its way up your thighs and deep into the pit of your stomach. coriolanus could hardly contain himself, you fit around him so perfectly, slick walls coating his cock as he thrust in and out.

‘fuck bunny, i don’t know how much more i can take,’ he admitted haggardly. he attempted to control his urges, but you were just so tight. what was stopping him from coming in you right then and there?

‘need you,’ you mumbled as he rutted against your hips, thrusts growing more desperate.

he moved one hand down to rub at your overstimulated clit, fingers deftly helping to unfurl the ache inside of you. you sputtered at the sensation, head spinning as he fucked you into the mattress.

he was so close, the clenching of your walls sending the blood straight to his head. he let out a final grunt, and slowed his thrusts, and felt himself come undone. he ground his cock into you, letting the thick spurts of his cum coat your walls. he came a lot, more than he’d ever done before, balls draining with what felt like every last drop.

he still continued to fuck up into you, wanting you to finish around him before he pulled out. your legs began to tremble, the feeling of his cum too much to handle, and you let out a sweet cry.

‘so good,’ you pressed your lips together, coming undone around his dock.

coriolanus pulled out, cock coated in a milky ring of your spend, his tip still red and angry from use. your body tingled, and you felt his cum trickling down between your legs. he couldn’t believe how pretty you looked, all fucked out for him, drunk on his cock.

he’d turned such a pretty innocent thing into a stupid whore, who could barely form a sentence without sighing from the excess of her pleasure.

he wondered how long he’d have to wait to go another round, and whether or not you’d let him. but you’d been so good to him that night, doing exactly what he told you and coming for him not once, but twice.

‘such a good girl for me, bunny,’ he mused, stroking your thigh. ‘and so innocent.’

[phoward89]

Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika

Summary: You're the winner of the First Quarter Quell and you awaken in the hospital to Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow at your bedside.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus, Mentions of death, Mentions of planning murder, Mentions of cheating/infidelity (not on reader), Mentions of poison, Large age gap/difference (Coriolanus is 33 while reader is 18), Manipulation, um...trying to think of anything else.

Story Masterlist

Chapter 1:

When the Head Gamemaker’s baritone blared out overhead, naming you the victor of the First Quarter Quell, you literally collapsed into a heap on the blood soaked ground from a mix of exhaustion and happiness. Your eyelids drooped and the last thing you saw before you passed out was a pair of peacekeepers coming towards you.

When you woke up, you were in a sterile white room. A hospital room. You had drips and IVs connected to you along with some monitor that made beeping noises. Blinking to readjust your eyes to the brightness of the artificial light, you surveyed the room only to notice that sitting in a chair right next to your bed was none other then the head gamemaker himself. Coriolanus Snow.

“What are you doing here, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You curiously asked. Surely he had better things to do then be at your bedside. Like being home with his wife. Oh and you knew he was married because 1.) He was wearing a gold band on his ring finger and 2.) You've seen a dirty blonde woman his age on his arm in a few pictures of Victor's balls and such in the cheap Capitol rag mags that get circulated around District 12 to be used as tp by the poor and destitute. 

Staring you down with his icy blue eyes, he said, “I'm making sure that District 12’s first victor in 15 years survives.”

His words made a shiver run up your spine. It was common knowledge that District 12’s first and only victor (until now) had mysteriously vanished into thin air a few months after winning her games and returning home. Nobody dared talk about her. Her name was lost to the wind; she was a ghost that nobody paid any mind too. The fact that the head gamemaker wanted to make sure that you didn't die unnerved you. 

Surely you weren't in that bad of shape, were you? Swallowing a lump in your dry throat, you croaked out, “How bad of shape am I in, Head Gamemaker Snow?”

“Please, darling, call me Coriolanus or Coryo, if you'd like.” The platinum blonde, who looked a bit sleep deprived in his wrinkled button up (as if he'd slept in it) told you. “I insist.” He smiled. 

Him calling you darling and insisting that you call him Coriolanus or Coryo made your insides churn. It wasn't right. Why would he be so informal with you. He was the head gamemaker, a 33-year-old man from the Capitol, and you were just a victor, an 18-year-old girl from District 12. You two shouldn't be informal with each other.

“Oh, where are my manners? You must be thirsty. Let me get you some water.” Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow lightly chastised himself while rising from his chair.

Crossing the room to a counter where a tray with a pitcher and glass were, he explained, “When the peacekeepers pulled you out of the arena you had collapsed from dehydration.” Pouring you a glass of water, he further explained, “Your vitals were very low and, in fact, you died once on your way here, but the medics brought you back.”

“What the hell? I died?...” You gasped, struggling to comprehend what you just heard. 

Head Gamemaker Snow appeared by your side and placed the water glass into your hand. A hand much smaller and weaker than his large calloused one. “Yea, but you were revived.” Sitting on the edge of your bed, causing it to dip, he motioned for you to drink. “I must have my Victor alive and well, so that's why I've been keeping watch over you, Y/N.”

His words should've made you see a red flag waving in the air, but it didn't. Maybe you were too young and naive to catch onto the true meaning of his words. Maybe they went right over your head because you were still weak, or maybe since you had a stalker back in 12 that you had convinced yourself was just a weird neighbor boy you didn't realize the true possessive meaning of Coriolanus’ words.

“Are you going to stay here now that I'm awake or?...”

“Unfortunately, I have to leave you here and go home.” He pouted. What the hell, he actually pouted? You had to admit that his plush lips looked very kissable when he pouted. Petting your hair, he gave you a reassuring smile. “Don't worry, darling, I've made sure that you'll be well taken care of by the best nurses that money can buy in the Capitol.”

What he didn't tell you was that he threatened the lives of the nursing staff’s loved ones if you so much as had a hair out of place. That was something you didn't need to know. Just like you didn't need to know that when he first laid eyes on you, in your best cotton floral dress; your hair pulled back with a ribbon for Reaping Day, he found you the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on and just had to claim you as his. Reason why, as the head gamemaker, he might or might not have screwed around with other tributes’ sponsor gifts and made sure you got a few things here and there that would ensure your survival. You had an innocence to you that he had the primal urge to consume. An innocence that was absent in the Capitol. An innocence and a beauty that he carved to have all to himself.

You just being you consumed him with a passionate obsession. One that he would act on soon. Very, very soon. He just needed to take care of his wife, Livia, so that he'd be free to make you his forever. But that wouldn't be hard, considering he was a master at making people drop dead from sudden food poisoning. 

Pressing a kiss to your hair, Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow, promised, “I'll be back in the morning to check up on you before I'm needed at the Citadel.”

“You have to wrap up the game stuff don't you, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You asked, even though you were sure he'd say yes. In fact you didn't even know why you asked that. Maybe as a replacement for goodbye since you hated that word. 

Last time you said goodbye to somebody it was your mother and she took off with some officer, leaving you with your older half-brother Rein to take care of you both. He was 15 at the time and you were 5. Safe to say, you never used the word goodbye again in your life. 

“I told you, call me Coriolanus or Coryo.” He reminded you, not liking that you were still calling him by his title. “Yes, my darling rose, I must make sure that all the paperwork is in proper order for your prize money and the construction of your house in Victor's Village.” The platinum blonde man, who you just noticed has bags under his eyes, tiredly told you before pressing another kiss to your hair. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he said, “You need to be a good girl and rest for me.”

You blinked at him. What? Be a good girl? And rest for him? Say what? Your brain was short circuiting at his words. Not just his words, but the way his baritone was both dominant and soft as he spoke them.

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he simply said, “We'll talk more tomorrow. I promise.”

“Okay.” You nodded numbly, unable to comprehend what the hell was happening. You went like your head was spinning, as if you had too much moonshine. Hell, what had your time in the arena done to you?

Coriolanus gave you a pleased smile before rising from his spot on your bed and walking out of your room; making sure to close the door behind him. It was only after he was gone that you realized you were in a private room.

Coriolanus was fucking exhausted when he got home. He could barely keep his eyes open as he stepped out of his black sedan. After you were admitted to the hospital, he dismissed his driver and drove himself there. He didn't want the man to be waiting around on him while he stayed steadfast at your bedside, plus he was more than capable of driving himself home once he saw you open your beautiful eyes. What he wasn't expecting was for you to be asleep for over 24-hours. 

So, sleep deprived, Coriolanus walked into the townhouse he shared with his wife, Livia. The townhouse was a gift he received from Strabo and Ma Plinth once he announced his engagement, but he planned on putting it up on the market once he took care of Livia. He didn't want to bring you to this house that held nothing but hatred and misery in it.

No, he was going to bring you to his penthouse on the Corso. Now that's a proper place for you to live with him. In fact, he'd be telling you about your new residence tomorrow morning during your visit. Oh, he was so excited to tell you that you'd be staying in the Capitol with him. Of course, he'd use the excuse that since District 12 doesn't have a Victor’s Village and it must be constructed that he's arranged for you to use his Corso penthouse during the construction period.

It was a great plan. One that was foolproof. He just knew that you, being so young and innocent, would view his offer as one of help instead of one of ownership. Or, dare he say, love? Yes, love. He was sure that he was obsessively in love with you. It was a feeling he swore to never feel again, but yet again one just can't help who they fall in love with.

He always thought that marrying for hate instead of love or even tolerability would give him power, but truthfully all it gave him was a headache and a bad case of blueballs. Livia was a heinous bitch and was a cold fish in bed. She didn't like to fuck. What the fuck? Who doesn't like to fuck? Coriolanus thought that was absurd, unnatural even.

That's why he had to have affairs here and there; then turn the whores into avoxes to keep their mouths shut when he was done with them. What? He was a man after all and had needs. Needs that he knew you'd fulfill without any problems. With you he'd be faithful because you'd be his mind, body, and soul and would do anything for his love since you were so young. All he had to do was show you how in love *cough* obsessed *cough* he was with you and you'd be his forever.

Unknown to Coriolanus, the object of his marital hatred (Livia) was having an ongoing affair with one of the male avoxes in their household. An avox that had once been an equal of theirs in the Academy and the University, but crossed Snow the wrong way with a question about the songbird from 12. 

Coriolanus wasn't even to the stairs yet when he heard Livia’s screeching coming from the front sitting room. Great…seems like the bitch was waiting up for him. 

“Coriolanus, where have you been? The games ended and you never came home!” Livia demanded in a high pitch scream as her fuzzy heeled skippers clicked loudly against the hardwood floor as she ran out of the sitting room and into the main hall.

“Don't worry about where I was, Livia.” Coriolanus venomously gritted out as he made his way to the staircase.

“You're my husband, Coriolanus. I'm supposed to worry about where you've been.” Livia shrieked while following her husband. 

“I'm your husband when I don't come home, but when I'm home we have separate bedrooms and you come up with every excuse under the sun not to fuck me.” Coriolanus spat back as he tiredly trudged upstairs, feeling a migraine coming on from his wife's nagging. Oh, how he needed to poison that bitch yesterday.

“Your tastes in bed are not the same as mine, husband.” Livia said, placing special emphasis on the word husband, while following him upstairs. “You're too harsh for my taste, but that doesn't mean you can stay out for days on end with some whore.” 

All Coriolanus could see was red, like a raging bull, after hearing her remark. How dare she insult his prowess in bed? He knew how to fuck a woman and how to fuck her good; he never had any complaints either until he tied the knot with Livia. Damn bitch, won't fuck him and then insults his ability to fuck. Oh, yes, it was time for her to go. 

She outlived her usefulness. Livia couldn't give him the one thing he most desperately needed. An heir. What use did Coriolanus have for a woman that refuses to have his child? After a decade of hell with his wife, he was ready to cut his losses. He had control of her family's bank and the Plinths fortune, plus his status as Head Gamemaker and Senator along with his position on the War Council was more then enough to make him a successful candidate for president once the elder President Ravenstill kicked the bucket. He didn't need her for an heir anymore, not when he had you (you were young and fertile enough to give him litters of heirs).

Oh, Coriolanus knew exactly how to make up for never coming home after the games ended with Livia. Oh, yes, he did. 

“The victor, Y/N, from 12 was in bad shape and I had extra paperwork to do.” He smoothly lied to his dirty blonde wife as he set foot onto the second floor of his townhouse. Turning to look at her, he gave her a fake smile full of fake sympathy and offered, “How about I take you out to your favorite restaurant for dinner? The one that has that red wine you can't get enough of.”

“Yes, I accept your apology and dinner invitation. Just don't do this to me again, Coriolanus. We might hate each other, but I'm still your wife and deserve respect.” Livia told Coriolanus before taking off to her room, her robe billowing behind her.

Coriolanus smiled wickedly as he retired to his room. Oh, after tomorrow night he'd never have to deal with Livia ever again. He'd be free to have you all to himself, forever and always.

You were walking in the plains, tall prairie grass blowing in the wind. The deeper you walked in it, the more dread you felt. You couldn't describe the feeling, but you just knew that something was wrong. Then, suddenly, you heard a crunching sound behind you. Turning around, you saw the last tribute, a girl from 2, with a knife in her hand running towards you. 

You were exhausted and thirsty. The water you had been gifted from a sponsor had run out nearly a day ago, so you were feeling the effects of dehydration. You didn't know if you either didn't have a lot of sponsors or weren't getting any more water bottles because a water source was nearby somewhere, but you did know that it sucked you were dying of thirst.

But your thirst didn't matter now. Surviving the girl from District 2 did and you knew you wouldn't be able to fight her in the tall grasses. So you ran. You ran as hard and fast as your lightheaded feet would carry you.

It didn't take long until you were out of the tall grasses and on a barren field of cracked soil. You had a small pocket knife that was gifted to you, something you were sure cost a hefty penny since sponsor weapons were always pricey according to Lucky Flickerman’s game commentary.

Flipping the switchblade open, you turned around and headed straight towards the girl that had tripped and fell at the edge of the plains grasses and the dry bed of field soil. Lifting up your knife, you made to plunge it into her, only for her to look up at you with a sinister smirk and plunge her knife right into your neck.

Your eyes flew open as you screamed bloody murder. You died! You had died in your nightmare instead of being victorious. That nightmare shook you to your core. It frightened you so much that you screamed yourself hoarse, until your vocal cords were stripped. You were so frightened that you huddled in the corner of your room in a fetal position.

Nurses and other hospital staff tried to tend to you; get you out of the corner, but you just struggled and fought with them. You couldn't let them near you. What if they wanted to kill you? What if they hurt you? Your dream had shaken you up so bad that you weren't quite with it yet. You weren't in reality, you were stuck in your own head and afraid that somebody or something was going to get you. You were scared out of your wits. You were so scared that you cried. You weren't aware that you were crying, but the tear stains marred your hollowed cheeks like scars.

Coriolanus had only been asleep for an hour or so whenever he was awakened by a call from Capitol General Hospital. What the charge nurse told him made his heart clutch painfully. His victor, his darling rose, woke up terrified out of her mind and curled herself into a corner, screaming and crying her head off.

“She's having a nightmare about her time in the arena. Aren't you giving her anything to calm her down?” Coriolanus asked the nurse  he was on the phone with as he sat up in bed, flipping on his bedside lamp to softly illuminate his pitch black room in a golden glow of light.

“She won't let anyone near her and you did say to call you with any updates on her condition, sir “ The nurse hesitantly told him.

“I’ll be right there to sign her out since your hospital staff are incompetent and can't properly take care of a victor.” He told the nurse before hanging up on her.

It only took a few minutes for Coriolanus to dress and rush to the hospital. Despite being exhausted, you needed him and he wasn't going to let you down. You were his and he was going to take good care of you. He always took good care of his things. He did like his things to be perfect and if they weren't then he'd make sure that his favorite things were mended until they were perfect. You were his and he'd make sure that he made you perfect once more. Perfect for him, to be by his side as not just his Victor, but as his First Lady. His darling rose.

Dressed simply in a fitted white shirt and black pants, Coriolanus ran up the stairs to your floor and rushed into your room. The site of you curled up, tear tracks staining your cheeks, wide-eyed and afraid pulled at what little heartstrings were in his too small blackened heart. You looked like a wounded animal and he hates it. You were his victor, his darling rose, his future First Lady and he wanted you to recover your senses so that you could regain your strength; be all that he knew you were to him.

He slowly approached you with his hands out in a show of peace. “It's me, my darling rose. It's Coryo.” Coriolanus softy told you in an attempt to let him near you.

Your eyes blinked at hearing his nickname and for some reason you nodded at him. As he crouched down next to you, placing a tentative hand on your shoulder, you clutched the middle of his pristine white shit and sobbed, “I died, Coryo. I dreamed that I died instead of her.”

Your words gutted him. A world without you was no world at all. Wrapping his arms around you: letting you bury your head in his chest, he strokes your hair while offering you the comforting words of, “Oh, my darling, you're alive. You're alive and I won't let anything bad ever happen to you again, Y/N.” You shook in his arms, causing him to simply ask, “You hear me, my darling rose?”

“Mhm…” You mumbled out, too afraid to talk for fear that you'd start crying again. 

“Shh…” Coriolanus shushed you like one would do a small, frightened child. “I'm here. Your Coryo’s here and you're safe. You'll always be safe with me, darling.”

If you were of sound mind instead of scared out of it (from the horrors he designed and put into the damn games) you would've ran far far away from Coriolanus. But, sadly, you were too scared and on the verge of a mental breakdown to understand how twisted the man holding you really was. How obsessessive he was; how wrong letting him hold you was. No, you were too afraid to realize that you were letting the creator of your nightmares comfort you.

Once your sobs subsided and you quieted down, Coriolanus pulled back from you so that he could tilt your chin up in order to have your eyes on his. “I was going to wait til morning to tell you this, but you’ll be staying in a luxurious penthouse while the Victor’s Village is constructed in your district.”

You nodded, only to squeakily ask, “How long am I staying here?”

“Oh, just long enough to build your victor's house. I suppose it'll be done by time your victory tour rolls around; maybe even sooner.” He smoothly lied. He had no intentions whatsoever to let you go back to District 12. You deserved more then the mud and poverty stained streets of the coal district. You deserved to be bathed in rose scented oils and salts, dressed in the finest fashions, fed the best foods, and fucked on the best silk sheets that his money could buy. 

“Okay.” You nodded, naively believing the lies of the head gamemaker. 

“How about we get you out of here and over to the penthouse? Hmm? I'll even call Tigris to come over and spend the day with you, how'd you like that?”

“I like Tigris. She’s nice and was my stylist. Always talked to me like she cared.”

Coriolanus knew that his cousin was your stylist. He's the one that assigned her to you after all. But neither you nor her needed to know that. No…. It wasn't important. What was important was that you two got along, especially since in a short while you'll be family.

“Tigris is my cousin; I'm glad to hear that you like her.” Coriolanus told you while helping you to stand up. “And she does care about you, Y/N.” He told you while leading you over to your bed. “Never forget that the Snows care about you. And that snow lands on top.” He whispered into your ear while helping you sit on your bed. 

You just blinked at him, trying to process what he meant. You were so tired and mentally weak from your nightmare that you had no idea that his remark was one of possession. Your throat hurts from all the crying and screaming that you did, so you weren't thinking straight. Infact, your throat hurts so much that you grab the glass of water from your bedside table, quickly gulping it down.

“Be careful, you don't want to make yourself sick.” Coriolanus warned, much like a parent would to a child, while snatching the glass away from you.

“My throat’s dry and hurts. I need water.” You said in a pained whisper, side eying the glass in Coriolanus’ hand.

“Yes, well, that tends to happen when you scream and cry yourself hoarse.” He stated a bit coldly before lifting the glass to your lips and ordering, “Be a good girl and take small sips for me.”

You obeyed since your throat was aching. The small sips of the cool water seemed to soothe your damaged throat just enough to keep your mind off the pain. When Coriolanus felt you had enough to drink, he put the glass down on your side table. 

Petting your hair, he said, “I need to go sign you out at the front desk, but I'll be back soon to take you with me to the penthouse. Where you'll be safe.”

“Thank you.” You weakly smiled at the man that was now both your salvation and your damnation.

If only you knew what life awaited for you at that penthouse. Would you still be thanking him if you did?

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should’ve told me | l. at

fwb!fratboy!anton x fem. reader | 6.1k words

my anton anon’s this one is for y’all

contains: friends with benefits, reader denies feelings, pining, love confessions, unprotected sex

you kept anton around for longer than you should have. you’re grown enough to admit that you should’ve let him down easy a long time ago, probably after the first time you hooked up. 

it was as innocent as any hookup could be, one thing leading to another once you and anton were done with your class project. he had pleasantly surprised you with how smart he was. when he wasn’t surrounded by his stupid fraternity brothers he was also pretty sweet. and he was tall, with a pretty smile that took up his whole face. he ended up in your dorm and it was just the two of you, and you hadn’t touched anyone intimately in a long time. when he pressed his body close to yours and you felt his strong broad chest he covered up with hoodies you didn’t stand a chance. you fucked anton on your tiny twin bed, the cheap wooden frame creaking underneath your shared weight. 

the worst part was that he was so good at fucking you. it was truly always the quiet and shy ones. the same anton whose face went all red when he had to talk in front of the class pressed your body deep into the mattress and left marks all over your neck. the same anton that had to join a fraternity to make friends was incredibly bold, his sweet voice telling you how wet and tight you were. but he was sweet nonetheless, saying gentle praises when he hit a spot deep inside of you and shyly admitted that he had thought about what you would feel like wrapped around him.

although his words were sweet, his actions were rough from the strength and size of his body. when he bent his legs while chest to chest with you he unknowingly pushed your legs upwards, almost making your knees touch your stomach. you moaned while taking it all, loving the feeling of anton accidentally manhandling you. anton didn’t know how strong he was until he flipped you over with ease, apologizing in your ear for surprising you. you immediately forgave him, even taking the extra step to tell him he can do whatever he wants to you. what he wanted was to make you cum over and over again until you were near tears.

you two spent the next couple hours going at it, both of you missing your last classes for the day. when anton finally finished on your ass the sun was setting, bathing your tiny dorm room in sunlight. anton’s hot pants fanned your ear while the sun continued to set. you wanted to see his face, see if he still got shy right before reaching his peak, or how the sun would light up his brown eyes. when he pulled out and jerked himself off over you, you craned your neck to try and see him. all you got was a view of his toned stomach, his muscles tensing underneath the taut skin. you had to settle for the sound of anton’s quiet whimpers and the feeling of his hot cum on your ass and thighs. you were nearly out of it yourself, two orgasms deep before anton let himself go.

anton came to his senses quickly and apologized for the mess he made. his stamina seemed to double yours, getting control of his body fast while your limbs still felt like jelly. he got down from your loft bed, going over the side instead of wasting time with the stairs. he came back quickly with paper towels and a cold water bottle from your mini fridge. he cleaned you up while you drank the water, hoping your roommate took notes for you in class.

when anton was done he pressed kisses to the back of your neck and shoulder blades. he had gone back to his shy and reserved self, nothing like the man that was fucking you into your mattress or jerking himself off over your ass a few minutes prior.

“did you cum?” anton asked quietly.

anton was too cute for his own good. you turned around to see anton sitting at the end of your bed looking at you expectantly. his face lit up immediately when you told him yes, and when you told him you finished multiple times it looked like his head was going to explode. anton closed the space between the two of you, kissing you on the lips. it caught you off guard, a passionate kiss on the lips being the most intimate thing you’ve done all day. when you pulled back, anton did too.

“i’m sorry.” anton said immediately.

you shook your head and smiled at anton. 

“just surprised me is all.” you said.

you could tell anton wanted to kiss you again. but you sat on the other end of the bed, trying to figure out why your heart was doing backflips now. you were saved by the custom ringtone of your roommate calling you.

you looked away from anton’s flushed face and his swollen lips, letting him catch his breath while you answered the call.

“hey yunjin.” you said. 

you motioned for anton to get off his bed and he did so immediately, handing you your clothes. he was moving frantically for some reason, much more rushed to get dressed than you were. 

“do you have a guest over?” 

her voice over the phone was high and flirtatious. yunjin knew who it was too, the shy boy in your class you always said hi to when you passed by him.

“why? are you at the dining hall?” you asked. 

you threw on your shirt without bothering to put on a bra. it was cold enough you’d be wearing multiple layers anyway.

“heading over there now. i’ll meet you there?”

you could hear the shuffling of people and yunjin putting her stuf faway. you must’ve barely missed class being dismissed. you quietly thank anton for handing you your underwear and pants off the floor. you pressed the phone to your ear using your shoulder while you put your pants back on.

“okay. i’ll see you in a little bit.” you said.

there was silence only for a moment on the other end of the line. you could practically see yunjin on the other end of the line with a smug look on her face while she exited the classroom.

“oh and tell anton i said h—”

you hung up before yunjin could finish her sentence. you could see her loudly laughing to herself in the hallway. 

you let your phone rest on your chest a moment before looking down, seeing anton fully dressed with his backpack slung over a shoulder. you got down from the bed yourself, feeling his hand on your back as if you hadn’t gone down the ladder a million times before. 

on your way to your door you felt anton trailing a little too close to you. when you made it to the door you put on a pair of slip ones, watching anton watch you. you smiled again, the way he was trying to be so inconspicuous about it all.

“what’s so funny?” anton asked shyly. 

he smiled big at nothing, giving you an eye smile while you put on your shoes.

“you’ve been jumpy ever since we did it. i feel like you want to ask me something.” you said. 

you grabbed your jacket off of the coat hanger by the door and slip it on. you stuff your phone, wallet, and keys into the pockets, checking that you have everything. anton still stares at you, trying to find the words to talk to you.

“do you want to eat at the house?” anton asks.

you raise your eyebrows at anton asking you to come over to his frat house before opening the door. anton shakes his head quickly, realizing it could be taken a different way. he’s goes back to following behind you in the small corridor of your dormitory. he readjusts his backpack as he leans his body forward, a height advantage so he can be closer to your ear.

“maybe we could talk about what just happened.” anton says quietly.

you remain silent while you walk through your building. anton follows you through the twists and turns of the hallways. when you make it to the elevator anton stands behind you, rocking on his heel while you continue to say nothing. 

when you make it outside the building you pull anton to the empty outdoor area that surrounds your building.

“i’m not hanging out with you at your frat, anton.” you say.

you tried not to sound too harsh, but you saw anton’s face flash with pain. his hand tightened around the strap of his backpack while he started looking everywhere else but at you. 

you thought it would be a one and done thing with him. you knew how frat boys got down, fucking girls once and then ditching them. the reputation of his frat brothers reputations preceded them, but it seemed like anton was different. maybe that’s why you told him that you wanted to sleep with him again. you kissed him on the cheek and said you wanted to see his face next time, leaving him alone in the courtyard of your building before heading to the dining hall. 

you had said those words to anton only in hopes to stun him long enough that you could walk away. but as the week went on and you thought about how he felt against you, you caved. you couldn’t stop yourself from hitting up anton again. you texted anton during class as he zealously took notes.

hey.

you watched him continue to write on the paper, alternating between looking at the board and his composition notebook

yunjin is sleeping at her boyfriends place tonight

ill be all alone :(

you loved the rush you felt seeing anton peak at his phone underneath the table. when he saw the text his eyes scanned the classroom until he found you. you smiled at him and waved, giving him your most innocent look. anton dropped his pencil on his notebook to put both of his hands underneath the table to text you back.

you don’t talk to me for a week but you hit me up for sex?

anton tucks his phone back into his pocket before going back to look at the board. he puts his head in his fist, facing his head away from you.

isnt that what this is

anton stayed in the same position, not looking at his phone.

pleaseeeee antonnnnnn

anton went back to his phone and you could see his shoulders slightly raise. he must’ve been laughing at your pain and desperation.

anton didn’t reply to your text but when lass dismissed he approached you after throwing everything into his backpack. you stay seated at your desk, looking up to anton who stands on the other side. he looks the same as he did outside of your courtyard, a single strap of his backpack over his shoulder.

“you wanna walk together?” anton asked.

anton hated that you didn’t want more from him. but he loved the way you smiled at him from your seat and the way you bounced happily all the way to your apartment with him standing behind you. he loved when you grabbed his hand once you entered the safety of your dorm room, and how you rode him on the beanbag next to your bed. anton loved that you couldn’t even wait to get him on your bed and how you became a babbling mess above him. the night ended with anton fucking up into you while he easily held your hips in place. anton loved looking at your face the most, and then feeling your sweaty body slump against him when you were all spent. anton wrapped his arms around your body and continued to fuck you until he was spent. he asked you if you wanted to go to the dining hall after you got dressed, or go on a walk with him. you looked at anton like he was crazy before crawling up to your bed, saying you were tired.

you wanted to use sex with anton as a treat, only having him after a stressful week or when you did really well on a test. but anton became an addiction neither of you wanted to handle. at your worst you were calling him everyday, asking if he could swing by your dorm to help you with something while yunjin was out. that something was the aching between your thighs, and you found out early on that anton was the only one who could satiate you. 

anton hated that you only wanted him for sex. if he had told any of his fraternity brothers they would’ve been confused. having no strings attached sex with a beautiful girl was an ideal situation. but anton wanted more. he wanted to hold your hand in public and walk around with you on campus. anton knew that you were focused on school, and him confessing feelings would complicate your situation, or worse lead to you calling your arrangement off completely. so anton settled for being there when you needed him, responding to your late night texts by knocking at your door in just gray sweatpants and a hoodie. he settled for abiding by your stupid rules, and he settled for giving you dick whenever you asked, whether it was a quickie before your roommate got back or a large warm hand over your clothed pussy while you studied in the library. it wasn’t all anton wanted, but he reveled in the fact that in those moments you only thought of him.

anton swore he could see you slowly getting attached too. sometimes when he’d come into your dorm you’d get on your tiptoes to kiss his nose sweetly, or throwing on his hoodie after sex like you didn’t have clothes of your own. he loved seeing you in his clothes and he knew you loved it to some degree too, stealing a few of his hoodies to keep in your closet. 

you remember when you started craning your neck so anton could kiss your lips during sex. you were the first one to set the boundary to avoid kissing on the lips, too intimate for just being sex buddies. but he had you in missionary and made you feel so full. anton found his way around the kissing rules by pressing his lips to your cheek and forehead before going to your neck. anton found out that sucking on your neck made your mind short circuit, making you completely forget that he was breaking the rules you set. but you were the one that pulled anton’s head from the crook of your neck when he pushed into you slowly.

“kiss me anton.” you whined.

anton wasted no time making out with you while thrusting into you slowly. your spit tasted almost as sweet as your slick and anton spent the rest of the night trying to memorize how your mouth felt. he didn’t know when he’d get another chance to kiss you like this again.

honestly, it was cruel how you kept him around without telling you how you felt. you figured that if you spent enough time ignoring your feelings for anton they’d subside, and maybe he’d stop liking you too. neither of you talked about how you begged for his kisses last night, but he didn’t care as long as you kept letting it happen. 

it had been three months since you started your arrangement with anton. three months of him chasing after you and three months of you ignoring him and your own feelings. anton stopped answering to your texts as often and he stopped asking you to hangout outside of sex. you  knew that anton was losing interest and it made you panic. you hated to admit that you would miss more than just sex if he stopped talking to you. so your dynamic had change over time. it was you showing up to anton’s door late in the middle of the night now. 

when anton opened the door you gave him your brightest smile, trying to get the same one back. you felt your heart drop when he only gave you a small one back, making enough space for you to come inside the frat house. when you tried to give anton a kiss on his cheek he turned away, walking up the stairs to his room. now it was you that trailed behind anton with a white knuckle grip on your overnight bag, feeling like you weren’t wanted. anton was still sweet to you, moving behind you to lead you to his room like you had forgotten.

anton was still a really good host, he made sure to clean his room top to bottom each time he knew you were coming over. he put on quiet music for you and ambiance lighting, a warm and dim orange light to not be too presumptuous. anton was confusing to you, the way he seemed like he didn’t care but was nicer to you than you were to him.

anton had made his way to the couch in his room, sitting right in the middle. you dropped your bag and took of your shoes, walking to stand in front of him. anton went into his seat further, leaning his head to rest on the back of the couch. anton had a hand on his thigh and the other along the back edge of the couch as he looked up at you. he was so nonchalant you felt yourself scrambling.

“i missed you.” you said. 

you reached out a hand to him but anton didn’t grab it, only rubbing up and down his thigh. 

“you could’ve said hi to me in class.” anton said calmly.

it was true. you both knew it was. but you had to keep up appearances and for some reason pretend like you didn’t spare anton a second glance outside of the bedroom. anton spread his legs slightly as he settled more into the couch, looking you up and down. with that hat on it was hard to tell what anton was looking at, if he was staring at your face or your body. you bent down until your hands rested on his shoulder, trying to look into his eyes. you took off the hat he wore and anton brought the hand resting on the back of the couch to push back his hair. 

anton stared back at you with a look that made your stomach do flips. anton’s eyes stayed locked on yours, checking for a change in your expression he brought his hand that was on his thigh to your hip, slightly pulling you onto the couch. you straddled anton, hands picking at the material of his sweatshirt. now that you had seen the body underneath the sweatshirts you felt yourself going a little crazy, especially how he wore nothing underneath. you could see his collarbone, dressed with a fading pink mark from the last time you two met up. you continued to fiddle with the fabric of anton’s sweater, waiting for him to say something to you. you found yourself driven by his voice in bed lately, the way he would softly guide you through the motions or tell you sweet things. one of your hands drifted down his body, resting over his hand on your hip.

“i’m taking bahiyyih to the social.” anton said. 

you had to control your expression, hiding the twinge of pain you felt at the thought of anton with another girl. the fact that he said it so casually made it hurt even more. you knew you didn’t have the right to be mad—it made sense. bahiyyih was in the sister sorority and you had declined anton’s invitation. but you thought it meant he would go alone, just like he did for the last social. now he was going with a girl that could possibly have a crush on him. you bit back the jealousy, bringing anton’s hands that were on your waist to the buttons of your shirt. 

“she’s a sweet girl.” you say after clearing your throat. 

anton hums in agreement as he undoes your buttons. he looks at your shirt, more and more of your skin becoming exposed to him. he wished that he was going with you, only asking bahiyyih after he was pressured into finding a date. you were right, she was a sweet girl. but she wasn’t you.

when your shirt was off you noticed that anton didn’t help you out of it like he usually did. his hands went back to your hips while you shimmied out of your shirt and bra. anton’s eyes that were usually glued to your chest looked at the skin on your neck, running a gentle hand along your collarbone. everything that usually made anton tick wasn’t working, and you could feel yourself slowly going insane.

“take off your pants for me?” you asked.

you hated that your voice sounded meek at the command. anton listened regardless, lifting you and his hips so he could pull his pants down. his dick was still hard as it rested against sweatshirt. you grabbed his length, giving him a few pumps to gauge his reaction. anton did let out a content sigh, but he didn’t look down to see your hand wrapped around his dick. his eyes were scanning your face, his hand going to your face. you awkwardly stand from anton’s lap to rid yourself of your own pants.

anton follows your lead as you situate yourself on his couch. you try to think what position would be best, maybe you shouldn’t see his face tonight. you go on your hands and knees and anton slots himself between your legs, a large hand resting on your ass cheek to spread your folds. you hear anton spit on his length and hear him pumping his dick before he lines it up to your entrance. this is the part where anton would lean over and kiss your shoulder blade, but instead he just slowly pushes himself into you. the stretch with no prep is painful, but you take it anyway. anton barely makes a sound when he is in all the way, only the sound of his breath coming out slightly labored filling your ears. you look behind you to get a glimpse of anton, and he stares at your back. 

“talk to me anton.” you are practically begging him to give you something.

instead he pulls out, of you and sits back on the couch. you turn back around to face him, trying to cover up your body. anton’s face is in his hands as he slightly shakes his head.

“i’m sorry. i can’t do this anymore.” anton apologizes.

you wish you could disappear.

“did you not like it?” you ask quietly.

“no, i just,” anton looks up from his hands to look at you, feeling genuinely sorry that you look so dejected. ”i just can’t keep having emotionless, no strings attached sex with you.”

“i thought you didn’t like me anymore.” you said

anton looks at you with confusion before shaking his head again.

“i tried to stop it but i can’t,” anton looks for your clothes on the floor of his apartment. he can’t bring himself to look at you, or to outwardly tell you goodbye. “maybe it’s for the better.” he says

“i don’t want to stop being with you.” you respond. 

there is a lump in your throat that materializes out of nowhere, growing in size when you see anton looking for your clothes.

“i can’t do just sex.” anton says back to you. “i need more.”

“with bahiyyih?” you ask.

for the first time in your life, you see anton get visibly annoyed. you randomly mentioning a girl almost has him yelling out loud in anguish. how could someone like you be so smart and so stupid at the same time. his hand goes to his temple to rub it slightly, and he closes his eyes.

“not with bahiyyih.” anton says quietly.

it was in front of your face the whole time, offered to you on a silver platter. you ignored it each time. maybe you didn’t deserve anton. but he was about to leave your life forever if you didn’t do something about it.

“i want more than just sex.” you blurted out. “i want more, too.”

anton’s eyes got wide while he looked to you. he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, how sincere your voice sounded. 

“i like you anton. i don’t know why i’m so scared to tell you.”

anton not saying anything back to you caused your mouth to begin running. you couldn’t stop yourself from being uncharacteristically honest with him. 

you felt stupid until anton held your hands in his, looking deep into your glazed eyes to see if you were lying.

“do you mean it?” anton said simply.

if you said another word, you were sure you would cry. so you nodded your head and closed the gap between you and anton. it was a quick and simple chaste kiss on his lips, but both of you knew what the kiss really meant. the war was over, and your contract of no strings attached was finally null and void.

anton smiled before kissing you the same way you kissed him. anton pecked your lips over and over as he lead you to his hips again. you go back to straddle his hips but anton doesn’t let you settle before he picks you up.

“wanna be my girlfriend?” anton asks.

you smile like an idiot in love and nod your head.

“wanna be my boyfriend?” you ask back.

you can feel the heat on your face as anton nods his head and smiles. he leans into another kiss while smiling, loving the feeling of your lips against his.

anton walks you over to the bed and lays you down on the sheets. the word slides off his tongue perfectly. anton doesn’t waste a second before crawling above you. his hand rested by your head while he hiked one of your legs up. he placed a strong kiss to your lips, one that left you lifting your head so it would take longer to break. anton looked down the space between your two bodies, his dick sitting upright looking for stimulation. anton lowered his body until it was resting on yours, almost crushing you with his weight. he bent his legs until his tip found your founds. 

anton used his dick to shallowly thrust through your folds, loving the sound of slick and his sticky tip interacting. he loved hearing your whines as he teased you, and seeing your squirming hips as you tried to get his dick inside of you. anton kissed your cheek and you only tried to kiss him back a beat later, your mind preoccupied with all the teasing. anton used the arm on your leg to drag you down slightly, bringing your hole closer to him.

“you’re not just saying you like me so i’ll keep fucking you like this right?” anton asked.

you shook your head immediately, heart hurting at the tiny amount of pain you detected in his voice.

“i like you alot anton,” you loved the feeling of the confession rolling off your tongue. you wished you had said it sooner. “i like you so much.” you repeated. 

“good.” he kissed your cheek again. the tip of his dick was prodding at your entrance, and you couldn’t stop pulsing. “can i fuck my girlfriend now?” he asked.

anton asking you something so lewd with the gentle and airy tone in his voice nearly left you in tears as you nodded your head like an idiot. anton pressed a deep kiss to your lips, sticking his tongue in your mouth in the same moment he slid into you. you could barely kiss him back, moaning at how full you felt. you fought to keep your eyes open, loving the view of anton’s large body above you and his big eyes that were full of adoration. you can’t believe you almost let yourself lose him. anton must’ve felt the same, because he pressed his lips to your forehead before going into the crook of your neck. he pulled all the way out and slid back in, so slow you could feel every vein and every twitch of his dick. you walls spasmed around his thick dick, causing anton to groan into your ear when he tried pulling out.

“can you feel me?” anton asked. 

he had a sarcastic twinge to his voice, like you weren’t almost struggling to take all of him. 

“yes,” you pulled back your hips to meet anton’s slow thrusts. “your dick feels so nice.” you whimpered.

“your pussy is wet and tight,” anton licked the shell of your ear before blowing cool air on it. “all for me.”

he pulled his head from your neck to watch himself disappear into your pussy. he pulled all the way out, messing up the tempo he set, all so he could watch it again. anton’s body shivered against yours, you brought your hand to the nape of his neck to play with his hair.

“it’s a perfect fit.” anton said.

he sounded astonished, seeing how well you took him and feeling the sensation of you closing in around him.

”so perfect.” you agreed.

you loved the puffs of hot air you felt on the shell of your ear and your neck, the way it was followed by anton’s tongue licking the area. these were the motions you guys have gone through a million times before, but knowing that anton was yours now and you were his heightened everything.

“i’ve wanted you like this for so long.” anton breathed into your ear. 

“you should’ve told me.” you whined out.

anton’s hair was soft in your hands, his locks tickling your knuckles. you gripped his hair to only lightly tug on it, you preferred just feeling an extension of him in the palm of your hand. anton laughed against your neck, pulling his lips from a forming bruise with a gentle pop.

anton put his arms around your and sat up, bringing your body up with him. he manhandled you into a new position, one where you were both facing eachother and sitting up. you had never seen anton from this angle before, having to lock eyes with him while he fucked up into you slowly. his hand on your side next to your chest helped you stay up in the air so you had to do little to no work. his large hand on your side covered most of the area, his hand accidentally teasing your sensitive nipples. when anton saw your face change from the slight stimulation he experimentally moved his fingers that pressed into your boob. you let out a sigh from the feeling, and anton looked up to you before jutting out his bottom lip.

“why didn’t you tell me?” anton pouted.

you weren’t sure what he meant until he took your entire areola into your mouth. you clenched around him tightly, and he let you set the pace for riding him. feeling anton’s tongue expertly flick over your nipple drove you insane. you were bouncing on his dick faster than you ever had, feet planted on either side of his body to give yourself more leverage. you made sure to not go to high, so anton could keep your tit in his mouth. 

anton loved seeing you bounce on him with a new vigor. he had never seen you perform quite like this when you were only his fuck buddy. but now that you were his girlfriend you rode him with a purpose, and a tiny voice in anton’s head told him that you had to be trying to get pregnant. anton would have to wait to tell you how bad he wanted to give you a child, one with your beautiful smile and personality. he let his teeth graze the sensitive skin of your nipple. you whined and leaned your body back, fingernails digging into the skin of anton’s shoulder.

“so good anton. so good.” you praised.

anton moved to your other breast after wrapping an arm around you to pull you close to him. he needed you as close as possible when you came, and he needed to see your face as he did it. anton separated his mouth from your nipple only to sloppily lick the areola. this was his first time playing with your breasts so extensively and he was already obsessed with it. the way the supple skin melded into his lips and how reactive you were to it. he loved the way you pet his head gently as he sucked on your chest, biting your lip to hold back high-pitched whines when he did something new.

anton reluctantly separated from your chest when he felt your hips begin to slow. you were not an athlete by any means, your legs already burning from riding anton for only a few minutes. luckily, your boyfriend was here for you. so he let you rest on his strong thighs while he slowly pulled back his hips to fuck you slowly again. anton would’ve continued with your fast pace but he needed to bask in the moment, to not get distracted by keeping up the fast speed. 

this seemed to effect you more, making you pull his body into your chest as you moaned loudly. the feeble attempts to be quiet was long abandoned, and anton loved that. he wanted his whole frat house to hear how good your boyfriend was making you feel. he could feel the vibration of your voice through your chest, the sound slightly muffled on one side because of how tightly you were pulling him in.

when you were getting close, you pulled anton from your chest and moved your hands to his face. he looked into your blown out eyes and you looked into his. he ran his tongue over his swollen lips before you let out a prolonged moan.

“anton i’m close.” you whimpered.

only then did anton let himself slam your body down on his. he loved the way your voice shook when he got a little rougher. he was still just as slow as he let out a groan.

“fuck,” anton pulled you back down on him again. “me too.” he grunted.

“can you do it inside?” you asked. 

your voice had gotten quiet and breathy. anton smiled and nodded before kissing your lips. you were too cute when you were shy.

anton brought you down one more time before you crumbled into his arms. you used the remaining amount of your energy to try and overpower anton, needed to feel him fully inside of you while you uncontrollably spasmed around him. you could feel your cum seep around his dick and anton leaned back to watch you swivel your hips trying to get him deeper inside of you. it was pitiful and beautiful, seeing his girlfriend chase her pleasure like that. 

seeing you high off of him made him follow closely after you. anton gripped your ass and panted into your chest while he shot ropes of cum directly into you. it caught him by surprise, it left him a whimpering mess while his head resting on your chest. when you rose your hips to come back down it was his turn to exert his strength, easily keeping you in place while he continued to whine out your name over and over again. you continued to milk him and anton felt like he was cumming for centuries. 

he brought you down with him to the bed, both of you panting. you rested on anton’s chest and felt him squirm underneath you from stimulation as he pulled himself out of you. your hole continued to seize around nothing, still coming down from the high anton brought you to.

the sweat on your chests was cold on your skin by the time you regained your sanity. anton’s hand traced shapes on your back, and you shivered when he lightened his touches more and more. you heard shuffling outside, probably the sound of his fraternity brothers moving around the house. 

you looked up at anton from his chest and smiled when you saw he was already looking at you. he pinched your cheek and you kissed his chin. you moved some of his hair from his face and he kissed your hand once you were done. you sighed contently feeling his body underneath yours, resting your head on his chest to hear his heartbeat.

“so you’re gonna take me to the formal right?” you ask, smiling against his skin.

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Beer and Bunny’s

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Eddie can’t seem to get himself to make a move on the new bartender at the hideout he has a crush on, but one night you decide to take matters into your own hands and he sees something that he just can’t resist. Wk:4.5K

Warnings: 18+MINDI Smut (unprotected P in V), Oral (M & F), Eddie being a lil pervy but reader is into it, kind of inexperienced!Eddie (he’s really nervous and has a lot of self doubt. My head canon for this Eddie is that he’s been with a few girls but none of them were interested in more than a one night stand), no use of Y/N so pet names, and I think that’s it? The smut is kinda soft n sweet, nothing too crazy. Lmk if I missed any!!

A/N: So I was running errands wearing my black mini skirt and my pink bunny panties the other day and this idea came to me. It’s super self indulgent tbh, but in my mind Eddie would lose his shit over something like this and I’ll die on that hill. 🫡 Also I usually read through my shit obsessively but I only read through this once so if you see mistakes, no you didn’t. (Not really tho pls tell me so I can fix them bc typos make me crazy) My Masterlist

Eddie was in a trance, playing his guitar on autopilot as he watched you bus tables, make drinks, and occasionally indulge a customer’s flirting for extra tips. Not that you needed to, that dress and your sweet smile was enough to have any man dumping his wallet out and emptying his bank account for you. Or maybe that was just him.

He knew it wasn’t though, because even though his band was up there putting their hearts into playing for 15 people tops, most of their eyes followed you. Granted it was mostly drunk middle aged men besides Ruth, a 60 something year old woman who was always sitting in the same stool at the bar, drinking the same cheap vodka, with her red lipstick smudged on her teeth. But still, he’s convinced even if the room was filled with a hundred women you’d still be the prettiest one there.

You started working at the hideout a few months ago when you moved to town and ever since then it was like Eddie was possessed by you. He thought about you constantly, the way those cut up band tees always fit so perfectly and how your ass always looked in those tight little skirts has him fisting his cock sometimes twice a night. He wanted to record the way your voice sounded saying his name when you’d bring him his favorite beer after a show without him even asking and play it on a loop over and over again.

But that wasn’t all, he thought about little things like holding your hand, or going to the drive-in and watching horror movies with you. Or just kissing you, god, he wanted to kiss your pretty glossed lips.

The only issue was every time you talked to him it was like his brain turned to mush and everything he had practiced to say disappeared from his mind.

Tonight was different though. After their last song when you came to bring him his beer, you gave him that sweet smile and told him how awesome they did like you always do. But then it happened. You accidentally walked backwards into one of the small amps, tipping it backwards.

“Oh my god! I'm so sorry, shit!” You apologized before turning around to pick it up and when you did Eddie felt like he was about to cum in his pants.

You were wearing this tight little faux leather mini dress with a zipper that went all the way down the middle and these sexy calf high combat boots. But when you bent over he saw you were wearing the cutest pink panties that had little bunnies printed all over them and something about that combination made him absolutely feral.

He heard a whistle behind him and when he snapped his head around to see where it came from he saw one of the guys sitting at the table closest to the stage practically licking his lips while he ogled you. He instantly felt possessive and moved closer so he was standing a few inches behind you, blocking you from everyone else.

You pulled the amp up with a huff before turning around and nearly jumping out of your skin when you realized how close he was.

“Holy shit! You scared me!” You brought your hand to your chest and laughed. “I didn’t know you were so close.”

“Y-yeah I’m sorry, when you bent over, you could uh- see your panties and um… people were looking.” He turned beet red and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh, you’re so sweet Eddie, protecting my modesty.” You placed a hand on his forearm and caressed it with your thumb a few times before you stepped close enough to him to whisper in his ear. “Were you looking too?” You pulled away just enough to look up into his eyes through your lashes.

“I- I mean- fuck.” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry… I know I shouldn’t have you were just standing right in front of me and then that guy whistled and-“

“Eddie!!” You squeezed his arm gently to get him to look at you and when he did you just wanted to kiss him. Those big brown eyes all filled with a mixture of lust and guilt were driving you crazy. “It’s okay… I want you to look.”

He’s pretty sure his brain just short circuited, you want him to look? What does that mean?

“I- you want me to- really?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “You think I dress like this every time I work? Nope. Only on Tuesdays… just for you, Eds.”

“Shit. Really?” He looked at you in disbelief, he couldn’t believe the girl he’s been dreaming about is really standing here in a sexy little dress telling him that she wore it for him.

“Yeah.” You nodded and bit your lip. “I like how you look at me, it makes me… So. Wet.”

He threw his head back and groaned, he never thought you’d be so forward like this.

But he didn’t know that you had been waiting for him to make a move on you for weeks. You were tired of dancing around your obvious attraction to one another so you decided tonight you were going to take matters into your own hands.

“Shit sweetheart. You can’t just say things like that to me in public. You’re seriously going to make me bust in my pants. ”

“Well… don’t do that.” You giggled. “I know somewhere better that you can cum though…” You ran your hand down his arm and linked your hands together causing him to shiver. God, he was so responsive, you knew he liked you but apparently you didn’t know just how much.

“Fuck. Are you serious?”

“Deadly. You have a van, right? What’s the back like? Maybe you can show me.” You winked at him.

“Shit, yeah, I’d love to. But I have to put all this shit in the back and take it back to Gareth’s garage.” He looked so disappointed you just wanted to kiss his pouty pink lips.

“Hmmm… well, I live down the street. What if you drop off your stuff and meet me at my place after?” You suggested.

“GARETH! Take my van to your house, I’ll come get it later.” He turned to his drummer and threw him his keys.

“Dude. Seriously? You’re just going to leave us to pack up all this shit?”

His other band mate, who you think is named Jeff, looked between you and Eddie and put two and two together pretty quickly.

“We’ve got it man, have fun!” He wiggled his eyebrows at him before going back to packing up their equipment.

“Well, it looks like I’m all yours.” Eddie smiled at you nervously. God, he was just too cute.

“Looks like it, cutie. I’m off now, just gotta clock out. I usually walk so if you just wanna wait outside I’ll be right there.” You got on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before jumping off the stage and walking toward the back of the bar, making sure to swing your hips extra for him.

•

The walk back to your apartment was filled with easy conversation and stolen glances, hands grazing but not quite grasping onto each other. The air heavy with the tension of what was to come.

“This is me!” You gesture towards the front door of your apartment before unlocking it and letting him inside.

Eddie looked around as you turned on some lights, he saw some cool posters on the walls and a large bookshelf in the corner. But before he could take in too much of your world you walked over to him and put your arms around his neck.

“Hi.” You smiled at him with a glint in your eye.

“Hey.” He returned your smile with a crooked smirk, bringing his hands to rest on your hips.

You brought one of your hands to his jaw, cupping it and running your thumb along his cheek. “I really really want to kiss you right now.”

He didn’t respond, instead he pulled you closer by the hips and smashed his lips against yours. His lips felt just as you imagined, pillowy soft and just the tiniest bit chapped. He tasted like the beer you gave him, the cigarette he smoked on the walk, and something that was just him. You moaned into the kiss, shoving your hands into his hair, tugging slightly. He groaned when you licked along his bottom lip, allowing you access. He kissed you until your knees were weak and you were both breathless.

“You are so beautiful. Fuck. I can’t believe I’m here right now. This feels like a dream.” He ran his hands up your sides over your dress. “Also this fucking dress… Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah? You like it? It’s new.” You took a step back so you could do a twirl for him. “I thought about you when I bought it, you know…” you brought your finger to the o-ring at the top of the zipper and tugged on it a little.

“I thought about you dragging me to the dingy bar bathroom, shoving me up against the wall and ripping it off me.”

“Holy. Fuck. You’re naughty, huh?” He chuckled.

“Maybe, wanna find out?” You grab his hand and start walking backwards toward your bedroom, dragging him with you.

You plop down on your bed to take your boots off but before you can reach for the laces Eddie walks forward and takes your foot in his hand, unlacing your shoes for you. Once they’re loose enough he pulls them both off your feet and he’s pretty sure you aren’t real at this point.

Your socks are the same pink as your panties with cute little bunny ears at the top of the ankles. Your socks match your panties.

“Yeah, you like these too?” You wiggled your toes in front of his face and giggled while he looked at you and froze, his face turning bright red.

“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, you did. Wanna know if my bra matches too?” You sit back on your hands and stick your chest out.

“Hell yeah I do.” He nodded dumbly.

“Why don’t you take my dress off and find out then, pretty boy.”

He didn’t hesitate to lean down and slip his finger into the o-ring zipper of your dress, slowly beginning to slide it down. When the tops of your breasts were exposed it became more and more clear that your bra didn’t match your panties because you weren’t fucking wearing one. He pulled the zipper down until it was just under the bottom of your tits and just as he thought, no bra. Your chest was on full display, slightly glistening with sweat from the material of your dress and he wanted to lick it off.

“Fuck, look at you… prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.” Not that he’d seen many but he’s pretty sure these are the best tits in the world regardless.

“You can touch them Eddie, I want you to.” You brought your hands up to squeeze them a few times before grabbing onto your nipples and twisting.

“Hold on, I’m appreciating the art before I destroy it.” He grabbed back onto your zipper and pulled it the rest of the way down so your dress was hanging open. You let the straps fall down your arms, leaving you in just those little panties and socks and he had never seen anything sexier. Your hair was a bit disheveled but still in the style you had done it in before you left for work earlier that night and your slightly smudged dark eye make-up contrasted with the soft pink of your garments. You stand up in front of him and play with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Take this off? I wanna see you too.”

He reaches behind his back to pull his shirt over his head and god damn. He has a few tattoos littered across his pale chest, his skin mostly smooth aside from his happy trail that you wanted to nuzzle your nose into on your way down to his cock.

“Wow. You are so sexy Eds.” You run your nails down his chest and torso, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and pulling his chest against yours. The feeling of your bare nipples pressed up against his warm skin sent shivers down your spine.

“Yeah? You think so? I think you’re the sexiest girl in the world.” He blushed.

“Thank you baby, can I take these off?” You pull on his belt loops with your fingers, running your thumbs along his soft waist.

“Please”

That’s all you needed to hear before you were on your knees in front of him, undoing his pants and pulling them down with his boxers.

“Holy shit Eddie…” Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the sight of him fully bare in front of you. “You have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to taste it.” And you meant it, his cock was fucking huge, the hard tip leaking just for you.

He was speechless, looking down at you on your knees in front of him with wide eyes.

You lean forward and run your tongue along his slit, holding eye contact with him while you take his tip in your mouth, suckling on it a few times before taking him deep in your throat.

“Oh fuuuuckkk holy shit.” He brought his hand to the back of your head and rested it there gently, letting you set your own pace.

But it was too gentle. You didn’t want him to hold back.

“Eddie.” You pulled your mouth off him with a pop and a string of saliva. “Use me, pull my hair, fuck my mouth, don’t be shy.”

“Holy shit. Are you- are you sure?” He was panting, looking down at you like you just told him he won the lottery.

“I’m so fucking sure, so so sure. If I don’t like something I’ll tell you baby. I promise, I like it rough.”

You spit in your hand, grabbing onto his cock and tugging it a few times before looking up at him with your tongue out.

He was still looking down at you with those big shiny doe eyes and you were about to lose it if he didn’t do something. Your other hand grabs onto his, guiding it to your hair and signaling for him to grab onto it. It took his mind a second to catch up but when he did it was like something snapped in him.

He grabbed onto your hair hard and slid his cock along the length of your tongue, hitting the back of your throat.

“Close your mouth- yeah, like that.” Once your lips were wrapped around him he started to slowly rock back and forth in your mouth, testing you by going deeper with each thrust.

After a few times of him hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag he realized you liked it. Your eyes were watery, mascara starting to run down your cheeks, drool was dripping down your chin and you were fucking moaning around him like you were getting as much pleasure out of this as he was.

He was fully fucking your mouth now, pumping his cock down your throat while he cursed and moaned, using you just like you wanted. You reach your hand up to grab onto his drool slick balls and take them in your palm causing him to jerk forward and let out the sexiest moan yet.

“FUCKING SHIT!” He used your hair to pull you off of him and you look up at him with hooded eyes, a mixture of his precum and your drool dripping down your chin and he has to physically will himself not to cum at the sight. “ If you keep that up I’m going to cum in the next thirty seconds and I was really hoping I’d get to fuck you.”

“What? You don’t wanna cum twice? We have all night, unless you’re busy then I guess you can stop.” You said dramatically, in a way that he would’ve stopped to find really cute if he wasn’t so fucking turned on right now.

He practically growled as he grabbed back onto your hair and resumed his assault on your throat. One of your hands finds its way back to his balls while the other snakes around him to grab a handful of his ass for leverage.

“F-fuck this mouth is so fuckin- You’re such a good girl fuckin droolin all over, grabbin my balls while I use your little mouth. Wearing those little fuckin panties and socks. Fuck!” His grip on your hair tightened and his hips sputtered as you felt him explode in your mouth. You swallowed around him, moaning at his taste and taking all that he gave you.

He released his hold on your hair and you pulled your mouth off of him, bringing your pointer finger to the corner of your mouth to swipe the cum that dripped there into your mouth.

“Mmmm, you taste so good Eddie.” You smiled up at him, still on your knees.

“Yeah? I bet you taste even better.”

“Wanna find out?” You smirked at him, getting to your feet and laying back on the bed.

“Fuuuuuck” Eddie groaned at the sight of you laying there for him with your legs spread, a very prominent wet patch in those fucking panties, your hands grabbing on to your tits while your fingers pinch your nipples. You looked like the only meal he wanted to eat for the rest of his life. He got on the bed on his knees between your legs, smashing his lips to yours and kissing you like his life depended on it. He slid his tongue along your bottom lip and you immediately granted him access. He tasted himself on your tongue and it caused him to moan into the kiss.

He kissed down your jaw to your neck, running his tongue along the column of your throat, stopping just behind your ear at your pulse point to suck a mark there. He kissed and licked and sucked all the way down your body, stopping to pay your nipples extra attention.

When he reached the band of your panties he licked across your waist and nipped at your hips causing you to let out breathy little moans. He placed a kiss on each of your hip bones before placing one right on the top of your mound, looking up at you with those fucking eyes.

“Mmm baby, I can smell you.” He groaned as he breathed in your scent, flicking his tongue out to run it along your cloth covered slit, adding extra pressure to your clit. He wraps his lips around your bud, swirling his tongue, and even with the small barrier between you it still makes you see stars. He licks all around your cunt, soaking your already wet underwear as he laps at it. Finally he brings his finger to your panties to move them to the side and you barely even have time to process before he’s shoving his tongue as deep as it can go inside of you. Your back arches off the bed as you cry out.

“Oh f-fuck! Yes Eddie fuck!” Your hands come down and tangle into his hair, tugging it and causing him to groan into your pussy, the vibrations going through you like a shockwave.

His tongue came back up your bud, rotating between rough and soft flicks. His pointer and ring finger circle your hole before he inserts them both fully without resistance. He pumps them in and out of you, the room filled with the sounds of your moans and wetness as he laps at you. He sucks harder on your clit just as he curls his fingers just right and you see stars. Your grip on his hair tightened as your hips rocked against his face, his name on your lips like a prayer, riding out your high until it becomes too much and you’re pushing his head off of you.

He looks up at you with your jucies still running down his chin and fucking smiles.

“Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

“Yeah? And have you tasted a lot of pussys, Mr. Munson?” You tease.

“I mean-“ Suddenly his face flushes red and that shy nervous boy from earlier was back “Not… that many, a few. I’m no lady killer or anything I mean you know this town is I-“

You grab his face in both of your hands and place a soft kiss on his lips.

“Honey, I was just teasing, I don’t care how many girls you’ve been with, I wouldn't even care if you hadn’t been with any.”

You smiled at him sweetly, pushing his bangs off his forehead and he smiled back, kissing you deeply. There was something so comforting about you to him, he felt like he could truly be himself with you and he’s not sure he’s felt that when he was with a woman ever.

You sit up and push him down by his shoulders, swinging your leg over to straddle him. Your underwear were still pushed to the side, your slick pussy lips were nestled on either side of his shaft as you slid back and forth on him with ease.

“I can’t wait to feel this pretty cock splitting me open.” You leaned forward and slid your fingers in the band of your underwear to take them off but Eddie’s hands came down on yours, stopping you.

“Can you keep them on?” His eyes were pleading, his lips pouty.

“Anything for you, sweet boy. You really like these huh?” You giggled.

“The whole cute pink panties and socks underneath the black leather thing is really doing it for me, if you couldn’t tell.” He bit his lip, running his hands down your sides before bringing them to your tits to squeeze them roughly.

You giggled as you rose up to your knees, taking him in your hand so you could line him up with your entrance and sink down on him slowly. Once your hips were flush against his you both moaned loudly.

“Fuck, so big, filling me up so good Eds.” You rocked back and forth slightly, just adjusting to the feeling of him so deep inside you. Once you felt adjusted you rose almost all the way off his cock before slamming back down on it causing him to jerk forward and moan out your name.

“Holy fuckin shit, your pussy is suckin me in so good holy fu-fuck, ridin me s-so good baby.” And you were, you were riding him like your life depended on it. “Bouncin on my cock just like those little bunnies on your panties, is that what you are? A lil bunny?”

That snapped something inside you, it was like he said the magic words and nothing else mattered in that moment besides riding his cock, being his little bunny.

You were on your heels now, using his shoulders for leverage as you bounced on his cock. Rotating and rolling your hips, the patch of curly brown hair at his base rubbing against your clit just right.

Eddie was in Heaven, he wanted to throw his head back and shut his eyes but he couldn’t tear them off of you. You were bouncing on his cock like a rabbit in heat. A layer of sweat glistened on your body, your hair a mess, there was a bit of drool dripping down your chin and your pussy was swallowing him hole over and over again, you were so wet he could see a milky white ring of your cum on his cock. He was going to cum soon but he absolutely needed you to before he did.

His grip on your hips tightened causing your movements to halt, but before you could even protest he was fucking up into you hard and fast.

“Oh fuuuuck yes, just like that baby, right fuckin there don’t fuckin stop I’m so close.” That’s all Eddie needed to hear, he brought one of his thumbs down to your slick clit and started rubbing fast circles on it while he continued to fuck up into you at a brutal pace.

“Shit, me too bunny, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?”

“Inside! Inside please Eddie I want you to fill me up.”

“Oh godddd” He let out a guttural groan, throwing his head back while he pumped his cum deep inside of you. The feeling sent you over the edge, coming undone on his cock while he continued to sloppily fuck you both through your highs.

You sighed, and exhaustedly let your body slump over Eddie’s while you both tried to catch your breath.

“Holy. Shit. That was… wow” he chuckled, running his hands up and down your back.

“Yeah, it really was.” You giggled as you rolled off of him, laying on your side next to him and resting your chin on his chest to look up at him. He was so pretty, his hair disheveled, his skin flushed and decorated in your nail marks, his lips swollen with your kisses. He smiled at you sweetly, shifting around so he could hold you better, he finally got a glimpse of your room.

He didn’t even really look at it when you walked it, he obviously noticed that you had a black open canopy on your four post bed but what he didn’t notice was the cute stuffed animals that were sitting by your black silk pillows, or the cool ass horror movie posters on the walls that contrasted that completely. You noticed him looking around, his eyes filled with awe, like he was genuinely interested in your world and it warmed your heart.

“I like your room, you really have this whole creepy cute thing down to a science don’t you?” He smiled at you, cradling your jaw in his hand and you leaned into it.

“Mhm, I guess I do.” You returned his smile with your own sleepy one, yawning. “You wanna stay the night? You don’t have to if you don’t want to but-“

“I want to.” Eddie cut you off, it was his turn to reassure you. You had seemed so sure of yourself all night but when it came down to if he was going to leave or not he could tell it made you nervous, like maybe people didn’t usually want to stay with you after and that broke him a little. Who wouldn’t want to stay with you? You’re perfect. To him at least. “I want to stay, and I want to take you to breakfast in the morning. I also would really like to take you on a proper date, if that’s something you’d want to do.”

Your heart swelled, because you did want that, more than he knew.

“I’d love that actually.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

You both giggled and kissed each other sweetly, whispering jokes and sweet nothings into each others ears until sleep peacefully took over.

[worldlxvlys]

can u do one where the reader actually rocks Chris’ toxic girlfriends shit PLEASEEEEEE

and btw you an amazing writertrr

reader x chris who has a toxic gf (part 4)

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: cursing, violence, mention of sex

a/n: thank youuu and i hope you like :)

previous part

if someone told me two days ago that i’d be standing in my kitchen, baking cookies with chris and his girlfriend, i would’ve looked at them like they were crazy. yet here i am, doing exactly that.

it was chris’s bright idea for the three of us to spend time together, “i want you guys to try to get along” were his exact words.

i offered to do it at my house, so i could kick layla’s ass out when i got sick of her.

so now, here we were, baking cookies together. we hadn’t even been at it for longer than five minutes before layla started to piss me off.

“what the hell type of cookie sheet is this? it looks like you got it from the dollar tree” she snickered.

the sound of her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, she was obviously making it higher on purpose.

i gave her an odd look at this, “i did. why would i pay for expensive ass cooking sheets?” i squinted my eyes at her.

she looked taken aback, probably expecting me to take her words to heart.

“for real. who cares where you got it? as long as it works” chris agreed.

when he saw the look on layla’s face, his eyes widened slightly and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

chris grabbed the bag of cookie dough, starting to hand it to me.

i went to grab it before layla, who stood on my other side, reached around me and took it.

“great, let’s get started!” she spoke, an annoyingly wide grin covering her face.

i glanced at chris, giving him a look to express my annoyance without verbalizing it.

he gave me a pleading look, silently asking me to try.

letting her open the bag, i reached for the parchment paper, lining my “cheap” cookie sheets.

i watched as she struggled to open the bag, letting out dramatic huffs and puffs.

“baby, can you open this for me? my nails-” she stopped talking when i grabbed the bag from her, ripping it open.

my nails were longer than hers, however, i opened the bag without a problem.

“it’s not the nails” i spoke to her as i separated the pre-cut dough.

“and next time, if you can’t open something, don’t take it from someone who actually can” i finished.

she let out a sigh, her lips turning into a slight pout. “whatever” she said.

once the dough was separated, chris and i started to place it on the cookie sheet.

i glanced over at her, noticing that she was just standing there.

“are you actually gonna put the cookies on the sheet, or are your nails too long to do that too?” i asked.

her face dropped at that, her brows furrowing slightly. a deep frown grew on her face and she looked like she was going to cry.

“ok, i’m not just gonna stand here and let you belittle me” she said, catching me by surprise. she seemed like i genuinely upset her.

“and, you, chris ? you just let her talk to me however she wants. i’m not some monster, i have feelings” her voice broke when she spoke, “but all you care about is her”.

i pressed my lips together when chris made no effort to deny her statement, well this is awkward.

chris and i just stood there, staring at her with wide eyes.

“whatever” she shook her head, “can you just bring me home? i’m not feeling great” she asked as she looked at chris.

i squinted my eyes at her, confused. “didn’t you drive here? how is he supposed to take you home?”

chris shot a look at me that said are you serious?

“ok, forget it. never mind” i spoke, holding my hands up.

“i was asking if he could come home with me” she spoke quietly.

“yeah, just let me go use the bathroom real fast” he spoke quickly. he turned to me, “please just leave her alone” he said before walking towards my bathroom.

as soon as he left the room, her face turned into a light smirk.

my eyebrows rose as her eyes, which still had tears in them, held an evil glint.

what the fuck?

“isn’t he so gullible? all it took was a few fake tears to get him on my side” she said, her voice now at its normal pitch.

“see, the difference between you and me? you may have him wrapped around your finger, but i know exactly how to get what i want from him” she spoke.

“well, that and the fact that you’re a manipulative, lying bitch” i said.

“yet i’m the one in a relationship with him. i just know that shit hurts” she said.

her words definitely struck a nerve, but i’d never admit it.

“i’m the one who’ll be taking him home. and once he finishes comforting me, i’ll bat my eyelashes at him. tell him how much your words hurt me, and that i need a distraction”

“before i know it, i’ll be under him. i’ll hear him moan my name because, like i said, i always get what i want. call it manipulative if you want, i have needs” she shrugged once she finished.

“he’s a good fuck, it’s a shame you w-” she started but was cut off by my fist making contact with her face.

there was a sickening crack that echoed through the kitchen, as she fell back into the chair behind her. she held onto her nose, screaming out in pain.

“stand the fuck up” i told her, as she started to actually cry.

she didn’t listen, she just sat there and continued to sob.

“i told you what would happen, bitch. i don’t know why you thought i was joking” i said as i got closer to her, making her shrink away from me.

“you don’t get to talk about chris like that. your ungrateful ass doesn’t deserve him.” i grabbed her by her ponytail, making her cry out in pain.

i pulled her to her feet in one swift motion before letting go of her. i pushed her in the direction of my door, “get the fuck out of my house or i swear to god a broken nose will be the least of your problems” i said.

instead of listening to me, she spun around quickly. she swung at me, but i moved back quickly, only receiving a scratch to the face from her nails.

i swept my foot out, making her lose balance and fall to the ground. without missing a beat, i climbed on top of her and punched her over and over again.

all i could think about was the way she talked about chris, as though he was simply a thing that she used for her own pleasure.

if she thought i was just going to sit back and allow her to treat chris that way, she was wrong.

i got in a few more punches before a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me away from her.

“what the fuck are you doing?” chris yelled as he let go of me.

my face fell as i realized how bad the situation seemed. when he left she was crying and now here i was beating the shit out of her.

“chris, just let me explain” i said as he rushed over to her.

“explain? what is there to explain? when i left she was sobbing, and she still is. why would you do this?” he yelled.

i backed away from him at the tone he used, realizing how mad he was.

he picked her up bridal style, before walking towards the door.

when he walked past me, he mumbled something before walking out of the door.

“all i asked was for you to try.”

💟💟💟💟

yikes 😬😬

i think i’m gonna make this a series, should i ?

MASTERLIST #1.

MASTERLIST #2.

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @heraakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock

[starry-eyedblog]

Could you do one with either Simon and/or Price teach soap how to properly pleasure fem reader?

uhm yes the fuck i can, that's so hot please i need to be put in my cage to calm down(@~@)

warnings/tags: johnny x fem reader, simon x johnny x price, smut, degradation, dub con, oral (eating out), hair pulling, bad sex?? lol

johnny is someone who has all the right intentions; eager to please, sexually playful and always down for most things. he has the right idea, but no proper training.

that's where his superiors come in though, happy to help their sergeant learn and grow as a man. johnny had complained, well more like whinged to simon one drunken night about how about he'd never had a lass come around his cock and how no women let him eat them out for more than 5 minutes. he just didn't know what he was doing wrong!

simon had told price over a drink one late night, how they ought to show johnny the ropes and the captain agreed. so here they all were now, in a cheap hotel with you as the willing subject. you had recently met johnny on a night out and exchanged numbers, eager for a hook up. you didn't expect your first time with the cocky scot to be with two other men though.

you hesitantly agreed upon getting a glimpse of said two men, both standing tall and proud. it left you wondering if it was going to turn into a foursome but then the man in the ghost balaclava told you they were only there to make the experience more enjoyable. it didn't do much to calm you.

as of now though, you were laying on your back mostly bare, save for the pretty bra you picked out for tonight when you first got the text from johnny, who currently had his head between your thighs, licking and nibbling at what he thought was your clit.

spoiler alert, it wasn't.

you heard the bearded man speak up, tutting loudly before sauntering over to the two of you. he yanked johnny back by the hair, looking down at him and you felt your cunt drip at the display. "c'mon boy, you can do better than that eh? seriously, she's not making a peep." he grumbled, and johnny eagerly nodded.

"sorry cap," he ushered out before whining as his face was shoved back into your cunt, price keeping his head down.

"less talk, put that tongue to better use." he ordered, watching johnny intently. you continued to watch on, propped up on your elbows as johnny hooked his arms around your thighs. you let out a soft sigh as you felt johnny finally latch onto your clit. it was starting to feel good, enjoyable even.

"old man had to show me once too, it's alright johnny." simon utters out from the corner of the bed, his beady eyes watching johnny moan into your pussy.

"there you go son, that's it drag your tongue down 'er cunt. just like that." price groans, guiding johnny's head down until his tongue is sinking into your hole.

you whimper and whine as johnny finally finds all the correct spots for you. your hips buck several times, and your cunt gushes around his thick tongue. just as you're about to come, legs twitching and hands grabbing at the sheets, his warm mouth is pulled off of you.

a soft cry leaves you, your eyes fluttering open as you pout up at the scot who's face is drenched in your juices. "leave 'er wanting more, begging for your cock." price lectures his sergeant, combing his hand through his mohawk before condescendingly patting his face to urge him to get up.

johnny scrambles up onto his knees, grabbing a condom that he rips open and pulls down over his leaking cock. he looks down at you, grinning manically almost. before he can slip his cock inside, his hips are grabbed and held in place from the back by simon who looms over him at the edge of the bed. thick fingers bite into tough skin and muscle that has the scot groaning in pain.

price silently stalks around the corner of the bed, standing in johnny's line of vision with a cigar in his hand, ready to be lit. "ask before you slide into her. manners johnny, you seriously can't be this pussydrunk already." price tsks disappointedly, "fuckin' pathetic." he adds under his breath.

"ca-can i fuck ye now? please, need tae feel ye hen." johnny pants, looking back down at you and you nod softly. "yes yes please, put it in johnny." you whimper gently, watching as simon's hands guide johnny inside before pulling away so they can watch their sergeant and figure out why he's so bad.

as price lights his cigar, taking a deep inhale of the heavy smoke, simon comes to join him, heavy arms crossed over his chest. "you weren't as bad as him son, christ." the older huffs and simon dryly chuckles, watching the way johnny pistons his cock in and out of your cunt.

it's almost painful to watch, how bored and disinterested you look underneath johnny. he's mindless like a dog, only chasing his own pleasure with the way he pants and groans from how good you feel wrapped around him. he does lean down to suck and bite at your neck though, almost drooling into the crook of your shoulder when his body becomes overwhelmed with the pleasure he's receiving.

it isn't long until he's pulled off of you with a rough hand, his cock sliding out from the tight wet heat of your cunt. he whines and scrambles, desperate to get back in but simon is having none of it. he holds him back, forcing him to stay put on his knees.

"it's no wonder no one's came around your prick, boy." price tuts, exhaling a big cloud of smoke that dances and swirls up into the air. you follow it with your eyes, unable to stop your mind racing about just how weird this whole situation.

"you're fuckin her like a mindless dog. not doing anythin' to make the experience more enjoyable for her." he lectures, watching the way johnny's face flushes in humiliation, how the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"simon here is gonna guide your hips, so that you can focus on actually doing more than thinking with your cock. you'd like that, right sweetheart?" price asks you, the first time he's even spoken to you all night and you preen at his attention, he is very attractive.

you nod softly, "uhm, yes sir." you answer with a shy smile, glancing up at him and he chuckles. "that's a good girl. don't worry, we're gonna teach johnny here in no time, make this feel better for you." he states, patting your head for a moment before taking another drag from his cigar.

then, you feel the tip of soap's cock pressing at your cunt. you look up, seeing simon emerging from behind johnny with his gloved hands tightly wrapped around johnny's hips and guiding him inside of you. a soft gasp leaves you as he sinks in much slower than before, the pace is a lot more pleasant this time and you can actually feel the full length and weight of him inside of you now.

"now, bring a thumb down to her clit and gently circle it. can you do that for me son?" price orders, still standing to the side of the bed with his cigar. johnny nods his head, doing as his captain asks. as he lifts his hand, you gently tug it to your mouth and suck on his thumb, getting it covered in spit.

he watches with dazed eyes, cock throbbing inside of you as simon continues to work his hips. you then pull his hand out and guide it down to between your thighs, right above your clit so he can't miss it. johnny slowly circles the nub, watching the way your eyes flutter shut and as your tight pussy clenches around him deliciously. now he gets it, god it feels so much better like this.

johnny is a good dog, can follow orders perfectly and that is exactly what he does. as price continues to teach him tips and tricks to better his game, he slowly gets more and more control of his hips, proving he can do it on him own without simon helping him.

and finally, he makes you cum. it's one of the best orgasms you have experienced before, back arching and toes curling, cunt milking johnny for all he's worth. it's so good, it makes you forget about how weird this whole set up started off as.

@bjornthebearguy

@iciclesses

@mothymunson

[yuta-nation]

Light Shower (Yuta Okkotsu)

summary: your big brother butts into your sex life, and you both get more than you bargained for.

content: dead dove (do not eat), incest/stepcest (left unclear), big bro!yuta, afab fem!reader (no pronouns but referred to as girl, sister, ect.), inexperienced!reader, oral (m -> f), protected p -> v, squirting, fingering, possessive!yuta, pillow princess!reader, mentions of alcohol but reader is not drunk.

wc: 3.8k

a/n: HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS !! I HAVE MADE SHIT SO FUCKING CLEAR !!! anyways, i've been working on this fic for months, and i'm so happy it's finally done ! this whole thing is dedicated to @princess-okkotsu for being nasty with me and lovely to me.

You had many reasons for moving in with your older brother for your last year of undergrad. You and Yuta hadn’t lived together since he was 16 and you were 13, separated for reasons you still didn’t understand. The only time he’d visited you and your parents after he moved out had been for your high school graduation. You’d missed him a lot, but you kept in close contact online and over the phone, texting constantly and calling a few times a week with video calls sprinkled in. Despite the physical distance, your brother had become your best friend. When you told him you were planning to attend university in Tokyo, he was elated, talking about how he couldn’t wait to show you around and how excited he was to see you more often. He had kept his word, taking you all around the city during your first few weeks in Tokyo, handing you a key to his apartment, and telling you you were welcome over any time, even if he wasn’t home. He took you out to breakfast every Sunday morning and invited you over to watch movies every Wednesday evening. Your relationship thrived with the new proximity. 

Moving in with your brother would allow you to connect as siblings in a way you missed out on growing up. Yuta also lived closer to campus than you did, meaning you wouldn’t have to take the train. You liked your current roommates well enough, but they always had people over when you were studying and rarely cleaned their messes in the kitchen. Yuta was tidy and quiet. And finally, you were broke. Undergrad was expensive, the city was expensive, and grad school wouldn’t be cheap either. Yuta was willing to let you move in rent-free, declining your offer to at least pay utilities. 

 “I don’t need my baby sister’s money,” he’d said with a smile and finality that shut down any argument you tried to conjure.

You’d accepted the offer and moved in about a month ago. Living with Yuta was as easy as breathing. He was a courteous and generous roommate. He did his share of the chores and often offered to help you with your own. He brought you coffee and snacks while you studied. He carried the bags when the two of you went grocery shopping. 

And he was fun. Almost every moment the two of you spent together was full of laughter. You and Yuta cooked dinner together every night you were both home, talking and joking about your days. You weren’t sure what Yuta did for work; he’d always been vague, but you figured it had something to do with the government. But you enjoyed his stories about his coworkers and their antics. And Yuta seemed just as invested in your stories about your friends and daily life. He asked questions and remembered names and offered advice.

 The only thing you didn’t feel comfortable talking with your big brother about was your love life. Talking to Yuta about guys just felt like crossing an unspoken line. It’s not like much was going on in that aspect of your life anyway; you were too busy with school to seek out new people. Once in a while, one of your friends would set you up on a date with someone. You didn’t mind their meddling; you knew it came from a good place, and they were good judges of character. However, you had yet to hit it off with any of these match-ups. There just wasn’t that spark. So when your friend told you she’d met someone in her Econ class that would be perfect for you, you were a mix of skeptical and excited. After some persuading, you agreed to go out with Mr. Econ. 

Now you stood in the entryway, checking yourself in the mirror a final time and looking through your purse to check that you had everything. 

“Oh, are you going somewhere? I thought we were watching a movie tonight?” You turned to see your brother putting dishes in the sink.  

“Oh, Yu,  I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. I have a date tonight, so–”

“A date?” Yuta turned to face you with a raised brow, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Yeah, my friend set me up with a guy from her class. We’re going for drinks.”

“You’re meeting a man you’ve never met for drinks? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Yuta, please don’t pull the big brother act. I’m an ad–”

“It’s no act. I am your brother. It’s my job to look out for you.”

“My location is on. I’ll text you when I get there and am on my way home. Deal?”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? Yuta, you can’t ju–”

“I require a hug before I let you leave,” he said simply as a boyish grin spread over his lips. You fought your own smile as you walked into his open arms. You sighed as you felt his strong arms squeeze you tight.

“Be safe. Call me if you need me to come get you, yeah?” Yuta whispered in your ear, swaying you a bit as he spoke. 

“I will, I promise,” you said as you detangled yourself from his arms. You returned your focus to the mirror, straightening your top before grabbing your keys. 

“Wait. Do you need a condom?”

“W-what?”

“A condom. Let me go grab you one–”

“No!”

“What do you mean no? You can’t–”

“No–I mean, I already have some. Yuta, never say that word again,” you said as fire burned in your cheeks and ears.

“Condom.”

“I’m leaving.”

“I love you,” he called when you opened the door.

“Love you too.”

You were back home in a little over an hour. You couldn’t hold back your sigh as you reentered the apartment and removed your shoes. You didn’t hear the TV in the living room; Yuta must’ve forgone watching the movie by himself and went to his room. You felt a pang of guilt at that. You should’ve stayed home and watched a movie with your big brother instead of going out with an idiot business major who just wanted to fuck. You walked over to Yuta’s bedroom door and knocked.

“Yu, just letting you know I’m home,” you called out. You heard shuffling on the other side of the door, opening a few seconds later to reveal your shirtless brother. His brow was furrowed in concern as he looked down at you. 

“You said you’d text when you were on your way back. It’s still early. Did something happen?”

“No, he was just an ass. I’m going to go take my make-up off. We can still watch that movie if you want.”

“What’d he do?” Yuta asked with a hardness in his voice that you’d never heard before. You turned to face him and were met with dark blue eyes boiling with fury. You were grateful to know that his rage wasn’t directed at you; the look on his face was bone-chilling. 

“Nothing, we just had different definitions of the term ‘date.’” 

“What does that mean?”

“He just wanted to fuck. I didn’t, so I left.”

“Oh, thank God. I don’t like the idea of you having sex,” he said with a relieved sigh.

“I’m a fucking adult, Yuta. I can have sex if I want to. Though lucky for you, sex sucks,” you said hotly, turning on your heel to leave. You loved him, but Yuta had a way of getting under your skin. Your retreat was halted by his hand grabbing yours. You turned to face him; a look of confusion splayed across his features again. 

“Now, what do you mean by that?”

“Yu, I really don’t want to discuss my sex life with you. I’d actually rather die.”

“Hey, you can’t just drop that tidbit and not elaborate,” he said, maintaining his firm grip on your hand. 

“Yuta…”

“I’m not going to judge you. You can tell me about anything, you know that,” Yuta said with soft eyes. He tugged lightly on your hand, guiding you into his room. He gestured for you to sit on the bed while he sat in his desk chair. You sat down, suddenly finding Yuta’s spotless bedroom floor captivating. 

“What’s so bad about sex?” he asked gently. You knew that if you looked at him, he’d be making those puppy dog eyes that always had you spilling your guts to him. 

“Me. I’m not good at it, so I don’t like it.”

“Not good?”

“I’ve never…y’know.”

“Never what?”

“I’ve never finished, okay?”

“You’ve never cum before?”

“I do when I’m by myself. I just can’t with other people for some reason. I’m fucking broken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go die in a hole.”

“Do not be embarrassed,” Yuta said firmly as he stood and crossed the room to kneel before you. He took your chin in his hand and guided you to look him in the eye.

“You are not broken. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not your fault if you’ve only been with partners who don’t know how to satisfy you.” 

Something in Yuta’s reassuring tone forced the damn to break. Tears spilled from your eyes as you fought back the lump in your throat. A sob racked your body as Yuta joined you on the bed and wrapped you in his arms before he lifted you into his lap. He rubbed slow circles on your back as you cried and placed a kiss on your hair. 

After a few minutes, your tears subsided enough for you to speak.

“I’m sorry, Yuta, this isn’t your problem,”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetie. You’re hurting, and that is my problem.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it, though.”

“Who said that?”

“What?” you asked, raising your head to look at your brother. 

“I can help you.”

“How?”

“I can make you cum.” Yuta said with the same smile and finality he had when he convinced you to move in with him. 

“No, you can’t. You’re my brother, Yuta.”

“And it’s my job as your brother to take care of you. Let me help you. Let me show you how sex is supposed to be.”

“It’s not right, Yu. We can’t.”

“Just once. No one will know. I want you to know what it’s like to feel good. You deserve to feel good.”

“...Just once?”

“Yeah, only tonight.”

“I trust you, Yuta,” you said, meeting his eyes of your own accord. 

Yuta’s kiss was so gentle it almost brought tears back to your eyes. His lips slotted against yours with hesitance, like he expected that at any moment, you would bolt from his lap, out the door, and out of his life forever. But you knew you wouldn’t. You couldn’t deny how handsome your big brother was, how you adored his deep blue eyes and full lips, how enamored you were with his size, his large hands and broad shoulders. You couldn’t deny how much you wanted him right now.  You deepened the kiss, grazing your tongue over his lips, coaxing him to let you in. He opened up to you, allowing you to explore his mouth.

Yuta shifted you in his lap so that you were straddling him, large hands gripping your waist. You grinded down on him as you laced your fingers through his dark hair. You pulled gently, eliciting a soft moan from the man below you.

“Fuck, I could kiss you all night, baby.  You taste so good. But I gotta make you cum. Wanna taste you somewhere else,” Yuta whispered against your lips. You felt your core pulse at his words.

“Take this pretty dress off for me and lay down,” he ordered after giving your lips a final peck. You did as you were told, slowly unzipping your dress and letting it pool at your feet. You stepped out of the fabric and climbed back onto the bed, resting your head on the pillows. 

Yuta joined you on the bed, settling at your feet. He took hold of both of your ankles and gently pulled them apart, spreading your legs. You could see the desire burning in his eyes as they made contact with the crotch of your panties. Your face heated as you imagined the growing wet spot forming there. Before you could close your legs out of embarrassment, Yuta moved forward to brush his fingers over your clothed cunt. 

“You’ve been torturing me, baby, parading around in these cute little panties. Been haunting my dreams with them. Gonna let me take ‘em off, let me see your pretty pussy?” He asked, almost begging. You nodded your consent, and Yuta placed a kiss on your covered clit before pulling your damp panties off. He stifled a moan at the sight of strings of slick clinging to the fabric as he delicately removed the garment.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, breath fanning over your now-bared pussy. You watched as he tucked your panties in his pocket, and you felt your face warm even more at his actions. You gasped as you felt Yuta’s warm mouth wrap around your clit. He sucked gently before circling it with his tongue.

“Yuuuutaaaa,” you moaned at the unfamiliar yet extremely pleasant sensation. 

“Has anyone ever done this for you before baby?” he asked, voice thick with lust.

“N-no, no one,” you admitted, eager to feel his lips on you again.

“Good. Such a good girl, saving the first taste of this pussy for your big brother. So fucking sweet, baby,” he praised before diving back into your cunt. He lapped at your slit, collecting your slick on his tongue. You whined at the feeling and the lewd sounds his mouth on your pussy produced. His tongue moved back to your clit, swirling around it before latching his lips around it. His fingers found their way to your slit, sliding one inside as he continued to suck your clit. He moaned at the tightness of your heat around his finger. It was hard for him to believe that anyone or anything had breached your walls before this moment based on the vice grip they had around him.

He worked his finger in and out of your heat steadily as he continued to suck and lick at your clit, relishing in the sounds of your moans and whines. After a minute or so, Yuta slipped another finger inside you, smiling against your clit at the mewl you let out at the addition. 

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ve gotta prep you for me, okay? Gotta get you ready so you feel good, alright?” He cooed from between your legs. You nodded in understanding, desire pooling at your core. You heard Yuta tsk from his position below you. 

“Need you to use your words, pretty girl. You gotta use your voice for me.”

“O-okay. Wanna feel good, please, don’t stop!”

“That’s my girl. I’m gonna give you another finger, m’kay? You’re doing so well, pretty,” Yuta encouraged as he added a third finger, mouth returning to your clit with vigor. He was now determined for you to cum, to show you everything that you’d been missing. Everything he could give you. He fucked his fingers into you at a steady but deliberate pace. His mouth latched onto your clit, suckling firmly, using your moans and whines as a guide to how to pleasure you, how to pull more sounds from you, how to fill your brain with thoughts of him, him, and nothing else. 

“Yuta, Yuta! Cumming!” you squealed out, toes curling and back arching off the bed at the sensation of your orgasm beginning to roll over you. Yuta doubled his efforts, rolling his tongue over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace. One deep thrust of his fingers led to you practically screaming as you squirted all over your big brother’s face. Yuta couldn’t help his beaming smile as he removed himself from between your thighs as you finally settled from your high. 

“I am so sorry! I-I’ve never done that before. Please don’t be mad!” You begged as you took in his damp lips and chin. 

“Mad? Baby, why would I be mad? That was so fucking hot. Wanna make you do it again. Come here, give me a kiss. Want you to taste yourself, yeah?” You obliged, rising from the bed to meet your brother halfway. Your lips slotted against his and you marveled at the taste of yourself. You opened up your mouth for Yuta’s tongue to explore, more of your flavor exploding on your tongue at the intrusion. After a moment of sloppy making out, he finally pulled back to smile at you.

 “See how good you taste? Such a perfect girl.”

“Did I do good, Yuu?” you ask almost innocently, and Yuta wonders if you planned this, planned to seduce him tonight, planned you make his darkest, filthiest dreams come true. There was no way you were this perfect, this pure and trusting all for him. But looking in your eyes he could see the sincerity, the self-doubt, the need for approval. It made his already hard cock throb with need. 

You let out a yelp as Yuta practically tackled you to the bed, pinning you down with his legs on either side of yours and his arms forming a cage around your head. His face hovered over yours, an indiscernible look of intensity in his eyes.

“You did perfect, sweetheart. Fuck, feel that baby? That’s what you do to me,” he said as his hips bucked against yours, grinding his bulge against your soaked core. You moaned as he continued to hump against you like a teenager, bringing your legs to wrap around his hips in an attempt to bring him closer. After several moments, he pulled away, untangling your legs from around his waist. 

“Think you’re ready, sweetheart? Wanna give you my cock, want you to cum on it. Think you can?”

“Wanna try, Yuu, need your cock so bad,” you confessed, longing for the feeling and heat of him against you again. You heard him swear as he reached for the waistband of his sweats, yanking them down with his boxers. He quickly pulled them off, abandoning them on the floor with your dress. You let out a gasp when you finally saw his bare cock. It was the biggest you had ever seen in person, and it was so pretty it made your mouth water. 

“A-are you sure it’s gonna fit?” you asked hesitantly.

“We’ll make it, yeah? You’re a big girl, you can take it,” he said reassuringly as he took his cock into his hand, stroking it slowly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the motion, drool pooling in your mouth at the sight. Yuta approached you again, framing your body with his own. 

“Where’s that condom you were talking about?” 

“Purse.”

“That’s too far,” he said resolutely, reaching over to his nightstand and opening the drawer. He pulled out a square of gold foil and brought it to his mouth before slamming the drawer closed. You watched as he ripped the packet open with his teeth, catching the rubber in his open palm. He spit the wrapper out, and you watched as it fluttered towards the floor. Yuta rocked back onto his heels, sheathing his cock in the condom before returning to cage your body with his.

“I’m gonna put it in now, okay?” he asked as he lined himself up with your slit.

“Yeah, ‘m ready,” you said, feeling the head of his cock press against your opening. 

Slowly, Yuta sank into your heat, moaning at the tightness that enveloped him. You whined along with him, the stretch of him burning beautifully as he filled you. You’d never felt so full, so complete. After what felt like ages, he finally bottomed out inside you. 

He remained still, giving you time to adjust to the fullness, but you soon grew impatient, rocking your hips down.

“You can move Yuu, want you to.”

That was all the encouragement he needed to begin thrusting into you. Shallow at first, before pulling further out only to fuck into you even deeper. Yuta was perfect, fucking you deep and steady, using his free hand to toy with the nipple that wasn’t in his mouth. You were quickly overstimulated by the feeling of his mouth, cock, and fingers. All you could do was whine combinations of your brother’s name and curses as he fucked you into the mattress. 

“You take my cock so fucking well, baby. I was born for you, this dick was made just for you,” he growled against your chest, punctuating his point with a especially deep thrust. 

“Love your cock, Yuta! Feels so good!”

“Fuck yeah baby, ready to cum f’me?”

“Yes, yes, wanna cum!” you proclaimed as you felt his hand move from your nipple to your clit. He began rubbing tight circles around the bud as his hips moved relentlessly against yours. He pulled his lips off your nipple with a pop, moving up to kiss your hungry lips. 

“Such a good girl for me, such a perfect little sister, letting your big brother fuck your tight little pussy. Gonna let me do it again yeah? Not gonna be satisfied after one time, are you?” He whispered against your lips.

“No, want this all the time, feels so good Yuta! Never stop, ‘m so close, so close!”

“Come on, you can do it. Squirt all over your big brother’s cock baby! Make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me!” he urged, rubbing your clit faster as his thrusts gained speed. His dirty mouth sent you over the edge, the tight band of pleasure in the pit of your tummy snapping. You gushed on Yuta’s cock with a shriek, eyes seeing white as you came. You could barely hear his chants of “Good girl!” as he chased his own high. His hips stuttered and jerked as you milked him, finally stilling as he released his load into the piece of latex that separated you two. 

He lowered his damp forehead to rest against yours and the two of you caught your breath. After a few minutes, he pulled out and rolled from on top of you to lay beside you, wrapping you in his strong arms. You cuddled into them without a second thought, relishing in his warmth and protection. You both remained silent the whole time until you felt him take a deep breath.

“Do you…do you regret what we just did?” Yuta asked in a small voice.

“...No. Not even a little bit.”

“Thank god. We don’t have to do it again, I just wanted to make sure th–”

“What if I want to?”

“Huh?”

“What if I want to do it again?” you asked, adjusting so that you could look into his eyes.

“Then you’re gonna have to stop going on dates with shitty men.”

“Done. You’re the only man I need.”

© PU-RE-LOVE 2023. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE, REUPLOAD, OR CLAIM MY WORKS AS YOUR OWN ON ANY OTHER SITE.

[healmyhrt]

⌗ motion picture soundtrack, m. sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: matt attempts to help while you’re going through a depressive episode.

disclaimers!: depression, self-harm, drug use (marijuana), established relationship, use of y/n

a/n: this was requested:)

i laid across the comforter, limbs spread out, with the lights all off. sitting in the dark made me feel safe for some reason. i liked the dark. i found comfort in darkness.

but sometimes the darkness can become the root to my problems.

i was diagnosed with depression when i was only 14 years old. since then, it’s gotten worse, but every now and then it gets better. and it got better when i met matt.

but now im getting bad again.

and i always get bad again.

i was high out of my mind, and getting lost in my thoughts the more the weed kicked in. i always used marijuana to cope with my problems, i know i shouldn’t, but i do.

even trying to stand up was a mistake. my body wouldn’t allow it. as soon as i raised my feet, my body sunk back into the mattress. i would have preferred to drown in the mattress, dying from suffocation.

red wine and sleeping pills

help me get back to your arms

light peers into the room as the door creaks open.

but i don’t move an inch. the weed made my body feel as light as a feather, and like it told me not to move at all or else i would ruin it.

“y/n?” matt makes it clear that it’s him. he walks over to the bed, and hands me a water bottle. “you need to drink something.” i push his hand away, and realizing how much energy it took out of me.

i ignore him, and he gets up, walking over to the lamp. “you can’t be like this forever.” he turns it on. the world that was black and empty is now filled with light.

but im still lost in my thoughts.

cheap sex and sad films

help me get where I belong

“i started a bath for you. come on.” he gently picks me up, and i feel nothing in my bones, my muscles, nothing at all.

once we reach the bathroom, matt sits me on the toilet seat, and starts undressing me. “arms.” he forms a small smile.

i try to lift my arms, but not even they could be moved. matt pulls my huge t-shirt over my head, carefully, and off of my arms.

he places his hands on the waistband of my underwear. “can i?” he raises an eyebrow. i nod as much as i can.

he slides them down my legs, and im seated on the toilet seat butt ass naked. matt picks me up effortlessly again, and gently places me in the bath water.

once im situated, he kneels next to the tub, and grabs a loofa. matt starts on my shoulders, and works his way down my arms. he turns my forearm toward him, and stops.

all he saw were scars.

I think you’re crazy, maybe

I think you’re crazy, maybe

matt sets the loofa down in the water, gently grabbing my arm. his warm fingers against my skin felt like spiders crawling all over me. he takes a closer look at them, some of them healed, some fresh.

“stop.” i mumble, using all of my energy to pull my arm away. looking up at matt, his eyes watering. “y/n, what is that?”

it felt like i was talking to my mother all over again. how she reacted when she found out i harmed myself. it was terrible, i never wanted to see her cry like that again. let alone matt.

“im sorry.”

matt holds his face in his hands. my eyes start to water, and i look at him. “matt, please don’t send me away.”

he immediately looks up, with a confused expression. “send you away?” i look at the water. “i don’t wanna go there again.”

matt’s face softens, and he leans closer to the tub. “y/n, who sent you away?” even talking about this makes me think of it. and i start crying uncontrollably. my thoughts are a parasite in my brain.

stop sending letters

letters always get burned

matt softly hugs me, and his arms around me help me remember feeling. feeling like i should have been.

its not like the movies

they fed us on little white lies

matt helps me back into bed, and i feel safer, now in warmers clothes. i lay my head onto the pillow, and stare at the ceiling, laughing. i could not stop laughing.

and then it stopped.

now all of the world was gray. and grayer. and even grayer. then it was black. pitch black.

matt lays down beside me, and i turn toward him. seeing his face made me feel some sort of comfort.

like i had been living in grayscale and matt was the first thing id ever seen in color.

i think you’re crazy, maybe

i think you’re crazy, maybe

matt leans in closer to me. “y/n, can i ask you a serious question?” i nod my head slowly. but my head pounded with every movement i made.

“are you okay, seriously?”

i wanted to sink into the pillow, letting matt never have to see my face again. and me not having to answer that question ever again.

i stared at him in silence.

my eyes started to water again, and i bit my bottom lip, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to leave my eyes. and matt just hugged me.

i will see you in the next life.

[muchosbesitos]

the other woman

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

warnings: cheating (disclaimer: in no way shape or form do i condone this 🫡), angst (?), oral, doggy, missionary, and overall smut 🥸

author’s note: pretty sure y’all prefer when i write angsty miguel so enjoy 💀

word count: 4k

*Plap* *Plap*

The sound of Miguel’s cock hitting your wet, throbbing pussy reverberated through the room as you clawed at the sheets. You knew that it was wrong, that he should be at home working things out with his wife and spending time with his children. But a part of you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride when Miguel called you asking to come over. You knew it was wrong to feel so possessive over him, that you were just something to make his marriage more bearable but you couldn't help but seek this out time after time.

He fucked you like each time would be the last, leaving you mewling and moaning over his cock. He thrust deeply inside of you, the walls of your pussy clamping around him tightly as he kept a hand on your shoulder. He fucked you from behind like you were a cheap prostitute, unwilling to look you in the eye and face the reality of his actions, but the words he spoke to you were anything but disrespectful. "So pretty taking my cock like this," he moaned out, his grip on your shoulder tightening as he thrust into you deeper, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. You clawed at the sheets, your face buried in a pillow as you moaned loudly.

The ring of a phone nearby interrupted your moans, your eyes widening a bit as Miguel picked it up. "Stay quiet for me, hm?" He whispered as you nodded, putting your hand against your mouth to hush down your whimpers. He answered the phone, maintaining a steady pace inside of you. "Hey Dana, how's it going?" He asked, letting out a sharp hiss as he felt your walls clamping around him tightly. He rolled his eyes as he heard Dana bitching about what he needed to do when he got home, his thrusts becoming unrelenting. "I'll pick up Gabriella tomorrow after school, it's not like you told me a thousand times already," he spoke up after she finished speaking, his balls slapping against your thighs. He let dana finish up talking, complaining about how tired she was to avoid any arguments. "Okay, te veo al rato. Chao."

As soon as he hung up the phone, he began to push his cock deeper and faster inside of you. "Since you were such a good girl for me, I'll let you cum," he whispered against your skin, his lips kissing on the top of your shoulder. You let out a moan in response, your hips moving to match his thrusts as you clamped around him. Your fingers moved to rub on your clit, rubbing it quickly to find that sweet release. Miguel put a foot up on the bed, providing him with just the right angle to hit your g-spot, your moans filling up his ears. You let out a moan as you clamped around him tightly, releasing your juices on his cock. You were surprised when he flipped you over, his head dipping down to capture your lips in a kiss. "You're too good for me."

He pushed your legs against your chest as he started to thrust inside you once more, letting out a moan as he bottomed out. He started off slow, but his thrusts were deep, making your breath catch in your throat. "Breathe," he whispered in your ear, kissing your neck softly. You nodded, starting to get your breathing back under control. You looked down at where his cock entered inside of you, your walls clamping around his cock tightly. He started to speed up, rutting inside of you deeply and quickly. His mouth attached itself to one of your breasts, his tongue circling around your areola. The feeling of having him inside of you and his tongue on your breasts was heavenly, his mouth knowing just how to rile you up.

His hands moved to your hips, gripping them tightly as he used you to his pleasure, treating you like his cocksleeve. "Just a hole for me to use, hm?" he said condescendingly, watching as you nodded mindlessly. His hands moved down to your clit, rubbing small circles on it as he pushed you closer to the precipice of your orgasm. "Mmph!" You moaned out, feeling his cock almost in your throat as the tip brushed against your cervix. One of the veins were brushing just against your g-spot, the ridge hitting you deliciously. You clamped tightly around him, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. You squirted on his cock, the clear liquid shooting up to his happy trail and soaking the bedsheets. You felt your vision blacking out from the sheer euphoria of the orgasm, overwhelmed by the bliss you felt. He thrusted in you one last time before he came inside you, letting his cock sit there for a couple seconds.

Miguel pulled out of you, pushing the cum back inside of you with his fingers, watching as you hissed a bit from the contact. "Don't tell me you're done yet, chiquita," he said with a small chuckle, his face in direct contact with your pussy. Your eyes widened as you looked down at him, seeing him lick his lips as saw his cum dribbling from your puffy folds. "I thought we were," you mumbled, hiding your face in your hands. He took your hands away, kissing you so tenderly and sweetly, the way a lover would. "We're just getting started. You can give me one more, hm? I just wanna see you squirt like that again," he replied, the tone in his voice soft despite the hungry look in his eyes.

His tongue quickly darted in your pussy when you gave him permission, his hands supporting you from below as he spread your legs open. He ran his tongue through your folds, getting the slick that was already dripping out of you. He pushed his tongue deep inside of you, licking at your walls and just taking the time to taste your essence. He spread your legs further apart when you tried to enclose them against his head, keeping a steady grip on your thighs as he continued to ravage you. His nose rubbed against your clit as he sucked, the tip hitting it in a steady rhythm as his lips sucked at everything you had to give him. "Que rica," he murmured, the vibrations sending a shiver running down your spine. One of his hands moved to rub your clit, rubbing small circles around the engorged bundle of nerves. You gripped his hair tightly as you felt yourself getting closer to the brink of orgasm, your toes curling as he continued with his ministrations. You let out a loud moan as the dam broke, your release completely coating his chin with your slick. (how tasty)

However, when Miguel had said one last time, he actually meant about five more times. You laid down on the bed, getting your breathing back in order as you turned around to face him. "Can you stay for a little while?" You asked, mentally preparing yourself for the rejection. "I was thinking of maybe staying the night if it's okay with you. I just have to get back to pick up Gabi tomorrow," he murmured, his fingers running down your hair as he kissed your cheek. Miguel had never spent the night before, he always found his way back home to Dana, where he belonged. "Sure, that's okay with me," you replied, snuggling closer against him as you let his body warmth engulf you. You two spent a couple more minutes in silence, coming down from your previous orgasms before he spoke up. "I think this might be the last time we see each other, chiquitina. Me and Dana might work things out." (little one)

You weren't sure why you felt so sad hearing his words, you knew that this wasn't going to last in the long term. That any plans of him choosing you over his wife were just a sick delusion you used to comfort yourself at night. The whole thing had started off when you started working at Alchemax as a lab assistant about five months ago. You were assigned to help Miguel, and even though he had some reservations at first, he quickly grew to like your work ethic and your efficiency. However, that wasn't the only thing he liked about you. He grew to like the way you looked at him, like he hung the moon every time he explained one of his theories to you and the way that you made him feel young again. He knew that other men at the lab were pining for you, not just for your looks, but also for how smart you were.

One day, you two had stayed late to work on inventory and start up on a research project. You two went inside the storage room with completely innocent intentions, just meaning to get the count of items checked. "Mierda, it won't open," he muttered, rattling the door knob once more. You watched as he struggled with the door, checking your phone to see that you didn't have any bars. "No connection either," you grumbled, slightly annoyed that you had to stay later than usual at the lab. The two of you started talking, hoping to pass by the time until a janitor came to open the door. One thing led to another and you were on Miguel’s lap, kissing like your lives depended on it.

"I shouldn't be doing this, i'm married," he mumbled, rubbing his temples as he pulled away from the kiss. even though his mouth was saying one thing, his cock was straining against his pants eager for some type of attention. "You think I haven't noticed the way you look at me, Dr. O’Hara? I won't tell if you don't," you whispered against his ear, your clothed pussy grinding against his cock. "Fuck," he breathed out, picking you up and pinning you against the wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist as his cock sheathed inside of you, taking you for the first time out of many.

After the two of you had taken a moment to compose yourselves, you got up from the bed and put on some pajamas. You grabbed the soiled bedsheets, putting them in the washing machine before walking back to your bedroom. You saw Miguel putting on a fresh pair of bedsheets, your eyes widening a bit at how natural he seemed in your space and how well he seemed to take to his surroundings. "I'm gonna shower, you can join me if you want," you spoke up after he finished setting the bed, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. You walked into the shower, setting it to the warmest setting and stripped off your clothes, stepping inside.

About ten minutes had passed when you came to the realization that Miguel wasn't coming to join you in the shower, that he'd lied about staying the night with you. You rested your head against the shower walls as tears rolled down from your face, unsure of why you felt so disappointed in his actions. You knew that this was going to eventually reach an end, but a part of you, a silly part of you, was clinging on to the hope that he'd realize how much better you could treat him than his wife and that he should pick you instead. You had felt a surge of guilt when the arrangement had first started, but it quickly died down when Miguel confided that Dana was cheating on him as well. You thought the whole thing was stupid, why they didn't just leave each other to pursue happiness but you didn't involve yourself in the arrangement. At first, you had fallen in love with the thrill, the thrill of getting caught and the excitement you felt whenever Miguel snuck into your house with the excuse of a work trip, but quickly realized you were falling in love with Miguel too.

You decided to text one of your friends to see if they wanted to hang out for a coffee tomorrow, needing something, anything, to get your mind off the longing in your heart for a man who was never yours. You chewed on your lip as you scrolled through your Instagram, seeing DMs from men who wanted a chance. You didn't know why you chose Miguel, maybe the fact that he was so forbidden was enticing you, the fact that he knew how to please you better than men your age also adding to the attraction. You placed your phone down when your friend confirmed for the coffee tomorrow, rubbing your temples. Your head was starting to hurt from the amount of crying you'd been doing, but the pain didn't compare to the loss you felt when Miguel said he wanted to fix things with his wife. Eventually, you managed to fall asleep, consoled by the multitude of stuffed animals on your bed.

The next morning, you took the opportunity to do some chores you'd been putting off before you had to head over to the coffee shop. As you cleaned out your closet, you realized that Miguel was also building a space in your apartment. You brought the shirts up to your nose, feeling a strange sense of relief at the comfort that his scent brought you. You couldn't help but hold them close to your chest as you recalled some of the memories, most of them bittersweet. You let out a small huff as you grabbed a box and started to fold his clothes, putting them in there. You left them tucked in the corner of your closet, not willing yourself to throw them away.

"Hey, sorry I’m late!" You told your friend as you arrived at the coffee shop, sitting down. "Hey, don't worry. I just got here too," your friend reassured you with a small smile, handing you the coffee they'd ordered for you. You thanked them and got into easy conversation about how work and how your love lives were going. As you listened to your friend recount what happened on their last bumble date, your eyes drifted over to see Dana standing at the counter waiting for her drink. You recognized her from previous Instagram stalking, and she looked even prettier in person. You tried to focus on what your friend was saying right in front of you, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy hit you in the gut.

Of course Miguel would choose to go back to her at the end of the day, she was more sophisticated and more fashionable than you were. You saw how her features relaxed when she smiled, the expression natural, and you couldn't help but feel insecure now that you were staring at her straight in the face. You'd never thought yourself as better than her, sure you felt some pity for her, but you saw her as superior to you. She gave Miguel the stability that he needed in his life, something you wouldn't be able to give him. Your eyes flickered to the man standing next to her, seeing how comfortable they seemed to be around each other without any fear of getting caught.

You returned your attention back to your friend when you felt Dana turn around, not wanting to get exposed in this coffee shop. As you sipped on your coffee, you couldn't help but feel that disappointment crawl back up to you when you took into account of how well Dana was dressed. "And how's your dating life?" Your friend asked, snapping you from your thoughts as you blinked. "Uh, so the older man I was telling you about actually just ended things with me," you replied with a small shrug, taking a sip from your coffee. You always described Miguel to your friends as a SINGLE older man, not wanting to see the silent judgement in their faces or hear about how you deserved to be more than just a side piece. You saw the way your friend's brows furrowed a bit as they listened to you recount the events. "I know this isn't what you wanna hear but I think it'll be good for you. You're always talking about how much he doesn't wanna commit," they remarked after you finished talking, their face full of pity.

After your friend left, you decided to stay at the coffee shop as you looked over at Dana. You wanted to leave, wanted to leave Miguel on the back door of your mind but you couldn't help but wonder what about Dana was so enticing. You were snapped out of your thoughts when Dana sat in front of you, her lips pursed and her arms folded. "You're the woman my husband's been fucking right?" She asked, completely surprising you with how direct she was. You instantly regretted staying at the coffee shop as you lifted your gaze from your coffee cup to meet hers. "I don't know what you're talking about," you mumbled, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

"I may be a lot of things but I’m not stupid, darling. And you're being stupid if you think Miguel really loves you. He's just with you for the excitement, for the thrill, and for how young and naive you are," she responded, her face completely neutral despite the situations. "I'm sorry. I never meant for it to get this far," you replied, feeling completely ashamed, wishing she would just start yelling at you or slap you. "Keep that in mind as this little fling keeps going on," she said, standing up and taking her purse in hand. You felt a tide of emotions hitting you all at once, you were expecting her to be more brutal with the way she handled that, but you weren't expecting her to be so calm with the idea. You kept her words in mind as you started to head back home, knowing she was right, but you didn't want to admit it to yourself just yet. You wanted to think that you were special to Miguel.

You managed to avoid Miguel for the next couple days at work, making yourself useful to a couple other of the research assistants there. On Friday, however, you were assigned to Miguel’s lab so you decided to head early to get started on your work. As you stepped inside the lab, the sight in front of you made your heart drop. One of the interns was batting her lashes at Miguel and twirling her hair, looking at him the same way you used to do. She was younger than you, her expression full of awe as he spoke. You went outside, locking yourself up in the storage closet as Dana's words ran through your head.

You felt stupid for thinking that you were something special to Miguel, for thinking that you might've meant something to else to him apart from easy pussy. You wiped the tears forming at the brim of your eyes, composing yourself up in the bathroom as you fixed your makeup. You looked over to see the intern talking with one of her friends, her cheeks rosy as she spoke. "Dude, he's such a dilf. I swear if it wasn't for that wedding ring on his finger, I'd totally jump him," she told her friend, little giggles escaping from her mouth as she talked. You felt the jealousy building up inside of you again, but you didn't do anything apart from grip your mascara tube tighter. You finished up fixing up your appearance, going back to looking presentable before walking over to the lab.

"Hey, how's it going?" Miguel asked, handing you a cup of coffee with a warm smile. You threw away the coffee in a sink nearby, tossing the cup in a bin as you got your lab coat from the drawer. "What do you need me to do today?" You asked, completely dodging his question and decided to maintain professional around him. You saw his eyes flicker around, seeing if someone else was in the room, as his expression softened up when he looked over at you again. "Is something wrong, chiquita?" He asked, lifting up your chin so you'd look at him. You averted eye contact as most as possible, but eventually ended up looking at him. "No, I'm just trying to remain professional here. What do you need me to do?" Your brisk tone surprised him, but he decided not to push his luck any further as he started to give you the debrief.

The beginning of the day was mostly spent in silence, only talking about how the graphs were looking like and what he needed for his experiments. You felt his gaze on you a couple times, but you were determined to keep this as professional as you could, especially after what you heard in the bathroom. The intern spent the afternoon around Miguel, filling up the silence with basic questions and making conversation. You gripped the flask tightly as you saw her batting her lashes at him again, pouring it into of the wrong mixes. Your eyes widened as you saw the reaction start up, the liquids combining to form a thick grey cloud. "Jeez, what a rookie mistake," the intern noted, letting out a teasing giggle as she looked over at Miguel. Miguel managed to get it under control but he pulled you aside to talk to you in the supply closet.

"You wanna tell me what that's about?" He asked, looking at you with a scowl on his face. You were used to seeing him make that face at everyone else, but you never pictured that you'd be on the receiving end. "I’m sorry, I just got distracted," you mumbled, hoping that he would drop the subject after that. He, however, did not drop the subject and instead grabbed your chin, looking at you sternly. "What distracted you so much?" He brushed a strand away from your face as he asked, his expression still cold. "The fact that I'm jealous, Miguel. And I know I have no right to be, but it hurts. It hurts seeing that intern flirt with you and not being able to do anything about it, okay? And I know we ended things, you don't have to remind me," you responded, hastily wiping away at the tears that were forming.

You sat down on the couch, spending the rest of the night watching Narcos as you ate ice cream. You thought that you were done with Miguel, but seeing someone else pursue him made you realize that you still wanted him as badly as you did the first day you met him. You didn't cry any more after you cried on the drive home, coming to the realization that you had just been delusional over this arrangement with Miguel. As you scrolled through your Instagram DMs, you saw a message from Miguel on your screen. You thought about ignoring him, but you decided to face the music.

Miguel: Can I come over, please?

[buckysgrace]

Seriously no pressure if this is too weird I get it 💀

Let’s say you’re friends with Billy and you’re both at this party and when you meet up later he’s shirtless, horny, drunk and wearing eyeliner and a fuzzy leopard coat (you have no idea how he got like this but it’s so hot). You end up in his tight tiny Camaro backseat, door open, his legs hanging out as you let him do whatever he wants to you right there with people walking by.

I literally cannot get that image of him out of my head! Like Dacre in drag, I don’t know 🫠 (Then I wake up to Joe in a blonde wig 😂)

Not weird at all!! He would look so hot dressed up like that (goooosh joe in a blonde wig too?? whew)

CW: Unprotected drunken sex, some degradation, blow jobs

Billy was a wild card when he was drunk. You never knew what to expect, or what he might do. He certainly became more boisterous, touchy and wild. You knew why, but he never liked to talk about that either.

You didn't really enjoy parties, but you did whatever Billy wanted to do. You usually expected for him to lose you in the crowd, but he kept a tight grip on you wherever he went. Like he wanted you near him. Or perhaps that was wishful thinking on your part.

"What are you wearing?" You giggled as he approached once again, his shirt long gone and replaced with a fuzzy leopard coat. You blinked your eyes a few times, squinting to confirm that he had black smudges around his eyes.

"Found this upstairs," He explained with a lazy grin, his blue eyes filled with amusement as he leaned forward, "Why?"

"You look silly." You responded, raising your eyebrows again as you looked him over. You shook your head, trying to figure out where he had tossed his shirt.

"Just silly?" He questioned as he bumped his shoulder into yours, stumbling a little bit. You could still feel the alcohol buzzing in your veins, so you couldn't imagine how he felt at the moment. He could drink you under a table, that was for sure.

"Handsome," You said slowly as you pressed your fingers against his bare chest softly, feeling just how hot his flesh was against yours, "Did you steal that?"

"Is it stealing if I'm returning it?" He snorted as he rested his arm over your shoulder, holding you close as you both made your way down to his parking spot.

"When are you planning on doing that?" You continued to tease him, enjoying his musk that rolled off towards you. You liked how he always smelt like his strong cologne, as if he bathed in it.

"Soon," He teased as he dragged his fingers across your shoulder softly, "I saw you watching me earlier." He replied a second later, taking you by surprise.

"You were loud," You said in defense of yourself, "Hard not to watch." You said honestly, furrowing your eyebrows tightly together.

"You sure that's the only reason?" He asked, sounding a little cocky as he came to a halt against his car. The paint was slightly warm from where it had been sitting out in the sun earlier.

"Yes." You said a second later, suddenly aware of how close he was. His eyes twinkled, like he knew something that you didn't.

"Look at me," He mumbled as he gripped your chin, "You're pretty, you know that?" You felt yourself relaxing against his touch, soaking in his strong hands against your skin.

"I guess I do now," You replied with a soft smile, "You're pretty too." You told him honestly. He had thick eyelashes, a button nose and strong cheekbones. He really was handsome. Anyone could see that.

He was suddenly real close, near enough that you could smell the cheap beer and strong cigarettes from his tongue. It made your heart hammer a little harder in your chest but you didn't back down. You stayed put, continuing to stare at him as you tried to figure out his challenge.

"You have a pretty mouth," He mumbled as he moved his fingers closer towards your mouth, "I like your lips." He said at last, his eyes glued in that direction as your mind suddenly felt jumbled.

"Oh," You mumbled, your heart racing as you tried to make sense of what he was saying, "Thank you. You have-, You have pretty lips too." You said in response, mentally kicking yourself at how bad that sounded. His lips curled into a soft smirk, like he was still flattered.

"Yeah?" He replied in a cocky manner as he popped the front door open and sat on the seat. You were about to protest, sure that he shouldn't be driving, "I bet you'd look even prettier on your knees."

"Excuse me?" You asked, blinking quickly as you moved your hands onto your hips. You were sure that you had heard him wrong. He had never been this forward before.

"You heard me," He said with a smirk, "Wanna see how you look on your knees. C'mon. Nothing wrong with that." He shrugged his shoulders, his gaze unwavering as he stared up towards you this time.

You debated his suggestion for a long time, before ultimately deciding that it was all in good fun. He was teasing you. It was what he did. There was no problem in entertaining him just a little bit. It was all in good fun.

"Happy?" You asked as you rested your hands on your knees, staring up towards him. His eyes were hooded, the blue a little darker than usual. He moved his hands forward, cupping your jaw once again. You lingered in his touch, trying to pretend that it didn't feel that good.

"Almost," He replied as he traced his thumb across your lips, "I wonder how your mouth feels around my cock." His words sent pleasure through your body, made your clit tingle as you anticipated his next move.

"You wanna feel my mouth?" You asked him softly as you moved your hands up towards his thighs slowly, "You sure?" You questioned him, watching the way his eyes filled with lust and hunger.

"'Course I am," He smirked as he traced your lips again, pausing before he sat up a bit to unbutton his tight jeans. You watched in interest, staring at the bulge that formed in his pants, "You're not gonna be a bitch about it, are you?"

"No," You whispered softly, feeling desire rushing through your chest as you stared at him. You'd wanted him for a long time now, unsure if he really knew that or not. You exhaled deeply, heart hammering as he pulled his hard cock from his jeans, "Oh, wow." You replied, taken aback by your own words as you stared at his thick girth and long length.

You moved your hand to him slowly, wrapping your fingers around his girth softly and earning a groan from him. You languidly stroked him in your hand, squeezing softly towards his base as sweet sounds fell from his tongue.

You rubbed your thumb across his slit, spreading his precum down the length of his cock as you continued to tug on his cock. You liked the way he watched you, how he wanted you to look right up at him the whole time. It gave you a burst of confidence, made you feel powerful even though you were on your knees.

You pressed a gentle kiss against his fat, red tip as a rough exhale left his lips. You did your best to hide your smirk, flattered with how much he was enjoying the feeling of you. You licked away his precum, breathing in his musk before you slid him into your mouth.

"Jesus," He groaned as he pressed against the back of your neck, his fingertips digging into your skin as you stretched your lips around his big girth. You relaxed your jaw, rolling your tongue underneath the base of his cock to get yourself fully comfortable, "Such a good little whore. Look at you, so easy. Just for me."

His words left a tingly feeling through your body, your mind fuzzy as you slowly began to move your head along the length of his cock. You gripped one hand at his base, using the other to squeeze his balls as your spit soon coated where your hands were.

You gagged a little too hard as he thrusted up, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and making your eyes flutter. You rolled your tongue around his girth slowly, blinking the tears from your eyes as the taste and smell of him became overwhelming.

He groaned, tapping at the side of your cheek to draw your attention up towards his blue eyes. He looked pretty with his dark eyebrows furrowed together; his red lips parted as grunts continued to fall from his tongue.

His fingers pressed against the curve of your throat, exploring your smooth skin as you continued to savor the sensation of his heavy cock against your tongue. It was all over with too quickly, leaving you desperate for more of him.

He pulled you away from his cock, giving your lips a much needed break as he dragged you up towards him. You straddled him awkwardly, doing your best to fit in the car as he crashed his lips against yours.

He kissed you deeply, messily as he licked away the drool and precum from your mouth. It made you moan, made you grind your hips down against him for some much needed relief. You wanted him. You wanted him more than you'd ever wanted anyone before.

He looked up at you, eyes bright like the stars as you ran your fingers through his hair gently. Your lipstick hard smeared against his lips, spreading onto his cheeks from how passionate and fervent you'd been kissing.

"Billy," You moaned as he kissed the corner of your lips, making your body curl as he brought his strong hands up against your boobs, "I want you so badly. Please."

"Mhm," He grinned against your mouth, exhaling roughly as he rubbed at your hips, "You wanna ride my cock? Right out here, like a little whore?"

"Your whore," You moaned, feeling his cock twitch against your inner thigh, "Please." You begged him, needing to feel something. He wasted in time as he roughly tugged your skirt up over your hips, then messily slid your panties aside.

"Pretty," He whispered as he dragged his thick fingers against your wet folds, making you croon in response, "She's all wet for me." He said with a laugh, his eyes hazy as he watched you.

His gaze was so intense that you nearly turned away from him, unable to handle the fierce look that they held. You gulped softly, rocking your hips forward to distract him. You needed him.

"Nasty little slut," He tsked as he slid the tip of his cock against your wet hole. He watched you, keeping eye contact as he slowly slid his tip inside of your weeping cunt, "Such a good girl, taking me so well."

He pulled you forward, keeping his strong arms around your waist as he slid you further down along the curve of his cock. You gasped at the sensation, your walls stretching around his thick girth as he slowly filled you.

"See," He breathed out huskily, making you whimper at the tight way he gripped your hips, "You can take it. Doing so good for me, such a good little slut." He mumbled as his lips ghosted against the side of your neck.

You stayed there for a moment; his cock filled deep inside of you as your stomach twisted in pleasure. You could feel it spreading up your spine, down towards your toes. It was white hot, making you press yourself harder against him.

"Oh God," You whined as you leaned back a little bit, gripping his knees to stay balanced as he began to drag you along the curve of his cock, "Jesus, Billy." You moaned, feeling a fresh wave of pleasure rush through your body.

You could feel him throbbing inside of your walls, every curve and vein brushing against your sensitive cunt as he brought his thumb down against your clit. He pressed onto the sensitive bud, making you cry out a little louder as your cunt dripped around him.

"Mhm," He groaned as he continued to drag his mouth against your skin, his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck gently, "You sound so pretty on my cock. Gonna let everyone know whose making you feel this good, yeah?" He huffed, grunting as he admired the way your pussy hugged his thick girth.

The thought of anyone catching you two should be horrifying, but it left you with a new intense feeling as you began to rock your hips forward a little harder. Your moaned grew louder as the tip of his cock pressed deep against your spongy walls, hitting the sensitive spot you so desperately needed.

"Yeah, yeah," You breathed out rapidly, your mind focusing on how much deeper he seemed to go every time you inhaled, "Jesus, you feel so good. God." You began to whine, your thighs trembling at the way he continued to rub at your clit.

Your bodies moved in unison, rocking against one another and savoring the feeling as he used his free hand to squeeze at your hip. His fingertips dug into your skin, sure to leave marks as he continued to rock you along the length of his cock.

His groans were heavenly, better than any song you'd ever heard on the radio as the sound of your flesh meeting his began to fill the little cramped space. You could feel the lust inside of you growing, the pleasure spreading as your muscles twisted in anticipation.

"Fuck, fuck," He groaned as he pulled you closer, eyes even darker from the eyeliner around his eyelids, "S'good for me, baby. That's it. Cum all over my cock." He reassured you, guiding you through your impending high.

It crashed into you at once, making your toes curl in your shoes as you gripped a hold of his shoulders tightly. You pressed your lips together, trying to keep your moans at bay but unable to do so. It all felt so good, made your body shake and eyes roll into the back of your head.

"Billy," You whined as your fingertips began to thread through the fuzzy jacket, gripping onto anything as his thrusts became rougher and deeper, "Oh my God, yes." You spit out, your tongue numb and thoughts fuzzy.

He huffed, eyebrows knitting tightly together as his cock filled you to the brim. You moaned at the sensation, burying your face into the crook of his neck as a rush of curses left his tongue.

You gasped as you felt his warm spunk filling your walls, coating your pussy with part of him as he began to claw at your flesh. It was depraved, so sinful and glorious all at once.

He nudged his nose against your cheek softly, mumbling something that you didn't quite catch as you tried to collect yourself from your orgasm. Your ears still felt like they were ringing, your lungs strained and body warm.

"What?" You asked, shaking your head softly as you blinked in confusion at him. His lips were still smeared from your lipstick, his eyes messy from the sweat that had collected from his forehead. He looked handsome, very handsome.

"Nothing," He said instead, eyes drifting over your features as your heart began to hammer roughly inside of your chest once again, "It was nothing important." He reasoned, leaving you nodding your head slowly as you wondered how things would ever go back to normal.

[silencesscreams]

love is never logical

james potter x reader (angst)

summary: you have been james’ girlfriend for more than a year, his close relationship with his friend lily has always bothered you because he would always pick her instead of you. once you find out they almost dated when they were younger, things change.

100% inspired by logical - olivia rodrigo, the beginning of the fight was inspired by the all too well short film (it was also lari’s idea because she’s a genius)

warnings: muggle au, drinking, swearing, jealousy, breaking up, fighting, shouting, mentions of younger jily, petnames (babe, love, darling), use of y/n once, mention of sex, kind of short, sad ending

special thanks to @mrsaluado for helping me and giving me ideas for this one!!!!! you’re incredible, lari!!!!

when you first started dating james, the first friend he introduced you to was lily. he said she was one of his best friends and that she was incredibly important for him. it was almost as if he said: don’t fuck it up with her. afterwards he said she absolutely loved you, it made you feel great about yourself, but a part of you wondered what would happen if she didn’t.

there were times when you’d ask if he wanted to hang out or do something different during the weekend. most times you were too late, and he was already doing something with lily, but you could come if you wanted to. you always did. you wanted to be with your boyfriend, it shouldn’t matter that his best friend was always around, right?

you even asked him once or twice if he ever had anything with lily, which he defensively denied every single time. most of your friends saw it as a red flag, but what could you do? you had never loved anyone like you loved james potter.

until it all fell apart.

you both had been together for a year. you were always invited to his reunions with his friends, so when he told you he was hosting a small one at his place, you were excited to go. you helped him get the house ready. you even bought appetizers.

so when his friends showed up, you tried talking to most of them, but when you got to sirius, you both ended up talking a lot.

you both had been chatting for about half an hour when he asked:

“where’s that boyfriend of yours anyway?” he took a sip from the cheap wine remus had brought.

“with lily, i think.” you say, looking down at your cup.

“really? doesn’t it bother you?” he asked innocently, like you already knew.

“no, i mean, why would it?”

“well, i’d be stressed knowing remus was so close with someone he almost dated like two years back” he casually stated. your heart could’ve just fallen to your feet then, he never told you that. sirius quickly realized he’d fucked up because of how quiet you suddenly were. “you didn’t know?” he questioned, his brows furrowed and his voice more caring now.

“oh, i did, don’t worry.” you lied, your voice quiet.

god, you felt so stupid. you had asked so many times, and he lied, he always said no.

you never thought james could hurt you like that, until he did.

“that reminds me, i have to talk to james about what time we’re putting out the dessert. i’ll be back soon.” you didn’t have to talk to him about anything. you knew that you’d bring out the dessert at 10:30. you just wanted to know what they were talking about.

“hi, babe.” he greeted you, pressing a kiss on your cheek as you sat next to him. “my two girls at the same table, how lucky am i?” he joked, but you didn’t laugh. since when was lily his girl? “sorry, that was badly phrased.” he apologized to you, chuckling and going back to lily, not bothering to insert you in the conversation.

you didn’t really mind staying quiet, he usually did that. they talked for about 10 minutes, during that time stayed quiet and didn’t even touch him, you listened to their conversation, smiling every single time she looked at you.

the night ended for you when he didn’t hold your hand. as he excitedly laughed and talked to her, you tried to interlace his fingers with yours, which he did, giving your hand a quick squeeze before letting go of it and laying it carelessly on the table.

you take a deep breath.

you count to ten.

you hold back your tears.

he had never denied your touch before. ever.

“excuse me,” you said lowly. “i’m going to go freshen up.” you fake a smile, going as quickly as possible to the bathroom. you shut the door behind you and lock it, giving the key two turns.

you can’t believe him. he couldn’t possibly be doing this to you.

you had known ever since he introduced you to her that if he had to choose it’d be her. you knew that deep down, you just didn’t believe it.

you couldn’t believe he lied like that.

he made you believe it was in your head. everything he ever said just always sounded right. how could he do that?

you weren’t going to fight. not in the middle of a party.

you look at yourself in the mirror,

inhale, exhale.

inhale, exhale.

it was fine. you’d talk to him about it later. it was probably a misunderstanding, right? you probably heard him wrong, right?

still, you took it in and kept quiet until everybody left.

james had obviously realized how mad you were when you dodged his hug in the kitchen.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, looking all sad and lonely like a wet dog. like it was your fault.

“you dropped my hand, you know that, right?” you stop and look at him, your hands hugging your own torso nervously.

“what? when?”

“when you were talking to lily.” you say, looking down.

“sorry, i don’t really remember.” he casually brushes it off. he did remember.

“did you and her ever have a thing? tell me the truth, did you ever like her romantically or anything like that?”

“god, no! why are you bringing this up again? i’ve told you before, she’s just my friend, why are you-”

“you’re lying to me.” you cut him off, staring at him.

“no, i’m not. what’s gotten into you?” he squints his eyes at you.

“why are you lying? i know you both had a thing a year before we started dating!” you didn’t want to speak loudly, but you couldn’t not raise your voice at him.

“who told you that?” he questioned quietly.

“it doesn’t matter! why did you lie to me about this?” he didn’t answer. “god, i’m so fucking stupid!” you exclaim, laughing at yourself.

“darling, stop. it’s not like that.”

“i should’ve known something was happening. you spent more time with her than with me ever since i became your girlfriend.”

“i didn’t cheat on you, you have to believe me” he tried holding your face in his hands. his touch was inviting, but you pulled away.

“but you love her, don’t you?” he doesn’t answer. “how can i possibly believe you?” you ask, your eyes tearing up. you were trying to hold back the tears, but they were just begging to come out.

“i don’t know. i just need you to trust me, love. please.”

“i don’t know if i can.” you turn around, facing the refrigerator door. you rub your eyes, stressed.

“hey, james.” you call, not turning around to face him.

“yeah?” he answers, staring at your back, a confused look on his face.

“what color are lily’s eyes?” he wanted to bury himself in a hole and never come out. he knew what you were doing and he knew he’d fail.

“i don’t see how that-”

“james, what color are they?”

“green.” he replies, his voice low.

“what color are my eyes?” no answer. you can feel your stomach twist and turn. “james, what color are my eyes?” your voice was louder now.

“i don’t know.” he whispers. you started crying, and he never hated himself so much. you turn around to face him, your head moving in a ‘no’ motion as he tried hugging you. “darling, please. you’re the love of my life, stop it.”

“sure, and you’ve only ever seen her as a friend, right?!” you push him away. “i’m the love of your life and you can’t even tell me my eye color! that’s not fucking right, isn’t it?!”

“you know how much i love you!” he shouts, desperately trying to fix it.

“do i? because you never even say it anymore! hell, you don’t even hold my hand!” you shout back at him. he can’t answer you, he doesn’t know how to. he doesn’t know what to do anymore. “i’m going home.” you announce, grabbing your purse from the kitchen table and heading to his front door.

you didn’t want to leave, but you knew that if you stayed he’d probably find a way to make you believe him. he’d hug you. he’d say he was sorry and that everything would turn out okay.

that wasn’t what you wanted to hear that night, you weren’t really sure of what it was you wanted from him in that moment, but some stupid apology and sex wasn’t going to help.

“i have been your boyfriend for the past year! I haven’t been lily’s!” he exclaimed, following you. you ignored him, cleaning your tears from off your face

“you’re not being fucking logical about this, y/n!” he screamed at you, his voice strained as you open the door to his apartment.

“i guess love isn’t logical, is it?” you say, shutting the door harshly as you head out.

you stop in front of the door, waiting to see if he’d open it and try going after you. if he’d try to make you forgive him.

you waited for a minute.

he didn’t do anything at all.

[cowgurrrl]

Sleeping on the Blacktop

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: guys we did it i wrote smut i actually like (ps this was edited but also not reread because I’ve been trying to write it for five hours so if you see any mistakes no you didn’t)

Summary: The Land of No Return [4.7k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, platonic expressions of love, the mortifying ordeal of being known, sexting, we finally get to know about reader's secret tattoos, smut, Joel the Menace makes his long awaited return with that dirty fucking mouth, mutual masturbation, phone sex (??(sure)), protected sex (no Miller babies for them) p in v stuff, June being indulgent with describing Joel Miller, anxiety, I think that's it??

Music floods the kitchen as you and Andie work on making the best "last supper but with women" possible. The lamps glow orange on the walls and create funny shadows when you dance together, pulling each other in and out to old jazzy tunes. You laugh when she throws a string of spaghetti at your fridge to test if it's ready a little too hard, and it splatters water everywhere. You, honestly, might be a little delirious. You're both in your pajamas, and you've been watching movies all day. You exchange what you remember from New Year's Eve and cringe at what the other fills in. You drink cheap wine from plastic cups and snack on chips as the food cooks. 

It feels like high school again, with all the girlish giggling and inside jokes you trade back and forth, except this time, instead of her going back to her house ten minutes up the road, she's going back to her apartment half the world away. No matter how long you get with her, it's never enough. Thousands of miles and different schedules will do that. Keeping long-distance friendships as an adult is just as hard, if not harder, than making new ones. 

When dinner is ready, you fix your plates and sit next to each other at your messy dining room table— the IKEA one she helped you build when Henry walked out with the first one— and eat. Paint stains the wood of the table, and half-finished works are scattered around the dining room, but you barely notice them as you talk. She tells you about the things waiting for her in Vienna: work, her cat, Oslo, and piano lessons. You don't have to pretend to be envious because you are. You have to go back to school and the Real World once you drop her off at the airport in the morning. You wish you could go with her. 

"Alright, c'mon. Spill it. What's going on with you and Joel?" She asks in between bites of garlic bread. You laugh and shake your head.

"There's nothing to tell."

"Bullshit. Tommy told me he saw you guys."

"Speaking of Tommy," you pivot. "What's going on there? You two seemed pretty chummy." You raise your eyebrows at her, and a big smile takes over her face. She takes another bite of food to buy herself some time, but there's no way you're letting her off the hook, especially after all her teasing about Joel.

"Nothing. We were just… talking." She finally says, and you give her a look. 

"Talking?"

"Yes. People talk. You should try it sometime."

"Was it talking like we are now or talking like Joel and I talked?" You hum, and she kicks her feet as she leans forward.

"So you and Joel did talk." 

"Well, we probably would've if somebody didn't come barging in."

"Goddammit, I told him to wait," she groans. "Sorry, girl."

"Yeah, me too," you say, and she laughs. You bump her knee and give her a look. "Alright, your turn. What's going on with Tommy?" 

"Nothing that could actually turn into anything." 

"Aw, c'mon. Don't count yourself out so early."

"It's not counting myself out. It's being realistic. I live in Vienna. He lives here. I'm not ready to come back to the States, and he seems content, so there's nothing that can happen," she shrugs. "It was a fling. A very nice fling, but a fling nevertheless." She seems a little too sad for it to have been just a fling. They exchanged numbers, and you've caught her texting him several times. She said she did kiss him on New Year's Eve (before she threw up), but they didn't go any further besides flirting the next morning. You watched them test each other at breakfast, and he seemed just as interested in her as she was in him. They'd be cute together. She sighs and pushes her pasta around in her bowl like a dejected character from a period piece.

"Tommy is very handsome." You comment, and she grabs your arm, animating all of a sudden. 

"Dude, I've been dying to talk about it. What the fuck are they putting in the water here? It's insane." 

"It's annoying, right?" 

"So annoying." She agrees. You laugh about it together and, finally, give her the details she's been waiting so patiently for. When you finish your story, her hands are over her mouth, and her eyes are wide. "Oh, my God. You have to get him back."

"I know, I know! He's driving me up a fucking wall." You say, taking a bite of food. It will get cold if you don't stop talking, but you also don't care. 

"You could surprise him with some lingerie or something." She suggests, and you groan. 

"God, I don't even remember the last time I bought lingerie."

"All the more reason to buy some." 

"I don't know. I feel like I could just show up naked, and he'd be happy with that."

"He sounds like a keeper then."

"Yeah, I don't know," you shrug. "I like him a lot. I just… don't know if it's sustainable."

"Why?" She asks. You almost want to gesture around your messy apartment and half-put together life as if it will answer her question.

"I mean, he's a good guy, and we're having fun, but for how long? His kid's gonna be in at least one of my classes until she graduates. Not to mention, he has another daughter who is in medical school. We both work full-time. And then there's the whole having to keep it a secret thing. It could get really old really fast." You sigh. 

"What if it doesn't?"

"What?"

"What if it doesn't get old? What if it ends up working out?" She asks. You take a deep breath. "You didn't even think about that possibility. Did you?"

"I just don't wanna get hurt."

"That's a very real possibility. Things could go wrong. He could break your heart. You could lose your job. Society as we know it could come crashing down, and you know what? The sun's still gonna come up the next day. The birds will still sing, and I will still be here," she says, putting her hand over yours. You purse your lips as you process her words. "You deserve nice things, kid. Don't count yourself out so early." She echoes your earlier sentiment, and you smile.

She's right. Of course, she's right. You don't let yourself think good things could happen because you're so focused on all the bad. She's known you for so long she can read your thoughts and know your habits before you can. What a horrifying and beautiful thing it is to be known inside and out like that. 

"Maybe you should've been a writer instead of a musician," you say, and she laughs. You squeeze her hand and sigh as you look at her. "I'm really gonna miss you."

"I'm really gonna miss you, too."

"I wish you could stay."

"I know," she says. "But you need an excuse to come to Vienna, and I need an excuse to come to Austin, and if I stay, we lose that."

"I guess that's true."

"Besides, if I stop making trans-Atlantic calls, I think my phone company would be concerned." She points out, making you laugh. You know she's telling you what she's told herself this whole time. She loves Vienna, but you know she gets homesick. You know she's trying really hard to convince herself to get back on that plane. You don't push her about staying again. You just indulge in her presence. 

"I love you." You say softly, and she smiles.

"I love you, too." She says. 

It means so much more than just "I love you." It means, "I love you, and I want us both to eat well." It means, "I love you, and I can't imagine doing this life without you." It means, "I love you, and I know you have to go." Never any buts. Always ands, because love like this knows no bounds. Not borders, not time zones, not lifestyles. 

You finish the dinner you made and clean the kitchen side by side before climbing into bed and staying up as late as possible to try and get Andie back on Vienna time. In the morning, you drag yourselves out of bed and sing in the car on the way to get coffee, and when the time comes for you to get her suitcase out of your backseat and watch her disappear behind glass doors, you hug her tight and tell her you love her again. She repeats the sentiment with another squeeze and deep breath that tells you how close to tears she is. Then, she turns around and doesn't look back to prove she's strong enough to leave. She doesn't need to prove anything to you. You always knew she was strong enough to do this.

The car ride back is emotional and lonely and tinged with the bass line of Ribs by Lorde, but your phone buzzes as you pull back into your apartment complex with tears staining your cheeks. 

Thanks for letting us meet Andie. She's a really sweet person. I'm sorry she has to leave today.

You don't remember telling him what day she was leaving, but she might've told Tommy, and Tommy told Joel. You smile and text him back. 

Thanks for taking care of us. She only had good things to say about you and Tommy. We'll have to all hang out again the next time she's home. 

And then.

Thanks for checking on me. I really appreciate it. 

Of course. I'm always a wreck when I have to drop Sarah off at the airport. I'm around if you wanna talk. Ellie's hanging out with some friends, and Tommy's on-site today.

You stare at the messages and debate your options. He basically just told you he's home alone and has nothing to do for the rest of the day. And yes, he is probably being sweet and really offering to talk if you're feeling lonely, but you also know how talking usually goes for you two. You smirk as you type out a message.

Just talk?

It seems like he can't type fast enough.

What else would you wanna do?

I think you made some promises you need to follow through on, Miller.

I guess I did. 

Come over and I can do just that.

Actually, I have some work to get done :( maybe next time?

You lock your phone and bound up to your apartment, conscious of the sudden lengthening of time between messages. It's fun to imagine him trying to come up with a response that respects your boundaries but also lets you know how needy he is. He may have started this little game, but you're gonna be the one to perfect it. Thus begins the days upon days of not sexting, but not not sexting. 

At first, it's just messages about how you miss him and wish he was around. He tries to find an excuse to come over, but you effectively cockblock him at every turn. Your response times get a little slower the more worked up he gets, so he has to figure it out on his own. You never would've thought Joel Miller, a man with gray in his beard and wrinkles lining his face, could be such a fast texter, but you figure there's nothing more desperate than a horny man. 

Messages quickly escalate to pictures. They start off innocent enough: a picture of the painting you're working on, but your bare legs give away the fact that you're not wearing pants, a picture of him stepping out of a hot shower, his bare chest slightly red and glistening from the water, a picture of you wearing the burnt orange shirt he sent you home in New Year's Day with no bra on underneath. Then, you get a little bolder. After a quick trip to the mall, you pose in front of the mirror in a short delicate white night down with pretty lace details on the top, the hem barely hitting the tops of your thighs and showing off the large tattoos hiding there. You look hot, and imagining Joel's reaction to you makes you flush and rub your thighs together to get some relief.

It's true that Joel would've been happy if you showed up to his house wearing (or not wearing) anything, but when the photo pings to his phone, he's never been more grateful for Victoria's Secret in his life. His breath hitches in his throat, and he quickly tucks his phone into his chest like someone is gonna come up behind him and see what he's looking at. He's barely glanced at the photo and he's already straining in his jeans. 

Goddamn, he texts back. You're so fucking pretty, baby.

You like it?

It's a dumb question, but you really don't care.

It's perfect.

What do you like about it?

Besides the fact that you're the one wearing it? I like that it makes you look like more of an angel than you already are, and I like that I can finally see those tattoos you've been hiding from me. 

Bingo, you think to yourself. He was able to catch glimpses of the large pieces hiding on your back and shoulders at the art gallery, and when he picked up on New Year's Eve, you caught him staring at them each time. You thought he was following the inky lines up your body, but you couldn't be sure. Now, he's giving himself away, and you're practically buzzing with excitement.

You turn around in the mirror and arch your back, perfectly showing off your ass and the intricate tattoo lining your spine, and snap a picture. It's one of the largest ones you have, and it's also the easiest to hide. Besides, you definitely didn't get it for your own enjoyment. You live for moments like this. You send him the picture and smile as you type.

Like this one?

Your phone rings not even two minutes after he reads the message. You giggle when he groans into the receiver instead of greeting you.

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me, baby." He says, his voice so deep you can practically feel it rumble against your ear.

"I told you I'd get you back." You say it like it's obvious, but he just hums. There's shuffling on his end, and all you can do is wait for him to say something else.

"What else have you been hidin' underneath all those little dresses, hm?" He asks. "Tattoos. The most fuckin' perfect tits I've ever seen. Anythin' else I should know bout? 'S your pussy as pretty as the rest of ya?" You didn't mean for him to hear you gasp, but he seemed pleased that he could pull such a sound from you without even being in the same room. Just like that, any doubt or reservation you had left flies out the window. You finally cave and slip your hand down your panties to glide your fingers through your folds. "Am I makin' you wet, sweetheart?"

"Fuck," you mumble. It's absurd how turned on you are by this whole thing. Your fingers slowly circle your clit, and your head gets so fuzzy you almost forget to respond to him. "Yes, Joel." 

"Are you playin' with yourself?" He asks, and you nod even though he can't see you. "Poor thing. I wish I could be there to help ya. I'd have you spread open for me so I can touch you however I want. Figure out what you like and what makes you cry for me." You put him on speaker and throw your phone down so you can focus on gliding through your wetness, your middle finger pushing into you slowly.

"What... what would you do?" You ask, breathless. 

"I'd start by usin' my fingers just to feel you out, and I bet you'd feel so fuckin' good. I'd play with your clit until you're beggin' me to put a finger inside you, and I'd slip two in slowly while kissin' your inner thighs and watchin' you squeeze my fingers," you moan as you listen to his raspy voice and fuck yourself to his words. You try to imagine what his fingers would feel like inside of you. How different compared to yours, how much better they'd feel. Goddammit. "Then, I'd use my mouth on you while my fingers move in and out. I'd lick you all over and feel you soakin' me when I suck on your clit." He says, and you return to rubbing said bundle of nerves, faster this time, as you become acutely aware of his labored breathing over the phone. 

Is he touching himself? The idea of him holding the phone with one hand and fisting his cock with the other sends a wave of heat down your spine, and you keen into your own hand. A shaky breath and muttered curse leave his lips, and then you know for sure what he's doing. Your head spins, and you'd be embarrassed by how close you are just from his voice if you weren't entirely focused on the pleasure clouding your brain. 

"Fuck, Joel-"

"I know, baby, I know," he coos sympathetically. Another lewd moan leaves you as you get closer and closer to the edge, stars threatening the corners of your vision. "Are you gonna come for me like this?" He asks, and you hum in the affirmative, not trusting yourself to form words. "Come on. Let me hear you. I wanna hear what you sound like when you fall apart." His voice is coming faster and breathier, a light growl at the end of his words. How are you to deny him that? 

The speed of your fingers on your clit increases, but it's his own broken whimpers that finally do it. Your back arches as the waves wash over you, and noises you didn't even know you could make escape your lips. You can vaguely hear a broken sigh accentuated by a particularly hot whine from Joel's end. Henry was never as vocal or talkative as Joel is. None of your past partners have been. In the aftershocks of your orgasm, you have a quick passing thought that he might ruin dating for you. You might never want to see anyone else who doesn't treat you like this. You might be fucked.

"Joel," you say when you have control over your thoughts again. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat.

"Yeah?"

"Get the fuck over here now."

Joel's house is on the other side of Austin. With traffic, getting to your apartment can take anywhere from twenty to forty-five minutes, depending on how fast you're willing to go and how many red lights you can pass under. Joel gets there in fifteen. You're still in the flouncy dress you bought specifically to torture him, but by the time you open the door for him, you're much less interested in making his life any more miserable than you already have over the past week. 

He doesn't hesitate to charge into your apartment, grab your face, and kiss you like his life depends on it. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, and you open to him, clinging to him as his hands move from your face to the backs of your thighs to pick you up. You squeal in surprise and lock your legs around his waist to bring him closer and keep yourself from falling. Even though he obviously came over the phone at the same time you did, he's hard again and pressing against your bare pussy. He hisses when you grind against him, and his jaw clenches as he pulls away like he's in pain.

"Where's your bedroom?" He asks, wide eyes searching the hallway behind you.

"First door on the left." You say as you duck your head to kiss his neck. He sighs and indulges in the feeling of your tongue against his skin before he finally finds his feet and stumbles into your bedroom. You're halfway through marking him before he lays you down and immediately rucks his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart and making you whine. 

"You okay?" He asks, stopping all movement to scan over your face for any signs of discomfort. You nod and reach for the buttons of his jeans.

"Yes. Just need you." You say. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Joel, I just came from the sound of your voice. Yes, I'm fucking sure." You say, a little frenzied as you pull at the hem of his shirt. He laughs as he pulls it over his head and quickly unzips his jeans. 

"Feisty." 

"Can you blame me?" You ask, and he shakes his head. He tugs his jeans and his briefs down at the same time and unveils all of him to you in one go. He's beautiful. You knew he would be, but seeing the graying chest hairs and the pretty happy trail leading down to his hard cock in between his strong, tan thighs is an entirely different thing. You reach for him, desperate to feel the weight of him in your hands, but he stops you by slipping the tiny straps of your night gown down your arms. 

He carefully pulls the fabric down your body until it's pooled next to his clothes on the floor. His eyes fall to the black lines wrapping around your shoulders, and he draws his eyes to your collarbones and sternum, his breathing stuttering at the sight of you laid out under him. 

"So much prettier than I imagined." He murmurs as he ducks his head to kiss the valley between your breasts. You smile and run your hands through his curls as he mouths at your chest, leaving red marks in his wake and making you press him closer.

"How many times have you thought about this?" You ask. Has he always wanted you in the way you've wanted him? You're almost positive he has. There's no other way to explain the reverence with which he's looking at you. He's so wrapped up in you it's almost suffocating. Every time you glance at his face, he's staring at you with soft eyes and blown pupils. 

"Lost count." There it is. The confirmation. You grab at his ribs to bring him closer, pulling him over you to kiss him slow and deep. Despite the heat of him against you and the ache between your thighs, you both take the time to savor it. That is until his overthinking takes over. "I didn't bring a condom. Fuck, I was in a rush. I didn't think." He says quickly, like he's waiting for you to back out or push him away. You bring your thumb up to the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows and smooth it away, kissing his jaw.

"You think I would get you all worked up to not be prepared? C'mon, baby," you turn the nickname around on him, and he leans into your hand like a cat. "Top drawer." You say. He scrambles to your bedside table and grabs the first one he can find as you move onto all fours while he's distracted. You listen for the foil ripping and the subtle sound of the latex fitting over him. You can't stop the smirk from forming when he looks up and sees the sight in front of him.

"Fuckin' Hell," he mutters. Your back is arched perfectly, your hair gathered over your shoulder, and the tattoo you got done so many years ago is on display for him. "You are so goddamn perfect." He says as he presses his chest into your back and kisses your shoulder. He plants a few more kisses across your neck and back, making you wait longer than you already have, and just when you think you're going crazy, he slowly pushes into you and punches all the air from your lungs. 

He's big. Bigger than anyone you've been with before, and he seems to know that. He rolls his hips, and you moan, gripping at the sheets under you for stability as you adjust. His breathing is ragged behind you, and he groans when you involuntarily clench around him. "You okay?" He asks, his voice straining. His patience and self-control should be fucking studied. 

"Yeah, I'm okay." You assure him, and he nods. He starts to move slowly at first, but when you start whining and shaking under him, he snaps. You're both impatient. Months of following the rules and caring about what other people could think or say tumble out of your heads as he sets a rough pace. You've been dreaming about this and pushing it away since he walked into your classroom that day, and now that it's happening, you can't hide how desperate you are for him. You cry his name as he fucks into you deeply, no part of your bodies not touching, but it's still not close enough.

"You're so fuckin' good for me, baby. Jesus fuck," he moans into your ear, his uneven breaths echoing into your skull. "You feel so good." 

He sits back and brings you with him, changing the angle and forcing him deeper inside of you as his hand snakes around your waist and dips to play with your clit. You curse loudly and dig your nails into his forearm as bright pleasure courses through your veins. "'M gonna come if you keep doing that," you warn, your voice high and strained as he adds a little more pressure. 

"C'mon, honey, come on my cock for me. Please, I want it." It could be the slight whine in his voice or the fact that he's begging you for it, or the fact that the tight circles he's rubbing into your clit are making you see stars, but you come hard. You rely on him to hold you upright as he fucks you through your high, the slick between your thighs growing as his own orgasm washes over him, and he moans directly in your ear, an unexpected but not unpleasant gift. You think you could get off again just to the sounds he makes when he's coming. 

You stay like that for a second, wrapped up in each other and breathing hard with him still inside you, before he finally finds the courage to slip out of you with only a tiny pained moan. He carefully guides you onto your back, your bones jelly, and kisses your cheek before he pads off to the bathroom to throw away the used condom. 

It's quiet again in the apartment, but it's not lonely anymore. He makes himself at home in your space, asking if he can get water and snacks from your kitchen and walking around naked as the day he was born. "I wanna make sure you've got enough energy for round two." He says, making you laugh.

"Are you finally gonna make good on your promise to take your time with me?" 

"Fuck yeah." He says, coming back to kiss your lips one more time before walking to the kitchen. It's like if he goes a few minutes without tasting you, he can't function, or at least, that's what he makes it seem like. You're more than receptive to the attention and can only watch as he walks around. Your trust in your legs is not strong enough to get up just yet. 

In the domestic silence, it would be easy for your mind to run rampant with rogue thoughts and anxieties, but when Joel returns to the bedroom with snacks, bottles of water, and those stupidly sweet eyes, they get pushed to the back burner. He gets under the covers and pulls you into him, his warm body grounding you to this moment and not letting your thoughts stray. He presses kisses to your hair and your face every so often as you talk about everything and nothing. 

Somehow, it feels natural, like you've been doing this the whole time or like everything was leading up to this. Maybe it was. Still, you'll need to talk about this. You know you will.

Just... not yet.

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